WritingPrompts

Title	Upvotes	Mark as read	Favorited	Rating	Add to a list
[WP] Tired of you fourteen year old’s stories about their dragon friend, you declare that it’s time to grow up. To prove your point you poke under their bed with a broom. You are greeted by the snarl of a pissed off dragon.	1112
[WP] At your 21st, you are egged in by your mates to try a flaming shot. As you knock it back, a tiny flame darts down your throat, lighting a fire in your lungs. The dragon soul in you is now awake.	522
[WP] The most revered mechanic in the entire star fleet. Their toolbox contains only three things: a screwdriver, can of WD40, and a roll of duck tape. They a never had an issue they couldn’t fix.	510
[WP] Depressed after your engagement broke off, you throw the ring into the bonfire of memories proclaiming your love to the eternal warmth of the flames. “I have seen your heart, and I accept.” says a voice from the flames, followed in short order by an elemental fire dragon.	474
[WP] Born to a necromancer and an alchemist, you take to both as a duck to water. And now on your workbench lies the first chunk of Mordite. The raw essence of death itself.	350
[WP] You wake up after you get black out drunk with a massive hangover and dragon tattoo on your left arm. You rub it disbelievingly. A snarl, a growl, and you are staring down a dragon in your living room and the worst hangover known to man...	295
[WP] “I told you to take out the bloody dragon!!” “Yeah, we had dinner and watched a play. She’s quite charming actually… Pity about the amphitheatre though.”	286
[WP] “War crimes?” Groans the In’glor’th academic reading up on the Geneva convention. “You lot not only fight yourselves to death, you have rules on what part of it is illegal?”	253
[WP] “I don’t care if your singing skill is ‘bad enough to raise the dead,’ that’s not how you do things!!!” Yelled the chief necromancer at the newest recruit, a bard.	249
[WP] You hold one of the very few bags of requirement. Every day when you wake, you pull one weapon most suited to the day’s fighting. Today, you feel a rocket launcher clamp down on your arm. It reads: “Hellfire express. No reloading necessary. Compliments of Circle 9.”	171

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