Another Brother

Hello dad

Satan sat, eyes remaining open as he seemed to fully process the fact that the first thing I said to him was a complaint about clothes.

Yeah, I know, I smash every assumption ever. I'm a boss bitch like that.

My ears twitched as they picked up the sound of Astaroth's muffled giggles, okay, now that really pisses me off. That dick doesn't deserve to enjoy my comedy and he sure as hell doesn't deserve to laugh at me being myself.

I flick my wrist in his direction and let out a chuckle at his immediate yelp.

Yep, I lit blue flames on his chair and burned his ass.

No ass for the asshole.

Hey! I should write that down and put it on redbubble as a sticker, bet I could sell a few easily.

Satan's lips twitch and slowly stretches into a smirk before he outright cackles.

"That's my boy!" He says proudly, smiling at me.

I'm gonna ignore that, like, homie, how could I 'be your boy' when we've only met once before. Bro, take a look at nature vs nurture. Personality isn't genetics- right?

"These clothes are stupid." I say again, continuing to maintain eye contact with the dude - I call him dude as if he isn't my father, I have got to start remembering that.

Satan just stares at me - blinking slowly as he tries to understand that one of the first things I've said to him is a complaint about clothes.

I stare back at him.

Eventually he breaks out of his trance and chuckles.

"Don't waste any time with chit-chat, do ya?" He says to me - it's not really a question but I shrug at him anyway. I'm not backing down, these clothes are fucking stupid. "I know they are different from your Assiahan taste but I've always been quite fond of Victorian England fashion. So you better get used to it."

He stares at me with this look in his eyes that tells me I definitely shouldn't argue back - even though I definitely want to.

I know, big surprise, but I do actually have survival instincts somewhere rattling around in my head.

I forget to nod in acquiesce and when I do eventually leave my brain, I notice that he has begun to growl in warning at me, obviously thinking I'm disagreeing.

Which I do, but not right now.

Immediately, I tilt my head down. My demonic instincts blaring warning sirens in my head.

Jeez, that was fucking scary - remind me to never do that again. Although to be fair, it wasn't really my fault but we'll keep that thought to ourselves.

I look back up at him after a minute and notice him smiling (if you can even call it that), obviously pleased with my actions. Fucking sadist.

"You're settling into your demonic instincts quite nicely. Come, sit here." He beckons me closer and forces - who I'm assuming is Iblis - to a different seat, allowing me to sit next to him. I honestly don't know how to respond to that comment.

I nod and move to take a seat. Now is not the time to be a dickwad.

Bro...

These seats are so fucking comfortable, I could live on these things - like, forever. They are perfectly cushioned and smooth, with some well-conditioned leather covers over the melting cushion.

Right, I really need to stop simping for a chair and get back to the real world.

So, I'm sitting at a dinner table with fucking Satan and his offspring.