cw: impalement wound, dramatic representation of first aid that should not be taken as real life advice
Midoriya sails alongside the ruby-red symbol of death wielded by a friend. He lands with a ground-shattering crash on a collection of weathered low-tide boulders a safe distance away from the fight. It shoots pain into his legs after his struggle within the Leviathan, but he does not break. He cannot break. Once he sets his mind to something, he will not stop.
As he dispels the light-and-wind cloak of One For All, he cradles his passenger with the care class drilled into him until it was second nature. When he kneels, gashes dripping rust warmblood on his hero gear and the beastblood that streaks them both, he lays Paul down gently as with an infant. Most of him is intact, barring various teeth wounds and gnawed blows amidst broken black sheath-like armor. His limbs lie at unconscious angles like the relaxed wings of a fallen bird.
His solar plexus is pierced through, red seeping everywhere without the beat of life behind it.
"Stop his bleeding!" he barks to Ruby in the aggressive battle-speak that clings desperately to victory. The tears on his face are incidental. He rips his glove off and checks his vitals with a scarred hand, fluttering, quick, and precise. Paul is as lifeless as the training dummies used in rescue exercises. Midoriya doesn't scream, doesn't allow himself the luxuries of panic or fear, but immediately tries to resuscitate him. It all comes down to this, the rhythm of his hands on his friend's chest.
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Midoriya sails alongside the ruby-red symbol of death wielded by a friend. He lands with a ground-shattering crash on a collection of weathered low-tide boulders a safe distance away from the fight. It shoots pain into his legs after his struggle within the Leviathan, but he does not break. He cannot break. Once he sets his mind to something, he will not stop.
As he dispels the light-and-wind cloak of One For All, he cradles his passenger with the care class drilled into him until it was second nature. When he kneels, gashes dripping rust warmblood on his hero gear and the beastblood that streaks them both, he lays Paul down gently as with an infant. Most of him is intact, barring various teeth wounds and gnawed blows amidst broken black sheath-like armor. His limbs lie at unconscious angles like the relaxed wings of a fallen bird.
His solar plexus is pierced through, red seeping everywhere without the beat of life behind it.
"Stop his bleeding!" he barks to Ruby in the aggressive battle-speak that clings desperately to victory. The tears on his face are incidental. He rips his glove off and checks his vitals with a scarred hand, fluttering, quick, and precise. Paul is as lifeless as the training dummies used in rescue exercises. Midoriya doesn't scream, doesn't allow himself the luxuries of panic or fear, but immediately tries to resuscitate him. It all comes down to this, the rhythm of his hands on his friend's chest.