Writing Prompt #1
Writing prompt #1
‘It was one hell of a way to die’
They say human beings aren’t fast enough to dodge a bullet.
That the force of that tiny metal shot out is enough to break bones, to physically incapacitate.
That with one shot at the right place, a human person would die instantaneously.
They weren’t wrong.
With just one loud bang, I find myself on my back, staring at the clouds as they made their way through the bright blue sky.
I was walking with my partner, the small part of my brain reminds me. The part that had slowly began to lose strength.
I was walking, I remembered, and I was laughing. I was watching the light in their eyes shine as they chuckled with me, and I was happy.
How did I get here?
My partner and I had gone through so much. We’d battled so many monsters, broken through so many obstacles, faced so much pain.
Finally, finally, we were about to have our happy ending.
With the last bit of strength that my dimming mind had, it pushed to me a small memory.
A memory of sitting at the edge of a stone platform. Of swinging legs, of comforting winds, of a brilliant sunset sky.
A memory of soft contentment, happiness, and hope.
We’d been talking of how we’d like to die, if we had a choice.
They had said peacefully, surrounded by loved ones till the very end, then cremated to have their ashes buried somewhere special.
I’d grabbed their hand and swore that, if they’d died first, I would ensure that was what happens.
The kiss that followed upwards nearly killed me then and there.
They’d asked me, soft curiosity glittering in their gaze, what would be my preferred way to die.
‘I don’t know,’ I’d said. ‘But when I go, I want there to be no pain. I want everyone to be glad when I leave, because it’s my time, and I’m finally getting that eternal peace.’
To me, it felt like a good way to die.
After all I’d been through, I figured I’d at least get to decide how I die.
As my partner’s face appeared in my swimming vision, I realised there were tears streaming down their face. They were screaming at me, holding me in their hands and shaking me.
There was so much pain on their face.
Right then, I knew I could not die. I couldn’t-
I will not.
Not like this.
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Y’all quick question
I was thinking about vine the other day and I was wondering what were your experiences.
What was the vine that introduced you to vine?
Like, mine was ‘Road work ahead (yeah I sure hope it does’. Saw it being quoted over the internet a few days before I got introduced to vine.
op this is such an astounding idea. oh my god. someone write more about this before i do it myself-
Recalibrate (The Mandalorian)
What if Grogu’s been doing the “These are not the droids you’re looking for” thing to Din this entire time?
Gen. 275 words
***
Grogu’s been nudging Din’s mind with the Force to make him more inclined to feel protective of him since the moment IG-11 was about to shoot him.
The spell breaks a bit after Grogu is incapacitated by the effort it took to rescue Din from the Mudhorn, which is why he’s able to trade the baby for the camtono of Beskar. But that lingering look Grogu gives him as the pram is led out of the room by Dr Pershing? That’s Grogu saying You will not leave me here, and hoping it’s strong enough to stick.
So Din can’t stop thinking about the kid. Breaks Guild protocol by asking what will become of him. Puts his Covert at risk by going back for him and goes on the run for months with him. And the rest is history.
But maybe, eventually, Din has a moment of clarity. He stops in the middle of what he’s doing one day and looks around at the modest collection of baby stuff he’s accumulated inside the Razor Crest. It’s so incongruous to the way his life used to be that it momentarily pulls him out of it.
He blinks down at the baby in his arms like he’s coming out of a dream. “What… what am I doing?”
But then Grogu waves his little hand at him, cooing—Don’t think about it! We were about to get lunch, remember Dad?—and Din just stares at him for an unbearably long moment, helmet inscrutable, as Grogu wills his brain to reset back into Parent Mode.
Until finally Din sighs, “Right… lunch time,” and Grogu knows it worked.
And that’s that.
“There’s a service dog among us”
“I didn’t see a Mandalorian when I found you…” Master Skywalker drifted off.
Grogu didn’t fill the silence.
Yep, ‘what he would’ve wanted’ has been updated and more pain has been whipped out on a silver platter. Plot happens in this chapter. Feelings happen in this chapter.
Lots of things happen in this chapter.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909794/chapters/71283183
Squishy faces 🥰 by lyo.thecat
I take in a deep intake of breath, pressing my palms flat against each other. “Okay,” I say. Point towards a youthful face that stared back at me with wide eyes. “You’re me.” My finger flicks toward the other face that stared at me. “And you’re me, too.” My fingers interlock with one another, press firmly against my forehead. “And you’re all here, in my room...why?” Future-Me and Younger-Me exchange a quick glance. Or rather, Future-Me glances towards Younger-Me, as Younger-Me is having way too much fun with my phone. “Universe likes to mess around,” Future-Me finally manages to say. I groan and lean against the headboard of my bed. “Right,” I mumble. Rub my eyes. “That makes sense.” My gaze gets drawn back towards Younger-Me. That childlike innocence. That optimistic hope. They had the whole world wrapped around their little finger - and they had no idea. No idea. Clueless, to what was coming. My eyebrows furrow. I lean forward, my mouth open and- Future-Me stops me by holding a palm out to my face. They meet my gaze, shaking their head. “Don’t,” they say. “You can’t do it.” I straighten to give Future-Me an incredulous look. “They don’t know what’s going to happen,” I say. “Neither did you,” Future-Me reminds. “That’s why they happened.” “I can stop it.” My fingers clench. “I can warn them-” “In the unlikely event that they even understand you,” Future-Me interrupts. “Changing the future can be devastating.” My teeth ground against each other and I glance away. Future-Me was right, and I knew it. As much as I hated knowing, as much as every fibre of my being wants to shake Younger-Me and tell them all the signs to look out for- I can’t. A hand rests on my shoulder. I glance back up, meeting Future-Me’s sympathetic gaze. “You’re angry,” they say. “Wound’s still fresh, huh?” I wince, then sigh. “Somewhat,” I mutter. The hand on my shoulder tightens slightly. “They have to go through what we went through,” they remind me. “They have to learn what we learnt - which means that they will have to meet Her.” Another hand rests on my other shoulder. Turns me around so I fully face my ten-years-in-the-future self. “They’ll get hurt,” Future-Me murmurs. Gives Younger-Me a sorrowful glance. They sigh, then glance back up at me with a hopeful smile. “But they’ll survive. Just like we did.” I stare into my own eyes for a while, then sigh and nod acceptance. “I know,” I murmur. Give Younger-Me my own glance. “I just can’t- can’t help but worry.” Future-Me chuckles. “Oh yeah, you never really stop.” “Is that a general thing or are you being specific to me?” “I can’t tell you,” Future-Me wags a finger, “just like you can’t tell Younger-Us.” I huff, annoyed. Then sit still, my eyes widening. A hopeful glance back towards Future-Me. “Does this mean the future’s good enough not to risk?” I ask. Future-Me meets my gaze and smiles; amused. “Maybe.” A lonesome chuckle spills past me. “That’s probably the best thing I’m getting,” I mutter. Future-Me wraps an arm around my shoulder and draws me into a half-hug. “I knew you’d come around,” they tease softly. Our attentions are both drawn back as Younger-Me releases a short giggle of laughter. The smiles on all our faces mirror one another. “What’re you doing?” “Playing!” “Are ya winning?” “Yeah!”
prompt 1394
Write a story that has three characters: yourself ten years ago, yourself now, and yourself ten years from now.
A part the ‘what he would’ve wanted’ wip I’m working on rn because this chapter is taking a while and I need to feed the wolves. See if you can guess what’s going on!
He didn’t know what he was expecting, couldn’t understand how he hoped for the same mechanic that had helped his buir all that while ago. What, that after all this time she’d not only still be here, but would also be in the hanger his teacher had chosen at random?
Please. He remembered how the other Younglings would hate it if a story melded perfectly for the character’s usage. ‘He has stupid plot armour!’ they’d cry out. ‘It makes no sense!’
Fool him twice for thinking he had plot armour.
I just thought it was funny :)
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