#demon school

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SHORT!

In which it's time for the first ever tri-monthly parent teacher meeting at Babylis and a certain teacher of the misfit class is all too happy to inform his students' parents of their performance. Or; In which Naberius Kalego's meets, Suzuki [Name], the biological father of Suzuki Iruma for the first time.

In this; Iruma's cannonical parents will instead be his biological mother and his step-father. Let's just say they have week on week off custody and Iruma never told him anything about the jobs he had to do. Reader has dark blue hair, like evil iruma, in this.

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"It's so nice to finally meet you Mr. Naberius; I hope my little iruma hasn't given you too much trouble."

The dark blue haired man, who looked strikingly similar to a certain troublemaking human demon, introduced himself as he gently shook Kalego's hand.

You live like this? Clearly you need me to take care of you.

Trigger warning, smoking, depressing themes, yandere themes, abuse, homelessness, kissing, bondage, mentions of sex.

You lazily took a drag from your cigarette, inhaling the bitter tobacco; let it fill your lungs, infesting them, tainting them. With a puff a ring of rose, releasing the addictive substance into bitter morning air. You rest your upper body against your veranda, a small consolation attached to your otherwise decrepit apartment.

Things hadn’t been going smooth for you, your bloodline magic weaker compared to the rest of your siblings; not a good thing considering how traditional your family was, “only the strong survive.” You could hear your mothers voice echo with the taunts of your siblings. They were merciful enough to kick you out after graduation, rather than follow up on the promise of killing you. Things spiraled from there, with no friends or support so to speak, it was hard finding shelter, with little to no money there was a bit of time you were on the streets. Sneers of disgust at your grimy appearance we’re plentiful. Finding a job was equally as challenging, and you weren’t about to prostitute yourself, you still had your pride as a demon. So you scrounged, clawed, fought… and finally you found where you fit; a small time job working at an ice cream stand at an amusement park, newly hiring employees after it was demolished by a freak accident. It was small change but it was enough to live.

If you had to say anyone would’ve been on your side, it would be your ex Opera… well not really, you were just childhood sweethearts, things changed and you lost contact with him. What can you say that’s life, demons come and go.

You sigh heavily, flicking you cigarette. The past month had been odd, ever since you settled in to your apartment you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. Thing moved, or disappeared all together; you tried writing it off as being forgetful, or just because of how messy the apartment was, but it was hard with how frequent it’s becoming.

The apartment was one room, you had a small cot, at the center, the kitchen consisted of a small folding table, a microwave, and a mini fridge, the bathroom was hidden by a curtain, leaving little privacy. Most of your thing were strew about in no particular order, seeing as you had nowhere to store them, clothing was folded next to the cot, under the cot was your essentials, laundry was piled high next to the toilet, the kitchen was filled with boxes of dried food, cutlery and dished stacked under the sink counter. With how mall the room was it left barely a path to leave.

Too deep in your thoughts you were startled feeling arms wrapping around your waist, kisses were planted on you neck, with a familiar purr. “Opera?” You recognized his scent, his purr. “You live like this?” He murmured. I hummed, “not much of a choice.” His arms tightened, “clearly you need me to take care of you.” He growled. I shook him off, “what do you mean? I’m doing the best I can?” I whispered, avoiding his piercing gaze. “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question.