CALL ME DEV 🥁
❝Currently on quests to hunt the beasts that escaped the dark.❞
Every battle is another attempt to prove something to himself. Every beast slain is one more step toward the name he intends to reclaim. Yet beneath the stubborn drive lives something softer, something most warriors bury deep. Dev protects the weak with the loyalty of a dog guarding its home, even when no one is watching.
Some wounds sharpen a man. Others haunt him. Dev carries both.
themes of:
firelit inheritance · river-wrought destiny · honor hunted back · hidden gold · the beast within · warrior tenderness · sun-baked loyalty · sacred duty · haunted hometowns · weight of protection · dancing with danger · dog-hearted devotion · madness in the blood · resilience as ritual · embers that refuse to die · masculine softness · ghosts that know your name · inherited violence · grief beneath bravado · monsters of memory · earthbound heroism · fire as weapon and prayer
🔥 Selective | Indie RP blog
🔥 Writing & roleplaying since 2010
🔥 Mun & muses 21+ | Multiship | Multiverse friendly
🔥 Plot in IMs | No Discord
🔥 Please read rules before interacting
🔥 Side blog: @ofdemonessence
🔥 Tracking tag: #pyrokineticwarrior .
Born to a family with deep roots along the Indus River, Devendra Yug grew up in the spirit-soaked town of Chanderi, raised mostly by his mother, a wandering performer whose laughter and songs once filled the dusty streets. From her he inherited warmth, charm, and a fierce devotion to the people he called his own.
From a young age, Dev showed the makings of a warrior. Strong, stubborn, and quick to throw himself into danger if it meant protecting someone else. The town came to know him as its most reliable defender, a young man who carried fire in both spirit and skill.
But Dev’s pride was once broken in a way that still follows him.
In his early years as a fighter, he faced a mysterious wandering swordsman in a duel meant to prove his rising reputation. Instead, the encounter ended in public defeat. Word spread quickly, and with it came whispers that Devendra Yug had been nothing more than another arrogant young warrior who reached too high too soon.
He left soon after.
Some say he left to restore his honor. Others believe he left because the shame of that moment burned too deeply to stay.
Before his departure, Dev had discovered a gold vein in the hills outside Chanderi, enough to secure his mother’s care as her mind slowly slipped into fragile madness. He made sure she would never struggle, even if he could not remain beside her.
Yet the darkness that haunted Chanderi never truly left his thoughts. Spirits and beasts had always stalked the edges of that town, and they seemed drawn to Dev in ways he could never fully explain.
So he began to hunt them.
Now Dev wanders far from the riverlands that raised him, chasing monsters across unfamiliar lands. Some battles are fought for coin, others for those who cannot defend themselves. But beneath every victory is the same quiet purpose.
To grow stronger.
To face the darkness without faltering.
And perhaps one day return home as the warrior he once believed himself to be.
When he left, his mother had only smiled softly and pressed her hand against his cheek.
" Oh sorry.. how rude of me, I'm margo elliot and I know someone that's been around here that you know. I've heard your name floating around." She smiles awkwardly for a moment, looking fown before facing him again. " we never officially met but it's nice to meet you nonetheless."
“No need to apologize. If anything, I’m the one being slow on the uptake,” he said with a faint smile. “Margo Elliot, right? It’s good to finally put a name to the face. And I appreciate you saying it’s nice to meet me, even if I am a bit late to the introduction.”
He tilted his head slightly, keeping a respectful tone as he asked, “since my name’s apparently been floating around, should I be worried about what version of me you’ve been hearing about?”
Unbeknownst to you, you've been splashed with a lust potion. How many times are you being hit on before you realize it's not just your regular rizz factor?
"I’d probably make it through an entire night in town thinking I’m just having a strangely successful day, getting hit on a dozen times before it finally starts to feel less like natural charm and more like something is off."
"By the time someone actually says the word “potion” out loud, I’d already be wondering why even the most polite conversations keep turning into confessions I did not ask for."
Sinclair, which of the seven deadly sins are you? More than one? More than a few?
"I'm not really a man keen on keeping up with faith and whatever 'sinning' means to ya. But, wrath, if I’m forced to choose."
"It shows up when I feel cornered, when I feel disrespected, when I feel like I’ve been made small by people who don’t understand what it cost me to become who I am. I regret my actions afterwards. Can't help my anger issues."
How did it go from having an intimate relationship with Delia to you later hunting her for sport? That's a wild turn around.
“It’s complicated. With Delia, it’s always been complicated.” He drags a hand over the back of his neck, shoulders tense like he is carrying something he cannot quite set down. “One moment she’s someone I would cross kingdoms for. The next she is a demoness who seems to enjoy turning my life into a living hell.”
“I never really know where I stand with her. Or who she is going to be when I find her again. And I…” He pauses, voice lowering. “I do not think I ever learned how to cope with that."
Have you ever been captured by the game you've hunted?
"A lot more than I'd like to admit, but sometimes that works to my advantage like getting inside secrets. And I don't call the monsters I hunt 'game' like I'm not hunting them for sheer pleasure, but to lock them up so they don't harm the innocent."
”Ilyas, I feel like you might enjoy camping in the wilderness.”
"What others call camping in the wilderness has been my life since I was fourteen years old. But, I mean.. you're not wrong. It's a lifestyle that fits me."
"What about you? Something tells me you're respectful enough to be allowed in nature."
Deven huffed a quiet laugh at that. “Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of it. Not the leisurely kind either. More like being dropped into places that are trying to kill you and figuring it out as you go."
"I had to adapt fast or not make it back at all. Guess you could say it’s a bit like that show Survivor, just without the tiny hidden cameras.”
( illness ) : one muse is severely ill and the other finds them in a rough state
Sentinel Services, their drones, their robots - they were all out in full force today. She didn’t know what had triggered the latest crackdown on mutants, but it was brutal. She’d lost track of how many portals she’d made, of how many times she thought she’d gotten out of dodge or found a place to hide, only to be spotted and have to take off again. So when another drone appeared, she raised her hands to open another portal, but in the back of her mind, she knew that it wasn’t going to be enough. That despite the exhaustion, that despite the toll it was taking on her, she was going to have to push harder. To go further if she was even going to stand a chance of escaping. And with that in mind, she pulled, tearing a hole through space with grit teeth and a swallowed scream.
She barely made it out of her portal before collapsing into an alley, immediately passing out on the concrete.
Deven did not hesitate when she dropped. He crossed the alley in a few quick strides and went straight to his knees beside her, fingers pressing to her throat until he found the pulse he needed. It steadied him just enough to move. She was alive. That was all that mattered right now. The air around her felt wrong, like something had been pulled too far and too often, and he could only guess what it had cost her. He slipped one arm beneath her shoulders and the other under her knees, lifting her carefully against his chest as if any sudden movement might break what little strength she had left. He needed to get her out before something found them. He needed somewhere quiet, somewhere hidden. She was not dying here on cold concrete. Not on his watch.
He moved fast through back routes and narrow passages, keeping to shadow and listening for anything that did not belong. When the distant hum of a vehicle passed too close, he pressed them both into cover and held her tighter without thinking. Keep breathing. Just keep breathing.
"It cannot always be day.. The sun must set. We are the shepherds of the moon, don't you see?"
Gemina's eyed flicked wildly around before settling fully on Devlin. It was not unlike the gaze of a rabid animal. Entirely driven by aggression and bottomless hunger. Whatever stared back at him was not a creature intended to be seen in the light; corpse white skin marbled by corrupted veins and decorated with dripping crimson.
Lurching forward, her bloody hand offered out as she mimicked his voice with a wolf-like smile. "Do you not recognize me?" Yet as soon as his voice left her lips there was a sudden shift in her demeanor. The mania in her gaze dissipated into pure panic as her body slowly recoiled backwards.
Dev’s expression sharpened with concern as the last trace of aggression drained from her face, leaving only panic and confusion in its wake. He clocked the blood, the trembling hand still half-extended, and made a deliberate choice not to react to it in a way that might spike her further. Instead, he shifted his stance slightly so he was visible but not looming, his voice dropping into something steady and anchoring, like a hand offered without force.
“Gemina, it’s me Devlin,” he said more firmly, letting her name and his settle into the space between them. “You’re in the cineplex, you’re safe, and whatever just happened… you’re not in it anymore.” His gaze stayed locked on hers, patient but intent, as if he was trying to pull her back piece by piece.
Send in "XXX" and I'll generate an NSFT prompt for our muses!
Your prompt:
Shhh. Deven and Greta are hooking up somewhere they shouldn't be. It's a struggle to stay quiet, especially when people are so close by and the thrill of getting caught gets Greta so excited, they're biting back moans.
The closet was too small, the party too close beyond the door, voices and laughter slipping through the cracks while Deven stayed pressed in the dim heat of it all with Greta right there against him. Warm legs wrapped around his waist, his pants still at the bottom of his ankles. He couldn't resist it, he needed to have her, and from her reaction, so did she. He kept his voice low, barely more than breath, eyes going once to the thin line of light under the door before settling back on her.
“Greta, we’re one door away from being found, can I kiss you so you stay quiet?”
This was new, but Devendra trusted Aya. He had been difficult all evening, pushing at edges he knew better than to test, and now, within the quiet, dim-lit privacy of their chambers, there was no audience left to deflect him from the consequences.
The silk of his clothes hung on him as he knelt on the polished stone floor. Aya’s command lingered in the space between them, sharper than any blade, and when she called him “baby,” it landed with a strange contrast. Soft on the tongue, but unmistakably authoritative in context.
Devendra exhaled once through his nose, steadying himself, eyes lifting toward her with a flicker of defiance he didn’t quite bother to hide. Whatever came next, he stayed where she placed him.
Send in "XXX" and I'll generate an NSFT prompt for our muses!
Your prompt:
Devendra fucks Ayako in front of a mirror and makes them watch as Devendra takes them. Bonus points if Ayako has a hard time looking and Devendra grabs them by the hair or face to make sure they see themselves getting railed.
Devendra’s voice was low, a bit amused but overall has an edge that was not that different from his authoritative voice when commanding his generals.
“Look at yourself, Aya,” he murmured, not letting her escape the large floor length mirror, his hand firm at her jaw to keep her gaze where he wants it. “Not as the woman who hides behind secrets, but as you are right now… here, with me.”
His thumb tilted her chin slightly higher, his breath close enough to blur the line between command and intimacy as he continued to move. “Don’t turn away. I want you to see what I see when I don’t let go of you, what happens when you stop running from being seen.”
Send in "XXX" and I'll generate an NSFT prompt for our muses!
Your prompt:
Person B uses a magic wand vibrator on Person A. It's so powerful it overstimulates Person A quickly, but Person B doesn't stop till Person A cums.
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"... I am surprised you are capable of getting overstimulated, given how much we go at it."
