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@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.

@cassiepremosteele.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 12:23 PM

poeTRYhealing: Write Your Way to Inner Wisdom - Live today at 11 AM PT/ 2 PM ET/ 8 PM in Europe. Free, mindful, trauma-informed journaling and self care.

insig.ht/e/H6UjQucZa7b

#writing #poetry #writingcommunity #writingprompts #poetrycommunity #healing

Insight Timer
OCT 12
Live Event • 02:00pm ET
PoeTRYhealing: Write Your Way To Inner Wisdom
Cassie Premo Steele, Ph.D.

@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.

@lagahoo.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:11 AM

Locked, together we
Find shelter in each other.
Delta storms are strong.

#HaikuFeels #vss365 #HaikuSky #Poetry #MicroPoetry #PoetryCommunity #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #BlueSkyPoets #WriteSky #Poem #SkyPoets #HaikuCommunity

@lagahoo.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 11:10 AM

Delta heard the crime
Chi had done, but for the weak
Silence feels safer.

#vss365 #Haiku #HaikuSky #Poetry #MicroPoetry #PoetryCommunity #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #BlueSkyPoets #WriteSky #Poem #SkyPoets #HaikuCommunity

@pykeredrock.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 10:48 AM

Haven’t been very engaged with #WritingPrompts lately due to new job + extra parenting duties, but hopefully I can get back to it in a few weeks. I have a backlog of posts I wanna make 😅

#WriteSky

@stephanloy.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 10:30 AM

#WIPSnips The word is 'pulse.' From 'Nightwatch.'
During interrogation of the White One, our neurodivergent Dr. Rodriguez shoves a tablet under the alien's nose. #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #AmWriting

A barely noticeable twitch of the White One's hood. What did the doc…? Garrett lifted away from the wall and stepped closer to see the tablet screen.
A world map. Lines crisscrossing the image, intersecting in tiny dots. Some of those dots pulsed red, or yellow. "What's that?" he asked.
"A network of theoretical access points between the Nightmareverse and 54 Zanthwood by 3," the doc said. "Factored and prioritized according to Bleed permeability."
"What?"
"We need a more precise designation for the Nightmareverse."
"They're ley lines," Eglemann translated. "They're tears in spacetime between our universe and the bad place. We've been watching them for about a year. She thinks they've existed for centuries."
"Theoretical," Rodriquez said, tilting her head marginally at her engineer.
"It's all bullshit, Sinfonee. You can't track this stuff. We don't have the physics."

@sptroweresq.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 9:22 AM

Thanks #WIPSnips - todays word has highlighted just how often variations of 'neon pulse' appear in the current draft of The Master System!
#AmEditing #TheAmbivalenceChronicles
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity

Phil Grundy did not know where he was.

A few moments ago he was in a dark tower in a spooky forest in the grounds of Romford Castle. He had rescued Charlie, and then... somehow he must have glitched that world out of existence and ended up here, landing awkwardly with an uncomfortable clatter on a floor which was hard and glass-like, denting his armour and bruising his bottom. An angry squall of pixels illuminated the void as they fell around him, drawn into neat lines which then flowed away in neon blue pulses toward the horizon, which was marked with vast towers, pyramids and monoliths of bright green and red, which struck a weird note of familiarity despite the utter weirdness of the entire place. 'Fascinating,' he Spocked, peering into the glassy floor at the gridlines which glowed deep within it, all silver and angular, and giving off the same backlit Tron vibes as the neon pulses and monochrome background illustration. 'What is this place?'

@tarasgeir.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 9:04 AM

Ngl, I was thinking of the goo in Ghostbusters 2 with this snip.
A brief glimpse of the god inside Slate. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

There was no longer any flash, now Slate's eyes pulsed a vivid shade of blue. Brighter than a clear, summer sky. For something that should have been a comfort, all Halla now felt was a chilling fear. Slate's face changed subtly. It became blanker and her skin was clear but also had a waxy sheen. A mask that had pushed its way up through her pores.

"They're trying to free her."

The voice wasn't Slate's and the face was one Halla had seen many times in the Orbo. Cracked and weathered above temple entrances. The Fifth Sister, Calchas. Halla caught her breath, feeling cold air rattle through her teeth. She had witnessed a god so many times, but the Sixth Sister had been cowed and pathetic. This god was none of that. Her eyes blazed with such a heat that Halla expected Slate's face to shrivel.

Instead, it melted.

Slathers of pink slime began to run down Slate's head, from forehead to chin.

@writerlaurabee.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 8:46 AM

#LitHodgepodge 12

For Veronica, he must be gorgeous, talented, charismatic and taller than her. Choosing her proves she's special too and proves her mom wrong--that she isn't too tall, too skinny, too ginger to win a man.

A trophy man, in other words.

#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WriteSky

@andrewbrucelockhart.co.uk Oct 12, 2026, 8:16 AM

#WIPSnips

The word for October 12th is "pulse"

From Atlas Rising

General Rourke vs being asked nicely

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

As he followed her, Rourke pulled the folded paper from his pocket and read it.

“I need you leading the task force on this. Working directly for me. Please.” The Prime Minister’s neat handwriting continued, “Bernadette will show you to your office.”

Rourke stopped walking.
Bernadette did too.
‘He needs you.’ She made her way back to stand beside him. ‘Please?’
‘I’m only here to see—’
‘She’s waiting for you in your office, sir.’
Then she set off again.
Rourke watched her.
Thinking hard, pulse accelerating.
Then he followed.
They’d said please, after all.

@motheroftrauma.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 8:02 AM

Loss brings up so many feelings and emotions.

motheroftrauma.com/2026/10/11/g...

#blogger #writingprompts #grief #loss

@unusedopenings.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 8:01 AM

Massage

#WritingCommunity #Writing #Writers #WritingPrompts #LiminalOpenings

@thatvoidauthor.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 7:52 AM

When you have to make THAT call.

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts #WriteSky

It wasn’t like he was expecting his contact to answer. At best, he could request a call back that may never come.
Fine.
With deliberate care, he set up the comm to minimize field of view and logged into SIDNet. And was honestly surprised that his access still worked.
It was limited, as a quick check confirmed. No access to the sort of information that might help him.
But apparently, for SID, there was no such thing as an ex-asset.
The man he wanted wasn’t listed, of course. But he remembered the comm code. It was one of those things that had become etched in his memory, probably impossible to erase.
The connect screen came up, gray and ominous.
Fifteen more seconds, then he could leave a message and go back to sleep.
Except that the fucking call connected and amber eyes regarded him from the second-most terrifying face he’d ever encountered.
He sat up straighter.
“Sir.”
“Operative Rutherford.”
And it turned out Admiral Qamar was no less intimidating over comm than he was in person.
“Just Ed these days, Sir.”
And he’d just corrected an Admiral. Necessary. But, holy shit.
“Very well… Ed. Any particular reason for this call? Or were you just feeling social?”
His mouth had gone dry and his pulse was fluttering like a trapped bird. But he kept his face and voice neutral.
“I need to request your help, Sir. As it affects Ri—I mean, Spook, Sir.”
His phrasing was deliberate. The admiral and Rina were close. Ed was banking on that fact, although the silence felt oppressive. Finally Qamar sat back and inclined his head.
“Very well, Ed. Tell me everything. You wouldn’t want me to get bored.”

@melwaverly.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 7:32 AM

From WIP2 - Wishing You Knew

Shannon's having a moment.

#WIPSnips #QueerWriters #WritingPrompts #Shaqueline #SapphicWriters #sapphicauthors #WriteSky #Sapphic

Then Jacqueline’s first notes rang through the room, beginning in a rich, smoky contralto before rising into a warm, silvery mezzo. The voice Shannon knew from records suddenly felt different—more unguarded, more alive than she’d ever imagined, carrying a confidence that seemed effortless.
Shannon’s breath caught. Every muscle, every synapse, every tiny hair on her body snapped to attention.
Her focus narrowed until there was only Jacqueline, her guitar, and Shannon herself. When Jacqueline’s gaze found hers, something inside Shannon’s chest shifted. She knew it was only a look, but for one impossible moment, she imagined Jacqueline was singing just for her.
When the song ended, a quiet round of applause filled the room. At least she thought it did. Their hands were moving, but she couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her pulse.
Mel Waverly - Wishing You Knew, chapter 12

@ewanstone.uk Oct 12, 2026, 7:30 AM

🌶️ CW: SEX

#pulse (throb) from Far Worlds, Book Three of the Lonely Ship Saga.

Young lovers Demi (a heat-drinking undead) and Aki (a cat-boy) take measures to power the ship.

(Read Lonely Ship here! ewanstone.uk/110-2/)

#writingcommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPsnips #spaceopera #erotica #nsfw

The couple’s chosen den, the long storage cupboard that had last been used as a cell for the Flamefall soldier Sleighbor, also lacked the comfort that she liked in medical or an empty bunk room. But she had learned how to lock this door from the inside using the tactical lean of a support splint, so it was at least private. And the clothing forming a fabric matting beneath her wasn’t uncomfortable when shared with someone else. In any case, Aki had approached her boldly just now and taken her hand with the serious proclamation that, ‘The ship requires anima, so we have to go and have sex.’ Her lovely, shy boy was rarely so forward, and she had to reward him so that he’d do it again some time.
Aki thrust himself against her naked pussy with the low growl of a hunting cat. He clearly enjoyed the pressure against his cock, and Demi enjoyed the heat of the blood rumbling in his throbbing tip. His sleek, black tail was swishing above them. He laid a hand on her bare arm and slid it upwards towards her shoulder, and it felt wonderful.
But they’d achieve nothing like this. Demi and Aki had recently been experimenting with substances that could replicate the slickness of a human vagina. Demi had no idea where you could discreetly purchase such a substance, so they had needed to get creative. Something that didn’t drain their resources meant most of the surplus in medical was out, and keeping their skin healthy crossed off a lot of engineering. Therese would have known something good, but…

@pauldixon.bsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 6:44 AM

Heartbeat for pulse today. From Second Carpathians. Fun fact about me: two separate times in my life I had work, if briefly, as a professional eel feeder. At least sort of. It's a long story.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

She opened her mouth to respond, forgetting for a moment that she was underwater. Water rushed in, and she convulsed, lungs spasming, filled with the horrible certainty that she had just drowned herself.
Except she could breathe. Without trouble, because it wasn’t water but oxygenated gel, the kind of thing she had sucked into her lungs so many times during high-gee transits.
“Who has?” she asked.
“Magellanix,” the moray said. It twisted and turned grotesquely in the remains of Alejandro’s rotting skull. “You have been chosen.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Of course, you do. They’ve come to take you home.”
“Take me… home?” she repeated dully, still not comprehending. “It can’t be. You’re wrong. They would never have picked me.”
“The best and brightest.” The eel was mocking her now, its voice unmistakably Alejandro’s, but when had that happened? “Congratulations,” it added, grinning.
“But…” Could it be? Was such a thing possible? In an instant, she knew with utter clarity it was true. “I’ll come back. I promise!”
“No, you won’t. No one ever does. You’ll forget this place in a heartbeat, Captain.”
“But…” she stammered, confused. “A heartbeat is a long time!” Thinking — mine only beats twelve times a minute.

@sainiku.northsky.social Oct 12, 2026, 6:27 AM

#WIPSnips

Some world and character building.

Their technology utilizes raw magic as a power source. The engines described here have simplified properties of real-world electric motors, but use magic and mythril in place of electricity and magnets.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Lusana drove us in her carriage west, to the city of Kressa.

She made me promise not to ask about the carriage. She made me promise not to mention it to anyone. She made me promise not to inspect the carriage. She made me promise not to even think about the carriage.

Both trains and carriages were fascinating technologies. The engines produce alternating pulses of raw magic from batteries which — with clever usage of the attractive and conductive properties of mythril — create motion. Miniaturization for carriages, however, was still fairly new.

So new… that nobody owned a carriage. Only very specific businesses even had permits to have them. So I was very happy not to ask where she obtained her extremely illegal carriage.