ALL CORRUPT EVERYTHING [ body change ]

[Luciferr]

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L U C I F E R . G R I M M

"The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart"

[ a lil ahead of his current arc so hes stable (post-return when i get on that) / also oof this gave me muse an sorta became an MDC prompt ]

for so long lucifer was only aware that the void was his father entire.

maybe not the void one thinks of - but the void tahat encompasses all dimensions, that runs the black moat around the castles of each in the minds eye - a deep sea of nothing where light cannot reach and yet it's somehow bent into place as a place by father's whim alone.

more so for him t have platforms to perform his designs as void - as nothing

the only solace Lucifer has of his father is the knowing that he cannot breach the various realities - mother made sure of that.

it's a small comfort - for its been proven, the thing that is dear old dad can still seek him out.

Lucifer is afraid of very very few things.

but he fears his father.

he fears the inevitable and what it means for everyone and everything.

he'll die again to see them all safe, as he has done many times before.

Lucifer has always been a martyr.

so to think the nothing might spawn another that calls it home or father, or creator or whatever it chooses like it had his father, like it had him and his brother - well, he's prepared for another like dear old dad.

though he hopes perhaps they are more like him or his twin.

Lucifer is a dragon - and yet, he is not.

Lucifer is a thousand and one eyes, open or blind - he is dark and void, woven from chaos and nothing, inheritor of the shattered fragments of light - this is weaved against bones of red anathema to existence, shadows that warp and form and shift to whatever he deems them - threaded through with the silver-white edge of a stark distant sunrise so bright it sears and tears the eye to behold.

he is countless wings, feathered, webbed, mist, ash, shadow, light and void - a conglomeration that is an aberration to existence, for never should the twain meet of something and nothing - yet here he is.

he is ancient, he has existed from the start - an existence given form from two impossibilities like the rest of their line - an ancient shadow and he will exist far past when everything dies and falls to nothingness once more, cursed to never rest.

he walks among mortals as much as it hurts him - these brilliant finite lives, they enhance his own, they stop him from becoming as his father is - they who have gifted him a hundred names and a hundred words to describe he and his kind - god they call him, destroyer says others - always Pariah though, the odd one out in the family line up, marked by the lurid otherness of the scar across half his face.

a scar that was agitated recently perhaps - given the few added fissures of distinct red that litter the right side of his neck, like thin cracks in fine china.

but he is okay - they brought him back to himself.

he's fine truly.

his daughter was slaughtered - she's safe, her soul is in her other form, shes SAFE - his little brother is dead - he can see the bodies of his young sisters superimposed next to Luca's still form, no, he thinks, not again.

he will carry on, as ever.

this runs around the shadows mind - the shadow that has folded itself countless times until it fit itself in this form, curled in n itself and presented sharp spines and a carapace black as the dark seas above this world, layers of plating and wings that feather nears the ends in razor sharp cuts of white light in the multiples that rest across his back - a contradiction perhaps, but he gained them from the brother that is no more, he cannot resent his feathers so in contrast to his sharp edges.

so when the shadow meets another so strange, one that shifts on a whim where he pretends to hold to some consistency for the sake of his mortals - they are his, he claims them as an extended family in his own strange way, so perhaps the dragons mirror their creator line's children in some way, though lucifer's hoard has long been those he covets - he barely blinks - he sees past that veil as no doubt the other does with him.

so lucifer inclines his head to a being as tired and other as he - like can see like in their ways - and speaks

"I don't believe we've met, Luciferus grimm - most call me Lucifer" and if theirs a brief growl of otherness to the voice - like an echo of a name that isn't so easily pronounceable when he speaks with the mortal tongue calls him, well then theirs not many that could hear it save perhaps these two.

[ permission if u wanna go wild with how h perceives luci on another plane  or whatever feel free, i woulda with mine but idk if you would allow that? plus u described him beautifully already oof ]

tags — [color=maroon]large dragon — hellion [5ft] — typhoon / officer — extreme

© LEXASPERATED