Revival of Abandoned Ideas; Damsels, Chaos and Shenanigans Based[F lf M]

[Degusaurusrex]

Looking to potentially put to use some starters from stories that never took off or were abandoned early on. Plots in following posts may or may not be open as I'm mainly focusing on this specific post. I like damsel stories, and I like my fluff build up for the feel good somewhere in the story. I'm here for a good time, not abuse or non-con.

If you'd like to view my main request thread, you can find that below.

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Partner Preferences, to get that out of the way and not waste your time if it doesn't work for you.

I don't care what your gender is as long as you can write a male character well.
Third person, past tense.
Modern day time periods. (With some rare exceptions.)
Decent reply time. My own response time will vary as I currently work two jobs. Feel free to poke me if you haven't heard anything via OOC or the thread in a week or two.
Stories via thread only please.
I like longer responses. Not novel, just longer. (More than a small paragraph, although I understand sometimes it's not possible.)
No flat out rape or abuse. I'm not here for a bunch of smut so no O/O, and I'm pretty vanilla.
For the love of everything holy, do not flirt with me. I'm here to write and make friends, nothing more.
If you don't have any public threads, please let me peek at your writing. I will, of course, present a longer sample of my own if my public threads aren't satisfactory. This is to assure that we both feel we are compatible with each other.

Lycan Based Stories

Plot Basis for Starter Post

Forced to fight for her life, to kill her own kin for the amusement of humans. How can one enjoy the taste of freedom when they've never had it?

Name: TBD
Race: Lycan
Traits: Shifting, claws and fangs in canine form

Time period: Modern day
Location: Somewhere made up because I detest having to follow real locations and setups.
Smut Level: Debatable, but likely lower.
Fluff level: I would really like a build up to a good amount.
Violence level: Debatable

Plot: Lycans have long since been outed to the human race, their treatment less than ideal due to the fear of them running wild through the cities and inciting a potential war. Fighting rings are not illegal, and often encouraged by large portions of society. For the unfortunate wolves that are captured and imprisoned, they are bred to birth more fighters, more sources of entertainment.

Born solely for the sake of being trained to fight for amusement. Forced to kill her own in to-the-death matches, collared to obey. Only a severe injury that impedes her fighting skills deems her useless, sold off in an auction for profit rather than killing her. Now, and this is where I'll probably lose most of you; I'm not looking for pet play, or master and slave. I'm looking for someone to buy her, yes, but more for the sake of either curiosity, or their disapproval of using wolves as violent entertainment. I would very much like the male to be somewhere from late twenties to mid thirties for this, but I'm open to discussing a different age. I have no interest in her wolf form being involved in potential smut.

The collar: Basically a shock collar/taser on steroids, the outside metal made of silver to prevent them from taking it off themselves. Taken off only for them to fight, it is immediately replaced after fighting.

The Starter Post

"Tessa! Get your ass over here, it's your turn!" The tawny wolf turned her head with a snuffle and caught the gaze of her owner from behind the bars of her cell, pawing at the dirt impatiently as he approached and crouched down in front of her.

"You know what to do. You fight as hard as you can and I don't care if you have to kill that son of a bitch, you win that fight if you want to eat tonight, you understand me?" She held his gaze evenly and pawed at the dirt again, butting her head against the bars and growling quietly as she waited for him to open up the cell and let her out. Of all the nights to win a fight, this was the most important of them all.

This was the end of the year event that had the stadium more packed than any other day of the year. The very last day where they finished off a year of fights with a tournament that lasted the entirety of the day and rolled over into a new year with whoever the new champion of the ring was. She had no desire to win this tournament, to become the best of the best and continue killing her own people, but what choice did she have in the matter? If she didn't at least win the fight regardless of the end fate of her opponent, then she didn't eat that night, and the punishment's severity would depend on how badly she was beat in the fight and how much money her master lost.

She'd bore the brunt of his wrath enough over the years he had owned her since she'd matured, her body beaten and scarred from various punishments as she trained to become a fighter worthy of a hot meal and a bed at the end of the night, not scraps and a hard floor that left her awake well into the night and even the mornings. She wanted to fill her belly with fresh meat, she wanted a hot shower and a comfortable place to sleep at the end of it all, which meant that she needed to win this fight just like she'd won many earlier that day. Now that the night was drawing near an end she needed to put all of her remaining energy into this fight, something that was fueled by her adrenaline as the cell opened and she padded out with a huff to walk beside her master.

Just one more fight. One more fight and she would either win this disgusting tournament or she would be punished indefinitely and severely for her failure. Whatever the end result of the night was fated to be she was ready to get it over with, to finish fighting and give her weary body a rest from the abuse of claws and teeth that had marked her repeatedly throughout the day of fights. Despite the fact that she'd only actually been in a handful because of the way the rounds were organized the multitude of beasts involved in it, they had been rough fights and had left her beaten and bloodied enough that she could feel the soreness setting into nearly every part of her body.

"Get him girl, I don't care if you rip his throat out to do it, but get him good!" Tessa yelped at the smack on her backside as she was crowded into the entrance that the owners and wolves used to get into the main part of the stadium, her tail sweeping low to the ground before she growled and padded forward to where there was more dirt and random rock structures spread about the stadium.

Despite how much money had been put into the structure and how high end the actual building and seating was, the ring in the middle had been set to act more as an imitation of the outdoors, full of dirt, large rocks and even the occasional small tree just to get in the way and keep the fights more interesting.

The gate banged shut behind her as the announcer began his loud speech through the entertainment system and Tessa's ears went back in distaste as she approached the center of the ring, watching the larger gray wolf approach from the other side and eye her with the same interest she had seen many times before. Of all the wolves she could have been put against to fight for the title, they had to have put her against the male that had shown interest in mating with her many times before and gotten on her bad side. Not only was he persistent and annoying as hell, but he was much, much bigger than her and posed a formidable threat.

"Ladies and gentleman, get ready for the last fight of the night, the last fight of the year! Finalize your bets on our convenient app and let's get this show on the road!"

The first few moments of the fight were a blur as the other wolf came barreling towards her and went straight for her throat, something that both surprised and annoyed Tessa as she lunged to the side and snapped at his backside. The bastard wasn't even trying to put on a show this time, he was going straight for the kill likely at the behest of his own master in anticipation of winning this thing.

The ground and rocks were already littered with different prints of bloodied paws from the earlier fights, leaving the stale smell of old blood and meat to fill her nostrils as she snarled and landed a blow on her opponent's chest. She found herself rolling as they wrestling and clawed for dominance over the other, teeth snapping and long nails digging into flesh as the crowd cheered and leapt to their feet to see which wolf would come out on top.

The blood was in her eyes as she yelped and broke free of the male's strong front legs, slinking around one of the larger stones and trying to formulate a better plan of attack. She had thought it was the perfect angle to dodge around and sink her teeth into the vulnerable flesh of his throat, but the moment she'd lunged out and gone for the kill she'd found herself airborne for several seconds before she made contact with the ground.

The impact stole all the air from her lungs as she whimpered loudly and then tried to stand, finding herself pinned to the ground firmly before a set of vicious claws dug into her hind leg just behind her knee, leaving her writhing and trying to break free before she felt a horrific tear of ligament beneath the skin and the smell of blood from the wound took over everything else she could smell at the moment.

"Well, ladies and gentleman... I think we have our winner, and I think ol' girl just had her last fight, thank you all for coming out and we hope to see you all next New Years!"

What the fuck had just happened?

The sharp whistle that cut through the air forced the other lycan off of her as he huffed and snarled, clearly dissatisfied that he was being pulled back from taking the kill while she lay there bleeding and whining softly. If the start of the fight had been a blur then this was even worse, staff members crowding onto the dirt field to force a collar back around her neck that would give her no choice but to shift back into human form despite the extent of her injuries. In just moments they were back through the gate as her bones broke and reformed through the change, the collar clicking firmly into place as they disappeared away from the crowd and to the back rooms to assess the damage and report it back to her master.

Was this how she died?

Basis Unknown, Starting Post

September 23rd

“Get over here!” The man's rough voice reached her ears as she was abruptly woken, blinking several times to try and clear her vision. What time was it? The chains attached to her shackles rattled as she shifted in the corner of the room, amber eyes staring furiously at her captor, at the man who had trapped her. How many days had it been, since she'd smelled her own blood and had metal forced around her neck? How she hadn't seen it coming was infuriating, how she had let her guard down enough to be captured. Year after year she had managed to stay free even without a pack, and that had all come crashing down in the blink of an eye.

Her shoulder still stung, even after the hunter had removed the bullet. He had been smart enough not to leave it in too long for fear of her dying, but the wound had barely begun to heal. The bandaging was poorly done, a patch of gauze slapped over the wound and taped in place just enough to keep it there. He was selling her, after all, so why did it matter the condition of her health? So caught up in her thoughts, the lycan didn't notice he had gotten so close until she was yanked to her feet, a snarl leaving her mouth as her shoulder screamed in protest of the rough motion.

“Shut your mouth, bitch.” She blinked again at the prick of a needle against her neck, pointed ear twitching as she jerked back with a furious expression. Had he just stuck a needle in her neck? “Don't waste your time, wolf. You can't fight with that collar around your neck, and you're going to be feeling really...” His voice seemed to fade away as she stumbled slightly, barely registering the tug on the chains as he pulled her through the building and out to a vehicle. The bastard had drugged her, and she let out a slew of curses as her vision became blurry.

“Get out of the damn car already!” The snap of the man's voice brought her partway back from delirium, and she realized that at some point, they had driven and arrived at a new location. It seemed dark, but she couldn't be sure when her entire world was spinning and she was stumbling over her own feet. She tried to speak, the words coming out in an undecipherable slur as she was yanked forward. There was a new scent in the air that she could just barely pick out, and she realized that she was about to be handed off to someone new. An attempt at a growl rumbled in her chest but never made it past her lips as she was jerked to a stop.

“Your purchase, Sir.” The bulky man holding her captive was handing something over to the other man, the remote thrust through the air before she was shoved forward. “Have fun with her, let me know if you're ever looking for another. I love huntin' them, it was almost pathetic how easy it was to get this one.” He slapped a hand against her shoulder, drawing out a long growl of pain at the impact. “The bullet's out, but make sure it doesn't get infected before you get some use out of her.” Just like that he was gone, leaving her swaying in place as she tried to focus on whoever she had just been given to.

Plot Basis 2

Peace was never an option was it? I never had the choice to live away from this madness.

Name: Eden
Species: Lycan
Age: Undecided

Time Period: Modern
Location: We'll make something up because I'm lazy and don't like following real places.
Smut Level: Debatable.
Fluff Level: Please, please let's build this up as the trust grows, my soul desperately needs it.
Violence Level: Debatable upon plot choice.

Plot Ideas:
A.)Lycans are common knowledge; and they are hunted. Whether it's to be experimented on, to be captured and kept as pets, they are always in hiding or fighting for their lives. Option for other supernaturals to exist if you'd like. This is still a pretty vague plot, so I'm actually open to a lot of different ways it could go.

B.)Someone is following up on rumors of a wolf living nearby, and whether out of curiosity or the urge to hunt, seeks her out. Maybe she's injured and that's why the rumor, so she's hiding away in her home away from society nursing her wounds.

C.)Someone does capture her with intent to keep as a pet or experiment on, only to find out she's not like wolves are made out to be. Not seeking to kill them at every chance she gets, only wishing for her freedom to return to her secluded life. If you choose to go the experiment route (whether to try and get the lycan strengths without the weaknesses or something else); I don't want to go the route of any type of torture. Studying her, taking blood samples and seeing how she reacts to common weaknesses like silver, what happens when she shifts; all fine with me. Curiosity; not cruelty. Hell, you could make it another supernatural that dislikes lycans and captures her for one reason or another.

Apparently, I've started to warm up to the Master/Pet idea. Who would have known? I guess some of what I like in these themes are technically in that category; but much more in the way of receiving affection for being good, I suppose? The whole 'the more trust you give me, the more rewards you get' deal. Obedience for affection, in a sort of way without getting into the kink side of it. Weird, yeah, but hey, on a site like this I'm not too worried.

Whichever plot, I'm very open to her being a bit feral due to being hidden away from society as best she can. Also open to her being wary, but much more calm wanting to just live in peace not wishing to hurt anyone unless it's a life or death situation.

Starter 1

How had her night come to end like this? All Eden had wanted to do was hunt, to find herself a proper meal rather than the scraps that were left behind by other animals. It was never supposed to come down to this. The autumn night had been refreshing, the ground cool under her paws and the wind rustling through her fur as she ran through the trees. The leaves blew around in a flurry of different colors, the season changing and the plant life beginning to die off as the critters began to harvest their collection of food for winter. There was the pitter patter of feet as rodents lunged from tree to tree, the scratching of tiny claws as squirrels nested with their families away from the chill of the night.

It had come out of nowhere, and she cursed herself for not seeing it. The leaves had concealed it well, keeping her from seeing or smelling the metal that had suddenly closed around her ankle. The pain was immediate and intense, a loud yelp echoing around the otherwise silent night as the wolf found herself jerked to a sudden stop by the bear trap. It burned, the way that the metal bit deep into her flesh, lodged firmly there even as she struggled against it and tried to jerk her leg free. It only succeeded in tightening the trap further and she snarled, pawing at the ground where she found it anchored in an attempt to dig it up. If she could at least remove the trap from the ground, she could try to limp away and figure a way to get it off.

It seemed she would have no such luck, the brown wolf pawing relentlessly at the ground until her legs shuddered and she flopped down with a defeated growl. The more than she moved the worse the pain became, and there was no possible way for her to even shift back with the trap still attached to her. Surely there were other wolves, surely there was someone who would sniff her out and either aid her, or put her out of her misery depending if it was a lone wolf or part of a pack.

With a snuffle she lowered her head down onto her front paws, eyes closing against the wind as she found herself growing tired. All she had wanted was a quick meal, something to get up her strength, and she had found herself weak and trapped by a human invention instead. Irony was a cruel thing, it seemed, and she found herself somewhere between the struggle to stay awake, and the inability to fall asleep anytime that her leg twitched and the metal shifted in her skin.

Starter 2

Hungry. She was so hungry, and the closer to civilization that she got, the stronger the smells were. How many days had it been since she'd had a full meal past the small critters she had caught? Her task of finding other wolves to join them had fallen through, the group long gone by the time Eden had made her way to the spot. That left her alone, hungry, and far from home with no proper shelter. She was currently cold, starving, and everything inside her mind was muddled.

The moon shone over everything as she trekked through the rain, dressed in little more than a pair of dirt caked shorts and a shirt. Bright eyes flickered wildly around to take in her surroundings, the moonlight casting shadows across her dark skin as she slunk around the woods. Just a little food, she just wanted a little food.

The sound of voices caught her attention and she paused, hunching down close to the ground and growling. There were several men approaching her now and she bared her fangs, snarling as the stick came down on her shoulder. The pain was instant but it only set her off more as she fought against the shift, fingertips already thick black claws that dug into the man's chest as she lunged and took him down to the ground.

Amber eyes stared down at him full of fury as she dug her claws in harder, raking them across his chest harshly until she'd reached his throat and clawed until he was a gurgling, dying mess of blood. How many humans were there? Rolling off of the one she'd managed to kill in her frenzied state Eden growled at the remaining ones, chest heaving as she tried to determine who to go after next.
The blow to her face made her snarl in pain, fighting against the men's assault even as they looped her in chains to restrain her. When at last her mobility was limited she could only growl and snap at them with her teeth, feet dragging into the ground until she found herself lifted off the ground and carried off to somewhere.

By the time that they arrived she was still panting and snarling, blood drying on her face from the initial blow that had ended with them taking her down. Wide eyes looking wildly around the building as she continued to fight the men, the sight of the needle only making her struggle harder even as they drug her over and latched the chains to the metal rings designed to hold captures.

Lunging as much as she could with her limbs chained up Eden snapped her teeth again, yelping when the movements sent pain through her entire body. With the adrenaline slowly wearing off she could finally feel the pain from all their blows, her body beaten and battered as she cowered away from them.

Basis Unknown, starting post

This was... An unfortunate situation for Tessa. As if fighting another wolf over apparently intruding on territory that wasn't hers, she had managed to get herself caught in a trap and scare off the only human to stumble upon her for hours. The blood on her hind leg was dried and caked from thigh to ankle from all of her initial jerking around when she'd tried to free herself, and even though the wound had stopped bleeding some time ago her movement was extremely limited. It seemed any tugging on the trapped limb would start the bleeding all over again, succeeding only in forcing howls of pain from her muzzle before she returned to licking her wounded limb.

She wasn't going to gnaw off her foot just because she'd gotten caught, but she couldn't pry the trap open with her front paws. She couldn't risk shifting back while still caught in the trap and doing permanent damage to any of her muscles or shattering any bones. Shifting between her lupine and human form was strenuous enough as it was when forced, but doing so when injured was sure to leave a long lasting injury if she didn't do it just right.

It had to have been evening by now, and she'd been there nearly all day since the steel had snapped shut around her ankle. How could she have possibly been so careless? She was already caked in blood and mud from fighting with the other wolf, bore scratches and bite marks around her body to the point that while not fatal, they looked far worse than they were. The majority of the damage done to her small body was in the ankle trapped by the steel, the sharp, long teeth embedded deep into flesh as she licked at the wound and whined unhappily. Had the other wolf intentionally led her toward the traps knowing they were there, or had she been the unfortunate victim of poor circumstances and poor luck?

Whatever the case, she was stuck there in the woods occasionally inspecting her trapped leg, hoping that somehow something had changed or another human would stumble upon her and take enough pity on her to at least try to free her from the jaws of death. The first human hadn't even seemed to realize what she was at all, between how much smaller than the other wolves she was at the fact that her fur was bloody, dirty, and matted, they had mistaken her for a stray dog that had gotten lost and trapped in a moment of poor fortune.

The wind had picked up and she opened her eyes, realizing that at some point during the last bit, she had dozed off again. Between the blood loss and the strenuous deal of trying to free herself before resigning herself to her fate, Tessa was exhausted and cold. Even her fur couldn't stop the wind that was continuing to pick up through the afternoon and into the evening, and she shivered and pawed at the ground with her front feet as she caught a whiff of what smelled like human. Was she hallucinating, or had the human from earlier returned out of morbid curiosity? She had frightened them off by snarling and snapping, after all, so it made more sense that it might be another person entirely.

Who the hell was coming in the woods at this time of day, though?

I can't find the plot setup for the following one, I just know it had something to do with being able to adopt Lycans as pets/companions. Sorry!

Basis Unknown, starting post

“The more you fight, the more it's going to hurt.” Tessa yelped as the handler pulled her along by the length of chain connected to her collar, causing her to stumble on the way to the vehicle out front of the shelter. The back doors of the van were already propped open, the cage inside prepared for their venture as she dug her heels into the ground and tried to jolt back.

“You would think you'd be happy to be out of the shelter and to be going to a home, you ungrateful cur!” She yelped again and braced her hands on the back of the van, wriggling around and trying to stop the handler from pushing her into the cage, only to end up on her backside and have the cage door slammed in her face.

The door to the van slammed just seconds later as she threw herself against the front of the cage, bouncing back and shaking her head with a wrinkle of her nose. It might have been feasible to escape before departure or even break out of the cage now, but the sedative that they'd given her was kicking in and her vision was starting to swim. They'd finally gotten a high enough dose that it prevented her from simply breaking free and escaping again, which left her slumped into the cage staring at the wall with no particular spot in focus. She'd been adopted? Who would be stupid enough to take a wolf whose adoption fee was so low because she couldn't be controlled?

The bouncing of the vehicle as they trekked through the city and out was enough to make her want to vomit, her empty stomach churning and rebelling as she fought to keep down the water she'd had earlier in the morning. Perhaps it was a blessing that she hadn't been given any type of breakfast yet to throw up, but it didn't dull the feeling of nausea that had her groaning and curling up inside the back of the van. Maybe they'd given her too strong a dose of sedative, because she'd never been so sick from a tranquilizer before. Caught between coherency and unconsciousness in little more than a haze of growls and groans was torture for the lycan, and she offered little to no resistance when the back doors of the van opened some time later. How long had they been driving for?

There came the clip of a fresh leash attached to her collar, replacing the metal chain they'd used in the shelter as she was tugged along towards the house. Her nose twitched constantly as she tried to parse out the different scents around them: trees, flowers, the different animals she could scent as a breeze swept over them. Being outside would have been more pleasurable if she hadn't still been walking along in a fog, scratching behind a sloped ear and fidgeting uncomfortably. Filthy clothing was so uncomfortable, but at least the sweat pants and shirt covered everything essential and didn't display her like a prize.

“Mr. Winter?” The handler knocked on the front door loudly, keeping a firm hold on the leash as he waited patiently for the owner to answer. “I've a gift to deliver to you, courtesy of a friend.” Tessa huffed at the man's side, rubbing at her eyes before glaring at this new face.

“All her paperwork is in this envelope, as well as the electronic key for the collar to ensure she won't be shifting and mauling you. Congratulations on your new addition to your home, Mr. Winter.” He extended Tessa's leash to the man with a smile, followed by the manila envelope containing all of the other information.

“We did sedate her for the drive over, but she'll be fully coherent soon, so no need to worry about anything. We do recommend a meat heavy diet, though, you'll find all the care recommendations on the papers. Good day to you, Sir.”

Demon Based Stories

Plot Basis: Starved

"And just what makes you think I could ever trust a man that owns me like an object, keeps me starved and unable to return home?"

Disclaimer: This is not in any way a non-con theme.


Species: Demon
Age: Undecided; appears mid to late twenties
Traits: Fangs, claws, and the need for blood similar to a vampire.
Lack of blood leads to loss of strength and less enhanced senses, causes slower healing time for any injuries.
Origin: Demon realm
Fluff level: Build up to high
Smut level: Debatable
Violence level: Likely higher at the beginning

Plot: Looking for a somewhat damsel in distress theme here. A mixture of fear, yet fight. None of that cowering in a corner, crying every second, but also not fighting (literally) tooth and nail constantly. I'd like a balance, as it's more realistic for a plot of this nature. Now, I haven't played a plot like this in a bit, so it's relatively open as to how it gets played. The intent is to build up trust throughout the story. To start with complete distrust from my demoness' part, and eventually lead to fluff as the trust builds up. Somewhat cliche? Yes. But I love the idea of going from snarling and snapping with hate, to learning to trust as feelings develop. So give me those good guys, even if they're moody and broody with the secret soft side that makes them good.

A.) Demons are known of in the human realm, as they like to visit, and are often captured and sold off as property. Pets, slaves, what have you. Starved just enough to keep them from returning home to their own realm, or if you prefer to add an element of magic, collared or charmed to prevent the use of portals.

B.) Captured on a visit to the human realm and imprisoned. Whether passed down from a relative through death, or given as a gift by friend or relative. If passed down after a death, the captivity period would obviously have been longer, and would create more distrust of humans.

Starter 1

September 21st

“Is she ready?”

“About as ready as she's going to be. You and I both know the old man never could break this one, but she's collared and hungry, so she ain't gonna be hurtin' her new Master.” The sound of their laughter was grating on her sensitive ears, the pointed tip twitching from where she sat inside the room. The door was, as always, locked, the voices coming from outside as the men spoke on what would happen to her next. With the human who had owned her deceased she was to be passed onto someone else, that much had been gathered over the last few days of chatter around the busy house. The only downside to his death was that she hadn't caused it herself, and for all she cared the bastard could rot in whatever hell they believed in. Filthy humans. The moment she'd realized the old man was dead she had silently rejoiced, but that hadn't lasted long at all. Even though she was free from his hold that meant she would be in someone else's, someone that was likely far more capable than the decrepit man had been. Someone stronger, someone crueler. Someone she had never met but would be delivered to this afternoon. They had spent all morning getting her ready, and she was still slightly groggy from the drugs they'd put into her to sedate her during the cleaning and changing process. After all those years her body still hadn't adjusted properly to the drugs humans used.

Was it nearly time? They'd managed to get her into clothes they deemed more proper for her meeting her new owner, and she stared down at the short dress in disgust. Not even shorts, no, the damned dress. It was clear what they expected would happen and they'd made certain that in the week since the old man's death she was scarcely fed the most important meal that she required—Blood. While she wasn't dying, Tivvy was hungry, and she was exhausted. The longer they deprived her of the sustenance the weaker she became, unable to properly fight back against anything that was demanded of her. Years of harsh actions had beat her down, but it had never broken her spirit. She had never given up on trying to escape, no matter how many times she was punished and locked up for days on end to try and deter her from repeating the action. One day, one day she would escape and she would leave this filthy world behind. She would go back to her own, devoid of the filthy pollution and advancements humans had made over the centuries.

“Alright, get that perky red ass of yours out here!” The door opened and banged loudly against the wall as a large man entered, grabbing her none too gently by one of her horns and yanking her up and towards the door. Even as she screamed and fought against him it did nothing, his other hand grabbing the chains that linked her wrists together as she was pulled from the house and out to a vehicle ready to transport her. The chains were linked to a sturdy peg in the back seat as the door slammed and they started off, the drive mostly silent even as her amber eyes stared angrily at the man seated opposite of her. The smirk on his face made her want to tear out his throat, to bask in the sound of his death just for a sense of satisfaction. Oh, if she ever freed herself he would be a casualty on her way back home.

The car arrived at their destination and stopped, the engine idling as the man exited and began to unhook her restraints. The way that she was tugged out was just as rough as when they'd left the house, and she found herself yanked into the new home so quickly that her head spun. They couldn't risk someone else seeing her in her true form, after all. A scream of fury left her mouth the moment the front door closed behind them, and she dug the heels they'd put on her feet into the floor as hard as she can. It only succeeded in making her trip, the hand gripping the metal collar around her neck the only thing that held her upright.

“Sir? Your present has arrived.”

Starter 2

“I though them demons were all s'posed to be ugly.”

“Oh no, not all of them. Trust me son, this one I got, boy.. If she wasn't a demon, I tell you what.” A raspy cough mingled with the man's laughter, a dirty hand thumping down on the bar counter. “If not for them horns and ears she'd probably pass for a human. And hey, when the lights go out,” He shrugged, knocking back the half empty glass of cheap whiskey. “Well, if she wasn't such a fighter she might be more fun, but I've sure learned a lot about them demons havin' her around. They bleed same as us, and they don't like needles, same as us.” He laughed again, waving a hand at the bartender who only gave him a disgusted look and shook her head with a quiet mutter. The older man had been spouting on for half the night of the prize he'd acquired some time ago, and if not for the fact that he was continuing to buy drinks he would have been kicked out some time ago.

“Sure you ain't a demon lover?” The man seated beside him scowled and chewed on the thin piece of wood between his teeth. “Maybe you got a little love for her body and you goin' soft, old man.” The hand that thudded down on the bar did so much harder this time, enough to shake the glasses there and earn a heated glare from the bartender returning with his fresh drink.

“That's enough of you Mister! If you don't quiet down then you gonna have to leave. I don't give a rat's ass if you own a demon or not, or if you want to brag about it to all your buddies like it's a pissing contest. Stop hollerin' on or take it somewhere else, you're gonna scare off my other customers! Not everyone wants to hear about those filthy beasts ya know!” There was a roll of hazel eyes as the gray haired man scoffed, lifting his fresh drink to his lips and meeting the woman's eyes evenly before gulping down the liquor.

“Shut yer damn mouth and bring me another drink, woman. I ain't botherin' anyone and I'm payin' for my drinks, you got no reason to throw me out.” Nor did she look like she had the muscle for it, but he didn't bother to look around for any type of security before turning back to his conversation partner. “Anyway, I been thinkin' about sellin' off the bitch. She's nice to look at and I get a good kick out of poking at her and runnin' tests, but she's too difficult. I had to clean food off the walls more times than I can count, and tryin' to bathe the bitch is near impossible. I swear if she wasn't so hungry she would have taken my head off tonight, but I made sure to leave that bitch hungry.” Hungry enough she'd been passed out cold on the floor when he'd left for the bar, shackled and virtually no threat at all.

Misc. Plots and Starters

Plot Basis: Bring Down the Pillars

“Yeah, I killed Samson, what of it? They sent me from my realm to earth to have some fun. And your god? Your god can fuck off.”

Name: Delilah
Species: Demon; succubus
Age: N/A
Traits: Fangs, claws, and the need for blood similar to a vampire. Requires sexual energy (Doesn't have to be actual sex.)
Limited teleportation ability. Lack of blood leads to loss of strength and less enhanced senses, causes slower healing time for any injuries.
Origin: Demon realm
Fluff level: Debatable; would like some build up
Smut level: Debatable, will not be high, however.
Violence level: Debatable.

Plot: Betrayed by his lover and stripped of his powers, Samson brought down the Temple of Dagon. The stories were passed down throughout the centuries. From parent to child, from church to scripture. But what ever happened to Delilah? Some say she was killed when the temple fell, some say she gave birth to a child from her union with Samson. Surprise, she's not dead.

Modern day:
"Can you really blame me for killing him? He was a well known sex trafficker. And besides, he enjoyed himself before he died, even if he didn't actually get laid."

"Delilah, you literally live on sexual energy."

"Yes, but I don't force myself on others."

Bodies tossed away, drained of their blood with their throats torn out. What better way to cover the evidence of your bite than to remove the throat entirely? Picking through men deemed the scum of the cities, drug off in hopes of sex only to end up lifeless. Hell, if you're going to run wild through the human realm, why not clean it up a little bit?

Still a vague plot, but more or less an old as shit succubus living on Earth and taking out bad guys. Sounds so elegant that way, right? Open to how the opposing party is played, as there's plenty of options. Please don't ask me to play a femme fatale that's just there to dominate your man and sleep with him. That's not the purpose of this, I'm not looking for a smut heavy plot despite the fact that she has succubus blood.

I would be more than happy to discuss her paired against an angel of sorts.

Starting post

December 1st:

"Can you really blame me for killing him? He was a well known sex trafficker. And besides, he enjoyed himself before he died, even if he didn't actually get laid."

"Delilah, you literally live on sexual energy."

"Yes, but I don't force myself on others."

The red head woman sprawled out on the bed made a noise of disgust, shaking her head before poking at Delilah. A hand swatted at the offensive gesture, fingers wiping the remainder of black makeup from under blue eyes.

“Knock that off, Mara! I don't know why you get so grossed out about blood. You act like you've never clawed anyone open!”

“Well duh, during sex!” Delilah turned to glare at her before turning back to the mirror, tugging off her bloodied shirt and tossing it towards the adjoined bathroom. “You tear out throats, darling. Don't you think it's a little much? I mean seriously, who cares what happens to the humans here? They're just free meals.”

“I care, because I live here. Besides, it's fun to see them bitching about me on the news, thinking it's a man doing all the killing.” Mara gave her another noise of disgust, rolling off the bed and nimbly springing to her feet.

“I don't even know why I'm still here. I should just go home, away from this filth. I haven't hunted in awhile, and my bow is getting lonely.”

“You and that damn primitive weapon. I much prefer the weapons of this realm.” Opening up the top drawer of her dresser, she pulled out a gleaming silver dagger. “This beauty can slit throats in one swipe.” Slamming it down into the dresser as the other woman jumped, she watched the wood splinter as it lodged firmly in the dresser.

“Jesus, Del!”

“Careful now, lest the angels hear you. You know they don't like that.”

“Jesus goddamn fucking Christ! Go ahead, strike me down, I dare you!” Turning around and leaning on the dresser, Delilah let out a delighted laugh.

“Oh, I knew I adored you for a reason. Now, are you going to go home like you're threatening, or stick around and help me pick out an outfit?” Huffing, the other red head flopped back down on the bed and threw up a middle finger.

“Go wash up, you filthy maniac. I'll stick around, otherwise you'll end up dressing like this.” Motioning to her own jeans and a T-shirt, she listened to Delilah's laughter as the rest of her clothes were flung away. The bathroom door clicked shut behind her, the sound of running water filling the room immediately.

“I was hoping to save those clothes.” Pouting at the bloodied clothes she'd left just inside the bathroom door, Delilah stepped into the shower with a heavy sigh. The amount of clothes she'd ruined just for her meals was absurd, her wardrobe constantly replenished for outfits to entice her newest prey.

“Don't take an hour in there, though, or I'll fucking leave!” She rolled her eyes as she stepped under the water, mimicking her friend silently. For as much as the other demoness complained, she was always at her side the second Delilah needed her. It was one of the reasons she actually cared for her, unlike the other demons she couldn't possibly care less about. After all, survival was independently made in their realm. Love was a rarity, even with the mated couples.

“Stop being such a whiny bitch!” Shouting out from behind the closed door, Delilah worked her fingers through her bloody hair. “Bastard got my hair caked.” Groaning to herself as she lathered up the shampoo, she worked it carefully through the tangled locks. She'd thought about cutting them several times, but men seemed to like hair that just brushed the top of women's breasts. Taking her time to untangle the matted locks, she hummed softly to herself before turning her attention to her blood splattered skin. She was usually more careful, but had nearly gotten caught and was forced to tear open a small portal to escape. While it was nowhere near impossible, it was a pain in the ass to rip open reality itself and disappear without a trace on such short notice.

“Are you almost done in there?!” She jumped at the sound of Mara's voice, rolling her eyes as she rinsed the remainder of the soap from her skin. The last of the red  swirled down the drain, the water running clear as she finally shut it off. “Thank fuck, I thought I was going to have to drag your perky little ass out of there!” The bathroom door slammed open, Delilah standing there with an irritated expression on her face.

“Seriously, do you ever stop whining?! Did you want me to come out still bloody so you could whine about that too? Fuckin' hell, woman!” Snatching a towel off the bar on the wall, she wrapped it around herself before grabbing another to rub at her hair.

“Stop bitching or I'll tear open a portal and toss you home myself!” Padding into the bedroom still rubbing at her hair, she stuck her tongue out at Mara before yanking open dresser drawers. “Now what the hell do I wear? It's cold out.”

“You'll be plenty warm when you're riding that blood and sex high.”

“Sexual energy, you idiot. I'm not fucking some druggie asshole. They always suck, anyway, and not in the good way.” Mara burst out laughing, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at the towel clad woman.

“I love you too, Del. Still, nothing beats the old days, huh? I wish I had been alive to see you then.” Rolling her eyes, Delilah finished with her hair and tossed the wet towel at the other demoness. A shriek sounded, the pillow flying back even as Delilah saw it in the mirror and ducked.

“You suck at that. The only good sucking you do is probably a dick.”

“Says the succubus.”

“Fuck off.” Tossing the towel around her body at the bed, she listened to the repetitive shrieking as she continued to sift through the drawers. “Now, help me pick a damn outfit. It's already going to be a pain to walk in heels, so I'm not sure I can manage a dress. But damn does that pull people in.”

“Oh, I'm sure it pulls them into something..” Her hand paused on the drawer, her lips twitching as she fought back a smirk. Mara certainly wasn't wrong, even if her preferred method for that hunger was on the energy alone. It was a rarity that she found a human worth crawling into bed with, but it did happen on occasion.

“Should I go with a pair of skinny jeans? It'll make them work for it, and give me enough time to do what I'm actually there to do.” Mara nodded absently.

“Might as well. Though I'd still go with a very.. Slutty top. Just keep your coat unzipped and wear some ankle boots. It'll be fine.” Nodding her head as she pulled out a pair of panties and the skinny jeans, Delilah managed to struggle into them with a grunt.

“Fuckin'.. Hell! How do human women do these when they get out of the shower?” Hopping around as she finally got them fitted and buttoned, she glared at her reflection in the mirror. “Seriously! And these bras! They do the job and all, but sometimes I get sick of wearing such tight ones. Why can't they make ones that are comfortable and sexy?”

Mara rolled her eyes, watching the whining red head struggle into a red lace piece that nearly matched the shade of her hair. The piece was secured in place, a quick adjustment of her breasts before she was satisfied.

“At least you match your lingerie. I'd have to kick your ass if you started mismatching.” Delilah gave an undignified snort of laughter, wiggling into a low cut black crop top. “That thing barely covers you. It's perfect.” Grinning in the mirror, Delilah fixed the top, musing over it before she finally nodded. With a dipping neckline that stopped just before the middle of her bra, it displayed a moderately sized chest, and cut off just below it. A single jewel glinted in her navel as she spun around, running a hand through her damp hair to detangle it. A thin pair of slip on socks designed for heels went on, shoes flying around the room as she searched for a specific pair.

“Delilah! You almost clocked me in the head with the stilettos!”

“Then duck.”

“Bitch.”

“And don't you forget it. So, you think this works?”

“Yeah, yeah. Get yourself a coat and get going. I'm going home. I'm sure you'll tell me all about it when I see you next.” Giving a mock salute as she waved a hand lazily in the air, Mara crinkled her fingers in a goodbye wave before simply slipping into a slight ripple in the air.

“Well, time to get this shit show on the road.” Checking herself in the mirror one more time, Delilah debated whether or not to bother with makeup. Deciding against it, she gave her hair a final brush through, grabbed her coat, and tossed the necessities in a small purse.

A happy hum sounded as she left her house, not bothering to lock it as she stepped into snow, her heeled boots crunching into winter as she gazed around. Like hell she was taking the car, she rarely used it unless she was going grocery shopping. It was a long walk down the mountain and into the city, but she didn't intend to use that either. Thanking the sky profusely that she'd had a proper meal, of both kinds lately, she zipped up her coat and tucked her bag under her arm. With a grin as she gazed up at the night sky, Delilah focused on the images of the city. Sifting through them in her mind, she focused on the closest place to where she knew the dealer would be going.

“There we go!” Her eyes snapped open from their half daze, and she slipped through the slight ripple in the air before her heels hit concrete. Cursing as she nearly fell on her ass, she steadied herself against the wall before fixing her coat. “Alright, let's find this bastard.” Tucking her hands into her pockets and cursing as the snow gusted around her, she made her way down the street with the confidence of a woman who'd worn heels in every season.

“Now, where is this place supposed to be?” Pulling her phone out of her purse, she scrolled slowly through the pages she had kept pulled up. Blue eyes scanned them as she nearly ran into someone, throwing up a middle finger as they snapped profanities at her. Like hell she cared what a mortal thought.

“Which way is that?” Groaning loudly as she turned on the location, she snapped her fingers in victory as she spotted the side road she needed to venture to just outside of the city. The chatter began to fade off, the lights dimming down as she walked the quiet streets. There was the dull sound of panting in the distance, no doubt prostitutes luring in their victims. Needles poked out of garbage that littered the streets, worn down and condemned buildings boarded up as she passed. The filth was almost enough to make her cringe, if not for the fact she couldn't catch human diseases. It didn't make being poked by a needle anymore enjoyable, but it kept her safe from her health failing. Kicking away a bulging bag of garbage, she trekked through the light snow towards the large building she sought.

Light seeped out of the windows on the sides, a single car parked off on the dark treeline in an attempt to hide itself. A pathetic attempt, the half broken streetlight across the way shining on it. A smirk plastered across her face, Delilah sauntered toward the large warehouse as she began to whistle a tune loudly. The door creaked open, a head of light hair sticking out as a slew of foreign curses sounded. The moment the man laid eyes on her he paused, eyes hungrily looking her over from head to toe.

“Yo, baby, what you doin' out in this weather?” She let out a low laugh, unzipping the top of her coat to reveal the less than modest top. “Oh shit, you one of those girls, ay baby?” Giving him a wide smile as she placed a hand on her hip, she took a step towards him.

“I am if you got the cash for me, honey.” His eyes were devouring her endlessly, a hand patting his pocket before he grinned from ear to ear.

“I'm supposed to be meeting people here, so I really shouldn't, but damn you are smokin'. Hell, they might want to take a whack at you too.” Delilah nearly rolled her eyes, the smile still painted on her face as she crossed the distance to the warehouse door.

“Long as y'all got the cash, I got the time.” Revolting. Filthy humans and their less than elegant courting customs. If one could even call it that anymore. More like a fuck and duck out, which was fine with her. It was the crude comments that nearly made her nauseous, the bastards thinking they were smooth. They all sounded like idiots, even as they thought they were hot shit all the women wanted.

“Come in baby, it's cold outside.” It was cold outside, and she shivered as she stepped inside and he shut the door. “Goddamn, lady. What's your name?” She smiled at him, running a finger slowly down his chest.

“I'm Anna, what's your name, handsome?”

“John. So, uh, I just give you the money and we do this, 'ight?”

Oh, you're going to be John Doe by the time I'm done with you..

Delilah nodded her head, watching as he dug out his wallet and handed her several bills. Oh, he had given her a decent amount of money, not even questioned what her supposed rate was. It was a beautiful thing, she was at least making some quick cash out of it as she pocketed it. Walking him backwards until he was against the wall, her hands worked at the waistband of his jeans as she let out a low laugh. With how eagerly his hands were moving over her, it was going to be far too easy to get the job done. The button on her own jeans snapped open, a hand sliding down them even as her stomach turned in disgust.

Filthy.

“You are just an impatient man.” Listening to the fabric of his jeans tear, she pressed against his chest and drug her tongue over his neck. Teeth scraped as she tried to block out the insistent hand in her pants, the sound of his heartbeat and the smell of blood nearly making her mouth water.

Time's up, fucker.

Plot Basis: Blacken Thy Wings[NSFW PIC

]

"Every single book your name is in, you're aware you have a dick, right?"

"Yes, thank you for putting it so crudely. Let them think what they will. I do not exist to please the masses, but to keep order until Revelation comes."

From the Hebrew word for 'destruction', Abaddon ("The Destroyer") is one of the few demons mentioned by name in the Old Testament. In the King James commission of the bible he is mentioned by name five times. Accredited by various sources to be the demon of anger, hate, vengeance, and war, Abaddon is said to command the sixth House of Hell and its demonic locust army, the very one that will torment the nonbelievers during the seventh, and final, trumpet blast of the rapture. Perhaps this is why he is seen as both the angel of hell and a destroying angel of god.

Name: Abaddon (Abby)

Variations: Abadon, Abadown, Abbadon, Abbadown, Apolloyon, the Destroying Angel, the King of the Grasshoppers, Prince of War, Sovereign of the Bottomless Pit

Species: Angel-Demon hybrid; destroying angel

Age: Unknown

Traits: Wings; claws and fangs on demand, enhanced senses and quicker healing. Her demonic aspect is fueled by blood - the more she drinks, the more it manifests - but she can survive without it.

Abbadon is the creation of heaven - a half-breed tool designed simply to serve those higher than herself. She keeps a low profile, singularly focused on her work; family does not exist as a concept for her and love is foreign. Blessed with the ability of angelic flight, paired with the demonic traits needed to operate as a living weapon, she lives, breathes, and kills without question - the orders come in, the claws come out. The names of her targets mean nothing to her except a way to identify whom to kill next; if they are deemed evil by her superiors, the deed will be done.

So what will happen when she hesitates?

There are several possible backgrounds for this - heaven could be corrupt, or at least have corrupt angels giving her orders; it could be a bureaucratic mess, where mistakes sometimes happen; or it could simply be that she's tired of doing the same thing, every day, for thousands of years.

If heaven (or at least the people giving her orders) is corrupt, then the target could be a true innocent, who is simply a threat to her superiors, and even Abbadon can't rationalize killing them to herself. In this case, the partner character could either be the target, or a "cleaner" sent to eliminate her once she did her job. Another possibility is a guardian angel who is themselves pure, and very much does NOT want her killing their charge, or even a bystander who intervenes for some reason.

Most of the same options work if heaven is just a mess - minus the cleaner - but that would remove a lot of the potential intrigue from the plot, allowing it to be focused more on drama or character building.

Finally, it could be that heaven is more or less functional, but strict - and when she finally gets tired of watching people die, she goes into hiding; the partner character could be an agent from heaven sent to retrieve her (or convince her to resume her work), or even someone sent to eliminate her as a "heretic" - or just someone she encounters in the process of trying to build herself a new life, possibly another fugitive from heaven (or hell), or some underworld sort who is decent enough (and has enough influence) to offer her shelter for some reason.

Any of these options would also work with the partner character being a literal partner - perhaps she's ordered to kill something beyond her abilities, and is saddled with "team-mate" until the job is done; or perhaps her 'partner' is a spy sent to monitor her, or the cleaner waiting to make their move. Either way, once the job is done (or she refuses to do it), they've either reached enough of a common ground to work together further, or she's being hunted or spied upon - with or without her knowledge.

Starting Post

It had been days since she'd fucked up and used her powers.

The predator in her had snapped and defended herself during the encounter with the wild animal and now she was almost always on high alert for any incoming threats. It had been some time since Abaddon had encountered one of the angels seeking to drag her back to Heaven and her duties, had been some time since she'd sent them flying back bloodied and failing their tasks much to Michael's displeasure, but she knew that wasn't the end. Michael was prideful and lost without her, without his prized warrior that was given the tasks that none of the other angels wanted to dirty themselves with. Michael would never give up unless forced to by the highest power of them all, and she knew that the chances of her being allowed to live a life in peace away from those pureblood bastards was all but impossible. Still, the lack of any angel sightings the last three days since the incident had left her feeling almost... Hopeful, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud and chance having that hope shattered.

It had been months since she'd left Heaven's ranks and gone on the run, hiding herself among the filth of humanity until she'd come across this place. The cities had proved too crowded, too chaotic, and she was far too out of touch with the current technologies and habits of humans to know enough to get by in a city dwelling, not to mention the problem of money.

Money was a human necessity she couldn't simply magic up, or at least not as far as she was aware. If the demon half of her powers allowed her to create the shining coins and green bills out of thin air then it was news to her, and she hadn't cared enough to put in significant effort to routinely steal it from the unfortunate souls that dwelled in the middle realm for such short lives.

A century was considered a long life to a human, and she had lived century after century and passed into the millennia since her creation. Abaddon held no concept of a life coming to an end or being anywhere even close to it, the only concept of life and death that she held was when she had been sent to end the lives of those deemed unworthy to continue existence by Michael and the angels that sorted out such matters. A name written elegantly on parchment in glimmering ink, a name that meant the demise of the human or creature as soon as Abaddon got her hands or claws on them and sent them to their early death. There had even been a time when Michael had grown too comfortable in his position and set out on a personal mission to have her exterminate any demon she could get to, an act that had nearly cost him his position before it had been abruptly swept under the rug and dismissed as though it had never happened.

Michael.

How she loathed him.

The few months of peace she'd had on the abandoned farm would never be enough to make up for the thousands of years she'd dealt with him. Her existence had once been nothing more than that, she had never questioned her orders, had never questioned why she had been created holding both the blood and powers of their kind and the demons that they so hated. Centuries had passed and she had been ever the dutiful soldier carrying out orders, killing human and demon alike, and even some of her fellow angels when there had been rising wars among ranks that needed squashed. She had done their dirty work and had allowed them to remain pure, to not taint their perfectly white wings or their soft hands with the deeds of uncertainty.

No more.

No more would she be a mindless drone, a warrior for Michael to use as he saw fit, for his own personal affairs. No more would she be trapped there listening to the whispers around her, ignoring the stares of those who either feared or loathed her simply for being what she was. One of a kind. A monstrosity. Abomination.

The breeze sweeping around the grounds made her ache to spread her wings, to take flight just once and shed this restless feeling that had taken root as she stuck to a more human form. Changing the entirety of her appearance while hidden so far from others had held no appeal to her, but her wings, pointed ears, and claws had been kept tucked away and out of sight, her powers put to the side as she resorted to making a living in a very human way. Her hair and eyes, however, were still very much the same and had spooked many of the wildlife in the duration of her stay, but over time they had slowly become accustomed to her presence and the fact that aside from hunting to eat, she held no ill will or thoughts of violence toward them and their litters.

She had to admit, growing food was harder than she would have thought. Most of the remaining crops had failed to regrow or had only presented a partial harvest, and she had been forced to do an awkward trip into a neighboring city to hunt down and find a way to purchase the necessary seeds and other requirements to get a garden up and going properly. It was... Not going so well, but going without a proper meal some of the time was still better than dealing with Michael's hypocrisy.

And this thing called a hammock, that she had fixed up between two trees out back of the main house? It was amazing to lay on during a sunny day like this.

The following starter was made for this particular plot prompt and I'd love to work something out with it or something similar. (The character written in both is an elf.)
Prompt: Despite your reputation as a Dark Lord, you have a strict moral code. So when a young girl showing signs of abuse wandered into your realm, you took her in. Now the neighboring kingdom is accusing you of kidnapping their princess. You have to choose between returning her to her abusers or war.

Starter 1

It had been so long since she'd been able to slip away to the human world. It was still just as loud and bright as she remembered it being, but there had clearly been a plethora of advancements made in the years since her last getaway from her own world. Or perhaps she had just been caught so quickly last time that she didn't remember some of the things she was seeing now. The fact that the world was shrouded by darkness in many places and illuminated by neon lights that nearly blinded her in others made it ten times harder to get a grasp on the current reality that was the human world. Their territories were always changing, they were always fighting among themselves and the other races, even when territories had been established and laws put in place. There was always something in the background, or at least that was what her family told her. They told her how filthy humans were, how badly they would treat her and how she was so much safer in her own world, with her own people despite how poorly they treated her.

It was laughable, that they would title her as they did, and treat her so poorly that she would flee to the very world they had taught her was cruel. A world where demons and beasts coexisted with humans, took advantage of the mortals both financially and morally at every chance they could. Could a world with demons be worse than the fate that awaited her back in her world, though? She had been kept there for years, even decades now, locked away and often shamed as their dirty little secret for something that wasn't even her fault.

What she had forgotten was just how cold the winters in the human world were, no matter what territory she was in. The human clothes she'd had stashed away for some time still fit her petite frame well, but even the coat she was wearing didn't completely obliterate the cold wind sweeping through the night streets. It had blown her long braid around enough times to smack her in the face before she'd gotten intelligent enough to tuck it into her coat, running on a mixture of adrenaline and paranoia as she sought to find somewhere, anywhere in the realm that her family wouldn't find her this time.

Would something as simple as jeans and the tank top under her coat get her entry into the club she was staring at, though? Her shoes were soaked from the snow, and the bag on her back didn't contain a single pair of boots that would hold up against the winter snow. Everything that remained of her past trips to this world lay in the small pack slung over her shoulder, and Nessa realized just how out of her element she was as she approached the doors. She was out of the cold and slowly thawing despite how freezing her feet were, but she had also put herself underground and at the mercy of what was very clearly demon territory.

She could feel them everywhere, and even though the man at the door let her in after a lingering look of clear confusion and uncertainty, she had no idea what awaited her inside other than what she could hear as the doors opened.

By the stars, it was loud, the smell of demon, liquor, and sweat clinging to the air as she watched bodies writhing on the dance floor and small groups crowding the bar in search of their next intoxicant. The heads that turned to look at her made her shrink down slightly before she righted herself, refusing to be cowed by a club full of demons and other creatures just because her ears and markings gave away what she was. They couldn't possibly be a bigger threat than her family was, and she was going to prove it by walking up to the bar and buying a drink with the small amount of cash she had tucked away.

"Something strong, please. Whatever you please, as long as it tastes good." She'd already dug into her bag to pull out some money, holding out the folded up bills and tucking her bag securely against her side as she reached the bar.

Starter 2

It was cold. Nessa hadn't anticipated just how cold the territory would be when she'd fled her home. She had dreamed about leaving behind her family for years now, unable to bring herself to keep enduring the mistreatment she suffered behind closed doors. To the rest of her people, her family was perfect. Beautiful, elegant, the picture perfect image of a royal family. All of that ended when the doors closed and they were left to their own devices, and she could no longer continue her life there. Her idea to escape to the enemy land had been a desperate last resort to find somewhere they couldn't retrieve her from, somewhere she wouldn't fail once again at her attempt to escape their clutches.

How could she have forgotten the rumors of his land being an eternal winter? Everything was dead, and if she didn't find some proper shelter soon, she might be added to the list of deceased things. The trees, where she could see them through the swirling snow, were decrepit, tall and bare and gnarled as she trudged through the thick snow. She'd been smart enough to bring a cloak to wear over her pants and top, and had opted for the boots she wore when riding if only to provide comfort for what had been a long journey. None of that kept the cold away, her braid frozen beneath the cloak wrapped around her, her limbs wet and stiff under the thin clothing her people wore in the warmer seasons.

She was going to die in this frozen wasteland that seemed to span indefinitely, and that was still better than returning to her home and begging to be taken back in. Her body and mind were unable to endure the treatment there, and even the sound of distant howling couldn't deter her from continuing in what she hoped was the direction of the enemy's abode. If she froze to death along the way no one would be the wiser, but if she made it... Well, that was to be determined. Her people spoke of him so poorly, how evil and disgusting this being was, but Nessa had never even laid eyes on him, let alone interacted with this supposed monster.

Tired blue eyes surveyed what was in front of her as she shivered, her teeth chattering as she squinted and tried to make out anything more than a few feet in front of her. Even the enhanced sight and hearing of the elves didn't help her now, and the howl that echoed in the wind seemed much closer this time.

Plot Basis: Now I am become Death, Destroyer of Worlds

What do you do, when people find out you're death in human skin?

Name: Kellyn
Lineage: Descended from one of the Greek goddess' of death: the Ker(es)
Age: 23
Traits: Access to claws and fangs the further into her power she gets. Enhanced strength, speed, and healing to an extent.

Current location: Confinement with other immortals.

"Why do you think you've always been so drawn to death? Why it's felt so natural to watch, to experience?"

Plot: Humanity is on the brink of discovering immortals exist, but what they don't know is about the existence of confinement for these immortals. From lycans to vampires and anything in between, even deities and their spawn. Of course, there are always those who get a hold of such knowledge, and who wouldn't want to get their hands on such a being? When news of such a place makes its way to the public eye and threatens a war of the races, the clock's racing.

As a descendant of the Ker and not an actual deity herself, this leaves her the ability to kill, not just reap the benefits and the energy from it. The more immersed in the world of violence and death she becomes, the more death caused by her hands, the more of the Ker's powers she can access. Only problem? She still doesn't believe it, until she's visited by one of the Ker themselves who lets it slip the location of confinement has been leaked to humanity and those who would use her for 'her true nature.' Hell of a way to meet one's ancestor.

"Now do you believe me, little Kellyn?"

"Why don't you free me, then?"

"I cannot interfere in the affairs of mortals in this way. Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours though. You won't be here much longer, not now that people know who you are and what you can do. This is my gift to you, kin of mine."

Many options here!

A. Another immortal, could have broken out and is taking other immortals with them. Could be breaking in and freeing immortals. **(Would love, love, love this one.))**

B. Someone looking to recruit her for their own use, whether to prepare for any oncoming war, or to wreak havoc.

C. Someone who wants to free all immortals from confinement and bring about the war now by unleashing them on the world. Would take an interest in her, for whatever reason.

D. Someone obsessed with immortals/immortality that wants to study the effects of power being passed on through a mortal line for whatever reason.

E. Bring me fun ideas! This is still relatively vague, obviously.

Time Period: Modern day
Location: A made up place because I'm lazy in this aspect and dislike having to follow the rules of real places.
Theme: Greek mythology with a twist.
Smut level: None to low
Violence level: Likely high at the beginning; dependent on plot.

Starter

"Now do you believe me, little Kellyn?"

“Why don't you free me, then?”

“I cannot interfere in the affairs of mortals in this way. Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours though. You won't be here much longer, not now that people know who you are and what you can do. This is my gift to you, kin of mine.”

It had been a week since the goddess had visited her. A week of continuing to be in shackles, no freedom in sight. No siege on the fortress that contained her and the others, no change in day to day life. She was beginning to think the visit a hallucination, a trick of a mind deteriorating from being locked in a small room and tested from time to time. How long had she even been there? Time seemed almost nonexistent, the only sign that another day had passed being the visits from the guards. A metal tray with barely edible food on it, sometimes a shower that involved being leered at the entire time. She'd lost count of the amount of guards that had seen her naked in the showers, scrubbing furiously at her skin in an attempt to clean some of the filth away. Nothing would take away the feeling of filth from their eyes on her though, or the attempts of their hands.

A smile tugged at her lips as a memory flitted through her mind: the spray of blood and the feeling of cartilage cracking beneath her knuckles. The broken nose of the guard had been well worth the beating she'd received for it, worth being drug back kicking and screaming as they dressed and shackled her again. Her bruises had healed in time, and as she'd suffered no broken bones from her punishment, there had been little healing to do, and little strenuous activity to aggravate any injuries. After all, how could one overexert themselves when all they did was sit in chains all day? All day, every day. Nothing to do but stare at the walls and listen to the sounds around her. The footsteps of guards as they patrolled, their laughter and crude comments about prisoners.

The days that they removed her for testing were almost a relief, if only to get out of that damned cell. The sting of the needles as they ran their routine blood tests was something she had grown used to, yet they never seemed to find anything different. Daughter of death, they'd called her. A menace to society, a threat that needed to be contained should she reach her potential. They were insane, surely! The first while she was there she refused to believe it, screaming and throwing herself at the cell door trying to get their attention. She wouldn't tell anyone, couldn't tell anyone the location because she didn't know it. If they would just let her go, dump her in the middle of nowhere, she'd pretend it never existed.

It quickly became apparent that nothing would work. No amount of pleading, crying, or screaming did anything to change their mind. If anything they seemed to savor it, as if it was all a game and they were just waiting for her to snap. Then there was the death, always the death. If a full week passed without a death it was almost a miracle, and she grew used to it quickly. She could smell it, feel it in the air but could not understand why, not until the goddess visited her. The pale skinned woman had materialized out of nowhere in her cell, shrouded in shadows as red eyes peeked out from within. The words she spoke had made no sense, denial rearing its ugly head until she finally accepted the truth. Descended from a goddess of death, who would have thought that was the reason for her kidnapping and imprisonment. The reason she had always been drawn to death, how she could sense it and almost found a bit of satisfaction from it. She wasn't insane, just the product of an incredibly fucked up family she thought was nothing but myth.

The sound of the alarm blaring made her head snap up, green eyes wide as she stared at the door. The only time the alarms went off was when something big was happening, which led her to believe a prisoner had broken out and was attempting to run, or had started a rampage. It wouldn't be the first time, just the other week one of the immortals, a wolf if she had heard correctly, had stormed through the facility and taken out several guards before they had put a bullet in his head. So many deaths, and she'd heard every one of them like they were right beside her. Disgusting.

The alarm continued to blare, the siren almost excruciatingly loud as she heard boots thundering down the hallways. Shouting guards, the sounds of guns being cocked as they stormed towards whatever the threat was. Bullets, screams, she could hear it all as she stood and moved towards the door. The only view to the outside was a small grate, slender fingers gripping it as she pressed her face against the bars and peered out. The explosion came out of nowhere, the walls shaking and sending her tumbling back to the ground with a clatter of metal against stone.

“Oh no, no.” Fire, there was fire. Of all the ways to go, being burned alive was a terrible one. “Let me out!” Her shackles banged against the door as she threw herself at it, screaming furiously as the sprinkler system kicked in. “You bastards, let me out!” Panicked shouting came from the other cells as prisoners beat on them, trying desperately to escape as they realized that the fire was spreading even as the water attempted to put it out. The smell of burning plastic reached her nose, foul and almost suffocating as she heard a loud click. Then another, and another. It sounded like.. Were the cell doors opening?

[Degusaurusrex]

"I'm tired of measuring. My eyes sees more than they should, faces haunting me even in my dreams. The future is a cursed thing to see."

Name: Lachesis (/ˈlækɪsɪs/, Greek Λάχεσις, [lákʰesis], "allotter" or drawer of lots) measured the thread of life allotted to each person with her measuring rod. Her Roman equivalent was Decima ("the Tenth").
Species: Moirai (one of the Greek Fates)
Age: Unknown

Time Period: Modern day
Location: A made up place because I'm lazy in this aspect and dislike having to follow the rules of real places.
Smut level: Dependent
Violence level: Dependent
Fluff level: Dependent

Plot: As one of the three Moirai, or Fates from Greek mythology, the burden of seeing how long until someone dies is becoming too much. After millennia of being able to simply look at someone and know how long their lifespan is, she grows tired of staying at her sisters' side, watching one create life while the other takes it in ways that are sometimes so abhorrent she can't stand to watch. Being on Earth isn't much better than above, but there she can escape from her sisters and the other gods, keeping herself secluded from society in an attempt to live in peace. The nightmares are never ending, faces haunting her dreams and her minor interactions leaving her wanting to pluck her own eyes out.

It's a pretty vague plot because it just popped into my head, so there's plenty of options for a character opposite of her. It could be someone that she runs into repeatedly when she goes into town, it could be someone she meets at a bar on a particularly bad night where she goes into one. Maybe she's grown fond of someone she sees on her trips (book store, library, something of the like) and when she sees their lifespan she decides it's worth spending some time with them to ease her loneliness. After all, if someone's life span isn't particularly long, you don't have to worry about getting too close.

I am open to other ideas, however, if you can catch my attention with a different plot you think would fit the character!

Partner Preferences:

I don't care what your gender is as long as you can write a male character well.
Third person, past tense.
Modern day time periods.
Shorter reply time (weekly is preferable, more is a huge bonus.)
I like longer responses. Not novel, just longer. (More than a small paragraph, although I understand sometimes it's not possible.)
No flat out rape or abuse. I'm not here for a bunch of smut so no O/O, and I'm pretty vanilla.
For the love of everything holy, do not flirt with me. I'm here to write and make friends, nothing more.
If you don't have any public threads, please let me peek at your writing. I will, of course, present a longer sample of my own if my public threads aren't satisfactory. This is to assure that we both feel we are compatible with each other.

[Degusaurusrex]

“I'm not Nessie, but I did have a lot of fun creating that particular lore. That was my rebellious phase”

Name: Leviathan
Age: N/A
Theme: Mythology twist
Time period: Modern
Location: Made up
Smut level: None to low
Fluff level: Negotiable
Violence level: Negotiable

Despite her fearsome reputation, Leviathan is more of a prankster than anything else, leaving the fearsome toll of the sea to other, more bloodthirsty deities. Instead she primarily amuses herself with pranks and tricks, both upon her fellow gods and on mortals.

Eventually one of these pranks backfires, resulting in her being cursed, rendered helpless and tiny in the form of a literal snake - only to be rescued by a passing herpetologist, animal lover, or general do-gooder, after she's left injured and helpless on the roadside.

The poor individual who finds her was expecting to have to feed and/or treat an injured snake for a few days before releasing her, so it's rather a nasty surprise when the snake starts talking to him (or doing other un-snake-like behavior, like trying to cover her snakedness or building a tiny house to live in). Cue massive confusion and optional drinking and/or questioning one's own sanity. Hilarity ensues.

Partner Preferences:

I don't care what your gender is as long as you can write a male character well.
Third person, past tense.
Modern day time periods.
Shorter reply time (weekly is preferable, more is a huge bonus.)
I like longer responses. Not novel, just longer. (More than a small paragraph, although I understand sometimes it's not possible.)
No flat out rape or abuse. I'm not here for a bunch of smut so no O/O, and I'm pretty vanilla.
For the love of everything holy, do not flirt with me. I'm here to write and make friends, nothing more.
If you don't have any public threads, please let me peek at your writing. I will, of course, present a longer sample of my own if my public threads aren't satisfactory. This is to assure that we both feel we are compatible with each other.

[Degusaurusrex]

Bring Down the Pillars



“Yeah, I killed Samson, what of it? They sent me from my realm to earth to have some fun. And your god? Your god can fuck off.”

Name: Delilah
Species: Demon; succubus
Age: N/A
Traits: Fangs, claws, and the need for blood similar to a vampire. Requires sexual energy (Doesn't have to be actual sex.)
Limited teleportation ability. Lack of blood leads to loss of strength and less enhanced senses, causes slower healing time for any injuries.
Origin: Demon realm
Fluff level: Debatable; would like some build up
Smut level: Debatable, will not be high, however.
Violence level: Debatable.

Plot: Betrayed by his lover and stripped of his powers, Samson brought down the Temple of Dagon. The stories were passed down throughout the centuries. From parent to child, from church to scripture. But what ever happened to Delilah? Some say she was killed when the temple fell, some say she gave birth to a child from her union with Samson. Surprise, she's not dead.

Modern day:
"Can you really blame me for killing him? He was a well known sex trafficker. And besides, he enjoyed himself before he died, even if he didn't actually get laid."

"Delilah, you literally live on sexual energy."

"Yes, but I don't force myself on others."

Bodies tossed away, drained of their blood with their throats torn out. What better way to cover the evidence of your bite than to remove the throat entirely? Picking through men deemed the scum of the cities, drug off in hopes of sex only to end up lifeless. Hell, if you're going to run wild through the human realm, why not clean it up a little bit?

Still a vague plot, but more or less an old as shit succubus living on Earth and taking out bad guys. Sounds so elegant that way, right? Open to how the opposing party is played, as there's plenty of options. Please don't ask me to play a femme fatale that's just there to dominate your man and sleep with him. That's not the purpose of this, I'm not looking for a smut heavy plot despite the fact that she has succubus blood.

I would be more than happy to discuss her paired against an angel of sorts.

Partner Preferences:

I don't care what your gender is as long as you can write a male character well.
Third person, past tense.
Modern day time periods. (With some rare exceptions.)
Decent reply time. My own response time will vary as I currently work through the entire weekend and don't have as much time. Schedule subject to change as the year goes on. Feel free to poke me if you haven't heard anything via OOC or the thread in a week.
Stories via thread only please.
I like longer responses. Not novel, just longer. (More than a small paragraph, although I understand sometimes it's not possible.)
No flat out rape or abuse. I'm not here for a bunch of smut so no O/O, and I'm pretty vanilla.
For the love of everything holy, do not flirt with me. I'm here to write and make friends, nothing more.
If you don't have any public threads, please let me peek at your writing. I will, of course, present a longer sample of my own if my public threads aren't satisfactory. This is to assure that we both feel we are compatible with each other.

[Degusaurusrex]

"They need a book on how to care for humans, for dummies."

I'm looking for this to be a bit of a wholesome plot; so if you're looking for dark please hit the back button.

Name: TBD
Species: Human
Age: TBD

Personality: Here, I'm happy to cater to either the purely romantic, caring soul; or the one that loves a good fight to earn that trust and affection. I'm happy to either play a completely terrified, defensive woman with a 'don't touch me' mentality, or to go a bit of a different route and play a more violent one who would have no problem throwing things or trying to attack her new owner even though she's terrified. Fight or flight deal, I suppose. All depends on the particular way you want it to start. Let's talk about it!

Time Period: Modern
Location: We'll make something up because I'm lazy and don't like following real places.
Smut Level: Debatable, but definitely low at the start.
Fluff Level: Please, please let's build this up as the trust grows, my soul desperately needs it.
Violence Level: Depends which personality you pick, we both know the one would have a much higher level. Besides, it's not like you're going to kill a supernatural that easy, but you can try!

Plot Options:

A.) Supernaturals coexist with humans; there's a black market for human slavery to sell them off to supernaturals interested in owning one. Whether or not other humans know about this market is up for debate. I'm willing to go with anything from it being a market that snatches humans up and sells them from there; to actually breeding them specifically for the purpose and then selling them off. All up for discussion on how my gal ended up there to begin with. Logically I would say the first makes more sense, unless it's some sort of 'returned/sold again and again' deal. I'm fine with your guy either purchasing her, or if you prefer to go the reluctant owner route; being gifted her by family/friend for whatever reason.

B.) Supernaturals are still in hiding; whether it be all of them; or your particular character. Again; could be black market, or could be someone being given a human as a gift. All vague; all open to discussion.

Potential collar; I'm open to the humans being collared to show they're property, or even just having a collar to control them. Like a shock one with a remote, basically. If you want to go that route, it's obviously up to you if that stays on past purchase. Just thought it might be a nice touch for those who like that.

I'm very open to what race I would be playing against, as long as they're humanoid. Past that I draw the line, sorry. However, with vampires, you've gotta work a bit harder to catch my interest. I don't mind them, but they've definitely become overplayed over the years and I need some fresh stuff. Give me lycans? Sure. Demons from, (or not from) Hell? Sure. For all I care, give me an Angel who's living on Earth and buys a human to rescue them from the market. Just give me the set up for that sweet, sweet fluff (down the line, of course.)

Inquire for more information, as it's a revamped but vague plot.

Tldr; fluff over smut.

[Degusaurusrex]

Your hand, my knife, your heart, my life.

Time Period: Modern day preferred but open to discussing otherwise.
Location: A made up place because I'm lazy in this aspect and dislike having to follow the rules of real places.
Theme: Arranged marriage
Smut level: Dependent
Violence level: Likely high at the beginning

There will be absolutely no non-consensual relationships for this theme. Consent is key in my writing, and will continue to be so even in these plots. Not to say there can't be hate fucking or anything of the sort, it just needs to be consensual.

Plot:
Idea One: Supernatural peace treaty via forced marriage. Shifters, vampires, demons, humans, whatever pairing can be discussed. Expect a lot of potential violence near the beginning of this, just because of more durable living beings. After all, stabbing a non-human isn't exactly going to kill them.

Idea Two: Straight up snatching the intended bride. There's many possibilities for this one, and can be used with either strictly humans, or any mixture of humans and supernaturals. I actually much prefer the latter for this plot.
A.) Taken just because he can do it. After all, what can humans do when a supernatural creature has snatched up one of theirs? Whether your character does it himself, or his family/friends do with intent to wed him and/or start drama and he's not thrilled about it.
B.) Intent to start war between two races.

Again, expect a lot of potential violence in the beginning of this plot. Yes, I know it's a short and vague ad.

Partner Preferences:

I don't care what your gender is as long as you can write a male character well.
Third person, past tense.
Modern day time periods. (With some rare exceptions.)
Decent reply time. My own response time will vary as I currently work through the entire weekend and don't have as much time. Schedule subject to change as the year goes on. Feel free to poke me if you haven't heard anything via OOC or the thread in a week.
Stories via thread only please.
I like longer responses. Not novel, just longer. (More than a small paragraph, although I understand sometimes it's not possible.)
No flat out rape or abuse. I'm not here for a bunch of smut so no O/O, and I'm pretty vanilla.
For the love of everything holy, do not flirt with me. I'm here to write and make friends, nothing more.
If you don't have any public threads, please let me peek at your writing. I will, of course, present a longer sample of my own if my public threads aren't satisfactory. This is to assure that we both feel we are compatible with each other.

[Degusaurusrex]

Multiple plots all based around lycan characters, hence the vague title.

How to Tame a Wolf

Peace was never an option was it? I never had the choice to live away from this madness.

Name: Eden
Species: Lycan
Age: Undecided

Time Period: Modern
Location: We'll make something up because I'm lazy and don't like following real places.
Smut Level: Debatable.
Fluff Level: Please, please let's build this up as the trust grows, my soul desperately needs it.
Violence Level: Debatable upon plot choice.

Plot Ideas:
A.)Lycans are common knowledge; and they are hunted. Whether it's to be experimented on, to be captured and kept as pets, they are always in hiding or fighting for their lives. Option for other supernaturals to exist if you'd like. This is still a pretty vague plot, so I'm actually open to a lot of different ways it could go.

B.)Someone is following up on rumors of a wolf living nearby, and whether out of curiosity or the urge to hunt, seeks her out. Maybe she's injured and that's why the rumor, so she's hiding away in her home away from society nursing her wounds. Possibility (if hunting her) for her to injure him, and in a surprising turn of events, choose to nurse him back to health rather than kill him.

C.)Someone does capture her with intent to keep as a pet or experiment on, only to find out she's not like wolves are made out to be. Not seeking to kill them at every chance she gets, only wishing for her freedom to return to her secluded life. If you choose to go the experiment route (whether to try and get the lycan strengths without the weaknesses or something else); I don't want to go the route of any type of torture. Studying her, taking blood samples and seeing how she reacts to common weaknesses like silver, what happens when she shifts; all fine with me. Curiosity; not cruelty. Hell, you could make it another supernatural that dislikes lycans and captures her for one reason or another.

Apparently, I've started to warm up to the Master/Pet idea. Who would have known? I guess some of what I like in these themes are technically in that category; but much more in the way of receiving affection for being good, I suppose? The whole 'the more trust you give me, the more rewards you get' deal. Obedience for affection, in a sort of way without getting into the kink side of it. Weird, yeah, but hey, on a site like this I'm not too worried.

Whichever plot, I'm very open to her being a bit feral due to being hidden away from society as best she can. Also open to her being wary, but much more calm wanting to just live in peace not wishing to hurt anyone unless it's a life or death situation.

Please, if you have other ideas that could work with lycans being disliked, feel free to message me. Worst case scenario, I'm not into it and say no.

Wolf's Fight

Forced to fight for her life, to kill her own kin for the amusement of humans. How can one enjoy the taste of freedom when they've never had it?

Name: TBD
Race: Lycan
Traits: Shifting, claws and fangs in canine form

Time period: Modern day
Location: Somewhere made up because I detest having to follow real locations and setups.
Smut Level: Debatable.
Fluff level: I would really like a build up to a good amount.
Violence level: Debatable


Plot: Lycans have long since been outed to the human race, their treatment less than ideal due to the fear of them running wild through the cities and inciting a potential war. Fighting rings are not illegal, and often encouraged by large portions of society. For the unfortunate wolves that are captured and imprisoned, they are bred to birth more fighters, more sources of entertainment.

Born solely for the sake of being trained to fight for amusement. Forced to kill her own in to-the-death matches, collared to obey. Only a severe injury that impedes her fighting skills deems her useless, sold off in an auction for profit rather than killing her. Now, and this is where I'll probably lose most of you; I'm not looking for pet play, or master and slave. I'm looking for someone to buy her, yes, but more for the sake of either curiosity, or their disapproval of using wolves as violent entertainment. I would very much like the male to be somewhere from late twenties to mid thirties for this, but I'm open to discussing a different age.

The collar: Basically a shock collar/taser on steroids, the outside metal made of silver to prevent them from taking it off themselves. Taken off only for them to fight, it is immediately replaced after fighting.

Partner Preferences:

Third person, past tense.
Modern day time periods
Decent reply time. Mine varies, reach out if I disappear for a week even in OOC.
I like longer responses. Not novel, just longer. (More than a small paragraph, although I understand sometimes it's not possible.)
No flat out rape or abuse. Kink wise, I'm definitely more vanilla, which is why I don't have an O/O. Wanna know, ask.
For the love of everything holy, don't flirt with me. I'm just here to write and make friends.
If you don't have any public threads, please let me peek at your writing. I will, of course, present a longer sample of my own if my public threads aren't satisfactory. This is to assure that we both feel we are compatible with each other.

[Degusaurusrex]

Shifted plots down and transitioned the initial post to attempts at reviving old starters/plots.

[Degusaurusrex]

Added Dark Lord starters and one for Now I am become Death, Destroyer of Worlds