Damien Redmund @lowlyhumandamien - Tumblr Blog

dragon-magnus:

Magnus sighed softly “Nothing got damaged, but those rebels damn well tried it” He said imply, not wanting to get into how he’d had to protect his mate from a gang of rebels that had wanted to steal their egg. “They were soon scared off by my dragon form so all went well in my opinion” He hummed, almost enjoying how the men had ran so scared. “You seemed to make it through alright?” He wondered, draping the towel around himself as he picked up his phone, having left it on a deck chair with his towel.

Damien winced at the thought of Magnus going on the attack. He had never actually seen the dragon’s true form, but he’d seen other dragons, at a distance. He had no desire to see them up close. He preferred Magnus just like this, generally friendly and no oversized deadly teeth and claws. He was sure that whatever rebels had mistaken Magnus’ home for a good target had regretted it immediately. “I’m glad your home wasn’t damaged,” he said, sending Magnus a small smile. “I wasn’t near the fighting,” he answered with a nod. “I was outside when it started, and I couldn’t get back to the Gutter, but I just found somewhere to hide and waited. I... definitely didn’t want to get involved in any of that.”

#magnus

succubus-theodora:

“You’re looking a little green around the gills, Todd” The red head pouted at the human, giving him another random name. Clearly the succubus was so revved up on energy that she had tapped into her more sadistic side over the playful. It was moments like this that people were easily reminded that she was a demon and just where she came from. “Better…” she stated simply when he whispered at her.

After another moment, Damien pushed himself back to his feet and backed away a step. He was trying not to look at the bodies. He couldn’t let himself start thinking about them. Who they were. The lives they’d lived that were cut suddenly, violently short. It would make start thinking about his own friends, all those years ago... and he couldn’t risk letting his mind go to that place right now. He needed to stay present. Keep his wits about him. “Do you need anything, ma’am?” He wanted to run away, but he didn’t want her to think him rude. She might well kill him for it.

#theodora

maeve-douglas:

♆

She could tell he was nervous. “Of course you can. Laundry room is second door on the right upstairs. Master bedroom is to the left. I keep the cleaning stuff in the closet under the stairs. Only down here needs to be mopped. Upstairs is all carpet. And we can skip the kitchen until tomorrow, too.” If this was going to make him feel more comfortable, she would do it. She started to gather what she needed for dinner, deciding on breakfast foods. It was still one of her favorites. Over the next little while she made a small feast-scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, and some cut up fresh fruit. She put everything on serving plates and bowls on the island.

She heard Damien come in and smiled. “Feel free to have as much as you’d like. I figured we could make out plates and then make our way into the living room to eat? Maybe pick out a movie or something to watch?” She hoped the chores had helped, wanting nothing more than him to feel comfortable. “I promise I made too much food but I can get mine first if you want.”

Damien escaped the moment he could, heading to the laundry room. He felt guilty thinking of it that way, because Maeve was clearly taking pains to be kind and patient, and by rights he should be thrilled and want nothing more than to be around her. But it made him nervous. He couldn’t help it. It was just too much. She kept asking for his opinion, like no one had bothered to mention to her that a human’s opinion didn’t matter. It all felt like a trap. Damien was relatively sure, at this point, that it wasn’t a trap, but it still felt like one. He couldn’t seem to turn off the alarm bells in his head. That was why the opportunity to be alone and do something useful felt like such a reprieve. He couldn’t fall into a trap if he was busy getting work done. That was what he was for, after all.

After getting the laundry started, Damien found the cleaning supplies and got to work on the floors, first sweeping and then mopping. By then it was time to change the laundry, and then after that he busied himself doing some dusting, as well. He didn’t want to go too far beyond what he’d been instructed to do, though, for fear he’d cross some line that he couldn’t see. So after he was done dusting, he made his way to the kitchen to check with Maeve, only to find that she’d finished cooking. He returned her smile with a small one of his own, but he stopped a polite distance away. The amount of food on the counter did, in fact, seem like far too much for two people. And it smelled so good. Damien’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t eaten since this morning. Not that that was unusual for him, especially when he was busy, but suddenly he felt ravenous. Still, he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to touch the food before Maeve did, so he was grateful for her suggestion. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind,” he said softly. “Thank you for cooking. It smells wonderful.”

#maeve

mirelavanevv:

“Mirela”, she told him softly. He had been her blood bag for a couple of months, and behaved accordingly besides being too quiet most of times. Many centuries ago, Mirela lived with a court filled with humans, she had to act like then, and understand their feelings in order to make her role believable. She also had to pretend to care about the human emotions around ther, and recognize them. Back the time she had him on her basement, she could see a couple of emotions in him. Loss, grief, fear. She didn’t push him then, as she didn’t have to worry about caring about them anymore. “You may call me Mirela”, she told him, thinking he had earned that right after all. As silence fell in the shop again, Mirela walked towards the counter, eyeing the street discreetly for a moment looking for signs that the rebellion would be over already. She heard him talking again, and got surprised. What a few years in a human life could do to fix a broken human. She chuckled softly. For her, he was still young, but now not as stupid, “It must have been a shock when you realized you weren’t alone in the world. I remember those movies of yours, you thought we were just characters in tales, bedtime stories to scary children. Well, for centuries you humans were the villians in our bedtime stories. But when you showed us as glowing things in that teenager movies, well that was the last straw, and probably the reason why we declared war”, she teased him before looking in his eyes, “Apology accepted, although there was nothing really to be apologized. You were mourning the world as you knew it, but you did got me wondering if I made the right choice to spare you, instead of ending your misery right there with your friends”

Damien looked up, slightly surprised that she would let him use her first name, but he just nodded. He was far more surprised, though, at how understanding and empathetic she was about his past. She had found him with a gun in his hand, fighting her kind, killing them. And yet she still bothered to think about his pain and suffering. Honestly, it only made him feel worse about everything he’d done back then, and more certain that the supernaturals really were superior to humans. “...Thank you,” he said finally. “For sparing me. I wouldn’t have thanked you for it back then, but now... I understand the way the world works better. I’m grateful to still have a place in it. ...I work at the gym, and Lazarus treats me well, and I have friends... I wouldn’t have any of that if you hadn’t decided to keep me.”

#mirela

succubixevie:

Evie let out a pleased hum as the man’s hand moved to her waist and she shifted closer in response, inhaling the desires in his scent and enjoying every second. “Damien.” She echoed, testing his name on her tongue. “It suits you, handsome.” She rose a brow then as he started speaking, tilting her head a bit as she looked up at him with her wide doe-eyes, almost innocent, eager. Finally when he spoke it wasn’t quite what she was expecting, but she’d take it just the same. Evie leaned up on her toes, her lips barely grazing over his before shifting enough to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Your wish is my command, handsome.” She murmured softly, squeezing her hand over his arm again and purposefully sending another wave of longing his way, wanting to make him all the more desperate.

“Let’s go.” She told him, not giving him a moment more to think on it before her hand was moving to his and she tugged at him, leading him to the club her family owned and to her apartment that was upstairs from it, glad that they were home alone as she led him inside.

Somewhere in the back of his head, some small part of Damien rolled his eyes. His wish was definitely not her command. With the succubus focusing her attention and appetite on him, Damien wasn’t capable of desiring anything but what she wanted him to desire. But it was only a small, distant part of him that noticed this, of course. Most of him was preoccupied with the business of desiring everything that he could do with her.

“Do I get to know your name?” he asked as he hurriedly followed her. He barely noticed where they were going, he was too enraptured with her hand holding onto his own. “If you don’t want me to call you miss...” Maybe she wanted mistress instead? Some Superiors preferred that from humans they were playing with or feeding on.

#evie

A little fun for the night

@houndani

Being rented for the night should probably have made Damien nervous, but at this point, it really didn’t. Oh, he’d get nervous if the Superior who’d brought him home started to want anything particularly horrible. But for the most part, Damien had been rented out enough times over the years that he felt like he had a handle on it. He could perform well enough in bed to please them, usually, and if they had kinks, he did his best to accommodate them. He had a good pain tolerance, which usually pleased them. He tried to be enthusiastic, if they wanted him to be, but it was a matter of reading them right more than acting. Some wanted him to be horny and begging for it, and some wanted him to be more reluctant, so they could have the feeling of power over him as he obeyed orders he didn’t enjoy.

At the moment, he had yet to figure out which side his current mistress fell on. The woman who had rented him for the night had taken him back to her apartment in an upscale downtown building. He hadn’t said much to her yet, aside from his name when she’d borrowed him from the gutter. At the moment, as she led him into her apartment, he was trying to go for a mixture of relaxed and appropriately respectful and submissive. Too much caution would turn off anyone of the type who wanted him to enjoy what they did, but too little would likely turn off the other. He took his shoes off next to the door so he didn’t track dirt into the woman’s home, but then waited patiently to be told what she wanted of him.

#ani

sweetxreed:

Taking on some of the other’s weight as he stood, Reed frowned upon fully realizing just how bad his injuries were. “Sorry…” he winced. It was terrible how helpless he felt, how anxious he was wishing he could do more to help–the pit in his stomach seemed to be ever churning these days. Ice. Though of course Reed didn’t have any on hand, he thought he knew where he could find some. “I know where we could find some maybe?” But if they were going to do any sneaking around, he couldn’t have someone hobbling behind him whimpering in pain.

Biting his lip nervously, Reed looked around, checking for any nearby guards or eavesdroppers. “I…have something in my cell that might help?” he stated vaguely. Upon realizing how strange that might have sounded without context, Reed managed a soft chuckle shy of his own. “I mean, I have something for the pain. But um–” Again his eyes flickered around the courtyard. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” They weren’t suppose to have personal things after all and selfishly, Reed wasn’t sure how much he was willing to share. “Can you walk, okay?” He offered his arm if the other needed help.

“No, it’s-” He grimaced again as he moved and his ribs creaked and complained. “It’s okay, I’ve had worse. And I don’t have work again until tomorrow, so unless someone rents me, I can rest. As long as I just go sit somewhere, I should be okay.” He didn’t like the idea of the kid sneaking into somewhere he might get in trouble for. Not for Damien’s sake. The ice comment had mostly been a joke, since he figured there was no way another slave had any.

Damien nodded, pulling away from the other slave’s support so he could walk on his own. “Yeah, I can walk. Doesn’t hurt any worse than just standing or sitting. As long as I don’t twist or anything...” He started walking towards the cells with the kid, and sent him a small smile. “I’ll keep your secrets, don’t worry. We’ve all got things like that. Little stashes we don’t want the guards to know about. I can help you find the good hiding spots, if you want. The key is to spread it around. Don’t keep everything in one place. Even if they find it, you won’t lose everything.” He spoke softly as they went, making sure that none of the guards were anywhere near them. Some of them could hear things from an incredible distance, but with the background noise of other slaves in the courtyard, they should be okay. As they got inside, it got quieter. “I’m Damien, by the way,” he told the other slave.

#reed

maeve-douglas:

♆

“You didn’t argue so don’t be sorry.” Her tone was soft, not wanting to show any force what so ever. “I just wanted to explain my home to you. I want you to be comfortable so if that means I have to explain myself I will. And that goes for anytime, okay? If you have a question or are unsure about something or my motives or whatever, you can ask.” Her smile was soft as she looked at Damien. Some maybe happy seeing humans like this but she didn’t. She knew how awful they could be but they could also be kind. Loving and understanding in a way that constantly surprised Maeve. “Right now what I want is simple enough. How about you get started on laundry and moping and I’ll cook dinner. Then we’ll eat and maybe watch a movie or something if we aren’t too tired?”

It might not seem like it but there were times Maeve felt terribly lonely. She had never claimed a slave and hadn’t had any sort of long term partner since Michael. She had friends and people she cared about, sure. But some nights, like tonight, the thought of being alone made her want to cry. She wouldn’t push Damien to do anything. Not when it was clear he was starting to be a little more relaxed. All she could do is hope that her offer was something he could get behind. She moved over to the fridge, opening it and taking a look at what she had. “I’ve got chicken. I can always do something with that. Or we could do breakfast for dinner. I tend to do that a lot. I think I’ve got stuff for pancakes, too. Or I’m sure I could find a pasta dish or something to make if both of those sound awful.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Damien said mostly automatically, then quickly corrected himself. “Yes, Maeve.” He still felt off kilter and confused, but he wasn’t going to question her. If she wanted to treat him like... well, like a friend... who was he to argue with her?

He wanted to just go get to work, because then he would at least feel useful, but Maeve seemed to want his opinion on what to cook. For a minute, he just watched her helplessly, with no idea what to say. He hadn’t had the luxury of opinions on what he ate in a decade. “...um...” was all he managed at first. “I’m sorry... I don’t... I’d be happy with whatever you want, ma- Maeve. Whatever sounds best to you. ...May I go get started on the laundry?”

#maeve

vinculafidelis:

“No, it’s okay. You’re good, you’re good.” She reassured him with a soft smile, pulling down her shirt and stepping closer to him to avoid the flow of people coming and going, she didn’t want any wayward elbows in her bruises. She honestly felt a little bad, everything had happened so fast that she had barely had time to think about checking in on the people she cared about. She raised an eyebrow, eyes widening in shock. “As in one of the people that broke in? You knew one of them?” She looked around, knowing the walls had eyes and ears and nodded, “Yeah, we can go to one of the spots.” She said quietly, referencing the less monitored nooks and crannies where while they weren’t completely unsupervised, at least they could get some privacy. Holden shook her head dismissively, “Not really, no. It’s all superficial, pesky little bruises. You know ribs can be very loud and dramatic, but nothing’s broken, nothing serious. Just very sore.”

“No, no, not them,” Damien said with a humorless laugh. “I’ll tell you in a minute.” It wasn’t a dangerous secret or anything, it was just, well, private. Damien didn’t talk about his past with hardly anyone. Holden knew some of his history, but even she didn’t know everything. He just didn’t want his business to become Gutter-wide gossip. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, squeezing her shoulder gently. “I’ve got some pain killers in one of my hiding spots... There’s a few left. You should take some. You’ll heal faster if the swelling goes down.” He tipped his head in the direction of one of the quieter spots they favored. “Come on. Let’s go sit down.” He threaded his way through the crowd to a less busy hallway, and then to another wing of the facility. He swung past his cell, checked that no one was watching, and then pulled a little plastic bag from one of his socks. It looked like illegal drugs, hidden like that, but it was just ibuprofen. He palmed two and quickly hid the rest again, then surreptitiously passed them to Holden as they headed towards the out of the way nook where they were unlikely to be disturbed.

#holden

werecatxxphillip:

Phillip glanced at the human, not quite wanting to relive his moments of freedom, considering how he missed it now, but it was still important to be able to relate those in captivity like him. “Yes, a little. I had other things on my mind at the time,” he said softly, knowing he’d been trying to escape and find his family. “I was near it, but I didn’t fight.” He cleared his throat and looked over at the other with concern, “You weren’t injured, were you?” He took a quick glance to ensure no superiors could hear them speaking of the battles. “I know humans are more susceptible to injury.”

Damien looked down, regretting his question. Clearly it brought up some trauma for the man, just like it did for him. “No, I... I wasn’t near the fighting. I... have no interest in fighting anyone, anymore.” He shrugged and mechanically started to sweep up more of the debris. “I wasn’t hurt. Not during the fighting, at least. I got some nasty bruises from the guards at the Gutter, yesterday, just because they’re on edge. But it’s just bruises, I’ll be fine.”

#phillip

familiar-seren:

“Oh yeah, I have to work down at the cafe, some idiot smashes the windows and then trashed the place. So that all needs to be cleaned up before it can reopen. Though it at least beats having to serve idiot customers who don’t know their asses from their elbows when it comes to ordering food” she mused, folding her arms and rocking herself on her feet. “But hey, mind numbing work is mind numbing work right? Are you doing good after everything?”

Despite himself, Damien found himself laughing at Seren’s description of her work. “I can imagine. Cleaning must be a nice change of pace.” He shrugged at her question. “Cleaning is cleaning. Same as what I do when I work at the gym, just... more broken glass to try not to cut myself on.” He sent her a wry smile. “I’m fine. Wasn’t near the.. everything. I got some bruises from some overzealous guards, but nothing bad. You?”

#seren

dragon-magnus:

“Understandable, it’s likely going to be the case for the next couple of weeks. Fitness is going to be the last thing on anyones mind. Especially with the clean up of the city taking priority” The dragon stated, taking the towel with a nod of thanks as he began to dry off his hair.

Damien nodded, looking down. He would be back outside cleaning up the streets again as soon as his shift here at the gym was over. The slaves were being worked to exhaustion trying to get the city back to normal. “Did anything of yours get damaged in the attack, sir?” Damien asked partially because it seemed polite, but partially because Magnus was one of a small number of Superiors that Damien actually sort of liked. They weren’t friends, or anything, but Magnus treated him well at the gym, and never talked to him like he was a dog, or an idiot. Damien considered himself lucky that between Lazarus and Magnus, his time working at the gym was usually pretty pleasant.

#magnus

succubus-theodora:

“Let me tell you one thing, human…” Theodora stated as she pulled away from the now dead rebel, her eyelids fluttering in the calmness that absorbing a soul gave her “I have never been a creature that can be bought with pleading and mercy. If I wanted to, I could play with regardless. That means that I’m never going to ever give you what you want if I don’t want to” The red head simply, dropping the body and then stepping away from it, fluffing her hair casually as if she hadn’t just killed something. “It’s a dog eat dog world.” She stated as she took out a compact miror to check over her make up, giving a playful pucker at her reflection.

Damien felt like he was going to throw up, but he swallowed it down. Something like that was likely to set her off, and he couldn’t risk her turning her desire for carnage on him. He’d been with plenty of sadistic master and mistresses over the years, but right now, in the aftermath of all this fighting, it didn’t seem like she wanted pain. She wanted to kill. “Y-yes, ma’am,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He stayed where he was, on his knees next to the bodies of the rebels she’d killed, not daring to get up.

#theodora

succubixevie:

Evie could taste the arousal coming off him in waves and she already wanted more as she watched him shudder. She glanced down as his arm came forward and then dropped down and she hummed, purposefully taking a little step closer to him as she looked up at him, “Don’t be shy, you can touch me all you like.” she teased, running the pad of her thumb along his lower lip. “And there’s no need to call me Miss, sweetheart. Why don’t we start with you telling me your name and then you can maybe tell me what else you want?”

As soon as he was given permission, Damien let out a breath and reached towards her, putting a hand on her waist. He didn’t do anything else, just left it there, but even just that touch was enough to make him feel less desperate, just a little bit. “Damien,” he said, his voice hushed and a little breathless. “I’m Damien. I... I want to...” He swallowed and tried to get his thoughts in order, but all he could think was how much he wanted her to kiss him. But no, he needed to think, because she was giving him an opportunity to ask for something, and he needed to use it. He knew he would regret it later if he didn’t. “I want to go somewhere,” he whispered, even as his body shifted closer to hers. “With you. Somewhere private.” He knew succubi weren’t shy about sex, but he was always less nervous with no one looking.

#evie

maeve-douglas:

♆

Maeve felt that thing twist inside her again. “You have earned it,” she said softly. She felt like she was talking to a scared puppy. The metaphor seemed very apt at the moment. “You’ve been here for ten years. You’ve survived that long. I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been through but I know how I like people to be treated in my home.” She ducked her own head, looking down at the marble countertop. “Clearly my colleagues that you’ve interacted with do not share my views. I can’t help that. But I can treat you how I want to here and this is what I want.” If she was being honest, maybe the attack wouldn’t have happened if more people did what she was doing.

“I know I’ve given you no real reason to but I hope you can trust me when I say you’re safe here. I will ask you to help me around the house. I won’t lie about that. But you have a right to choose when I give you options. And you’re allowed to say no if something makes you uncomfortable and you don’t want to do it.” She stood back up, a small smile across her face. “I like everything under my roof to be consensual. Or at least agreed upon ahead of time.” She let herself look at Damien then, biting her lip. He really was quite handsome. But clearly this was not the time or place for those thoughts. “So…..what do you think?”

Damien wanted to argue that she couldn’t know what he had or hadn’t earned, or what he had done to deserve this fate in the first place. But he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with a Superior. Especially when he would be arguing against being treated kindly. When she mentioned that she could treat him however she wanted, Damien’s brow furrowed and he ducked his head again. “Of course. I didn’t mean... Of course it’s your decision. I’m sorry for arguing.” He hadn’t really argued, more just hesitated, but it was safer just to apologize. Best not to seem like he thought he could dictate what she did in her own home. Even if her choices didn’t make any kind of sense.

He nodded again as Maeve when over what he could only think of as rules. That, at least, was slightly more familiar territory. Maeve’s rules were generous and asked very little of him, but at least they were clear, which was all he could really ask for. It was always good to have clarification. She seemed sincere about him having options, too, which was a relief. Damien hated mind games far more than any kind of physical torture. He hated being given options and knowing that all of them were traps. Or being asked a question and desperately trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t lead to a punishment. “I think that’s extremely generous of you,” he said softly when asked for his opinion. “And... and that I mean it when I say I’m happy to do whatever you want me to. I.. I am. Really.” He didn’t know how to explain it properly. That was the same thing he usually said when a Superior took him home, that he was happy to do whatever they liked, but at the moment, it wasn’t just a placating show of submission. He really couldn’t imagine Maeve asking for something that he wouldn’t be genuinely happy to give her, right now.

#maeve

werecatxxphillip:

Phillip was sick of all the debris around and sighed softly to himself, trying his best to stay on the lighthearted side of things. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed with the sentiment, throwing another pile into the dumpster and starting again to gather up more refuse. “Sorry to hear we slaves are the ones cleaning it up,” he shrugged his shoulders and got back to work.

Damien looked over at the other slave, and only now noticed the difference in his collar. He wasn’t human. A traitor, then, one of the ones who had helped the humans. Damien always felt especially sympathetic to them. They may have fought against their own people, but it had to sting all the more to be lumped in with the humans. “Were you near the fighting?” He wasn’t sure if the man was newly a slave, or had been here a long time. It was hard to keep track, sometimes.

#phillip

elliottxrhea:

With her own bar needing repairs, Rhea hadn’t ventured out much since the fight (not to mention she’d almost been staked to death, so she’d been in her own recovery). But needing a bit of a break, she headed out for a walk. Looking over at a man picking up glass, she walked over, nodding to his hands, “You should leave the glass to someone a little less human. They probably won’t risk getting their hands sliced open as easily.”

Damien looked back at the woman and then shook his head. “I imagine cleaning up after the rebels is definitely a job for slaves, though, miss. Anyone else shouldn’t have to bother with this.” He carefully swept more of the glass into a bin. “Anyway, I can handle some cuts. And I’ll be careful.”

#elliott

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Damien Redmund