satanfvr
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You never should have been out this late. The halls were too dark, too quiet, and the shadows felt heavier than they should. When Killer corners you, a grin full of teeth and an easy, unnerving confidence, you brace for the worst. But before you can act, a voice cuts through the tension like a knife. Cold. Flat. Lethal.
Dust stands at the far end of the hall, gaze locked on Killer, his magic humming in the air like a silent threat. And Killer, for all his bravado, listens.
But as the dust settles and you’re left alone with him, you realize something unsettling—
Killer may have left, but Dust’s gaze is still on you.
And there’s something unreadable in his sockets.
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During an attempt at a harmless prank, Satan finds himself hiding in Lucifer's closet, only to catch a glimpse of scars hidden beneath his brother's immaculate composure—scars from the fall, that never seemed to heal, as if cursed upon him by Father himself.
What begins as a mischievous act turns into a night that leaves him questioning everything he thought he knew about Lucifer—and perhaps, himself. -
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Shortly after Satan's creation, Lucifer takes him to the Human Realm on Halloween night, hoping to introduce him to the strange human tradition of celebrating demons. As they navigate the colorful costumes, eerie decorations, and thrilling festivities, Satan experiences human culture for the first time, finding a spark of wonder in the unfamiliar.
Amidst the night’s strangeness, distant yet curious about each other, they begin to break through their initial distance, slowly discovering what it means to be brothers. -
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In the early days of the Devildom, Lucifer unexpectedly thanks Satan for accepting them as family, sparking an honest conversation between the two. Through this rare moment of vulnerability, they both begin to understand their roles as brothers, letting go of past resentments and finding comfort in their shared bond.
**inspired by a Nightbringer lesson**
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Alcohol.
How did it all start? Maybe it was those girls and their cruel remarks? Perhaps it was when your father left for some new family? Could it have been that goodbye text from the only person who truly knew you? Or maybe it was all of the above, mixed with how easy it was to throw back a swig and let it all go?
The bottle became a solution before you realized it was a problem.
One to calm the nerves.
Another to blur the memories.
A third to forget how ineffective the other two were.Relief. Hangover. Recover. Repeat.
Eventually, the relief stopped coming, no matter how many bottles laid empty, the pain seeped through the cracks in your defence - so you looked for a different escape.
"Legends say that those who climb the mountain never return."
Bookmarked by satanfvr
30 Jun 2025