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The cauldron sat on the burner, its contents bubbling away and stabilizing to a flat grayish blue. Perfect. According to his notes, now was the perfect moment to add 2.83 grams of crystallized drakenbriar pollen. 3.62 grams had been disastrous, and 2.36 had rendered the concoction absolutely unusable. Taking account of the secondary effects of a basilisk’s venom, 2.83 should work…
Satan measured it carefully, then frowned at the scale.
2.831 grams.
It had to be exact.
He picked up the tweezers, plucking the delicate crystals one by one and watching the scale adjust.
2.825 grams.
He cursed, digging through the bottle to find a smaller sized crystal.
2.829 grams.
Dammit.
He removed a few more crystals, fussing with the various sizes and shaking the bottle to find one that looked the appropriate size. He was wasting time. The longer it boiled, the less water would be left in the elixir. Less water meant the ratios would be altered, and he’d have to start over again.
2.83 grams.
Finally.
He breathed a sigh of relief, picking up the paper and pouring the delicate crystals in with one quick stir, then left it to let them dissolve.
Now he just needed to boil it for… three minutes and twelve seconds.
He sat down, checking the flame and measuring its heat with the palm of his hand. By now he trusted his own senses far more than any readings or instruments. The flames were a bit low, but the heat was strong. It should be steady enough, but…
He murmured a simple spell, feeding the fire with his aura while pushing all his previous rejected attempts to the side. Numerous pots and flasks filled with poisons that were effective, but disappointing. Most would easily put out any lesser demon, a few might even knock out a hellephant.
All were absolute garbage.
The flames flickered to life anew, invigorated with his mana. Two minutes and forty seven seconds left.
He placed his elbows on the desk, resting his forehead on his clasped hands and breathing out a deep, slow breath. Please, just let this be the one.
It’d been hours that he’d spent here, his desk absolutely covered in loose pages with notes and crossed out formulas. A few were still damp from when he’d accidentally knocked over his vial of basilisk venom.
That had been a nightmare to clean up.
He didn’t even go home last night, too caught up in his efforts to check the time. When he’d realized the hour, he just decided to stay and continue working. Going home only to sleep for a few hours seemed like such a waste, especially when he was so close.
Or so he’d thought.
The assignment was simple really, replicate the professor’s special poison with only the tools and hints they’d given throughout the semester. Technically, he’d completed it at least a dozen times over.
But none of them were good enough. Not when he knew he could improve it.
He adjusted in his seat, rubbing his eyes and reaching to check the timer on his D.D.D.
Ten seconds left.
He’d done this so many times now he was starting to anticipate when it was ready.
He stood up and put heat-resistant gloves on, preparing to remove the cauldron off the heat the moment the alarm went off. Just as the first chime rang, he picked it up and hovered a palm underneath the base, murmuring a simple freezing curse to begin cooling the elixir. Over-boiling ruined its efficacy, breaking down the compounds in the pollen far more than he would’ve liked. That’s what he discovered with poisons #6, #17, and #24.
The metal of the cauldron heated and cooled, caught between the curse and boiling liquid, until eventually it brought its contents to a balanced lukewarm temperature. Unable to help himself, he leaned over it, watching as the blue began to darken into the deepest shade of violet he’d seen yet.
“It’s… perfect.” he whispered, forgetting himself for a moment and inhaling the vapor. Instantly he felt woozy, and he set the cauldron down before he could risk dropping it.
He braced his hands on the desk, blinking a few times and taking deep breaths while he waited for his vision to settle.
None of the others had been this potent. It might even be strong enough to sedate Lucifer.
He chuckled, turning to scan the shelves for an available vial, something pristine with the clearest glass to show its violet hue.
Well, it might not be that potent, but the thought of testing it was… tempting.
Very tempting.
After this assignment, he might make a second batch.
He smiled to himself and selected a bottle before sitting down again and pushed his papers aside. He was not about to spill all over his notes again.
Delicately, he placed the funnel in the bottle and poured the contents in and filled it to the neck, capping it with a stopper. There was actually just enough left to…
No second batch needed.
Even better.
He found a smaller vial, pouring the remaining poison in it and adding a stopper to it as well, slipping this one in his pocket.
Now all that was left was collecting his notes and cleaning this up…
He sighed, gathering his papers and checking which scribblings were necessary to keep and which were-
“Hey, Satan, whatcha got there?”
He glanced up to find Mammon, who’s greeting was clearly nothing more than a courtesy. He wasn’t even looking at him, too focused on his rejects.
“Just finishing the final touches for our assignment that I assume you finished too?”
“Huh?” he blinked, then grinned, “Y-yeah, totally! I finished it last night.”
“Mm,” he hummed, putting his papers and poison #37 in his bag. “So you don’t have any need of these? That’s good to know.”
“Wait! I didn’t say that! I uh, was uh…” his eyes flashed briefly, “I had a new business idea. Yeah!”
“A new business idea with poisons?” He didn’t even try to hide the skepticism in his voice, more focused on keeping the one he needed out of Mammon’s sight.
“Yeah it’s uh, well… I was gonna sell them to… uh…”
“If you want a passing grade,” he interrupted, gesturing to the spread, “I would pick one from this area. If you clean this up, you’re welcome to have them.”
“Really?” Mammon’s expression was so obviously delighted it was almost amusing. Yet somehow, his brother had an impeccable poker face when playing cards.
“Yeah, why not?”
He was too tired to clean it up himself, and Mammon would just try to steal one anyway.
“Awesome, you’re the best Satan!”
He hummed, walking past him, “Just don’t forget to clean up.”
“Right, yeah.” He was already at the desk, picking up and looking at the different bottles he’d gestured to and holding them up to the light.
Well, he might still fail if they questioned him on how he made it.
Or maybe he’ll get lucky.
He shrugged, leaving the mess for Mammon to deal with while he went to search for the professor. Students wandered the halls, clearing the way for him as he passed. He must look more fatigued than normal; they usually gave him a wider berth whenever he looked mildly irritated or tired. Sometimes it annoyed him, but… it was also more convenient than he’d willingly admit.
A line of students was already beginning to form in front of the office door and he sighed, taking his place in line and leaning against the wall. After this he’d go home and go to bed.
“Next.”
One student left the office, and another entered. The line shuffled forward and he closed his eyes, the hours spent starting to catch up with him.
He should’ve known there’d be a secondary reaction with the pollen and venom. He should’ve known that. If he had, it wouldn’t have taken him so long.
“Next.”
A few more steps. A few more students entered and left one by one. Soon enough, he was the next one waiting.
“Next.”
He nodded to the lesser demon of Sloth as they left, then stepped into the office.
“Good morning, Professor-“
“Ah, Satan!” They greeted him warmly, standing up from their desk. “I had a feeling you’d be one of the first to turn the assignment in.”
“Well, yes.” he said with a smile, setting the bag down on the chair and retrieving the bottle. “I will admit it was a little challenging, but after a few iterations I was able to improve the-“
“This is remarkable!” They moved around the desk and took the bottle from him, holding it up and inspecting its color in the light. “It’s even purer than the version I showed in class. How did you manage that?”
A warm feeling stirred in his chest, and he smiled, “It wasn’t easy, I’ll admit. I was able to replicate it well enough after a few tries, but I wasn’t satisfied. Each time I realized there were subtle changes that could improve it, so I made adjustments and added to my notes until I was able to create the version you have before you.”
“Amazing,” they murmured, that warm feeling stirring further, “Truly amazing, Satan. Well done.”
“Tha-“
“I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised you’d go above and beyond,” they added, turning their back and setting his poison down amongst the others, “Lucifer has always been diligent too.”
“… What.”
The warm feeling was gone, having been nothing but a whisper of a flame snuffed out by Lucifer’s frigid name.
They looked over their shoulder with an unknowing smile, “I’ll be sure to show him this. I imagine he’ll be rather proud of you!”
“Great.” He met their smile with a strained one of his own, putting his hand on his chest and bowing his head. “If there’s nothing else, I should get going.”
“Yes, yes. Always busy, aren’t you?” They chuckled, sitting down again and marking his grade down. “Would you mind sending in the next student?”
“Sure.”
He picked up his bag and turned on his heel, opening the door with a bit more force than necessary and glaring at the student who met his gaze.
“Next.” he said flatly, watching them cower and slink passed him into the office, shutting the door behind them.
This is remarkable.
He forced a laugh, ignoring the murmurings of the students around him as he started to walk away.
Amazing. Truly, amazing.
Why was it always like this?
Well done.
“Hey, Satan. Are you…?”
He stopped, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair.
Lucifer has always been diligent too.
Why was it always like this?!
“Satan…?”
Why?!
A loud crack followed by a scream snapped him back to reality.
Pain followed.
His fist was embedded in the brick, shrapnel still falling as cracks splintered outward from the blow. The students who had been waiting in line were all huddled by the door, staring at him wide-eyed.
“What?” he snapped, yanking his fist out of the wall. “You’ve never seen a demon punch a wall before?” He glared at the wall, focusing his intent both at it and himself, and raised his hand.
“Fix yourself.”
He snapped his fingers, threads of green sprouting from the point of impact and latching onto every piece, every shard. One by one, they reorganized themselves and mended, returning the brick to its former state.
“Good.”
Mask returning, if only just barely, he picked up his bag and strode through the halls, ignoring anyone who even dared try to greet him. Not here. He would not lose it here.
Lucifer.
Lucifer.
Always Lucifer.
He kicked his bedroom door open and chucked his bag across the room, missing his bed and toppling over a pile of books.
“Great.” he laughed without humor. Of course.
He swept his arm, sending more scattering across the floor.
Fuck it.
He kicked another over with the heel of his shoe, his laughter flirting with the edge of derangement as he watched his precious tomes fall, some spines denting and pages crinkling.
It didn’t matter.
It didn’t fucking matter.
What good was it to even try?
Did he have his own voice?
Did he even have a face?
Or did that belong to Lucifer too?
That damn bastard.
He leaned back against the door, holding his head in his hands.
Stop.
Stop it.
Stop getting angry.
This wasn’t the kind of anger he wanted to be.
He struck his fist against the door, rattling it in its hinges, but it remained sturdy.
Control it.
Control it.
He slid down the door until he sat on the floor, squeezing his eyes shut.
Control.
Control…
It hurt.
It hurt so much.
Why couldn’t he just let go?
Why couldn’t he just give up?
It’d be so much easier to just let it win…
Let it-
His throat felt tight, burning in a way that stung his eyes.
What…
What was this feeling?
It rose in his chest, clawing up his throat and blurring his vision. Tears began to form, hot and heavy, quickly saturating his lashes and spilling down his cheeks.
Was he…?
Didn’t crying mean sorrow?
He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to swallow this feeling down.
Sorrow?
He wasn’t mourning.
Stop it.
Just-
His D.D.D. began to sing a familiar tune, one he’d set specifically for you. You’d never know the gift your distraction was for him. He inhaled a ragged breath, wiping his eyes and trying to calm his breathing. His D.D.D. sang again, another message from you.
Must be important…
Maybe you needed help with something?
He forced himself to stand, using the door for support. His throat felt tight, his eyes burned, and his chest still clung to this raw feeling deep inside.
But he wanted to know what you’d sent him.
Careful not to step on any of his books, he made his way through the mess and picked up his bag to retrieve his D.D.D. He unlocked the screen and sat down on his bed, tapping on your notifications to load the messages.
Hey!
Are you finished with classes yet?
Look!
Madam Screams made black cat cupcakes for a special sale today, aren’t they cute??
Yes, that is very cute.
I knew you’d like it!
As soon as I saw them I just had to send you a picture.
Of course… they wouldn’t let me take a picture without buying one…
So I bought two! I’m almost back at RAD, do you want to meet up so we can share them?
I’m actually at home right now, but I appreciate the thought.
Oh
Well okay then! I’ll meet you there instead!
You’re going to go all the way home just to give me a cupcake?
Yep!
No one’ll appreciate the cute kitty face like you would, not even Beel.
He’d probably just eat it and not even realize it looked like a kitty
That’s okay, right? You won’t tattle on me for skipping my afternoon classes?
I don’t see why I would. What you do with your day is your business.
Ah hah, that’s true!
See you in a bit then!
He couldn’t think of what else to say, so he let the conversation end there. Just…
You texted him. Because you saw some cupcakes that looked like cats.
He laughed once, his vision blurring again but this time the tears didn’t burn so hot.
No one’ll appreciate the cute kitty face like you would, not even Beel.
He leaned forward and held his face in his hand, clutching his D.D.D. tight while he let the tears fall.
How…
How could a human calm him so effortlessly with one simple gesture?
Unknowingly, and without a cause…
He dragged his hand across his face, looking at the mess before him.
He should clean this up before you arrive, or at least return it to a state similar to what you’d seen before.
You may not know that you helped calm his soul just now, and he wasn’t yet ready to tell you that you had.
Not until he understood the reason you affected him in this way.
He’d just finished stacking the last book when you knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
You opened the door, holding up the box with a bright smile. “I tried to be extra sneaky in the halls so Beel wouldn’t try and take them from me.”
“Funny,” he glanced at you briefly, then looked at the book again, adjusting it ever so slightly, “He’s still on campus though, so sneaking wasn’t necessary.”
“Might’ve been why it felt so easy…” you mumbled to yourself, padding across his room. “Oh well!” You plopped down on his bed, patting a spot beside you with a smile. “C’mon, come sit! I’ve been dying to try these! Everyone in the store looked so happy eating them.”
“You waited to eat with me?”
You rolled your eyes and nodded, patting again, more insistently this time. “Yes obviously. I didn’t get all excited about kitty cupcakes just to not eat them with you.”
Yes. That did make sense. Perfect sense.
Still…
He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes averted as he moved to sit near you. “You know I don’t normally eat in my room.”
“Yeah, well, don’t eat messy then.” You said, opening the box and presenting the cupcakes. Two kittens nestled snug together with big candied eyes and adorable cookie ears.
“Go ahead, pick one!”
“They’re the same, aren’t they?”
You pouted, lowering the box a little. “You’re not nearly as excited as I thought you’d be…”
“Oh, I… um,” He picked up the one on the left, holding it in his hands and leaning to rest his elbows on his knees, “I just had a late night, that’s all. A school project took me more time than I expected, and I’m a little tired.”
“… Okay.” You took out the other and set the box on the bed, scooting closer to him. “So, where do we start? Candy nose? Cookie ears? They look so cute, don’t they!”
“Yeah.” He stared at it, its small candied mouth looked so… happy. “Very cute.”
“It almost feels wrong eating it, doesn’t it?”
“Mm.”
Being in your presence brought a different feeling of warmth to his soul. One that felt… calm. Peaceful. It almost made it feel like the previous turmoil was nothing but a distant memory, a fading dream. Was he really just tired? Surely a simple cupcake wouldn’t pacify him so easily like this.
“Hello, Satan, can you hear me?” you asked, waving your hand in front of his face.
“What?” He turned to see you kneeling on the bed, facing him.
You sighed and shook your head, “You must really be tired. You didn’t even hear anything I said, did you?”
“Oh, no I didn’t.” He gave you a half-hearted smile, “Would you mind repeating it?”
You… stared at him, your eyes narrowing slightly as you took in his expression. Almost as if you were studying him.
“… What?”
“Are you okay?”
He tensed briefly, then closed his eyes and smiled again. “Of course I’m okay, why do you ask?”
“Because you don’t look okay.”
“Mm,” he removed the paper lining from the cake, bringing it up to his mouth to take a bite. “That’s a little harsh. I told you I was tired.”
“Yeah, but tired or not it seems like something’s bothering you.”
He sighed, wanting to shut this down before it could get started. “Even if there was, it’s not something I want to discuss with you.”
“Hmph,” you shifted again, sitting next to him and crossing your legs. “Fine, don’t talk then.”
To his relief, you seemed content to let it end, happily eating your cupcake with pleased hums every now and then.
To his surprise, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Just so you know, anytime you do want to talk. I’ll be here.”
Warmth embraced his heart, and the tightness in his throat made it hard to swallow the last bite of cake. He crumpled the paper lining in his hand, holding it tight in his fist.
“… Thank you,” he murmured, finding a sense of… comfort… with you leaning against him. That had to be what this was. Comfort.
“I’ll be sure to remember that.”