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Satan doesn't really know how they got to this point. One minute he's agreed to help Asmodeus study for their upcoming test that they were “so scared” to fail and face Lucifer’s wrath, and the next, he’s become her new test subject. He felt flattered being asked to tutor, but he expected more tutoring and less of this. Halfway through the session Asmo insisted he keep talking while they touched up the polish on his nails, but halfway through that she insisted that acrylics would look amazing on his long and slender fingers. He kept going over the material despite cringing at the feeling of the file against his nails, and he hoped that none of this was in vain, and she was actually grasping the material.
When the makeup bag comes out, Satan starts to worry. “Hey, are you even listening?!” he huffs, flinching when Asmodeus reaches out to clip his bangs out of his face.
“Hm? Oh! Yes, The Great Celestial war. I lived through that, but thanks for the brush up,” she hummed, dabbing at his face with her beauty sponge. “But feel free to keep going! Oh, hurry up and get to who killed Gabriel, I just love hearing about my accomplishments.”
“I knew that you already knew this! Here I was being nice and giving you the benefit of the doubt and trying to—” he was cut off by Asmodeus gently shutting his eyes, giggling a bit.
“Oh kitty, just relax and close your eyes. Tell me about that book series you just finished,” he heard the large textbook being closed and moved to the side, then felt a fluffy brush gently apply eyeshadow to his eyelids. Satan wanted to be annoyed, he knew Asmodeus had adhd but this was a little much even for them, but he really did want to discuss the book with someone.
“So it takes place in a vineyard in the human world…” And honestly he doesn't really know how long he's babbled on and on, only being occasionally interrupted by Asmodeus gently holding his shoulders or hands to keep him from rocking so much and ruining the makeup. She was actually decent at asking questions to keep him engaged in the conversation, so he could forgive the lack of studying.
“Okay! I think I’m done with the makeup. Oh, you look so pretty like this!” she squealed, clapping her hands together. Satan opened his eyes and moved to look in the mirror before Asmodeus grabbed her. “No, you can’t see yourself until it’s all done. I want a full, honest review on this look, alright?”
At this point Satan was a mixture of amused and annoyed, so he just wordlessly nodded. He was this far in already, might as well see it through.
“Okay! Stand up and put this on!” A sleeveless emerald green dress was pressed into his hands, it was smooth and satin. Clearly she had designed this with Satan in mind, it was one of the few textures he could handle with his sensory issues. However it was very revealing, all of his shoulders would be exposed.
Satan simply balked at the other demon. “I can’t wear this.”
“Why not? I made it to your size, and please I really need to submit this design to the designers! I waited too long and it’s the last day, you have the perfect body for this,” she begged. “Please! I’ll owe you like a thousand favors, I'll even read Soldier Cats or whatever that cat series you love is.”
Satan sighed, flushing slightly as he took his shirt and pants off. “First off, it’s Warrior Cats. Second of all, you really do owe me big time.”
And with that he stepped his legs into the dress and turned around for Asmodeus to zip up the dress, but as soon as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror his brain stopped.
His shoulders were on display as he expected, but the dress hugged his body in all the right places. The golden nails accentuated the dress perfectly, along with the smoky eye look Asmodeus had given him. His head was spinning so hard, he couldn't tear his eyes away from himself. He honestly expected to hate it but somehow he felt… Beautiful?
“..tan? Sa..?” He could vaguely register Asmodeus snapping their fingers in front of their face. “Satan, are you okay? You haven't said a thing.”
Was he okay? Was it okay to feel like everything in his life suddenly felt complete. That clothes never made him feel great so he usually stuck to baggy and oversized sweaters, but this is what finally made him feel euphoric. Euphoric… that was the word Asmodeus used thousands of years ago when she had broken down at the dinner table, expressing how she had tried on a skirt for the first time and it made her feel gender euphoria . How could he be okay when looking like a woman finally did that for him. Him? No that felt wrong, and Satan felt sick to their stomach suddenly. They bunched the dress up with their fists and whipped around, pushing past Asmodeus and running into their room. They slammed the door shut and immediately slid down, ignoring how Asmodeus banged their fists on the door.
“Okay, I get it! You didn't like it, but I really need it back so someone can model the dress. This is really important to me!” Satan pulled their knees to their chest and wrapped their arms around them. “Whatever! You’re such a jerk!” Somehow the silence was even more uncomfortable. Being alone with their thoughts only made them feel worse, what was even wrong? Men can wear dresses and like it, they’ve seen Mammon model in dresses before, and Leviathan is always making their own cosplays. That doesn't automatically make them a woman.
All these confusing thoughts swarming Satan’s head just made them angrier. They grabbed the closest book that was laying on the floor beside them and hurled it at one of the many tall, daunting stacks of books that littered the danger zone they called their room. The loud crash and sounds of destruction always made them feel better. Satan got to her feet and swiftly kicked more of the books laying on the floor, then smashed her hand into the bookshelf, causing more to tumble to the floor. She cried out in pain, despite being the Avatar of Wrath she has never dealt with pain very well. This didn't stop her from slamming her fists into the wall some more. She didn't know how long she had even been caught up in her destructive rage until she felt her hands being restrained, quickly turning to growl and claw at whoever dared to interrupt her at this moment.
Lucifer. Of course it was him, he always had to come and ruin her only way of coping with her feelings. Even when Satan was a child he always resorted to restraining them until they ran out of steam. Satan attempted to kick and wrestle their way out of her fathers hold, but it was pointless. “Please, let me go! You don't even care!”
“No, I do care about the state of my house. I refuse to let you destroy any more of the house simply because you are upset Satan.” Lucifer tightened his grip, not even flinching at the small whines of pain coming out of his son’s mouth. “You’re acting like a child, as always.”
As usual it didn't matter what was even wrong, all he cared about was keeping everyone acting exactly like he wanted them to.
Satan couldn't handle all of this, her head hurt from the amount of screaming and crying she’d done, she stopped fighting back and went slack in Lucifer’s arms. “Please just leave me alone! I’ll stop, I really just want to be left alone!” She couldn't help the hot tears that ran down her face as she pleaded, it was almost shameful to cry in front of Lucifer. Her stomach twisted when she noticed the way Lucifer’s face softened, the last thing she wanted was pity.
Without letting Satan out of his hold, just in case this was an elaborate way to get one over on him, Lucifer spoke. “What’s wrong?” His genuine concern for her actually made Satan let out another sob, it truly seemed like self control was out the window now.
“Asmo put me in a dress and did my makeup and it felt weird! I want to be angry and hate it, and I am angry! But not at the dress. I’m angry because I’m confused, why does it feel good? Why do I like it so much? Why have I been referring to myself as a girl this entire time?!” She felt herself being pulled into a tight hug by her father, something she rarely ever experienced, and finally allowed herself to freely sob. Lucifer gently rubbed her back, encouraging her to let out all her feelings. Once she was done he pulled back and took in the sight of his child. It hurt his entire being to see Satan like this; makeup ran down their face and as they desperately tried to wipe it off he noticed how bruised and bloody Satan’s knuckles were.
Lucifer sighed, reaching out again to gently take Satan’s arm and move them out of the room and into the hall bathroom.
“What are we doing?” she asked, still trying to wipe at her face pathetically.
“We need to clean off your hands, they’ll get infected if we don't. You can't punch anything if we have to cut off your fingers,” Lucifer said dryly
“Was that supposed to be a joke? Ah! Shit . That stings!” she hissed as Lucifer pressed a cotton ball with alcohol on it to the deep cuts. She watched as her father carefully cleaned and then wrapped both of her fists in bandages. It was the nicest thing he had done for her in over a century. “Why did you do that?” She stared at him, watching him for any sign of lying.
“Can I not do something nice when my son is suffering?” The use of the word son made Satan flinch, though not for the usual reasons. “Ah, yes. That doesn't sound right does it? I think ‘my daughter’ sounds a whole lot better, don't you think?”
His daughter. His daughter . That sounded so right, she nodded her head. “Yes, I think I could accept it if you referred to me as that. However this changes nothing.”
“Of course not, I wouldn't expect this to. It is who you’ve always been, right?”
Satan stood and used her hands to smooth down the dress. “I suppose you’re correct, for once, now if you will excuse me there’s someone I need to talk to.” She spared her father one last glance before making her way to Asmodeus’s room, carefully opening the door to find them hunched over their design sketchbook.
“Do you still need someone to model..?” she asked carefully, chuckling at how Asmodeus nearly fell off the bed at the sight of her.
“Oh honey you look terrible! What the devil did you do to the makeup I spent oh so long on?!” she lamented. “Nevermind, I’ll need your full cooperation if I’m getting you fixed in time for my photoshoot!” She pulled her vanity chair over and shoved Satan into it, wasting no time in fixing it.
Even after the shoot Satan couldn't focus on anything other than her reflection in the mirror, despite Asmodeus attempting to talk her ear off.
After a while Asmodeus huffed and snapped her fingers in front of them. “Hello? Hell to Satan? You're ignoring me after I sat and listened to you talk about that detective novel for an hour at least .”
“Hm? Oh, sorry. I just can’t get over how beautiful I look,” Satan admitted a bit dreamily.
The sudden confession took Asmodeus off guard, and they tilted their head in confusion. “Satan, are you really alright?”
She nods. “I really expected to hate it, but I think the word for how I really feel is euphoria? Is that right, I’m… new to all these feelings.”
Suddenly the entire evening made sense to Asmodeus. The way Satan had run out after looking in the mirror. How she had been heard kicking, screaming, and numerous thuds around her entire room. It was similar to how Satan had dealt with feeling scary new emotions when she was younger. It was the only way she knew how to. “Oh Satan, I see. Yes, I agree you do look very beautiful. Would you like me to teach you how to do that makeup look on your own?”
“Yeah, I’d really like that.”