MxF Degu of the Corn's Ideas and Cravings

[Degusaurusrex]

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I'll try to make this simple from the start so those of you peering into the abyss can decide if you want to keep going or turn back. I'm looking for low smut stories, favoring damsel in distress themes mixed with violence and drama. I also adore a buildup to fluff. I'll list a handful or random prompts that are up for debate on the specifics and then more in depth plots I've been itching to write. My partner / story preferences are listed below, firstly.

-I don't care what your gender is as long as you can write a male character well.
-Third person, past tense, please. I find it hard to write against present tense.
-Modern day time periods with some rare exceptions for fantasy worlds. I enjoy my modern luxuries.
-Common courtesy to let me know if you're going to be a month or longer on a reply. My reply time can be sporadic so I don't mind waiting, but I appreciate not going three months no contact before I have a hard time getting back into the plot. Just keep me updated and I'm happy to work with you.
-Give me more than a three line reply and I'll return in kind. I don't require a novel of a reply, but I need something to work with.
-No flat out rape or abuse. I'm not here for a bunch of smut so no kink list, 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 before we get into plotting.

Spoiler: Nothing's Fair in Love and War

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

Time Period: Modern day
Location: Amade 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: Something more along the lines of Beauty and the Beast, as opposed to mafia. This would likely (but isn't limited to) be with two humans, perhaps something about settling a debt between two powerful people.

Idea Three: 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.

Spoiler: Wolf Recovery Plot (Couldn't think of a good title)

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: Naya
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. I'm fine with smut down the line since we all know wolves go into heat, but not heavy at first.
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 petplay, 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.

Spoiler: The Fall of Eden

Name: Eden
Species: Human-Demon hybrid
Lineage: Descended from Adam and Lilith
Age: 24

"You'll never live a normal life, Eden."
"Naming me after the garden itself isn't exactly granting me any luck."
"My sweet child, the garden may have fallen when humanity was cast into the new world, but it was once beautiful, a symbol of love.
The demonic line of Adam and Lilith has dwindled down over the years, more hybrids than pure demons existing. Hunted to near extinction by both angels and human fanatics alike, those who remain lay in hiding, fighting to survive or lead a normal life if they do not embrace their demon side.

Moving from place to place each time she was discovered, Eden hides herself away in the darker parts of the city, working less than fancy jobs to keep herself alive. From bartending to cleaning jobs overnight, she skirts by under the radar in small, cash paid apartments. There had been peace, for a time, no beings seeking her death for the last while. It came with the territory of being fathered by one of the remaining demons of old, she supposed.

What I'd like to play against: Either an angel or some sort of human fanatic obsessed with demons. Whether he be on a mission to exterminate them, capture and study them, what have you. I'm personally fascinated with the idea of an angel on a mission, conflicted on exterminating a hybrid that wasn't given a choice in being born with demon blood, but I know that's not for everyone, so I'm open to discussing some sort of human opposite.

Spoiler: Fate is a Fickle Thing

"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: Low
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!

Spoiler: Random Prompts

***Random Plot One: The eldritch god stood before the girl, in almost human form. "Your parents sold you to be my bride. I accepted, knowing that if I don't they will just try another deity, but I will not force this on you. Have this credit card and live as you wish. If you want something else instead, just ask."

**Random Plot Two:
You've been a test subject for all of your life. You don't have any idea what life outside of the lab could possibly be like, but you know the life you have now is hell. Today, you find a possibility to escape this hell of a life. Do you take the chance and experience freedom for the first time in your life, or do you think you're not ready for the outside world? Or worse, might the outside world not be ready for you? (Looking to play the escapee, happy to add supernatural elements)

****Random Plot Three: It is difficult to trigger the true Wrath of a demon, given their nature of being inherently angry. As you(YC) look at your scarred, malnourished and broken young summoner, a familiar red mist begins to descend over your mind. [Particularly craving this.]

**Random Plot Four: You've realized that the genie, if you free her, intends to use her power to rule the world. But you free her anyway because, really, she couldn't possibly be any worse than the people already in charge. [Willing to play either the genie or a human summoning a male genie]

More ideas in following posts.

 

[Degusaurusrex]

Starters from abandoned or discontinued stories I would be interested in using again.
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I cannot for the life of me find the original ad for this one, but the premise is a witch who more or less dislikes her coven is forcing into getting a familiar or be cast out. I'd like the familiar to be something out of the ordinary rather than just a magic fueled crow or black ca t

Spoiler: Starter One

Morrigan's twenty first birthday had crept up much faster than she'd wanted. With each passing day it grew closer to the summoning, to gaining her first familiar that would help her through life. It was almost a nauseating thought. Every witch had her own familiar, and she had watched the interaction between them with interest. Some of the pairings worked rather well, years passing without a problem. Others worked less than civilly, the witch barely able to contain her bond with the familiar. Forcing them into submission as not to upset their tentative relationship.

None of that eased the anxiety she felt for what she was to undertake today. Would it be a ghoul, or a demon? Would they be nothing but a mindless brute, or would they possess some intelligence? Living side by side with a mindless husk of a creature was not an enticing thought, promises of awkward silence and time spent as far from them as she could. Would they listen to her, obey her, or would they rebel and send her into a frenzy of panic?

As the hour grew near, she had dressed herself with shaky hands, opting for casual clothes despite the protests of many. There was nothing they could do, not with her parents long gone and her guardian all but useless. Now that she was past the age of adulthood, she made her own decisions, aside from the summoning. Refusing to accept a familiar would have made her an outcast to her own people, kept her in the world without allies. She was accustomed to living on her own, she'd held a job for a few years now, even owned a small home. The thought of losing her allies and having no backup plan if that fell through, it nearly made her panic. Their threats to cast her out had not been empty, their patience thin after nearly three years of refusal. Most witches gained their familiars by eighteen, but she'd vehemently refused and drawn it out as long as possible.

"Mor." A soft voice came from the doorway as she pulled on her sweater. The gray color made her green eyes pop and her red hair stand out against the bland color, which suited her just fine. She had never been flashy with her outfits, never cared for the attention like the other girls. She was perfectly content to linger in the back, far away from the spotlight. "Morrigan." Her head snapped to the side as she fixed her jeans, focusing on the blonde woman standing there. "Ya ready for this?"

Morrigan let out a forced laugh, shaking her head as she patted down the waves of bright hair. "You know I'm not. If they wouldn't cast me out for refusing it, I wouldn't be doing this. But since I have to, I might as well just get it over and done with. Why, are they out there complaining I haven't come out yet? Did they send you in to check on me?" Her friend gave her a sympathetic look, a bit of guilt in her dark eyes.

"Yeah, sorry. Better me than someone else though, right?" Morrigan barely acknowledged her words as she stared in the mirror and frowned. The woman that looked back at her was anything but pleased, exhaustion etched through her features as she took a step back.

"Yeah, let's get this shit show on the road. I just hope I don't get a mindless brute that's going to be hard to control." She'd seen plenty of those and watched as the other woman snorted with laughter before tugging her from the room. "I'm so not ready for this." Mumbling under her breath, Morrigan nearly balked as she took her first step outside, and then another, and another. The hushed whispers only served to aggravate her anxiety and anger more, but she forced herself across the field. There were so many of them, several dressed in cloaks as though they were living in centuries past.

"Morrigan." Her head turned at the sound of a woman's voice, her lips curling back in disgust. The woman was dressed as though she'd just stepped out of a witch movie, her black dress clinging to every curve. Her black hair was curled to perfection, painted lips red and twisted into a less than genuine smile. "I can't wait to see what you summon, what kind of creature we'll be having around."

"Annabelle." She nodded stiffly at her former guardian. She was surprised Annabelle wasn't sporting a broom and a nose with a wart, with the way she ran through life stabbing people in the back. "You'll not be having anything around, I will." There were more hushed whispers, and she turned away from the prying eyes.

"Fuck this." Ignoring the other witches around her, she prepared her circle and focused on calling forth the magic. It was only a small hum at first, the smell of the earth surrounding her as she intently focused on her task. "Well, time to see what I get." Please don't be an unruly one, please don't be a scary one.

This next one is based off of the "Starved" plot from here. I nipped half the post because it was made exclusive to a certain other character and I only left what would allow tweaking for a new person.

Spoiler: Starter 2

How had her life fallen into such ruin that she'd ended up covered in filth and shackled in a cage made by humans? They were so loud and obnoxious that it hurt her ears as she huddled in the corner of the cage, bound by the collar around her neck and forced into a life of servitude by the man boasting of her sinful nature and attempting to get his money's worth by shifting her to a new owner.

Owner.

Asif she were nothing more than cattle, nothing more than a pet to be beaten when they misbehaved, and used however their owner saw fit. Even the cattle had it better than her, she'd been treated more like a whipped dog that hadn't properly pleased its owner with their behavior. At least the cattle were well tended to so that they provided sustenance for their people. This... Slavery at the hands of human was only pain and torment, and her battered body showed the extent of their malicious deeds as she glared at the filth surrounding her cage. Staring, leering, contemplating as they spoke among themselves on whether she would be worth the price or the hassle.

The chatter of the crowd died down as a loud voice broke through and startled the demoness from her partial trance to escape reality, her head whipping toward the source of it before slitted pupils were honing in on the owner. His eagerness to buy her was made known in the instant agreement with the man's asking price, and the shock of the people around them told her that this new man had been cheated without a care in the world. Neither the cheater or the cheated seemed to care about it, but there was something else drawing her attention now.

The premise for this next one is set in a fantasy world but I'd be more than happy to adjust it to a modern world, honestly, as I actually prefer those. Maybe she was working for the mafia or something of the sort. Tldr; girl gets tired of being abused as a servant and knows her masters keep occult shit in the house, finds books and summons something to try and barter for a way out of her hellish situation.

Spoiler: Starter 3

Enough was enough.

She had endured years of mistreatment at the hands of those in higher stations than her, had scrubbed their homes from top to bottom until her fingers were raw and bleeding, and now they left her to stand outside in the middle of a harsh winter? If she hadn't been worried about being a disposable figure before now, she certainly was at the sight of her fingers turning purple under the attack of frigid air blasting around her. All for what, another stupid meeting as if she hadn't overheard them dozens of times over the course of her life. As if she hadn't heard them speaking of things no one else should know, of magic and demons and all manners of items that would have them swiftly and promptly put under fire by the church should they come to know.

All of this because her mother had passed some years ago and left her to fill the spot she had served in. Do the dishes, wash the linens, clean the floors and make sure every bit of the large home was kept immaculately clean was the occupants dined on lavish meals and left the scraps for the staff employed there. Even the senior maids received less than ideal pay and meals for their troubles, but at least they hadn't been forced to do the worst of all the chores, to be subjected to strikes and odd punishments meant to force her into submission. No, they were happy to be rid of those punishments themselves and allowed the younger woman to bear the brunt, although from time to time the cook would sneak her some of his leftovers and tend to her wounds when they had gone too far.

"It's only temporary, Nessa, someday all of the men who treat us like this will die, and if we're lucky, their sons and daughters will be kinder to us for our faithful years of service."

As if any of that changed the way she had been treated, or the way they had treated her mother when she had fallen ill and then passed on. None of that changed the way that they beat her or left lasting marks on her skin for incomplete or wrongly done tasks because of a small error. Every part of her body ached from the cold as she waited for their meeting to adjourn and the door to open, blasting her with a wave of warm air from inside as her teeth chattered and she looked up at the impatient man standing inside.

"In with you, girl! You've chores to do. Stop making that god awful noise with your teeth and get to it!" The effort of keeping her teeth set together until she was out of view of the older man was almost as painful as the abrupt change in temperature, but the raven haired woman scurried into the house with a brief curtsy that nearly knocked her small frame over, worn shoes pattering up the stairs as she tried to remember the last chore she had been tending to before her impromptu time outdoors.

The laundry needed folding, something that at least kept her near warmth as she took them from drying near the hearth and began to neatly sort them into their proper piles. It was enough to thaw her out after the first while of repetition, but not enough to keep her warm as the evening passed and their moved into the early hours of the night. Her only saving grace was that it appeared the master of the house was leaving for the evening to meet up with some of his other acquaintances for a time, something she neither questioned nor cared about as she silently rejoiced the time away from the man and his kind.

She retired to her room for some time and listened to the sounds around her, the cook doing his last-minute preparations for the next morning, the other maids scurrying around and likely fraternizing with the stable boys now that the master was temporarily out. She listened to it all until the house began to quiet down, covered in darkness before she took a single candle and crept from her room.

The stories of what her master and his friends did had made their way around the home many a time, but they were always hushed or put off as nonsense. Nessa knew better, she knew what she had heard many of times, and she was willing to take a chance that all their talk of magic and monsters had been correct. That there was something bigger than them, worse than them, something that could wipe their existence from the earth with such little effort it would frighten even the strongest of men. She needed something like that to exist, needed it so desperately that she risked discovery by creeping from room to room that she knew the men tended to gather in during their hushed meetings.

It was in one of these rooms that she found the old book, bound in leather with intricate carvings on both the spine and the front of it that her fingers found purchase on. Even touching the book brought a sense of dread to the air around her, something that brought her to open the book rather than shy away from it, her fingers tracing over the different drawings she could see under the flickering candle's light. Depictions of men and monsters, blood and death. Symbols she couldn't dream to understand and words in a language she stumbled over trying to pronounce.

It was the page depicting a man kneeling before a monster that gave her pause, the sheer size and demeanor of the creature giving it such power from the page alone that she knew then and there it was what she wanted, what she needed. All she had to do was take the book long enough to make use of it, then she could return it to its location and no one would be all the wiser. That is, if such things were real and she survived such a task.

She nearly ran into one of the maids on her way back to her room, clutching the book firmly under one arm and shutting her door quietly before whisking it away to her makeshift bed. She had light, she had the book, and she surely had something in her room capable of drawing blood from flesh so she could mark the floor with the symbol depicted on the page. A needle wouldn't do, no, that would only draw a pinprick and she'd have to constantly prod herself to get enough blood. The shears used to cut fabrics when tending to damaged clothing would have to do, and after positioning the open book on her pillow and the candle on the nightstand, Nessa took the shears and drug them over the soft flesh of her wrist. Hard enough to draw a fine line of blood that began to run down her pale skin, but not hard enough to give her a fatal wound that might leave her unconscious on the floor until her untimely demise.

"I seek to make a deal. My soul, in exchange for the help of a devil to rid me of this life." She spoke in a hushed whisper as she knelt on the floor, dragging her fingers through the blood on her arm and tracing the sigil from the page onto the stone until it was sufficiently complete.

"Please work, please let the whispers be true."

The premise of this is more vague, but someone kidnapping the "princess" of the family. I'd be stoked to discuss a mafia vibe to it, maybe an enemy kidnapping her and trying to force an arranged marriage that way or someone who doesn't want peace between her family and one of the others.

Spoiler: Starter 4

November 7

"You can't avoid it forever, Astrid. You must form an engagement, and in the end, a marriage. You are a princess, peace must be made." Making a face at the dark-haired man, she watched him scratch at his beard with a sigh. "I haven't forced you into anything, but it's going to happen sooner or later. You know this. You can't stay single forever." She made another face, watching her father's twist into an expression of frustration.

"Why not? Can't you just try for another kid? I don't want any of this. I'm barely twenty four."

"And that's long past the age you should have been married. I've put this off long enough." Staring at him with narrowed eyes, she let out a huff and turned on her heel.

"I'm getting ready for bed, I don't want to hear anymore of this." Bare feet pattered along the floors as she left the room, going down the long hallway towards where her own was. The entire situation was ridiculous, but her father was right. Eventually she would have to be married off, and unlikely to someone who would only want her to have their children. It was the modern day, who even did arranged marriages anymore?

Slamming the door to her bedroom, she let out several curses. Pampered her whole life, brought up with the intention of the current situation. No freedom, never allowed to leave the walls of the castle without guards. It wasn't much of a life, and friends were nearly nonexistent. The other women were there to care for her, take care of her every need.

Opening up the dresser drawers, she looked through the clothing. She'd been adamant about choosing and wearing her own clothing, and never budged on the matter. Staring down at the selection, she finally plucked a pair of black shorts and changed into them. They were comfortable, and served well for allowing her to breathe, to sleep without overheating from the warming stones. A matching T-shirt went over her head before she crawled under the covers, getting comfortable before closing her eyes. Exhausted from the long argument with her father, from the constant back and forth, she quickly fell into sleep.

She woke with a start to the sound of footsteps pounding around the castle, yelling and curses echoing off the walls. Throwing the covers back and rushing to the door, she cracked it open only to quickly pull it closed. Someone was in the castle, and they weren't friendly. Scrambling across the room, she searched for somewhere to hide. Regardless of who they were there for, she didn't want to get caught in the middle of it. She had no knowledge of how to fight, how to defend herself against enemies. That had always been left up to the guards, and left her quite defenseless in the absence of them.

"No, no, no." Looking wildly around the room, she nearly thought to run for the closet, and had barely reached it when the door thudded open. Whipping around, she stared with wide blue eyes at the person that stood there. The blood that dripped down the dark armor sent panic racing through her, and she backed against the closet door with a look of complete terror etched across her face.

"Are you here to kill me?" Where were her parents? Where were the guards? How had an enemy been allowed to get so far through the castle and to her room?

The next is an arranged marriage to broker peace between demons and vampires on Earth. I'm happy to explain more about the traits and dynamics of demons upon request.

Spoiler: Starter 5

October 10th

"Why does there have to be so many people?!" Nessa hissed in displeasure as she peered through the cracked doors at everyone filling the outdoor benches awaiting her arrival.

"You knew there were going to be this many, Nessa," Silas remained calm at her side but tightened his grip on the arm hooked in his, offering her his usual form of reassurance in the smooth flow of his voice and his constant presence at her side. "The fact that you were able to talk your way into a black wedding dress rather than white was more than I expected in this situation, so you'll simply have to deal with the amount of people here to see you and the leech wed."

Nessa chuckled at the derogatory term so many of her kind used for the vampires, her bare shoulders relaxing slightly as she used her free hand to smooth down the flowing bottom of her dress before taking a deep breath. Silas was right, the fact that she'd been able to sweet talk her way into a lengthy black number with off the shoulder, finely woven lace sleeves was more than she had expected with how set her in her ways her mother could be, but Nessa would be damned if she didn't have some say in her own wedding day.

If only her father were there to walk her down the aisle, but Silas had been her friend for a long, long time and was the only person she trusted to replace her father in this trying time. It was strange to see the darker skinned man without the usual curved slope of his ears, hidden behind an illusion along with her own and her horns, made to look the perfect human princess on this 'glorious occasion' that so many had come to witness. The single thing about the occasion that came close to glorious was the fact that she would finally be out from under her mother's thumb and house, but moving in with her soon to be vampire husband wasn't much of a better alternative. Trading one evil for another... Well, at least this one she could fight without them knowing each of her weaknesses ahead of time.

A lifetime of living under her mother and having the treacherous woman undermine and exploit her at every turn... Well, it was enough to make anyone loathe a parent, and she burned with the intensity of a thousand suns when it came to her loathing for Danica. Calling Danica a mother was a stretch beyond what most people would attribute to the person who brought them life, but fate had given her that wretched woman as a birth giver and now she was paying the price by being sold off to the enemy like a historical broodmare, forging an alliance between their people to hold fast against their common enemies.

"Look, the sooner you get through the night the sooner you can find a corner of his home to stash yourself away in and only speak to him when required, since I know that's exactly what you're going to do." Nessa chuckled at the orange-haired man and gripped his arm tighter.

"You know me too well. Let's get this shit show on the road so I can get a goddamn drink after these ridiculous vows." The blonde took a deep breath and made sure her ornately done braid and its accompanying jewels were properly in place before squeezing her companion's arm tightly, and then they were pushing through the doors and on their way down the flat concrete path that wove between the groupings of benches and ended at a medium sized gazebo that would house the actual ceremony.

"I don't even recognize half of these people." Not that she would have, since she hadn't gone out of her way to meet the network that made up her soon to be in-laws and their accompanying security and other various employees. It was bad enough she was going to be living among them at the end of the night, and the thought sent a spike of panic through her that nearly had her screeching to a halt halfway down the aisle.

"Don't do it. You're halfway there, you can do this. Remember, it's an escape from Danica." Nessa swallowed hard and continued the slow and steady walk until they reached the end of the aisle, her expression torn as Silas released her arm and urged her forward toward the vampire awaiting her arrival.

"Who here gives this bride to be wedded today?"

"I do."

Words she was going to be saying in just a few short minutes.

 

[Degusaurusrex]

This one is based off of a world where lycans are enslaved whenever possible and often forced into fighting rings. One such fighter suffers a career ending injury and ends up being sold off because of it.

Spoiler: Starter 1

"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?

This next one is set in a world where lycans are common knowledge and not well thought of, often hunted. This particular lycan would probably have little experience (or at least good experience) with humans before this event.

Spoiler: Starter 2

October 2nd

It all looked worse than it was, unless she was truly dying. All of the red splattered over white fur gave the illusion of being near death as she limped through the leaves scattered along the wooded area. She had been foolish to venture too close to society, to not have known that there were people who would shoot at her without hesitation the moment they realized she was a wolf. Whether they assumed her to be a natural predator or the species that humans had come to hate so much, the men hadn't hesitated to aim and pull the triggers on their weapons as soon as she'd been within their sights.

The air on the open wound stung as she moved, unable to see past all of the blood to properly inspect herself and see if the bullet had gone cleanly through or simply lodged itself somewhere in her shoulder where it had struck. An unfortunate placement, one that made every step agony as she panted and whined softly while debating her options.

A lack of proper wildlife to hunt and sustain herself on had forced her to venture to unfamiliar places, something that had nearly killed her in her struggle to survive by herself. Had she been part of a pack and protected by others of her own kind she might have not fallen victim to such a fate, but luck had not favored her and now she was in this predicament. She could shift back and try to twist and turn to inspect herself, could try to find some sort of shelter to properly tend to her wounds and hope to find clothing, but instead she was far away from where she'd last taken shelter and stored her few belongings that had gotten her this far.

A part of her wondered if death would have been a more merciful outcome to the bullets. It could have been swift and relatively painless as opposed to the uncertainty of her current situation. If she was caught she would have to make the decision on whether or not captivity was a possibility she was willing to endure, or if fighting to the death would be better than forced into a pet role to some miserable human. She wasn't some docile little lapdog, wasn't a means to an end for some poor old man's loneliness or some overly hormonal young man's urges. She was a beast that happened to hold a human form and some intelligence that rivaled a human's, but she wasn't a plaything to be used at another's whims, and death was starting to seem the better outcome if that became a realistic possibility.

It was cold, the evening chill sweeping about made her shiver as her fur ruffled against it and made the drying blood and its accompanying wound sting all over again. She needed to get the bleeding to stop, needed to at least get somewhere away from the elements to hide herself while she could recover enough to formulate a proper plan of escape and recovery. For that she needed something that protected her from the wind, whether it be a simple den or cave that offered overhead shelter or an abandoned building or cabin inside the woods.

What she found could barely be called a shelter and was dangerously close to entering the actual city, a broken down building that had clearly been abandoned and used only for less than lawful things from time to time. Half of the windows were taped up or broken, the floor covered in remnants of leaves and other assorted garbage that had been tracked in and out by various human occupants over time. Now she was adding her blood to it, smeared paw prints drug through the doorway as she nosed the busted door open and limped inside to inspect it briefly. It wasn't much, but it would protect her somewhat from the wind and give her a chance to lay down and inspect herself a bit more properly than she had been afforded outside.

What she found made her grimace, her tongue swiping over the patches of dried blood as she tried to find the actual site of impact and clean it to the best of her ability. It was an awkward endeavor, one that was accompanied by several growls and huffs of annoyance as she found the task overly exhausting and sapping at the remaining energy that she had left. How long had she been walking for before she'd found this place? Was she far enough away from any of the humans that would seek to murder her if they found her injured as she was?

Her fate had been left uncertain as the sun began to sink below the skyline, casting shadows over the marks she had left throughout the woods and hopefully granting her a reprieve to rest in the corner of the dilapidated building.

This next one's a bit different from my normal damsel themes. Dating assessments and matches in an open world where different species exist. It was originally set for MC to end up hitting it off with the person trying to matchmake her with her given assessment but I'd be happy to tweak it where she goes through the assessment and ends up on a blind date with whoever they matched her with.

Spoiler: Starter 3

July 16

"Come on Lina, what harm could it possibly do?" The red skinned woman looked uneasily at the other, rolling onto her back with a loud groan. "Oh, don't you make that sound at me! You've been divorced from that asshole for months now, you might as well try dating someone that didn't try to flirt with you at work." Holding up a middle finger at the chattering woman, Lina groaned again before sitting up.

"But seriously, a matchmaking service? Does that stuff actually work?"

"You're the one that told me several of your customers got good results from it." The other demoness was right, but it wasn't helping to get her moving. The last thing she wanted to do was date another demon, but even with the other species available, what chance did she actually have of finding a good match? "I think you should just try it out, honestly. I almost did it myself, before, well," She grinned down at Lina, flicking the irritated woman with her long tail.

"Get your ass up and get ready before I drag you by your tail." Lina pulled herself from the bed with a huff, returning the flick with her own tail before opening up the closet. "And don't look like a total slut, you're going for dating, not fucking." She let out a low growl, nearly wrenching the door off its hinges before she spun around.

"Alright, that's it! Get out of my house, now! Now, now!" Shooing the giggling demoness away, she threw her hands up before returning to the clothes. The other was right, but the commentary had been incredibly unnecessary. The question was, what did she wear? She had so many clothes it was ridiculous, but no idea what to wear for an interview to a matchmaking service. Did she try to dress nice? Did she go casual?

"Ah, hell." Shaking her head, Lina moved to the dresser and began opening up the drawers, plucking out item after item with unsatisfied grunts. "No, no. Oh for—Forget this!" Giving up on finding what she would deem the perfect outfit, the demoness settled for a pair of boot cut blue jeans. They worked well enough to draw attention to her curves without fully displaying everything. A black tank top went on over her bra before she struggled into sneakers, hopping around the room before finally getting them on.

Thundering down the stairs to her living room, she searched around for the necessities before finding them. Wallet, phone, keys, and a light jacket and she was out the door. The actual drive into town was nerve wracking, her hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel until she'd finally arrived and parked the car.

"I can't believe I'm actually going to do this.." Staring up at the tall building with a shake of her head, she yanked the key from the ignition and pocketed it. A quick look in the mirror to secure her ponytail, and she was pulling on the jacket and exiting the car. The other demoness was right, what was the worst that could happen? Even as she repeated it internally, she nearly balked at the main doors before forcing herself inside.

Down the hall, around a corner, and up the elevator, her heart pounded treacherously in her chest. Many of her customers swore by the service, several of them even married because of it. Then again, most of those customers were human, so it was an entirely different situation for them. How did a five-foot three demoness find someone to take her seriously and keep up with her?

With another shake of her head as she reached the door to her destination, she gripped the handle and yanked it open. The force nearly sent her reeling backward, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the overexaggerated movement. Classy. Approaching the desk with a twitch of her nose, she leaned against the counter and smiled at the receptionist.

"Hi! I'd like to see if there's any openings to set up an assessment?" Golden eyes flitted around, taking in the different posters on the walls. The place was pristine, everything placed perfectly in a way that was almost intimidating. "I probably should have made an appointment, but I didn't want to end up backing out." She gave the woman a sheepish grin. "Any chance I can get in on such short notice?"

A violent lycan the "shelter" is trying to adopt out, set in a world where lycans are clearly known about captured/"rehabbed" before being sent off to new "owners". Ah, I miss my violent girl. I would very much like this to be someone either on site when this happens who's intrigued and says "fuck it I want that one" and NOT any type of "I want to break that one" deal. Not my thing.

Spoiler: ******Starter 4; Azariah

"We're never going to be able to adopt her out."

"What if we drop the price down and use the excuse of trying to home the ones that have been here longer? She's at least pretty.. When she's not trying to rip your face off. Thank god for that collar, I heard what she did to the men that brought her in when they first caught her."

"Who's in charge of feeding her today, anyway?"

"Dave, the poor bastard. He's still afraid of her after the last time he went near and she dug her claws into his sleeve. Keeps himself several inches away from the cells now, even from the docile ones that have a better area. Her? Nah, the bitch can stay in that little cell until someone takes pity on her. Fuck if I care."

"Talking about Azariah?" One of the men walking past the break room paused and backtracked before sticking his head into the room. "She get someone again?"

"She'll get Dave if he's not careful, but I wouldn't put it past him to come up with some excuse to go home sick before it's time to feed her. Hell, she got John to quit last week when she tore his leg open through the fuckin' bars!" The room was filled with a mixture of laughter and horror at the thought of having to be the one to tend to the Lycan in any manner. She had gotten quite a reputation since first arriving at the shelter some many months ago, and between her initial introduction that had left them bleaching an entire floor to clean up the blood, her multiple escapes; both successful and not, and her treatment of the workers now. The creature simply refused to be tamed, and as such was currently a filthy mess of tangled hair and sharp teeth.

As luck would have it, for the men discussing the Lycan, Dave did not leave early, and stood shaking in his boots as he stared down the side hall that housed the Lycans that had yet to be tamed enough they'd moved into the larger, nicer cells closer to the front of the facility. Everything had to be kept immaculate, after all, and so the less well behaved creatures were kept more toward the back where less people tended to wander. Every once in awhile someone came trekking back to see what the fuss was all about, how wild the wolves truly were to be kept away from the first hall that displayed the ones eagerly awaiting adoption. Grinning, panting, they'd have been waving their tails if not for the collars kept around their necks!

"Buy you a beer tonight if you get her fed without a problem."

"Oh, shut the hell up, I'm just going to open the slat long enough to shove the tray through and then leave. She's not going to get me again, I ain't opening the big door like an idiot. I can't believe no one told me about that last time!" The man made his way slowly down the hall, clearly cautious and still a bit unsettled from his last encounter with the female wolf. While the silver collar around her neck did stop her from shifting into her lupine form, it didn't stop her nails from turning into claws, and it didn't stop her sharp teeth from being able to tear flesh.

"Believe it when I see it." Three workers stood down the hall from where Dave was approaching one of the cells, two middle aged men and one of the females that had just recently started training to deal with the ferals. They watched in silence, holding their breaths in anticipation as he approached the cell and looked inside.

The woman inside appeared to be sleeping, half sprawled on the cot inside and half on the floor midst a tangled mane of hair. Her eyes were closed, an arm draped over them as she dozed lightly despite all of the noise surrounding her. She'd been at the facility long enough to learn to tune out noise, but when Dave approached her cell directly one of her pointed ears twitched, and as soon as she heard the slat open she rolled off the cot and to her feet.

"Oh, shit." She couldn't have possibly cared less about the food now that he was there. For all of the whining he did about being injured by her, he'd left out the part where he'd banged loudly on her cage to wake her, where he'd kicked at the bars when she got close enough to reach. No, it was all about the blood she'd drawn and how terrified he was of her. Good, the bastard deserved it, and he definitely deserved this.

"Shit, Brian, get her off!" He had made the mistake of getting too close to the bars, and the consequence was her latching onto his arm, digging her nails deep into the flesh as her teeth snapped at him. "Brian! Get over here and do something! Tranq the bitch, I don't care, just get her off before she tears my fuckin' arm off!" She'd tear his throat out if she had her way, her teeth snapping as she tried to force him flush against the bars so that she could sink those sharp fangs into him.

"Tranq? Just get the goddamn gun, put her down! I don't care if there's people here, deal with that later. If you don't shoot her she's gonna try to tear out his throat. She hates him." Damn straight she'd try to tear out his throat. She already had her claws latched onto one of his arms and had tugged him back against the metal bars, her other hand sinking into the opposite shoulder to place him as a barrier before her and the men approaching with their guns drawn.

"Don't shoot her, boss'll have your hide if you do that without his permission."

"Sorry, Dave, this is gonna hurt. Beth, get the medics on the radio and let them they're gonna need to stitch him up and probably do a transfusion."

Azariah snarled as she felt the man leave her clutches, leaving her hands soaked in his blood as it dripped down the bars to the cell and joined the large puddle already on the floor. She had been so close to finally tearing out his throat, so close to making sure he never came near her again or taunted her, and they'd stolen him from her!

"Get him to the medics, and for fuck's sake, someone get the boss here so we can get the okay to put her down already!" They left her alone in the cell licking the blood from her claws, well, they were fingers now, and staring at the mess dripping down the hall as they drug off the heavily bleeding man.

"Ah, hell, don't let the customers see him—Shit, just get him out of here as fast as you can so we can get this mess cleaned up.. Fucking hell."