Explore

@kavyajanani.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 1:17 PM

Oh, dear dear! #WIPSnips

#WriteSky #AmWriting #TimeTravel

‘Thank you, Jess. Err…I have something to ask right now. Do you have Vaqt with you? Can you show it to me?’ Her heart beat an erratic pulse as Maya asked with a pleading tone.
‘Yes, I have it…’ Jessica hesitated.
‘Hi, Jessica.’ Anuj’s voice interrupted their conversation.

@mcburnellauthor.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 1:09 PM

#WIPSnips 'pulse'

CN: blood

He turned to face them, and as he did, he spiraled to the ground until he came to rest on one knee. His gaze was on his own leg, soaked in blood to the knee. He wavered and sat down.
Boden was on his knees beside him. He shoved him into the dirt with the words, “Get your heart down!” When he grasped the thigh of Dameth’s moris and pulled, it was as if the cloth had been perforated, so neatly did a rectangle fold away. There was a gash on the interior of his upper leg where they had known it would be. It didn’t look particularly large or serious, but they could see the blood pumping out of it, not a trickle but a steady flow that pulsed with each beating of his heart. A puddle was forming beneath him in the soil and trampled grass.
Feeling faint, Alia sat down at his side. It wasn’t gruesome, not compared to some of the things she’d seen in the last year. This was different, though, because the wound was in the flesh of someone she loved. And when she looked at it, she knew that it was mortal. The quantity of blood coming out of him was terrifying.

@thirdmonti.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:55 PM

#WIPSnips 12 10 2026

‘Pulse’ —> ‘pulsing’

Since this was my doing, I was stationed on the Solar with another engineer and Kai-Ilen to make our team a team of three. Captain Patel was given the command of this ship temporarily for the test and Flyboy came aboard to pilot. Lastly, for communication purposes, Midshipman Bell came aboard for this test, making for a total crew of six.

The human engineer who came with us led our little team; as an Able Crewman, she outranked me as Ordinary Crewman, and she outranked Kai-Ilen who was a civilian. So she sent our status of all green to the bridge. Shortly thereafter the ship engaged in superluminal flight. The drive’s rhythmic pulsing sound was very different from that of the Comet’s drive. It intrigued me.

I watched the clock counting down the nearly seven minutes until the timer reached zero. The sound the ship made reduced and the rhythmic pulsing turned to a hum. We were stationary.

@pythonmelon.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:54 PM

#WIPSnips from Bloody Terrible- reflecting after an incident

"First encounter with a monster hunter?" Nostriano asked, chuckling weakly as he lowered himself into the booth at DeSantos Italian. Everything hurt, pulses and twitches of pain running down his back and arms. He had to lie down, closing his eyes to protect them from the hanging light overhead. He also had to try to lighten the mood. Renee may not have been in hysterics, but she probably wasn’t doing well.
He had started to worry the moment she left his line of sight, had known then it was a mistake. She may not have been the target of any attempt on his life, but she was just as easy collateral for him as against. Seeing her in danger had crystalized that, made his blood boil with more than just the silver poisoning.

@brambonius.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:41 PM

For the #WIPsnips
A pulse like a new robotic wave beat isn't healthy...
(I haven't heard the genre myself, but it was invented by robots in the 23th century and no human ever liked it)
This isn't the moment for panic attacks either, but I don't think anyone would have them if they could be planned.

‘Héva? What?’
He froze up completely while she found both shirts and started to change with her back to him. She wore an undershirt anyway, so it didn’t matter anyway, and she kept on talking.
‘I’m sorry, Ronan, I’m so very sorry. But we’ll find our way back, I promise.’
When she turned again, he still wasn’t moving.
‘I know it’s Héva, the land with no men, but like The Nation they should still follow a minimum of international human rights treaties. So that’s why we need the Planetary Council shirts, to remind them of that. And Ghost Town badges are much safer here than your little Epsilon… You’re a Ghost Town boy now, not a Nationer.’
Like a ghost he moved to change his shirt, but something about him was off.
‘Hey, are you okay?’ Pyra grabbed his arm and felt cold sweat, and noticed only now he wasn’t just frozen, but also was hyperventilating. His pulse was beating like a new robotic wave drumbeat, and his face was pale.
She stopped. ‘Panic attack?’ She asked.
He nodded slowly and looked at her, trying find his voice. ‘Sorry.’ He finally said.
‘Hmm… You are not the one who should apologise.

@margerybayne.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:37 PM

This is such a good look into Haven's thinking process but also some foreshadowing for when he is going to make a rash decision.

#WIPSnips #BookSky #WriteSky #AmQuerying

Haven let three beats of his pulse pass before turning his attention to Patience, from where it had wandered in the first place. One way to never appear to be caught unaware was to never react too fast. Never startle, jolt, or fumble. Rather, take your time, take a breath, and think before you act or speak. Be methodical and precise in all things. When you weren’t, when you let emotions guide rash decisions, that’s when mistakes were made.

@ddwardiswriting.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:31 PM

#WIPSnips

Blair could feel the countess’ fingernails tapping against her skin. Blair held herself still as the immortal applied Blair’s makeup. She did her best not to shake. But she felt vulnerable. Her gear lay on the floor next to the wardrobe. She had the silver potion hidden in her necklace. But she had nothing else. The countess paused for a moment. Blair opened her eyes. She saw the countess’ face inches from her own. Her pulse quickened. Fear? Desire? Something was making her heart race. The countess caressed Blair’s cheek, running a fingernail across Blair’s chin and down her neck. Blair couldn’t contain the feeling inside and a gasp escaped her lips.

“You are trying so hard. Relax. Enjoy the evening.” The countess said.

The process continued. The countess pausing every so often to run a nail across Blair’s exposed neck or collarbone. Blair did her best not to respond. But she felt breathless by the time the countess had finished applying Blair’s makeup.

@amber-hathaway.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:29 PM

[Her] lips curled. The urge to tear the stack of papers from her father's hands and set it ablaze pulsed in her arms. Lies. Filthy, rotten lies.

#WIPSnips

@floweringsnows.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:28 PM

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WritingPrompts

@markjohnston905.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:24 PM

CW: amputation, general medieval battle damage

They discover people have been abusing their sacred drug/medicine.

#WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"What is this in your mouth?" Mira asked the man. Her voice was a mix of awe and disgust, as if she couldn't believe what she was asking.
The man smiled at her, some drool running out of the corner of his mouth. "What's it to you, wench?"
Dray tightened the belt, likely a little tighter than was totally necessary, earning a growl from the man. "You are much too old to be drinking solhara, son. Why has your Earth Mother allowed you to wander out here in the woods with it? That's dangerous."
"None of your business, old man," the scout replied angrily. His face was beginning to turn white and his eyes rolled slightly.
Mira slapped the man lightly, trying to keep his attention. "What's happening in Black Cave? Why have you cut yourself off from everyone?"
The man made no reply.
Bert looked at the man, blood still flowing from his shoulder and a large puddle having formed from his missing leg. He knew the man had come at him to kill, but Bert didn't want the man to die. An orange foam was now bubbling slowly from his mouth.
"He's in shock, I don't think he'll make it," Dray said quietly. He had his fingers on the man's neck, feeling his pulse. "Even with these wounds, he should have lasted much longer. I thought we'd be able to bring him home and stitch him up. I don't understand."
"Something with the drug?" Cat suggested.

@eblabellewrites.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:09 PM

Yeah having the best psionic in a crime family be a twenty-year old asshole with zero empathy is a little terrifying actually.

#WIPSnips

Rennyn approached in silence, standing right next to Callon as he leaned against the wall.
His skin was paler than Leona's, his hair a lighter brown, his ears shorter. The only similarity the two held was their scarlet eyes.
Don't think about anything weird, don't look him in the eyes, Callon thought, desperately trying to slow his pulse. "Well, if it isn't the psionic savant himself," Callon smiled, keeping his gaze forward.
"If you're gonna pretend to be friendly, you could at least look at me," Rennyn responded flatly, clearly unimpressed. "I don't care enough about you to read your mind, if that's what you're worried about."
Somehow, Rennyn's casual attitude only made Callon more uneasy. Still, he obliged, turning to face him. "So...your dad sent you, I'm guessing?"
He nodded, "yep. No offense, but he wasn't impressed with your stunt at the last meeting."
'...all I did was no-show."
"Yeah, exactly. He's not anal about a lot, but he is when it comes to her," he shrugged, nodding to Leona. "Heard your dad flipped out at you."
"It's whatever. Lesson, learned, I-" Callon paused, looking away. "Leona didn't tell you that, did she?"
"Nope," he smirked.
Damn, he's good.

@deboradale.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:06 PM

“We’re not alone.” This man, this stranger, had somehow made his way into her life. This stranger with a presence that had, at some point, stopped making her feel invaded.
“We are too alone,” she said, standing so close to him she practically felt his #pulse. “We’re just alone together.”
#WIPSnips

@scarletvmitchell.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:04 PM

#WIPSnips

Oh, that was a spicy search!
What wasn’t spicy or spoilery is this little scene where Jack does a tarot card reading during the case in DeadmanWIP…

sensing the energy of the occupants as if he could talk to them. He asked the walls what their secrets were, what they’d seen and known. He asked them how to protect those within. When his breath ran even and he felt a certain sense of rightness slide into place, he stopped shuffling and began to lay cards on the counter.
The three of swords pierced a heart. He knew it represented emotional pain, but something about the red and the heart itself caught his attention, as if he could actually hear it beating an arhythmic pulse. He focused on his breath again and drew another card. The devil. He blinked. The devil card had never indicated some malevolent outside influence to him. It merely represented bad habits, deep-seated fears, temptations, bad decisions, delusions. It wasn’t some shadow man stalking innocent children. He cleared his throat and shook his head, drawing the third.
The burning tower. He let out a little groan of complaint. He hated that card

@sayaashrah.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:01 PM

#WIPSnips 12. “Pulse(s)”

Lots of Pulse(s) in the story when that’s the word for the global time measurement of Arak’shiir/Netherrealm.

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #SayaAshrah #CaptainNitara #Ashtara #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #QueerWriters

Now she opened her eyes and squinted at the demon, who was sitting on a block of iron and staring down at her, trying to gauge whether Ashrah was making fun of her. No, the captain decided. She doesn’t have the capacity for humour. “How old are you again?”

“Sixty-one thousand, two hundred and forty-seven Pulses. Why do you ask?”

Nitara choked on a gasp. She remembered then how time passed faster in the Netherrealm, which created the vast difference between its Pulses and the years in other realms. After a quick calculation, she estimated Ashrah would be around twelve thousand and four hundred years in the Vaeternian calendar. Still a tremendous amount, but relatively easier to wrap her head around than sixty-one thousand. “Honestly? Because I must be losing my mind.”

Ashrah nodded, solemn. “That is indeed a consequence of exposure to the Abyss. I propose a pact: I shall allow you to drink my alarun and regenerate your strength, and in exchange, you shall agree to fight me until one of us can no longer stand.”

@mkwritesfic.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:58 AM

Nothing too exciting for today, just a short part of the cleansing ceremony. From CultWIP first draft.
TW for self-mutilation and blood
#WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Blood trickled from the freshly opened wound on Rowan's pale arm, dripping from his fingers onto the altar where so many others had already spilled their own. He hesitated as he watched the slow, steady pulse of crimson continue to well up and trace its manic path across his skin, the golden blade that he had used to slice still poised and hovering in the air just inches from his arm. The edge was not as sharp as it usually was, requiring much more force now to cut open skin, but it had almost made it through yet another cleansing ceremony. There were still dozens more people behind him in line, practically tripping over themselves with elation at the prospect of atonement.

Someone cleared their throat. “Rowan?”

High Priest Silas stood before him, his hand outstretched and his ancient face betraying his impatience. On either side of him stood Mother Superior Sera and Warrior Priest Corvin, as well as their chosen acolytes, who held burning candles in their hands and kneeled with their heads bowed in prayer. Behind High Priest Silas, a bronze idol of Rekshimyr stood tall, nearly brushing the ceiling. The low light of the room cast sinister shadows across his sharp, birdlike face.

@woodenvelt.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:57 AM

I couldn't resist sharing Wren and Spencer's first kiss.

From Thief of Death, my romantic fantasy about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold.

#WIPSnips #Wrencer #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“Shhh.” It was barely a sound, the gentle whisper of Spencer’s breath against her skin.
“Give me something else to think about.” She breathed the words into the space between his collar and jaw, uncertain what she was asking for. But Spencer knew— how did he always know? His mouth pressed against hers in a kiss that shoved the terror back down before it could gain any purchase.
Wren curled her hands into folds of his shirt, tugging him closer. Lips parted, she drank in Spencer’s breath and let his tongue trace a trail of hungry fire inside her mouth. One arm was trapped, pillowed beneath them, but his free hand moved, roaming over Wren’s thigh and then her hip, finally resting against the small of her back. She arched into him, sliding a hand up his chest and over his shoulder until it curled around the back of his neck, locking him into the kiss until they had to break free or pass out from lack of air.
Wren buried her face against Spencer’s shoulder to cover the smile that spread foolishly across her face. No one could see her in the dark, but still she felt the urge to hide. He pressed a kiss against her hair and she returned it in kind, a soft peck against his collarbone that made a shiver course through him. Wren’s pulse was racing again, but for an entirely different reason. Maybe that had been Spencer’s plan all along. It was difficult to panic about being trapped at the bottom of a grave if she was panicking instead about desperately wanting to kiss him again.

@zadafalcon.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:57 AM

Substituting "heart."

Jeri discovers that Oryn (a dragon, btw) is exactly her kind of nerd.

#WIPSnips

Crystal and Trylok ducked into one of the crates to put their belongings away. With a grunt, Oryn set his trunk down in the other crate. Alistair slipped past him to put his meager satchel down on the table.
A resounding THUNK had him spinning around. Something had fallen out of Oryn's trunk.
Jeri jumped at the sound, heart in her throat. "Whoa! What was that?" She stepped closer. The object that Oryn had dropped was the size of a softball, made of carved wood or bone, with multiple facets.
"Sorry..." Oryn mumbled, and made to pick it up.
"Hang on, why do you have a giant dodecahedron?"
"Actually, it's an icosahedron and it's for... you know... things."
"Things?" Jeri repeated. As Oryn scooped it up, Jeri spotted numbers on the faces. "Hang on, whoa. Let me see that." Oryn held out the object in his palm. Jeri leaned closer and gasped. "This is a die. A 20-sided die. Why do you have a D20?"
Oryn looked at her, surprised. "You know what a D20 is?"
Jeri rolled her eyes. "Of course! Well, okay, I've never seen a physical one. No one uses physical dice anymore, but I sure know what a D20 looks like!"
"Do you play?" Oryn asked excitedly. "I could run games!"
"Oh, my friends are going to love you," Jeri told him. "I'll bring them later to meet you! For now, I need to get everybody settled."

@abdecker.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:52 AM

She had a knack for inflicting exquisite pain with her fingers. Today the thickness of his jacket may have dulled the effect, but the gesture quickened the pulse in a way he had neither expected nor wanted. He avoided sharing any further memories.
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity

@rvillanova312.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:44 AM

CW:Gore, Death
#WIPSnips
Word of the day is pulse, which I don’t have so we’re going ✨vibes✨
From my short story:The Deeper We Go

-Conner thinks he sees his girlfriend, and he does… only she is lacking a pulse, her head… and parts of her body
#WritingCommunity

Holy shit, Molly, is that you?!” He shouted as he ran to the other side of the cavern, ignoring Ashley and Bec’s protests. Molly sat there as two other figures knelt beside her, and their heads were hidden.
“M-Molly?” he said quietly, touching her shoulder and gently shaking. Molly’s body fell over limply. Only a few strips of flesh kept her head attached. Chunks were ripped from her body. Conner stepped away, but someone grabbed him. It was one of the kneeling men. The man was bald, his beard was crudely shaven, and he had that same symbol carved into his head. His friends were screaming, but it was drawn out by a new noise.