Scars- Todoroki Family

「Darts and Scars」

Dabi is going to fucking kill little Shoto Todoroki. He should've finished the job when he was 11, not waited for him to get stronger. So there he was, smoking a charred cigar with raspy breathing as he threw darts at a photograph of his brother and father. How dare that fucking masterpiece take everything from him. Why'd he get to be treated differently? It wasn't fucking fair.

Little Shoto Todoroki is going to fucking die. His father beat him bad, just because he couldn't win his damn match against his own friend, Midoriya. He beat him till his body shook, covered in bruises and blisters, until he was laying there on the ground vomiting and in seething agony. He'd much prefer death over the hell he's living in. Fuyumi and Natsuo weren't even home, so he did what he could and stumbled out of his door, clasping his arm to his opposite shoulder, his body trembling and quaking with fear. He could barely walk, better yet see. His vision was blurry and his head aches, but something is driving him to step forward, to get the hell away from his father, even if it kills him. Which quite frankly he wouldn't mind. No, no that's a lie. It's not that he actually wants to die, he just knows it's inevitable. He'll either die with his his father or die on his own, and the latter was far more inviting.

Before Shoto realized it, he found himself standing in a dark alleyway, glad to find a peaceful place to die, away from his father. That is, until he heard the thwack of a dart landing on a target board and mustered an ounce of focus on his eyes to make out the figure before him. He paled when he saw the figure before him, feeling queasy. None other than Dabi himself stood with his back to him, throwing darts at two dartboards, one of himself, and one of his father. Yeah, that didn't bode well.

But he was going to die one way or another, so to hell with it if it was going to be by a villain's hands. Better than his father, he supposed, if only marginally. His body was weak after all, and he could barely bring himself to breath, but whether he died by Dabi's vengeful flames or from his father's scars, there was one last thing he had to do. So unbeknownst to the villain before him, he picked up a dart and threw it straight at Endeavor's face, mustering the last of his strength to take a single, fleeting, wobbly shot at the hero.

Dabi's head whipped around almost instantly, and his hand heated up with blue flame as he sensed the intruder who'd just thrown a dart promptly at his fathers face. Who the fuck would be here? Must be another damned guy Shigaraki wanted him to recruit. Another fucking thug he had to kill. Oh. Why the hell was Todoroki fucking Shoto standing in an alleyway behind him? Either he was damn lucky or about to fucking die. So he held out his hand to attack the hero with his flames, but to his surprise, his brother didn't try to stop him.

And that's when he realized it. His brother was covered in scars and bruises, his eyes looked unfocused and his skin was pale. He looked so fragile, like he might pass out any second. Those weren't the injuries or the expression of someone who'd been through a fight. Those were scars of abuse, ones he had a few too many run ins with in his past. Dare he say it, he looked like him. How he used to be beat anyways. There was no fucking way Endeavor did that to his masterpiece. But even then, Shoto's burns looked even worse than his own when he was his age. He was snapped out of his thoughts by the hero collapsing on the ground, his body a mangled and bloodied mess, his gasps raspy and forced, trembling like a fish out of water. And that is when Touya Todoroki knew he fucked up.

A/N: I'm really excited to write this fic! I'll try to prioritize this one, so I'll be doing hopefully multi weekly updates if I can! All the art in this is credit to Sharl0ck on Instagram by the way, check out their art it's really good 😭