The Devil's Beloved: An 18+ MM Romance (part four)
The Devil rests in the arms of a handsome angel
A Zwahk Muchoney Production © 2025
In today's chapter, I will introduce you to Abaddon, Satan’s devilishly handsome second-in-command, but first, I must recount the strange goings-on involving Blarg.
It all started when he checked out a few books on bearded dragons. Next thing I knew, he was hanging out at a nearby café with a group of reptile enthusiasts (apparently, they love his green skin and tusks).
Blarg's a peculiar orc; some random thing will grab his attention, and he'll suddenly become obsessively interested in it.
Our apartment is now covered in lizard posters, coffee mugs, and every other kind of reptile-themed ornament he can find in the local knick-knack shops.
Now he's keeping various bits of vegetables in his pockets, feeding our dragon Agatha little green tidbits every chance he gets. She puffs up and hisses at the rest of us, but rides around on his broad shoulders every chance she gets.
This morning, I awoke to the roar of the blender. As I groggily stumbled into the kitchen, I found Blarg making a smoothie. He turned his back and started rummaging through the icebox. Half-starved and parched, I poured half the mixture into my favorite mug, downing it in one long gulp.
A vile, swampy flavor filled my mouth. When I asked him what was in the drink, he stared at me blankly, saying it was a blend of artichoke hearts and crickets. I spat out the remnants in disgust.
He shrugged and poured some of the ghastly green drink into Agatha’s drinking bowl. She puffed up with excitement, lapping it up eagerly.
As I dictate this, she’s curled up, napping atop Blarg’s head. He's so focused on programming his newest app he barely seems to notice. It seems our Dragon queen has claimed herself a loyal knight.
Now that I've caught you all up, let's return to our tale of infernal lovers.
***
The imp relayed the story to a Drekavac, who passed it on to an Ifrit. From there, the whole thing was brought to the attention of Beelzebub. The lord of rot found the gossip so amusing it mentioned it to Abaddon, the second most powerful figure in Hell.
He smiled knowingly, having himself had several trysts with Satan throughout the years.
Abaddon was a tall, fearsome angel by nature, with command over the locust swarms that caused great famines in the mortal realm. During the war in Heaven, he’d observed both sides carefully, turning on Lucifer at the last moment to save his own skin.
Abaddon was blessed with a gift for political maneuvering. Upon hearing of Satan's recent transgression, he sensed an opportunity.
He summoned a single locust to rest upon his outstretched finger, instructing the insect of a message it was to deliver unto Heaven.
He watched with satisfaction as the locust flew off, vanishing through a small portal. Once the scandalous gossip reached Heaven, he would have his chance to finally claim the throne of Hell.
***
Satan and Tzyeriel stepped out into the castle garden. It was a lovely enclosure covered in finely trimmed rose bushes, filled with the sweet scent of thorns and flowers.
They sat down on the grass, taking turns drinking wine. Tzyeriel wanted to bring several bottles on their impromptu picnic, but Satan insisted it would be better to pace their alcohol consumption throughout the day. The Seraph responded with a good-natured grin while giving Satan a sharp but affectionate pinch on the rump.
As they sat together, surrounded by the wall of rose bushes, Satan draped an arm over Tzyeriel's shoulder and said,
"I wish I could say last night was a mistake, but the truth is I'd do it all over again, even with the consequences we're bound to face."
Tzyeriel leaned up against him, took a large gulp of wine, and said,
"I wonder what else we could do while we wait to receive our divine retribution..."
The golden angel grinned placed his hand on Satan's thigh. He enjoyed Tzyeriel’s ’s touch, but couldn’t shake a question that kept gnawing at him. He gazed into those lovely red eyes and asked,
"How do you know so much about carnality? I don’t remember you from the days of the war in Heaven-“
Tzyeriel whistled as he said,
“I was created eight hundred years ago. The fallen of earth kept misbehaving, so one day, poof, there I was.” Satan nodded and continued,
“It was my understanding that all the angels borne of divine dust after the war were chaste, how do you know so much of carnality?”
Tzyeriel gave him a mysterious look. Perhaps to change the subject, he slipped his hand beneath Satan’s red robes. The horned angel sighed, smiling as Tzyeriel began stroking him in a slow, practiced rhythm. He leaned in and whispered,
“I learned of this in secret, like all the angels of desire.”
He brushed Satan’s robe aside, revealing his erect, quivering member. Tzyeriel ran his hands down to his testes, caressing them softly, while using his other hand to unsheathe himself.
The Seraph paused his erotic ministrations, pulling himself on top of Satan so that they lay belly-to-belly. With gentle effort, he took hold of the dark angel’s wrists and pulled them above his head, pinning him in place.
Satan’s breath quickened; he’d always shown dominance over his subjects, but being overpowered by an angel of Heaven filled him with an excitement he’d only ever felt with…
No, it was not the same as what he’d experienced with Abaddon. On several occasions he’d kneeled willfully before the swarm angel, but the emotions he felt for Tzyeriel were greater than any he’d known during his nights with his cruel lover.
Tzyeriel gazed into his eyes, his expression not one of brutal conquest, but of a benevolent emperor. Satan murmured,
“I would worship you, I’d-“
Tzyeriel silenced him with a kiss. Unbeknownst to either of them, in that moment, a single tear fell down Satan’s cheek, landing silently upon the garden soil.
***
Hours later, they lay exhausted, entwined in each other's arms. Satan basked in his newfound comfort. A sense of contentment filled his being, making him momentarily forget what would be the inevitable conclusion to their affair.
As they dozed together, Abaddon watched from afar, a fearful grin spreading across his face.
At that very moment, his locust messenger was flying swiftly toward Heaven. As it approached, it spotted a tall angel standing guard. It was none other than Hadraniel, a powerful warrior of Archangel Michael's battalion.
The locust got as close to him as it dared, hoping the angel might listen to what it had to say.
Unfortunately, Hadraniel's first instinct was to swat it away, swinging his open palm at it repeatedly. Only the locust’s quick reflexes prevented it from being crushed. They went back and forth like this for several seconds before Barachiel, an angel of blessings, approached them, calling out,
"Wait, don't harm it! That locust belongs to Abaddon!"
Hadraniel paused mid-swing and said,
"Wouldn't that be a good reason to swat it? The angels running Hell are devils, why would we want one of their pets hanging around?"
Barachiel put his hands on his hips, countering,
"In case you weren't aware, Satan and Abaddon aren't particularly fond of us either; if Abaddon is willing to send one of his... pets up here, there must be a good reason."
Barachiel looked at the insect, who was busily poking its little antennae out from its hiding spot behind one of the gate's golden posts, and said,
"My apologies. I'm willing to talk with you if you have something important to share."
The locust cautiously crawled out into view. It flew over to Barachiel, where it rested on his shoulder and whispered something to him. The angel frowned, nodding in response.
As it continued speaking, Barachiel's expression grew paler. Eventually, it finished delivering it’s message and flew away. Barachiel stood stunned, a strange look on his face. Hadraniel, concerned, asked,
"So, what did it say?" Barachiel swooned and fainted, crumpling to the ground.
***
Oh dear, it seems Agatha has discovered her reflection in the toaster. She's acting as if she intends to attack our poor bread crisper. Blarg is attempting to negotiate a peace deal by offering lettuce, but she's determined to go to war with the device.
I must intervene in this catastrophe. Perhaps an artichoke heart will defuse the situation.
Be well, and show great diligence in your smoothie consumption.