witches-and-devils

[witches-and-devils]

Addiction, Chapter 19

Ace was getting better at experiencing the dreams. Part of him desperately wanted to find out more about Damascus’s son’s bones and more about what the Church was planning. But to do that, he had to take some risks. It… also helped that it was Cecelia he had been trying to contact.

He was pretty sure that she had gotten the message. At least, he hoped she did. Nervously tapping his fingers against the table of the tiny cafe he’d picked out, he glanced about the small space. He’d made sure that no one had followed him, and gave the waiter the name ‘Adam’. It was fine. It was fine, right?

Fucking hell, calm down you idiot.

Damascus was back at the house, probably pouting and ranting to himself. He didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea of Ace going to meet with her by himself, kept insisting that he come with him but-

He really, really didn’t want to scare Cecelia away. Aside from answers, the chance to have a real connection with another human? He hadn’t had that in almost four years. Maybe he was just being stupid, maybe it had just been weird dreams and not secret messages sent from an old Church friend. At least the waiter was cute. He’d gotten his number. Which wouldn’t work great since he didn’t have a phone back in the villa. But if he ever came back here, it would give him a chance to have a charming story.

“U-um. Li?” Ace’s head snapped up, his head turning to see Cecelia wandering around the cafe. She’d tapped the shoulder of some stranger with a hooded face, only to jump back when she realized that it wasn’t him. “O-Oh, I-I’m so sorry, I was just looking for my friend, please ignore me, sorry--!” She wasn’t in her normal outfit for the Church. She wore a simple white hoodie and her hair was down for once, falling in small curls around her shoulders. She approached another individual.

“L-Li?” A woman with bright red hair and matching lipstick turned to her, an annoyed look in her eyes. “I-I’m so, so sorry! Um--” She glanced around with uncertainty in her eyes before hesitantly approaching Ace at his table. She peered down at him, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. “P-Please tell me you’re Li and not some, um, stranger? Please?”

“Cecelia,” Ace breathed, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he stood up. Should he… were they supposed to hug or…? Ace wrapped the small woman up in a tight embrace, letting out a quiet breath of relief he hadn’t even realized he was holding on to. “I… I wasn’t sure if that stuff with the dreams was working, or- well, hi…!”

She was calling him Li… God, it’d been so long since anyone had called him Lionel. It felt so… strange. His name always felt like a symbolic title, The Lion Cub that always followed Father Zachariah throughout the Church. It used to be a great point of pride for the young Saint, but now all it did was carry too many memories he’d rather forget. “H… How have you been? How is everything going? Are… you doing alright?” How was he supposed to bring up all the things he needed to say? He must have looked so different to her. His cut hair, his more fanciful style of clothing… at least he’d talked himself into letting his eyes remain their bright hazel instead of the milky blindness he preferred. “Y-you started reaching out to me and…” It wasn’t like he could just dump it all on her at once, hoping that she would leap into his arms and let him show her how to leave the Church safely. ‘Hey, the Church that raised you and loves you? They’re going to mutilate your best friend and make you keep performing summonings just to fuel their sick need for a fucking army. Want to run away with me?’

“I-I just-” Cecelia quickly settled into the other end of the booth, “I got so- so worried,” she admitted, shuggling about to try and get comfortable as she hugged her purse tightly to her chest. Ace was vaguely aware of the slight shuffle underneath the simple fabric. She probably had the Imp with her that’d been at that bidding party. “You and Valdis just disappeared without a trace, everyone said you were dead…! I-I--” She curled a piece of her black hair behind her ear, and her fingers began tearing up small bits of the napkin in front of her. “You were… are? Like a big brother to me, Li. You didn’t mind that I was weak, you… just… you never minded that all I could summon was an Imp. And. Now. Now I’ve found you a-ant I… if… if you need help, I’m happy to give it. I-I can’t do much, but i-if that Demon of yours is hurting you....”

Ace tensed as she reached out and grasped his hand with her own. “I-I’d do my best to help you. We can protect you! We… we’ve gotten a few more Angels in recent years, I promise we won’t let that thing hurt you!” That shot a spark of fear up his spine, he ripped his hand away from her grasp as he hissed, “No-” His heart was hammering away in his chest as he tried to keep himself from making a scene. Deep breaths, Ace. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t get it. She’s not trying to fuck with your head.

Closing his eyes, Ace sucked in a breath and held it for a few moments, carefully counting back from give in his mind. “I… apologize. N… no. No, Cece, I’m… I’m done with the Church. And- and that Demon isn’t hurting me.”

Fuck, he could already see the telltale signs of Cecelia growing upset. Was that the only reason she wanted to meet up? She thought that he was… what, kidnapped? Did she bring anyone with her from the Church? Oh God, what if- no. No, it’s fine. If he gets jumped he’ll just- all he’ll have to do is get enough distance between him and the Church, create a portal, and get the hell out of here. Simple. “S… sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It is wonderful to see you again, Cecelia, I’ve… I’ve missed you a lot. I know it must be a little weird to see me like this now, or coming across me at that party....”

An awkward silence spread between the two people. More scraps of napkin were spreading across the small table they sat at. “L-Look, I… C, there was something I wanted to talk to you about. With the Church. I just… I just need to know that I can trust you, you know? I don’t want any of this getting out and I want you to at least consider what I have to say. It… could be a little hard for you to believe.

“U-um, I just… well-” The Saint tugged at her hair, puffing out a breath, “I… o-okay, but, can I ask you something first?”

“Of course-” Cecelia swallowed, glancing around nervously as she reached into the bag and shuffled around for a moment.

“What… happened?” She looked up at him with big, pleading eyes, “I… I mourned for you- both of you. I… I’ve been alone and maybe it’s selfish to say that, but I… I… Father is the only one that takes me seriously, with you gone. I-I just want to understand what happened, Li.” She reached out her hand, pausing for a moment before slowly pulling it back. Ace huffed, leaning further into the table and awkwardly sipping away at the water in front of him. Right. The Church probably didn’t even want to risk the other Saints finding out what happened, so they just said he died. Made sense. Maybe they believed it themselves?

“Look, Cecelia… the Church… they aren’t telling you everything. There’s- there’s a reason they’re collecting Saints, you know? A reason why they want us when we’re so young and… look, it’s not to ‘keep us safe’ like they say it is.” He still wasn’t sure exactly how he was supposed to approach this without scaring the shit out of her, but...

He was already kind of doing that without telling her in the first place. “One night, Valdis and I were out practicing in the yard. We had that exam in the morning, and… we both really, really wanted to impress Father Zachariah with how well we’d been doing. Well, while we were out there, Father Zachariah asked us to come inside. I figured it was just late and he wanted us to rest, but… when we followed him...

The redhead began to shake, his wrists pulsing uncomfortably as he carefully raised the sleeves of his jacket that showed off the heavy scarring around his wrists. “Cecelia, they… they Angels are Demons. It- sounds insane, but- why did they always ask us to form bonds with Demons and work with them? Why did we sometimes watch Saints with Demons one day and suddenly walk around with a different one the next? Why do we lose so many Saints when they get older?”

He could still see it all so perfectly. Watching Valdis’s skin peel away, begging Father Zachariah and the nuns to please stop. Valdis tried and failed to scream, worried about Lionel even when all he got was some iron around his wrists. Watching them cut into his back as the man who raised him dragged him away, locking him in a room and trying to fuck with his head. To get him to ‘understand’ that what they were doing was ‘good’.

“They torture them. They- they torture them and make the Demons look like Angels. They tortured me, they tried to convince me that it was right. That they killed Valdis because they were trying to ‘make him better than what he was���. The- only reason I was able to get away was because of a freak accident. They slipped up for one second, and… i-if I hadn’t been able to scrawl some stupid symbol and crash land into the middle of God-fucking-knows-where--”

“I-I--” Cecelia stared at him with wide eyes, a pit of anxiety burst within Ace’s chest as he watched a flurry of emotions wipe around behind those bright eyes. She had to believe him, she just had to. Ace couldn’t let her go back to the Church, she wouldn’t be able to survive the process that he’d been forced through. “I-I’m so sorry you’ve been through all that,” she finally whispered, her eyes downturned and studying the wooden table underneath them. She hugged that purse she carried closer to her chest as she gnawed away at her lower lip. “It’s… it’s just really hard to… think that the Church would....”

Reluctantly, Ace reached his hands out and gently took one of hers. “Cecelia, I… I know that it sounds insane. Trust me, I know, but- but you have to believe me! I haven’t gone back to the Church because I’m terrified of what they’ll do when they find out that I have another Demon. What if they took me back? Forced me to give him up too and- and yeah, D- he isn’t the best guy in the world but- no one deserves to be....”

Tears were appearing in the corners of his eyes as he struggled to keep calm, to just get through explaining this, and to help her getaway. The chance to have someone he used to know back in his life again? To have a friend he could speak to and practice with- someone that would fully appreciate him-- “Please, please believe me. Just- consider it- look a little more closely when you go about the Church or… They killed him, Cece. They killed my best friend, I got him killed. Please… I don’t want to see that happen to you. I don’t want anyone to go through that shit again.”

He just needed her to consider it. If he could get that much, she might start to pick up on things that happened around her. She could realize they weren’t telling her the full truth, he might be able to save her... “Look, I… my Familiar and I are held up somewhere safe. The Church will never find us there and- and we could help you get away too! You and Sloth! You could get away! You’d be safe, looked after, and given freedom instead of whatever the fuck they’re shoving down your throat now. You’d just need to lay low for a bit. W-We could practice together again! I could help you grow stronger and- and we could be close again.”

Looking down, Ace studied the small rips and warps in the wooden table from years of use. He knew he was freaking her out, but- “I- I just want you to consider it. Please. Please, just consider leaving with me.”

“I--” Cecelia flinched, pulling her hands back away from Ace’s grasp as she picked at the fabric of her purse. “C-Can I please think about it?” She looked up at him pleadingly. “I need… I need time. I can’t- I-I grew up there, I…”

…

…

“I-I want to.” She paused, reaching up and rubbing her thumb over the golden cross that hung around her throat. “I-I just… I need time. Please, I… p-please?” Ace’s features softened a little, an excited look behind those hazel eyes as he pulled his hand back.

“Of course, of course! I would need to make some preparations anyway, but… I think you’ll like it where we’re held up! It’s got a ton of old books, a big walled-in garden, and plenty of beds… I’ll get straight to cleaning up as much as I can while I wait.”

Yes! YES! She said she wanted to! He couldn’t freak out too much, he knew he had to be slow about this. Fuck, he would have to tell Barnabas to maybe have Romaric steer clear for a little bit. Just so she doesn’t get freaked out right off the bat. She was already going to have to deal with Damascus.

Oh, that reminded him- “Ah… by the way- I know it might be a little hard, but I don’t go by Lionel anymore. My name is Ace? I’ll make sure everything is set up and… look, just contact me when you know what you want to do, okay?” The redhead paused, throwing a hand up and motioning for the waiter to come back over. “Here, let me buy you lunch so we can actually catch up. No stressful talk, nothing about the Church, just… old friends bitching for the first time in years, yeah?”

[witches-and-devils]

Blorbo 2?

Blorbo 2.

[witches-and-devils]

B—

Blorbo.

—Author D.

[witches-and-devils]

Hey guys! I know it's been a hot minute, so Admin D and I figured we would open up an ask box in case anyone had some questions! Requests, inquires (about Addiction or me/Admin D), etc... all are welcome!

Oooo, if you want to ask a character a question, we could respond in character :0

[witches-and-devils]

Addiction, Chapter Eighteen

The faint sound of a bell rings out in the distance-

The beautiful view of the ocean and the smell of salt lingers in the air-

Long hair ties back the messy strands left behind from the night before-

The feeling of a cool breeze as it brushes past his face-

He always felt so calm out here. Compared to the stuffy interior of the church, it was freeing to stand outside in the fresh air. It was like a thousand pounds had been lifted from his shoulders, or as if something had been constricting his throat for years and he was just now understanding what a deep breath truly felt like. Here, he could forget about all the stress, worry, and pain… all of that was gone. Far away, locked behind the big doors and hidden far out of sight.

When he opened his eyes, however, he found himself in the middle of a bustling street. Nervous tension filled his smaller frame, his dress caught as people brushed by, and their uncaring eyes stared forward as they passed. Panic seized his chest, his hands lunged out in the hopes of dining the familiar comfort of his Familiar to cling to. Lanky arms that would wrap around him and comfort him as they had during the worst moments of stress and tears. He reached out for that stabilizing presence only to clasp onto loose fabric and watch as pale hands covered his own. He looked up, his vision taking in a pair of rich brown eyes.

“Lionel?”

⬲⦓⧫⦔⟴

Ace rocketed up, out of bed. Rivets of sweat poured down his back as the Witch struggled to take in a deep breath. Hands shooting out, he paused as he met the thick skin of the large Demon beside him. Damascus’s earth-shattering snore continued to ring out, and for once? Ace was happy about it. The sound calmed him and reminded him that he wasn’t there. He wasn’t back with the Church.

… What the fuck was that? Ace groaned, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands as he struggled to reorient himself to his surroundings.

Damascus must have been too tired to make it back to bed after last night. It didn’t happen very often, but… well, it was usually a toss between Ace being terrified about the murderous man sleeping beside him after all the attempts on his life, and the relief he felt as the comforting presence of another person in his bed. Bare feet braced against the cool, wooden flooring of his makeshift bedroom. He stood up after mustering the strength to lift himself into the air, only to feel the familiar aches and pains he’s grown accustomed to by this point.

This was the fifth time in a week that this had happened. Normally, he’d chalk it up to nothing more than a spike in stress, but it wasn’t like they were working right now. They were well hidden, the only stress in his life at that moment was keeping an eye out for any Church activity that was growing too close to the forest and the homicidal familiar as they danced around whatever the fuck their relationship had become. It was a fair amount of stress, of course, but it wasn’t enough to warrant any strange dreams aside from the normal nightmare or two he’d encounter.

Which meant that this could only be one of two things. Either this was a strange series of dreams and coincidences, or a Witch was trying to reach out to him. Ace was more inclined to believe the latter, but what Witch aside from Barnabas would be trying to reach out to him? Someone in the Church? They’d used his real name. It wasn’t like it was Father Zachariah, he wasn’t a Saint.

Worried, beautiful brown eyes danced in front of his vision before a jarring moment of alertness.

“Cecelia,” he murmured, quietly cursing himself as he glanced back at Damascus. Sighing under his breath, Ace quickly threw on his clothes from the night before. He went to dart out the door, but… if this was Cecelia, he didn’t want Damascus barging in and questioning what the fuck he was doing. So… the Witch grabbed a scrap of paper from his spellbook, scribbling down before slapping the note on top of the Demon’s chest.

“Gone to speak with Barnabas.”

⬲⦓⧫⦔⟴

“Alright. Now when you harvest honey, you have to keep in mind to be very gentle when handling the bees.” Ace pursed his lips as he neared the house, pausing when he saw Barnabas and Romaric huddled around a nearby bee hive. They nursed a small fire, carefully directing a thin line of smoke into the hive. “The smoke makes them sleepy. It doesn’t hurt them, promise. And then you gently take out sections of the box, scrape some of the honey off… and that’s what we use for our tea.”

The old man showed the marred Demon how to take care of the tired little insects, putting one on his fingers to show how docile they were when they breathed the smoke. “See? The bees are like you. They see something scary approaching their house, and they want to protect it. So we make them sleep, so we don’t get stung. But we also give them a nice house to live in, so we take some of the extra honey they make. It doesn’t hurt them so long as we leave them enough for the winter. If we don’t, they need to go out and then they end up getting too cold, and dying outside their homes.”

Despite the shudder that crawled up Ace’s spine every time he so much as caught a glimpse of Romaric, the scene before him was so… peaceful. To the scarred, makeshift Angel, all that existed was him, his Witch, and the bees that were nice enough to give them their honey. All it proved to do was drive that wedge of guilt for Ace’s violent reaction further into his chest. He nearly jumped when he realized Barnabas was staring at him from over his shoulder.

“Well, well. Finally rolled out of the bed made for two?” The Witch paused, his face warming as he cleared his throat. Okay, no- he was not here to talk about the strange state he and Damascus had found themselves in, he was- Barnabas looked back, gently guiding Romaric’s hands. “Easy, easy- remember, the bees are more delicate than grass. Gently put them back. There we go. We can’t pet them for long, because they’ll get scared.” Romaric carefully lifted the bees and put them back into the hive as if they were made from porcelain.

“Goodnight, Claire. Goodnight, Bella. Goodnight, Marcus. Goodnight Stewart. Good-” Ace stood there awkwardly, his foot digging into the ground as he finally mumbled out,

“It’s none of your business.” He wasn’t sure why he cared what the old man thought of him, but… it felt similar to your grandmother finding the dirty magazines you hid under your bed growing up. He opened his mouth to continue, but before he could Romaric was brightening at the sound of his voice and shooting up to look over at him.

“Little!” The Demon carefully closed the bee box, sprinting over to the redhead as if he hadn’t screamed and cursed at him to get out of his sight not that long ago. “Thanks, for- for- ummmmmm- Barn? What did Little gift?”

“Oh… you mean the music?” Ace questioned, nearly jumping when that scarred face snapped back into his direction like a giddy child.

“Music! Thanks for the music, Little!”

“... No problem?” Ace glanced between Romaric and Barnabas warily, trying to keep his gaze focused on the vaguely judgmental look the old man wore. “Barnabas? May I… could we speak for a moment? Alone? Something’s been happening, and… I think I need another Witch’s second opinion.” Romaric tilted his head to the side, looking back at his guardian curiously before walking back over to him and removing a leaf from the old man’s hair.

“Thank you, Rom. Would you mind guarding the bees while they wake up?” He patted the Demon’s arm before continuing, “Just don’t stand too close, or they’ll get mad.” Romaric was already stiffening, clearly reluctant until the old man soothed his worried nerves. “I’ll just be right over here, where you can see me. You can guard both of us, no problem. And then, I’ll make sure we can make a good batch of honey tea later, okay?”

“Okay!” Rom chirped, the worries melting off him as they had never been there in the first place. He practically galloped back over to the bees. It was a little too close, but Ace’s gaze softened as the Demon opened the box, closed it, and then faithfully stood guard over his little tea friends. Then Barnabas was staring straight through Ace once again, eyebrow raised as whatever calm demeanor he had before returned to the stern look of an experienced Witch.

“Well, I’m not going to judge whatever methods you two use to get closer. Just keep in mind that the woods are quiet; you’re not.” The old man puffed out a breath, struggling to sit down on a nearby log before folding his arms over his chest and adding, “I hope you didn’t come to ask about sex magic.” Ace huffed, gently beginning to float in the air as he pulled his legs up and lowered his body toward the ground. He wanted to sit and rest, but he’d be damned if he was about to put his nice pants on the filthy forest floor.

“No, I… need something else.” So what if they were a little loud? It wasn’t like it was a big deal, it was just releasing a bit of stress and he happened to enjoy the way the scratches along his back stung as he bathed the next day. “I’ve been… the past couple of weeks I’ve been experiencing… dreams. At first, I just thought it was the usual stuff. My old room at the church, people I knew, and the area around the town. But each time I’ve had the same dream and it’s been getting steadily clearer. Like there’s a film over my eyes that’s being wiped away more and more with each night.”

It felt strange to try and explain it, but maybe Barnabas had experienced dreams like it before. Uncertainty lay behind false blind eyes as he began to chew on one of his fingernails. “I just had one again and I swore that it… I think it’s this girl from the Church. It’s starting to freak me out, so I came here. So tell me that I’m crazy and I need to stop worrying that someone is stalking my ass or trying to kill me in my sleep? Please?” Cecelia wouldn’t try that… would she? She was such a kind young woman from what he remembered and… unless it was all an act?

“Well… you can’t kill people through dreams if that makes you feel any better,” Barnabas responded as he rubbed at his chin, “But it does remind me of the old ways people used to contact each other long distance. Witches and Saints. Sometimes Demons. It was a way to call before there were phones- stop looking at me like that, yes, I’m that old.” Ace dropped the look on his face, clearing his throat as he sat back and listened. That was what he’d been afraid of. It was barely used now, but he remembered hearing stories. People who needed help, Saints that had been trapped and just barely able to send the message out before being locked up by someone who didn’t agree with the Church’s way of handling Witches. “It’s called Dream Speech. It’s mostly harmless, it can only work if both sides try to reach out to each other.”

Barnabas scrounged around in his pockets for his dice, starting to pass them between his hands. “Long story short, somebody’s trying to contact you. If you don’t want it to happen, ignore it. Things might seem slightly clearer, but some might not. But if you want to see what it’s about, it’s not exactly going to show where you are. Usually, Dream Speech is easier when you and that person have a close relationship. So if your memories are through the Church, that’s where your Speech will take place. I… feel like I’m rambling, but does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Ace grumbled, furrowing his brow as he tried to think of a reason why Cecelia would be looking for him. “... A while ago, I ran into a girl I used to speak with at the Church. They’d been telling everyone that I’d died after I left and… well, I panicked and we bolted. Aside from that, we hadn’t spoken in years and… I’m just worried as to why she would be attempting to speak with me now.”

Cecelia was sweet, she always struggled when it came to magic and there was plenty of time when she would crash over at his and Valdis’s dorm so that they study well into the night just so she could pass her inspection the next day. “She has a Familiar. And I know that she’s still in the Church. I’m… a little worried that they might take the Imp away from her or something worse, just so they have a little more ammunition in their bank. But there’s also the terrifying possibility that she’s using our old connection to investigate how I’m still alive for the Church, or-”

Ace groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “And I can’t talk about it with Damascus because he doesn’t give a shit about anything and I know that if I bring up possibly trying to contact her, he’d freak the fuck out— probably for good reason, but…. If I could keep another Saint from going through that process, Barnabas....”

“... Well, I’m just going to put a pin in that last part about you fucking and not caring. But,” the old man leaned back, his hands finally stopping instead of tossing the dice between each other as he spoke, “I suppose it a matter of priorities. Do you want to talk to her? Or do you not? … More people seeing what the Church is capable of might be a good thing. If you think she can be persuaded, talk to her.”

“But, Ace, you will not bring her here.” The Witch’s voice grew to a sharp edge, his eyes piercing into Ace’s form. “Day by day, I come closer to getting Rom home, and day by day, I get closer to dying. I am not going to let those two things overlap, and I am not young enough to be on the run from the church. Unless you are certain she won’t go blabbing that one of the Church’s first ‘angels’ are here? Don’t even think about it.” Barnabas gave a wave to Romaric as he sat there, a butterfly landing on the Demon’s nose. It was quiet and peaceful. But to Ace, Barnabas looked so… tired and old at that moment. “... I’d rather die than let him go back there.”

Ace knew it was smart for the elder to refrain from telling him what to do when it came to something like this, but that didn’t stop him from getting frustrated and wanting to snap at the old man to just tell him the right answer already. “... I know, I don’t plan to. I enjoy this forest, it’s safe. I don’t want to be followed anymore. I’m going to be careful, I just… I want to… help her.” He didn’t want to admit that he was also desperate for a possible friendly presence in his life, but he didn’t think he had to. Barnabas had this aura around himself that made it feel like the old guy knew exactly what you were thinking whenever you spoke with him.

… Maybe he did. Wasn’t that an ability some Saints practiced under the Church?

Ace looked towards Romaric one more time, who was now carefully crawling across the floor and looking for insects that might be approaching his carefully guarded hive. The Demon’s eyes constantly flickered over towards Barnabas, ensuring the old man’s safety before continuing with his hunt. “If I was able to keep my friend safe back then, I would too. Don’t worry, I’m not going to put you or Romaric in danger. I just… need to speak with her. I think.”

“Good,” Barnabus grumbled, patting the side of the log and beckoning Ace to come to sit down beside him. “Now. The pin is being pulled on this emotional grenade. What the fuck’s going on with you two? I thought you two were trying to bond. Granted, not my way of doing it, but you kids do whatever.” Ace winced at the elder’s words, looking away and trying to ignore how he only leaned his head into his palm the longer the redhead stayed silent. “... Look, I get the guy’s a bit of a bastard, saw it enough when he freaked out about Rom.... but he also brought us into that house you took up residence in and tried to see if he could help. I told him he could, and the very idea that Rom couldn’t go home shook him to his core.”

“Look, do we have to–?”

“Does that give him an excuse to be an asshole? Fuck no. But, you also gotta realize that it’s not gonna be easy. If you care, you can’t just default to ‘he’s an asshole.’ Nothing is easy and fast with Demons- unless you talk about lust Demons and sex.” Barnabas barked out a small laugh, which turned into a small coughing fit that he had to pound at his chest until it faded away. “Look, maybe you two are never meant to be friends, but I’ve known you for all of a few weeks now, and you jump to a lot of conclusions pretty fast. Take a step back, and think about why you want to be closer to him.”

…

“And if you can’t find an answer? You should send him back to Hell, Ace. Otherwise, you’re going to hurt both of you by trying to force things to work.” The amount of fear that coursed through Ace at the mere mention of sending Damascus back startled him. He did his best to mask it and force the sudden emotion back down, but knowing Barnabas, he probably caught it anyway. Just… It was selfish, but the idea of being without Damascus terrified him.

So much work was put into bringing him here, so much work was put into setting their reputation up and just trying to thrive without the Church. He didn’t want to feel small and it was so easy to feel safe when he had a big guy like him keeping everything away.

I’m not your dead friend.

…

“He… I think he believes I want him to be like Valdis. Ah- my friend. The Demon. He… doesn’t know what happened, but he knows he died and that it was my fault, so- whatever. Point is, he thinks I’m trying to… I don’t know. Make a new Valdis? Which is ridiculous, but he wouldn’t believe me either way.” Ace sounded bitter. He wasn’t trying to make Damascus Valdis. That wasn’t right- what was so wrong with him trying to make their relationship more friendly? “Look, I’ve been trying. He doesn’t trust it because humans fucked him over a long time ago. When I try to talk to him, he just yells and gets pissed off!” Distantly, the Witch was aware of Romaric whining at the sudden shift in his voice.

“It’s okay, Rom,” came Barnabas’s voice, “Remember, sometimes people need to be a bit loud to feel better. Like you do when you want to yell sometimes. I’m okay. See?” The old man patted his chest, smiling at his Familiar before looking back to Ace with a far more exasperated look to him. “Look, problems can’t only be on his end. That doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Yes, as we’ve established. Big fucking asshole. But, no one experiences trauma the same way. Some people shut down, some people scream it out.”

He scratched at the back of his head. “Demons are also similar to us in a lot of ways, but they are from an entirely different culture. Sometimes you need to read between the lines to figure out what the fuck they’re trying to say.” He waved Romaric over, patting his lap to let the Demon thump his head into it. Softly, he scratched at his ears. “Rom’s a guy of very few words. Sometimes, it’s hard to see what he means, and sometimes that can frustrate both of us. And at first, it wasn’t just that, either. Rom couldn’t be sure I would hurt him, and I couldn’t be sure that Rom wouldn’t hurt me. Communication was hard, and some days were a lot worse than others.” He squished the Demon’s cheeks. “But, we’ve come to understand each other over the years. Rom knows I’m not going to hurt him, and I can pick up on Rom’s meanings a lot better now.

“So. I guess what I’m trying to say is… these things take time. Especially if they’ve been hurt in the past by humans. It’s like if your trauma was thrown in your face and you were expected to just trust it immediately.” Barnabas sighed. “Look, can you think of anything that’s worked with him?”

“You mean besides the sex?” Ace deadpanned, sighing and breaking eye contact for a brief moment. To be honest, that wasn’t working either. Damascus tried to sneak out half the time they had sex and the main reason it was even happening in the first place had been because they were both so stressed and pent up. God, that was just reminding him of the asshole laughing at him when he mentioned bonding. Ace was many things, but he didn’t sleep around just to get some information.

It’s only happened once or twice, but there had been moments where Ace had just wanted to… snuggle up and hold the big guy for a little bit. Something, whether it was to comfort him or himself. He briefly found himself wondering if Damascus ever felt like that… but probably not. “Well… a while ago I ended up breaking something important to him. I didn't know it was important at the time. After that, I tried my best to fix it. That… he hadn’t talked about it, but I think he still has it. Oh- he gets antsy when he doesn’t move a lot. Like it… makes him angrier when he doesn’t have something to do. I’ve been trying to loosen my grip on the chain a little, but it seems like any time I try to offer him something when it comes to… freedom, he just forces the idea that he wants to kill me down my throat.” Ace groaned, rubbing his hands over his face and letting out a puff of air. “It’s like he wants me to hate him.”

Romaric hummed happily as Barnabas carefully ran his hands through what parts of his hair remained, only to question quietly, “Are Bear and Little still not friends?” He turned to look back at Ace only to gasp and nuzzle back into the comforting safety of Barnabas when Ace gave an annoyed glare at the question.

“Mm, no apparently not, Rom.” Barn contently continued running his fingers through his fur, picking out a bug and tossing it to the side. “Maybe he thinks that’s safer than you do? It might not even be a conscious decision. But he’s trying to protect himself to a certain degree, too. When you think about it, you have the most amount of control in your relationship. You could make him, physically, do anything you wanted. So he might be trying to give himself more emotional control.” He softly pulled a few dead hairs from Rom’s head. “I don’t even necessarily mean manipulation."

“For you, it’s necessary. You don’t want him to kill you, or for him to go on a rampage. But things don’t have balance.” He scratched Rom’s favorite spot. “Maybe they won’t for a while. But, maybe stop thinking from the ‘he’s an asshole’ point of view, and maybe start thinking about it from a guy who’s been betrayed over and over’s point of view.

“You’re a talker. He’s a walker. Maybe you need to try and walk with him, instead of trying to make him stop to talk... Fixing the necklace was good, maybe see what else you can find out if you do things a bit more his way. You may be surprised-” He paused, scratching at a small spot under the Demon’s chin that had him purring- “what you might learn.”

“I… I don’t know, there’s not exactly a bunch of broken necklaces laying around, but I get what you mean. I suppose I’m just not so great when it comes to actions.” Maybe he could try some things? Damascus always seemed to like it when Ace managed to get him a steak or something. He wasn’t sure if he ever cooked it well enough, but… he rarely ever cooked. Maybe he could cook?

… It would be a hell of a lot easier if the big guy just fucking told him what he wanted. Maybe he could just let the guy be in control during sex for once? It might help with the whole holding power over his issue.

He could ask Damascus if he wanted to leave with him sometimes. In a human disguise, of course, but- maybe? His mind was abuzz, attempting to sort through every little thing he’d managed to pick up on.

… Bones.

“Barnabas? Do you know anything about the Church… grave robbing old bones? Like- really old bones? Of people who were not involved with the Church?”

“I mean…” Barnabas paused slightly, looking to see if Rom was bothered by all the Church talk. The Demon seemed to enjoy his daily finger combing too much to pay attention, so... “Well, I guess if they thought it was a Saint? Or had any sort of religious significance. Like the bones could have been some person that was rumored to have touched an angel, and they’d go after the bones.” The old Saint carefully massaged the bases of Rom’s horns. His touch was particularly delicate here, sometimes they were really sensitive, and wrong moves could send shocks of phantom pain through the scars. But massaging them helped Rom avoid headaches that herbs couldn’t soothe.

“Mm… I mean, some magic can only be done with the bones of specific people? It used to be that we thought we were summoning the dead through their bones. But we were just contacting Demons that’d been close to those people.” Softly, he finished massaging the horns and moved on to the other. “They would answer whatever questions we asked them. We thought they were doing it out of reminiscence, but it seemed they didn’t have a choice. Then we found out that some Demons could be specifically summoned through similar objects- things they were attached to so strongly that they were called to this plane by us reaching out through them.”

He tapped his chin in thought. “I think it might be one of the only ways to force an ArchDemon onto this plane. They’re one of the few Demons that can say ‘no’ to a summon.”

“And if you can force a summon, you might be able to force a bond. If you can force a bond, the Church has themselves a fucking Archangel- holy shit-” Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck- Is that what they were doing? Damascus- Damascus needed to know but he couldn’t- couldn’t tell him what the fuck they wanted to do to him.

Ace had begun to shake, the mental image of Damascus sitting there with glazed-over eyes and gigantic wings overlying the scars along his back-

“Little…?” Romaric muttered, finally snapping out of his pleased trance long enough to take note that the redhead seemed to be freaking out. The Demon whined loudly, starting to move over and comfort him- only for Ace to inhale sharply and pull away.

“S-Sorry, Romaric- I’m- I’m fine- I- I have to. Think. I have to think.” He glanced back at Barnabas, swallowing heavily as he started to back up. “I have to… thanks, Barnabas. I’ll- I’ll try, I just- have to- y-yeah-” The young man turned, sprinting off through the woods until he arrived back the small, hidden village he was just finally starting to consider home. He… just hoped that he wasn’t freaking out so much that Damascus would notice. Or that he was even up. Ace… needed to write some shit down.

[witches-and-devils]

hello, i'm sorry if i intrude but your last post said you would update the story in a week, so i thought i would maybe... check up on you ? Is everything ok ?

I really enjoy your story but i don't want to pressure you or anything, update at your own pace, or don't update at all, it is of course completely in your right, and i would be glad that the story exist either way .

(But alsoooo iwouldverymuchliketoknowhowitgoesafterthatandhowitend)

I hope everything is good with you and i wish you well.

Hey! Nah, the story is still going to be updated! My two week break sort of turned into a month long hiatus with the holidays and everything else coming up.

This next part has been giving me some major writer's block. I'll update it again soon, I just need time! :)

In the meantime, I'm happy to answer questions if anyone is curious about stuff! I should probably update my life on here a bit more, now that I think about it.

[witches-and-devils]

Hey ya'll,

This week's finals, so I'll try to post something next Monday instead of today. Things are getting crazy with projects and assignments!

[witches-and-devils]

Addiction, Chapter Seventeen

Hey guys! Fair warning, there's smut near the end of this chapter! So tw for monster fucking, size differences, and general smutty-smut.

Damascus had mostly been holding up in his room. He’d managed to find an old pack of cards and was currently in the midst of a one-man poker game that was gnawing away at his mind. It’d be fine if he was able to go out and do things, but the Little Boss was still freaking out after they’d kissed. He really didn’t feel like dealing with that shit right now. This was exactly why he was both confused and apprehensive the moment the small redhead popped into the doorway and leaned against the old wood that complained and groaned the whole time. Ace folded his arms over his chest, looking like someone had just scared the shit out of him. Were they getting attacked again? Damascus was pretty damn sure the place was secure.

“Um…” The Witch began eloquently before clearing his throat, “What’s your favorite color?”

…

…

What? He gave Ace a questioning look like he’d grown an extra head or was suddenly spouting gibberish. After a beat of silence, the Little Boss continued, “Mine is lilac. I never get to wear it because it doesn’t look good with my fair. I don’t change my hair because I kind of find the idea that ‘redheads don’t have souls’ funny.”

“O… kay?”

“I also really like fiction. I didn’t get to read it a lot in the Church, so I got hooked once I was gone. Pretty much obsessed with everything. Young to adult, it’s mildly embarrassing. I really enjoy the stuff that touches on old mythic beasts, or maybe something with 16-year-olds doing insane shit I couldn’t even do.”

“Wh-”

“I also like geckos. And turtles.”

“Uh. Okay.” Damascus blinked when it finally seemed like Ace was slowing down. He set the cards down on the table. What the fuck? They kinda make out and Ace does everything he can to avoid him, but now he’s going through all the small talk topics at once? “Did you eat some weird ass mushroom in the woods?” The Familiar leaned forwards, wiggling his fingers in front of the Little Boss’s face. Then he started to puppet his hand as if it were talking, “I am a hallucination. You should definitely give me all your money. Because it’s hallucination money.”

Wait, no. He was seeing that twitch to Ace’s eyebrow that he got whenever he was getting pissed. “... Youuuuu didn’t eat any weird mushrooms, did you?” Damascus leaned back in his precious old chair, quirking a brow. “Look, not to be blunt- but also to be blunt- what the fuck? Is this some weird reverse psychology bullshit? Because I don’t deal with weird reverse psychology bullshit.” What the hell was the Little Boss planning? A bit of bonding here, a bit of slavery there? Trying to get him to chill the fuck out after their session or whatever? Not that he really had any answers about that either, just-

What the fuck?

Ah shit, Ace’s leg was bouncing. The Witch pushed himself off the doorway but didn’t retreat like the Demon expected him to. “I’m… making the first… move!”

“The fuck does that mean-?”

“I’m- pushing! I’m… pushing and- look just- you can’t- no. Fucking- don’t. I need you to just- don’t pull back. Please?” Please? Since when did Ace say ‘please’? “I really like singing? I practiced a lot when I was younger and sometimes when I can’t sleep I’ll sing to myself and pretend it’s someone else? I was… in the choir? At the Church? I also like cooking but I never cook so I’m bad at it and maybe…?” By this point, the Little Boss’s face had grown as red as his hair. “L-look. Maybe. You could. Take me. Hunting. Some time? In the woods. Or. I could watch. Or. You could. Give me. Pointers? On. Strength? I’m a bit… moodle-y? Or we could-”

“Ace-”

“What about food? I could grab something you like the next time I go out to get supplies? Or-” His shoulders slumped as a heavy sigh left him. “I’m pushing, Damascus. I’m trying to… look, I don’t know what I’m trying to do just tell me some shit about you and I’m not on drugs!”

Damascus huffed. Was this guy going to let him speak? None of what he was saying was making sense. This didn’t make- “I still can’t tell if you’re asking me on some weird, fucked up version of a date or making a terrible attempt to interrogate me.” Giving up, he leaned his head into his palm. From day one, they were business. Damascus wanted to kill him. The Little Boss needed muscle. That was it. There was no touching, there was no small talk. They had their jobs, and that was it.

Eight years of brute forcing their way through things. They get their asses handed to them by some Imps, were kinda forced to admit some fucked up shit, and yeah- okay- they kissed. But that did not mean that he couldn’t see what Ace was trying to do. A sudden, bitter resentment took over the Demon as he stared at Ace. “I’m not your dead friend.” He ignored the surprised, pained look on his face as he pushed himself out of his chair. “I don’t know what the fuck this is? But either way, I don’t fucking get it. I don’t get what’s going on anymore.”

Every bit of their dynamic was broken- not that it was great before, but there were boundaries. Now lines had been crossed. Ace was suddenly acting buddy-buddy like he hadn’t thrown him against walls or ignored his advice in fights or- Damascus groaned in frustration, his hands flying up to his hair and messing it up until it defied gravity. “I’m bored out of my mind, I don’t know what the fuck you’re up to, and now I have to deal with some weird Angel-Demon that I don’t fucking understand! Nothing makes sense!”

He started to pace back and forth in the comparatively tiny room. “I don’t know why the fuck the Church would want to stitch Angel wings onto a Demon for. Or why that sorry excuse of a Demon is still alive. It should be dead. It really, really should be fucking dead, and it’s not and it’s alive and it looks like it’s just--”

It looks like it’s in so much pain.

Growling, Damascus kicked the table, smashing it into the wall. “And I still have no idea what they wanted my son’s bones for- and now you’re acting like we’re, what, friends!?”

He stopped, panting as he took in deep breath after deep breath. After a few seconds of tense silence between the two, Ace finally spoke once again. His voice was smaller.

“I… I just… I’d like to… try to be? Maybe? And- I- I thought that-” Damascus glared at him from across the room, the cards that flitted through the air finally landing in a mess scattered across the old floor. The Witch seemed to wince away from his gaze. “You… do you… want help with finding out about your son’s bones?” That was the part he picked up on? Out of everything? “We’ve been around each other for years now and- and I’ve been expecting you to just stop being angry about the bond. I… I thought I should try? To do something? And maybe- I don’t know- make it easier? I’m not trying to treat you like Valdis, I wouldn’t even…. I just thought it might be nice if we both had someone to talk to. About our shit. There’s… some stuff I’d like to talk about and I wanted to make things more comfortable or…” 

For the first time in years, Damascus watched Ace shrink back and kneel down in front of him. The Demon almost took a few steps back, before he noticed those small hands simply reaching out and scooping up each of the playing cards. “I’m… I’ll go look for jobs. I could- I could try to put some lines out and see if I can’t come up with anything about the bones, maybe…?”

… Damascus didn’t flinch, but he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. It made him want to scream. Because he didn’t care. He didn’t. This was some manipulation. He should just kill him while he has the chance. But. The way he just. Hunched over in front of him. Picking up those cards with shaking hands and sorting them out one by one in such a robotic manner…

Damascus felt every bit of aggression drain from his body.

“... I don’t care.” He did.

“It doesn’t matter.” It meant everything to him.

He didn’t say anything else. He turned around and just… walked away. He felt that tar pit of anger boil over and stain his aching chest as he made his way outside into the woods. He just�� roared out into the sky. Birds flew off. The earth trembled. It cracked, spiraling out from his feet like it wanted to run away from him. It tore open like old wounds as he just screamed out into the quiet forest. Screaming and screaming until he fell to his knees and began to sob. Gilgamesh. Even in death, couldn’t do right by his son. He wished he could tear this chain to shreds, and hunt down whatever bastard-

Cards falling on the floor.

FUCK.

His fist crashed into the ground, digging the hole he’d found himself in even deeper.

Did you really think I loved you?

Tyrant-

Playing cards-

Piece of shit-

Monster.

⬲⦓⧫⦔⟴

Fucking. Asshole. Fucking. Clueless little shit. Damascus stomped back into the house a few hours later. He knew where Ace was. Whenever he freaked out he always liked cloistering himself in little, tiny places like an animal retreating into its burrow- but it had to be clean. It had to be clean and dark and small, but the little shit was tiny, so.

He could fit into a lot of places. But only the cupboards were clean, dark, and dry. Perfect hidden burrow. But did Damascus really care? No. Not really. Ace could have calmed down. He wasn’t. He was exhausted and muddy and he’d definitely tracked shit in, but he didn’t care-

He caught a glimpse of himself in the cracked, dusty windows. He looked like shit. Musty hair, a branch sticking out of it. It was fine. It was. Fine. Fuck that. His mood felt like it was being sucked down by a whirlpool, at one point wanting to scream, and the other just wanting to curl up in a dark corner himself. Instead, he marched straight into the kitchen, not caring whether or not Ace was actually in the cupboard.

“I don’t know why the fuck you’d want to get to know a fuck-up like me. I’m just. Broken. Broken jagged glass that cuts everything that comes near me. And I like it that way. I don’t need to talk about favorite colors and foods because it doesn’t fucking matter.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I don’t care. I don’t. I want to kill you, you want me on a leash. That’s how it works. It’s how it always works.”

He threw his hands up. “Why the fuck else would you want to get to know me except to make me more fucking- I don’t know. Obedient? If we’re ‘besties’, you don’t gotta worry about me killin’ you? And the moment we run into some shit, I’m the first to go. It’s how it works. It’s how it always works!” Damascus stopped, pausing to scratch at his arm. He. Felt itchy. “I don’t even know why I keep comin’ back to Earth. There’s nothin’ here anymore. It’s not fun anymore. I hate this place. I hate-”

Crystal blue skies, green grass.

Golden sands, jade rivers.

White foam cresting over deep blue waves.

Deep brown eyes as rich as clay-

“Fuck!” He frantically scratched at his arm before dropping his hand. His skin was red. He hated. Everything. He held his head in his hands, but he refused to cry. He wouldn’t. He’d done that already and he hated it and he didn’t want to do it again. But his eyes were rimmed red. “I’m broken. I don’t- fucking- I’m broken. Stop tryin’ to cut yourself picking up the pieces.”

Quietly, the soft clicking of the cupboard door breaking its seal and swinging open filled the room. “... I…” Ace began to carefully crawl out of the cramped space, shaking his head and climbing to his feet. “Look- I… I was just trying to make things better between the two of us, okay?” Damascus scoffed at that much, shaking his head as he pointedly looked away from the Witch.

“Things feel… weird. You’re snapping more than usual, so I know you’re feeling it too! Things feel weird and Barnabas stopped by earlier to talk to me. He said something about our bond being weak and that we’d both get ourselves killed if we didn’t work together somehow! I wanted to take a shot at it, and I know you don’t give and shit and I know all you think I’m doing is manipulating you but- fucking hell, Damascus!” The redhead was getting more emotional, that familiar bite taking over his tone. “I push, you pull back. I ask some questions, you flip a table. I want something— and you run off into the fucking woods! Just- listen to me and stop-”

The Witch slammed his mouth shut, running a hand through his thick hair as he took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his tone was less harsh. “Believe it or not, I am not going to fuck with your head! So stop acting like everything I saw has some- some hidden meaning! Did you actually stop to think that maybe- maybe I just wanted to try and make things better instead of both of us constantly having to worry about slavery and murder!? You’re not- you’re broken, but you’re not beyond repair, Damascus. Stop acting like you are.”

“Oh, and you never run away from shit?” Damascus snarked. It was easier to fall back into the habit of arguing. It was their big constant throughout the years. He loomed over the smaller man, a hand pressed into the counter behind him. “I kiss you to shut you the fuck up, and you bolted. Haven’t mentioned it since.” He didn’t know why that was what he’d brought up. It was just easier. “You keep fuckin’ actin’ like I have to trust you, but you don’t really even try to trust me. Which makes sense. I’ve tried to kill you in your sleep enough times.”

He slipped back into the old banter. It was simpler. It was fine. This was fine. He could run his mouth. It’d go back to normal. “Ya still act like I gotta trust you, Little Boss. But I can’t even kiss you without you running off because I tried to kill ya once. Oh nooo. Whatever will I do?” The Demon leaned down a bit more, his voice dropping an octave. “You can’t let me touch you, but I have to spill my guts? How unfair, Bossman.”

Before Damascus could blink, the bright pink chain was apparating and yanking him down. Their lips crashed together, their teeth clinking against each other for a few, short seconds. He felt those tiny, anger-filled hands ball into the large jacket he wore. It wasn’t gentle or sweet, it was filled with pure spite and a sudden desire that’d gripped the Witch’s chest and refused to release. Biting, gasping, when they pulled back a faint trail connected their mouths for a brief moment. Ace suddenly gave a frustrated growl, yanking his head away.

Spinning on his heel, the growl turned into a full-on yell as he began to angrily stalk about the kitchen with a fury behind those blind eyes. “You insufferable, bull-headed, idiotic, selfish, stubborn dick!” Ace barked, angrily smacking a bowl of fruits to the floor. “‘I can’t even kiss you without you running off because I tried to kill you once?’ Do you even fucking hear yourself!? You have to realize how fucking stupid you’re being! You don’t want to talk about whatever the fuck has you so angry? You don’t want to touch on the shit you should be getting out of your system? Fucking fine! You do not come at my ass and take that shit out on me simply because I’m fucking trying!”

Damascus stood stunned. One corner of his mouth twitched. His neck ached. So did a lot of things. He felt angry and horny and all sorts of ways and- he went after him. Boxing the Witch into a corner, his arm slammed into the wall next to him. “The fuck do you even expect me to do?” He grabbed the little man by the collar, hooking a finger through that big ass, fancy loop and pulling him against his body. Their lips crashed together fiercely. He growled, tugging on his lips with his teeth, and only pulling back when he tasted blood. “Maybe- I fucking suck at talking-”

He dove in again, his lips devouring Ace’s while Ace tried his best to devour him. It was a battle. Two tigers on a mountain, each trying to kill the other. His fingers locked in his hair. Soft, soft hair. Not like the mud clinging to his. Soft. And so easy to grab fistfuls of.

He’d cried today. He’d screamed, he’d felt so many different kinds of frustration, but he couldn’t communicate those. Didn’t know how. Couldn’t. The words dried in his throat, wilting and then burning in the fires of his rage. Even saying as much made his senses scream that he was making a mistake, he’d take advantage…! But action. Action he could do.

He finally parted just as he barely felt like passing out. He rested his forehead against his forearm as he propped himself into that corner. Damascus didn’t look at Ace. He didn’t know what to say. “... The fuck’re we doing?” He wasn’t sure if he was asking why they were doing this, or what they wanted to do, but… Fuck, he was an angry guy. But he wasn’t that kind of guy.

“You’re scared.” Damascus froze. C’mon, they were just getting somewhere other than the fighting, and- he watched Ace shake his head, speaking before the Demon could interject with a snarky comment, “You’re, right. You’re right, you suck at talking. We’re…”

…

“Working through our shit without talking.” Blind eyes glanced up at him, a foot slapping against his leg just to ensure that he had his attention. “I don’t know what’s going on, but everything is different, right? You still hate me, but we’re both stressed, and- it could be an outlet.” Suddenly, the redhead was reaching up and smashing their lips together once again. It almost felt intoxicating. Like drinking terrible-tasting alcohol just to get drunk.

The wind picked up, suddenly sending Damascus stumbling into the small chair of the breakfast nook before Ace was in his lip and staring up at him with oddly intense, half-lidded eyes. “If you want to? I need a truce for… just for now. And I don’t want to order that you can’t kill me. So- a truce and some stress relief? For now.”

It was funny how many emotions Ace could make him suffer through in the span of a few seconds. Afraid-- how fucking dare-- it’s true-- I don’t know what to do-- confused-- lap-- they’re never touched like-- hopeful-- terrified-- indignant-- he was supposed to be on top--

But in the end, he found his hands on Ace’s hips. He dug his claws in slightly, like a cat testing its prey. “... Outlet sounds kinda nice.”

… It was enough for him to say. He didn’t. Anything else felt far too close. Far too raw, pouring salt in rotting wounds. His claws ran up the back of Ace’s shirt. He flexed those points into his shoulders. It seemed almost… cautious, the way he was touching him. He shifted him slightly. Then moved him back to where he was. “... Truce is fine.”

… He felt so fucking illiterate. But this one time, where the Little Boss was looking over him, for once? That was all he could manage to say. Well. Except for-- “I’m in charge, though.” He watched the Witch blink, mulling over his words before his voice bluntly stated,

“Ummmm, no. I’m in charge. You’re the one that’s tried to kill me and you’re fucking gigantic.” The redhead leaned forward as if his words were indisputable as he began to leave a soft trail of nibbles down Damascus’s neck. He felt himself shiver at those delicate bites. His teeth felt so blunt, so… well, he didn’t feel dangerous. That was the point. He was bigger. He was supposed to protect him in this situation. The Demon refused to move, smirking when he heard Ace scoff and pull back with a whine. The pair locked eyes for a moment, a battle of wills. 

“Damascus,” Ace warned, that faint edge to his tone evident as he kept a firm grip on the Demon’s jacket. They continued to sit still for a few moments before the Little Boss huffed and discarded his jacket somewhere on the floor. “Must you be so whiny now?”

“Fuck yeah. You’re tiny. I should be in charge so I don’t break you in half like a magical toothpick,” Damascus deadpanned. His claws lightly dug into his hips, pushing Ace down into his lap slightly. The Demon leaned forward, skimming his teeth over the Witch’s neck. They left faint, red trails over the skin- just on the border of pain. He nipped over the slowly redding skin, his claws kneading into his hips. “I’m stronger. You’re a noodle. That���s how this works.” He bit down a bit harder. “... Your dick is tiny anyway.”

They’d been around each other for eight years. He’d seen all of Ace’s shit. Compared to his, it wasn’t very impressive. How was that going to do anything for him? He was more concerned about trying to keep his word and not break the little shit in half.

“It is not-!” Ace huffed, rolling his eyes in an over dramatic manner. The redhead leaned forward, pulling Damascus into another kiss as his teeth gently grazed over the soft skin of his lips. The Familiar tried to lean in further, ready to yank him close to his chest and switch positions only to feel his eye twitch when Ace pulled back with a hum. “Fine.”

Ace stood up. Slowly removing each article of clothing, neatly folding them, and placing them on the counter. He removed his fancy earrings and messily ran his fingers through his previously neatly brushed, fancy-ass hair. Then, he walked over to their fridge, opened it up, and happily grabbed a pack of ham. He opened it. Grabbed a slice. Then ate it as he moved out of the kitchen. Damascus blinked. What the fuck-

“Let me know when you feel like behaving!” Ace called over his shoulder, chuckling as he walked through the living room and out into the garden. Damascus blinked, processing what the fuck had just happened before-

“Wh- you little shit-!” He scrambled out of the chair. Was he being played? Yes. Was he too horny to care? Yes. Was that little fucker still going to get fucked? Yes. He was bigger, he was stronger, this was how it worked! He. How the fuck would Ace even-?

No, he wasn’t curious about that. He was curious about how he’d fuck him in the garden. Ace barely stood dirt on his clothes, he doubted he’d allow it on his dick. But chasing him through the woods only to pin him to a tree? That appealed. Would Ace let him? Fuck no.

“Get back here!” He felt a laugh bubbling up in his chest. It burst out of his lips as he chased him into the gazebo. Holding out his arms like he’d stop the naked little ham gremlin from escaping. Despite the fact he had magic. Well, if he meant to really escape, he’d have made a portal already. His face was flushed, his teeth grit. He stalked forward a few steps. “What, your fancy ass wants your brains fucked out in a gazebo?”

“Hmmm?” The little shit raised an eyebrow, smirking at him as he spoke in an oh-so-innocent tone, “Oh, I’m sorry- were you hoping for something? I just thought I’d take a midnight stroll.” Carefully lifting a hand up, Ace floated a few feet off the ground until he met Damascus’s height. “Unless you needed something?” Ace chuckled under his breath as his skinny arms hooked around the Demon’s neck. He leaned over, blunted teeth barely grazing against his earlobe as he whispered, “Is your ego really going to keep me from riding you?”

“Riding isn’t topping,” Damascus blurted, his face flushed from… running. Yup. Ignore the fact that he could run for miles and not get tired. Just. Running. He dug his fingers into his hips. Ace wasn’t getting away this time. Leaning forward, he sunk his teeth just barely into his neck enough to leave a mark, his tongue darting out and rubbing harshly over the small indents. “I’d… still be fucking you. That’s not topping.” He grumbled against his pale skin. The fact that Ace was naked was finally sinking in. His bare skin was soft and smooth, he could feel the rough patches of scars. Burn marks he’d never had answers for, claw marks, little nicks, and pockmarks. If he was poetic he’d call him some sort of little life painting, he didn’t fucking know.

This wasn’t poetic anyway. He turned to dig his teeth into his shoulder next. It wasn’t a full-on bite, but he was going to chew on him for making him chase him around. See the Witch try to cover up all these weird little bite marks. Fucking weirdo. A weirdo he was going to fuck, but still a fucking weirdo. Damascus sighed as he released the floaty bastard to remove his own clothes. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before. Lots of scars. Bite and claw marks from fights, slashes, whip marks from bastards who thought they could control him, stab wounds, bullet wounds.

All badges that showed he’d survived them all.

But the worst ones were on his back. Terrible crisscrossing, jagged things with two thick gashes down either side. Then another at the base of his spine. He’d lived, but barely. He paused when he felt a set of well-manicured nails drag across some of the scars on his olive-colored skin.

“You clearly have not been fucked well if you think riding can’t be topping, Damascus.” A pair of lips placed themselves between his shoulder blades. Hands lingered, never quite leaving him. Despite the way Ace bit the inside of his cheek or the obvious possessive touches he left in his wake, Ace’s face had taken on a softer quality. “If you insist, I’ll give in. Though no matter who is in charge, I’m not going to just listen. It is technically stress relief for both of us. And, unlike some people, I’m fairly flexible.”

Damascus’s face was red. He wasn’t blushing. It was a sex thing. Obviously. It didn’t make sense, how could- it didn’t make sense if Ace was being fucked, how-? He. Was curious. Just in a challenging way, of course, because there was no way he could make that work. Right? “I- will make you a deal.” The Demon turned his face into Ace’s neck. He bit down harder, nibbling his way up to his ear before hissing out under his breath, “You… ‘top’ me-” He put heavy quotes on the word. “- good enough? And we do this again. Not you topping again. But. Just. This.” Damascus pulled away, dark eyes glistening under the moon. “... Or else I get a free day. To myself. Doing whatever I want. And ya don’t getta stop me unless I’m tryin’ to kill ya. Which I might, who knows? Might be the case if I get blue-balled a third time.” He snarkily leaned back against the pillars of the gazebo, his skin almost looking golden in the moonlight.

He watched as a wicked gleam entered the redhead’s eyes, that hair messily framing his face. The freckles along his shoulders and cheeks seemed to stand out more in the faintly lit night air, his body littered with scars overlaying delicately pale skin. An excited giggle left the Little Boss as he grabbed Damascus and practically dragged his ass toward the center of the gazebo.

⬲⦓⧫⦔⟴

“Deal-” He practically shoved Damascus to the ground, a wry grin on his face as he went tumbling down with him. A low hum left the redhead as he settled himself in between the Demon’s thighs, snickering to himself when he saw his dick twitch in anticipation.

“Gonna let me fuck your face, then?”

“Mmmm, not quite,” Ace responded, a dangerous look in his eyes as he snapped his fingers. A strong burst of wind started to press down onto his Familiar’s body, and he only rolled his eyes when he heard him grunt in surprise. “Can’t have you trying to take over when you get a little too impatient, is all. Relax, just sit back and enjoy what I do to you.” The Demon growled in response, but aside from that Ace simply wrapped his mouth around his cock and began to slowly bob his head up and down.

The Archdemon had a strange taste to him. Musky, and smelling of spices Ace couldn’t quite recognize with the faintest tinge of sweat. His nails dragged up the man’s chest, his tongue swirling around the tip as he pushed down until he was pressing against the back of his throat. Ace gagged at the sensation, tears springing to the corners of his eyes but the moment he felt the Demon trying to thrust up into his mouth at the sensation, he was pulling off and the winds were forcing him down once again.

“I’ll stop altogether the next time you try that, big guy,” Ace warned sweetly. It wasn’t true, but the possible threat seemed like enough to stop the larger man from trying anything else as he went back to his work. His jaw ached from the size, his ears faintly aware of the sound of Damascus’s claws digging into the wood underneath him as Ace dragged the blowjob on to an agonizingly long pace with him stopping the moment he thought Damascus was getting too worked up only to start all over again with the same slow, torturous pace.

Finally popping off the Demon’s large member, Ace’s smirk only grew as he leaned back to stare down at the larger man. Strained puffs of breath had misty clouds escaping Damascus’s lips, the wind pressing him down into the wood keeping him from reaching up and yanking the redhead back down onto him. “Feeling impatient?” Ace hummed, laughing when the only response he got was a frustrated growl, “There, there, big guy. We’re getting to the best part now, just relax.”

It felt so strange to hold such confidence around his Familiar. All those years of fear and tension were fading away, if only for just a few, brief moments while his mind clouded over with lust and fascination at seeing this new side to the man he’d spent nearly a decade with. He climbed up between the Demon’s legs, one of his hands only teasingly brushing against his cock before he settled on his broad chest. Leaning down, he yanked the man into a bruising kiss, feeling those sharp, shark-like teeth hungrily devouring him the moment they connected.

It took Ace a moment to fully realize that the strong winds that kept the Demon pinned to the ground had faded in his distraction, freezing up the moment he felt Damascus’s strong arms gripping tightly onto his thighs and practically shoving him down towards his cock. The Demon’s glowing eyes seemed starved, ready to flip the redhead over and fuck him into the dirt with wild abandon. “Hey!” Ace complained, flicking a hand out as the winds came back in full force. His arms hit the old wood, splintering the flooring underneath him as the Witch took a moment to catch his breath and delicately tend to the shallow cuts made in his lips. “We had a deal, Damascus-”

“Well, if ya weren’t so damn slow-”

He cut the man off as he let his dick prod at his entrance, having to hold back a quiet chuckle when he heard the breath in his throat catch. “None of that. We both know that if you were in charge, you’d be taking your sweet ass time too. If only just to fuck with me.”

“You fuckin-” Ace rolled his eyes, just barely sinking down onto his erection enough that he could feel the tip firmly nestling inside of him. A low gasp of pain escaped the Witch as he froze mid-way. Fucking-

Okay-

He-

Was going to have to pick up some lube the next time he was in town if this was going to be a regular thing.

Ace lifted back up, much to his Familiar’s annoyance.

“Ace-”

“Oh shut up, you’re gigantic!”

“Which is why I told you I needed to-”

“Talk about taking over again, Damascus, and I’ll leave. Walk straight back inside and take care of myself. You want that?” A tense silence fell over the two for a few, heart-stopping seconds before the Demon grunted and looked away. “Exactly.” He moved back, letting his hand slowly drag up and down his cock as he watched the precum beading near the tip. He smeared as much of it as he could over the top, only humming and giving the base a small kiss when he heard the Demon growling at him once more.

Repositioning himself, Ace began to slowly sink down onto him, moving at an aching pace that had his dick twitching as he leaned back and braced himself on Damascus’s legs. He couldn’t help the low cry as he forced himself down another inch, his nails digging into the Familiar’s skin for some kind of purchase as he reached the halfway point. He could already feel his legs shaking, mouth lolling open as he tried to catch his breath and keep a hold of himself. When he looked down, he smirked through the nerves in his body that were screaming at him to adjust. Damascus’s gaze was glued onto where they were connecting, his eyes darting up occasionally to witness the expression on the Witch’s face as each painful moment slowly passed.

“Enjoying the view down there?”

“You ain’t gonna be walking for a couple’a weeks if ya don’t keep movin’.” He laughed at that, letting himself fall forward to brace himself on his chest before his legs dropped him down the rest of the way. A sharp scream escaped him as pain shot up his spine, freezing him solid as his back arched and his teeth clenched from the sensation. It was going to be worse in the morning, but for now, he could already feel some of the pain fading away to a dull buzz as he felt the comforting weight of the Demon’s cock pressing against his insides. “Fucking Hell, Ace-” he heard Damascus murmur as he straightened himself out.

Every part of him was screaming to prove the fucker wrong and to make sure he wasn’t ever going to forget it. A fiery determination settled behind his fake-blind eyes, his legs situating themselves underneath him as he began to raise himself up and drop back down onto his dick over and over again. Ace could feel the strange emptiness that was left behind in his wake, quickly filling once again with each movement as he rocked his hips back and forth. One of his hands reached up, grasping onto one of the larger horns on the Demon’s head as he screeched. Damascus panted heavily. A low groan escaped him as Ace began bouncing up and down at just the right angle to have the cock slamming into his prostate repeatedly. Dark spots entered his vision as he threw his head back, drinking in the sounds Damascus was making underneath him as he felt the pressure in his stomach building to an unbearable level.

    Ace was too caught up in the feeling, desperately chasing his own release that he didn’t realize it until his Familiar was roaring and his cum was adding to the pressure inside of him. He froze in his movements, breath stuttering to a halt as he felt himself being filled to the brim. Some leaked out, coating the man underneath him and staining the wood. Shakily releasing the breath that had caught in his chest, he slowly pulled off of the man’s sensitive cock and closed his eyes at the feeling of some of his cum leaking out of him.

Leaning forward, Ace slowly slid up the Demon’s chest with clouded eyes. He settled with his knees on top of Damascus’s shoulders, his hand grasping his cock in his hands and furiously beginning to pump up and down in an attempt to finally reach that release he’d been building to. Damascus locked eyes with him, and had it been any situation? Ace would have been too flustered to hold that hungry gaze. They weren’t done, not by a long shot. Ace knew that the moment he felt his hips jutting forward and watched his cum dribble onto the Demon’s chest and face.

The second the winds died down, he wasn’t surprised when he felt Damascus’s large hands picking him up and pinning him down to the post of the gazebo.

⬲⦓⧫⦔⟴

Ace wasn't exactly sure when they had managed to get back into their bedrooms. What he was aware of was the intense burning pain shooting up his spine any time he tried to shift on the bed. His shoulders arched. His arms felt like jello. He felt like a big puddle of ‘bleh’.

And thus he decided to announce his displeasure with the current state of his body, with a tired groan. Followed by him painfully shifting onto his side and throwing the blankets over his head.

Ugh, everything needed to fuck off, and let him go back to bed. He tried to snuggle further into his sheets but the loud snoring proved too loud to ignore. Ace flipped the covers down, sitting up enough to stare over at the stupid oaf that had passed out on the remains of the nearby couch. It had since broken its legs and now rested awkwardly flush with the wood flooring. Ace narrowed his eyes, grasping one of the scratchy old pillows… and chucking it straight at his head.

“Mmnnhrf-” Damascus snorted awake. He spat the pillow out, deadpanning at the ceiling as he sat up with a groan. “... Fuck,” he grumbled, digging a piece of the couch out of his ass before scratching at his back. “How the hell’re we inside?” He questioned, rubbing his eyes. Ace gave a soft hiss of pain.

“Well, you got pretty excited after the first round, then the second was in the hall, third was… somewhere? Did we end up here on the… couch? Or maybe the bed?” He raised a hand, rubbing over his face before yanking the covers up to his chin and huffing. Everything hurt. Yeah, it’d been a bit. And yes! Ace knew how to adjust! But that didn’t stop him from overdoing it. He knew what he was doing last night, but- he just wanted to show off that Damascus was wrong.

His face warmed at the thought of last night, another bead of excitement coursing through him when he remembered the deal for another time. Was this… going to be a thing? No relationship, obviously. That would be far too toxic and he couldn’t stand trying to adjust to something like that. Still… he wouldn’t mind it being a thing. Just something they did. Every once and a while. “I… don’t think this is what Barnabas meant when he told me we should strengthen our bond.”

…

The redhead began to cackle, his face turning a bright red as he fully realized exactly what they’d both done the other night. He wasn’t sure if it was pure amusement, embarrassment, or both. His laughter just filled the room as he flicked a hand up. Sure enough, the giggling Witch began to float up into the air and move over towards the dresser to find some of his clothes for the day.

He needed a shower. He briefly wondered what exactly he looked like. Damascus had bitten down pretty hard at some point… he hoped he could cover most of the marks up. He scooped up one of his nice, thick collars and carefully tied it around his neck. His train of thought was cut off when he started to hear the loud laughter of his familiar.

“Y-you- pff, is that why you were fucking- o-oh fuck- I can’t breathe- you- y-you- you started spewing all your little small talk shit so you could- well, you got to know some things. Explored all sorts of new secrets I had. Seen the sights, tried new things, uh-” His laughter made him topple over onto his side. “A-and now you can’t even walk. Damn. What, we gonna make this a thing that you- you get a dick up your ass, and I say something like, ‘Oh, my favorite color is light blue?’” his laughter only grew at the thought.

Ace tensed, his face reddening slightly before a sudden gust of wind sent the remains of the couch toppling backward. “Fuck. Off. Damascus.” The laughter was just irking him more. He hadn’t sl- “Barnabas told- stop laughing, you ass! Barnabas told me that we were weak and… and pointed out that I knew jack shit about you! So yes! Yes, that’s why I started asking you questions, sorry I wanted to try and get to know you? I don’t sleep around for shit like that, just- fuck off Damascus. You already showed me that you don’t give a shit how much I try anyway,” he snapped. God, he was just trying to relax. He was so exhausted now and-

He knew he was going to regret this shit. The redhead grabbed another pillow, chucking it across the room at the still-laughing Demon before stalking out and slamming the door with a flick of his wrist. “Ass!” He shouted. Why the fuck had the thought things might be different? They already agreed that this wasn’t going to change anything and that it was just going to be a once or twice type of thing, but…

Sharp claws scratching down his shoulder blades.

Gentle purrs as sunlight pours through the Church windows.

Snark and pleased hums as his blunted teeth leave indents in olive skin.

Fingers brush through his long hair as he studies late into the night.

… Fuck off.

[witches-and-devils]

Addiction, Chapter Sixteen

    He’d been avoiding Damascus since the kiss mistake. It was impossible to be around the Demon without thinking about the way that he’d tugged on his hair or how he’d basically engulfed him into his being. It was making it hard to focus and, frankly, Ace had been on edge ever since.

    Part of his brain screamed at him for pulling back. It’d been so long since he’d slept with someone and… well, the other part of his brain chastised his brief moments of weakness. Damascus would have killed him if Ace had let him. He just knew that he would and… well, no amount of hoping was going to change that.

    It wasn’t like he cared for the guy, really. He was just so pent-up that it was killing him.

    Ace growled, forcing his hand forward and allowing a sharp gust of wind to blow away the remains of a shattered bench. The large ballroom in the house had yet to be fully cleared out, and if Ace was inside, he was more likely to wander across a certain Familiar. So he’d taken it upon himself to practice his magic on the nearby furniture and ruined parts of the garden.

    If he was practicing, he wasn’t thinking about Damascus.

    Slow and lovely music rang in the Witch’s ears, his headphones securely strapped to his head as he moved fluidly about the area. His feet seemed to know the dance by heart, his hands easily conjuring small wisps and blade-like walls of wind to cut down whatever was in his path. He’d been attempting to mix his techniques, lifting himself off the ground at times and destroying shields he created from thin air.

    Destroying the rotted wood was a healthy way of releasing his anger anyway.

    “Interesting technique you’ve got going there,” a raspy voice called, causing Ace to whip around and yank his headphones out. Every nerve was on edge as his eyes landed on the old man that’d been in their hideout just a few days prior. He was surrounded by a strange shimmering light, if Ace was to guess it was the elder’s version of a shield. Probably a good idea, Ace was a few seconds short of throwing out some type of offensive magic from the sudden intrusion.

    “Who-” The old man put a hand up in warning.

    “Just telling you now, I’m going to be blunt.” The guy looked like he might have been in his eighties, but he was probably much older. Magic tended to extend your lifespan depending on how deep your reserves were. He had glowing yellow eyes, weirdly similar to the golden hazel that stayed hidden behind Ace’s blind facade, a large scar tearing down the side of his face and cutting through the thick white beard that sprouted from his chin. The stranger leaned against the wall of the villa. He looked like the type of old man that needed a cane, but was too stubborn to actually get one. If he even could all the way out here. “... You’re from the Church, aren’t you.”

    Ace’s blood froze. It… was probably obvious, but he still didn’t like it being pointed out to him like it was painted on his forehead. It wasn’t a question. The old man put a finger up to silence Ace before he could even open his mouth to attempt some sort of half-assed lie.

    “A former member of it, maybe, but I knew that look you gave Romaric. The horror and terror is something I know only former Saints experience. Because you know what they did to him.”

    “Listen-” The man glared daggers straight through the redhead.

    “Not done.” His free hand fell to his pocket, the shield never once fading from in front of him as he pulled out a few dice and began rolling them between his gnarled fingers. “I’m not here to judge. Or ask why you got out of it. But we were here first and we’re not leaving. Your traumas are your own, but you have no right to treat him like that. If you don’t want to see him, you can leave.” Those harsh old eyes stared daggers at the younger Witch. “I’m not going to tell him he can’t wander around the place he’s known for the last three decades.”

    Silence radiated off of the redhead as he stared over at the old man. He… honestly had been terrified ever since he learned of the strange hybrid’s existence. After he’d had some time to calm down and actually think about it? He probably shouldn’t have been so scared in the first place. The lack of Church clothes, the way they talked, hell even the way they carried themselves all seemed to be quietly reassuring Ace that the two had gotten out. Especially considering that the Demon was… the way he was?

    “... I apologize. For my behavior. If it’s any… consolation,” Ace murmured as he bowed his head, only a little miffed that Damascus had seemingly let this man in without asking him about it in the first place. Then again, that was assuming the old man hadn’t just walked in by himself in the first place. “We’ve been having some close calls with the Church as of late, and I’ve only been out for… I guess I’m still a bit jumpy.”

    It wasn’t a great excuse. He knew he shouldn’t have screamed and lost control of his magic like that, but… it was like he wasn’t even there. When he’d seen the hybrid, only the part that was terrified of the idea that whoever these people were, they were sent to take him away- take him back to the Church or kill him. Ever since his run-in with Cecelia back at the party, he’d been so worried about any mention or sign of the church.

    “The time away doesn’t help much, but… yes.”

    …

    “May I ask why he can talk?” That creature had seemed like some sort of enigma. Angels never spoke. They never showed any emotion, period. They were remade and reconfigured to only be mindless machines that did as the Church wished. But he knew he hadn’t misheard it. It had spoken earlier, Ace was sure of it.

    “They didn’t finish. I didn’t let them,” the man said simply. He didn’t… look like he wanted to explain further, but seemed to give in with a sigh as Ace stared at him intently. “He… was one of the prototypes. Years and years ago, when they first started trying to perfect that abominable practice. They killed a lot of Demons trying to get it right.”

    The elder paused, staring off into the distance as he held the pair of dice against his lips. “... It wasn’t always so bad. They used to just… protect the people from Demons that went out of control. No one wanted a dangerous Demon razing towns and killing innocents, so turning them to a better purpose was… well, one bad egg got into the batch, and the whole place rotted. It used to be good, but I couldn’t be a part of it when I saw him.”

    His wrist rolled as he started to pass the dice between his fingers again. “He was curled up in a cage like an animal. His Saint killed and he couldn’t even--” The old man hesitated, cutting himself off as he shook his head as if it would clear a fog that had surrounded his mind. “I made a pact with him, then took him far, far away.” His eyes began to stare off again, as if seeing some old horror. His mouth opened, shut, then a sigh erupted from his lips as he placed the dice back into his pockets. “I’m only saying this to you since you know what it’s like. And probably have experienced the worst of it.”

    Fucking hell, Ace was starting to shake again. That familiar tremble rolled through his fingers and hands as he shoved them stubbornly into the pockets of his jacket.

    “He can’t go back to Hell. I don’t know if he has family who thinks he’s dead, or… what have you, but whatever they did to him? It made it so he can’t go back through the conventional portals. He can’t make them, can’t be taken through them. He’s just… in Limbo, if you’ll excuse the pun.” The saddened face barked out a strange sort of half-laugh. “My one life’s work is to try and get him home.”

    Ace sighed as he shifted and kicked at the ground underneath him. He didn’t need this, he didn’t like talking about the Church and what happened. He didn’t… but now this old Saint was telling him so much shit and it felt important.

    “... They, ah… they took my friend. He didn’t make it.” Ace swallowed, refusing to even look at the Witch. He didn’t want to look up and see anything. Pity, understanding… all of it would feel hollow for him in the end and would carry a reminder that what had happened had been the equivalent of having his soul ripped from his body. “I’m… sorry. About him. It doesn’t help, but… yeah. I saw you guys in the house and… well, like I said, I’ve been jumpy. You’re right, this is your woods. And if I can- well… portals to Hell aren’t exactly my specialties, obviously. But I’ve been told I’m fairly strong.”

    He wasn’t… Ace was not used to talking to people who understood what he’d gone through. He’d refused to talk about it in depth with Damascus, he wouldn’t have even if the Demon had actually tried to press about it in the first place. He didn’t know what to say. How much was he supposed to say? His story probably just sounded like the mimicking of any other poor fool’s story with the Church. Still, this guy was… old. How had he survived this long? Had he really been strong enough even at this age to keep a Demon in check and remain healthy?

    “My name is Ace, by the way. The big guy in the house is Damascus, if he hasn’t introduced himself already.”

    “Oh yes, he mentioned it in between rambling about how freaked out he was after seeing Romaric.” The elder let out another barking chuckle. “I don’t think he’s connected the idea that angels are… made. But....” When Ace finally looked up, all he saw was a strangely sympathetic look in the old man’s eyes. “... I’m sorry to hear about your friend. If I could have stopped them back then, I would’ve. But I was one voice in the growing crowd, so I picked one sad sap I could save instead of letting him suffer with his dying fellows.”

    …

    “You met Romaric. You can call me Barnabas.” … There was a story in the old books about someone named Barnabas, Ace could remember that much. A Saint who’d wielded the Sun. He fought an ArchDemon, raised an army of angels against the darkest pits of Hell. He’d ascended to Heaven fifty years ago, carried by the Angels who aided him in Defeating the first ArchDemon of Pride…

    “You and Damascus… How long have you two been Bonded?”

    Ace had to bite his tongue to keep him from shooting back his own questions. He didn’t like people prying into their business, but… this guy was willing to let them stay in the woods and he’d known a bit about what Ace had been through in his time with the Church. “...Eight… going to be nine years in a few months,” he muttered, finally feeling his shoulders lax as some of the tension left him.

    Why did he want to know? Pure curiosity? Was he trying to gauge how much of a threat they were? Did he know that Damascus was an ArchDemon? He doubted Barnabas had heard about the two of them if he’d spent the last couple of decades living in these woods with that… Romaric.

    Ace carefully settled down on the ground, using some of his magic to keep him afloat in the air. He wouldn’t dare to actually lay down in the dirt. “I summoned him a couple of years after leaving the Church. He’s a Greed Demon, if that wasn’t obvious just from talking to him for a few minutes.” Was he supposed to feel like this guy was judging him? It felt like Barnabas could read his very being and character just by looking into his eyes. He found himself subconsciously lowering his gaze to the floor and fiddling with the collar around his neck just to give himself something to do.

    “... You’ve been together for nine years, and your Bond is that weak.” Ace froze as that hawk-like gaze bore through him. The old man seemed almost shocked. “... How are you even still alive?”

    “Hey-” Ace started, only to be cut off with a flick of the man’s wrist.

    “No, you don’t get to look at me like that- do you honestly not know what a partnership between a Demon and its human is supposed to be? If you’re fast and they’re slow, you be their legs. If you’re weak, and they’re strong, they be your strength.” Barnabas huffed out a breath, pushing off the wall. “You talk as if you’re enemies. That’s going to get you killed, even us old-timers could kick your sorry little asses.”

    “Wh- hey!” Ace grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing as he pushed himself to his feet and followed after the man as he limped out of the courtyard. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that the two of them had some… issues, but… they weren’t weak. Besides, how could he truly get along and work well with Damascus? He tried to kill him any chance he got! He would have killed Ace the other day if he hadn’t stopped him. Sometimes it felt like whenever Ace tried to push Damascus would yank himself away, and Damascus never tried to push unless there was something in it for him.

    The fight with Julia had been exhausting, but… Ace knew they wouldn’t have survived that if it hadn’t been for their teamwork. Couldn’t they just… come together when they really needed it?” “I can’t exactly strengthen a bond when he doesn’t want to strengthen it either!” He yelled. Damascus would much rather see himself free and Ace dead. Ace wanted that connection with another. It was always treated as something special between him and Valdis over their years together.

    They played, they talked, they slept in the same bed. Ace always knew that he was safe with Valdis around and… Val… Ace sighed. No getting caught up in his thoughts now. Did he sometimes mistreat Damascus? Yes. But whenever he tried to fix it… the other half just moved further away. Even after sharing some of their pasts with each other.

    “Uh-huh, what’s his favorite color?” Ace fell silent, thinking it over. Red…? No- blue? He… never really thought to ask, but that hardly mattered, did it? “How old is he? What’s his favorite type of music? Does he have any family? Does he have any friends? Does he have any pets?”

    …

    …

    “You don’t know the first few basic things about him, and something tells me you haven’t even asked him.” Barnabas puffed out a breath. “Not all of it is your fault, but not reaching out in the first place isn’t going to give you a ledge to grasp onto. And no, I don’t mean speeches about ‘How you should get along’ or telling him he’s supposed to like you.” A heavy guilt settled in Ace’s chest. It felt like he was being scolded by a mother or father as if he couldn’t grasp the very basics of treating other people correctly. Maybe he couldn’t?

    “Look. You lost your friend. You want that bond again. He’s not giving it to you. But have you thought about how maybe there might be a reason for that?”

    It was my wife’s necklace.

    “Demons are closer to humans than the Church likes us to think. They feel pain, they feel fear, they feel love and joy, and sadness. Just like we do- but in extremes.” Barnabas finally stopped as they came out of the front of the mansion. He sat on a bench with a weary sigh. “... Demons live for thousands and thousands of years. They can hold grudges for that long. They can love someone for that long. So instead of working rationally, and thinking nothing matters- everything matters to them. Long lives and long memories give them a plethora of experiences. And when shit goes down? It haunts them.” Ace settled down on the bench, sighing as he scratched at the back of his head. “... The Church won’t tell it this way, but the reason the first Demon of Pride went on a rampage was because she took a human lover who was murdered.”

    “What?” The old Witch nodded sagely, his eyes focused on something far off and unseeable to Ace.

    “She killed people for hundreds of years, hunting down every drop of their blood through generations. And when she was finally stopped? She was asked why she did it.” He paused, rubbing at his tired eyes. “... She told me she couldn’t bear the pain. A pain she’d only felt grow after centuries of grief. They don’t just ‘get over’ tragedies. They live through them over and over. That goes for Pride, for Envy, Lust, Sloth, Wrath, Gluttony- and yes, even Greed.”

    …

    Come to think of it, the only things Ace really knew about Damascus was that he’d lost some people and gone through the betrayal of his wife and son. Well, that and he was obsessed with chairs that he could fit in.

    Ace… hadn’t really thought about it like that. Maybe it explained part of why Damascus was so angry…? Why he had lashed out in the bathroom back at the auction? He’d been so convinced that Ace was going to betray him or make him do something he’d regret…

    He… could try, but the Witch didn’t know the first thing about talking to his Familiar. Ace’s head clicked up, finally locking eyes with Barnabas. “Ah, listen… well… If… if you’re going to be going back, then maybe-” Ace paused, reaching into his pocket only to pull out a small black device and hand it over to him.

    “I don’t… I would like it if we could stay as… mutuals, at the very least. With you and Romaric. I don’t have… a lot of people and it would- I suppose I wouldn’t mind it if you two stopped by. Once and a while. Maybe. Romaric might like this? There’s nothing too bad in the music, it’s mostly a lot of older pieces but… I find it calming, and I… wanted a new one anyway, so. Yeah.”

    He placed the mp3 player on the bench when it wasn’t picked up, swallowing heavily before continuing, “I… I’ll think. On what you said. Thank you, Barnabas. Let me know if I can help you with your work. Consider it… my version of rent?”

    Barnabas chuckled at that, scooping up the small device and pocketing it as he stood up from the bench. “Fair enough, Ace. Talk with him, yeah? Or something. The silence isn’t going to make you closer, no matter how much time you spend in it.” Ace blinked as he watched the old man limp away, back off to whatever empty shell of a home he and Romaric had stayed in since coming to the forest.

    “Yeah… yeah, we’ll see,” he whispered, waiting until Barnabas disappeared into the trees before reluctantly slipping back into the home.

[witches-and-devils]

I WAS BUSY BEING SPOOKY AND TOTALLY FORGOT TO POST THE CHAPTER YESTERDAY AH

[witches-and-devils]

Kinktober Day Eight, Creampie

Hey, warning! Smut underneath containing monster fucking, a lot of dirty talk, some praise kink, and creampies. Enjoy!

    “You’re being ridiculous,” Ace hummed as he tilted his neck to the side, allowing Damascus to nibble along his shoulder while the Witch worked. He’d been in the middle of getting ready, hair still wet from the shower and button-up shirt still undone when his Familiar had slipped in and decided that distracting the redhead would be a great way to try and keep them from leaving for business. “This meeting is important, you know.”

    “Mm,” the Demon hummed in bored agreement, his teeth skimming over the faintly glowing mark on Ace’s neck so that he could watch a shudder come over the Witch.

    “You’re going to make us late,” Ace insisted, twisting out of Damascus’s oh-so-tempting grasp. He walked back into the kitchen to search for the vest and jacket he’d set out earlier. He could feel the heavy lumbering steps behind him as the Demon followed him around. As expected, as soon as he stopped to finish fixing his shirt, the man was on him again. This time he spun him around, swooping down and engulfing him in a bruising kiss where his shark-like teeth pulled at his bottom lip just enough to bruise and draw a small amount of blood. The sensation sent a spark through the Witch as he leaned back against the counter with a groan. “Damascus-”

    “Can’t tell me ya ain’t interested. Fuck the meetin’, we just threaten everyone if they complain ‘bout anythin’.” The Familiar was practically purring in his ear as he viciously continued his onslaught on Ace’s neck, his hands easily pulling at one of his buttons until it gave away with a faint ‘pop’. He would have complained about the damage to his nice dress shirt if Damascus hadn’t been lifting him onto the counter and undoing the belt around his waist.

    Fuck it. He let this man get away with too much, but he was sure that if he didn’t let him have some fun now, then he’d probably pay for it after the meeting was over…. Or even during it, if he was feeling particularly pent up. “Fine, but be quick,” he warned, slipping his pants off and leaning back against the wall of the counter. His hands grasped onto the Demon’s forearms, a smirk playing at his lips as he felt Damascus prod his finger against Ace’s entrance. “Come on now,” Ace hummed approvingly, a low sigh escaping him as he felt the Demon’s digit slide into him at an agonizingly slow pace. The Witch arched his back into the touch, biting onto his wounded lip as one of his hands raised up to message his Familiar’s scalp. “There you go, good boy, work me open.”

    He felt a rumble spreading through his partner’s chest. He wasn’t pushing back as much as he used to, easily allowing the Witch to direct him as he reached down and encouraged the man to spread him open.

    “Thought ya wanted to be quick, Little Boss?”

    “Hm? It’d be faster if we didn’t fuck. Do you want that, Damascus?”

    …

    “Damascus…?” Ace raised an eyebrow, stopping in his movements as he stared up at the man. Red eyes bore through him, a lustful expression on the larger man's face that had the Witch cooing sympathetically. "You don't want to stop. Do you, Damascus?"

"...No, Boss."

"That's what I thought. Now then, are you going to leave me here feeling empty without that good cock of yours?" Damascus paused, keeping eye contact with Ace… before quickly fumbling for his own pants and dropping them to the floor. "Come on, before I change my mind, big guy." The idea of stopping seemed to encourage the Demon, his cock rubbing enthusiastically against his asshole. Every muscle was tensed in the man's arms, allowing Ace to slowly trail his fingertips over olive-colored skin, as if he wasn't dealing with a man that wanted to desperately fuck his brains out.

"Boss—"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, Damascus. Did you want something?" The Demon growled, pressing his cock against him only until the chain appeared in Ace's hands. He tugged, a gentle reminder that kept the Familiar back as Ace waited patiently. "Well? Speak up, I'm starting to get bored."

Worrying away at his lip, Damascus dropped his head down onto the Witch's shoulder as his voice came out strained and tight,"L… lemme fuck ya, Boss. Ya drivin' me nuts over here, just let me pound into ya already."

"Mmm… I don't-"

"Please?" Oh, that was delicious. Ace leaned back, savoring the look on his partner's face before he started spouting off again, "Please, Boss, ya gotta. Let me fuck ya, lemme fill ya up, c'mon, please? Can't think 'bout nothin' else, need to feel ya around me already." A nearly pitiful sigh left Ace as he affectionately held the side of the man's face.

"Alright, big guy. Be a good boy and listen close, and I'll let you cum, okay?" That spark of excitement filled the air, Damascus barely pausing long enough to get a nod of approval from his boss before slowly inching himself inside. A slow burn filled the Witch as he leaned back and enjoyed the feeling of slowly being filled to the brim by the Demon's cock, his hand slowly reaching down and toying with his member as he stared at the desperate expression of his Familiar.

"Such a good boy, Damascus. Just like that, okay? Nice and slow. You can move, make me feel good now. Listen close, or I might have to make you start all over again." At a painfully slow rate, Ace was fucked into the wall behind him. He felt himself being lifted higher, the cabinets above him now pressing into his spine as he watched Damascus whine at the pace he was being forced to move at. Ace simply admired the pink chain in his hand, closing his eyes and taking in the delicious feeling of his cock moving against the inside of him.

"Boss… I'm… I'm being good, ain't I? Let me fuck ya better, let me make ya feel good. I'm being good, so good for ya, ain't I?"

"You are, you are." He absentmindedly stared at the clock. They would have to leave soon, which meant dragging this out much longer wasn't an option. The chain disappeared from Ace's grasp as he pulled Damascus's head in and hummed approvingly. "Okay, big guy. You're being very, very good for me. You want a reward, right?" Aw, he perked up so quickly at the idea.

"Yes- yes, yes, yes, fuck, Boss, yes-!"

"Mmm, alright then. Fill me up, Damascus. I want to be leaking so much with all your cum inside me that you'll smell it the whole time we're outside, okay? You can do that for me, can't you?" The Demon nodded enthusiastically, waiting for Ace to give a small nod of encouragement before yanking him close against his chest and starting to ram up into him. Pleasure shook through Ace's body as he shot a hand down to his cock, furiously stroking away as stars appeared in the corners of his eyes. The Demon slammed into his prostate, thick claws digging into his back as Ace began screaming his praises.

"Oh- Oh, just like that, Damascus! What a good boy, so good for me! So amazing, filling me with your cock, fuck- what a good little toy you are, so sweet as you fuck me like it's your purpose. Is that your purpose? Hmm? Fuck, such a good boy, you love it, don't you? You love fucking me, you l-l-" Ace was cut off as his orgasm slammed into him like a train. It splattered over his hand and between the two men. Damascus groaned in satisfaction, eyes hazy from all the praise as he slammed Ace down into the counter and thrusted into him with wild abandon. Ace's mind was a hazy fog, his voice slurred as he moaned out his praises, "Good boy, good boy, good boy, fill me up, come on now-"

Damascus came hard, Ace's back arching off the counter as he bit into him, warmth spreading through his body. Cum filled him up, leaving him pleasantly stuffed even as he felt the Demon pull out of him and hungrily try to plug him up so nothing escaped aside from a few strings that fell silently onto the floor.

The Witch groaned, closing his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. His hand continued to gently toy with his cock, already feeling himself grow harder with every passing moment.

…

Fuck the meeting.

"Damascus? You've been so good. You deserve a reward, don't you think?" Ace chuckled, lifting his legs against his chest to put his leaking hole on display. "Clean me up so we can go again. Don't waste a drop now…."

[witches-and-devils]

Kinktober Day Seven, Sex Toys

Hey, warning! Smut under here with sex toys, monster fucking, face fucking, and (implied?) orgasm denial. Enjoy!

    It had been a lovely day. Ace had finally managed to clean the entirety of their hideout, did some work on the garden, practiced, and now he was happily drying his hair as he pulled it out of the sink with a low hum. No distractions, no problems that needed to be solved. Just a simple day where he’d been allowed to catch up on all the things he’d been dying to get done. And the best part? The entire time, he’d been playing a little game with Damascus.

    It was simple, really. He’d happened to stop by a sex shop during his last trip into town and picked himself up a few things, and now the pair were wandering about the house as if nothing was going on. Aside from the times that Damascus would activate the vibrator attached to the tip of Ace’s cock. At first, the Demon had wanted to try them out in a more public space, but he’d managed to convince him otherwise with the offer of being able to pin him down to a nearby surface at any point without the worry about getting fucked over by someone spotting them.

    Ace had also picked up a cock ring, which Damascus had been wearing for a while now as he watched the redhead move about his day. The first time he’d turned it on, the Witch had been in the middle of trying to clean one of the windows. He’d nearly fallen over from the sudden burst of pleasure that shot through his hips, only to groan and yell at the man when it ended a few short seconds later.

    That was how it had gone for the majority of the day, but now? Now Ace had nothing to do. Rolling up the gigantic sleeves of the Demon’s shirt he’d chosen to wear so his movements weren’t as restricted in his tight pants, he turned and wandered over to the living room where he had last left his Familiar.

    “Damascus?” The man grunted as Ace rounded the couch, snickering at the sight before him. The larger man was slowly dragging his hand up and down his leaking cock, sweat on the side of his face as he stared up at the redhead. “I’m done,” he hummed quietly, climbing onto the couch only to grasp onto the ring around Damascus’s member and teasingly turning it around. How many times had he removed it just to cum? He was practically purring at the idea of the man red-faced as he imagined pounding away into Ace instead of fucking into his hand just for a little bit of relief. What if-

    With a sudden click from the remote in Damascus’s free hand, the vibrator on Ace was buzzing to life once again. He screamed from the sudden stimulation, falling back against the couch as his hips bucked up into the air. “D-D-!” He felt the large man shift, then the Demon’s cock was down his throat with his hands in that thick red hair as he forced his head back and forth. He wasn’t even speaking, animalistic growls escaping the Familiar as he used Ace’s head like a fleshlight. The Witch’s eyes glazed over, seeing spots in his fuzzy vision as he felt the intensity of the vibrator go up a few notches. The pain on his scalp was only helping him as he gradually leaned into it. His nose was brushing the cock ring before Damascus released with a frustrated groan.

    “Fuck this,” he declared, ripping the ring off as his member leaked precum down onto Ace’s cheek.

    “Oh thank God- Please, Damascus, please-” Now it was the Witch’s turn, wrapping his mouth around Damascus’s cock as he bobbed his head up and down the large shaft. He moaned, his gaze going cross-eyed when he felt a sharp snap in his stomach. He came hard, the entire game of teasing finally ending with one final push. He slipped his mouth off the Demon’s hardened member with a loud ‘pop’, falling back as all of his limbs turned to jello. He laid back against the couch, exhausted as he hungrily watched Damascus stroke his dick until coming onto the redhead’s face with a satisfied roar.

    He’d have to remember to pick up some more toys when he next left.

[witches-and-devils]

Kinktober Day Six, Cockwarming

Hey, warning! Smut under here involving monster fucking, cockwarming, and some dirty talk! Enjoy!

    “So, if we end up taking up the guy who’s paying us to take out this rival don of his, our payout should be pretty substantial, but the other guy is also asking us to take out the other don so I think it’s more of a ‘who we think could be useful for future work’ type of situation. Did you pick up anything during the meeting with them?” Ace questioned, pausing when his only response was a low hum. The Witch was used to the uninterested noises and half-assed remarks from his Familiar, true, but this was getting ridiculous. Looking over his shoulder with a  raised brow, a wry smirk spread across Ace’s face. “Damascus?”     “Mm?”     “You’re not listening to me.” Damascus shifted slightly, causing a shudder to roll up Ace’s spin when he felt the cock inside him brush against his prostate for an achingly brief moment.  He bit down on the inside of his cheek, sighing through his nose in an annoyed huff. The Demon’s face was coated in a faint sheen of sweat, a red tint underneath his eyes as his claws dug into the chair he seemed to adore far too much for Ace’s liking. The complaints would roll in later about the damage to the nice leather seat, but Ace could take a little complaining now that he had this lovely image of Damascus trying his damnedest not to move underneath him.     “Ace-” He cut the poor man off with a ‘tsk’ of his tongue before turning around so he was facing him. He couldn’t help making his movements painfully slow, feeling the dick inside him as he slid around deliciously while a low groan slipped out of both of them. His fingertips trailed along Damascus’s jawline before hooking around the shell of his ear and pinching hard enough that he watched the Demon jump. He doubted it actually hurt, but the sensation was enough to rip Damascus’s gaze off of the spot where they connected to finally focus on Ace’s golden gaze.

    “-Boss,” he corrected quickly, his claws now digging out the stuffing in the arm of his chair as his tail thumped loudly against the wood floor beneath them. “It’s been hours-”

    “And? It’s important that we talk about this stuff as soon as possible, Damascus, you know that. It might be boring, but-”

    “You know what the fuck I’m talking about!” The Demon snapped, his voice cracking near the end and causing him to lean back to observe him for just a moment. Huh. He certainly hadn’t gotten that to happen before. They should do this more often. Still, the arguing wasn’t allowed in this scenario and Damascus knew that when they talked about cockwarming at first. So Ace scoffed at his tone, sitting up just enough for his Familiar to give a moan of relief before slamming back down with enough force that had both of them crying out into the quiet of their home. Damascus broke then, his hands lurching out to hug Ace to his chest so he could start pounding away relentlessly but before he could even try the chain manifested in the Witch’s hands and yanked him back against the chair.

    He roared unhappily, trying to thrust his hips up to continue the small burst of pleasure he’d been torturously allowed. “Fuck- Boss, c’mon!” Damascus whined, his head leaning back against the chair cushion as his hips finally gave up in their attempts.

    “Oh- please-” Ace puffed out as he tried to recollect himself. It’d taken a hell of a lot of willpower to not just let the Demon lose to use him as he pleased. “Don’t… don’t be a big baby, Damascus. You think I’m going to reward you when you’re complaining the whole time?” A quick flick and the chain was gone once Damascus had settled back down to his shaking and quiet groaning. Chuckling, Ace leaned forward with a pleased sigh as his arms hooked around the Demon’s neck. “If it’s any consolation, you’re doing very well.”

    “I… Boss.”     “Hmm?” He smirked, leaning down and lazily nibbling away at the skin along his neck and collarbone. That’s when Damascus’s arms clamped down around him with a sudden, intense force. Ace gasped, eyes widening slightly as he pulled back to look at Damascus who had a relieved but cocky look to him. “You dick-” All he heard was a loud laugh before the Demon was lifting him and pounding away into him with a relentless, desperate speed.

    As much as he wanted to be upset at the sudden end to his torturous game, Ace had a hard time denying the pure satisfaction as he threw his head back and cried out at the nearly painful force behind Damascus’s thrusts. “Dah- Dama-”

    “Shh, there ya go,” the Familiar purred, one of his hands reaching up and fisting into that short red hair. Yanking his head back, Ace gave a yelp of pain as Damascus bit down on his shoulder, breaking through the skin with his shark-like teeth. The pain was enough to cause a dam inside the Witch to snap, his cum splattering across Damascus’s chest which only resulted in a low growl before he shifted his grasp to his hips. “Damn, you must’a been wantin’ this more than I was, Boss, look at ya! All strung out n’ exhausted, ya poor thing. We’re almost done, don’t ya worry.”

    Ace screamed when he felt Damascus slamming into his prostate, the sudden pleasure mixing uncomfortably after his orgasm as his hands clawed and gasped for some sort of purchase on the larger man. Damascus ripped Ace off of him, his own cum staining the nice vest the Witch had been wearing.

    The room was filled with heavy pants as the pair tried to catch their breath. Without really thinking, Ace smacked at Damascus’s shoulder as the big guy laughed at how feeble the attempt was. He slipped out of the man’s lap, looking down at his vest with a small frown. “Well… shit. Dammit all, Damascus, I really like this vest.”

    “Heh, whoops.”

    “Fuck you.”

    “Ya just did.”

    “Ha-ha.” He slowly stood up, groaning as his legs shook underneath him before steading himself on the arm of the ripped-up chair. “Well, I gotta go wash this now.”

    “Wanna go again while ya wait for it to dry?”

    “Obviously. You’re an ass, someone’s gotta punish you for breaking the rules.”

[witches-and-devils]

Kintober Day Five, Breeding

Hey, warning! There's smut here involving breeding, monster fucking, dirty talk, and some degradation. Enjoy!

    Ace hummed as he watched Damascus squirm underneath him, his tongue slowly dragging up along the Demon’s length before reaching the tip and backing out for the fifth time in a row. “Y’know the worse ya tease me, the worse it’ll be when it’s your turn, Boss.”

    “Come on, let me have my fun, hm?” The Witch chuckled, lazily tracing the veins along his Familiar’s dick as he watched him twitch and growl at the sensation.

    “Ace-” He warned, causing the redhead to roll his eyes and sit up with a small grin.

    “Oh fine, I suppose you deserve something for your troubles.” Ace crawled on top of the man, lining up his member against his hole before slowly sinking himself down. A sharp hiss slipped through his clenched teeth while Damascus groaned quietly. No matter how many times he did this, it always burned at first to take in the entirety of the Demon’s cock. Once settled on, he took a moment to try and catch his breath before continuing, only to gasp as Damascus thrusted up without warning. “You-!”  A rich laugh fell from the man’s lips as Ace huffed and slapped a hand against his chest.

    “C’mon, Little Boss.”

    “Damascus, you know I don’t like that nickname.”

    “Gonna do something about it, Little Boss?” Narrowing his eyes, Ace slammed down onto Damascus’s cock, pure pleasure coursing through his system as he did his best to keep his legs steady enough to continue lifting him up and dropping him back down at a breakneck pace. That’s when he felt the man’s large hand grasp onto his dick, roughly stroking Ace’s cock and letting the Witch fuck into it as he moaned. His hands tried to grasp onto Damascus’s chest, settling for his forearm as he jacked him off relentlessly. The mixture of pain and pleasure from riding him and getting stroked was almost enough to short-circuit his brain, his head throwing back as a string of obscenities left his lips.

    “God, fuck yes! Going to milk you dry until you’re begging me to stop- do you like filling me up with your cum? Love it when I use you just to fill nice and thoroughly bred on your fat cock? Fuck, making me feel so nice and full like a good boy-” Ace gasped as he felt Damascus twitching inside of him. It was the telltale sign to pull off, but he wasn’t planning on doing that this time. He sunk down hard, nearly screaming as he felt the Demon finish inside of him. The warmth spread throughout him, his body going rigid before he climaxed on his own from the pure feeling of being so full. Chest heaving and eyes half lidding, he groaned happily as he rocked his hips just a bit more. He wasn’t sure where that came from, but-

    Before he could process what was happening, Ace was being flipped around and caged in by the large man above him. Now that he was focused enough to stare at him, Damascus’s red eyes were hazy with lust as he started to pound away once again with little abandon.

    “D-Damas-”

    “If ya wanted to be bred so fuckin’ bad, Little Boss, ya should’a just said something!” Ace screamed, his hands flying up and digging into Damascus’s shoulders as he felt himself growing hard all over again. “Fucking hell, look at you. What a nice little cock slut for me- you wanna be a nice cum dump? You wanna be filled up again and again until you’re leaking and raw?”

    “Oh, fuck- Damascus- it’s- yes, please- fuck! Yes, I need to be filled, I need to feel you inside me please don’t stop fuck- again and again, please!” Damascus groaned, Ace’s words like music to his ears as he leaned back to watch the redhead claw away at the sheets underneath him and babble nonsense while he pounded into him. His hands kept a bruising grip on his hips, cum leaking out of his asshole before Damascus shoved himself in once again just to make sure his cum got as deep as he could get it. Ace’s legs had been lifted and pressed against his chest, the Demon leaning down to watch with a low pure as he stuffed his cum back inside of the Witch’s twitching hole.

    “Didn’t know ya were into breeding, Little Boss.”

    “I didn’t either,” Ace breathed, gasping when he felt Damascus’s finger plugging up his hole with a pleased moan.

    “Heh, slut.”

    “Fuck off.”

[witches-and-devils]

Addiction, Chapter Fifteen

    Ace should have known something was wrong when he got back and found Damascus drunk on the kitchen floor. But no, he just assumed it was more laziness. What else was he to think? It had become second nature to him by now to just assume that Damascus was going to do whatever the hell he wanted to do when Ace wasn’t around. It didn’t surprise him as much as it pissed him off. The big guy hadn’t even had that much fight in him to really start snarking back when he started lecturing him about how he said he was going to be out inspecting their new surroundings.

    So what if Ace hadn’t wanted him to go out exploring in the first place? He said he was going to, then broke into the basement, made another mess the Witch would have to clean later, then broke a shitload of glass all over the floor he’d just cleaned!

    They hadn’t spoken for the rest of the night. Damascus had just settled into his chair and… drank himself to sleep as far as Ace could tell. So when those thundering steps and that cacophonous knock hit his door at three in the morning, he’d kept a tight hold on his chain. The last thing he needed right now was for Damascus to make another attempt to break their bond.

    Was he finally going to tell him what had gotten into him the other night? Were they finally going to talk about why things had felt so tense and different between them? Probably not. Most likely it was just the big guy complaining about breaking another one of those old beds in the guest wing.

    Still, he couldn’t deny that small bit of hope that was worming its way into Ace’s tired mind as he got up from bed, threw on his clothes, and opened the door just wide enough for his blind eyes to poke out from the crack into the hallway.

    “Some folks wanna meet ya,” Damascus grumbled, that cold look in his eyes just like before. People? Who the hell else would be wandering around out here?

    That mythical monster?

    A client? No, they wouldn’t have been able to track them down this quickly.

    The Church?

    Whoever it was, Damascus clearly wasn’t pleased about it. His large tail was twitching unhappily and he kept scratching underneath his chin, clear signs that he was on the verge of breaking out into a rage or an anxious fit (The fact that both merely resulted in him attacking someone, trying to break his chain, or destroying his surroundings meant there really wasn’t a difference in Ace’s mind.)

    “What do you mean? Who’s here?”

    “Just… it’s easier to explain if ya come down n’see, Little Boss.”

    “Don’t-”     “Yeah, yeah. Look, some folks were living ‘ere ‘fore us. They wanna talk about us stayin’.”

    “When did you-”

    “They’re waiting downstairs.” Ace scoffed, opening his mouth to protest but the big guy was already lumbering away with another bottle held tightly in his grip. What the fuck was going on?

    Shutting his door once again, he walked over to the freshly cleaned vanity table and put on some proper clothes. Whoever it was, they needed to know that Ace wasn’t someone to mess with. Which meant that, despite it being so God damn early in the morning, he had to look presentable and rested. After ensuring that every hair and wrinkle in his clothes was taken care of, the Witch slipped out into the hall and headed for the old wooden door that led out to the staircase in the foyer. He open the door, pausing for a moment when something caught his ear.

    A creak. Murmured voices.

    Ace took a deep breath, feeling his tense shoulders slowly relax before he made his way down the stairs. He heard the humming before anything else. Then he caught sight of… it. A horrible amalgamation of horns, rotting wings, and patches of black and white skin. It sat in front of one of the dirty windows, drawing what looked to be a little stick figure of the old man that stood beside him. As Ace stood there, rooted to the spot, the beast turned around and locked gazes with him.

    “Person!” It yelled, its voice worming into Ace’s brain and carving through it like a hot knife. It seemed to shrink back in fear for a moment, grasping tightly onto the old man’s hand. “Barn- Barn! Stranger- stranger!” Ace had frozen in the doorway, eyes locked onto the beast’s. He felt his stomach drop, his feet seemingly rooted to the ground. Giant, mangled winds hung in the air- long claws gleamed in the light, beautiful patches of skin stitched over the rough and darkened hue beneath-

    I’m serious, be careful!

    Oh, don’t be a big baby, Lionel.

    I am not being a big baby! If Father Zachariah-

    Shh, it’ll be fun.

    Ace’s chest tightened- too hot, too stuffy-

    Holding onto a chain as it cuts into his hands. It’s hurting him, his neck twists at an awkward angle. Kind eyes telling him it would be okay, the fluffy hair he’d braid while studying- burning irons as they clamp around his wrists, knowing they’d flay his skin, watching them begin to cut into his beautiful head as he tries not to scream. Don’t hurt yourself for me- you’ve done the right thing, Lionel-

    The little Witch began to pant, stumbling back like he’d finally ripped free from the cement that had held him there.     “Out.”

    “Are… Barn? Is…”

    “OUT GET OUT GET- GO! WH- I- GO!” Ace screeched, his voice booming as the air around him seemed to pick up speed. His hair floated faintly above his shoulders, his hands fisting over his ears as he tried to steady his breathing. Everything was closing in- it felt like his lungs would burst but no air was held within- he was holding his breath and losing it at the same time- he needed- they needed to go- they needed to go-

    He barely registered Damascus as he stood up, his chair cracking in his wake. He roughly grabbed Ace by the arm, spinning him around to meet his burning gaze. “Little- ACE! Look at me. Look. At. Me. Yeah. The asshole. Me. The guy who’s actually a threat to you. Not the old man and… that guy. Yeah. Fuck them. Look at me. And chill the fuck out.”

    The torrent continued on, wind kicking up whatever dust had been tracked into the house as Ace gave a strangled yelp. Instinctually, his hands clung to the nearest warm body. He was at the house. The new hideout- they weren’t ripping him apart, they weren’t trying to tell Lionel that everything was planned and perfect and-

    “Just leave,” Damascus snapped, barely giving the pair a passing glance as Barnabus grabbed Romaric and slowly guided him out of the building despite his whimpers and quiet questions. Before giving himself a chance to speak, Damascus just-

    He kissed him.

    What else was he supposed to do to calm the man down?

    What was happening? Ace barely registered anything until the Demon pulled away. “Val- Damascus- what the f-f-fuck-” He was still sobbing, his body shaking as he tried to ground himself and where he was.

    He- he needed to calm down. He needed to be okay, everything was spinning and his wrists burned. The redhead was suddenly hovering high enough in the air that he could fist a hand into Damascus’s hair and smash their lips together again.

    It wasn’t gentle, nor was it exactly graceful due to the Witch’s constant shaking and the way his body attempted to suppress his sobs. Ace just needed to calm down. He needed to cling and-

    Valdis trusted him- he trusted him and he believed in him and he knew that Lionel wouldn’t hurt him but then in the end he did- he did hurt him and he killed him. He must have killed him because if he lived? If he lived- he would- nonononono-

⬲⦓⧫⦔⟴

    Damascus met that fury with an equal desperation. It was out of a need. He couldn’t describe it. It was- it was different. He crushed Ace against him. Small. So small. But he was warm. He just- he needed his Little Boss back, that was all.

    But he was so soft. He was so tiny that Damascus’s body could almost envelop him. And so desperate. And Hungry. Was this what the Incubus got from him? Pure desperation- pure hunger? A need for a need. So desperate he’d even touch Damascus.

    His lips barely parted from Ace’s to let him breathe. Then he just crashed into him again. He tested the waters, tried to see how deep he could pull him into this. Pushed and pulled all while Ace seemed to do the same. Little fucking Spitfire. It almost felt like their mouths were battling.

    He liked that.

    Damascus grabbed a handful of that red hair, yanking him deeper and deeper. His teeth tugged at his lips every time they parted, as if trying to pull him closer. The Human’s legs wrapped around his waist as he hoisted him into the air. Damascus moved into the kitchen off to the side and let the redhead rest on top of a nearby counter.

    Then, that same wind picked up fiercely once again. Ace yelped, yanking his head back fast enough that Damascus felt his teeth leave behind a shallow cut on his lower lip. The Witch was back on the ground, his hand pushing forward and sending the Demon reeling back into the doorway of the manor’s busted, old fridge.

    “No!” He screamed, his voice ringing loudly and bouncing throughout the villa with enough force that one of the old and faded paintings fell to the floor with a distant crash. Ace breathed heavily, wind whipping his hair about as Damascus tried to steady himself from the impact. “F-fuck you! You are not pulling that shit on me again!” He snapped, the wind slowly dying down while the same fury hid behind blinded eyes. “I refuse to be manipulated,” he hissed, the same rage in his tone as he’d had at the party so many months ago… before he choked out a loud sob. Ace turned, bolting out of the kitchen and out of sight.

    Damascus panted heavily. His head thunked back against the fridge. His hand rubbed over his lips, where just moments before… soft, desperate lips connected with his. The way the Little Boss just… melted into him. Fucking Hell. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing as he brought his hands down his face in an attempt to sober himself.

    Well. At least he managed to keep a fight from breaking out between him and the old man. He didn’t want to see what that would be like. His anger was deserved, Damascus knew that. He wasn’t that fucking stupid, but… he really hadn’t been thinking. Nothing more than the need to shut him up and then a desperate need for a bit of contact.

    Had it really been so long since he’d touched somebody? Yeah… made sense why he got so lost in it. The Little Boss wasn’t a bad kisser- but it was still Little Boss. The more confusing part was why Damascus hadn’t taken the chance to kill him. It would’ve been perfect, Ace’d been more distracted than he’d seen him in the last eight years together.

    Why hadn’t he…? It was just the kiss. Yeah. And the fact that he still wanted answers from the little shit. That made the most sense. Yeah.

    …

    But fuck if this wasn’t the most confusing boner he’d gotten in a while.

[witches-and-devils]

Kintober Day Four, Breath Play

Hey, warning! Smut underneath containing breath play, degradation, and monster fucking! Enjoy!

    “God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Ace groaned as he yanked on the chain around Damascus’s throat, emphasis for the annoyance that seeped out of his every pore. The only response he got at first was an amused laugh that grated against his eardrums as his knees were pressed harder into his chest. It was one of their long nights that’d been sparked by an argument about the last battle they’d been through. The bickering hardly mattered, both of them could tell that the other was feeling an itch to mash each other’s faces into a pillow.

    “What’s the problem, Little Boss?” The Demon asked teasingly as he pulled all the way out of his entrance before slamming back in hard enough that Ace was launching off the bed was a strangled cry, “We both know ya like gettin’ called names while I rail ya. Can’t tell me you’re gonna fight with me on whether or not I can get ya wailing about being a lil’ cum dump for me here in a couple more rounds.” He had to admit, despite the two constantly fighting for dominance in the bedroom, Ace had maybe… let Damascus win a little easier than he’d planned to. Most of the time he liked watching the Demon succumb to him, it was amazing to watch him go slack-jawed while Ace went to work. Other times, like today?

    Well, he’d never admit it to his face but the behemoth knew the perfect buttons to get Ace mewling and begging for more. Still, he could do without the constant chatter sometimes. Was he still talking?

    “-Or that cute way you still act like you’re in control when I could just as easily-” Damascus slowed to a sudden halt, Ace gasping as he stopped mid-thrust while grabbing onto his thick red hair and yanking his head up high enough to look him in the eye. “Stop.”

    “You- fucker-” Ace tried to claw at the bigger male, his legs hooking around his large form as best as he could when he suddenly slammed up into him again.

    “C’mon, Li-”

    “Just shut up!” Ace complained, snapping his fingers and watching with a sort of sick satisfaction as Damascus suddenly gasped and stopped. He’d quite literally knocked the wind out of him, chuckling quietly as he watched the Demon struggle for air despite the magic cutting off his oxygen supply. Snapping his fingers once again, he fell back against the bed as Damascus released him and tried to catch his breath. “Seriously now, you’re voice is starting to drive me ins-” A large hand wrapped around his throat, instantly cutting off his breathing as Damascus growled above him.

    “Not okay, Little Boss,” he hissed, ruthlessly continuing his pounding as Ace feeble reached up for the hand around his neck, “Gotta warn a guy ‘fore you go doin’ shit like that, don’tcha think?” Ace started to see small black dots in his vision, his face turning a bright red when he felt his cock twitch at the sensation and adrenaline forcing its way through his system. Damascus released him but continued pounding away into his prostate as a pleasant buzzing sensation filled the Witch’s being. “Now then, where was-”

    “Again.”

    …

    Damascus paused, his pace slowing down as a confused look entered his dark eyes. “What?”

    “Do it again- c’mon, before I just l-leave and take care of myself,” Ace demanded, he could already feel the buzz leaving him, his heart rate dropping slightly as he hungrily pushed down on the Demon’s cock to gain some sort of friction in him. The silence dragged on for a moment, Ace finally giving up and about to pop off the Familiar’s dick when that tight grasp suddenly returned around his neck and pinned him down to the sheets underneath him.

    “You can be real fucking sick, huh Little Boss? Like the danger or something? Gotta admit, you’re looking pretty fucked out and pleased with yourself-” That tightness returned once again, and Ace found he really didn’t mind his partner’s constant chatter as his eyesight grew fuzzier with each passing moment. His hand reached down, stroking his own cock as he felt his climax getting closer and closer. Everything seemed to tune out, his entire body shaking only for his orgasm to slam him like a brick wall as Damascus released his throat and he felt the Demon’s cum spilling into his insides with a deliciously warm, full feeling. His own seed coated Damascus’s olive skin as he stared down at the Witch, a large smirk on his face as he flipped the exhausted man over and began stroking his weeping cock despite the whines of protest coming from him.

    “Such a dirty Little Boss today, ain’t ya? C’mon now, let me hear ya beg to come again.”

[witches-and-devils]

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