#soft asmodeus

To him the answer was simple and yet so deeply complex. How could he not love you?

Forget your stunningly brilliant personality, or the way your kindness changed the spirits of every single person you met.

You asked about your body. Your radiant, glorious body that even now was glowing in the dim candlelight of his room like the ethereal celestial deity that you were to him — regardless of the sweatpants that hid those tantalizing thighs and the stained, oversized shirt that gently caressed the peaks of each of your curves.

He was so distracted by the mere thought of you that words failed him, and in his silence you assumed the worst.

"I know, it's a strange question. And I swear, I promise Asmo, that I'm not fishing for compliments. But you and the boys are all so ... gorgeous! And you all somehow have abs and perfect teeth and perfect jaws to go with your perfect bodies and I just- I'm all rolls and stretch marks and lumps and it's disgusting!" Guilt swelled in his chest as tears glistened in your eyes like fireflies skimming the tops of lakes. "I don't understand why you'd choose me. S-Someone who's ugly a-a-and fat a-and-"

Those toxic words were suffocated under Asmo's pillow-soft kiss as he carefully took your face into his hands.

"None of that, dear." He whispered as his amber eyes searched deeply into your own for some semblance of an explanation for what could've brought this on. "Do not speak about yourself like that."

"But-"

He hushed you immediately with another paralyzing kiss as he gently set you on the edge of his bed. Your words were pulled from your tongue and stolen by his as he leaned away and left you breathless.

He tangled your fingers together and inspected each your hands as he tilted his head. "When I first laid eyes on you, I was instantly intrigued. You were frightened and new and so horribly confused, but you were also devastatingly beautiful."

You cocked an eyebrow as a frown dug at the corners of your lips. "You're just saying that. I'm fat-"

"You say that like that has to be a bad thing." He quickly counters with a peck to your knuckles. . "Yes, you have fat on your body." His expression softens as you wince at his words. "And I am so sorry your society has taught you that's a bad thing. Fat and Beautiful are not antonyms."

"I don't understand" you said, and how it hurt to see that you genuinely meant that.

"Allow me to put it this way," his fingers began to trace up your arm. "Humans have never once been able to agree on what they find, truly beautiful. Even today, in some cultures a full-bodied person is a symbol of a healthy, fortuitous person and is thus found deeply attractive. All throughout history, the image of the perfect body has changed more times than you can count on your lovely hands. So saying one body type is more attractive than the other is frankly ridiculous."

He pressed firm kisses up the length of your arm — as though murmuring his words against your skin could seal them there forever. "Putting all your worth into what a single indecisive society run by humans of all species thinks is a terrible waste of time and horrible for your skin," he couldn't help but smirk as a small laugh escaped your lips. The laughter quickly ceased as he took your chin into his grasp. "But it's clear that poisonous teaching has already gotten to you and that you truly believe what they have taught you. The issue isn't just their words anymore," he leaned forward and pecked the top of your head. "It's what's in here. Though it will take time to completely undo all you've been taught, let tonight be the first step towards proving that you are beautifully wrong about yourself."

And he did exactly that. He spent the next few hours spilling words of poetry about the body that he oh-so-loved to worship.

He painted the rolls and curves of your body as the very hills that compose of the natural wonder that you are. The acne you had, and the scars that remained, were your stars and he would spend the evening turning them into constellations if you would give him the chance.

You said that you're ugly, and the ravine-like marks that snake down ever-so-soft curves were terrible and he genuinely didn't understand how you could say such things about something that looks so fucking delicious. Each line was a teasing path that his tongue begged to trace, and if that was something you would never allow he would simply help you find love for the lightning bolts on your thighs, that you so disdainfully called thunder, through his words.

His thumb stroked the delicate curve of your jaw and neck as he thanked it for being the perfect accent to your gorgeous face and rounded cheeks.

With every word he planted a carefully placed kiss in hopes that a garden of love would grow just as strongly and beautifully as you.

And most importantly, he thanked each and every part of you for composing the timeless masterpiece that was his partner, and he prayed to whoever was listening that he could spend the rest of his days studying your artistry and committing every detail of you to memory.

***This is the closest thing to smut I have ever written, why does Asmo always bring this out? I so sincerely hope you guys enjoyed it and are liking these little snippet fics. Thanks for the love and support! -B***

TAGLIST:

"I'm surprised you were able to come here alone."

"You know how Diavolo gets at the very prospect of nieces and nephews."

"I know. That's why I'm surprised you were able to come here alone."

Asmo was currently swallowed in Lucifer's coat, a cup of tea steaming in his frail fingers as his tiny figure made itself impossibly smaller as he curled up on the couch. He hummed softly in thought, blowing at the dancing steam as it arose from the cup. 

No, he wasn’t entirely frail now. In other ways he was less frail than what he had been. His hips were rounded out, his hugs not as bony and even warmer now than what they had been years ago. He was even softer now, even warmer. He was still energetic and spunky yes, and his eyes still sparkled, but he had softened more and leaned even more into his gentle nature. He also let his hair grow out, and it was now tied in a neat little bun on top of his head. He had caught Solomon playing with it on many an occasion at gatherings. Overall, he had… matured… but it was still Asmo.

Lucifer leaned back in the armchair he was in, taking in Asmo just for a second longer, "Solomon made his instructions quite clear that he wanted you to be in a calm environment. It sounded like he could certainly make use of his own requests as well."

And if Diavolo had come as he oh so desperately wanted to, the house would be anything but calm. He would want to know everything and anything about the new little demon brewing within Asmo's form. Or was the more correct term fallen angels? Partial humans?

"My husband certainly has seemed stressed hasn't he?"

"You going on impromptu outings without notice or times when you will return certainly doesn't help with that."

Oh Asmo was giving that sorcerer a run for his money. It made Lucifer chuckle a bit. From impromptu coffee shop and bakery runs to deciding he wanted to pick up a part time job at the daycare, Asmodeus was throwing Solomon into a panic. He'd become extremely accustomed to anxiety-riddled texts sent in the family group chats, unsure of where Asmo was or when he'd be home or if he was alright.

"He really does get himself worked up, I try not to upset him so much, really it's one of the few things we've ever really gotten into lil tifts about," Asmo sighed, brought the cup up to his lips and paused, "And of course that's why you're here, to make sure I don't get into any unsupervised trouble."

"Unfortunately, I find myself in slight agreement with the man you decided to marry Asmo," Lucifer smirked, "You are carrying his child as they say."

"They being humans?"

"No changing the subject, and he is correct to be concerned. The process affects you and puts you in a targeted position," Lucifer leaned forward ever so slightly, "His concern stems from valid reasons."

Asmo looked back down towards his tea cup, eyes flickering in order to avoid Lucifer's gaze. His fingers tapped along the porcelain glass before he spoke again. 

"I think it all comes from guilt," he didn't look at Lucifer, "He missed Lilith's. There's no way he could have known, I didn't even know, yet he blames himself for missing it… And for her being early." 

"It could be both."

Asmo's fingers tightened around the teacup.

"Which reminds me, I'm surprised you don't have anyone with you either. Lilith usually spends time with both of you and stays with you when Solomon has to go out."

Asmo's body softened and relaxed at the mention of his daughter. It had always been clear that, even if Lucifer had had rocky feelings about the man who sired his niece, she had grown up in a very healthy and loving environment. Both Asmo and Solomon gave her everything they could to get her to thrive. Their efforts paid off in the form of a blossoming young woman. 

"She's busy with being a much better student than I was, she gets that from Solomon you know," Asmo chittered, "And she has friends at RAD. But she's so excited about the baby, she's already planning on weekends that she can come up to visit. It's always a treat to have her stay with us again."

"I could imagine."

After all, it was always a treat to have one of his brothers visit or to see Oleander, so Lucifer could share in that sentiment. 

His eyes were trained on Asmodeus. Watching as he took another slow sip from the cup. His muscles tensed at the ready the second he saw the slightest tremor. The moment he arrived in the house, he became Asmo's shadow. Lucifer opened doors, lifted anything he personally considered too heavy, and always had a place for Asmo to sit. 

Yes there were moments his brother appeared slightly agitated with his protective streak, but a little pampering appeared to take the edge off of his fury.

Asmo hissed and shooed him away the second Lucifer tried to take the knife he'd been using to cut fruit away from him. It was a noise Lucifer had never heard come out of Asmo before, but one he understood nonetheless. However, he was soon back to playing guardian once again to the younger demon.

"Stop."

"I haven't done a thing, Asmodeus."

Asmo rolled his eyes, "I swear, you are just as bad as Solomon."

"You offend me."

Asmo set his cup down and buried himself deeper in Lucifer's coat, "Being compared to your brother-in-law isn't that terrible of a thing now is it? He did help make both of your nieces. Niece and nephew?"

"You don't know?"

"Shush, no changing the subject."

Lucifer chuckled, once again relaxing in his own chair  and motioning with his hand for Asmo to continue.

"Anyways, Solomon makes me happy and he cares for all of us, that's gotta give him some good graces in your book right?" 

Lucifer didn't say a word on the matter. Instead, he took in the image of his brother, so content, so nurturing. While he couldn't fathom why Asmodeus would willingly wish to have another, especially not after his own experiences, he did know that the new little one would be incredibly lucky to have Asmodeus raise him. For a moment he was taken back to his days in the Celestial Realm. Back to days when a very young Asmo would steal a Belphie who was barely starting to open his eyes, hiding in the trees and bushes while Beel cried for his twin and the older angels searched in a frenzy for the two missing little ones. Back to when Asmo would herd all of the tiny baby angels one by one, and how much he adored his little doves. He would teach them so many little songs and play the cutest of games with them. Back to when Asmo fantasized about having a little flock to call his own.

It shouldn't have been a surprise that he would go on and have his own and yet-

Lucifer would not have questioned Asmo in the Celestial Realm. But he had questioned him when he had his first.

But his jewel had overcome Lucifer's fears. He had broken a cycle and even found a partner who had chosen to be just as attentive. 

Sometimes Lucifer wondered if he had ever been able to break the cycle himself, or if he was just another perpetrator in the endless circle. 

"Do you have a name picked out for them?"

Asmo smiled, albeit a bit sheepishly, "Well, yes. I told Solomon to pick one out since I named Lilith."

"And? Did your human manage to come up with anything worthwhile?"

"He did," Asmo's features softened as he pulled Lucifer's coat closer to his face, "Ariel. He seemed particularly fond of the same. He says it so sweetly. Humans are funny, he likes to talk to him, it's adorable really-"

"He talks to him?" Lucifer smirked.

"It's a funny thing humans do. I told him it's not the same but he still speaks to Ariel so fondly."

Lucifer noticed Asmo's eyes dip and quickly took the cup from his hands to set it on the coffee table. Asmo tried to wave him off, but Lucifer still pulled the coat up  closer to Asmo's chin all the same. The process was a draining one, Lucifer still didn't entirely understand why Asmodeus would go through it a second time.

He could never picture himself doing that again.

That ugly concern  rose up within him again. Asmodeus was so drained, so tired, so vulnerable. What if he couldn't protect him? What if there was nothing he could do to truly do to help? What if he could not be there when Asmodeus needed him the most? What if Lucifer failed to protect them again?

"Lucifer-"

"Sleep."

"Mm not-"

"Sleep." 

Despite the pout on his lips, Asmo's eyes grew heavier and heavier.  

Solomon would eventually make it home that evening, he would find Asmo fast asleep and the Avatar of Pride watching over him steadfast and unmoving.

***

It was snowing. It was one of the few things Lucifer remembered. It was a cold December night, the whole Devildom was silent and Lucifer could see his own breath even within the confines of the castle walls. No doubt the human world was just as frozen tonight.  He was pacing back and forth. No real thoughts ran through his mind, only feelings. 

He'd almost missed Solomon's text, almost didn't answer the frantic phone calls masked behind the attempt of a calm tone. A quick quiet promise of a call back and then soft click of the call ending.

Perhaps he should brew another cup of coffee. Maybe it would take his mind off his itching wings and how badly he wanted to be there despite the weather.

"You should try to go back to bed dearest," Diavolo's voice echoed off of the walls. His voice was soft and coaxing, but he was also smart enough to keep some distance between him and Lucifer at a time like this.

"And potentially miss an urgent message that needs my attention? I think not," Lucifer snorted. He fidgeted with his D.D.D., ruby eyes boring into the device as if it would give him answers sooner through his own will power. His wings twitched as he glanced back out the window. How hard would a trip really be? Just so he could be there, just so he could manage everything with his own eyes…

A hand grabbed his own, and Diavolo's eyes met his and he slowly shook his head, "Don't."

"I wasn't planning on anything."

"Don't lie to me dearest, you know I know the truth." 

They stayed in a stalemate. Their disagreements were always like a game of chess, calm and carefully navigated. There was never a trace of aggression, never an ounce of contempt, only carefully crafted words and an understanding of the moves the other side made. Diavolo used his next move to bring Lucifer's hand up to his cheek, letting him relish in the warmth and comfort of the prince. "If you will not come back to bed, at least allow me to attend to your needs."

Lucifer let out a long breath  and laid his head against Diavolo's shoulder.

He couldn't say a word as he allowed himself to be led over to one of the chairs next to the fireplace. Slowly his eyes followed Diavolo around the room as he lit the fireplace, placed a warm blanket on Lucifer's lap, and did his best to prepare tea. His hands fumbled  causing the stream to lurch as it traveled downwards towards the cup. He was nowhere near as talented as Barbatos, and his movements were clumsy, but none of that mattered. Even now, with his nervous laughter and concerned puppy dog eyes, Lucifer felt his chest flutter.

As he picked up the cup, Diavolo moved behind him. A trill left his lips as strong hands kneaded into his shoulders and along where his wings connected with his back. 

"You should let me tend to you more often."

"As if you don't do it daily?"

Diavolo chuckled and pressed a kiss against the back of his neck. "Asmodeus will be fine, you know as well as I do that Solomon wouldn't let anything happen to him."

Lucifer's eyes softened and he found himself staring deep into flames before him. He wished he could find solace in his husband's words, and yet the darkness continued to consume him. 

***

It wasn't until the early hours that Lucifer finally heard back. The storm was still unrelenting and bit the bones of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way of it's wrath. The sound of his D.D.D. buzzing filled him with the most terrible sense of dread. For a moment, he was frozen, he couldn’t bring himself to look at the notification. Diavolo nudged it towards him on the little table. Their eyes met, and Diavolo offered him a smile and a soft nod. 

There were no words in the text, only a single image. 

Relief flooded his being. Asmo sat, exhausted but otherwise unharmed. In his arms a bundle sat wrapped on the brink of consciousness. He had a messy mop of black hair, the tiniest hint of wings peaking out, and his eyes were ones that Lucifer couldn’t help but recognize fondly. They were the color of sunsets and warm summer days. 

“He looks like Solomon.”

Lucifer hummed, “He has Asmo’s eyes… and his nose… and dimples.”

Diavolo let out a short laugh and scooted closer, the eagerness radiating off of him was palpable. He looked nothing short of hopeful. There was only one way to handle this, the correct and proper way. After all, Asmodeus had just had his second child-

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“No we are not going to bother them-”

“It wouldn’t be-”

“Asmodeus just had a child mere minutes ago and you want to barge in there and pester them both with seeing the baby? Their newborn?”

Diavolo pouted. Some things never really changed, now did they? Letting out a low chuckle, he pulled his husband closer. He ran his fingers through red locks that had darkened with age, and yet both of them were still very much the same… and also very much not. “Let them rest for a while and settle with the new one, besides weren’t you the one who was worried about me traveling in this weather? We shall visit in a few days and then you can spoil your new nephew all you want.”

Diavolo scrunched his face as Lucifer poked his nose, “Can you at least ask them for his name?”

Lucifer could feel his wings flutter, he leaned into Diavolo as he looked back down at the photo. Asmodeus hadn’t done too bad, and his human had managed to pick out a fitting name for his new nephew.

“His name is Ariel.”

"Ariel," Diavolo repeated softly, "What a human sounding name. It's wonderful."

The image before him looked so soft and warm, both of them were protected from the harsh cold of the outside, and Solomon stayed close by making sure to keep contact with Asmodeus. They were safe. They were safe, and that was what mattered. Asmodeus had someone else watching over him and that made Lucifer’s mid ease ever so slightly. They were safe, and now Asmo’s little family grew once more, and in a way Asmo continued to grow with it. 

Maybe, just maybe, Lucifer had changed as well.