Work Text:
Gabriel needed an outlet. His body ached, his armor glued to his sweat-slicked skin, the oppressive heat from the red haze of Heresy seeping into his core. The solace he had found within the cold walls of this cathedral simply was not enough to sate the fire burning within him. Every second that passed was one wasted, waiting, hoping the machine would finally find its way to him. Waiting for the blasphemer to approach, so he could finish what he started.
It was so damn hot.
He had given up on simply waiting, pacing like a caged animal around the walls of the cathedral. Instead he sat upon the stool of its massive organ, fingers shaking as he struggled to remember the keys. Anything to take his mind away from here. A small song wouldn’t hurt…
The melody came to him slowly, the keys of the organ sticking under his fingers. It was choppy, a far cry from how the song should be played. But it was something to do, and for that he was grateful. It would take time for it to return to him, note by note, but frustratingly enough, time was all he really had.
A flash of anger almost blinded him. Where was that damn machine? Gorging on blood from lesser beings, drinking its fill in revelry? Perhaps it had already polished off Heresy, and he was too late? No, that couldn’t be true. He could feel his Virtues nearby, patrolling, keeping watch.
It was a maddening sort of loneliness. The frustrations poured into his music, the keys threatening to crack under his fingers. Why did he even care? He simply needed to correct his mistake. He had failed. He would not do so again.
The heat built higher still, sweat dripping down the point of his helmet. A tremor returned to his hands despite his best efforts. How long had it been since he had sat down in front of this organ? Since he had looked around for some sort of change, some indicator the machine was finally here?
His prayers were heard as the doors to the cathedral swung open, the grinding of stone alerting Gabriel to the presence of another. He did not pause his playing - not yet. The song marched forwards, somber and melancholic. The keys warped under his hands as metallic feet padded towards his resting place.
He counted the milliseconds between each step. Once dry, now wading through ankle-deep water, one, two, three, four, five. The sloshing stopped as the machine emerged onto the other side of the pool.
Now was the time to strike.
A simple speech, quick and to the point. Maybe a tad bit embellished, but it drove the point home - the machine would die, here and now. It must be done.
Despite his best efforts, the fight did not last long. With the fire pooling in his gut distracting him from most sensory information, it was inevitable. The thrill of the dance, the clashing of metal upon metal — it was intoxicating. The machine was faster than before, even more poised.
It was a futile effort, but the uselessness was the key. It was a fight for the sake of the art! Gabriel knew he would lose, or at least some part of him did. A laugh bubbled in his throat, staining the air. This was sin, he knew as such… and he enjoyed it thoroughly.
Perhaps he had fallen too far from divinity to ever be redeemed.
It was delirious, a half-baked attempt at a thought, but all of Gabriel’s base instincts lurched towards it anyways. If he was beyond salvation, what was stopping him from giving in to the fire? The passion fueling his every move? What could hold him back from claiming relief from the heat burning him alive from the inside out?
Somehow, on a sheer stroke of luck, the tide of the battle shifted. Bullets ricocheted off of his armor as Gabriel fought, his swords twirling not unlike the fans of a dancer. Every moment felt crystalline in clarity. He could see every drop of water cascading off of his gauntlets, all of the rivulets of blood - his blood - dripping from the hungry beast of a machine not even five feet in front of him. The blood began to wash away from its plating as he allowed it less and less of his vitality, each strike well parried or dodged.
A cacophony of metal concluded the duel as the machine’s body collided with the floor, held down by Gabriel’s foot. Splendor forced its head into a gentle tilt upwards. He couldn’t help but tremble in silent giddiness, a chuckle slipping past his lips.
He had won.
Yet the heat still pooling in his gut told him he was far from finished with his work.
He stood for a moment, breath heaving, staring at the machine underneath him. Its optic was trained on his helmet, most likely trying to glean any sort of emotion it could. Not that it would find anything to discern. Gabriel watched idly as its gaze drifted lower, lower, until it settled onto his crotch, tilting its head slightly to the left.
Well… nothing really got past it, huh? It was to be expected, given the direction of blood flow. A gentle throb in between his legs pulled the angel from his thoughts. No time to waste, he supposed. He had won the fight, fairly and quite impressively. It was his prize to claim.
It was quite anticlimactic, the way he settled himself onto the machine’s leg, but it made no move to stop him. Both of them were quite befuddled, to be honest. Slick, hot skin met cooled metal with a deep sigh of relief. His body told him what he needed - stuttering and slow at first, but the fluid dripping from between his thighs made the process easier as time went on.
Quiet noises slipped past Gabriel’s lips as his body moved of its own accord, his folds rubbing up against the machine’s thigh. Every so often he’d press his dick up against the cold metal and a shiver would run through his body. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, let alone why he was debasing himself so willingly in front of this… this beast. But all of the inhibitions he had reserved were left in the shallow pools of the cathedral, washed away by some higher power.
A gentle whirring alerted the angel to a panel sliding open on the machine’s crotch piece, hissing as metal opened to wiring. A phallic appendage slid up from the hole, locking into place with a few quiet clicks. His movements slowed, his head tilting to the side. As if to add to the lewd display, its legs spread out, forcing Gabriel to hover over it. The top shutter of its optic slid closed as its wings flared out in a… very alluring manner.
It was… this machine. This infernal, desecrated thing… was presenting itself to him. Offering up its body for him. Giving him complete and total control. Gabriel couldn’t help but laugh, a sharp, barking sound. Something in his gut roiled and churned at the sight, but not unpleasantly.
This machine was offering its submission, and he liked it.
Well, why let a perfectly good gift go to waste? The slick from his generous warm-up was plenty enough to coat the machine’s cock. He could feel ridges underneath his fingertips as it shuddered, fingers gripping the stone floor. There was no time to waste - he had precious little of it left. Still, he straddled its hips for a moment longer, drinking in the poise of his rival.
Cold metal, delicious in its texture, sank quite easily into him. A quiet gasp wrenched itself from Gabriel’s throat as his legs shook, forcing him to sit down fully onto the machine. A jolt of pleasure coursed through his limbs, the feeling of being so… so full wrapping itself around his body like a vice.
His hips practically moved on their own, rolling slowly at first. Underneath him, all the machine could do was whine and squirm. Faster , its optic seemed to plead, its limbs scratching at the cooled tile. He pressed his hands onto its chest, forcing it to stay still as he relished in the feeling of its cock inside of him. If only he could stay like this forever…
It was a damning thought, one that sent another shock of pleasure through him. Gabriel’s pace didn’t stay slow for long. His body wanted - no, it needed this, this urge to be full, to be sated. To finally shake off the millennia of holding himself back. Was this truly sin if it felt so good?
A pressure began to build deep in the angel’s core, winding tighter like a spring. The consistent pace started to crumble under his sheer need, gasps and soft moans filling the quiet cathedral. His hands lifted from the machine’s torso as he leaned back, one hand gripping at his helm, the other clutching at the floor. It was too much, yet it was barely enough.
The first thrust caught Gabriel completely unaware, a yelp piercing the air. It stirred something within him, and apparently within the machine as well. Its hips rocked in tandem with his own pace, shoving itself deeper into him. Occasionally it would hit a sweet spot, causing the angel’s wings to fizzle slightly out of existence. He didn’t bother to force it back down.
One of its arms - red, angular, a bit too large for its frame - raised to rest on his chest, slipping underneath his plating, the fingers digging into long-forgotten scars. The sharp tips drew fresh streams of blood, pleasure mingled with the pain of the tissue re-opening. Gabriel couldn’t help but moan, throwing his head back as its other hands grabbed at his body. Oh, Lord, what had become of him? Was this paradise?
Once it had a firm grip, he no longer had to move - it simply moved him for both of them, bouncing him up and down fervently on its cock, shoving itself as far inside as it could possibly go. The spring wound tighter in his gut. Everything seemed to fade into pastels, his vision blurring. It was too much. He was so close - to what, he couldn’t tell, but please Father don’t let it stop-
A crescendo of pleasure hit Gabriel like a well-placed gunshot, his whole body locking up as he screamed towards the vaulted ceilings. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain - it was all the same, one perfect heretical song. The world faded to white - just for a brief moment, everything was pure bliss.
It kept going, metal clashing against the floor. Even as Gabriel struggled to maintain his balance it kept thrusting, drawn towards its own goal by ulterior motives he couldn’t even begin to guess. Moans fell from his lips as the angel clung on, pleasure doubling into pain and folding back into euphoria. A second peak soon shoved any air from his lungs out into the open, his hidden mouth stuck open in attempts to cry out. A final sharp strike deep inside of him heralded warm fluid, filling him up more completely than any sort of meal. It was excess, it was gluttonous. Entirely too much for his mind to handle.
When he came to his senses, he was still sitting atop the machine, its cock no longer inside of him. Thick, whitish liquid coated its lower chassis, matching with the stains on his legs and seeping into his leg armor. It seemed… hesitant to move, looking up at him with a perfect head tilt. His legs ached. Every part of him wanted to lay down on the floor.
He was finished here.
Gabriel simply stood, despite his legs’ best efforts to force him to the ground. Without a word, he collected his swords, alighting into the stale air of the once-holy grounds they had fought upon. With a simple glance towards the machine, he vanished, the sound of breaking glass accompanying his departure from Heresy.
There was much to think about.