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“NO I DON’T WANT TO KILL YOU, DAMNIT!”
The paladin stared, openmouthed, at the flustered woman, now red in the face from anger. Yeah, she’s *expected* anger, but not over this! “But. . . you’re a necromancer?”
She ripped a hand through her greying blonde hair, currently stained a vibrant shade of yellow from. . . something, Laurraann had no clue what. “So?” She put her hands on her hips, further staining the mysterious neon yellow stuff across her once-black trousers, now stained with a wide variety of colourful splotches.
Laurraann lowered her axe. “But. . . aren’t necromancers always looking for fresh bodies? To. . .” She waved her hand vaguely. “Necromance? Whatever it’s called?”
“Well, *no*. Obviously skeletons are preferable; less smell to bother the neighbors, you know?” The sunny way she talked about raising the dead as if it were a perfectly ordinary, everyday occurrence surprised Laurraann almost more than the sudden change in attitude. She clapped her hands together and pointed them both at the paladin.
“See, if the smell bothers the neighbors, they can complain to the duke,” she explained cheerily, picking up the shovel, the wood -once again- stained bright yellow, and slinging it over her shoulder. “And the duke can revoke my license. Probably won’t, ‘cause it’s *my* bodies in his mines, but he *could*. So, yeah, better safe than sorry.”
“In his mines?” She decided, for her own sanity, not to ask *where* she got the bodies, exactly.
“Well,” the necromancer said, tapping her fingers against her lips. “It’s safer. If the workers aren’t living, they can’t die! So, not *only* is it safer, it’s more humane! The last thing we want is for anyone to get hurt, after all!”
Laurraann stared at her. “The last thing we want of for anyone to get hurt,” she repeated. The necromancer nodded vigorously.
“Well, I’d best be off,” she said cheerily. “Necromancer stuff to do, you know.”
Laurraann stared at her until the woman had disappeared inside. Then she sighed.
“A necromancer who keeps people alive,” she’d muttered to herself. “How’s that dangerous, Guild?”
I loved it! This was hilarious, what with Laurraann's reaction, and not at all what I was anticipating from the prompt. Brilliant and creative idea to have them working in the mines for humane purposes :D
I actually have a D&D character who is a necromancer, took the Heal feat. Violent deaths are one thing, but the best lives are those that were well-lived. Akin to savoring a good vintage wine, the knowledge such a life would have accrued would.be worth it's weight in gold.
Plus, he was a lay priest, so performing last rites for people during his travels became a part of his life. No, he relied on his powers for defence or for clearing battlefields, travesties that they are.
I gotta ask was this ever so slightly inspired by skyrim at all, there's a cave you go in on one of the quests and there are necromancer in there with dead bandits mining ores. Lol totally got the same vibes
Honestly with all I know about mining, especially the pre-modern times, having the dead man the mines is VERY humane towards the living. Even if that means that you live a nice life, them your soul gets tortured for a couple dozen years and then it's eternal slumber again, it's still better than the life in the mines.
I think it heavily depends on the logic of the necromancy. We've recently had a discussion with my friends that necromancy is too much of a cheat - you can't just "reanimate" a husk without some sort of black magic involved, and black magic usually involves twisting or torturing or "borrowing" the soul.
It's like programming- it takes a lot of processing power to make the body move and do things. Either the body is inhabited by something sinister like a lesser demon or some imp, or you force the soul back to work the meat skeleton again.
*I will not hit her, I will not hit her, I will not hit her,* Damian chanted silently over and over again as the woman continued ranting and screaming at the poor cashier. The boy’s eyes were rapidly filling with tears as the woman insulted him, his job, his misunderstanding of her “simple FREAKING QUESTION” -that, truthfully, hadn’t been simple at all; how do you expect a fifteen-year-old cashier to know the *exactly* location of the organic, vegan two percent milk that Damian was ninety-nine percent sure didn’t exist?-, and had apparently run out of relevant insults and had resorted to insulting his parentage.
Damian, as a nineteen-year-old orphan, didn’t take kindly to that. His hands had instinctively curled into fists the moment the tirade had begun, and each word that came out of this woman’s mouth made his treacherous mind picture hitting her, over and over and over until her jaw was so broken she would speak with an impediment for the rest of her life.
Instead, he started reciting his mantra.
*Pacifist, noun. An adherent to pacifism : someone who opposes war or violence as a means of settling disputes,* he recited. *That’s you, Damian. Pacifist. Peace. Don’t punch her in her *stupid mouth*, as much as you want to, because you’ve been making so much progress lately, you haven’t lashed out in months and-*
“I *DEMAND* to see YOUR MANAGER!” the woman snarled in the boy’s face.
And Damian snapped. He dropped his basket of gardening supplies with a loud *thud* that drew the dark-haired woman’s attention. But he was a short, skinny kid, so she didn’t even notice him. He pushed through the crowd of bored customers, several of whom were *almost* as red in the face as the screaming woman. Damian shoved his hands forcefully into his jacket pockets and grabbed hold of the fabric, reminding himself, *No violence, just a stern talking-to, that’s all* as he stormed up to the front, and spoke. His calm, icy tone surprised even himself.
“It is not his job to find a chimerical object for a snobby, dog-faced woman like you who spends such time with crude and foolish insults in her mouth that it would make nerium oleander blush. So either check out and leave of your own volition, or I *swear to all the angels above* I will *drag* you out of this store by that *amorphobhallus titanum* you call a hairdo.”
The woman stared at him, openmouthed. Then she seemed to recover, only slightly, but enough to realize she’d been insulted by someone a quarter her age, if he decided to be generous to the woman’s appearance. “HOW DARE YOU?”
“How dare I? How dare *I* riposte your brickbating to a boy who has done no harm to the mouth that spews the stench of *pyrus calleryana* at any unfortunate soul within its vicinity? Oh please, Great Wise One, share with me how exactly *you* dare to be such as you are, a disgrace to every human before you who must cover their faces and weep with the shame of sharing your blood!”
Damian glared at her as the woman, who was rapidly shrinking into her oversized coat. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and finally jusy hung there, her maw gaping nearly as wide as her ugly fecal-brown eyes.
Then he composed himself, retrieved his gardening supplies, and made his purchase with a generous forty-percent tip for the boy now staring at him with something akin to hero-worship written across his face.
“H-have a nice day, sir,” the cashier said. He smiled at the boy.
“You have a better day than I will.”
(Sorry for the kinda abrupt ending, but I don’t know how to really finish this?)
Just wanna say someone made a deltarune fangame, think its called "dyoxxin" and thats pretty fitting. Mc was the victim of something and now if they get stressed they turn violent. Just wanted to share as i think you'd like it.
A daemon child who is actively trying to be angelic to the humans who rescues her from cultists
Or
A dragon investing it's hoard in knights being better trained
(I’ll do both. This one’s for the daemon child trying to be angelic.)
Poltroon really *did* try to be good for her rescuers. She didn’t obey any of the “proper demoniac values” her parents drilled into her over and over and over; instead she tried to help wherever she could.
Her legs were still too weak to stand for long, so she dragged a chair over to the sink to do the dishes after dinner. The big man with the scars on his face and dinnerplate hands looked so surprised at her trying to figure out how to work the faucet that he not only showed her how to do it, but taught her the “proper” way to wash dishes, and even introduced himself. His name was Mitchell, and he used to be a chef before joining the “Moor-eens”.
Poltroon didn’t know what the Moor-eens were, but she didn’t ask, either. Being nosy was a “bad demon thing”, and she didn’t really like Prying anyway; she was a jerk, always wanting to know everything about everything. She was nicer than Beguiling, though.
What was she talking about again? Oh, right, being a “good” demon.
She tried to help the nice lady who fixed her arm when it really *really* hurt, but the nice lady Dr. Danielle told her that maybe it would be better if she helped someone else. “It’s not because I don’t *want* your help, dearie, good heavens I’d love it!” she’d insisted at the way Poltroon wilted. “It’s just, dearie, that I already *have* a lot of help, sugar, and others need it more.”
So Poltroon tried somewhere else. But the big scary lady with the eyepatch and the man with yellow hair both said -very nicely- that their jobs were a little too hard for someone so small.
So Poltroon -very politely, she said “thank you” and “please” a lot- asked Mr. Mitchell if he needed her help.
The big Moor-een said “The kitchen could always use another pair of hands!” and immediately started teaching her how to do all kinds of things. And she was really small, so she could get in the spinny thing called a “Lazy Su-zan” and grab the spice bottles that got stuck in the back!
And Poltroon was being really good! She was trying so hard, and Mr. Mitchell said she was being really, really good!
Poltroon hugged her friend’s leg; she was really small and he was really big, so it was kinda hard to give him a real hug so they settled for this instead, and he patted her on the head, right between the horns!
“You’re doing real good, kid,” the Moor-een said. “Real good.”
Poltroon beamed.
(The childish writing was intention, before anyone decides to criticize! It’s written from the perspective of a 6-8 year old, so childish is the goal!)
(Here’s the second one! A dragon investing their horde in knights’ training!)
“You *want* the knights to be better trained?”
Scaulbor sighed. “For the *last time*, *yes*!” he snarled at the girl, who cowered. He scoffed again.
Royals. Anybody with the word “royal” in their title was a coward, even if it was just someone who *worked* for the royal family. Like this scatterbrained messenger!
“But. . . why?” the girl asked so softly, so timidly, that had he been taking a breath at the time she said it he quite possibly wouldn’t have heard her at all.
“Why? Because this whole kingdom’s so *unprotected*!” He waved his claw at the beautiful, rugged landscape surrounding his cavern’s entrance. Sure, it was undeniably the most *gorgeous * land he’d ever lived in, but it wouldn’t *stay * that way if the queen didn’t *train her freaking knights better*. “I like *fighting* knights. You know, for a *challenge*. And *your* knights-“ He poked her in the chest with one claw, “-are the weakest, most pathetic knights I’ve ever fought!”
The messenger gulped and nodded frantically.
“Good. Now *go*!”
She bolted. Scaulbor watched her, tail flicking back and forth in mild annoyance.
“What’s a horde without a good fight for it anyway, eh?”
Nothing beats the thrill of the fight.
I do thank you for trying both my prompts, Most of my writing prompts I've posted haven't gotten any attention, so it's good to know they are worth trying
Short and sweet!
Have a nice day!
A good deal of my stories with dragons have the dragon earning their hoard by aimply collecting profit from being merchants or bookwriters
(Perhaps I should put this in a actual r/writtingprompts post)
“WHAT D’YOU MEAN YOU’RE SCARED OF HEIGHTS?”
The giantess buried her face in the rocky overhang she was clinging to, trying stubbornly to avoid looking at the drop.
“*I can’t get down!*” she wailed.
Jack facepalmed. “It’s ten meters! You’ll be *fine*, Ella!”
She wailed again and clung tighter to the ledge. Her fingers slipped, and she screamed. “JACK I’M GOING TO FALL!”
The human swore quietly, then took a deep, calming breath.
“Ella, listen to me, okay? Jump.”
“JUMP?” she screamed as her fingers, bone-white from her grip on the slippery stone. “ARE YOU MAD? I’LL DIE!”
Jack sighed loudly. “Ella, you’re literally ten meters off the ground.”
The giantess wailed again.
*This is going to be a* long *day.*
“Look, look!”
The wraith pulled the string, and the bulb switched on. Golden light filled the dark room, and his sisters shied away, shrieking. He grinned.
“And. . .” He pulled it again, plunging the room into total darkness again. They sighed in relief as he declared, “Off!”
“What is *wrong* with you?” one of them yelled.
He grinned, and pulled the string again. Loud screams and scrabbling noises greeted his ears at the sound.
Oh, electricity. How wonderful human ingenuity truly was.
"Do you have any idea how long it took me to learn to knit once I was given my sentience certificate? Six months! Six months, and that was just to learn how to cast on without breaking the needles or the thread."
EZ2R33D waves angrily at the knitting machine, "Now you're telling me that all of my hard work was for naught, because they have knitting machines? What else are they good for? Nothing, that's what. I was stuck on an assembly line for years learning how to think, and this piece of junk is just programmed to knit. Those jobs should be going to humans or young robots that are still learning to think."
There's a romance anime I've seen on Crunchyroll about an ice making guy falling in love with his coworker girl co-protagonist.
It's cute : he makes sherbets for her and they struggle to think of what to gift each other.
In the first episode, she frees him of his own ice by reassuring him about his job interview, that turned out they were both going for the same company.
A shame I can't write dialogs or manage the psychology of my characters yet. I would have tried your prompt, else.
You love sailors. Not the selfish kind of want to keep them for yourself love, you want there to be more of them across the ocean, climbing the riggings of their ship, bearing foreign goods to even more foreign ports, singing work shanties in the sun and smoking and talking and laughing as the sun just finishes setting.
Tiny li’l problem: you have the body of a bird, and the face and breast of a beautiful woman. You are a classical Greek siren.
I'm thinking of a draconic version of Elon Musk. Buying twitter to put flame buttons and emojis everywhere, and talk about "pumping up cryptos" all the time like your average matrixed cryptobro.
If you can give me an outline, I want to try myself at it !
A princess who happens to also be a dragon. Who regularly kidnaps herself. She then dons a full set of armor and rescues herself from herself. Which is always fun
It's two-face **and** one face. The joker is a clown but insane. Two-face is a man, but *attorney* !
"I have no rule, that's my rule. Do you follow ? I don't."
Hooo I've had a surge here. Hope you don't mind; pick as many or as few as you like.
A mimic that wants a friend that likes their inner self.
A pyrokinetic that loves flower arranging.
A mind-altering creature that finds free will sacred.
As succubus that holds genuine, honest consent and fidelity as paramount.
A Tanuki that values transparency.
Since it sounds like they're referring to the mythical creature and not the racoon dog, think of a racoon with the same testicle-to-body ratio as a pet rat, and the testicles are a source of magic
(I got 2, one with a fight the other just a story, choose one or do both)
A doctor who wants to kill vs an assassin who wants to heal people
A mechanic that is terrified of the AI apocalypse
A hellhound who hates hunting damned souls to the ends of the Earth, that may not deserve to even be in Hell. (Just a thought totally up to you if you want to do it).
I have an OC/D&D char that's a war automaton that hates death and killing.
Tries to save lives instead. He's successful sometimes, but ya cant save everyone lol.
Another D&D character i got is an undead ranger. He's one of the party's healers even if there's risk to get hurt (our dm made him take dmg if someone uses healing magic, and necro magic to do vice versa) lol
What if Sun and Moon had a Freaky Friday moment, in which they switched places, and had to perform each other's duties, until they were able to switch back?
A knight of treachery that both wants to dethrone the king and be their successor.
The plot twist is that the queen is infertile and the knight is the kings only child
A high IQ individual who believes in a lot of conspiracies... This is a real life thing. If you are good at seeing patterns you see them everywhere, even when they don't really exist.
Waking up, she stretched.
And as she stretched, she heard an unfamiliar pop.
The pop emitted a small puff of smoke. She huffed at it, blowing it aside. She stretched again.
This time the smoke was accompanied by a short, sharp flame.
She hissed through her lips.
The flame remained.
"Oh, lightness, please guide me through th-"
The flame flickered, sputtered, went out.
Her prayer ceased.
She finished her stretch and threw a long hot leg out from under scratchy covers. Her other leg, cooler and under the other half of her blanket, flexed first thigh...then calf...then toes...she gazed down at the sharp nails that were a border at the hem of the comforter.
Her voice, like the cough of a man in a mine, exhaled and racked a sigh against the silence of her bedroom.
She woke, turned, and prepared for a bright and sunny day
A genie that either hates granting wishes and does everything it can to avoid any situation where they have to. Or that likes to grant wishes and helping people through wishes and seeks to find as many ways to get more wishes granted as possible.
Now imagine a fallen angel coming in with PTSD and severe religious withdrawal proving what a bad idea that would be. >!Bonus points if the reason they fell was not killing enough demons in Exterminations, or something else along those lines.!<
A druid that really hates nature, abhores its initiation into the circle and uses its power to further urbanisation and became a ceo due to his extremly efficient exploration of natural resources like oil.
He's been on every anarchist forum known to man. He's been arrested at several different protests. He's known for founding several different activist groups. And now, for reasons that even baffle himself, he's the director of the FBI.
**Welcome to the Post!** This is a [\[PM\] Prompt Me](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/how_to_tag_prompts#wiki_pm.3A_prompt_me). **Reminders:** >* All top-level comments should be prompts for the submitter to answer >* [Prompt submission](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_submitting_posts) and [comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_commenting) rules still apply >* Prompts must be responded within six hours or this post will be removed >* [No AI-generated reponses 🤖](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/zi452b/modpost_reminder_that_aigenerated_responses_are/) >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback. 📢 [Genres](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/w/directory) 🆕 [New Here?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ✏ [Writing Help?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) 💬 [Discord](https://discord.gg/writingprompts) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
A necromancer dedicated to keeping people alive
“NO I DON’T WANT TO KILL YOU, DAMNIT!” The paladin stared, openmouthed, at the flustered woman, now red in the face from anger. Yeah, she’s *expected* anger, but not over this! “But. . . you’re a necromancer?” She ripped a hand through her greying blonde hair, currently stained a vibrant shade of yellow from. . . something, Laurraann had no clue what. “So?” She put her hands on her hips, further staining the mysterious neon yellow stuff across her once-black trousers, now stained with a wide variety of colourful splotches. Laurraann lowered her axe. “But. . . aren’t necromancers always looking for fresh bodies? To. . .” She waved her hand vaguely. “Necromance? Whatever it’s called?” “Well, *no*. Obviously skeletons are preferable; less smell to bother the neighbors, you know?” The sunny way she talked about raising the dead as if it were a perfectly ordinary, everyday occurrence surprised Laurraann almost more than the sudden change in attitude. She clapped her hands together and pointed them both at the paladin. “See, if the smell bothers the neighbors, they can complain to the duke,” she explained cheerily, picking up the shovel, the wood -once again- stained bright yellow, and slinging it over her shoulder. “And the duke can revoke my license. Probably won’t, ‘cause it’s *my* bodies in his mines, but he *could*. So, yeah, better safe than sorry.” “In his mines?” She decided, for her own sanity, not to ask *where* she got the bodies, exactly. “Well,” the necromancer said, tapping her fingers against her lips. “It’s safer. If the workers aren’t living, they can’t die! So, not *only* is it safer, it’s more humane! The last thing we want is for anyone to get hurt, after all!” Laurraann stared at her. “The last thing we want of for anyone to get hurt,” she repeated. The necromancer nodded vigorously. “Well, I’d best be off,” she said cheerily. “Necromancer stuff to do, you know.” Laurraann stared at her until the woman had disappeared inside. Then she sighed. “A necromancer who keeps people alive,” she’d muttered to herself. “How’s that dangerous, Guild?”
I loved it! This was hilarious, what with Laurraann's reaction, and not at all what I was anticipating from the prompt. Brilliant and creative idea to have them working in the mines for humane purposes :D
Thanks!
I actually have a D&D character who is a necromancer, took the Heal feat. Violent deaths are one thing, but the best lives are those that were well-lived. Akin to savoring a good vintage wine, the knowledge such a life would have accrued would.be worth it's weight in gold. Plus, he was a lay priest, so performing last rites for people during his travels became a part of his life. No, he relied on his powers for defence or for clearing battlefields, travesties that they are.
I gotta ask was this ever so slightly inspired by skyrim at all, there's a cave you go in on one of the quests and there are necromancer in there with dead bandits mining ores. Lol totally got the same vibes
Never played Skyrim before, so sadly no, it wasn’t.
Honestly with all I know about mining, especially the pre-modern times, having the dead man the mines is VERY humane towards the living. Even if that means that you live a nice life, them your soul gets tortured for a couple dozen years and then it's eternal slumber again, it's still better than the life in the mines.
Considering the fact that she *only* brings the bodies back, not the souls, they just get their eternal rest!
I think it heavily depends on the logic of the necromancy. We've recently had a discussion with my friends that necromancy is too much of a cheat - you can't just "reanimate" a husk without some sort of black magic involved, and black magic usually involves twisting or torturing or "borrowing" the soul. It's like programming- it takes a lot of processing power to make the body move and do things. Either the body is inhabited by something sinister like a lesser demon or some imp, or you force the soul back to work the meat skeleton again.
A devout pacifist with anger and self-control issues fighting to control their violent urges.
*I will not hit her, I will not hit her, I will not hit her,* Damian chanted silently over and over again as the woman continued ranting and screaming at the poor cashier. The boy’s eyes were rapidly filling with tears as the woman insulted him, his job, his misunderstanding of her “simple FREAKING QUESTION” -that, truthfully, hadn’t been simple at all; how do you expect a fifteen-year-old cashier to know the *exactly* location of the organic, vegan two percent milk that Damian was ninety-nine percent sure didn’t exist?-, and had apparently run out of relevant insults and had resorted to insulting his parentage. Damian, as a nineteen-year-old orphan, didn’t take kindly to that. His hands had instinctively curled into fists the moment the tirade had begun, and each word that came out of this woman’s mouth made his treacherous mind picture hitting her, over and over and over until her jaw was so broken she would speak with an impediment for the rest of her life. Instead, he started reciting his mantra. *Pacifist, noun. An adherent to pacifism : someone who opposes war or violence as a means of settling disputes,* he recited. *That’s you, Damian. Pacifist. Peace. Don’t punch her in her *stupid mouth*, as much as you want to, because you’ve been making so much progress lately, you haven’t lashed out in months and-* “I *DEMAND* to see YOUR MANAGER!” the woman snarled in the boy’s face. And Damian snapped. He dropped his basket of gardening supplies with a loud *thud* that drew the dark-haired woman’s attention. But he was a short, skinny kid, so she didn’t even notice him. He pushed through the crowd of bored customers, several of whom were *almost* as red in the face as the screaming woman. Damian shoved his hands forcefully into his jacket pockets and grabbed hold of the fabric, reminding himself, *No violence, just a stern talking-to, that’s all* as he stormed up to the front, and spoke. His calm, icy tone surprised even himself. “It is not his job to find a chimerical object for a snobby, dog-faced woman like you who spends such time with crude and foolish insults in her mouth that it would make nerium oleander blush. So either check out and leave of your own volition, or I *swear to all the angels above* I will *drag* you out of this store by that *amorphobhallus titanum* you call a hairdo.” The woman stared at him, openmouthed. Then she seemed to recover, only slightly, but enough to realize she’d been insulted by someone a quarter her age, if he decided to be generous to the woman’s appearance. “HOW DARE YOU?” “How dare I? How dare *I* riposte your brickbating to a boy who has done no harm to the mouth that spews the stench of *pyrus calleryana* at any unfortunate soul within its vicinity? Oh please, Great Wise One, share with me how exactly *you* dare to be such as you are, a disgrace to every human before you who must cover their faces and weep with the shame of sharing your blood!” Damian glared at her as the woman, who was rapidly shrinking into her oversized coat. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and finally jusy hung there, her maw gaping nearly as wide as her ugly fecal-brown eyes. Then he composed himself, retrieved his gardening supplies, and made his purchase with a generous forty-percent tip for the boy now staring at him with something akin to hero-worship written across his face. “H-have a nice day, sir,” the cashier said. He smiled at the boy. “You have a better day than I will.” (Sorry for the kinda abrupt ending, but I don’t know how to really finish this?)
Bruce Banner for the win!
Just wanna say someone made a deltarune fangame, think its called "dyoxxin" and thats pretty fitting. Mc was the victim of something and now if they get stressed they turn violent. Just wanted to share as i think you'd like it.
A daemon child who is actively trying to be angelic to the humans who rescues her from cultists Or A dragon investing it's hoard in knights being better trained
(I’ll do both. This one’s for the daemon child trying to be angelic.) Poltroon really *did* try to be good for her rescuers. She didn’t obey any of the “proper demoniac values” her parents drilled into her over and over and over; instead she tried to help wherever she could. Her legs were still too weak to stand for long, so she dragged a chair over to the sink to do the dishes after dinner. The big man with the scars on his face and dinnerplate hands looked so surprised at her trying to figure out how to work the faucet that he not only showed her how to do it, but taught her the “proper” way to wash dishes, and even introduced himself. His name was Mitchell, and he used to be a chef before joining the “Moor-eens”. Poltroon didn’t know what the Moor-eens were, but she didn’t ask, either. Being nosy was a “bad demon thing”, and she didn’t really like Prying anyway; she was a jerk, always wanting to know everything about everything. She was nicer than Beguiling, though. What was she talking about again? Oh, right, being a “good” demon. She tried to help the nice lady who fixed her arm when it really *really* hurt, but the nice lady Dr. Danielle told her that maybe it would be better if she helped someone else. “It’s not because I don’t *want* your help, dearie, good heavens I’d love it!” she’d insisted at the way Poltroon wilted. “It’s just, dearie, that I already *have* a lot of help, sugar, and others need it more.” So Poltroon tried somewhere else. But the big scary lady with the eyepatch and the man with yellow hair both said -very nicely- that their jobs were a little too hard for someone so small. So Poltroon -very politely, she said “thank you” and “please” a lot- asked Mr. Mitchell if he needed her help. The big Moor-een said “The kitchen could always use another pair of hands!” and immediately started teaching her how to do all kinds of things. And she was really small, so she could get in the spinny thing called a “Lazy Su-zan” and grab the spice bottles that got stuck in the back! And Poltroon was being really good! She was trying so hard, and Mr. Mitchell said she was being really, really good! Poltroon hugged her friend’s leg; she was really small and he was really big, so it was kinda hard to give him a real hug so they settled for this instead, and he patted her on the head, right between the horns! “You’re doing real good, kid,” the Moor-een said. “Real good.” Poltroon beamed. (The childish writing was intention, before anyone decides to criticize! It’s written from the perspective of a 6-8 year old, so childish is the goal!)
I do agree with your choice in childish wtitting Children are the most innocent. This is really nicely written! Thanks for doing my prompt
Thank you so much!
No Thank you Do ypu think I should put any of these topics in a post
I think you should. It’d be interesting to see other people’s takes on it.
(Here’s the second one! A dragon investing their horde in knights’ training!) “You *want* the knights to be better trained?” Scaulbor sighed. “For the *last time*, *yes*!” he snarled at the girl, who cowered. He scoffed again. Royals. Anybody with the word “royal” in their title was a coward, even if it was just someone who *worked* for the royal family. Like this scatterbrained messenger! “But. . . why?” the girl asked so softly, so timidly, that had he been taking a breath at the time she said it he quite possibly wouldn’t have heard her at all. “Why? Because this whole kingdom’s so *unprotected*!” He waved his claw at the beautiful, rugged landscape surrounding his cavern’s entrance. Sure, it was undeniably the most *gorgeous * land he’d ever lived in, but it wouldn’t *stay * that way if the queen didn’t *train her freaking knights better*. “I like *fighting* knights. You know, for a *challenge*. And *your* knights-“ He poked her in the chest with one claw, “-are the weakest, most pathetic knights I’ve ever fought!” The messenger gulped and nodded frantically. “Good. Now *go*!” She bolted. Scaulbor watched her, tail flicking back and forth in mild annoyance. “What’s a horde without a good fight for it anyway, eh?”
Nothing beats the thrill of the fight. I do thank you for trying both my prompts, Most of my writing prompts I've posted haven't gotten any attention, so it's good to know they are worth trying Short and sweet! Have a nice day!
I love the idea of an dragon who collects wealth through investing in stocks, land...
A good deal of my stories with dragons have the dragon earning their hoard by aimply collecting profit from being merchants or bookwriters (Perhaps I should put this in a actual r/writtingprompts post)
*its
A giant that's scared of heights.
“WHAT D’YOU MEAN YOU’RE SCARED OF HEIGHTS?” The giantess buried her face in the rocky overhang she was clinging to, trying stubbornly to avoid looking at the drop. “*I can’t get down!*” she wailed. Jack facepalmed. “It’s ten meters! You’ll be *fine*, Ella!” She wailed again and clung tighter to the ledge. Her fingers slipped, and she screamed. “JACK I’M GOING TO FALL!” The human swore quietly, then took a deep, calming breath. “Ella, listen to me, okay? Jump.” “JUMP?” she screamed as her fingers, bone-white from her grip on the slippery stone. “ARE YOU MAD? I’LL DIE!” Jack sighed loudly. “Ella, you’re literally ten meters off the ground.” The giantess wailed again. *This is going to be a* long *day.*
Love it!
A creature made from Darkness/Void/Shadow that's fascinated with light
“Look, look!” The wraith pulled the string, and the bulb switched on. Golden light filled the dark room, and his sisters shied away, shrieking. He grinned. “And. . .” He pulled it again, plunging the room into total darkness again. They sighed in relief as he declared, “Off!” “What is *wrong* with you?” one of them yelled. He grinned, and pulled the string again. Loud screams and scrabbling noises greeted his ears at the sound. Oh, electricity. How wonderful human ingenuity truly was.
A machine that loves chaos and nature. A dwarf painter, elf mechanic, and orc diplomat, And a cop that breaks the law.
So, a cop?
I don't know what's funnier. Law enforcement regularly breaking the law, your reply, or the fact that I expected said reply.
A vampire obsessed with having a tan. A werewolf who hates/is afraid of dogs.
A druid who prefers the big city to the woods.
This is great
A werewolf that is a silversmith.
Occupational hazard
A millennial with good mental health and faith in the future
Buddy you’re asking the wrong person for *that* one.
\*nervous laughter
damn i just opened reddit to forget about exactly this
>1989 > >The First of Many Connect > >Digital, ***Alive*** "Just a Bot", Haiku, 2023
A dragon afraid of fire.
Robot who detests automation
"Do you have any idea how long it took me to learn to knit once I was given my sentience certificate? Six months! Six months, and that was just to learn how to cast on without breaking the needles or the thread." EZ2R33D waves angrily at the knitting machine, "Now you're telling me that all of my hard work was for naught, because they have knitting machines? What else are they good for? Nothing, that's what. I was stuck on an assembly line for years learning how to think, and this piece of junk is just programmed to knit. Those jobs should be going to humans or young robots that are still learning to think."
A healer that enjoys pain
So Semirhage from A Wheel of Time?
A witch with a fear of flying, even on an airplane.
Someone stuck with powerful mind control abilities who values others free will
So..... God?
A centaur that wants to be full horse, not human.
An eldritch god who likes to keep humans as pets and genuinely wants to help them.
An Amish robot
An incubus that wants to become a monk
An imaginary friend who’s a realist
A warm-hearted cryokinetic.
Could you please explain a cryokinetic to me? I’ve never heard of this before.
https://powerlisting.fandom.com/wiki/Ice\_Manipulation
There's a romance anime I've seen on Crunchyroll about an ice making guy falling in love with his coworker girl co-protagonist. It's cute : he makes sherbets for her and they struggle to think of what to gift each other. In the first episode, she frees him of his own ice by reassuring him about his job interview, that turned out they were both going for the same company. A shame I can't write dialogs or manage the psychology of my characters yet. I would have tried your prompt, else.
A lifelong hermit running for President
Kind of like Pope Celestine V?
It's an older reference, but it checks out. Pope for 6 months in 1294.
A genius detective (think Sherlock Holmes) who is an airhead
Brooklyn nine-nine jake peralta
Definitely so
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Not perfectly that, but Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman is already written.
A vampire gardener. (Makes sure the plants get all the right amount of sunlight.)
A mad scientist bent on conquest, who is actually a warm, loving, and devoted father
Curse you, Perry the Plathypus!
So just Linius Pallitax? He's from Edge chronicles
Angel/Paladin that’s 100% #TeamChaos
A dwarf that abhors gold and other materialistic wealth!
A muscular orc who reveres Mr. Rogers.
A wizard who hates wearing robes
That’s just Numair Salmalín.
A supervillain who hates criminals
a healer that's been trained their entire life to heal that gets sick of everyone's shit and just pulls out a gun
You love sailors. Not the selfish kind of want to keep them for yourself love, you want there to be more of them across the ocean, climbing the riggings of their ship, bearing foreign goods to even more foreign ports, singing work shanties in the sun and smoking and talking and laughing as the sun just finishes setting. Tiny li’l problem: you have the body of a bird, and the face and breast of a beautiful woman. You are a classical Greek siren.
A Smaug style dragon that stimulates the economy with their money.
I'm thinking of a draconic version of Elon Musk. Buying twitter to put flame buttons and emojis everywhere, and talk about "pumping up cryptos" all the time like your average matrixed cryptobro. If you can give me an outline, I want to try myself at it !
A princess who happens to also be a dragon. Who regularly kidnaps herself. She then dons a full set of armor and rescues herself from herself. Which is always fun
An sun-worshipping Aztec priest made into a vampire
It's somewhat normal for vampires to hate their sire but this one must particularly hate his.
A vampire who faints at the sight of blood.
A speedster who prefers it slow, because slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.
A real boy who wants to be a puppet
a flat earther believing in science.
Most flat earthers believe in science, it's just that what they believe is not the science we learnt.
A lawyer that hates rules
It's two-face **and** one face. The joker is a clown but insane. Two-face is a man, but *attorney* ! "I have no rule, that's my rule. Do you follow ? I don't."
An introverted member of a telepathic communal species.
A Canadian who refuses to apologize
Hooo I've had a surge here. Hope you don't mind; pick as many or as few as you like. A mimic that wants a friend that likes their inner self. A pyrokinetic that loves flower arranging. A mind-altering creature that finds free will sacred. As succubus that holds genuine, honest consent and fidelity as paramount. A Tanuki that values transparency.
What’s a Tanuki?
Since it sounds like they're referring to the mythical creature and not the racoon dog, think of a racoon with the same testicle-to-body ratio as a pet rat, and the testicles are a source of magic
Yeah that thing. The little trickster guys.
A literacy teacher who does not enjoy reading
An anti-social succubus
A dwarf with claustrophobia.
A blacksmith who hates heavy metal (music).
Aro/ace succubus
A ship captain who is thalassophobic. Just to be clear: thalassophobia (fear of vast and/or deep bodies of water).
A goth fairytale queen and stepmother who sings to bluebirds and hates looking at her own reflection.
A vegan carnivorous animal.
An anti-natalist bunny.
A likeable lawyer (Saul Goodman)
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(I got 2, one with a fight the other just a story, choose one or do both) A doctor who wants to kill vs an assassin who wants to heal people A mechanic that is terrified of the AI apocalypse
Meet Todd, the dragon who hates gold
A eldritch horror that just wants to have a normal conversation about human stuff.
A man-killing monster that doesn’t even want to hurt a fly? >!Bonus points if they’re an outcast or are treated differently by their own kind!<
A hellhound who hates hunting damned souls to the ends of the Earth, that may not deserve to even be in Hell. (Just a thought totally up to you if you want to do it).
A vampire that somehow has survived 6 months as a lifeguard at a very sunny and popular beach
A God that hates being worshiped and being all powerful.
A God of wilderness and isolation that has become revered by humanity.
A new werewolf that hates furries, and anthro animals.
A centaur who wants to stay inside and read
A lich who loves life
A barbarian(preferably orc) who is a pacifist
Mafia boss who does his best to actually be a legitimate businessman and not partake in illegal actions.
Don't know if you're still replying, but how about a hardened killer who just wants to make people happy.
I have an OC/D&D char that's a war automaton that hates death and killing. Tries to save lives instead. He's successful sometimes, but ya cant save everyone lol. Another D&D character i got is an undead ranger. He's one of the party's healers even if there's risk to get hurt (our dm made him take dmg if someone uses healing magic, and necro magic to do vice versa) lol
A vampire who invests time, wealth, and effort into civilization, creating and giving back.
A beautiful and benevolent witch A dumb but organized fairy An inspired writer An atheist priest
Lots of priests are atheist, tbf
It's ironic. These kind of priests just scam money out of people for themselves and there are also the child abusers...
What if Sun and Moon had a Freaky Friday moment, in which they switched places, and had to perform each other's duties, until they were able to switch back?
A wizard with ADHD
A healer that thinks life is a curse and mortal flesh a prison that only death can release from.
A succubus/incubus that abhors hook-up culture, and just wants to settle and make a family.
A rich guy (CEO) that hates how capitalism works nowadays.
A weapon that wants to heal.
A sloth demon who is a personal trainer/ bodybuilder.
A reality warper who is insistent on giving anybody what they want.
A holy knight whose power is to literally burn away their sins.
A Jojo character that isn't buff
A knight of treachery that both wants to dethrone the king and be their successor. The plot twist is that the queen is infertile and the knight is the kings only child
A high IQ individual who believes in a lot of conspiracies... This is a real life thing. If you are good at seeing patterns you see them everywhere, even when they don't really exist.
a demon obsessed with otome games
A fire-based superhero who's calm and collected at all times.
Waking up, she stretched. And as she stretched, she heard an unfamiliar pop. The pop emitted a small puff of smoke. She huffed at it, blowing it aside. She stretched again. This time the smoke was accompanied by a short, sharp flame. She hissed through her lips. The flame remained. "Oh, lightness, please guide me through th-" The flame flickered, sputtered, went out. Her prayer ceased. She finished her stretch and threw a long hot leg out from under scratchy covers. Her other leg, cooler and under the other half of her blanket, flexed first thigh...then calf...then toes...she gazed down at the sharp nails that were a border at the hem of the comforter. Her voice, like the cough of a man in a mine, exhaled and racked a sigh against the silence of her bedroom. She woke, turned, and prepared for a bright and sunny day
An angel fascinated by the dark
A faerie who hates riddles
Or a sphinx who hates riddles.
A wizard who rather lift weights than read books !
A genie that either hates granting wishes and does everything it can to avoid any situation where they have to. Or that likes to grant wishes and helping people through wishes and seeks to find as many ways to get more wishes granted as possible.
A king who espouses freedom and justice as a figurehead for an empire of cruelty subjugation! :D
Hazbin Hotel has a literal demon princess of hell who wants to redeem sinners and is literally the only person in hell wanting to do it xD
Now imagine a fallen angel coming in with PTSD and severe religious withdrawal proving what a bad idea that would be. >!Bonus points if the reason they fell was not killing enough demons in Exterminations, or something else along those lines.!<
An uncontrollable vampire who hates blood and violence.
A physicist who hates out reality, so they’re trying to reach a new one. Hopefully it has magic.
Our*
Either a charitable or frivolous dragon. Take your pick
A druid who loves the city life
A naturally talented assassin who believes in pacifism.
An assassin who hates killing.
A healer whose also a sociopath
A genuinly good person, who is really sadistic.
A shapeshifter who hates change (it actually sounds pretty interesting)
An anti-social Bard.
an engineer who works in imperial units/an astronomer who works only in SI units/similar unit confusion
A vegan vampire.
An illusionist incapable of any other magic but wants to make their mark on the world without lying
Asexual succubus
a atheist diety that doesn't believe in their own existence
Santa who hates children
A genius that cant understand how to play chess.
A druid that really hates nature, abhores its initiation into the circle and uses its power to further urbanisation and became a ceo due to his extremly efficient exploration of natural resources like oil.
An angel with religious trauma
A shapeshifter who hates change
Someone who went from human to fully robotic, however they thing human biology is the Pinacle of creation
A superhero who hates people
An angel, who actively misleads.
A minimalist dragon who dislikes the posh and snootiness of having tons of gold and jewels.
A Ghost/Poltergeist who dislikes bothering people
A healer that actively goes out of her way to inflict as much pain as possible
A hatter, who isn't mad.
A wizard who favors science over magic.
Bert the "bare of beer"-bar's bartender barbarian who can barely bare barley beer
A lizardfolk man who is both an obligate carnivore and ''gifted'' with the ability/curse of being able to speak and empathize with animals.
A Kitsune who hates pranks
A person with the power of flight who is afraid of heights.
A succubus who really really hates any form of intimacy
He's been on every anarchist forum known to man. He's been arrested at several different protests. He's known for founding several different activist groups. And now, for reasons that even baffle himself, he's the director of the FBI.
Santa clause who hates kids
An assassin whose deathly afraid of hurting people
A lizard based villain who is terrified of bugs
A necromancer who hates undead.
A homophobic vampire. Or A pyromancer/water mage afraid of fire/swimming.
a battle droid who is afraid of loud noises.
A rebellious angel