Characters On The Run

One of these days I'll have a link to the story I write about this. Until then.... This'll sit here for a while.

You are a tavern keeper who’s been in business for 15 years. A local crime lord is trying to extort you, sadly for them you know tons of adventurers who owe you favors, and even have mimics for chairs.

turning into a dragon really helps in every situation

missed ur flight? dragon. insecure about how powerless you feel? dragon. want to protect the people you love? dragon. just want to be left alone? dragon. become a dragon. you want a hot dog but the power's out and a cold hot dog grosses you out? turn into a dragon and heat that shit up. want girls to be scared of you? dragon. want girls to be really inexplicably horny for you? strangely also dragon. want girls to scritch behind your horns and call you pretty when you start purring? dragon.

it will help you. become a dragon

Tw: mention of past abuse

something at will always hit me like a bat is when the super happy sunshine character has a horrible whumpy past! Whumpee began smiling when they saw their friend. "Hey dude! What's on the agenda for today?"

"We only have one guy to interrogate," A explained as they glanced at their clipboard. "Everyone is already inside."

A led whumpee through the rows of cells. They tried not to look at the people inside. They tended to ignore anything that could dampen their smile. Whumpee's eyes were drawn to the cell their friends surrounded.

"Who's..." whumpee froze as they saw the figure in the cell. It was all too familiar.

Leader didn't notice whumpee stiffen. "Our guy today is Whumper LastName. Accused of multiple accounts of kidnapping, torture, abuse... all kinds of stuff like that. Boss wants us to get locations. They think there could still be more captives." They turned to whumpee, unsettled by their silence. "Whumpee, what's up?"

whumpee realized they had been staring at whumper. "Nothing!" They smiled at leader.

"wait,"

Whumpee jumped at the sound of whumpee's voice.

"Whumpee? As in Whumpee LastName?" They chuckled.

"whumpee? Do you know this guy?" B asked.

"no?" Whumpee laughed, clearly over compensating. "I've never seen this dude before,"

"Are you sure? That would actually be really helpful for this case," Leader offered.

"nope! I've never met someone named whumper,"

"Come on now whumpee," whumper rose from the bed they were sitting on. "You can't forget this face. I certainly can remember your screams well,"

"Whumpee? What are they talking about?"

"nothing! Just them trying to mess with us. Don't listen to them." Whumpee looked around for something to distract everyone with.

"whumpee, you're shaking," B reached out to touch whumpee's should but they flinched and jumped away.

Oh god. Everything they've worked for. They've perfectly crafted this personality, and now whumper is going to destroy their life a second time.

"I used to know whumpee really well. I always wondered what happened to them after they escaped." Whumper smiled, as if thinking of a fond memory. (which wasn't too far from the truth) "I remember how well whumpee took whumper 2's beatings. I particularly liked their screams when I whipped them."

"Shut up!" Whumpee yelled. They hadn't noticed the tears falling down their face.

"Oh! How's whumpee 2?"

"You disgusting bastard! You killed them and you know it. How!? How is someone so sick and twisted as you?!" Whumpee stopped and looked at their friends and regretted it. They stood with shocked and worried faces. Fuck, whumpee really fucked everything up again.

Angels Prompts

Angels are not the cute, fluffy creatures the world likes to see them as. They are powerful warriors and are not here to coddle humans.

The wings of an angel are high maintenance and so almost every angel has a companion who helps them out with keeping their wings ready and beautiful.

Sometimes angels like watching over their humans laying in bed. Those destructive little creatures look so peaceful when they are asleep.

All angels are supposed to be siblings. And they do have a family dynamic between them - a very toxic one.

They have been on earth for millennia. Nothing can shock them anymore. Or so they thought.

An angel's wings are powerful, made for flying and fighting. But they are also incredibly soft and wonderful to be surrounded by.

Loving humans as an angel also means watching a lot of them die.

The angels are wandering the world looking like regular people. But if you watch more carefully, it's actually pretty easy to spot one.

They have a job to fulfill, giving to them millennias ago, and almost nothing could get them to abandon that job.

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Adults: Following rules is good, not following rules is bad

Little me: Okay :] *follows a rule*

Adults: Oh my god look at this loser. He doesn't know that this rule is Secretly Okay To Not Follow. Dumbass. Let's all laugh at him

“If you tell me, it’s an essay. If you show me, it’s a story.” — Barbara Greene

TW: Whump

CW: crying, blood, bruising

It was all behind him now. He was out. He was free. All he had to do was get to his friends and heal up. The bruises on his wrists bled a little, as he stumbled down the dark street. He roughly wiped away tears from his face, hardly able to stand. His very soul shook, the tremors spreading to his bones, his muscles, his tendons.

He leaned against a wall, lightheaded from exhaustion. He wasn't used to walking everywhere. Flying was just so much more convenient. But any qi usage would mean capture as Thomas would no doubt be scanning for any large qi use. In this pitiful state, it wouldn't even be a fight. All Dené could hope right now is that he almost died and got a boost after he healed up.

He fell to his knees and screamed. A gutteral scream that was borne from his heart. A scream, not of pain or anger, but of release. As did his tears, so too did his scream lift a weight from his shoulders. He shuddered before standing up. At least, trying to. His legs gave out and all he could do was kneel as rain began to fall. A calming, cleansing, light rain that romantics danced and proposed in. The moon played across the water dreamily, almost mocking Dené's predicament.

But as quickly as it had come, it was no longer. At least, not on his back. He looked up. It was a woman holding a rather large umbrella, one who looked quite established, that she was not one to be trifled with.

"Hi. Um, you look like you need some help."

"I just need to get to my friends and I'll be alright."

"Well based on the sound of your throat and your posture, I'd say you need a bit more than that, young man." Dené growled and lashed his tail before shoving himself upright and looking at the woman who happened to be considerably taller than him. "Well?" she questioned. She looked like Lady Dimitrescu, but felt more like a mother bear, perfectly willing to kill, but only as a means to protect.

"Fine," Dené muttered and the lady called her chauffeur.

"And we'll need to do something about that... mane you have. At least make it look nice."

After the drive, she showed him to a bedroom and its bathroom. "I trust you know what to do from here." She got him a change of clothes, a cloth, and a towel.

When he looked in the (rather expansive) mirror, he saw someone he didn't recognize. Someone who was weak, helpless, ill-maintained. Not the former general of a military based on strength and order. He ran his fingers through the tangled mop that was his hair and came to an abrupt stop at a wad of knots. He started the shower, stripped, then stood under the hot water.

It was then that tears started to flow. Silent tears of helplessness, weakness, inferiority, and fear. Tears of despair, conflict, and emptiness. He cleaned himself then set to working out the knots, but he didn't quite have the patience, so got out of the shower, dried off, put on the clothes he was given, and went to find the woman.

But then, his nose caught the strong scent of food, the strongest of which was the smell of chicken noodle soup, with celery, carrots, onion, garlic, and basil. It was this smell which led him to a dining room where the woman sat, as if she was waiting for him. Now she wore a silk nightgown, making her look more like a rich MILF from some cheesy anime than an evil, centuries-old vampire dominatrix.

They ate, but before Lady Borea sent him to bed, she had him sit with her in front of the fireplace as she worked out the knots in his hair. Before she was done with the first one, he was asleep.

have you guys done that “what kind of reader are you” quiz and if so what did you get

You felt your wrists begin to slide through the restraints, cheap rope modified to nullify powers. Soon, you'd be able to get up and free Glacier from his restraints, which were little more than a handcuff knot tied to a pole.

"Do you regret coming back to save me?"

"What?"

"If you never came to save me, you wouldn't be in this mess. I wouldn't have gotten us into this much trouble, and you'd be off on your own... I don't know, doing whatever it was before we met, but you'd be doing it free."

You slipped one hand free, enabling the other to do the same.

"Well," you began, standing up, massaging your chafed wrists, "I don't want to miss the chance to help a sidekick out. The whole 'hero' thing is dumb, but the core of it, to keep people safe? There's no reason it shouldn't exist. And if I get eyes on the inside, even better." You grabbed a saw off the rack on the wall and cut the rope binding Glacier's hands before putting it back and grabbing a hammer and taser to arm yourself.

Writing Prompt #2920

"Do you regret coming back to save me?"

He snapped out of his thoughts. "What?"

"If you never came to save me, you wouldn't be in this mess. I wouldn't have gotten us into this much trouble, and you'd be off on your own...I don't know, doing whatever it was before we met, but you'd be doing it free."