AN: So I wrote this as a sorta cathartic outlet for my own pent up feelings? I dunno, I wrote it at midnight because I couldn't sleep and panic was setting in I guess. So, this is more of a vent fic than anything. I wanna give my dog, Axel, a shout out. He's a good boi and he knows exactly when his comforts are needed! Also, I need to thank Rzen for being my beta, she's awesome and amazing!
I hope you enjoy my garbage midnight writings.
It's warm outside, a humidity taking control of the night. A light breeze that offers no comfort flits through the trees, caressing the leaves, enticing them to glide through the air with the wind. The moon has graced the earth with a halo of light so celestial that even the clouds don't dare obscure it. The shadows dance in celebration under the moonlight.
Izuku can hear the crickets composing their cacophony of sound, but for all their noise, the night feels awfully quiet. Everything is peaceful, a serene tranquility that washes over the night sky.
It's times like these that Izuku can feel Its presence the most.
Nights like this, when his thoughts become too much, when the air is too still and the silence is deafening, he can hear Its claws raking against his floor, inching closer to him. The sound drives itself into his head, an incessant screech that belittles his every thought.
Now that It's here, he knows that sleep will evade him.
It doesn't matter that things are different now. It doesn't care. It knows his inner insecurities, his own doubts and fears; It feeds off of them, waiting for the day when it all becomes too much. It's a silent stalker, a predator that sits—waits—for its prey to wither away before lunging.
It's been waiting for a long time now.
It's tired of waiting.
He knows nothing of its appearance, something for which he is grateful. The presence it emits alone is enough to make his skin crawl with disgust.
His room feels darker now that It's here, waiting just out of his sight. He doesn't need to see it to know its there, staring at him with hollowed out eyes, waiting for him to give in to it. He won't, he can't, but that doesn't stop him from entertaining the thought.
It's when his thoughts are a jumbled mess of anxieties and dissonance that It appears. Like a cat It slinks throughout the shadows. It never loses sight of him, but stays just out of his own line of vision.
There's a low moan that rumbles around his room. Its looming voice reminds him of all that he is not.
Why did you think you'd ever amount to anything?
You're not good enough, you never will be.
You're just useless Deku; you're worthless, idealistic, a pain, Deku, nothing more.
You can never be a hero. Why you ever thought differently is as laughable as it is impossible.
You will always be a failure.
He winces at Its words, not able to give a rebuttal. He can't refute the truth. It always knew when to strike, what to say to leave him speechless. Its less than human voice lingers, an echo of his own ineptness.
It crawls onto the edge of his bed. He can feel the pressure shift as It settles into a crouch, boring an emptiness into him. He doesn't dare look at It; he can never bring himself to face It. He knows It won't attack him, or else It would have done so a long time ago. No, It sits, as It always does, blaring beedy soulless eyes into him and watches. Its claws rake against his sheets, in an almost soothing fashion, enticing him to look It in the eyes and understand Its viewpoint.
He knows Its viewpoint. He doesn't want to, but he understands It and, in the darker recesses of his own mind, he agrees with It.
He can feel Its heavy breathing as It sits on his bed. Its been waiting for so long and this time, Izuku thinks, It won't settle on being ignored.
Its breathing stills.
His thoughts jumble. There are too many to discern. They swarm him, overwhelm his consciousness. It's all too much. He can't keep up with them, only able to make out the most prominent of thoughts.
Failure. Worthless. Idiotic. Quirkless. Deku.
His room spins in the maddening darkness.
It's as if It has stolen his ability to breath, and wrapped Its claws around his heart, freezing it in an icy grip. He's no longer in control of anything, It has taken the reigns. He can feel It stalk closer, ready to take what Its been after all these years.
His heart lunges, breaking free from Its grip only to be thrown into overdrive. Clenching his eyes shut, he refuses to look at It, acknowledge It, as he forcibly takes back control over himself.
Breathing is a chore, but he's able to eventually bring it under control. He needs everything to just stop. He needs some space, some time to sort out his panicking thoughts.
Getting up, Izuku takes a moment to collect himself, blatantly ignoring It. It'll wait, wait until he has decided to notice Its presence again.
He's regained control of himself, but it's not enough. The thoughts still remain, an imprint on his person and he knows they'll never leave him permanently. As long as It's still there, the thoughts will remain.
He turns his gaze away from his bed, where It no doubt has settled, and stumbles to the door.
Trying to be mindful of everyone else in the dorms, Izuku makes his way to the bathroom. He can feel It follow him; It never leaves him. It might hide away for the most part, but It's always there. He can feel it now more than ever.
Its footsteps penetrate the quiet stillness of the dorms. He dares not look back at It. He can't, he won't. It stays right behind him, a haunting companion. Its breathes are heavy, Its footsteps a dull thud on the ground. He knows it's late, and the chances of someone waking are slim, but a thread of weary anxiousness still dwells. He wouldn't wish for anyone to see Its presence behind him, even he has yet to cast his eyes on Its grotesque features.
Izuku is too afraid to look at It, he's afraid of what he will find, of the truth that must lie in Its disturbing visage.
The bathroom offers little solace for him as Its attendance is still tangible. He hates It, but knows he can't dispel It. It has always been there, It will always remain.
Going to the sink, he keeps his eyes downcast, not willing to catch Its image in the mirror. Wearily, he turns on the faucet, letting the white noise of the running water lull him from his uneasiness. He stares at the water, letting it consume him. He washes his face with the cool water, closing his eyes and refusing to look in the mirror.
There's a croak, a low moan that ripples through through the room. Claws, sharp and deranged, clack against the linoleum floor. He knows what It wants, the same thing Its always wanted. It wants him to look at It, bask in Its horror and acknowledge Its existence.
Izuku doesn't want to. Doing so would be to admit to his own shortcomings. He's all to aware of them—his faults—but that doesn't mean he's willing to acknowledge them as real. As long as he doesn't look, doesn't turn his gaze to It, he can pretend they don't exist.
Against his better judgement, he slowly turns his gaze upwards.
Green eyes take their time as they gaze up into the mirror, finally confronting the monster that has haunted him throughout his life.
The face he sees is not one of a grossly disfigured monster, but of himself.
Some part of him knew that the monster wouldn't be there.
Izuku had always been afraid to confront It, afraid of what he might see; because, he knows, sometimes the most terrifying thing to face is one's self.
AN: So there ya go~ I hope you enjoyed, and if ya did feel free to leave a review~~ 'Until next time,
Vera~
