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This is a thread to exchange prompts and works made off of them. You can post prompts here, or find ones that get your creativity going and post whatever you make of them–writing, poetry, or even visual art, if the image-uploader works. Feel free to change the prompts as much as you want, cut them up, or combine two of them together.
Here are a few to start.
-The first thing (name) saw when (they) woke up was that it was raining.
-(name) watched the clock ticking as…
-“That, m’dear, was then. Now things are very different.”
-There are times when I’ve heard in the silence the sigh of a faraway song.
-Summer
-Several scenes that appear at first only to be connected by ringing bells, but actually have much more in common–they could be about the same place, family, or group of friends, etc. Or use a different connecting element.
-It was the kind of (town, city) I’d dreamed about for a long time.
-The strong, nearby smell of (their) perfume mingled with the odor of distant smoke.And…
=Pick a few lines from a book, poem, or song. (#4 above is from a song.)
=Explore an idea, like freedom, winter, or sisterhood (or summer, which is #5). You don’t have to start with the idea; write about it. Like picking a theme, I guess, and writing something around it. For an OC that you already have that you’re trying to develop, you could pick an idea and write about what they think about it, which might be helpful.The inspiration for this thread is Take a bullet… that was around in Inkwell way back in the first half of the 2020s, if anyone remembers it. I just thought I’d mention that.
Anyway, use these prompts to get your creativity flowing, and to have fun! -
Oh I remember this! I’ve made quite a few good short stories from these prompts, so maybe I could do more (I’ll come back when I do).
For now, here’s a few prompts:
– We have all the time in the world.
– “Death will not be the end of me…”
– The last traces of winter had faded away, but that didn’t mean it was the end of (name)’s troubles.
– Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever see [name] again.Other Prompts:
– Start and end a story with the same line.
– Pick a color and center your story around the color.
– Pick a mythology/fairy tale story and write a twist in it or modernize it. -
These are so much fun! I love the prompts already posted.
> The mist that never clears
> Hope was hope. Hope is hope. Hope will be hope no longer.
> Of course he shouldn’t have explored the passage. So of course he did.
> A sword that was never used before
> A bird that only sings when storms approach (think Kyngdom’s Song of War Bird, but for actual weather phenomena)
> But it was a single breath of time, caught on the wind and spun into nothing.
> “Her? Oh, she’s just the Highest Princess.”
> A wizard whose only power is making snowballs >:D
> There was a flame in the shadows, even if no one saw it.
Feel free to use these! I’d love to see anything y’all come up with around them
:) -
This seems cool! I’ll gladly share some prompts. 🙂
It was then that she realized who they really were…
The taste reminded her of something… Something from a long time ago.
She then saw the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
The *insert something here* got bigger and bigger until…
They would be fine, right? -
I’m using one of Amethyst’s prompts. If anyone else wants to use the same prompt, that’s fine–it’s fun to see what different people come up with when they start with the same thing.
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“Of course he shouldn’t have explored the passage. So of course he did,” said one of the two women miserably, wiping her face with her handkerchief. “He’s such a contrary boy.”
“Was,” said the other woman, her voice sharp. I didn’t know how two people who were so different could live together–one of them was as delicate as a house of cards, and the other one eternally clenched her jaw and spoke in a hard, almost barklike voice. Sure, they were sisters, but why on earth would they choose to cohabitate once they were grown up? The answer was probably the boy. Georgie, the first woman’s son. She would have liked having an extra pair of hands around the house to help raise him. But now he was gone. Gone, I had deduced, into the warren of passages underneath the Old Town in the center of the city.
“I’m sure that we’ll find him,” came a soothing voice from my right: Maisie, my work partner. She was the kind member of our unit, and I was the brainy one. Outside of work, we were best friends, although we had little in common other than a love of the other’s company.
“We will,” I said. I looked again at the map I had pasted into my casebook. I had narrowed Georgie’s possible location down to a searchable area, but it probably contained about three miles of passages underneath the old stone shops. In the Old Town, the buildings were smaller than the ones in the surrounding areas of the city, but they were wedged together tightly, and the streets, so orderly in the Outer Town, squiggled about like the paths in a maze.
“We have defined an area of passages where he might be, but in order for us to go into it, you’ll need to pay an extra fee and sign a contract stating that you are to be held responsible should any trouble befall us.” I indicated myself and Maisie. The passages, as everyone knew, were dangerous; they might cave in at any second, and plus, they were populated by thieves and others who wouldn’t take kindly to two City Detectives crawling around. “I have the contract right here.” I handed it to the sharp woman.
“That’s a lot of money…” she started. I fought to keep from snorting. The house surrounding us was very lavish; just selling the curtains and the wallpaper from this room would more than cover the fee.
“We can spare it,” said the other woman. Her voice was trembling; I thought that her house of cards had fallen over. Her long hair, normally intricately arranged, had been unbrushed since yesterday (when Maisie and I informed her of her son’s disappearance), and her blue velvet dress was wrinkled.
“Very well.” The sharp woman (the older sister, so the one who operated their bank account) took the contract and signed her name. As I put the contract back in my briefcase, the other woman broke again into tears and said,
“Please promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he comes home.”