#asmobriel

There was always three people in their relationship.

It all circles back to Lucifer. That Asmodeus was never a big enough man to earn any sort of respect from him. You’d think that you’d give up after a while, especially seeing as how for the vast majority of Asmodeus’s life and death Lucifer was in a box in the ground… he doesn’t though, Lucifer is just gone, and that desire to have pleased him has no where to go and nothing to do but rot and fester, warp into something deep seated and ugly.

An archangel lands in his lap, figuratively, the literally would come later.

He’s scared of Gabriel, especially so to begin with, but at least a little of him is always frightened. That’s what makes it so fun. Gabriel is an archangel, and Gabriel had been Lucifer’s in a way Asmodeus had never and would never be. Something doted on and adored, trusted and loved. Even after his betrayal, Gabriel would always still be family to Lucifer. Lucifer tried to kill him, but that had nothing to do with hate. That’s something Asmodeus would never get, didn’t deserve to have. Gabriel was the looming threat in his basement, the boogeyman under his bed, the thing that could crawl out and use those god-fuelled hands to do terrible terrible things to him. Asmodeus is OLD. He knows archangels. An archangel left that ugly scar down the center of his face. He’s signed a death warrant doing this. But Gabriel was Lucifer’s, and in this twisted way, he’s got Lucifer with him always.

Asmodeus hates Lucifer. Hates him because he loves him. It’s complicated. He was chosen above all others, given power, a title, a throne. He was plucked from the Earth, small and mortal and innocent, and ripped apart at the seams to be a pawn in Lucifer’s game against God. Lucifer had given him a gift he gave only three others, a little piece of himself that marked Asmodeus as better than anyone else, because he held divinity in his veins too now. That little piece of Lucifer’s love and trust. The little bit of Lucifer that marked him as property to be used and disposed of at will. That little bit of Lucifer that made them family, that made Lucifer Father and God and the Devil all in one. You live like that for fifty thousand years and it does things to your head, irreparably. Twists love and hate into the same thing.

Asmodeus hurts Gabriel, because in hurting him he knows it would hurt Lucifer. It was only a matter of time before that confusing swirl of emotion, that hate and that love and that desire, lead him shoving the angel face down into the cold ground to fuck him while Gabriel thrashed and cried. That time it was little more than an act of domination, because he could, because it was one more thing he could do that would rattle Gabriel. Gabriel would be rattled, but he’d still come out of it mouthy and angry as he’d always been. It would take far more than that to shatter something like him.

The next time he fucks him, he makes it good. You think someone gets to be prince of lust and not know how to make it good? He makes it too good, so drawn out it leaves Gabriel panting for release so long he forgot that hours ago he’d been screaming and writhing and relentlessly trying to buck him off. He makes Gabriel beg for it, beg for it to end not because he’s in pain or scared, but because he wants that sweet release. Asmodeus doesn’t give him what he wants until he’s satisfied that he’s pleased that little bit of Lucifer that lives inside of Gabriel, until he watches the bliss of pleasure with no other thought clouding his father’s thoughts. There’s only him. Its even better getting to watch that foggy cloud of sex haze fade from Gabriel’s eyes and watch the slow dawning horror of him coming to terms with the humiliation of what he’d just submitted to, and in that way, Asmodeus gets to watch that little bit of Lucifer inside Gabriel realise he had been subjugated in a way that was impossible to take back.

The next time, Asmodeus make it hurt. It happens suddenly, unpredictably, vicious and fast. It’s over so quickly it leaves Gabriel silent and shaking from the fear and the pain, still confused about what he did or said that set the demon off. The thing is, is that nothing set him off. Nothing made Admodeus want to do it. He just could. He could hurt Lucifer. Wanted to hurt Lucifer for all the things he had done to him, and it was becoming easy. God flinched at his touch. He didn’t even fight back that much anymore, didn’t have the strength to do so.

Lucifer was like a father to him, Gabriel like an extremely distant uncle he supposed. When the lines blur, Gabriel is his father and fit for punishing, Gabriel is his creator— his god— and should be revered and pleasured. Or maybe it’s the other way around, or maybe it doesn’t really matter at all.

There’s a little bit of Lucifer in Asmodeus, the bit that allows him to consume Gabriel’s grace and not burn from the inside out and erupt into a ball of flame. Lucifer had split his wrist and bled it into his mouth when he was a mortal boy, back when he was still stupid and naive enough to think he didn’t want Lucifer to dominate him, he had tried to fight Lucifer off of him while he screamed and cried because it burned, had tried to buck him off like Gabriel does now while Asmodeus holds him down. Gabriel can sense it sometimes when his grace has bloomed back enough, before Asmodeus thieves it from him again. He can feel the comfort of being near family lurking somewhere beneath the demon’s skin.

Asmodeus let’s him feel it sometimes when they fuck, relishes in the way Gabriel’s face and body soften instinctively, the way he holds tighter to his body like he could pull Lucifer to him and be saved.

The next time, while Asmodeus has Gabriel pinned to the ground, arms held above his head in a dim room so all he can see at all is the demon’s face, when he’s dragging that thick cock in and out of his tight and swollen little hole so gently that Gabriel might just drift off again into the bliss of it, he makes Gabriel call him Lucifer. Oh how Gabriel fought then… twisted and screamed, kicked his legs up at him to try and force Asmodeus off. No he wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t sully his relationship to his brother like that, he wouldn’t let go of the one little comfort he could glean from this torture. No he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Asmodeus broke Gabriel hard over the next months, kept him so dry of grace, beaten and bloody. His wounds festered and went septic, still Asmodeus wouldn’t let him grow enough grace to heal. He always let him heal, because it gave him a fresh canvas to play with, but not this time. His fractures would start to heal wrong, and Asmodeus would shatter him again, and they’d heal worse. He became warped, his limbs protruded at skin, lumpy and mangled. He’d never known any agony like this, it’s like Asmodeus had been saving up all his worst methods for this moment right here. Months and months… to a whole year.

Asmodeus took him to bed that next year, and force fed Gabriel his grace and all Gabriel could feel was relief when he thrust into him. The warmth, the warmth of his body and the warmth of grace, the serenity of it, the holiness, and Lucifer. He wasn’t in his right mind, he hadn’t meant it the way Asmodeus interpreted it, but he’d moaned it all the same and that’s all that had mattered. He’d cried in the relief of his body becoming whole, what felt like safety, what had felt like his brother. With his back pressed to the warm softness of a real bed that rocked with the thrusting into him, Gabriel in tears, moans Lucifer’s name.

It’s the unraveling moment of them both. The moment that what little sanity they both clung to was lost. Gabriel was gone, a shadow of himself with nothing left to cling to, no comfort down here to be found and no hope left that he would ever go home, because he was far too dirty now for Heaven’s light. Lucifer wouldn’t save him, not for what he had done. Michael and Raphael definitely wouldn’t, oh they’d be so disgusted with him, they’d have to leave him right here where he belonged. Asmodeus too was lost, to his own delusions of grandeur. The line blurred too far, then stopped existing at all to them. It’s madness, plain and simple.

Asmodeus was full of grace, so he was Lucifer, he was Gabriel’s brother. Though still, sometimes Gabriel was Lucifer, sometimes Gabriel was even God. Gabriel was his father, his uncle, his god, his brother, his pet, and his love. All of them true simultaneously, to them at least.

Gabriel surrenders to it, because it’s the only comfort he gets here and making Asmodeus happy is better than making him angry. He holds him tight while Asmodeus sinks his teeth into his flesh and suckles the grace from his blood, closes his eyes and calls him Lucifer, and asks him so nicely to fuck him harder. It only further fuels the demon’s delusions. Asmodeus in his insanity further mimics his brother, until sometimes Gabriel wholeheartedly finds himself confused and more willing to spread his legs because he wants Lucifer to come fuck him, come make it all feel better. It’s not like either of them are ever leaving this cesspool of pain and misery. Gabriel doesn’t dream of leaving anymore, because it’s impossible, so all he dreams is Lucifer.

Asmodeus makes a point of feeding Gabriel back his grace to conflate the feeling of Heaven with the burn of his cock shoving into him raw and unprepared. He wears white while he does it, because Lucifer did it, and it helps with Gabriel’s reeducation. He makes a mockery of the purity of the color while he defiles an angel, just as Lucifer wore it as he made a mockery of God. But is it really defiling when he’s holy now too?

Gabriel is so special. His perfect little brother. The father that finally sees him and wants him and kneels at his feet and sucks his cock with a trained lax throat perfect for fucking, only now that Asmodeus has finally proved himself as something worthy and terrifying. So good, so well behaved. He can’t bear the thought of losing his angel. His skin itches at the thought that Gabriel would leave. So he makes sure to hurt him so bad he’d always be too terrified to try, but he always fucks him so nice now. To make Lucifer proud, to make his daddy come on his cock so hard he sees stars.

He just loves him so much. That was all he wanted. He just wanted Lucifer to love him like he loved his other brothers.