|| 𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈 𝕷𝖚𝖘𝖙 ||

F r a c t u r e d

{ 2 years for me to update... well it sounds like anyone that waited should be rewarded with a longer chapter.

Frankly, it's been 2 years, so I'm not going to do the funny title font (lazy) but I'll mock it}

Shoto was a reserved man. He always had been. He was reserved, didn't worry, didn't care... I'm fact he couldn't care, it wasn't in his nature. A fallen Angel isn't sent to rule over all of humanities sins as a punishment, Shoto granted himself this power. No, his punishment was a lack of empathy and compassion. The ability that prevented him from loving.

So why, when we was passing through the hall of Izuku: the heartbreak succubus' room; did his necrotic heart lurch at the sound of a choked sob.

Before Satan could catch himself, he had opened the door to see Izuku, leaning over the edge of his bed—with a grim pile of vomit—trembling.

He looked over his shoulder to the halls of Satan's house: rather this fortress of a building, just short of a castle. He saw movement on the far end, one maid trying to dodge his line of site.

"You."

Their sneaking halted, timidly they walked into line of sight. Pink, Shoto briefly remembered she was one of Izuku's friends.

"The green one is sick. Get clean up and medicine." He would have used his name, but there's something about admitting that he's even bothered to learn Izuku's name that made him feel like his show of authority was weakening.

Without bothering to confirm if that maid followed orders, Shoto turned into Izuku's room. Tear filled eyes glared at him.

"..'the green one'.." His shaky voice echoed. "You know my fucking name..."

Even in this strange state, Izuku still fought. He still cared... Shoto envied his compassion, and for a moment he was tempted to vocalize it but the moment to do so was cute off as Izuku just started to cry.

A genuine, broken soul. Although a dead one, Satan himself swear he could feel a vile heart beat mixed into it.

"Izuku," stepping towards the green haired boy, Shoto reached out a hesitant hand. Why did he feel uncertain from Izuku's grief? Normally this human emotion gave him sadistic joy. "How are you feeling."

"Like an object." The freckled devil spat this, gripping his own shirt and bed to get a desperate reality check, soon clawing at Shoto's arms. The demon king winced mentally but kept a solace face. Izuku's fingers dug into his flesh, a sense of malice behind it.

"I don't fucking know, like I want to die a second time? I feel like a bipolar fraud. I want to be used and then I feel disgusting after. I want to be held and then I can't stand being touched. I-" Izuku choked this out, the taste of bile on his tongue making this words taste as disgusting as they were to verbalize. "-I think I deserve to be loved and then I hate myself??"

His cries were questions, as if he didn't even understand why he was like this. Shoto, with the arm that wasn't being shredded by whatever panic attack this seemed to be, very gently caressed the greenette's cheeks.

"Please, calm down, take a deep break. You're making me bleed."

Shoto knew that if Izuku didn't calm, then he might have another explosion of energy.

And Izuku himself, in response to this gentle touch, looked slowly down at his tense hands, covered in the blood of the man that was trying to comfort him.

...

He seized and pulled his limbs inward on himself, rubbing away tears as he started to hyperventilate, smearing Satan's blood across his face.