Chapter Text
Iruma had always been wrong, maybe it was because of the way his parents looked at him. He may not have understood as a baby, but he certainly did now. He was wrong, so very wrong and bad. His parents don’t like bad because it’s wrong and he is fundamentally wrong. When he was first born the fluffy cat ears that protruded out his head made the blue-haired figures grow with not disdain but certainly disgust. Was there really a difference? Iruma wouldn’t be able to tell you. He doesn’t get such a right.
When Iruma was born, he was not the same. He was simply something to use because what else would he be? He was wrong, and he certainly had to make that clear. Nothing could make Iruma right because he was born that way. It went beyond having cat ears and a tail, he wasn’t made to be loved he was only made to entertain and pay. Iruma’s parents were not happy he was born, they certainly were not. Iruma would like to wish it was because of the animal ears, maybe he could have just cut them off and hid them, yeah Iruma preferred that much more.
It was simple because he was born out of inconvenience and had a small size. From the moment he was born, he wasn’t immediately usable. People don’t like it when you're not usable yet because that means you are useless; when you are useless, you are nothing. Iruma found that out when he was able to walk.
At first, his parents hated the idea of having a strange cat-monster child but they quickly found they could exploit such a freak, but that died down. That’s what Iruma thinks anyway he doesn’t remember much he hadn't even opened his eyes, but he remembers voices. He remembers how sweetly his mother talked to him when she showed ‘Iruma the freak of nature’ to people for money, money was good and it made everyone smile. It gave Iruma something he wanted to.
Something very hard to come by, which is conditional comfort. Did you think it would be love? Did you think it would be unconditional? Love does not exist and it’s certainly not unconditional, everything is conditional, well when it came to Iruma anyway.
Iruma knew that nothing he saw with other parents and their children was his to have.
When he was younger before he realized when he mewed and yowled for his mother's comfort she only told him to shut up. Reasonable. Iruma was annoying anyway, Iruma berates his past self for being so stupid, but he can’t help but wonder if his parents could’ve given him anything besides a tiny bit of food.
Maybe it was blissful strange awareness but when he was one he was held and Iruma liked that. Iruma wanted to be held again, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. Iruma was no longer dependent he was all grown up by the time he could walk. He knew that he shouldn’t dream. Because Iruma shouldn’t dream, He was a pet to own.
The ears on his head and his furry blue tail made it obvious that het he was a pet. Maybe Iruma was too harsh, his parents loved him a lot. Though they certainly didn’t make it obvious they loved him, Iruma was sure of it. Sometimes Iruma gets too sad he says things he doesn’t mean. Iruma is loved, loved like a pet but he is loved. That’s what children are, they are pets.
He remembers when he was very young. The age doesn’t matter; he has to remember one day. But when he was young, he was walking behind his mom. It was the few times she held his hand instead of his ear or tail. She probably doesn’t know, but that hurts sometimes. He never said a thing. He is too loud—that’s what his voice is. That’s what his mom said, so he would much rather stay quiet and endure a little pain.
They were in a crowded place, and his pointed ears hurt. He would cover them, but he was already a walking freak; he didn’t need that attention. He was overwhelmed, but something was constantly drawing him to a specific place in the crowd. His parents had stopped walking and talking about something he couldn’t comprehend. Iruma was dumb. He could not comprehend a lot. He could only hear demands nothing else, nothing more. Iruma wanted to comprehend he tried really. He really did.
So he didn’t pay attention but he had looked out and saw a weird sight. Two adults with a much younger kid hugging, Iruma never envied something so much. He wanted that, he looked at his mother who only ignored the small mewl he said. Iruma thought that maybe when he spoke he would get to hug his parents like that.
Iruma didn’t talk, it was too hard for him, and his teeth had only just grown in. It’s not like it was encouraged anyway. He grew slower and everyone hated it including him. Iruma wanted to be useful to his parents. He wanted to be able to talk to them instead of meowing, that’s why Iruma was a pet he was not on their intellectual level and he probably would never be.
When Iruma did start to talk he was three, too late according to everybody. When Iruma started talking his parents started giving him solid food in his dish bowl. Before he had only been given milk and old smashed leftovers, he couldn’t tell you what they were he ate to live. Though eating was Iruma’s favorite feeling, it filled him with a warmth he never had. When he was younger he would get a bottle and he would get fed sort of like a baby sheep but his mother would pat his back. Iruma didn’t care if she had made the bottle too hot and kept it in his mouth for too long. Iruma was getting comfort for being good.
Iruma liked being good. The solid food his parents gave him was not good, it did not warm his belly the same way milk did. Instead, it was scraps from the food they had eaten, hard bone, spoiled fish things like that. He didn’t understand how to eat those things he wasn’t allowed at the dinner table, he ate on the floor like a pet. That's what good pets do. That’s what he did.
When he tried to bite the hard things, it didn’t work. He kept chewing because this is what he was supposed to do: eat. He had been curled on the floor constantly chewing and carving these hard bones, and his dad petted his head, saying how good he was. That made Iruma smile. Yes, he was being good, wasn’t he? When Iruma was young, his teeth were sharp, but now they were very dull, kind of like his parents. He was very happy about that. He had become more normal under their guidance.
Irumas parents were always right. He likes those fond memories Iruma also liked working. He was a very good worker. That’s what his parents said, one of the people he worked with in this restaurant asked if he went to school. Iruma said no but apparently, that was weird, soon the coworker explained it’s somewhere where you learn. Iruma wanted to learn he wanted to learn a lot. But wasn’t what he was doing learning? He asked his parent’s they said he couldn’t because he was too animal-like, and it was better for him to stay an animal.
That made something click inside the blue-haired boy's head. Iruma couldn’t and shouldn’t learn, he shouldn’t think and he shouldn’t go out the bounds of his parents. Wishing should stay inside his head because Iruma was wrong and he was a pet. Iruma was loved. You may not believe him but he was, he was given a blanket on the floor to sleep when other pets sleep without one. He was given food in his dish on the floor, it was small but so was Iruma. A pet dish he loved had paw prints on it Iruma wouldn’t be able to tell you that, he didn’t know the word. All Iruma used his voice was for accepting demands, the way it should be. But never the less Iruma was loved when he earned enough money so he could sleep in front of his parent's bed frame. He can’t do that anymore because he's not cute enough, he’s grown, and he’s grown ragged and ugly too unclean.
He’s no longer the cute kitten that could be shown off to everybody. People don’t understand that Iruma was best when he still had soft edges and was round, his soft lines had turned sharp. Iruma wishes he could say they are menacing because then he could fight but it’s more like frail. People like looking at soft and cute things even when there dirty, they certainly do not like dirty scared covered mangy cats with fleas.
Iruma used to get petted by his parents, he used to be allowed in the house. They had even gotten him a cat toy, they said they found it on the street. That toy was his favourite, Iruma doesn’t know when but the toy had broken. He was probably playing with it too roughly, stupid Iruma had ripped the pink little mouse in two. Fluff had gone everywhere he knew very well he was not allowed to make a mess on his parent's floor but he had. Iruma doesn’t know when he picked up the habit maybe when he had thrown up the rotten food in his bowl and his parents yelled at him.
He could not comprehend their screams. Iruma said this before but he is dumb he is lesser making his parents clean something was not allowed. He didn’t know what to do he was younger he didn’t know how to clean dishes, he didn’t even know what those were and yet he knew he had made a mess. To make his parents stop he had eaten whatever was in that bowl. He didn’t like that but he needed to do it. He had eaten throw up and he didn’t like it. It was warm in a yucky way, Iruma didn’t know food could be so bad, but he ate it.
His parents did not like messes caused by Iruma so the best way was to get rid of it. Out of fear he looked at one of his favorite toys and ate the fabric and fluff inside it did not taste good. It did not fill his stomach the way he wished it had. Later Iruma had thrown up on the floor in front of his parents. They were not happy they said he had grown too old and too nasty to stay with them. Iruma realized that he was nasty and disgusting but he was useful. Iruma slept on their porch, to make sure Iruma could bring back the money he earned his parents bought him a collar.
Iruma loved that collar. It was tight around his neck but Iruma did not care, they wanted him to come back. That collar was proof they wanted their little kitten to come back, even if he was gross and ugly, they wanted him to come back! Iruma had made a mistake but he was still useful and he was still loved. Even now Iruma still thinks one day he will be able to sleep in front of his parent's mattress on the floor. He knows that day will come! Just a little longer.
His parents had sent him to faraway jobs, where he didn’t know anyone, but he always went. They said he was such a hard worker, and Iruma liked that. The jobs got harder, but he got tougher. Nobody ever questioned him or talked to him, and Iruma liked it that way; he was most proficient that way. He worked with fish, he went on boats, he collected things, he cooked things, he did everything. Once there were these loud bangs from these metal machines Iruma didn’t like those noises too much so he ran. That’s what he was supposed to do.
Although he could not go home, the constant yelling from his bosses became harsher and more demanding as he got older. Iruma didn’t know why, but he always followed. The harsh words made him stagger, weaken him, and make him anxious. Iruma does not understand why his body felt the need to do this; it only hurt him. But it kept happening. Soon, Iruma knew that he could no longer cower in a corner with his hair on all ends, breathing harshly from the intimidation.
Iruma knew he had to do something. He had more than cat ears and a tail—he had claws, too. He would’ve said fangs, but those are long gone. Iruma knows that. Claws could scratch, and he learned that when he had to dig for food in the trash, his parents had stopped giving him food a while ago. He had gotten hungry and smelled food it was just like what his parents had given him. Sometimes things weren’t scraps after all! Iruma didn’t mind the bugs in his mouth they were probably edible. Though eventually a cat had come much older than him the cat had hissed and snapped at Iruma, Nicking his nose. Iruma ran off after that.
Iruma had claws like that cat and those claws could cause damage. Iruma didn’t know where the thought came from but he had put his claws through his thigh he couldn’t get them unstuck. It hurt but Iruma had been stressed, Iruma knew that because his tail was puffed, and suddenly when the claws were put into his thighs he felt better. Iruma wouldn’t say good but he was calm and Iruma needed to be calm.
So Iruma started scratching himself harshly every time he was stressed it was much better that way.
Staying on his parent's porch was no longer an option for his parents. It meant he had to take care of his hair and wash him so nobody came and took him away. They told him to follow them, and Iruma did. He followed them until they reached a forest, Although it was dark and scary and it made Iruma hold his small fist around his mother's skirt they said they would ‘see him later’. They never did
Sometimes they did, but it was only when Iruma had been given money. Iruma didn’t care Iruma liked the scratch he got behind his ears. The forest was a scary place everything bit him everything was out to get him. He could not understand a thing, something from Iruma’s instincts must have done something to him, hit cat instincts because he must have snapped. No longer did Iruma talk. The thing he tried so hard to do quickly went away when he was placed on the grassy floor. There just wasn’t a need for it. He hissed and snapped like the alley cat. Iruma growled and curled up into a ball and hid in bushes, Iruma killed mice and birds and climbed trees.
Oh, gosh.
Iruma would never be allowed in the house again with blood on his paws. What a stupid thing he had done. He still worked but it was more scavenging he couldn’t take talking and the big footsteps that stomped around he was scared of them he didn’t understand why, but he sometimes did it when his parents complained about not having enough money. Iruma knows they don’t understand he doesn’t know how to count yet. He doesn’t know how much he’s made, sometimes people will give him less than what he worked for because he didn’t understand.
They knew that. And they took advantage of it.
As Iruma got older the collar around his neck got tighter. It hurt and itched and sometimes made his neck bleed red, but Iruma kept it on. The cheap light blue fabric with a silver bell that hurt his ears, a dog bone tag to where his parents lived. He would keep that collar till it choked him to death. Sometimes Iruma couldn’t hunt he could only wheeze and try to expel as much air as he could from his mouth, he sat there panting for a minute. Sometimes Iruma wonders if he’s even a cat. He wasn’t very good at being one, he couldn’t kill mice with his mouth he had to forcibly chew a few times, it was probably the lack of fangs.
Iruma didn’t have a choice he kept doing what he was supposed to do.
Sometimes Iruma didn’t know what to do. He was so small and everything was so big and he couldn’t take it he would just numb his mind, he remembers when he was younger he used to pull at his hair but his mom said he would look ugly bald. But she never said he couldn’t pick the hair on his tail, it’s not like anybody liked it. Sometimes Iruma would just mindlessly suckle the fur on his tail and pull hair out with his hands or teeth. It was so utterly relaxing.
Iruma no longer had food or milk that was hot but he had his warm drool and nice warm blood, he’s probably weird for saying that. But Iruma has been bad since he was born.
His parents gave his blanket back. Although it was too small for his body now, the light blue fluffy feeling comforted him. Iruma did not mind the stains—that was his! He didn’t think he could be happier. Despite how scary and bad he was, Iruma felt lucky for what he had. He’s such a lucky boy! He can’t make that any more clear.
Iruma was a lucky boy when he had his parents. Iruma’s world revolved around them, they were the most important people in the room. Iruma would let them do anything because they loved Iruma for what he was, a dirty nasty thing. Yet they still treated him with love, Iruma didn’t even speak anymore and they would scratch behind his ear. Though sometimes they would get angry and pull at it, Iruma didn’t know what mood they would be in. The few times they came they were happy and that made Iruma happy.
But one time they brought a strange person with them, his mother had lifted him by his scruff and Iruma went limp. He secretly wished she would’ve held him even for a moment and talking with the rough scary man, reminded Iruma of the many bosses he had to work with. He was old but Iruma didn’t care too much until he was slowly given into the older man's hands. Iruma didn’t like this one bit, they started saying something about going away for a little. Iruma knew those words there the same words they said when they left him in the forest.
Iruma didn’t want to be concerned, but he couldn’t help but feel his parents were giving him away. He knew they would never do that. They said that it was only for a short while, Iruma would be just fine—yes, he would. Surely they loved him too much, right?
Iruma doesn’t remember much, maybe it was the stress of being separated from his one territory and the one place his parents could find him but Iruma knows he took a lot of hair out of his tail. His tail had started to get bald patches, it wasn’t very pretty, it was quite gross. Iruma will save the details it’s not like he could see much. He had been placed in a cage much too tight for him. Iruma had grown a little bigger than a cat and that’s what the cage was for, but Iruma was more tween size than anything. He stayed put he didn’t even yowl.
All Iruma remembered was that there were a lot of sounds and yelling, he had been placed next to animals, real ones not half-breeds like him. Iruma started developing small wings out in the forest, he didn’t tell anybody, why would he? He couldn’t use them and only caused a little blood stain on his back, nothing more and nothing less. Iruma didn’t mind it, if anything they were only a slight annoyance. All you need to know is the small annoyance turned into a big annoyance when he came there.
He doesn’t remember what happened but he knows the small little nubs that protruded out of his back were clean off. Sometimes some men would dig deeper into the small holes they had made. He didn’t like that it hurt so much. So Iruma chooses not to remember it, it’s all hazy and Iruma is going to keep it that way. Hazey and gone forever, after that Iruma didn’t care much to move. He wasn’t motivated in the slightest. Usually, he would be but he couldn’t even bring himself to eat the dry pellets they gave, he just couldn’t.
When Iruma was dropped back into the forest, his parents were nowhere in sight. Iruma slightly hoped that they would be there to carry him to his little makeshift den and tell him everything would be okay, but they hadn’t. He was left to heave heavily on the floor alone. The baby blue collar turned his neck purple, and he could only close his eyes. He was very tired; he didn’t want to be so grown up. Just for a moment, Iruma wished he was a kitten again.
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Sullivan had a problem. Sullivan one of the three greats of the netherworld, tet in demon ranking and going on par with the missing demon king Derkila, Sullivan had a major problem. Sullivan a few hundred years back had gotten a child under the gauze that they were Sullivan's security devil. Sullivan spoiled and loved that child to death, They had pledged their life to him changed the way he viewed things, and stopped a bunch of problems happening in their younger years when they were a teen.
Truly they were the best child Sullivan could ask for. Though Sullivan wants to eat his words currently. It’s not that Opera wasn’t perfect it was that they had never worried the old man for so long, understand how Sullivan views his child, he deems Opera as an equal, he views them as the guardian of the straight-faced yet sweet cat demon. However lately Opera had been different it was the only thing Sullivan could describe as out of character for Opera, the now happily cleaning security devil had woken up late and couldn’t bother to tie their hair up into a neat braid.
They no longer wanted to go outside and certainly hadn’t been taking care of themselves. Sullivan concluded that Opera must have been getting sick. It had been so long since Opera had come down with something that it would make sense if they had. However, whenever Sullivan asked, the young adult only said they were physically fine.
Opera had been an enigma for weeks. Eventually, they couldn’t bring themselves to do their chores outside of their pajamas. They had thick eye bags. Slugged around the home, reluctantly and giving genuine glares to the older. Recently, they scratched Sullivan, an old habit that Opera hadn’t done since they were a kitten, it was so unlike them.
Though Sullivan wouldn’t be mad if Opera gave a swipe towards him. He did get too close to their personal space at the time. When a more powerful demon towered over you sometimes you’re instincts and feelings take over more than the silly power dynamic of rank. Sullivan didn’t mind he simply calmed Opera down, it was still unimaginable worrying to see.
Sullivan felt scared that their sweet little kitty looked like they dying right in front of his eyes. Maybe that would have been an exaggeration but even when Opera was sick they were much better than the Opera before him.
Opera lazed around much more. They hadn't done that since they were fourteen and couldn’t hang out with their new allies at the time, back then Opera had so much energy that they finished half the chores in a minute. Of course, Opera learned to pace and enjoy their daily tasks slowly, but now Opera was struggling to do them all and nipping at him.
Sullivan thought this was just depression a bad case from being in the same environment for so long but obviously, it probably had something to do with him. Sullivan came to this conclusion when Opera had finally gotten enough strength to go to school with him, they were surprisingly calmer and looked almost happily at all the new fledglings coming in and out of the courtyard. Had Opera been missing being a kitten or was it something else? Was that something else him?
Opera was so much more excited around the teachers and looked into classrooms much more than before. Sullivan was confused, had Opera grown tired of his presence? Now, Sullivan knows he’s not much but this is slowly breaking down his old barely beating heart. What had Sullivan done?!
Had he run Opera too hard, did he crash from his foolish behaviors and lazy attitude to paperwork? Had Opera’s annoying personality finally set off the other? When Sullivan was attacked Opera didn’t even try to help, they were staring at something Sullivan did not care to look at. Usually, Opera would catch that in the blink of an eye, but they hadn’t and Sullivan worried Opera had been rejecting his affection because he had grown too strong and too silly for the more serious cat. He would drop to his knees and cry but that would probably upset Opera, or would it?
Sullivan couldn’t take it anymore! He had to ask Opera what was wrong, but Sullivan did not want to disrupt the few moments Opera had alone just in case they did hate him. So Sullivan would just stalk, like a normal demon of course. He was going to find the information whether he liked it or not.
Sullivan did admit going to the school did indeed help Opera, maybe it was the change of scenery Sullivan wasn’t sure. But Opera had liked to hum, the usual quiet security devil sometimes likes to hum instead of talk, this later devolved into Opera singing a melody to themselves alone, it was something from Kalego a piano number. Sullivan wasn’t sure but Opera had sung it a lot, it made them happy so it made Sullivan happy too! And egg-shaped for some odd reason, one of Sullivans greatest powers
Even over the years as it changed and some bits were forgotten, Opera never stopped the habit.
That’s why now Sullivan was peeping through the safely opened door to the red-haired demon. Opera was on the ground many fabrics laid across with a small bit of stuffing. Sullivan had been attracted by the small humming but he was more intrigued now. Something about this wasn’t off it was just stunk of possessive tendencies. Sullivan realized that Opera had been sewing, it seemed they had finished a while ago. It was medium-sized, almost like the size of a baby and Opera's tail had been wagging. Not out of stress, anger, or agitation but contentment.
Sullivan didn’t think he saw anything more strange. What a strange sight indeed! Opera had looked so happy holding it up to face them head-on and then cuddling into it, sort of like Opera had needed the comfort of holding something that big.
…
…
Sullivan was at a loss, he had no idea what exactly that meant. It was supposed to be a big clue in finding out what was wrong with Opera yet Sullivan was at a complete loss. He didn’t understand what it meant at all. Opera needed comfort but it was a specific thing Sullivan couldn’t place. You must understand Sullivan is happy where he is he doesn’t need any help whatsoever he was quite one of the more respected and loved demons of the netherworld, but this had challenged him the hardest! So many harshipped he faced yet he couldn’t find out what was wrong with someone so dear to him.
So what did Sullivan do? Go to his allies for help AKA the three greats, they had to know what was wrong with Opera, maybe they would be as clueless as him.
…
…
…
Levi and Belial had laughed straight in his face. They had laughed and almost broke the table from how much they were getting a kick out of his pain. They tried to stop they did, they wanted to explain and they kept trying but then they would fall into uncontrollable laughter. Never in the millions of years had Sullivan heard them laugh so hard. His close allies could not help him and Sullivan cried because they still hadn’t stopped when the meeting was over. Sullivan only sighed and thought of his way to understand the smaller demon. They kept saying something like ‘Of course, you wouldn’t understand sully..’ and then just burst out laughing!!!
Sullivan would say he’s offended but over the few weeks, he had nothing on the cat demon. Only in that one scene had Sullivan gathered anything he was at a loss once again. But also now Opera was acting strange like they wanted to tell him something but chickening out at the last second. It must have been serious then! But Sullivan Physically cannot wait that long for redhead to do such a thing. So Sullivan decided to politely ask, like a normal person.
Sullivan innocently strolled over to Opera after dinner and tilted his head at them in a cheery sing-song voice.
“Is there something you wanted to ask me Opera?” Opera looked up as if they had gotten caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, a deer in headlights look. The cat ears on his head had gone into airplane mode and his tail swished almost happily. Opera didn’t say anything for a moment before hovering their hand over their mouth and softly speaking.
“I can’t tell you yet.”
Sullivan had failed again, hadn’t he, he should push Opera yes!
“Opera I won’t judge! is it something you want? I will give it to you, just share it with me please, you’ve been worrying me” Sullivan ends his sentence with a bittersweet tone. Opera had looked up confused and tilted their head. “Why have you been worried?” Genuine confusion was written all over the younger's face, had they not understood the gravity of their situation? Had they not seen the worry and horrible state they kept themselves in before? Oh, Opera must have been running on instinct.
“Opera for weeks you barely moved and you were so tired all of the time!!! You were so much less productive and sad. I couldn’t possibly bare to to see you that way! That’s why I must know what’s wrong with you, you are dear to me!” Sullivan put up his most childish act but everyone knows that it’s only out of pure concern, Opera widened their eyes more and quickly retorted
“I’m sorry…I was only thinking about something important to me.” Opera held a hand close to their chest, to many the tone would seem harsh and rude but to Sullivan, it was full of emotion from the otherwise monotone demon cat. Opera had sighed heavily. “It was a silly thing you don’t need to worry about.” Sullivan tilted his head big fat tears streaming down his eyes comically, he then grabbed Opera’s hands gently and spoke with a pitiful voice. “So you don’t hate me and want me to disappear for a million years”
Opera only tiredly sighed like a mother to their child, “Rest assured it has nothing to do with you. You silly man what are you saying, I pledged my life to you and you still say such stupid things” Sullivan pretended to be heartbroken by the harsh words but he couldn’t help but grin at the realization that no the security devil you’ve loved dearly for years has in fact not grown tired of you. But there was a beat of realization for Sullivan.
If that had not been the reason, then what had it been? What could have possibly been the drive for Opera’s strange behavior? Sullivan backed away, “Then what caused such a depressive episode? Don’t lie Opera!”
This brings Opera into a more alert stance like an animal being placed into a corner, but Sullivan knew very well that Opera was not going to run but face through telling their secret, no longer did Opera run from him, that thought had made him filled with joy. Even though he stares at the Opera airplane ears for everyone to see their anxiety. Even with Sullivans' glare Opera continues in the alert stance before quietly looking away from Sullivan's eyes almost ashamed, as they sigh taking a breath.
“If I tell you this you will not do anything rash. Am I understood?” Sullivan excitedly nodded his head, he was so excited to know and absolutely break every single promise he had just promised Opera. That’s just how things went with the two, he would always make his favorite cat happy!! What a dear Opera was, weren’t they?
“I-I had been thinking” Opera stops mid-sentence to look more at the floor. “That I wanted a kitten or a child if you will. Something I could take care of, and…love”
You could almost hear a pin drop from how quiet it was. What had Opera said?
“I’m sorry did I hear that correctly?” Opera huffed turning directly to Sullivan's eyes.
“I. Want. A. Child.” Ah, Sullivan had heard them correctly. Sullivan isn’t sure that’s possible no way would Opera carry or have a child, was Opera okay?
Opera is dealing with their problems at the moment, they had just gone through such a big depressive episode. Why on earth had Opera gone into a depressive episode from the thought of a child? What would happen if the child didn’t reciprocate correctly, Opera knew how to take care of adults but children. Sullivan can’t judge too much he wanted a grandson badly… No Sullivan should not get caught up in his selfish desires, this is not what Opera needed at the moment, is it? how could Sullivan bring a child into their weird situation? Hadn’t Opera been the one to say he shouldn’t get a grandchild?
Sullivan had to break that to Opera in no way was Opera genuinely ready for a child much less an infant, what had gotten into Opera’s head, he had to break it to them, quickly before Opera decided Sullivan was taking too long to respond.
“Opera…” Sullivan gulped nervous about the other's reaction as Opera as cool and calm as they could be they could react badly when in their own home, so said in the softest most apologetic tone he could muster. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
Opera quickly perked and tilted their head.
“Why?” More emotion came from the redhead's ears completely down against their head. Sullivan could guess the big storm that was coming from the other. Sullivan could not answer, it’s not that he’s against Opera having a child. He’s incredible for it but Opera currently had not been in the best state. However, Sullivan found it hard to express that in words and the cat demon had already made up what the other was about to say.
Opera had bristled tail puffing up in agitation keeping a calm front but you could tell in their eyes they had been angry, filling in the blanks sometimes had been opera’s specialty but when you’ve already rejected something Opera became slightly un-rational. The answer opera had made up had been off of his unsure face, and god Sullivan did not want to know what it was, but they had gotten angry, they wouldn’t show it not directly at least.
The cool voice echoed throughout the halls as Opera had said.
“Ah okay. I shall not bother you with this topic any longer”
To most that would’ve been fine a simple calm understanding of the rejection but Sullivan knows that as he turns around the claws scratching the purple wallpaper on his walls was not by accident. Oh, what had Sullivan done?
Opera must of really not liked that answer they had shouted from his room Sullivan heard it and he was incredibly guilty. The usually calm cat had turned angry and retreated to their room. They shouted how dare he say no and how dare he be so cruel. If you were wondering about Sullivan's heart it was in pieces it was long gone. Don’t ask about it again Sullivan had completely crumbled, truly it was his fault anyway but he couldn’t explain that Opera had been depressed if they barely noticed it. Of course, they would think they were in the right state of mind.
Sullivan had tried to explain over and over again what he meant but Opera somehow just got even more mad (although they didn’t show it), Sullivan had no idea what to do and if it wasn’t what Opera wanted the answer to be, Opera would cause mischief you could say.
So from then on Sullivans’ life had been torture, not really but it was funny. Well, Sullivan would’ve found it funny and did, if Opera had not become more depressed and obsessed with having a ‘kitten’ around. Sense Opera had been the butler for almost anything in the house, things in the house turned out to be redecorated by Opera. Redecorated or harshly changed to inconvenience Sullivan.
The portion size of his meals where now kid size and instead of tea he was only served milk. Opera would write notes about it and Sullivan could not escape Opera, they quiet literally ran his home for good reason as well. Sullivan honestly was not too against Opera having a child, he really wasn’t although, maybe it was the constant beat downs and their groceries being demeaned to baby formula and his walls being painted a light pastel purple instead of his dark purple. Maybe, Opera did way down on Sullivan's body just a little.
The way Opera talked and discussed having a child was when Opera looked happiest and smitten with the idea. Sullivan kept pondering on it and eventually after an embarrassingly long time Sullivan realized Opera was going threw a very weird random baby fever. Sullivans not sure if it’s random but Opera has always been attracted to smaller things and loved to take care of things. Nothing is really bad about it, it’s just funny to think about, Opera had grown so much under Sullivan's care, hadn’t they?
I guess Sullivan understands why he didn’t get it initially, Sullivan has never had baby fever unlike his other allies, he understands why they were laughing. It was very obvious now that Sullivan thinks about it. And honestly, it was quite funny, bitterness and confusion only turned into laughter, and that’s how most things ended anyway. Sullivan has never had a baby fever because he had gotten Opera long before he could ever care for it, also Derkila. Being a security devil to an impulsive man is hard work, so maybe Opera could get a child. He would have a grandson it would all be very nice and a win-win if you will.
Also, Sullivan needs to save his furniture before it’s completely destroyed.
At the time he thought of that he looked outside to see that day had become night, he had almost finished his work and Sullivan decided that he would leave it there for the day. Then tomorrow he shall tell Opera the very good news. Everything would be just fine.
A long beat as Sullivan had his arm on his cheek a feather in the other.
He froze in confusion. Something was very off, Sullivan hadn’t felt this feeling in a long while. It had been so long that you could say he was startled. He hadn’t been startled in a millennium that brought more interest into his mind than anything else. Sullivan is confused, is he being summoned at the moment? Summoned not by Henri or the three greats but to a place he hasn’t been in forever, the human world? How exciting was this, yes?
Sullivan usually wouldn’t but he was so curious about why now. Was this fate he couldn’t tell? But he wanted to be entertained nonetheless and who are a few humans begging not to cure his boredom? So what did Sullivan do? He gently poofed into blue smoke as the summoning was something he just couldn’t miss now, was it?
Humans are such pesky creatures really, their naivety is something Sullivan adores. However, humans are preyed on which causes them to be separated from the netherworld. So soft and delicate and sweet-scented, although Sullivan didn’t care to eat demons most of the time people couldn’t help themselves from eating a human whole. And demons have horrible self-preservation, however, now Sullivan has no idea how humans have changed he visits but only every couple hundred years. So to see the very bright blue hair in front of him only intrigued him more.
One had been male with short hair with two annoying tufts at the top of his head and the other long-haired with a pink sweater, truly not too notable. They hadn’t even realized they summoned him because Sullivan was of high rank he did things at a higher rate than most demons weaker than him. Sullivan expected them to cower but was also somewhat proud of what they had done, finding Sullivan's seal was not an easy feat yet they had done it. But before Sullivan could even think another word a very sing-songy voice came from the couple.
“I am Sullivan, the demon you have summoned what is it that you desire?” A harsh scary voice comes from the much taller staring directly down at the humans.
“Oh! Oh my god, we did it!!” the woman had said. “Hi, mister demon!! What did the book say your name was? Oh it doesn’t matter, does it? Right honey?” The man only nodded happily. Completely ignoring Sullivan's words.
Sullivan was slightly confused, he had never seen people so happy to summon a demon.
“No, I don’t think it does he’s contracted by us! Also, you can’t hurt us Right demon that’s right isn’t it?” The man chuckled staring directly into the harsh scary eyes of Sullivan, maybe humans have grown to not know what a predator is after all. He should clear up their confusion quickly.
“Mmm well yes bu-”
“Oh great great great, wonderful Okay let us get straight to what we want. We don’t need logistics here!” The women giggled cutting off the now new name demon. Why were they sort of annoying, thank god they don’t have any kids. I’m sure they would ask for money if they looked like they needed it. Their clothing looks somewhat messed up, how amusing, they had summoned him in a shabby basement, so it wouldn’t be too surprising.
“What is it you desire young humans?” Sullivan asked once again.
“What do we desire?” They said in unison as if they were one brain cell. They thought for a moment before laughing and saying “Wasn’t it obvious? Money! You know like gold and stuff, demons are kind of like dragons you hoard that stuff, right?” The male said excitedly.
Sullivan sighed at the voice as he looked down at the beaming humans. “So what is it that you will trade?” The couple looked at him in confusion and then blankly at each other. “Oh yes! We must make a deal. Oh, haha, we almost forgot! Yes, we have something in exchange. Also, we want to be super rich!” Sullivan nodded. “So what is it?”
“Our son!”
They said that way too happily for Sullivan to have heard them correctly, their son?
“Yes! Hold on we should get him, shouldn’t we? We picked him up a little while ago, he’s dirty but if you clean him up he’s quite cute!” The woman giggled without a care in the world putting her palms together by her cheek. “Go get him honey!” The man looked up a little startled by the request but happily strolled up the stairs before saying a quick “Aye Dear!” the darker blue-haired male ran up the stairs.
His name is Iruma! Though… we do have to say he’s more of a thing than a human. But he’s quite polite! He will do anything you say. Such a sweet thing, he can get annoying he used to talk but was not sure what happened” Sullivan was even more confused now what exactly were they describing if he were not human? Was Sullivan going threw a daydream?
He didn’t have time to think before the short-haired man came down with a boy in his arms, barely conscious and most likely sleeping. The boy looked dazed and unresponsive for the most part. The older man's harsh handling didn’t bother him, as the boy wasn’t scared—he was purring. Sullivan couldn’t place it until he finally saw the cat ears on the head of the cyan-headed boy. Ah, that’s what they were talking about. The logistics of how that was possible confused Sullivan yet he couldn’t care too much as the boy seemed to have been extremely malnourished and dirty, anything from what a fledgling should look like. The boy couldn’t have been older than eleven years old. Maybe younger.
The light-haired woman with long hair had asked for the fledgling to be in her hands as she showed the small boy off like a prize. Sullivan had never felt such anger, a case of such abuse hasn’t been seen in ever in his life. This was another level of hurting your kin it was downright disgusting when he was placed into Sullivan's hands, blood coating multiple parts of his body yet he was breathing softly. He must have fallen asleep and that made Sullivan angry.
Nothing you could do could upset Sullivan yet the parents of the small obviously demon had completely changed Sullivan's mood. This was no longer a joke or toy this was a crime. A crime so unforgivable the oldest demons would have your head on a steak. But Sullivan would play along for now. He calmly smiled and said something like ‘This will be sufficient’ a hard glare striking down on them noticeably. The humans didn’t know that he simply shook their hand and the fine print of their deal was complete if only they had stopped to read the fickle little thing.
But Sullivan didn’t care about that now, the once sleepier child purring into his parents (if one could call them that) had realized he no longer was with them. No, he was with a taller man with big horns and a terrifying aura. Sullivan was sure he had heard but the heavy heaving on lead Sullivan to put the boy back to sleep. Poor thing was probably having a panic attack, who wouldn’t to abandon you’re fledgling is a one-way ticket to extreme stress and many evil cycles, they were very open about it too. Treated the small dear as a suitcase more than anything, he was so dirty with matted and a tail missing hair, it was probably infected but Sullivan's main priority was getting home at the moment.
Sullivan rubbed a soft hand over the boy's back, and so what if he noticed the lack of a wing root, that wasn’t important. Right now what was important was getting the stressed fledgling into a safe home, his home.
What a lucky thing to happen, maybe it was fate and what a lucky fate it was Sullivan couldn’t wait to show Opera. Opera would definitely have their hands full now, Sullivan is sure they will. And happiness only took over his instinct as he realized that he most likely had a grandson now. What a lucky man Sullivan is surrounded by Kittens for the rest of his life, yes that’s the only life he needed.
Sullivan opened the door and proudly looked for their beloved security devil, Opera had been making tea that was probably for them but none the less excitedly Sullivan called out the other name proudly presenting the new addition to the very empty mansion.
The trey opera had been holding was dropped as a shocked cat could be seen caught off guard threw the hallway.
This was going to be fun, wasn’t it?