I'm 33. Friendly, & open-minded but I do not want to be your best friend or your therapist. (I'm timid.)
Damien's age is canon to the real man (36). Therefore, for romantic intentions, the character needs to be 30+.
Reblog from the source, unless you're tagged in it or it's a dead link. (no source to reblog from) or I'll know you didn't read my rules.
Feel welcome to hit up my dash commentary. They are simple 1-3 liners for people to take wherever they want.
I LOVE when people chat in tags, please feel welcome! I read them but I am very 'neat and tidy' with my tag system, so I won't do it back.
Highly selective due to subject matter. Mutuals only. I look for a rules page & a character page with limited ooc chatter. If you are missing either of the two, or you treat tumblr like Twitter, I won't follow, but feel welcome to stick around if you like the portrayal!
Give me a week before you unfollow. My rl is busy, and the blog is medium activity.
Gay character, but we love to engage women. No misogyny here.
Demisexual pride represent. Building/bonding with someone's character to establish a kindling of sexual attraction is required. It also ties into Damien's trauma and trust issues. To be clear, this blog is not about sex. Sex happens because that is apart of life, but it will not be the main focus. No smut fishing. Erotica will also, be written with as much realism as possible, even within his monster verse. He is not written to fulfil the fantasies of other writers, unless I take the initiative w/ your starter.
Not affiliated with KRP or RPF (real person fiction) period. This is a fully OC character.
Don't wanna write anymore? Just unfollow me. I'll see that we aren't mutuals and remove myself. Soft blocks preferred if you're impatient. I do not chase people down to play pretend.
Damien will exhibit unhealthy behaviours. Muse does not equal mun.
Real faces only. I don't write with ai, written or animated fcs. I'm also not duplicate friendly. Exclusive with @knot-ee (Kim Hongjin) "Horangi", @malka-lisitsa/voros-kiralyno (Nina Dobrev), @ang3lmoans (Harry Styles).
Damien's senior miniature pinscher is his emotional support. She's 9/10 years old and is turning grey. She has some basic training, but is not registered. Her most notable is alerting when he's about to have a panic attack, and weight distribution. Yes, she's very tiny and this does very little, but in doing so, makes her close enough for Damien to hug her. She's found in both his main, and monster verse. She goes everywhere with him. She is his most treasured possession, and half the reason he works so hard to make music and bring in money is to feed his best friend Lori.
A minor differences.
In his monster verse because he is kidnapped on a monthly basis, it is his sole responsibility to be in a place where he can reach a friend, someone he trusts to watch his dog for a week. When he is taken by the society, Lori cannot go. Even if she could she'd be in danger.
He's said before on live Instagram, 'she's the only one who truly understands me, and I don't know what I'll do without her.'
This wasn't a scene involving a villain's monologue-- Horangi wasn't going to lay out all the information just because he was asked. And collecting Damien wasn't his plan; orders had been handed down to him. Horangi wasn't the big, bad villain, only the cog in the wheel of evil. What was worse? It didn't weigh on his mind but he wasn't as heartless as other KorTac agents. He did feel a sting of sympathy watching the kid slowly unravel. The kid tried his best not to let it show but it was as obvious as a bird hobbling around with an injured wing. He should probably get some water and food, but the injured captive might throw it all up if panic truly set in. Kim's eyebrows bunched together at the word kidnap like he was disgusted by the accusation when in reality it was a weird word. One of the worst words in English that him took way longer than necessary for him to understand. Kidnapping as ugly as the word, didn't quite describe the predicament Damien found himself in. Under the law Kim supposed it would be described such.
“ well you didn't come willingly.... ”
Although Damien didn't say no. He just passed out. He could've bled out if it wasn't for Horangi so it was a curse and a blessing all in one. Horangi shifted his weight on both feet as he still looked at his victim with calm eyes. Not the eyes of a man who tortured people. His look hovered above indifference. Head then cocked to the side and eyes wandered around his skull in thought just for a few seconds.
“ No, no phone. Even if you had one I wouldn't give it to you. Anymore questions? I have one. Seems fair, right? How did you get hurt? ”
It wasn't protocol but Kim wasn't bound to some strict rules as long as the operative was taken into custody, kept alive, and prevented from escaping. All the boxes were checked off and he just wanted to put his curiosity to rest. He even went as far as backing away from the cell to lean against the farthest wall; getting comfortable as possible all things considered.
It's subconscious, the stranger's calm kept Damien calm.. somewhat. The blanket is still clutched toward the body as a means to self soothe, but shiver he did, no matter what was done with the blanket. Odd eyes did return to his only company, and seeing how his options were them, or nothing, he sits there, listening.
“ well you didn't come willingly.... ”
Damien's own brows furrowed at that comment. "Didn't know you were there to collect me." The tone held mild agitation, yet there is no showing of any real hostility. While the IV was giving nutrients and fluids, it wasn't going to replace genuine rest.
Stating that his phone wasn't found had Damien in disbelief. A menacing gaze lingered on the unknown solider for a solid minute, .. but it changed nothing. Eventually a soft exhale through the nose gave way to subtle disengagement while breaking the strong eye contact to instead glance off around the cell at nothing in particular.
How did he get hurt? Was this a test? Even if it had been, it was one hell of a loaded question. The society put Damien through all kinds of tests, mental and physical, although the physical aspect was clearly far more abused, at least by what could be observed.
After a long silence, Damien looked at the solider one more time. Uncertainty in the right eye, sizing them up. Then, the same purplish black forked tongue slid passed his tiers. It seemed to be a little longer as it's stretched to try and reach to smell. Length was approximate to a middle finger, but it was hard to tell without risking danger. "Can you come a little closer? I can't identify you." Taste and smell receptors were just fine, but he needed more identifying markers.
It wouldn't have been any different had he simply rose from the bed, walked over and physically licked the skin. From their first encounter, nothing about the society lingered on their person, but his mind was far too hazy to trust his own judgement. But, would his request be honoured?
If there's refusal..
An exasperated noise airs; "You don't need to stand next to me, just come three feet. I still can't reach. I need to know this isn't one of your fucking tests. I don't want another beating if I'm wrong."
If there's acceptance..
Damien would flick the tongue out yet again with the gap closed a little more. Once, twice, thrice. The visage shifts a little bit, he's thinking about it. An expression akin to someone trying new food, or determining on if they like the taste of something. 30 seconds goes by. "Yeah.. alright." For whatever reason, the solider had a taste best described as the smell of car oil, but it had sweet and musky notes with a hint of salt to it.
Damien took more time to just sit there, unsure what to share, or maybe it was figuring where to start. "I'm gonna need my phone. If I can't be reached, they will kill me." The mouth was dry, addiction spurring him for the familiar embrace of nicotine. "You got any smokes on you?" The request is abrupt. "..It's a long story."
Damien was on his usual evening run per his daily routine. Running down a sidewalk he'd been a few times since he's came to the neighbourhood, his frame flies passed the store front's large windows. Naught but a blur, he's just another shirtless runner going by.
30 seconds later.
The same frame jogs back at a much slower speed and then stops all together. Lifting the wrist, the smart watch is paused, and then pops his head into the front door, the bell ringing as he looks in, trying to see if anyone was manning the front or if he'd have to walk all the way in. "Hey, how long are you guys open?" Wheatus' Teenage Dirtbag is playing overhead.
open to: bottoms/subs, m/f/nb+anythn
muse: ezra starling
portrayed by: penn badgley
plot: ezra has been blackmailing y/m, forcing them into a relationship with him. y/m could be a student, another teacher, or someone else entirely - whatever works. but pre-established. a market has come to town, and he's captured sight of them wandering around the stalls, separate to those they came with. he brushes by, grabs their wrist, and pulls them to a nearby alley. deep enough to have some privacy, but not so deep that they are completely hidden from the passing crowds.
mention what ezra has on y/m please in regard to blackmail material.
potential kinks: check out his kink page!
read my rules before interacting!
@indiestarter <3
unsuspecting and out in public. just what ezra wanted to see today. he has some frustrations he needs to take out on someone, and oh, had he just been thinking about them. now they're in the alley, he pushes them to the wall, a firm grip on their hips, as he leans in to capture their ear between his teeth.
"hello. have you been good for me?" he reaches to find out; their underwear should be non-existent on them, even when they aren't together.
Damien had been visiting the markets a bit later in the evening rather than during the day. Crowds were overwhelming. One would think he'd be happy to come during day hours to socialise and make connections to further his online influence as a van lifer, and guitar player. However, his battery was low, low enough he didn't want too much, but enough to force himself out of his van and out of isolation. He promised some friends he'd show, and he did, he just needed to reach out to say he'd arrived. The thought comes and goes. Focus is on just getting out.
For this mental health. Standing at 5'9 or 175 cm, a broad upper back and tattooed arms gave him away from any angle. Blissfully unawares that Ezra was in the area, or possibly even following him, he's located at a stand trying durian. Eventually, he thanks the people running it for their time, before he feels himself being pulled away.
Still reeling from the experience, Damien takes a moment to process who had taken hold of him. It wasn't his friends, he hadn't texted them yet. It was Ezra. All it took was a split second to be pulled down an alley way, and even if he struggled, the man had the upper hand. The sanitary plastic gloves he'd donned to eat the durian hadn't yet been discarded, and it lacks any grip as he reaches to halt the hands reaching for his pant line. "You need to let go of me." It's firm, but the body curls inward as teeth met the earlobe, with their voice against the ear.
Ezra not only knew he wasn't human, but knew what Damien was guilty of, and had been hiding. Meeting through mutual friends, the other man had seen him physically bite another as an impulsive, sexual act while under the influence. Black mamba hybrids were lethal, their venom killing a man in 10 minutes or less without aid, but it's standard 'behaviour' to bite or mark their 'mate' or partner with fangs, whether that was in the moment or something more permanent. A weird vampire-like ritual with belligerent consequences left somebody dead, and everyone making up stories. Damien originally trauma-bonded with Ezra as each swore secrecy, but when he wanted to distance himself from everyone involved after the investigations died down a little bit, that is when the blackmail began.
Ezra also knew from conversations that Damien carried a chip implant at the back of the skull, so he couldn't actively defend himself. He could fight as a man, but attempting to utilise any part of his hybrid in the name of defense, or even attempt to shift into another form triggered the chip and sent continuous, excruciating pain to the brain until the behaviour stopped. Sexually was a different story, as company had seen. Forced to comply to his captors when they came for him, and now, Ezra knew about it too. "Get the fuck off me-!" He'd growl through clenched teeth while the belt is undone, and the hem of the pants are pulled open against his will despite white-knuckling it. Damien had not gone without, he'd disobeyed. Yet despite the risk, refused to let go of his pride. He was mouthy.
I'm putting this under read more, because this feels very out of character and more leaning into shit posting than anything people would actually want to read. But I can say, without a shadow of a doubt. If damien is sexually attracted to somebody and he's either comfortable and or under the influence, he will absolutely put out for a mean basket of mozzarella sticks or french fries. Yes he is food motivated. Not to mention his level of goofy knows no bounds. I will make this a proper headcanon later.
His relationship with sex as a whole is very negative. So, he doesn't know how to initiate it without a filler reason. Can we say #overthinker?
Leon wasn't one to express emotions so openly. Keeping even the harsh of news so casual, that was just his style. Really not minding the company from Damien, strongly preferred it. Kept his mind from drifting into darkness. As promised Leon got Intel of what Damien was asking for. Taking on the most dangerous of jobs was his specialty. What else was a demon warlock to do with his time?
Letting the silence sit between them. Even if he knew the family, he tried to not let it bother him. There was no lie that he may have shed a tear or two earlier in private. To the public eye he was a strong tamed person who had been put in his place one too many times.
"Yeah, well...what can I say? My career comes with a price." Again, casual and neutral. But seeing his open hand seemed comforting. Something that Leon needed more of. All he thought of himself was just a cursed creature who is going to hell anyway. Leon's hand grasped Damien's arm lightly. "Company's fine. For a little bit." For now he just had to keep going.
There's a sense of relief that settles in the chest to see Leon make a better decision than he would have. That was a start. Self isolation often worsened symptoms rather than relieve, but it can be a hard habit to break... and one he still was working on in his personal life.
His other hand rested over Leon's with tender reassurance before releasing. "I'm glad to hear it. You got a ride? Can come hang out with me in my van with Lori if you'd like? Can tell me why you chose this career, or we can shoot the shit about anything over a drink or water if you'd prefer to stay sober."
There's a beat that passes; "I am gonna have to change though. Don't wanna stink up my nice day clothes." There's a loose gesture toward his own face. "That and my eye." Leon had probably heard about it in passing that Damien has a blind left eye, but it had never been seen and looked completely normal any time the two had been together.
ORIGINAL CHARACTER — Defense Attorney / Crime Roleplay — looking for new people to write with. Please check out my rules page before following. 25+ / preferrably older only! Written by Linny. Would love to have more roleplays going on. If you could be so nice and spread this I would love you always <3
it was hard for jihoon to talk to anyone regarding anything personal. it was already a difficult thing to share a space, feelings, thoughts. his past was sad enough and talking about any of it would only shut him down. maybe it was years of bottling things, dealing with emotions that aside from heartache; remained unknown. undiagnosed. daily he made a mental note to talk to a professional, yet stubborn as he is, to this day he still delays that sort of visit. at least he was out there, maybe not one-hundred percent available emotional wise, he kept one foot out the door for now.
"if you are lucky enough, you can find me here. lately, my home is my office at the precinct." he states with another tired sigh. "still, at least you don't have to deal with paying for a hotel. my apartment is there, just an offer." the younger does not need to take the offer if he wishes not to.
his gaze on the other, a face that finally had a name. lips curled into a light smile barely hung to his features unless one looked close enough. Or gave a squint of their eyes. playful words left Damien’s lips. “no need, all you have to do is look up.” he says, pointing at the plaque up on the wall, for detective of the year: ahn jihoon.
jihoon had no problem with the suggestion, there was nothing that tied them together; only physical. however, he tried to be hospitable -- it'd be cruel to kick him out. "i don't mind how many rounds we go as long as we're okay with that." he stated, running his hand through his hair. "besides the walls can use a human taking up the space." big dark hues looking at the other, who seemed rather in good spirits, immediately catching his playful demeanor. jihoon had tried for many years to show a tiny smile, but his resting bitch face became the new norm ever since. would damien continue seeing him ? the world seemed so bleak. interestingly so, damien added color and for once he found hope. unsure where this all will go, feeling hope was better than feeling nothing at all.
"A precinct?" The look of surprise crossed the visage. "Wait.. you're a cop?" An awkward chuckle leaves him yet again. What were the chances he was fucking around with the local law enforcement? Amusement still hung in view, soft brown eyes look over or down at company. He certainly adored the man, but couldn't pinpoint why. It wasn't entirely known, his sexuality. Yes, he liked men, but it was never to the same viscosity as anyone else he'd met or known in that realm. It was, different, and difficult to express.
A part of him was guarded, thanks to the hyper-vigilance and bad past experiences. There is a small sense of comfort if his assumption about the man's job were true. "A hotel? You know I live in my van, luv. Most I could use a hotel for, is a shower. My van doesn't have one." Casually, eyes do tear away to look around the space. It had all the comforts of an actual home, and he wouldn't be confined to a bed and small walkway.
Looking around the apartment, it's clear Damien isn't paying attention to the hint of a smile, but he's told to look up, and eyes shift to where the man pointed. Lo and behold there was a name. "Oh, a detective eh? So, you are a cop then? A type, I mean. That's cool." Shoulders lift temporarily.
As the conversation continued, Damien outrightly laughed. "How many rounds do you think I'm capable of? We're not spring chickens anymore, I'ma need a little bit more than fifteen minutes before I got anything in my tank again." Of course, the jokes to mask the insecurity. Yet, the tenderness in the follow up remark, gets his disposition to settle, and it's clear there's consideration. "You gonna be heading to work now then?" The mind sobers a little bit more at the thought of actually staying. "Uhm.. Can I...er.. uhm.. eat from the fridge?.. I uh.. also have a dog I need to pick up from a friends so..." Damien isn't sure how to get to the point he's trying to make, so he just.. sits there, awkwardly.
males, 30+ only (35+ preferred), Asexual spectrum friendly
Please do not like my starters
Review my pinned and carrd before you reply.
@indiestarter
connection: Either you two are friends, or acquaintances from a prior Grindr date, y/m is asking for the right way to approach someone they like romantically. Only problem is, that's Damien, and he doesn't realise it's about him. Open to having it lean into horror implications and obsessiveness.
"Why do you think I'd know?" Damien runs fingers through dark strands while sitting on the back of the van with the back doors open. A stim he'd done for as long as they'd known each other.
Words are spoken in-between munching on a microwavable meal that had been heated up in a pot over the campfire. "I tell ya what, if you're that sure I'd know, shoot. But if it ends up getting you slapped, I take zero credit."
( a collection of dialogue prompts where both are denying it HARD (aka: "i don't like you" while looking like they’re two seconds from kissing). adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <3 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips.
(tension? what tension? shut up.)
“i don’t like you. i just think about you a lot. totally different.”
“you think i have a crush on you? please. i’d rather kiss a cactus.”
“it’s not a big deal that i noticed your favorite drink. i’m just observant.”
“you looked good tonight? i didn’t notice. i wasn’t staring. shut up.”
“we’re not a thing. people are just delusional.”
“my heart only races because you're infuriating. not because i like you.”
“what? no, i wasn’t trying to impress you. this outfit? pure coincidence.”
“ugh, why would i be jealous? you can flirt with whoever you want. i don’t care.”
“we don’t have chemistry. we just argue really well.”
“i don’t think about kissing you. ever. like, not even once. definitely not last night.”
“you could never be my type. you’re too... you.”
“you’re the worst thing to happen to me. and i say that fondly. platonically. shut up.”
“it’s not tension. we just hate each other politely.”
“the way i feel about you? confusing. disgusting. ignore it.”
“this is not a moment. don’t make it a moment.”
“you thought i was going to kiss you? gross. who told you.”
“you look pretty tonight. as a rival. i meant that competitively.”
“we’re not flirting. this is banter. battle. mental warfare.”
“god, you make me want to scream. in a strictly platonic way.”
“i don’t like you. i don’t even tolerate you. i just... memorize how your eyes look in moonlight for strategy.”
