Devil.

[demonguerrero]

Arturo Guerrero ~ Hakan's Christmas Bash

Burning in the lava You can't go and pray this type of pain away

[sybellax]

who: @demonguerrero where: Lupercalia

The Lycans are balancing on beams and her mouth is fixed in a flat line besides twitches of amusement when a wolf wipes out. There are flames of deviance that burn in her eyes and the lines of her body are in line with her feline disposition, a relaxed position and yet poised to attack. "Heard you've been naughty lately." A sly smile to her lips and she's heard of him long before his name passed the lips of her witch -- they work in the same bar and Sybella was good at catching gossip that ran in the Infernal circles.

[demonguerrero]

Violence was in the air, and that was how Arturo preferred things; hellfire and blood coursed through the demon's veins, and it was easy to get drawn in. The archfiends brought out the worst in a person, a tall order for someone like him. "Just lately?" Arturo asked as he quirked a brow at his coworker and fellow demon, Rowan was free real estate as far as Arturo knew, not that he'd care either way. "I heard you have like fifty kids or something."

[hoperesideswithinthismess]

[demonguerrero]

@rowanivar location: Lupercalia notes: Alexa play You Oughta Know by Alanis Morisette

They'd done the number thing, the place of business thing, but nothing had come of that. Rowan's face had cropped up a few times at Flirt, and Arturo was too petty to acknowledge him. They'd had their fun, but that was as far as that needed to extend because, as far as Arturo was concerned, the artist's uses could be counted on one hand, and he'd already exhausted two of them. This city of lycans and debauchery was violence incarnate, the demon's playground and kind of the perfect place to satiate his darker appetites. Blood, mayhem, and suffering: this was the soundtrack to his life.

"Your date throws like a priss." Arturo criticized after the twink Rowan was with left the hoop toss to fuck off or go to the bathroom or something. Not that the demon had been watching; Arturo had never claimed to not be possessive; he didn't care who Rowan saw, what he did, or who he slept with. That didn't matter to him because whoever those people were would end up in so much pain they'd wish they were dead. Intense? Maybe, but Arturo preferred fun. "What Sunday brunch spat him out?"

[demonguerrero]

@fxllenpythia location: dealer's choice notes: mother, I crave violence

"Avery's all twisted into knots, he feels like Dad won't let him sit at the big kid table." Annoying, but at least the witch had gotten him out of the pit once upon a time; it helped that Avery was so predisposed towards violence, the way he'd stomped Nathan's gray matter into the concrete after absolutely butchering Abel was still something that tickled Arturo pink. "Or maybe I'm just projecting." Even before he'd known about angels and demons Arturo had worshipped at the altar of violence, he'd burned bright, died young, and gladly indulged in what Pythia's Abyss would allow. Demon. Fiend. Devil, whatever people wanted to call him he never felt better than he did now.

[rowanivar]

Post orgasmic haze has him groggy, watching intently as the surface of Arturo's tongue seemed hellbent in memorizing each knuckle of his fingers. His own lips are parted just slightly in a bit of a dumbfounded 'o' shape. At least until the post nut clarity kicked in something fierce because just as quickly as he'd been pulled closer, he was being pushed away. Shoved more like it and the pet name is spoken with venom fitting the scorpion tattooed on Arturo's hand. The wave of rejection that gets to him is drowned out by action, Rowan's shoving his dick back in his pants and sliding his belt back through his belt loops. He's not going to be able to look at the leather ever again without getting a raging hard on, that was for certain. He doesn't bother doing up his shirt, he's too busy fishing his wallet from his back pocket and fumbling to get out one of his business cards. He doesn't give him the one that has the shop number, between the tattooed index and middle finger of his right hand, he holds out the card with his personal number on it. It's something he'll hand off to client's he thinks will wind up recurring, people he wants to work with again. Rowan doesn't think he's ever had so much riding on somebody picking up the nice little square of thick cardstock. "In case you want to touch up your hand." It's still a bit rushed to be casual, but he's also still boneless.

[demonguerrero]

"You're giving me your card?" Arturo quirked a very pointed brow at the witch as he snatched it quickly from between Rowan's fingers. He turned it over and looked a the back, but despite himself the demon tucked it quickly into his pocket. "My hand's fine." It's not a no to using the number, but the thought of sitting still while Rowan dragged ink across the fascia was oddly intimate sounding. There were a couple questions that burned at the back of Arturo's mind that he wanted to ask, idle curiosities about why ink was such a big deal to him because if Rowan's body was any indication that was clearly the case. Arturo also wanted to ask what the witch thought might happen here because the demon thought that everything about him was painfully clear and to the point.

Rowan had threaded his belt back through the loops, buckle undone and shirt still disheveled as he hung open in front of him. Arturo took hold of the belt as he looked nearly level into the other's eyes, pulled it maybe a notch tighter than was necessary before he slipped the strap neatly through the loop again. "My witch is with the Dahlia coven, Avery." A small concession if Arturo didn't end up calling Rowan, the witch could always come looking for him. Nimble fingers slipped a few buttons closed but ended a fasten above where Rowan had started when they'd stumbled down here. "I know where you work, you know where I work. Now you know where I live." Another concession. Arturo shoved Rowan's chest again, this time with the tips of his fingers, lighter, and intentionally playful. "Merry Christmas, now, I'm getting back to the party."

[rowanivar]

It's been something he's been thinking about for days, the fact that he hadn't really had anything to do with the way Arturo's frame had shivered as he'd jerked off with Rowan's cock in his mouth. Had it been incredibly hot? Absolutely, but it didn't feel at all polite after the demon had practically sucked the soul out of him. There's nothing to muffle the noise this time as Arturo comes undone as he's mid thrust over his hand and it sounds so wrecked that he can't help but groan in response. "That's it." It's kind of praise but he doesn't care if he gets any lip back for it, his pace falters for just a second as he focuses on stroking Arturo through his orgasm. He can feel the backs of the demon's thighs tremble as his muscles clench around him and he's fully prepared to do just as instructed as he lets out a string of curses. His hands abandon their previous missions in favor of gripping tight at the demon's hips, thrusts rough, practically erratic. It doesn't take much, when he finally tips over the edge they're flush together, his lips at the back of a neck covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He forgets the praise thing again as he rides out his own orgasm, can't help but mumble soft nothings that he's going to regret in .2 seconds as he takes a second to just breathe, lips against heated skin. Rowan's still got a decent buzz going, the music upstairs almost seems to kind of fade back into the moment as he presses a quick kiss to just below the previous bite in apology. Once again rendered boneless, he's quick to straighten up just to undo his belt from around Arturo's wrists, fingers sliding over indented skin. "Still with me, sweetheart?" He's got no business being cocky as he draws his hips back enough to pull out of the vice that is the other man's body.

[demonguerrero]

Even in life, Arturo had difficulty remembering anyone's touch by being gentle. It wasn't like Arturo hadn't earned his contempt, even as a kid he'd been something of a bad seed. An orphan abandoned on the steps of a home that came to see him as a curse. So Rowan's warm lips against his skin felt like a curse, and his calloused hands smoothing over Arturo's wrists stung worse than any slap. Arturo couldn't fault the witch for being affectionate, and how it felt was... It didn't matter. The demon's brow furrowed with some contempt instead as he gravitated more naturally towards violence than whatever post-orgasmic haze was drifting over the witch's senses.

Arturo pulled the other's hand towards his lips as the flat of his tongue rang along the length of Rowan's fingers. The demon could taste himself, and as he pulled one finger after the other into his mouth, he abandoned them before he twisted in an action that was more elbows and shoving than a sweet disentanglement. Arturo pressed his lips against Rowan's and practically spat himself back into the witch's mouth b before he pushed the other back. "I'm not your sweetheart." At all times, the demon existed in the realm of furrowed brows and apparent contempt; the only person that mattered to him hardly mattered at all, Rowan was just some guy that fucked him, and they both needed to remember that. Arturo's pants were already up again, his leaking cock zipped and buckled from view. "Now put your fucking dick away."

[rowanivar]

Valentine's Day Scrapbook (Digital Edition): Arturo & Rowan

"I said hey, Jackie, baby When you rest your mind do you think of me?" - "Jackie", Yves Tumor @demonguerrero

[averykentx]

"Rumor has it that you have to be in good standing with Oztalun to practice Necromancy, I barely know the guy which could go both ways so want to find a grave somewhere and see what the Ol'Dragon thinks of me?" It would be sad if it was a flop but there was a certain kitchen witches mother who was always kind to him, he would love to see what she could do if she desired to eat hearts and livers instead. Turn Dahlia on its head and give Marco a gift for helping him pay the rent.

[demonguerrero]

"Who wouldn't love you?" Grave digging? Avery always knew just how to get Arturo going. "But you know I wouldn't have it any other way." stepped forward and resisted the urge to plant one on Avery right then and there. "I'll even do the digging; all you have to do is stand there, look pretty, and get ready to kill something." Arturo loved to watch, Avery was an artist when it came to violence, as long as the witch didn't start murdering people without him the two would always be in good standing.

[rowanivar]

Rowan's brows furrow before his eyes narrow and determined, his teeth sink into the demon's skin. There's nothing gentle about it, it's not a hickey, it's a bite and it muffles a groan as he keeps bringing Arturo's hips back to meet him. Straightening up, one hand still tight in dark hair, his nails biting into his scalp just a bit. He's totally fucking him to the beat of the music upstairs, the bass practically permeating through the stone of the....literal dungeon. He wants to point out that he does kind of think this does have something to do with him if this was happening not once, but twice. One blowjob in an alley was a happy coincidence, hooking up again was on purpose. The sentiment isn't voiced out loud, he's too lost in the hot, tight heat of Arturo's body. His hand leaves where it's curled around a sharp hip to grip the base of the demon's cock and offering a light squeeze before he's stroking him in time with harsh thrusts. "Sure." It's cocky, casual as the sound of skin slapping against skin and the chaise scraping across the floor add to all the noise above them. He's not going to last this long like this, heat's already pooling in his gut as he pounds away at the demon.

[demonguerrero]

Rowan's grip turned possessive, the witch showed his teeth, and Arturo filed negging under the list of things that seemed to incentivize Rowan. Next time, they wouldn't have to work so hard to get here; the sharp draw of the witch's teeth, the wrench of the other's curled fingers at the roots of Arturo's scalp, it was good. better than good, Rowan was almost perfect.

"Fuck." Arturo's hiss was scarcely human; the sharp intake of air that passed through his lips and over his teeth shot down the back of his dry throat. Every movement brought Rowan back inside of him and Arturo's cock back across the rough, calloused grip of the man at his back. He wouldn't give the other anything except his orgasm; if the witch wanted validation, then he would have to keep reading between the lines because it wasn't long after Rowan started actually touching him that Arturo came undone. Warm ribbons of cum spilled across the witch's hand, fell across the chaise lounge, and dribbled down the demon's muscular thighs as his body tensed and bore down further around Rowan's cock. "Fuck that's good." Arturo's leg twitched as he felt a spasm ripple up the length of his body; his back followed as he felt the warm, ichorous feel of blood dribbling down from the place where Rowan had just sunk his teeth. "Cum inside of me."

[rowanivar]

It feels right in the moment to draw his hand back and lay a quick slap to the right cheek of the demon's ass before he's gripping at it as he pulls out maybe halfway. He doesn't keep him waiting beyond that because one) he really has been thinking of this for a whole week and two) he doesn't entirely think Arturo is kidding around. The pace he sets is rough, one hand still pulling at dark hair as he can't help but watch himself slide in and out of the demon. "You feel so fucking good." It's almost hazy, breath coming in light pants, he's so caught up in it that he momentarily forgets that praise isn't entirely a big part of these encounters but figures its less praise and more of an ego stroke. He leans down over an arched back just to have teeth scrape the skin of the other man's shoulder. "This is the part you like isn't it? Being used." As if for emphasis, his free hand clutches tight at a sharp hip and practically fucks Arturo back on his cock.

[demonguerrero]

"I've heard." The demon bore down on the witch, his natural physiology kept the other's cock in a vice grip as Rowan pounded his way inside of him. Like being split in two, his fingers curled tighter against the confines of the leather belt; the hiss that left the back of his throat was let out through grit teeth as he rutted his aching cock against the back of the chaise. "It's part of it," Arturo said as he strained his neck again to look over his shoulder at the witch railing him from the back. "Just as long as you remember, this has nothing to do with you." Rowan pulled him back, and he groaned as the witch fucked the demon back onto his dick. It wasn't honest because it Arturo couldn't do this to himself, but even though Rowan could be anybody, the witch wasn't allowed to have anyone else. At least not without pissing Arturo off.

[bemybaebaebae]

Diego Tinoco

[emissaryalder]

^*^

“Yeah you’re right. I’m just an okay guy, not particularly good at all. I’ll toss a buck to a panhandler but sometimes I don’t wash my hands after I pee.” Alder even gives the demon a slant of his mouth and a gentle shrug. An odd response, but the unassuming weirdo was a much easier role to play than crazed heretic witch. He did worry a bit though. It seemed Alder’s inclinations lined up with the demon in front of him more than he wanted others to know. “Blood is so intimate, I would never take it without permission,” he lies again, this time with an obvious chuckle. “But with so many people getting into the spirit of the night, maybe you have a point. There’s so much flowing freely that me sneaking a few ounces out shouldn’t be a problem. Besides, most is going to end up nourishing some vampire or staining your clothes. You and I could have a little fun with it.”

[demonguerrero]

Definitely an oddball. This kid was a weirdo, and despite the number of times Arturo had laid a tarp down in some asshole's basement, there was something so off-putting about someone who said pee instead of piss. "That before or after you toss the buck?" Strange as the witch was, Avery was a bit of a nut, too, so Arturo was more or less used to it. At least now Alder had started to speak the demon's language. Violent and bloody fun. That was what he wanted to hear. "Now you have my attention," he stepped in, eyes lit with a dark intensity characteristic of the violent menace. "what'd you have in mind?"

[averykentx]

Avery had awoken in the middle of the night to a burning sensation, not of that nature but his Asphodel tattoo carried the feeling of being alit with flame, it was as if hot coals had been pressed to his skin and it spoke of a different power than they were use to revering. He donned his Asphodel embezzled sweatpants and purple hood and listened to the siren call that led him to the Cave of Dis. "The entire coven has became thralls to the Necronomicon." He's careful not to share any further opinion even with the one he trusted the most, violence of a knife could often be turned on the person who wield it. "Oztalun had returned in the Cave of Dis but he's different than legend tells, there's a darker magic there and I feel as if there's still more to come." Arturo was always helpful at weaving into the secret of things, with their two dark minds together they were sure to come closer to the truth.

[demonguerrero]

Oztalun, the dragon. That explained what Arturo and likely every other demon in this city felt. The Inferno was gone; there'd always been whispers in the pit about creatures that crept up from someplace below, even Lucifer's frozen holding. Still, in the grand scheme of things, the demon was young, young but driven. Avery had signed his name in the book and committed his soul to it; whatever power was behind it would always hold it in his hands. "What about your necromancy? Is it back?"

[rowanivar]

Skin flush to skin, Rowan's hands find the demon's hips and offer a slight squeeze as he lets out a string of breathless curses. Because it's good, it's really good, Arturo is hot and tight and insistent. For a moment he forgets that this is supposed to be something quick, that the other isn't too interested in any kind of praise. "Give me a second just to look at you." It's a breathy mumble as his right hand leaves a hip in favor of tracing along the demon's spine, his own hips thrusting shallowly. He can feel the way Arturo arches under his hand this way and his fingers slide from spine, along the back of a bowed neck to card through dark hair and then he's pulling. "You gotta ask nicer than that." He doesn't really, there was no way in hell Rowan wasn't going to comply, but his tone is playfully assertive anyways. "I know you can." Tugging at dark hair, he leans down over the demon's back, less thrusting and more grinding into him as his lips brush the top of his spine. That needy noise that'd fallen from Arturo's lips had him determined to hear more.

[demonguerrero]

Rowans' fingers slid along the curve of Arturo's spine and he could feel the fine hairs across the muscular plains of his back standing on end at the gentle, appreciative nature of the touch. The curve of his ass pressed against Rowan's hips, the other's subtle movements, it was all enough to drive him insane. Frustrated would have put it mildly; what Arturo felt was far more visceral and demanding. "Fuck me or get out, and I'll find someone else to do it," Arturo said, his grin glinting in the dark, proving that through it all, there was only a track of humor in the downright malicious cant of his brow. "How's that for asking nicely?" The violent little creature wasn't about to beg, not for this or anything, but he had managed to muster the closest thing to platitudes that Arturo could conjure. Rowan's cock was all that was going through the demon's mind at present; they could've been anywhere, in any position, doing just about anything, and Arturo's mind still would have been emptied of just about everything else.

[rowanivar]

All the hip movement has Rowan sucking a breath in through his teeth, rocking forward with a shallow thrust against supple skin. Drawing his hand back again, he strikes the same spot just as hard and the sound is so satisfying he wouldn't mind spending more time with it. But he can't say he's not eager himself and he'll be dammed if he's going to let Arturo get at him for keeping things too slow again. Tattooed fingers smooth over the red print of his hand before he's palming the cheek, kneading into it as he pulls it to the side just slightly. Taking just enough of a step back, he spits on the exposed hole, heart beating too fast in his chest at the mere sight. His eyes roam the demon's back, can see the way tension defines muscle and maybe they'd get a chance to do this somewhere far less public one day. "Sure." There's a playful roll of his eyes, his free hand at on his cock, tip pressed to a spit slick hole and it's less teasing as he presses forward just a little and more asking for permission.

[demonguerrero]

The splitting burn was immediate, Rowan's girl pushed at him as Arturo sucked in a breath through grit teeth. His eyes wrenched closed as his fingers curled through over the short fabric of the chaise. Rowan moved agonizingly slow as he gradually slid deeper and deeper. Arturo's body protested, but the guttural moan that was pulled from the violent creature's depths told a vastly different story. It hurt because, of course, it did, because he'd had mild preparation, and they were using spit for lube, but that was what Arturo enjoyed most. Arturo's body responded naturally, he pushed back against Rowan as the scorpion's back arched and bent. His bound hands pressed against the chaise as he rutted his hard cock against the back of the plunge, desperate for friction as his body moved almost needily against Rowan's. There was a part of him that was desperate for more contact, to be bound, to be held, to be fucked, but all that fell from Arturo's lips was a low moan. "Yeah," Arturo said complicity, "fuck me hard." It was needier than Arturo liked to sound, but he was a sensory creature and the press of the other's skin against his own was stimulating. This was why he liked to be tied, to be bound, it was a different kind of hold that was the absence of intimacy.

[emissaryalder]

^*^

Alder had never really thought much about entering a contract with a demon. It never really seemed like his style. But just a few choice words from this one had him reconsidering. Were they all so agreeable? "Yeah, something like that. I'm a good guy at heart," he lies, knowing full and well that he places no stock in good or evil. All's well that's well for me he'd like to say, but Alder instead makes an attempt to keep his truth in check. Still, the hint of a smile and that hungry glint in his eye were difficult to mask. "Maybe I am boring, I do spend a lot of my alone time reading. I've just never been the type to hurt someone for the heck of it." Pain was a byproduct, not a goal, something he could overlook and never feel remorse about because why would he? People don't think twice about stepping on ants and most other life held about the exact same significance to Alder, if not less. Though learning to harness pain as a source would certainly be a worthwhile endeavor... "Take it easy, I'm still pretty green. I only met my first vampire tonight. If you're offering to help me take home a big haul then by all means, teach me your ways oh wise one. But believe me when I say I could see myself wanting and taking more than blood from the partygoers. Even you."

[demonguerrero]

"Guys that call themselves good guys are the worst kinds of guys; if you're going to lie, try something more convincing." Arturo quipped playfully; though everything about this witch screamed socially inept, the violent creature played it off like he was just giving him some helpful advice. Avery had a similar front; he smiled for the Dahlia coven, and he pretended to play by their rules; then, when it suited him, he stomped heads into the ground and felt vindicated doing so. What a man. "Relax, that was me taking it easy." Everyone was always so sensitive, was it really Arturo's fault that he just thought people's insides looked better on their outsides? Unlikely, well, potentially. "Blood's common, easy. A catalyst, an amplifier, a tether. If you want to take anything of real value from someone, it's a good place to start."