Work Text:
“I need you to be my dad,” the green-haired human informed the black-haired demon. “Please.”
Shouta was way too sober for this.
“What?” he asked, standing in the middle of the scorched summoning circle in a very nice living room. The kid was about thirteen-ish? Maybe? He was bad at guessing the age of humans, but he was definitely teens. That was when they usually started finding Necronomicons like it was damn candy or something. And then they started to try summoning demons.
Normally, it didn’t work because they had failsafes in accord with the winged assholes upstairs with the horned assholes downstairs.
Because this kid definitely shouldn’t be able to summon Shouta. Not that he could even do anything with the said teenager(?).
No self-respecting demon in their right fucking mind would accept a soul from an underage human. They couldn’t even consent to most things. So they definitely couldn’t give informed consent to selling their fucking souls.
So when he got back to Hell, then he was going to have to file paperwork and deal with that headache. Or maybe he could track down the Archangel Shirakumo and, like, beg him to do a sweep to make sure these books don’t get into the hands of teenagers or something? He liked Shouta for whatever reason. He’d do it.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
“Run that by me again,” Shouta said. He looked around the very nice, well-maintained living room. The kid was healthy, though he had a pretty good shiner, but there was no malice that came with abuse in the air.
Demons could tell.
“I need you to be my dad,” the kid said awkwardly. “Or pretend to be my Dad. Mom’s out of town for a big conference at work. And I, uh, got in a fight yesterday at school. Dad’s dead. Mom can’t be here. So…”
“Demon?”
“I can stay at home by myself,” the kid insisted seriously. “Really. Mom trusts me. I call her and check in all of the time. She needs this conference to keep her job. But if I say I’m home alone, then they’re going to call the police because a quirkless person can’t be home alone by themselves and um…”
Ah.
Now this was the darkness in the hearts of men, Shouta knew well.
“What do you have to barter?”
“Oh! Yeah. Hang on,” the kid dug around in a bag. He pulled out a small bag of very good coffee beans. The kind of coffee beans that Shouta would gut another demon for and then happily fill out of the paperwork for. “The book said you’d prefer the bitter bean, and I just assumed?”
“Acceptable,” he said. “And if you want that quirk situation handled, then please summon me at a later date.”
He stepped out of the circle, assuming a more human guise.
“Shouta,” he introduced him.
“Oh! Um, Midoriya Izuku,” the kid bowed. “Please take care of me.”
Let it not be said that Shouta, Lord Aizawa of the Seventh Circle of Hell and Punisher of the Violent, did not do his job well.
By the end of the meeting, the little pissant of a principal and an educator was thoroughly terrified of Midoriya Izuku and his “Father”. All black marks on the kid’s record had been expunged and the little shit who hit his summoner was suspended for three days.
Midoriya looked a little shell-shocked.
Before asking, “Do you like cats?”
Yes.
Yes, Shouta did like cats.
Hey, he was a good kid who gave Shouta very expensive coffee beans and took him to a cat café. He was also painfully lonely.
So maybe he would keep an eye on things.
“You’re making a lot of people upstairs very nervous,” the Archangel Shirakumo informed Shouta cheerfully. “There’s big plans for Midoriya Izuku.”
“And?” he asked, filing his claws. “Kid summoned me to be his dad.”
“For one parent-teacher meeting!”
Shouta was really good at reading between the lines and twisting the contracts to get what he wanted.
“Being a father is a lifelong responsibility. Plus, he keeps giving me cats and coffee.”
See? That was much better than the still beating heart of a virgin. What the Hell was Shouta going to do with that?
Shirakumo pouted at him.
Shouta made a face back.
“Heaven should be happy. He’ll be doubly safe with me now until he does whatever he’s going to do.”
The archangel sighed.
“No convincing you to go back, huh?”
“Nope,” Shouta took a long pointed sip of his coffee. “I like this kid. We’re friends.”
“God help us all.”
“Don’t bring Him into this.”
Midoriya Izuku continued on his quirk analysis notebook, totally oblivious to the forces of Heaven and Hell watching him.