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I’d be down to play Game #1 if anyone’s got title suggestions :)
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Choose a title or let your followers send you some in. Write a short drabble or a full story with that title. What is the first idea that comes to your mind?
+ if you take the same title and write completely different stories/different genres with it
Let your followers send you the titles and then create a short summary for what a potential story would be about.
Choose one title for every letter in the alphabet from these lists and fill them or let your followers pick characters for you to write a story for each title with. (Inspired by evilwriter37)
Here are all the titles|Here are more Writing Games
interested in writing a second part to a short togachako fic i wrote?
i dont really plan on doing anything with this piece so i think it'd be really fun to see people's takes on how to continue it! like a super low pressure writing game
if you do participate, pls tag me or reblog so i can see your contribution!! even if its just a few lines!
the fic is a loose play on frankenstein with some adam & eve elements thrown in (and the unnamed girl is ochako)
have at it! :)
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Toga was a bloodied thing, she knew.
She was born with cold metal kissing her bare skin and electricity shrieking down her spine. Her first breath- a choking, cut-off scream- was not even her own, the memory too tightly braided with the boom of Dr. Garaki's laughter in his small laboratory.
I made you, he had explained, pain still ringing oddly in her skull.
She had been made, not born, and no one loved to remind her of this fact more than Dr. Garaki himself.
Pet, he called her, grinning indulgently in his tall, wingback office chair. The reflection of his glasses shone like fire. Like the spark that had jolted her alive.
I made you, he’d say. I made you.
But what am I? Toga would ask, twin pinpricks of too-sharp teeth digging into her too-wide lips while she fumbled out the words, warmth dribbling from her rosy smile.
Dr. Garaki did not like this image, nor the question.
You are my creation, he’d snap, the floor rumbling with the force of his rise from the wingback chair. Do you not trust me, pet?
Toga would watch the sky flash outside the dark windows of the laboratory and nod, nod, nod because she did not know what she was but she knew punishment well.
All Toga knew was punishment and Inside.
The Inside of the laboratory, which smelled faintly of the coins that slipped between uneven couch cushions, and the Inside of Toga- drawn from her own disordered lips- red as plush velvet and twice as sweet.
Good, Dr. Garaki would say from behind his wide, unbreachable desk. Now behave.
Behave, behave, behave.
This word buzzed around Toga’s head like the constant drone of heavy machinery in the lab. It followed her when she closed her fists around home-smelling coins, retrieved from their hiding places late at night, and when she draped her goose-bumped body in the off-limits, grass-green curtains, and, louder still, when she peered out of small, dirt-smeared windows, asking after the word for grass.
Red had leaked from her cheek, then, bursting forth from the skin by the rings adorning Dr. Garaki’s punishing hand. But the word had slipped out as he’d shouted.
Toga’s tongue had darted to the corner of her mouth and she’d imagined the word blooming over her tongue- swallowed and safe within herself.
Yes, Toga knew of Inside well. She craved the taste of Outside, now.
Outside she saw a girl with red flowers in her hand, picked from the border of Dr. Garaki’s property, and high on her cheeks laid a dusting of soft-petalled blush.
Toga had never known the color red could be so gentle.
Toga longed to be picked from the laboratory like the thorned stems in the girl’s steady hands. To be lifted up. To be held.
“You’re not supposed to be looking through there,” Twice whispered from over Toga’s shoulder. “It’s bad.”
Toga gnawed on her bottom lip, drawing red to the surface until she matched the roses being carried further and further from the laboratory.
“Why?” she asked.
Toga didn’t know who she was asking- Twice, the disappearing girl, or the flowers?
Twice was the only one to respond.
“Because Dr. Garaki said it’s bad,” he reminded her nervously.
Toga watched the girl’s form begin to blur on the horizon.
Twice shook her shoulder and Toga’s gaze slipped to the touch, observing the firm boundary between Toga and Twice. His fingers held the same shape as Dr. Garaki’s- more same than Toga’s- yet held none of the anger. Only urgency.
“How come Dr. Garaki gets to make all the rules?” Toga asked.
Twice’s hand slipped away like the question had bitten him, and, Toga thought to herself, maybe it had. With Twice’s same-enough hands he could cradle lessons from Dr. Garaki on how to name the objects in the laboratory. His scratching fingers could be gently pulled away from his seams. He could hold close the smiling shape of son on Dr. Garaki’s lips.
Twice held the honor of being made same-enough while Toga’s hands and heart and smile were wrong, wrong, wrong.
Pet, Dr. Garaki said, teeth glistening behind a simper. Filthy-
“Mr. Garaki wants what’s best for us,” Twice said, twitching on the last syllable and scratching the ragged line carved down his forehead.
“Does he?” Toga questioned.
How do you know? she wanted to ask. She craved his certainty with a desperation that left her Inside chest pounding hard against the firm line of her Outside body.
Twice twitched.
“I trust him.”
The dull roar of the laboratory seemed loud today, and Toga felt restless.
“Do you trust?” Twice asked.
Toga’s mouth quivered and she turned her gaze back to the small window. The girl was gone now but she would be back tomorrow.
Toga flinched as the door slammed open and Dr. Garaki appeared a moment later.
Pet or-
“Filthy woman,” Dr. Garaki muttered, striding forward to yank the green curtain from Toga’s body. The view of Outside disappeared.
Toga shivered.
“Don’t you know your shame dirties you?” Dr. Garaki continued, staring at the Outside of her body.
Could he see the Inside?
Toga desperately hoped that he couldn’t.
“It’s unbecoming of my creations,” he stated before spinning on his covered foot to stride through his office door, a box of rattling machine parts held in his arms.
Toga’s trust in Dr. Garaki was as brittle as the vase she had tipped over the other day, fascinated by the sound it made when it hit the floor. Left in a puddle of red after Dr. Garaki had found her.
Inside herself, Toga said, I do not trust Dr. Garaki, and shame bloomed hot and heavy in her chest.
She felt like the vase, one breathless moment before it shattered.
“Toga?” Twice whispered, eyes drooping with concern.
“It’s cold,” Toga whispered.
Twice fidgeted for a moment, his nails hesitating a few inches from his sewn-together face. After a furtive glance towards Dr. Garaki’s closed office door, he gave into the urge to scratch, leaving raking, red lines across his Outside.
“I know,” he murmured. “Do I? I…yes. I know.”
Toga blinked away the blurry heat gathering in her eyes and reached out with her not-same-enough hand until it rested on Twice’s knee.
Slowly, she ran her hand up and down one length of his leg. Then faster.
Twice stared.
“See?” she whispered. “It makes warmth.”
“I…” Twice peeked over his shoulder, towards the door Dr. Garaki had disappeared behind. “…see. I see. I do.”
Toga removed her hand and watched Twice repeat the action for himself.
Toga turned back to the green curtain, looking in the place she knew the window lived, and began rubbing warmth back into her arms as she imagined the girl.
I trust her, Toga decided.
And how lovely was it for there to be a her that wasn’t Toga? A her that Toga might be same-enough for.
Dr. Garaki cursed the Outside people but Toga bit her lip and danced with the idea that the girl from Outside might see Toga- red as the roses she always returned to- and pluck her, instead.
And then maybe Toga could live how she wanted to. Cursed or not.
Well, I ended up writing a little something for myself for this prompt which has now spawned an entire fic... Please enjoy chapter 1, posted below! The rest of the fic will be up over the next week or so and can be found here on ao3.
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The first time Rook kissed Lucanis, it was unexpected. She’d put one hand on his cheek and leaned over, landing a sloppy kiss on his cheekbone, just below his eye. They were both drunk, as were Neve and Bellara. The four of them had been trading stories over a bottle of wine. One bottle turned into two, and two quickly progressed to three, and three… begot a kiss.
Lucanis hoped he wasn’t blushing. Bellara laughed and pointed, reiterating the obvious: Rook was very drunk, and Lucanis was very surprised. Neve glared daggers. Lucanis wasn’t entirely certain why. They’d flirted, sure, but nothing was spoken for at this point. Spite roared in his brain.
TELL. HER. SHE NEEDS. TO. KNOW.
Lucanis met Rook’s gaze, enraptured by her shining green eyes, and not for the first time. Some invisible force behind her gaze tugged at his breastbone, and he watched Rook’s eyes widen as he leaned in. Her lips parted, and she gasped softly, drawing his gaze downward. Mierda. He wanted to kiss her. Badly.
Lucanis’ eyes flicked back up to Rook’s and the intensity of her gaze struck him to stillness. Did she want to kiss him too? The way her gaze roved over him, searching and hungry, made him believe so.
Now. Tell her. NOW.
Lucanis opened his mouth, but in the same moment, the reason he could not tell her anything walked through the door.
“Drinking without me?” Davrin asked, his voice as smooth as silk and as deep as the ocean dared dwell. Rook shot up immediately, the spell between them shattering into a million pieces, and flittering off into nothingness like the end of a shooting star. It blazed hot, when you could see it, but it was intangible once the moment had passed.
She fluttered over to Davrin, her long curly hair bouncing with every step. Lucanis grimaced as his friend lifted Rook up, spinning her around before kissing her forehead once he’d placed her back on the ground. They were a good match. Lucanis pretended he was happy for them.
We could KILL him. Easy. POISON in soup.
No.
You COOK. You ASSASSINATE.
No!
What if there was. A CONTRACT.
“Oh, shut up…” Lucanis murmured with a sigh before rubbing his forehead.
“That’s rather rude,” Neve quipped. Lucanis raised his head, confused. Neve continued to glare daggers at him. “All Rook asked was if you wanted another drink.”
Lucanis flicked his gaze over to Rook. The concern in her eyes made her look suspiciously sober, but the way she wavered at Davrin’s side, prompting the other man to loop a steadying arm around her shoulders, betrayed her intoxication.
“My apologies, I wasn’t talking to you, Rook. Spite was…” Lucanis searched for the right words, not willing to allow his friends to be privy to Spite’s foolish suggestion. Finally, he settled on, “…being rather loud.”
Rook grinned, an adorable, lopsided twist of her lips in her drunken state. “Well, maybe Spite needs another drink.”
YES.
“No,” Lucanis said firmly, and resisted another sigh. Resolutely ignoring Spite’s protests inside his head he continued, “On the contrary, I think Spite and I have had a bit too much to drink. I will take my leave.”
“Noooooo Lucaaaaanis,” Bellara whined drunkenly. “You can’t leave yet.”
Lucanis rose to his feet and took a second to let the world right itself before he stepped away from the chairs in the library. He called on all his discipline and dexterity to look less intoxicated than he felt and avoid tangling his legs on the table that sat between them, strewn with glasses and empty bottles of wine.
“I’m sorry, Bellara. I’ve had enough for one night.”
“Ooookay but just wait,” Bellara said cheerfully and shot up from her chair. She stumbled over to him, likely intending to give him a goodbye hug, but accidently launched herself into his side when she tripped on the low table he’d so painstakingly avoided. Lucanis caught her without too much trouble, but he staggered a bit, just barely managing to keep his feet under them both.
“Sorry, whoa-“ Bellara said, wobbling all over again the instant Lucanis righted her into a standing position. This time Davrin stepped forward, taking her other arm. She let out a peal of laughter and Rook’s infectious giggles joined Bellara’s, the humor of Bellara’s disequilibrium obviously enhanced by the alcohol bubbling through their veins. Rook’s laughter was a beautiful sound; Lucanis couldn’t help but stare. The way Rook’s whole face lit up with joy, her eyes scrunched into adorable crescents, cheeks round and rosy… Mierda. He couldn’t keep thinking these things.
“I should be going,” Lucanis said, leaving Bellara in Davrin’s capable hands. He bid his goodbyes and made a quick exit from the library, managing to stay upright without too much effort. He just had to make it to his quarters. The walk wasn’t long. This he could do. Spending time with Rook… especially Rook and Davrin… that was something he was going to need to work on.
TELL HER.
He couldn’t. It was better this way. Rook deserved better.
But. You CARE. About her.
That didn’t matter. He didn’t deserve Rook. He’d only entangle her in his mess.
WHAT. MESS.
Lucanis scoffed. The Crows. The Ossuary. The mess that was a demon inside his head.
But I CARE too. About Rook.
“It doesn’t matter,” Lucanis murmured to himself as much as to Spite. “She made her choice. And it was the right one. We… we are the wrong choice.”
LUCANIS IS. STUPID.
Lucanis rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered under his breath, staggering up the steps to the elevated courtyard. When he reached the top step, Lucanis sighed in relief, only to lose his footing instantly, his boot slipping on a particularly smooth stone.
Luckily, a pair of lithe but strong hands wrapped around his arm, saving him from a rather unfortunate fall onto the stone walkway.
“Careful darling.”
Lucanis sighed. “Neve.”
Neve looped her arm around his and helped him towards the dining hall at the far end of the courtyard, where his quarters lay. “We all had a bit too much to drink. Just wanted to make sure you made it back okay.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Lucanis told her, shaking his head and then regretting it, as the world seemed to spin a little to the left.
“No, but I wanted to,” Neve replied, her voice light and hopeful. Lucanis frowned. This was a mess too. He’d started something flirty with Neve and he’d intended it to remain casual. It seemed she may want more than that.
“You deserve better, you know? She doesn’t get to demand your affections, not after she’s chosen someone else,” Neve said, turning up her nose as if the notion itself was distasteful to her. Lucanis and Spite both bristled, defending Rook immediately.
“She demands nothing.” He couldn’t tame the sharpness from his tongue, and it shamed him. While he did not deserve Rook, he had enough scraps of self-worth left to know how pathetic he must sound, defending her to Neve.
“Well then, how do you explain tonight?”
“I have… lingering feelings. That isn’t Rook’s fault.”
“Still,” Neve said, pausing outside of the dining hall before letting go of his arm. “Perhaps it’s time to find a new focus for your attentions.”
Lucanis’ frown deepened. He should have known this was coming. He’d never intended for anything serious between them, and he regretted if he’d given her the wrong idea. He tried to put her off.
“Look, Neve-“
“I’m not asking for you to fall in love with me, darling.” Neve interrupted. Slipping her fingers beneath his chin she caressed his jaw, drawing his eyes to hers. “But I think you could use a distraction.”
Lucanis raised an eyebrow, his apprehension fading as Neve presented him with a more familiar, easier option.
“A distraction?” He leaned in, coming nose to nose with Neve. Her brown eyes were half lidded as she stared at his lips. Her breath ghosted across his skin. It prickled in anticipation, and he waited, wondering what her next move would be.
After what seemed like an eternity, Neve spoke. “If you want to kiss me, you’d better hurry up.”
Without thinking, Lucanis crashed his lips against hers. Their kisses were rough and hungry, both desperate for a taste of the other. Lucanis wrapped one arm around her waist and the other he threaded into her hair, pulling at the soft brown strands, angling her mouth where he wished. She kissed him back fiercely, nipping his bottom lip and scrapping her fingernails pleasantly down the side of his neck. Pulling on her hair, he tipped her head back so he could kiss her neck. Rook’s skin was sof-
The hapless thought jarred him back to reality, and Lucanis pulled away abruptly.
LUCANIS. IS. STUPID.
Yes. Yes, he was.
“I-“ Neve started, looking rather flustered.
“Not tonight,” Lucanis cut her off, silencing any further questions with a shake of his head, and a thin lie. “I’m too drunk.”
Neve narrowed her eyes, obviously not entirely satisfied with his feeble excuse for such a sudden change in behavior. Her scrutiny was intense, but Lucanis was a Crow, and Caterina’s grandson. Learning to lie and resist interrogation had been both part of his training, and essential to escaping his grandmother’s wrath growing up. Silence came easily for him, drunk or not.
“Alright,” Neve said eventually, though the quirk of her lips told him she still retained her suspicions. “Rest well.”
Lucanis bid her farewell and staggered through the door of the dining hall, making his way to the pantry and promptly collapsing face down onto his bed.
What was he going to do with himself?
WHY. Are WE WRONG?
Lucanis sighed.
“We just are, Spite. We just are,” he mumbled into his pillow drunkenly, unwilling to delve any further into it. His mind was a mess, and not in the usual way. Lucanis squeezed his eyes shut tight. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to sleep. A brief reprieve from all this thinking… would be welcome.
As he drifted off, Lucanis murmured, “Don’t tell her while I’m sleeping. Please.”
He felt Spite slip towards unconsciousness with him for a change.
I WON’T BETRAY LUCANIS.
Lucanis was grateful. And then he slept.
✨ First Times ✨
To spark some positive fandom enthusiasm, I thought I'd try creating a ~fun little ask prompt~, so here goes!
This can be serious ("the first time character A confided something in character B" / "the first time character B thought about kissing character A" / "the first time they dealt with loss together") or entirely silly ("the first time character A heard character B snoring" / "the first time character A's uniform was horribly out of place in front of character B" / "the first time they laughed so hard they cried together").
I encourage all writers and non-writers alike to participate however they wish! This isn't about creating mesmerizing prose, but about sharing in each others' love of the Characters™.
For the "first time..." prompt - may I ask for "the first time Ahsoka saw Rex blush..." please? 🧡💙
Thank you for the ask my friend! Here is a little drabble for you :)
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The first time Ahsoka saw Rex blush was after the war. They were dismantling the old motivator on one of the ships Rex had acquired for his rebel cell, hoping to salvage what parts they could before they replaced it with a new one.
The engine compartment was cramped. They both fit, although just barely, the cramped space forcing them to crouch on their knees, facing one another. Ahsoka was sifting through a few useable parts they’d already removed, while Rex was looking for their next quarry to extract.
“I think we could also save the power cell which is…” Rex trailed off, looking around the cabin until he finally pinpointed his prize. He twisted sharply, awkwardly, trying to move in the tiny space to get to the power cell which Ahsoka identified to be directly behind him, just above his head. She grabbed the spanner and rose onto her knees.
“I’ve got it,” she murmured, shuffling over until she was directly in front of him, leaning over his shoulder to get at the apparatus. Her chest brushed against his shoulder as she miscalculated the distance just slightly, but Rex steadied her with a hand on her hip.
“Thanks,” Ahsoka said absentmindedly, her whole focus already on the power cell.
“Oh, uh, I-“ Rex tried to protest but Ahsoka was already halfway finished with disconnecting the mechanism. “Not a problem,” Rex muttered, slightly muffled from beneath her.
No more than a few seconds later, the power cell popped free and Ahsoka grinned triumphantly.
“There! Got it,” she declared and pulled back, settling back down onto the ground and smiling up at Rex, but she was surprised to find him looking rather bewildered instead. His eyes were wide, and lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something. But most of all-
“Are you blushing?” Ahsoka accused, desperately trying not to sound too gleeful. Immediately Rex seemed to snap back into himself, vehemently denying it, all the while his blush only darkened.
“Of course not!”
“Really?”
“Really, Ahsoka.”
“Then why does it really look like it,” she teased, raising a hand to tap one of his ruddy cheeks gently. Rex rolled his eyes and swatted her hand away.
“It’s hot in here,” he said lamely, not quite meeting her gaze this time. Ahsoka scoffed.
“No, it really isn’t,” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back on her heels.
“Well maybe not for you,” Rex exclaimed. “You’re barely wearing any clothes!”
Ahsoka let out an indignant gasp but when she glanced down at her outfit, she could see he wasn’t entirely wrong. She had on a tiny tank top and some form fitting shorts. Teth was a warm planet, and this was hard work, after all. She hadn’t wanted to overheat. But her point still stood. It really wasn’t that hot in this compartment. But perhaps it was a heat of a different kind touching Rex’s cheeks. The thought made Ahsoka blush a little as well.
“I can, uh, change. If you’d like,” she offered gently, not wanting him to be uncomfortable.
“Absolutely not,” Rex said, perhaps a little too vehemently, because they both burst out laughing at his enthusiasm.
With a smile, Rex clarified, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say… I’m just…”
“I get it,” Ahsoka said, shrugging. They stared at each other for a second before that familiar warm feeling bubbled up into Ahsoka’s chest. She helped it dissipate in the way she normally did, by leaning forward and kissing Rex’s cheek.
That earned her a chuckle and a smile. Now they were both blushing.
“Look, ‘Soka… we should probably talk about this.” He made a motion generally between them. Ahsoka nodded. She had felt it too, for a while now.
“But maybe not here,” Rex continued. “The innards of a ships engine just doesn’t quite seem like the place.”
Ahsoka laughed. “I can’t argue with you there.”
“Over drinks, after this?” Rex suggested.
“You got it,” Ahsoka replied, unable to keep the excited grin off her face. Butterflies erupted in her gut in anticipation that finally, they might move forward with this. Ahsoka hoped that meant she’d have the opportunity to see Rex blush many more times to come.
✨ First Times ✨
To spark some positive fandom enthusiasm, I thought I'd try creating a ~fun little ask prompt~, so here goes!
This can be serious ("the first time character A confided something in character B" / "the first time character B thought about kissing character A" / "the first time they dealt with loss together") or entirely silly ("the first time character A heard character B snoring" / "the first time character A's uniform was horribly out of place in front of character B" / "the first time they laughed so hard they cried together").
I encourage all writers and non-writers alike to participate however they wish! This isn't about creating mesmerizing prose, but about sharing in each others' love of the Characters™.