Lilith's death is hard on everyone. her absence is like an amputated limb; even after the pain of loss is no longer ever-present, there is an empty space where she once was. shadows fall where there should be light.

but the brothers have their memories of her.

all except Satan.

Satan was born of Lucifer's wrath. that wrath was born of a sense of injustice. it was born of grief--for Lilith and all the other angels who were lost to the war.

it is not only Lucifer's wrath that exists inside of Satan. it is Lucifer's grief as well.

the others can find comfort in their shared memories of Lilith. Beel can make her favorite foods. Belphie can look up at her favorite constellations, still unchanged after all these years. Lucifer spends hours in the replica of her room from the Celestial Realm.

but Satan has no memories of Lilith. he has only the grief that gnaws at him, just as intense as that of his brothers but with its source undefined.

he is mourning a person he has never known.

it is overwhelming at times. his throat tightens when Mammon mentions that Lilith used to sing the song humming from the radio. his chest aches when Levi points out that Lilith would love the game he's been playing.

Satan's grief angers Belphie.

"why do YOU look sad!?" Belphie yells once. the tears in his eyes mirror those in Satan's. "you didn't even KNOW her!"

Satan can't argue. can't offer an explanation. he doesn't have one.

Satan leaves instead. he has to. he feels the rage in his veins threatening to bubble up, anger boiling his blood. his face feels hot. his fists feel cold. how dare Belphie talk to him like that? how dare he act as if Satan WANTS to miss someone he has never even met?

Satan stalks off. finds a place outside in the courtyard where he can transform and wreak all the havoc he wants on the trees. his tail whips out and splits the bark, slashes a wound into the wood that mirrors the one he was born with in his heart.

he never asked for this.

Satan rages until the fire subsides--no. not subsides. it is never truly gone. it is ALWAYS there. but he is able to release enough energy to lessen the flame so it no longer burns. he collapses without it to fuel him, his back scraping against rough bark as he sits, exhausted.

he curls in on himself. his tail wraps around his legs, digs sharp spines into his skin to ground him. he focuses on its sting. better that than this phantom pain for a limb he has never had.

he doesn't hear the soft footsteps approaching.

he doesn't hear the quiet, concerned voice call his name.

but he feels the hand that touches his shoulder.

Satan jumps. his tail lashes out, narrowly missing the outstretched arm of his companion. worried amber eyes blink back at him, and Satan recognizes them.

Asmo.

"what do you want?" Satan snaps. he is still young. still uncertain of his place in the world. he has learned how to keep his wrath from consuming him entirely. he has not yet learned how to hold his tongue--or how to trust these "brothers" of his.

Asmo doesn't seem surprised by Satan's suspicion. nor does he seem scared of him, despite having witnessed to Satan's previous explosions of wrath. he simply plops himself down next to Satan and leans in against him, so close that their heads are nearly touching.

"I wanted to show you something," Asmo says. his knee bumps against Satan's thigh as he crosses his legs. everything in Satan recoils at the contact.

(well, almost everything. part of him--small but still there--finds that this gentle touch grounds him better than pain.)

Asmo pulls out a book, large and thick. he settles it in his lap and starts to flip through it.

it contains photographs.

the photographs contain memories.

Satan barely recognizes the people in the photos. he knows they must be his brothers, but... they look so different. so happy. their wings are white. halos gold.

standing among them is a woman he truly DOESN'T recognize. but he knows who she is by his rush of sadness.

Lilith.

Satan reaches out to touch the face of the sister he has never known--

--and all at once, he is standing in the kitchen with Beel and Lilith.

he smells the warm cinnamon and cloves of the cookies. he hears their laughter. hears her VOICE.

he SEES Lilith.

when he returns to himself, Satan is breathless. stunned, he looks at Asmo, who smiles back.

"magic," Asmo explains with a wiggle of his fingers. "touch the photos, and you can see the memories. this way you can know Lilith too." he beams. "no need to thank me."

Satan doesn't thank him. but he does lean in, ever so slightly, against Asmo. he accepts, for once, the companionship Asmo offers. the touch.

Asmo only laughs. "you're welcome," he says, and Satan nods, swallowing down the lump in his throat before touching another photo.

he makes his way through the book slowly. he sees Lucifer hug Lilith with a smile he could never imagine his creator wearing now. he watches Mammon steal her necklace and laugh as she tries to snatch it back.

Satan lives the experiences, one by one. until he can match the pain at his sister's absence to the happiness of knowing her while she lived.

until he, too, has memories of Lilith.

[this is based off a throwaway line in an old event in which Satan had a photo album that let you experience the actual memories of the photos. this is my explanation for why he talks about Lilith like he knew her sometimes]

[also if it's not clear, Satan probably feels vaguely OOC bc he's not all "conceal don't feel" yet, bc he's still really young and hasn't learned to cope with his wrath]