Writing prompts??

[Fluffy_Moth_With_Silkies]

First person to reply with a writing prompt, theme, chosen point of view, and tone will get themselves a short story and then you get to rate it yayyyy

 

[Shabby Chic-Hens]

First person to reply with a writing prompt, theme, chosen point of view, and tone will get themselves a short story and then you get to rate it yayyyy

When you have a near-death experience, it's exactly what it sounds like. Death comes to your deathbed to take you to the afterlife, but you beg the immortal being to let you live.


Reluctantly, Death agrees, but it comes at a price. Every time you reach a moment where you should have died, you officially owe Death one date. This is your 18th date, explain how the conversation goes.
Theme: comedy
POV: third person
Tone: uhhh… you choose???
*prompt found through my Pinterest board, full credit to some poor Tumblr soul*

 

[Fluffy_Moth_With_Silkies]

When you have a near-death experience, it's exactly what it sounds like. Death comes to your deathbed to take you to the afterlife, but you beg the immortal being to let you live.


Reluctantly, Death agrees, but it comes at a price. Every time you reach a moment where you should have died, you officially owe Death one date. This is your 18th date, explain how the conversation goes.
Theme: comedy
POV: third person
Tone: uhhh… you choose???
*prompt found through my Pinterest board, full credit to some poor Tumblr soul*

THATS FIRE ACTUALLY HOLD ON

 

[Barnette]

Started typing at 11:39

Two kingdoms of magical people go to war - the necromancers (dark magic) and the people who can grow plants with magic (light magic).

Theme - Fantasy?

A girl who is half dark, half light, who has to choose which side to fight with in the war.

What does "tone" mean?

 

[Fluffy_Moth_With_Silkies]

When you have a near-death experience, it's exactly what it sounds like. Death comes to your deathbed to take you to the afterlife, but you beg the immortal being to let you live.


Reluctantly, Death agrees, but it comes at a price. Every time you reach a moment where you should have died, you officially owe Death one date. This is your 18th date, explain how the conversation goes.
Theme: comedy
POV: third person
Tone: uhhh… you choose???
*prompt found through my Pinterest board, full credit to some poor Tumblr soul*

The thought of death is, to many, quite terrifying. But when you experience something quite a few times in repeated succession, the edge wears off a bit. It might seem frankly impossible to have succeeded in escaping death as many times as Ulv has, but that’s alright. Not everyone has to believe something for it to be true. The first time you die, or nearly die, it’s thrilling in the absolute worst way possible. Like your lungs are giving out. And then along comes Death, the creature known for being so very terrifying.
People are scared of two things, at the very base level. One is things they don’t know and two is things they know all too well. If you don’t know something, there’s a kind of anxiety over what could happen. If you know something too well, there’s anxiety over how it will happen. As is death. It’s inevitable, is it not? Not everything gets to live, but everything gets to die.
Ulv, a rather put-together man in his late 30’s, has had more than enough of his fair share of dying. And every single time, despite the danger, he manages to make it out. But how, you might question? Well, Ulv likes to tempt fate. To alter death, which in turn alters life. Every time he’s greeted by Death, waiting just in view like a claw waiting to sharpen itself, he convinces the being to let him live. On the deal that Ulv will take Death out with all expenses paid.
So time and time again, Ulv has found himself on what could be called essentially a date with Death. Today, he and Death have gone to a rather nice bar in east London. His hair, black based and streaked with white, his own birthmark, has been pulled back into a manbun that is actually quite elegant. And his dark suit definitely matches it. Death, on the other hand, is dressed in shades of only dark gray, with a hint of red in the lining of his own dark suit. His hair is cropped short.
Ulv begins to muse as the conversation with Death starts. This wasn’t uncommon. “So, mate. I don’t believe I ever asked you why you keep letting me get away.” Ulv’s voice comes out low, almost tired. That is to be expected from a man in his late 30’s who just cannot keep away from dying. Death’s voice responds from somewhere to his right, though Death himself is sitting directly in front of him.
“I suppose it would be less entertaining to let you die.” The being ponders, tipping his drink a bit to the side in a relaxed manner.
“So I’m entertainment?”
“Essentially.”
Well that’s not the most fun thing to think about. Ulv doesn’t linger on it too long, not wanting to bring down the mood too much. Though the barrier of feigned nonchalance may not last too long.
“Glad you think I’m fun.” Ulv says, a halfhearted tease.
“I suppose.” Death says.
“. . . How long can I get away with it?”
“As long as I let you.”
Hmm. Makes sense, doesn’t it? You can only live as long as you are chosen to continue living. Ulv takes a second to be thankful he’s still, well, alive. The conversation grinds to a steady halt, the sounds of other bar patrons being the only background. Neither of the men take the chance to keep the conversation going. Death orders another drink. Ulv sips somberly on his first.
The world passes by at an almost quickened pace, like everyone just can’t wait for the interaction to be over. But Ulv knows better than to leave before Death. He tries to mask his worry with a soft chuckle and the offer of a toast. “Toast to letting me live.” Ulv cheers, more than a hint of teasing in his tone. Death ignores it. It wasn’t his business, the whole emotion thing. But he does return the toast with an acknowledging grunt. Ulv’s voice cuts apart the train of Death’s thoughts.
“Shouldn’t you be out killing people right about now?”
Now that wasn’t an uncommon question to be asked at the dinner table- or really, the barstool. Death just replies with his low, gravelly voice. “I don’t kill. The natural forces do that. I just collect people.” Ulv flinches a bit at that, though it’s internalized. Collecting people like they never lived. Sounds like it’s not a fun job, he thinks to himself. He tips his own drink in light nonchalance towards himself, swirling the glass.
“Mind if I ask, but why do you keep inviting me out? Why can’t you let yourself die?” Death queries, his voice quiet. Almost to hide from the other patrons, who aren’t paying attention anyway. Ulv does not follow the trend of whispering. “Don’t want to die yet, ‘ve got too much to live for.” His head falls back against the backing of the chair, his eyes fluttering closed a bit, if only for a moment of refined peace. When he tips his head back up, Death is gone.
Again.
Death wasn’t exactly unpleasant. He was calm and quiet, much unlike Ulv. Though despite their differences, they got along quite swimmingly. It makes you wonder just how easy it could be to persuade death into ridding your burden and letting you go free. With a sigh, Ulv stands up, setting down his half-finished drink and looking wistfully at the many cleared glasses Death had left behind. Maybe he could get more company next time.

(Sorry it's not very good, dialogue isn't my strong point)

 

[Barnette]

The thought of death is, to many, quite terrifying. But when you experience something quite a few times in repeated succession, the edge wears off a bit. It might seem frankly impossible to have succeeded in escaping death as many times as Ulv has, but that’s alright. Not everyone has to believe something for it to be true. The first time you die, or nearly die, it’s thrilling in the absolute worst way possible. Like your lungs are giving out. And then along comes Death, the creature known for being so very terrifying.
People are scared of two things, at the very base level. One is things they don’t know and two is things they know all too well. If you don’t know something, there’s a kind of anxiety over what could happen. If you know something too well, there’s anxiety over how it will happen. As is death. It’s inevitable, is it not? Not everything gets to live, but everything gets to die.
Ulv, a rather put-together man in his late 30’s, has had more than enough of his fair share of dying. And every single time, despite the danger, he manages to make it out. But how, you might question? Well, Ulv likes to tempt fate. To alter death, which in turn alters life. Every time he’s greeted by Death, waiting just in view like a claw waiting to sharpen itself, he convinces the being to let him live. On the deal that Ulv will take Death out with all expenses paid.
So time and time again, Ulv has found himself on what could be called essentially a date with Death. Today, he and Death have gone to a rather nice bar in east London. His hair, black based and streaked with white, his own birthmark, has been pulled back into a manbun that is actually quite elegant. And his dark suit definitely matches it. Death, on the other hand, is dressed in shades of only dark gray, with a hint of red in the lining of his own dark suit. His hair is cropped short.
Ulv begins to muse as the conversation with Death starts. This wasn’t uncommon. “So, mate. I don’t believe I ever asked you why you keep letting me get away.” Ulv’s voice comes out low, almost tired. That is to be expected from a man in his late 30’s who just cannot keep away from dying. Death’s voice responds from somewhere to his right, though Death himself is sitting directly in front of him.
“I suppose it would be less entertaining to let you die.” The being ponders, tipping his drink a bit to the side in a relaxed manner.
“So I’m entertainment?”
“Essentially.”
Well that’s not the most fun thing to think about. Ulv doesn’t linger on it too long, not wanting to bring down the mood too much. Though the barrier of feigned nonchalance may not last too long.
“Glad you think I’m fun.” Ulv says, a halfhearted tease.
“I suppose.” Death says.
“. . . How long can I get away with it?”
“As long as I let you.”
Hmm. Makes sense, doesn’t it? You can only live as long as you are chosen to continue living. Ulv takes a second to be thankful he’s still, well, alive. The conversation grinds to a steady halt, the sounds of other bar patrons being the only background. Neither of the men take the chance to keep the conversation going. Death orders another drink. Ulv sips somberly on his first.
The world passes by at an almost quickened pace, like everyone just can’t wait for the interaction to be over. But Ulv knows better than to leave before Death. He tries to mask his worry with a soft chuckle and the offer of a toast. “Toast to letting me live.” Ulv cheers, more than a hint of teasing in his tone. Death ignores it. It wasn’t his business, the whole emotion thing. But he does return the toast with an acknowledging grunt. Ulv’s voice cuts apart the train of Death’s thoughts.
“Shouldn’t you be out killing people right about now?”
Now that wasn’t an uncommon question to be asked at the dinner table- or really, the barstool. Death just replies with his low, gravelly voice. “I don’t kill. The natural forces do that. I just collect people.” Ulv flinches a bit at that, though it’s internalized. Collecting people like they never lived. Sounds like it’s not a fun job, he thinks to himself. He tips his own drink in light nonchalance towards himself, swirling the glass.
“Mind if I ask, but why do you keep inviting me out? Why can’t you let yourself die?” Death queries, his voice quiet. Almost to hide from the other patrons, who aren’t paying attention anyway. Ulv does not follow the trend of whispering. “Don’t want to die yet, ‘ve got too much to live for.” His head falls back against the backing of the chair, his eyes fluttering closed a bit, if only for a moment of refined peace. When he tips his head back up, Death is gone.
Again.
Death wasn’t exactly unpleasant. He was calm and quiet, much unlike Ulv. Though despite their differences, they got along quite swimmingly. It makes you wonder just how easy it could be to persuade death into ridding your burden and letting you go free. With a sigh, Ulv stands up, setting down his half-finished drink and looking wistfully at the many cleared glasses Death had left behind. Maybe he could get more company next time.

(Sorry it's not very good, dialogue isn't my strong point)

Nice!! So, you said dialogue isn't your strong point... I've been working on realistic dialogue a lot and I've gotten pretty good (imo) so if you ever need help with a conversation in one of your stories, let me know! Personally, descriptions are my strong point. I'm an author too

 

[Logar]

What does "tone" mean

I think it is how the story is supposed to be read.

 

[Eroica]

I'm following this! I don't have much inspiration right now, but when I do, I'll be sure to pop in! I love to write, too.

 

[Barnette]

Y'all have Wattpad? If not, I really suggest it. It's an app where you can publish your stories for free, for other people to read, and it has copyright protection! I recently got Wattpad and it's amazing. My username is TheChickenLady if you want to read some of my stories!