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“Satan, c’mon kid. You gotta eat yer greens.” Mammon prods the spoonful of mushed up green peas, earning a disheartened grumble from the younger brother.
Satan, a young child, had developed a stronger attitude than before. He went from a cute baby with a voice of a loud siren to a toddler with sass, prone to retaliation.
“No!” Satan hisses, baring his baby teeth as a form of intimidation. It never worked on him, it just made Mammon want to pinch the boy’s cheeks and fawn over him.
“Come on, buddy,” Mammon sighs briefly, his eyes turning away from his baby brother to look at his other younger brothers eating at the table. Eyes full of scorn and annoyance that pierced through him.
“If he doesn’t want to eat, then let him.” Asmodeus chides, seemingly done with all the ruckus in the morning. “Stop forcing the brat to eat.”
There was nobody else but the four of them in the room. Beel and Belphie were sleeping in today, and Lucifer was probably pulling another all-nighter inside of his room. Mammon hadn’t seen him in four days straight, it was becoming worrisome.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Asmo.” Mammon flashes a scowl at the fifth-born. A mixture of “what the hell is wrong with you?” and “shut up” written on his face.
“Just get him to shut up.” Leviathan grumbled under his breath, digging his fork into the scrambled eggs on his plate, the clinking of utensils intensified to show his anger. “It’s six in the morning, I can’t take all his whining and growling.”
Mammon rolled his eyes and evidently ignored his brothers, pretending that they were never at the table in the first place. They all acted like Satan wasn’t sitting right there, understanding and taking in every harsh word that was aimed at him. The blond kid felt his blood boil by just the sound of his older brothers ganging up on him, making him squirm in his baby chair.
“Why!.. You!!” Satan gritted his teeth, the fuming hot waves of anguish and irritation surrounded him as he tried to climb out, trying to stand up on his little feet and turning towards Leviathan’s direction.
“Satan! Deep breaths-” Mammon bolted up from his seat, almost dropping the bowl of crushed peas, it safely landed on the table. “Satan, look at me, okay?” Mammon urged the younger, bending down a little to meet the boy’s height at the baby chair. “Leviathan didn’t mean that. He’s just a little down in the dumps t’day.” A scoff could be heard across the table.
“Of COURSE HE MEANT IT!” Satan shrieked with fury, pointing at the purple-haired brother accusingly. Satan’s face was red with dishevelled breathing. A large hand reached over his shoulder, a touch that had the intention of comfort- but that irritated the boy even more. “I am NOT a BRAT!” He stamped his foot in distress, his tiny body shaking.
“You’re not a brat, Tan-Tan.” Mammon’s voice is soft and gentle, free from harm. God? When will he just stop pitying him! He didn’t need pity!
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Satan wailed, slapping Mammon’s hand off of him. A wave of guilt struck Mammon like a truck but he had no choice but to back off.
Asmodeus tsked. “He’s having another meltdown again.” He loudly declared across the table, Leviathan nodding along with a look of disgust at the small child.
“He’s just trying to be the centre of attention again. We never even agreed to letting him live here. I can’t believe Lucifer just brought him in and expects us to take care of him.” Leviathan muttered, clearly aware of the raging child that wanted to beat him to a pulp.
“Enough, Levi.” Mammon growled, it was very clear it was a warning. His sky blue eyes weren’t so friendly-looking anymore, they looked dangerous.
“I NEVER ASKED TO LIVE WITH YOU!” Satan screamed, his high-pitched voice cracking in the midst. Mammon felt his heart break at the phrase, he was desperate to calm down the unbridled fury in front of him.
“You never wanted a brother but I never wanted to be here!” Satan’s face crumbled for a second, the brokenness plastered on his face was the face he never wanted to see on his little brother again. Though the little boy’s anger overwhelmed the secondary emotions, his face scrunched as if he was at the verge of tears.
“You aren’t our brother.” Asmodeus stared at him with a melancholy tone. “You are Lucifer’s but you aren’t ours.” That’s when things started to crack. Satan paused as if he stopped breathing, the words gutting him open like a fish- He wanted to gag out his insides at the mention of his creator. That name. It was all HIS fault.
A clenched fist with shaky breaths, the tiny kid let out a god awful screech of a rampage. He grabbed his bowl of crushed peas and hurled the green mush straight into Asmodeus’s head. For a moment there, Satan felt doubt flood his senses. Regret coming in right after. Panic began to rush through him, giving his adrenaline another kick. A loud splat could be heard, followed by a gasp of disbelief Leviathan beside him.
“YOU!” Asmodeus stood up, kicking the seat away. The demon of lust’s eyes smouldered with hatred as he slowly transformed into his demon form. The peas still messily splattered all over his face and perfect hair but he was too upset to care. Asmodeus flapped his wings as they spread out, intentionally hovering over the baby demon to frighten him by making himself bigger.
Satan’s anger seemed to dissipate within an instant, his anger being replaced with immediate fear as his eyes narrowed. The brother points his horns at him, Satan having no choice but to cower backwards in distraught.
“How DARE you sabotage my FACE with CRUSHED PEAS!? I have to condone with your STUPID behaviour EVERY SINGLE DAY!!”
Satan shakes, helpless in such a situation. A little boy next to an avatar, a battle with a victor already chosen.
“You’re just a stupid little brat.” Leviathan snarled, Asmodeus steps closer and closer.
“You’re nothing but a burden for all of us!”
He had always been yelled at for something he can’t control, it was so hard to control his anger when he is the manifestation of Lucifer’s anger himself. He was the anger, the vessel he had was anger. He couldn’t hold it all in and in the end, he would have to suffer the consequences. He felt himself shut his eyes tightly as he watched him take a step forward, expecting a slap across the face. Maybe a punch even.
A few seconds passed and surprisingly, nothing came.
—
Satan stared at the ceiling in his bedroom, the moonlight shining onto the dull grey colours of his bed. He was supposed to be asleep at these ungodly hours, even Leviathan would’ve shut off his computer and headed to bed. Not with what happened that day, his heart pumped a little faster just by the flashback. It hurted a lot, living in constant fear and the knowledge of not being wanted. He was just a clone of Lucifer, a replacement of Lilith. He wasn’t a being of his own, he wasn’t his own person.
It felt like a big slap in the face when he was birthed, full of anger but why was he angry? He got angry because he didn’t know, and he got angry because he got angry over getting angry at himself. An endless loop of anger he couldn’t escape because the slightest expression would have him being thrown out the window by any second now.
His gaze was shattered the minute a light creeped open by his front door, a shadowy tall figure with white hair stood by the door frame. He looked indecisive, trying to peek through to see if Satan was sleeping peacefully. Apparently, quite the opposite.
A shrill pang of annoyance flooded the blond boy, he didn’t want to see him right now. He turned his body away from the door, facing the wall near the window. The footsteps got louder towards him before it stopped abruptly.
“Hey, lil’ buddy.” Mammon greeted sheepishly, bending over and sitting on his knees as he kneeled close to his brother’s bed. “I know yer ‘wake. Yer bad at hidin’ it.” A small chuckle escaped his lips. Satan wanted him to throw him across the room and scream at him for bothering him but the thought of doing it hurted his heart and head. The only thing the kid let out was a low mumble, earning Mammon a whole-hearted grin. The only issue was… Something felt off. His face was plagued by fatigue and light eyebags formed underneath his eyes. He swore he saw a mark on his cheek somewhere, something a little red but Satan didn’t want to question it.
“Wanna read a bedtime story, yeah? Sorry for bein’ late, I had to deal with some things.” Mammon stood up, already walking around searching for a book around Satan’s messy room. It was already filled with books, the kid loved reading and Mammon made sure Satan’s hobby never died. So, he’d read him a book every single night, even if it was repetitive and boring. Sometimes, Satan would even read the book for Mammon instead.
Satan heard some shuffling in his room, sounds of books being pulled out of the shelves and being put back in before Mammon let out a quiet “Aha!” The older brother hurried back to his spot, the blond boy still refusing to speak to the other. He felt cold. Under all the warmth in that blanket he felt ice cold with his surface tangled in sheets.
“How ‘bout this one?” Mammon mused, cracking open the cute picture book with three demons and a human on the cover. It was probably a demon version of “Goldilocks” but it was still a popular item in Devildom. “Heya, remember this book? It’s the book ‘bout the human who visited the demon realm. Cool, right?’ The white haired boy enthusiastically turned to the first page, reading the first line out loud.
“Once upon a time, there was a young lil’ lady named Goldie. Her hair was made up in golden curly locks, hence her nickname- Goldilocks.” Mammon read through, his eyes peeled on the page.
“Stop it.” Satan whispered, his voice hushed into a yell. “I don’t want a stupid bedtime story.” Satan tossed and turned into his sheets, moving further away from his older brother in annoyance.
“Ya sure, bud? We had a streak goin’.” Mammon slowly shut the book, respecting the boy’s wishes.
The boy’s response was silence, hoping his uncooperativeness could lead him away from his room. He wanted him to be anywhere but his room, just… Not now at least.
“Alright, is there anythin’ you want me to do?” Mammon voices soothingly, making sure his voice is quiet so nobody yells at them for being up so late.
“I want you to leave me alone.” Satan says calmly, but his voice ends as a warning. He didn’t like to repeat himself during scenarios like this.
“Satan-”
“I said leave.”
The stillness of the room freezes and stirs the second he mutters those words, guilt immediately rubbing on him but his internal grieving makes him yearn to spill his heart out.
“Why?” Mammon asked, not backing off whatsoever. This caused Satan to spiral.
“GET OUT! GET OUT!” Satan screams, the sound bouncing off the walls. He swore a few books shook by just the sound of his voice. Mammon stares at him with apprehension, wondering how his ears weren’t blown off. Still, he remains seated beside his bed, giving him a few seconds to calm down. Satan heaves heavily, borderline hyperventilating. Mammon must’ve felt sick seeing him like this. He shouldn’t have to deal with him. Mammon never asked for Satan to be born. Nobody did.
“What’s the matter?” Not once did Mammon raise his voice at him, not once did he waver and raise a hand at him. He was always so patient with him, he didn’t understand. Why couldn’t he understand? Satan was supposed to know all these things but he felt so stupid, why did Mammon keep trying for him?
“Everything. Everything is wrong. I hate this, I hate it all!! I-It’s so hard to control it, I can’t stop! Why do I always have to ruin everything?!” Satan felt his throat dry up, his vocal cords no longer condoning the screaming. “Why aren’t you sick of me yet?” He frowned, his lips trembling as he looked at the comforters on his lap.
“Satan, it’s not your fault.” Mammon whispered, his voice gentle that had no trace of anger or disappointment in them. He had no expression of annoyance or disgust, the usual looks he saw on everyone’s faces.
“You don’t UNDERSTAND! You NEVER UNDERSTAND!” Satan berates his older brother, but Mammon doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t move an inch nor signals a move. He was seated calmly, watching Satan go off like a landmine.
“You can stop pretending to love me now.” Satan’s eyes shimmer with raw emotion, fighting himself to not let out tears since it was a sign of weakness. “Stop feeling obligated to take care of me. I know you want to get mad at me, that’s the only thing I’m good at. Making people angry!” That’s when it hit. The waterworks danced their pathetic little dance down his face. Satan let them fall, because it hurt more to contain them than trying to stop it. The boy sniffed angrily, angry at the tears falling. Angry at how he lashed out at Mammon.
“Satan, look at me. Please.” Mammon pleaded softly, gently tugging on the loose fabric of Satan’s green sweater, gaining the blond boy’s attention. His blue eyes stared at him apologetically, the pools of blue and yellow drawing him in. Their eyes locked and Satan felt a breath take him away. He felt his own eyes water even more, a huge blob rolling down his cheek as he was suddenly pulled into a secure hug. His face dug into the warm chest of the elder.
“If ya really think I’m mad at ya, ya really don’t know me at all.” Mammon murmured quietly, his arm tucked under Satan’s waist and the other arm wrapped around his back, rubbing it gently in slow motions. Up and down, up and down, repeatedly. Satan’s breathing began to hitch up again, choking on his own sobs as he finally melted into his brother’s arms.
“Breathe with me now, buddy. Will ya? C’mon let’s count together.” Mammon releases the hug slightly, allowing Satan to have room to breathe in between them. A starting count went to one, slowly reaching up to ten. The blond boy counted, the numbers fast in his head had begun to decrease. The pace of his counting became slower by the second. Satan felt light-headed from the hyperventilating and his head hurt from the constant crying while his throat felt raspy and dry. He felt sweat trickle down his face from the heat he produced earlier by his little tantrum.
“Better now?” The white haired man asked, looking down at the younger whose face was all red and warm. He patted the young boy’s back as Satan slowly gave him a reluctant nod, his breathing was finally stabilised and the fuming anger disappeared in a moment. A guilty look appeared on his face, and Satan could barely look his brother in the eye anymore.
“Listen, kid.” Mammon climbs onto his bed, sitting at the edge. “What’s all this ‘bout pretendin’ and nonsense?” A hand reached over to noogie the boy’s blond hair, Satan leaning to the side to dodge it.
“I thought you’d be mad at me.” Satan explained shamefully with his head pointed down, his voice getting quieter by the minute.
“Are ya even listenin’ to yerself? Don’t be ridiculous. And I thought ya were the smartest kid I knew.” Mammon teased and gave him a little chuckle, looking off into the distance of the room filled with books. Satan scowled at him but a small smile peaked at his lips. “Why would I be mad at ya?”
“I-I got mad again. It was my fault I angered Levi and Asmo, I shouldn’t have thrown your crushed peas at him. And I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you either. I’m sorry.” The little boy winced in remorse, clenching onto the blanket under him.
“Pft, ya think I’d get all pissy over that?” Satan’s eyes widened in confusion, raising his head back up to look at him as if he was crazy in the head.
“You aren’t? W-Why aren’t you!?” Satan was always expecting a bad reaction out of everyone, he always questioned why Mammon was so different towards him. He always assumed it was out of pity.
“ ‘Kay, pal. One, Asmo deserved it. Nobody talks to my baby brother like that. And two, it wasn’t yer fault.”
"You really think so?” Satan sniffed, his voice hoarse as he wiped his nose with his sleeve. He felt so gross getting his sweater wet but he had nothing around to use. And he definitely wasn’t going to use Mammon’s arm as a tissue.
“I know so.” Mammon smiles at him, warmth radiating from him. Not the angry, fuming warmth but the warmth of comfort. Satan wanted more of it.
“I know it’s hard to control that anger inside ya, yer not jokin’ around when yer combustin’. It’s not yer fault for feelin’ so angry. Trust me.” Mammon retorts, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m not all good with the whole comfortin’ thing. I wanna say words to ya but I can’t form ‘em properly.”
“That’s okay, I understand.” Satan nods his head silently. Nothing comes to mind about anything either, and no word seems to form. Maybe he’s let out everything already that night.
“Ya can’t help it. Hell, I can’t help my greed either. It’s the worst feelin’, y’know?”
“Yeah.”
“But ya gotta remember, yer wrath doesn’t define ya. It isn’t who you are.” Mammon turns his head towards the blond kid, a soft gaze watching over him. He sees the child as something precious, a treasure to keep. Hearing those words were enough to send Satan over the top which made him realize something. He’s not just the Avatar of Wrath, he’s… Satan. His name is Satan and he’s somebody with feelings too.
“Hey buddy, no need ta cry again. C’mere.” Mammon laughs a little and gently pets his baby brother’s head, surprised that Satan actually leans into his hand this time. A spark of happiness explodes in Mammon when he sees a little bit of a smile under that stoic face of his all the time.
“If ya keep on cryin’, yer gonna get wrinkles! Don’t want ya to be lookin’ like an old man when yer older.”
“Nooo!” Satan whined and immediately rubbed his tears away with his hand, his fingers getting all wet and sticky from the snot and tears.
“Mam…” The blond boy looks up, his head tilted with an innocent look in his green eyes.
“Hm?” Mammon’s attention is all on him now, patiently waiting for a reply.
“Why are you so kind to me? Everyone always pushes me away but… you’re always pulling me in!”
“Are ya kiddin? This is the easiest question yet.” Mammon scoffs proudly, acting like he knew the biggest secret to saving the entire world.
“‘Cause you’re my lil' brother, for god’s sake, kid. And I love ya more than you could ever know.”