Demon Summoning for Idiots [BNHA x female reader]

Aizawa

You take another look at what you've got in your hand. An energy drink might not be the perfect substitute for human blood, but it's liquid (full of vitamin C!) and red (strawberry flavor!), so it shouldn't be a problem, right?

You uncap it and pour the entire thing into the middle of your summoning circle, and you probably should have put a tarp down or something, but you're tired. Desperately tired. Maybe if you could get a decent night's sleep, you wouldn't do stupid shit like ruin your carpet or attempt to summon a demon, but this is what you've been reduced to: summoning unholy beings to try and fix your insomnia.

You've drawn the summoning circle already, and who needs to struggle with chalk or salt when you have magic marker? It's called magic marker. Seriously, you're crushing this whole demon summoning thing. You light the candles, chant the spell (or something close to it, it's not like you're fluent in ancient languages) and wait.

Nothing happens. You wait some more. A candle flickers in the dimly-lit room. Maybe this is the magic. Maybe it's supposed to magically bore you to sleep.

The candles flicker wildly, all of them at once. The circle glows red. The book jumps, jerking itself across the circle like a spider, and you suddenly have to concentrate very hard on not screaming.

All the lights go out. You're plunged into darkness. You give up and scream for a long, long time.

The electric wall lights flicker back on. Your screaming tapers off and you look warily around. The book is completely destroyed, the candles blackened, whatever liquids you dumped onto your carpet completely evaporated. And in the middle of what's left of the summoning circle—

A small black cat.

"What the fuck," you say.

"Mow," says the cat.

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It's a very crotchety cat, and you know this because it tried to bite you when you first picked it up. It's fine. Cats generally don't like you, and you've long come to a depressed, disappointed peace with that, but this is a demon cat (and you know that because cats don’t normally come with glowing red eyes). Your demon cat. You summoned it, and so you get to keep it, and care for it and cuddle it and squish it and—

The cat whaps your face with its paw, looking even more crotchety, but you absolutely do not care, because you get to keep a cat.

---

It takes a good hour for it to stop growling at you. It looks horribly put-out, and you wonder if it was in the middle of some very important demon business when you summoned it.

You hold out a plate of salmon, and learn that it can, apparently, be bribed.

---

You don't have a bed for it yet, and secretly, you're hoping deep down that this cat is some magical panacea that'll put you to sleep like a triple dose of ambien. Also, it's small and fluffy and super freaking cute, so you win either way.

It looks unimpressed with your bed. You hold out your arm invitingly, completely on board with the idea of begging animals to cooperate with you.

"Come on, please? It's really soft! You'll like it! Just try it!"

It sniffs, and you're preparing yourself to watch it snub your bed just like it did the rest of your apartment, but after a long, long pause, it hops up and sits neatly on the duvet.

You stare for a good thirty seconds, and it looks at you expectantly. You throw yourself into the bed, sending it sprawling indignantly, and start petting. It's probably going to get bored halfway and take off, and you want to get in all the nice, warm, quality petting you can before that happens.

The last thing you remember before drifting into the best sleep you've had in weeks is just how wonderfully soft and furry it feels.

---

You spend the next week in a daze. All you can focus on is rushing through work, clocking out as soon as quitting time hits, and getting back to your apartment as fast as humanly possible, because cat.

Unfortunately, the book is toast. Literally toast, burned to ashes in your summoning attempt. This means you don't have any guide on how to properly care for small, furry demon animals, and you spend your evenings trying to figure it out.

It likes human food. It detests cat food. It likes baths. It hates the adorable cat clothing you bought for it. It likes watching the TV. It avoids dogs like the plague.

It reacts to your conversations with it like it understands you, which shouldn't be that surprising. You get into the habit of treating it like a roommate, and slowly, so slowly, it seems to get used to sharing your apartment.

After a couple of weeks, it grudgingly allows you to wrap a little scarf around its neck, and you almost die from happiness.

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