#ryuciferboard

The air bore traces of iron and sulfur when they wed.

Beneath a starless sky, she emerged barefoot and walked to him in a dress unlike anything worn by the brides of the Devildom—bone white where it clung to her, red-black where it frayed like rot.

Lucifer discarded his human form the moment her silhouette crossed the threshold. Obsidian horns arched gracefully from his crown; four terrible, beautiful wings slowly unfurled behind him.

Lesser demons, nobles, and grotesque beasts in borrowed flesh remained masked in Venetian golds. Some wore faces they had stolen. Others had no faces at all. They orient themselves, but they did not speak. They did not blink. For all its fangs and fury, even the great Cerberus sat quietly at his heel, each head bowed in unsettling obedience.

It was silent, save for the soft patter of her steps on cobbled stone.

When she finally reached him, Lucifer said nothing.

Instead, he bled for her. He extended his hand, slid a clawed fingertip over her bottom lip, and gently tilted her chin up. Her eyes, once wholly human, now reflected the glow of the pact mark they had forged long before this night.

She opened her mouth without instruction, and a single bead of crimson fell onto her tongue.

At last, the Morningstar spoke.

“I give you my name, my heart.

With blood and breath, I bind myself to you for every century to come.

Let them find me at your feet, still eternally and irreversibly yours.”

divider: @/diviniyae