It is on, everyone. The newest edition of Backstory Weeks is about to start. This time, an all new theme. In the coming weeks, weâll look at how core emotions have shaped our OCâs pasts, how they deal (or dealt) with feelings and what makes them them.
How does it work? Use a character from one of your WIPs (planned or in progress, or even finished); I recommend you stick with one, but itâs not required. Think about the questions, then use the prompts to write a scene set before the main story. That scene may be one that has significant impact on who they are today - or simply one that just showcases an important part of their past. Just see where you end up. And - have fun.
What matters? Be creative and support others! Check out their characters and scenes, find what you like, share, comment and make new friends!
What to do to be reblogged? Finish until the respective Sunday (your time or mine, doesnât matter) and let me know you did it. Tag me, send it to me directly or tag with #yob7 or #yourocsbackstory. If itâs more than 500 words, please use a cut. Edits are welcome but not at all necessary. Please add content warnings before a cut if applicable. If youâre insprired, feel free to write nsfw entries, but I will not share them. This is a sfw blog.
Week 0 Introduction - prompt.
For week 0, weâll focus on introduction and stick to the same questions we have before.
Write a scene or a monologue, where your character introduces themself to the reader, or to a random, friendly stranger.Â
Hereâs some possible prompts for that:
(a) Imagine they are stuck somewhere (waiting in an airport, adrift in a lifeboat, having their curls done at the hairdresser, whatever) and a young kid asks them âwho are you?â. How would that dialogue play out?.
(b) Start with the words âMy name is [your characterâs name]â and have them introduce themself!
(c) Have them stuck in a police interrogation (guilty or not...), and make the detective desperate to find out who that person on the other side of the table is.
(d) Have them interviewed by a news host on television or in radio.
(e) Well, whatever you want really ;) Just let them talk.
Preliminary Schedule under the cut:
Week 0Â âIntroductionâ - prompt NOW, entries until March 7th
Week 1Â âFearâ - prompt posted on March 8th, entries until March 14th
Week 2 âJoyâ - prompt posted on March 15th, entries until March 21st
Week 3 âDisgustâ - prompt posted on March 22nd, entries until March 28th
Week 4 âSadnessâ - prompt posted on March 29th, entries until April 11th (2 weeks due to Easter in between)
Week 5Â âAngerâ - prompt posted on April 12th, entries until April 18th
Week 6 Free Week - prompt posted on April 19th, entries until April 25th
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My hands clasped the last letter Garrett sent to me three weeks ago. They were shaking and nothing I did could stop it.
Every second the carriage got closer to Connors house and every second I wished myself further away. But Garrett didn't meet me in Paris two weeks ago, so something must have happened and I wasnât ready for whatever was waiting for me when I arrived at Connors house.
Garrett wrote he was going to come, so why didn't he? Was he in trouble? Probably, he always was. But it wasnât like him to not show when he said he would.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing for a second. I had to stop worrying about him. But what if ⌠I couldnât even think about losing him. Yes, we quarreled a lot, but he was my brother and the thought of him dying was unbearable.
The carriage stopped.
I got out, paid the coachman. Then I was there and stared up to the light behind the windows. The overwhelming feeling of not being supposed to be here almost made me turn back to the carriage and drive back to the hotel. It was ridiculous.
So I walked up to the door and knocked.
A long time nothing happened, then the sound of steps came closer and Samuel opened the door. God, he looked so much like his father ... âAnya?â
I forced myself to smile. âIâm sorry for the late intrusion. Is ⌠is Garrett here?â
Sam nodded and stepped aside to let me in. âYes, everyone is in the living room. Why?â
âDid ⌠something happen?â
âWell, you could say that.â My facial expression must have been horrified, because he was quick to add: âAlice was born on christmas.â
âAlice?â
âMy sister.â
âOh.â I took a step back. âI understand. Iâm sorry to interrupt your evening, Iâll go.â
That explained everything.
âWhat? No.â Sam shook his head. âCome in, mother will be happy to see you.â
I doubted it, but followed anyway.
Sam led me right into the living room. âUncle Garrett, itâs Anya.â
Garrett was standing right next to the fireplace. A panicked expression crept onto his face. âFuck.â
I sighed. âI waited a week for you.â
âIâm sorryâ, he said again and came towards me. âI just remembered. Iâm so sorry.â
âYes, me to. I should have known.â I shot a quick glance at Connor and Grace. âIâm sorry to bother you.â
Grace smiled. âYouâre not bothering, you know that.â
I still felt like I was. Garrett forgot, because he was busy. Why didn't I think of that? Why did I always expect the worst?
âIâm sorry, Anyaâ, he repeated. âI wanted to write, but I forgot.â
âDonât worry about it.â Leave the worrying to me. âIâm ⌠enjoy your evening.â I turned around and fled the room.
âAnya, wait!â He stopped me before I could reach the front door. âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothing.â
âSure.â
I shook my head. âI shouldnât have come, Iâm sorry. I just thought something happened to you.â
âI really meant to write.â
âI know.â I forced a smile again. âItâs okay.â
Itâs not. I didn't mean to scare you.â
âI know.â
âCome back in, alright?â
I shook my head again. âNo, I donât want to interrupt. This is your life, not mine.â
âYouâre my life tooâ, he protested.
âThatâs nice of you to say, but both of us know itâs not true anymore. I lost you.â
âIâm right here.â
âYes, I can tell.â
Tagging: Â @wilde-writingâ @wortfinderâ @ascheninkâ @lady-redshield-writesââ @crystallizedchroniclesâ @cirianneâ Â @writerofscribblesâ | tell me to be added to or removed from this list | also tagging @yourocsbackstoryâ
after the last Backstory Weeks always focused mostly on relationships, for this instance thereâll be a shift: I intend to focus on emotions.
Which moments in their past triggered their most emotional responses, what made them afraid, happy, angry, disgusted or sad? How do they react in such an emotional situation? Or how did they, back then in their backstory?
(There might be some more emotions, but, really I love Inside Out as a movie, so letâs stick with this)
What do you think? Can you roll with this concept, or should I go back to the old and more âestablishedâ prompts?
Tell me!Â
One way or another, the event will run in March :) Looking forward!
How fearful is your character? Afraid of the dark, of spiders, of not being good enough? How does it show? Has it always been like that, has it worsened? How do they deal with their fear? Do they hide from it, or do they confront it? Do they actually understand it, and can they talk about it with others?
PROMPT - Think about your characterâs past. When where they most afraid? What was the first time they encountered that fear, or the first time they opened up about it? Find an event, that is defining for their relationship with that emotion, and just write about it!
To be featured on this blog, thereâs not much to remember:
Use the prompt to write a scene (I wonât reblog if you just answer the questions; this is meant to get you writing, after all :))
Donât make it a lot longer than 1000 words, if itâs longer than about 500 words please add a readmore, and if it contains potentially triggering content, tag accordingly (and put the read more high enough). This blog is meant to be safe for everyone.Â
Tag #yob7, #yourocsbackstory or @ me directly (or both), and if you feel it could be lost, send it to me directly.Â
UPDATE - This prompt is for one week - replies that come in before March 13th will be shared next weekend, March 12th and 13th!
Donât forget to check out your fellow participantsâ works, comment, like and reblog if you enjoy them!Â
How angry is your character? What makes them feel this way? How does it show? How do they deal with their anger? Do they try to repress it, or do they express their anger? Do they worry about hurting someoneâs feelings, or do they act like it doesnât bother them as much as it does? Is their method of expressing their anger healthy?
PROMPT - Think about your characterâs past. What makes them angry? How often do they feel it? Was it because of loss, hurt, an argument? Do they actively try to avoid confronting their feelings, or is it something they canât get away from easily? Are they easily angered, irritated or frustrated? Or does it take a lot more to make them anger? Find an event, that is defining for their relationship with that emotion, and just write about it!
To be featured on this blog, thereâs not much to remember:
Use the prompt to write a scene (I wonât reblog if you just answer the questions; this is meant to get you writing, after all :))
Donât make it a lot longer than 1000 words, if itâs longer than about 500 words please add a readmore, and if it contains potentially triggering content, tag accordingly (and put the read more high enough). This blog is meant to be safe for everyone.
Tag #yob7, #yourocsbackstory or @ me directly (or both), and if you feel it could be lost, send it to me directly.
If you send it in before April 10th, it will be reblogged on the weekend April 10th/11th!
Donât forget to check out your fellow participantsâ works, comment, like and reblog if you enjoy them!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Is your character cheerful? Can they be happy with the little things? What brings them joy? Friends, love, beauty? Are they chasing happiness, have they found it, do they believe they donât deserve it or itâs forever lost? Do they keep joy to themselves, or do they want to share it with others?
PROMPT - Think about your characterâs past. When where they most happy? What was the first time they encountered that joy? Do they still enjoy the same things? Is there I moment they carry in their heart and will always go back to? Find an event, that is defining for their relationship with that emotion, and just write about it!
To be featured on this blog, thereâs not much to remember:
Use the prompt to write a scene (I wonât reblog if you just answer the questions; this is meant to get you writing, after all :))
Donât make it a lot longer than 1000 words, if itâs longer than about 500 words please add a readmore, and if it contains potentially triggering content, tag accordingly (and put the read more high enough). This blog is meant to be safe for everyone.
Tag #yob7, #yourocsbackstory or @ me directly (or both), and if you feel it could be lost, send it to me directly.
If you send it in before March 21st, it will be reblogged on the weekend March 20th/21st!
Donât forget to check out your fellow participantsâ works, comment, like and reblog if you enjoy them!
How disgusted is your character? Of a character, of something that someone does or did, of themselves? How does it show? Has it always been like that, has it worsened? How do they deal with their disgust? Do they avoid it, or do they do something about it? Do they worry that about hurting someoneâs feelings, or do they act like it doesnât bother them as much as it does?
PROMPT - Think about your characterâs past. What disgusts them? What was the first time they experienced it? Was is something that they previously enjoyed? Do they actively try to avoid it, or is it something they canât get away from easily? Find an event, that is defining for their relationship with that emotion, and just write about it!
To be featured on this blog, thereâs not much to remember:
Use the prompt to write a scene (I wonât reblog if you just answer the questions; this is meant to get you writing, after all :))
Donât make it a lot longer than 1000 words, if itâs longer than about 500 words please add a readmore, and if it contains potentially triggering content, tag accordingly (and put the read more high enough). This blog is meant to be safe for everyone.
Tag #yob7, #yourocsbackstory or @ me directly (or both), and if you feel it could be lost, send it to me directly.
If you send it in before March 28th, it will be reblogged on the weekend March 27th/28th!
Donât forget to check out your fellow participantsâ works, comment, like and reblog if you enjoy them!
Prompt: Write a scene or a monologue, where your character introduces themself to the reader, or to a random, friendly stranger.Â
The problem with victory, Jaeger mused, was that it rarely left you feeling an urge to set it aside. It left a thrill in its wake, a giddy drunkenness that could only be satiated by another win.
Which was why when he should have been pulling himself up and out of the Pit and taking himself home, he instead stayed in the ring and threw out a challenge to the crowd. He prowled around the edges of the octagon, jeering up at the rings of spectators.
The bait of his challenge went untouched. That was fine, he could leave it to fester until the lure of the Pits drew him back for the next fight. There would be plenty who wanted to fight him fresh, plenty who had already fought to their own brink this evening and there would always be someone else who wanted a rematch. But as he turned to haul himself up and out, a fighter vaulted the wall and landed opposite him to an eruption of cheers.
Jaeger knew in an absent sense that he was pushing himself too far. Which mightâve been fine if he was fighting just anyone trying their luck against him, but when he looked round he found Knarl. A fighter only a couple years older than him but with a couple dozen more victories under his belt. He was thickset, short and stocky where Jaeger was tall and wiry. But Jaeger had seen him fight often enough to know what he lacked in reach, he more than made up for in speed.
Injured, dehydrated, exhausted; this was a foolâs fight and the crowd were salivating for it.
In professional fights a ref wouldâve called the start, but this was the Pits. Jaeger charged forward and landed a jab to the gut. As Knarl curled over, Jaeger wrapped his hands round his head and moved to slam him down into his rising knee. But he wasnât quick enough. Knarl took the moment he was off balance to shoulder tackle him in the chest and force him back across the pit. Jaeger bent his knees and allowed himself to move with the force. He could lose ground, he couldnât risk his footing.Â
Knarl slammed him back against the boards. Jaeger scrambled against the hold but a forearm to his throat and the fist between his ribs held him firmly in place. He spat in Knarlâs face and was rewarded with more pressure against his neck.
âJust stay down,â Knarl warned.. âWho do you think you are anyway?â
Jaeger snarled. A flicker of flame burned the back of his throat but he bit it down before it could rise. Magic had no place in the Pit. All you had was your fists, feet and nerve.
Who am I? Jaeger thought. I was left for dead. He writhed against the boards, trying to free himself to fight back. A quick succession of punches to his ribs left an explosion of pain in their wake, but they also left enough room for him to swerve around Knarl and skip back across the ring to carve out his own space.
My own parents left me to the elements. They saw weakness that needed to be tested and against the storm I survived.
Knarl advanced with bear-like fury. Jaeger lifted his hand with a small smile and gestured for him to come forward.
I was a child with a knife in hand told to find my way home. I was a child who should have been safe but his family saw comfort as failure.
Knarl swung with his left fist. Jaeger spun, the punch brushed past his cheek, and used his momentum to slam his elbow into Knarlâs face. Spinning back around he bounced forward. His next hits were blocked, steady beats of knuckle on palm. He kicked but met empty air as Knarl ducked. They faced off across the Pit, both panting now, Knarlâs nose bleeding and Jaegerâs chest flaring with pain.
Cheers, jeers and the stamping of feet all built to a crescendo in the pit stands. The crowd were hungry for blood and Jaeger had presented them with a feast. Unfortunately, despite all his best efforts to the contrary, too much of the blood on offer was his own.
My own god fears me.
Jaeger prowled across the ring.
But my brother loves me.
Knarl kicked him across the torso. The pain was agony but if he got a hold of him again it would be worse. Jaeger lurched to the side and dropped as Knarl tried to get his arms round him. He rose up out of reach and darted forward to hit Knarl wherever he could reach.
My fathers are proud of me.
Jaeger leaped back again. Knarl was blinking fast to clear the blood from his split brow out of his eyes.
I am more than my past.
Jaeger feinted forward, Knarl ducked back. A brutal attack had become a cautious dance.
I am the born son of warriors, the chosen son of musicians, and the blessed son of the Dragon god.
Both fighters surged forward, their hits batted away, nothing truly landing in the flurry as they poked and prodded for weaknesses in the otherâs defence.
Youâre not going to beat me. Jaeger knew with sudden conviction. This was the addiction of the Pits. He couldnât tell you how he knew, what voice spoke to him, but in every fight he knew it when it appeared - knew that moment when the tide turned and he rode it to glory.
Left, right, left, right; Knarl tried to punch back but Jaeger remained just out of his range, his hits now gliding under Knarlâs and landing soundly across his face. Dazed as Knarl was, his fighting was no longer calculated, just desperate. One solid right hook and he went down. The ground thudded with the impact, though Jaeger was the only one who felt in amongst the din of the crowd.
A Pit judge dropped into the ring and rushed to check Knarl over. He waved him off weakly, but as he tried to stand his feet went out from under him and he fell back to the dirt.
Jaeger strode across the Pit and stood over Knarl. He crouched down and bopped him on the nose, ignoring his flinch and the judgeâs protests.
âIâm Elliot fucking Jaeger.â He grinned, blood spilling between his teeth. âAnd Iâm a gods cursed legend.â