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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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#extradirty
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@damienstoker
#𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑﹔ a private ⅋ selective original character. 𝐷𝐴𝑀𝐼𝐸𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑌𝐿𝑂𝑅 . 20+ minors ⅋ personal blogs do not interact. possessed by 𝚝𝚘𝚔𝚒. ⁽ she / her , 25 ⁾
⛧ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 : selling your soul , 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 , 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 , 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 , 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. ⅋ 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.
¹ CARRD. ² PINTEREST. ³ DISCOGRAPHY.
well 🧍♀️ as a reminder this blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters but it IS a safe place for women, queers, trans ppl, people of color, undocumented people, and any marginalized group.
@damienstoker sent "was that you singing just now?"
christine's eyes grew wide , shoulders tensing & slowly turning around to face this stranger . why does she always catch herself in these situations ? head always far up in the clouds , mindlessly humming & singing to herself , paying no heed to her surroundings . now she seems to have caught an audience in an empty theatre hall & she shrinks into herself , mouth agape . ❝ um , yes , ❞ she muttered , eyes averting to the ground . ❝ sorry . i didn't think anyone would be here . ❞
The Washington native ventured through the empty rows of seats, signature bass guitar tucked neatly away in it's coffin case. Lured closer by the sound of Christine's angelic voice, Damien regretted ever ushering a word to stop the sweet melody she gifted the world. The spotlights would've provided enough cover for him to not be spotted. With an overwhelming sense of curiosity, he cut her performance short. Big black boots echoed against the stage steps as he approached her. The case was lowered to the grey floor with a soft thud that echoed through the wings.
"𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 is supposed to play later tonight. You're about to be hit with roadies in a few minutes." Damien began, flashing her a soft white smile. "You have one hell of a voice. You normally perform here right?"
The brunette tore his eyes away from the stranger to recall a list of names that are associated with this extravagant opera house. It was rumored that there was a dancer who recently gained a main role in an upcoming show.
This angel of music must be the woman standing in front of him.
"You must be Christine." Damien recalled through his own clouded thoughts.
Seeing thousands of people a night made it difficult for the rocker to remember names. Continuously pumping your body with questionable substances and never ending possessions was bound to take control over his cognitive functions at one point. Damien had hoped that he , at least , got her fist name correct.
A PEAK AT WHAT’S INSIDE THEIR . . .
[ * ] writing prompt ) : send a number 1 - 30 to take a closer look inside this characters life. / below you will find a series of various prompts offering a look inside a characters every day life. these are meant to invoke character development & can also be altered as seen fit to better suit the character in question. bonus if you explain why it’s there!
01. pockets. 02. bag / purse. 03. car trunk. 04. car glovebox. 05. closet. 06. bedside table drawer. 07. medicine cabinet. 08. wallet. 09. “junk” drawer. 10. pantry. 11. phone home screen. 12. frequently used emojis. 13. to do list. 14. computer home screen. 15. bookcase. 16. cd collection. 17. calendar for this month. 18. “secret” hiding spot. 19. five most recent in contact list. 20. refrigerator. 21. home safe. 22. amazon shopping cart. 23. bank account. 24. first aid kit. 25. five most recent in google search history. 26. most used playlist. 27. least used playlist. 28. five most recent sent text messages 29. five most recent received text messages 30. netflix watch history.
GIF MEME: 05.the subject is banged up. John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum (2019)
IT'S DAMIEN'S BIRTHDAY! birthday threads, mayhaps?
ㅤㅤㅤno resistance fronts at 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 , 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬 to move into his arms &. 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 within a few shifts , ashen-smudged eyes flitting closed as relief washes over. ❝ thanks , hon-bun. ❞ 𝘀𝘂𝗲𝗱𝗲-𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗹𝗲 &. 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 ; tongue recaptured by 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. ( TWO POSSESSED SOULS INTERTWINED ! ) an ear gently pressed to his chest ― 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 , timing the beats &. pauses ― 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝘅𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘆 slow to an ease with each pulsation , 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 ; a dance.
ㅤㅤㅤfinally a palm rises up , 𝘳𝘦-𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 , softly placed on his throat ― lingering for only a moment ; concern for 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 briefly 𝘃𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁. ❝ you need 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 breaks. ❞ 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚢𝚛𝚞𝚙 , touch retreating to rest near helmin’s visage , 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻-𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀 absentmindedly 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 ― teeth occasionally 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀. answers still void-hidden , a racing mind seen through grey hues &. a knit brow ; 𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵 , knowing damien would not be the sole one to hear. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.
ㅤㅤㅤ𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀 , tides of emotion swaying to become replaced with 𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙨. ❝ if i tell you … and it gets used against me later ― ❞ the remark falls 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘁 , 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 : 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 , the star would be 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 to forget. ( LACKING THE STOMACH TO SAY IT ALOUD. ) lips purse , opening to talk &. 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 , 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜.
ㅤㅤㅤa sigh rattles from caged lungs , acceptance in the moment found , 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗲𝗱. ❝ i was working at the club , right ? and this guy came in , 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭 … but i recognized him. not me but ― ❞ helmin gestures at their own body , 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥 , flesh &. form not fully theirs. ❝ ― he’s from home. a 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 my dad worked with. ❞ another pause , the very sentiment 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵. ❝ i tried to avoid him but he wanted a private room. requested me , and only me. ❞ features twist in 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 , fingers 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 balling the material of damien’s shirt.
ㅤㅤㅤ❝ i fucking eat creeps for 𝘧𝘶𝘯 and somehow this geriatric freak got to me. ❞ 𝙙𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 at the other , serrated &. sharpened , leaning back into damien’s arms ― face to face. ❝ he recognized me. not ‘liza. me. ❞ ( A COVER BLOWN , THE PREDATOR BECOMING THE PREY. ) fist clenches the fabric tighter , 𝚔𝚗𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍. ❝ he threatened me. ❞
leave it to make a demon to make his cheeks flush with a flattered blush. their fingers upon their skin, caused goosebumps to rise in response. helmin's soft hand that he desperately ached for was suddenly taken away to calm their own internal quarrel.
"don't worry about me right now, okay?" damien requested in a sweet whisper. a soft kiss was placed to their forehead.
"i promise i won't use this against you. you're safe right now. it's just me." he reassured.
unsure of how to comfort an infernal, damien resorted to gently petting the demon's head and keeping quiet as helmin began to speak. letting them adjust in his arms as they saw fit. when their eyes locked, it was that very moment when damien realized how genuine their relationship has been. they have never lied to him and never strung him along the way others do. helmin trusted him the way he trusted her. even in their deeply personal emotional turmoil, damien was certain he wasn't going to be harmed.
"oh man, is it one of those hunter assholes?" he asked with a dramatic eye roll. "i know some of those turds. the worst ones are always the priests. some of them actually do deserve to be eaten."
the musician then paused, eyes now torn away to look at his recording software. he has comforted plenty of crying fans. why was he struggling to find the right solution to this problem?
"let's just kill the guy. i'll come with just in case.then, that loser will leave you alone for good." without another word, he scooped helmin into his arms and carried them through his home. instead of taking them to the front door, he carried them bridal style into his bedroom. gently setting them down upon his soft king sized mattress. "we'll do it first thing in the morning."
the dark sheets were clean. yet, his bed was unkept and the large pillows were on different ends of the bed. warmed up fingers reached for the straps of their heels, taking the blister magnets off for them and setting it aside with care.
"you left your bunny slippers the last time you were here. those shoes can't possibly be comfortable." damien temporarily left their side to go to his large closet to scout for the clean pink slippers. "you may be an a kick ass demon. but, you're not immune to blisters, babe."
with the fluffy slippers hooked between two fingers, the brunette dropped to his knees in front of them. the frontman set the slippers onto the dark hardwood and gazed up towards his situationship. a small smirk crept onto his features.
"kinda funny picturing a priest in a club." damien jested with a soft kiss pressed to helimin's inner knee. "was he a good tipper before he threatened you?"
"First of all, don’t you ever accuse me of having morals, narrative or otherwise, ever again."
❝-— Not even a narrative? Or otherwise? Oh, darling...you ask too much of me. ❞ a hand placed dramatically to his chest.
❝ Look, you can make an argument for the morals but...you're a funky lil' rockstar man with a demon entanglement. I'm afraid you're a bitch with a backstory and with a plot. ❞
the cambions' response generated a rare chuckle from the musician. clark's bluntness provided enough entertainment for damien to return to meet him yet again at some random cafe. the human genuinely enjoyed how the blonde refused to kiss his ass, unlike the groupies and studio execs. hands thrown up in the air, damien shrugged with a sheepish smile.
"you got me." damien then pointed a finger at the other. "no morals, though. that's the key takeaway here."
hands dug deep into his leather jacket pockets, he pulled out a pack of marlboro midnight cigarettes. disregarding the no smoking sign only five feet away, damien lit up his cigarette and leaned back against his chair comfortably after tossing the black lighter and pack onto the table. knees spread open and a cocky smirk plastered on his face, he took a much needed drag. the smoke traveled into the night air, away from his current companion.
"didn't you hear? demon entanglement is so in this season." the six foot one man jested, mocking a valley girl accent.
"it's not too bad, really." he continued, back in his own normal speaking voice. "i just hate it when i get left in the middle of crime scenes. especially in my own home. do you know how hard it is to get blood stains out of certain materials? i can't call a cleaner. so, i gotta get on my knees and scrub that shit away myself. it's annoying. especially when i'm on a deadline to write a new album. i finally accepted the bullshit that comes along with this weird fucking life of mine. all of that led me here to you. isn't that the only thing that should matter?"
Black Sabbath - Heaven And Hell
man, it's almost damien's birthday. this mother fucker HATES it when his birthday gets celebrated. damien does NOT check his social media or phone that day. he won't even perform a show. damien is clocked out with akuji or he's brooding in a forest with a guitar.
ur in her dms im tied to her ritualistic altar we are not the same
@helltoraise
ㅤㅤㅤthe practice was standard ― 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 on damien's abode , a passenger driven by the coaster of emotion. ( BEWARE , 𝙾' 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙱 ! DON'T LET 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙻 IN ! ) presence only announced by the echoing clicks of their heels , senses guiding helmin towards their 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 ; the sound of music twined with his signature scent an 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺-𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭 to follow.
ㅤㅤㅤno regard held , 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 barges into the room ― ignoring damien's workflow &. momentum ― instantly tossing their fur-lined coat &. juicy couture bag aside , 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 ; sore-worthy shoes soon joining the pile before helmin slumps onto the nearest 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 , giving nothing more than a suspire for explanation. blood-lacking , a rarity ― 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬.
ㅤㅤㅤwithered in the fetal position ― 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 , gaze glazed &. focused on 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 ― it takes 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 before the vessel finally speaks. ❝ can you … maybe , like … hold me ? ❞ further silence lingers on helmin's tongue , focus 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙙 to feebly deviate towards him , wine-hued tears threatening to form on a 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 ; eyes shoot to the floor to blink the dew away , a consistent refusal to show emotions in his presence. ( WEAKNESS , THE OMEN CURSE OF REJECTION. PALE , WHITE FALTERING. )
ㅤㅤㅤsofter words cracking &. brittle ― as if choking back an atmosphere of tear-fall. ❝ i get if you're busy. can i , 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 , just lay here ? i don't want to go back to the motel right now. ❞ meaning &. truth hiding deeper , 𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 ; a mask still visible.
@damienstoker | ❤
stoker's recording session came to a screeching end as the studio room door slammed open with unnatural force. the door practically fell apart at the hinges and banged up against the dark painted walls with a booming echo, ruining his current take. defeated, his fingers fell from his fretboard and grabbed onto the neck of his instrument. he watched as helmin collapse onto his red loveseat couch.
something was up. he has never seen helmin like this before and it concerned him. damien was unsure if it was hunger or if something was truly upsetting the powerful being. he awkwardly set his instrument in it's stand and paused the recording software. he then approached helmin without any fear. the musician took a seat beside their demonstration of mysterious sorrow. instinctively, he reached for them. damien pulled them to his chest and cradled their smaller frame against his body. his large arms snaked around the demon's, abiding in their simple request.
damien's throat felt hoarse due to the intensive five hour recording session he was slaving through. he quietly cleared his throat.
"you can stay here." damien replied calmly, his low voice raspy from doing his growls. "what's wrong, baby? talk to me."
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ㅤㅤ❛ ❛ㅤ⸻ have you heard of 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙧 ? do you want to ?ㅤ❜ ❜
does my deteriorating mental state turn you on
