Chapter Text
-¿~•°○☆○°•~¿-
There was crying
Then apologies.
then more crying
Izuku hung up a while ago. Not even uttering a word to his mother before as a sick eveloped his distressed heart, fully aware of the ugly head about to be reared.
Fire erupted in his lungs, crushing, melting, and clawing at his skin. Hot molten hate crept up his neck tearing him inside out as an overbearing and destructive grief thrummed under his skin.
His nerves shifted, pinching him in a disturbing show of torture yet giving him solace from the odious brute spewing acid at his flesh.
His heart squeezed inside his chest, ribs buckling under the intensity of his emotions- his grief. Despair sat in his chest, fueling the fiend kicking and biting his spine, ache coursing inside him. He didn't feel much, his emotions suppressed for years in overwhelmingly empty pit that spread through his body. No, he didn't feel much at all- his "personality" built off of textbook definitions and character studies. But the weight and horrid intensity of his emotions at the moment was to much to bear. The years he spent holding back meant nothing in the face of something so gailingly awful.
The sheer capacity at which he experiences both the warmth and freezing cold of life is arduous in many ways. His Fathers incessant flame of love, so welcoming and unconditional will never be felt again. There stands an empty shell, incomplete without the main element of its being. It's cracked and fragmented heart yearns to be whole again, uncaring for quality nor internal beauty.
And something is there to pick up the pieces, to relieve its burning heart with an agonizingly cold pleasure. To burden him with the external guilt of him emotions, his stoic nature abandoned for something less humane. Settled in its place there is a monster, a vile creature built on hatred and anguish. The demon is inside of him, crawling in his lungs and creeping up his throat. It screeches while clutching Izuku's broken heart- it cries out to overtake him, to lead him astray the righteous path.
But he's nothing if not a hero. A savior of society, who's worth is only to come to the aid of the people. Valued by his ultimatum and a slave to the masses. He glances up at the stars, the noble minded heroes of the present and past with desire so great it pains him in a way. But hes not good to a fault- not at all.
He can try to be heroic, to follow the law and fight crime doers and rescue the virtuous, but it simply wont be for the right reason. While saving the innocent he wouldn't feel anything. Not relief,pity- nor would he feel happiness when finding out his mortality rate was high during a mission. He might feel a slight pang satisfaction but that would be it.
He has his own set of morals. Justice must be served. And Evil doers have to be persecuted, to be slaughtered and reminded of all they have done. So what if the sight of crimson leaking sluggishly during a fight awakens an urge he doesn't want to knowledge? If that makes him the martyr than so be it. He will graciously accept crucifixion for the sake of the world, for the downfall of all the sinful mortals of this earthly plane and the freedom for all the innocent souls hurt by said sinners.
But can he?
Rotten words of deceit slide off his tongue with zero resistance, his mouth accustomed to the constant spout of dolled up falsehoods clinging to his teeth like taffy. Words are what kept him alive- the thought of having to abandon such a vital piece of his crumbled heart causes waves of nausea to flow over him. He thrives as a manipulator, it's all he is- all he's been for years. His mask is a flawless one, deepened by a need for emotional security and to keep the peace.
All he has to do is smile as wide as he can with a false spark of hope shining in his dead eyes. Highlight every element of his past that they expect.
Blush at any even remotely kind comment
Be Bashful
Cower
Cry
Submit to Authority
Display False Hope
Be an optimistic whiny Deku just like they want him to be.
Hes spent way too much time as Deku to give up now, the face behind his mask is smudged and blurred- pieces of every acquaintance blending in. Down to the littlest habit, he's absorbed the cover act of a childish hero fanatic. The lines of his character are now obscured by distorted conversations and dreams, painting a picture of hapiness of love. His bleeding heart and bruised skin shield away from the surface, years of isolation creating a veil of uncertainty to cover him from head to toe. Hes shoved and deflected every detail about of himself- the truth -deep into the fragile abyss that is his gut. Its been years- over a decade.
He has no clue who he is anymore.
He felt his walls cave in, everything coming down at the brutal realization.
The scent of sizzling skin and blood curdling screams fill the air. His vision went white.
.
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"Its fine Izuku you-your okay" Hisashi said sofly, stroking his hair with the utmost care and pulling him into a hug.
The little boy gripped the back of his father's shirt in a tremendous show of strength. Why was he being punished?
His father muttered quiet reassurances, but they were filled with anxiety and hesitance. It was cruel, he immediately wanted to comfort Hisashi but all that came out was a strangled cry.
He was being murdered from the inside out. Emotionally and Physically
He couldn't feel anything except pain. The skin around his back was twisting and tearing open, blood staining his allmight t-shirt. His childhish joy stripped sway and replaced with a harrowing discomfort.
Small red horns emerging from his head, turning his hair completely black. He couldnt see anything, vision invaded by images of the dead. Dark lanky figures staring at him with nasty grins, smaller shadows clawing at him spewing words he didnt understand.
.
!Eum Occidere!!
.
!Impius oa puer insontws abscondit oculos!
.
It was simply unbearable, causing his father's words to fall on deaf ears. Incomprehensible chanting seizing his thoughts and yanking at his consciousness.
"Inko! Izuku's quirk is coming in, we need to go to the hospital!" his father screamed as his grip got tighter, the boys claws tearing into his waist painting them both red. He wailed, loud and messy as his tears got hotter and hotter starting to burn him, marring deep red lines down his face. It was agonizing, and he was begging for death by the time the creatures approached him, but he couldn't stop.
Mutilated corpses swan his vision, innocence stripped away in an instant. He was suddenly a thousand years wiser and brutally aware of the horrible world. Stuck in a labyrinth with the demons and sinners clinging to his childish lure, he was resigned to face a terrible end. His vision swam and blurred- consciousness slowly slipping away from him until the world faded to black.
Yet the vengeful advanced in the darkness, dread clipping at his heels- threatening to swallow him whole.
So he did the only thing he could do.
.
He ran
.
.
And ran
.
.
And ran. Fled until he couldn't walk, and crawled until he couldn't move.
.
His feet turned red and sore beneath him, blood seeping from his cracked nails into the earth. Fueling the demons as they cried out for him. He gasped for air, searching for his chest to fill with relief, the pressure on his battered heart relieving instantaneously. For god to look down upon him an take mercy on his soul. To realize that Izuku wasn't his strongest soldier and retract his hellish charity, to endow it onto a hero. One like All Might.
His lungs punched at his ribs as he dragged himself across the void, but eventually his hands gave out. The flesh caressing his skin brutally melted off until he was a mess of exposed bone and scarlet. The liquid vermilion leaving tracks in his wake- traces of his strained existence staining any surface he touched. His mortal presence shepherding ghastly critters crawling his way, His young mind being torn to shreds as he came to ruin- unraveling at the mercy of the depraved.
But despite his trouncing, he kept on. Delusions of light shining at the end of the tunnel, Saviors of the scorned armed and ready to rescue him. He prayed for salvation- for anything to help him escape.
He had to, for only a sinner would accept such monsters. Welcome them with open arms.
And Izuku was just a little boy. A child reaching out from the darkness begging for his mother and father. He didn't have the guts to do such a thing- to dirty the earth further with the monsters toying with his mind.
.
.
He came to in a hospital bed, Inko softly weeping next to him.
A Nurse the room, poking and prodding at him coldly as he zoned back into focus. Everything felt dull. Any fear he once held for hospitals seemingly disappeared into thin air, and a somber feeling enveloped his heart in a tight embrace. Laying stiff, he watched the nurse drawing him blood with little interest, it was all off. Nothing felt quiteright. Antiseptic burned his skin and the memories came flooding back. The pain. The hurt. He nearly choked on the agonizing terror that swept over him.
His heart pounded harshly in his chest and he shot up and curled in on himself, clawing roughly at his ribs.
.
'Stop' Images of dark looming figures surrounded him.
.
.
'Please' His flesh melted off the bone
.
Him carving his father open with the same claws that leaped at him heels. ' Oh God '
He was a monster
.
His abused tear ducts burned as he bit his lip to try and contain himself.
.
He hurt someone.
.
He hurt his Dad.
.
Hes filthy, absolutely disgusting.
.
Why?
.
Why is he still alive?
.
Why would god show mercy on a sinner.
.
He should be dead
.
His dad could be DEAD-
"Izuku?"
His mother's voice broke him out of his downward spiraling thoughts. He felt his heart pulse painfully once he caught a glimpse of her.
She was a mess, all tear stained cheeks and wide eyes. Her lip quivered and her nails were bitten deep enough to draw blood, but there was also a look of relief in her eyes- joy that he was finally awake and safe. She pulled him into a constricting hug- When did they become constricting instead of comforting? before setting him down and searching for any signs of hurt- besides the burns on his face.
"A-Are you okay honey?"
It didn't matter if he was okay or not, where was his dad? He couldn't help but notice that he'd been absent the entire time, was he truly dead?
Guilt picked at his bones, jack-hammering his skull. He couldn't let this happen again. Never.
So with his best smile he replied, -
"I'm fine Mama."
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He was fine. Absolutely Fine.