#dystopia writing prompt

[duaghterofstories]

Hear me out.

Dystopian YA where the main character is a normal person from our world who is body sharing with a person from the Dystopia.

It’s a comedy and a dystopia, maybe they fall in love, it has drama, it has so much world building.

Anyone have any ideas or want to read this, because I love this idea.

#dystopia #dystopia prompts #story ideas #story prompts #book #book ideas #book prompts #writing #writing prompt #dystopia writing prompt #body sharing

[viola-ohanlon]

We need kore dystopias that are just about people that live in dystopias. People who aren’t able to change the world, but want the world to be changed. The stories of people who the ones who save the world will never remember, who were just random people, who lived in a horrible world, but made the most of it, because they could never change the world, but lived with the hope someone one day could.

#dystopia #writing prompt #dystopia writing prompt

[writing-to-survive]

#89

Sleep is currency in this world. The government controls how much time you've earned to sleep. If you don't work, you don't sleep. And if you don't sleep, you'll go mad.

#fiction #writing #writing prompts #writing prompt #creative writing #fiction writing #sci fi prompt #science fiction prompt #sci fi prompts #science fiction #sci fi #dystopian #dystopia #dystopian prompt #sleep #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing-to-survive #writing to survive

[limerickshere]

To ask someone how they've been doing

Is cultur'lly rude. Start pursuing

Dystopia-friendlier

World-is-endlier

Pleasantries while you're ungluing:

"I see you're awake, I'm afraid,

Condolences." "Life's a charade."

"How does one cope"

And "I sure do hope

That aliens soon will invade"

#limericks #limerick #dystopia #dystopia-friendly pleasantries #give me a prompt #i'll write you a limerick

[the-broken-pen]

When the zombie apocalypse started, you felt only a sense of sour humor. Like on those nights when you wished you could sleep and never wake up, some cosmic entity heard you, and was taking a kind of sick vengeance.

Your friends laughed and stole liquor out of locked cabinets and took shots in the name of doom.

You went home and turned the tv all the way up and locked every single door twice. It wasn’t enough.

Don’t approach someone if they appear sick, they said. Avoid them and dial 911.

After a week they disabled emergency service lines.

Stay indoors. Only go out when necessary. Keep your distance from one another, they said.

Online, people called it a hoax.

But that footage they showed on the news, people emptied out and filled with some creature that knew only hunger, that snarled and lunged for those around them without hesitation…something in you knew without doubt that it wasn’t fake.

The government gave blinding smiles and sent every army they had. They promised everything would be fine.

Nothing would ever be fine again.

Bullets did nothing. No matter how wounded, those humans that were empty and vicious dragged themself with bloody nails after anything that pumped blood. Those soldiers died and came back, killing their friends and family and comrades.

The government stopped going on tv.

With all your precautions, with every warning you gave your friends who didn’t give a shit anymore, who took this as a sign to give up, with every tip you got from the news, it didn’t save you in the end.

Thousands, millions were dying every day and you…

One week after the start zombie apocalypse, you saw a dog. A pitiful, sick dog that whined at you and gave you mournful eyes, and you froze.

And you stopped.

And you knelt down next to it because you with your fear and your kind heart wanted to be a vet.

Because you, with all of your precaution and all of those warnings forgot everything.

A week and a day after the zombie apocalypse started, you lost control of your own body. You were filled with something so hungry every bone in your body ached.

That’s fine, you thought. I’ll die soon anyways. The people on the news said the host always died. That there wasn’t anything left inside.

Two weeks after the zombie apocalypse starts you realize that the people on the news were wrong.

You start screaming. No one bothers to try and save you.

The creature inside of you has been dragging you across this wretched planet for a month, and you crave death with the same fervor that it craves flesh. The news people, your neighbors, your family, they flee from you.

They cannot hear you begging for them to burn every scrap of you alive.

You wish they would.

Two months after the start of the zombie apocalypse the creature inside of you has run out of things to eat. You are starving. Everything hurts. Your heart is giving out.

At some point, the creature inside you starts to consume your body.

You should be dead by now

It won’t let you die

It eats your vocal cords. Rips them apart with your fingers, tears out your tongue. Peels off your flesh.

The pain consumes every thought until your nerves fry.

You count it as a blessing.

You lose your eyes, your fingers, every piece of you soon after.

You cannot bring yourself to care.

A year after the zombie apocalypse starts, your body gives out. You lie on something that feels like asphalt. The remains of your muscles and tendons and joints and bones twitch as the creature pulls once, twice, again, but you do not move.

You feel it then, as it leaves you lying there. The utter cruelty of it as it leaves you lying on the ground, when it has been the only thing keeping you alive for eleven months.

You have been dying for over a year. You have been dead in your mind for far longer.

You regret every thought you ever had about the zombie apocalypse, about the notion of quick death and reanimation.

You regret the things you didn’t do. The things you did. You can feel your heart, finally, give out.

You wish you could see the sky one more time as you slip into the dark.

But you haven’t had your eyes for a long, long while.

And with one last breath, you die alone on an empty street, with only the uncaring creature that stripped you for parts and murdered you slowly to watch you go.

#zombie #zombies #zombie apocalypse #writing #writing community #creative writing #snippet #angst #fic writing #ficlet #writing prompt #no happy ending #hurt #no comfort #gore #dystopia #whump #possession #dead #horror #fantasy #sci fi and fantasy #maybe #not sure #who knows #writblr #new on writblr #young writer

[daughterofbearsandrivers]

Horror | 0.5

She couldn't breathe. It was the first thing her mind registered as she came to consciousness. Her body felt lethargic and stiff limbed from being an awkward positioning for who knows how long. She blinked away the crusty edges of her eyes, feeling grains of dirt shift down in her hair and grimy clothes uncomfortably rubbing against her damp skin.

'It's cold.' She thought.

Encasing in strong sap like chrysalis made from secreted goop those things produce after ingesting organic materials, more preferably human remains, stuck to her body and other harvested corpses hung from the ceiling like a meat packing plant. She could literally taste the metallic iron of the rotten old blood.

'So disgusting.'

The female gripped the edge of her confining hardened goop, muscles in her arms and back burned like summer's sunrays. After several attempts she broke out, peeling away her hair and clothes from the other corpses, strings of undried fluids dripped down to the semi slippery tiled floors. She didn't have much energy to dwell on the fact she was absolutely filthy and in dire need of several washes.

'Vacations are overrat- shoot my nail is broken.'

She fleeting noticed as she tiptoed around the area, tentatively using her hands to feel around the place that is nearly pitch black. A very faint breeze of a broken air conditioning until brushed over her skin, briefly making her heart and spine become filled with ice. Swallowing back her nerves and increasingly permanent fear of the dark, the female noticed a dimly flickering light in the room across the hallway and swinging set of double doors separating the kitchen and dining area of the restaurant.

Just as she took a step in the direction of the light, she sensed it before it could she herself processed the swift action of jumping over the long industrial sized preparation table and crouching so low behind it, she might've been on all fours.

The trilling hallow clicks followed up by a rumbling growl and nearly nonaudible footfalls made the tiniest cracking noises as it's weight weakened the secreted hard goop on the floors.

She didn't dare breathe in it's looming presence. Taking small mercies and a vague sense of comfort in the fact most of the equipment here was aluminum or having an alloy of that same material. Or she would've gone the second she jumped over the table.

It steadily moved to the back areas of the restaurant in a practiced cautious manner that showed it's restraint and discipline in that moment. If she wasn't too much concerned about living, she might've found his physique to be...appealing.

The female inched her way forward to her previous designation, the flickering yellowed light that emitted low buzzing hum. Testing to make sure the swinging double doors didn't squeak or whine, she slipped through the opening. Moving in a half crouch she reached the light and found the dining areas of the restaurant to be in complete disarray of carnage and flies swirling in the air. The urge to vomit came to mind though there was nothing to regurgitate.

The remaining working streetlights of the main street spilled in an orangish yellow. Ceiling high windows were broken and it's glass fragments littered the floor like tiny diamonds. Sticking to the walls of the establishment, she carefully maneuvered around the glass, stepping on carcasses, not chancing they wouldn't hear the smallest noise.

'If there was an Olympics for 'A Quiet Place', I'd be reigning champion.'

A slow process that made her cheeks burn out of supposed embarrassment of an invisible audience and being caught unawares for making her escape too long. She swallowed thickly, she couldn't make mistakes, not one. Once she reached the door, she gently shifted the lower half of broken glass off then placed it on the ground before she quickly crawled out onto the sidewalk.

She shivered, rubbing her hands and forearms though wincing at the amount of mud she felt crusting and sticking to her skin. Lines of cars were crashed or abandoned in the main streets of the town. Looking around she waited a moment before she went over to the many vehicles, doing a quick cursory inside to look for anything she can use. Some of the vehicles were still on, a few emitting the silent broadcast of radio stations.

Seconds went by as the time ticked on burrowed minutes that stretched on for hours. On her knees in the passenger seat, she leaned towards the back as she found some water bottles and day old groceries. Just as her fingertips touched the cap of the water bottle, she felt the thin hairs of her arms raise up. Her eyes flicked up to see them, a black mass that sneered out a hiss.

'Oh shit.'

She didn't move but she couldn't stay with the passenger door open and being in a position that served her demise rather her survival. An echoing thump on the sidewalk behind her and on the rooftop of the car she was in made her cheeks blush and her ears hot out of anxiety. Most importantly they were sniffing or letting out raspy chuffs while they stood perched on the vehicles.

'I'm so screwed-'

The sudden wail of a car alarm shattered the silence, making the creatures screech then give chase to something. The panicked footsteps and labored breathing of a person sprinted by, they didn't see her as they shoved pass the open passenger door, sending her tumbling towards the back and her leg ache from getting hit by the door.

Their screams drew several more creatures from the shadows, the sheer volume of it giving ample time for her to get into the back seat of the car to sit among the groceries. Their shadows passed over head, their movements carelessly bashing into the side of the vehicles as their excitement for prey overruled their situational awareness.

'This is a nice car.'

She opened up the backseat, pulling it forward as she slid through the narrow opening of the back and pulled herself into the trunk. It was warmer in there, giving her a moment of solace and reprieve to let her body rest so her mind wouldn't be affected by lack of sleep tomorrow.

#yautja imagine #dystopia #apocalypse #post apocalyptic #horror #sci fi #aliens vs predator #predator franchise #avp #yautja #predator #xenomorph #writers on tumblr #creative writing #creative writing ideas #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing #writing prompt #fantasy #fantasy writing #fantasy world

[imagine-a-shark]

I was wondering why there's so many communist/socialist dystopias but no one writes capitalist dystopias. Worlds where only the 1% have access to basic necessities. Prices are exorbitant, wages are low, and the common people can barely afford to live. People who need medicine routinely need to make the choice between medicine and food. Businesses will pay their workers cents while charging ridiculously high prices for products. Everything is a paid subscription. No change is ever made because running for office costs money, money that people don't have, so only the rich run. Only the rich get elected. Only the rich have power to change the system, but they never do because the system benefits them. Public services like hospitals are for-profit. People avoid going to the hospital because the price of a hospital bill could ruin their life more than a possibly deadly condition. If you want an education of any worth, you have to pay. The population is uneducated and uninformed because none of them can afford decent schooling.

And then I realized that no one writes capitalist dystopia because that's just American capitalism.

#dystopia #capitalism #late stage capitalism #anti capitalism #writing prompt #writing

[promptfiction]

When the other packs see Stiles, they don't automatically think "very dangerous alpha werewolf." No, how could they when he's just a pale, skinny teenager dressed in several layers of plaid shirt? But in the middle of a war between humans and werewolves, they will realize that Stiles can be very bloodthirsty, sometimes too much.

#stiles is unhinged #stiles do not have a moral compass #especially when scott isn't around #Stiles' pack is complete with all the members in the middle of a war that has been going on for years #how do you think he managed that? #writing prompt #promptfiction #prompt #stiles #teen wolf #teen wolf prompt #fiction #alpha stiles stilinski #teen wolf au #alternative universe #hunters x werewolves war #dystopia

[polteergeistt]

What if we could manipulate genetics so we could have angels and merfolk and centaurs and basically do anything with the human genome but also consider the fact that this society is evil and this technology would 100% get weaponized so we would have evil captain america but imagine a group of rebel acquiring it through a fallen ally so we have a dystopian novel around the concept of genetic manipulation regarding the possibilities and the societal consequences and how some products of those manipulations would be adored and others ostracized and how deshumanized they would be and the biologistic classifications would all be obsolete and as products breed the number of pure beings that are not the result of a mutation on any level whatsoever gets rarer as time progresses. Which I will not write.

#polteergeistt rambles #writing #writing prompts #dystopia

[icamefromthepinterestscreenshots]

I just had an idea for a book but I can’t be bothered to write it:

A dystopian future where everyone is assigned another human. Every human is linked up to a random human at birth, so that each pair can hear each others thoughts. However, they don’t know their pair in real life. Everyone is told to report their pair if they hear ANY anti-government, anti-patriotic thoughts, complaints etc.

The government use this reporting system to get rid of ‘traitors’, therefore stopping overpopulation.

HOWEVER these 2 girls who are linked start to hear each others thoughts about love etc. and realise the other is lgbt. Obviously, being set in a dystopian world, this is very much illegal, but instead of reporting each other, they find each other and they fall in love and of course help start a revolution to overthrow the government.

Of course, theres lots of angst and fear and sadness, but in the end they get a semi-happy ending (think hunger games style - they may lose ppl but they still have each other in the end)

#writing prompt #writing #lgbt #book idea #booklr #dystopia #dystopianfuture #whump writing #whump #angst

[toodrasticallydumb]

Summary for Utopia/Dystopia: The Trollhunter—an ill-fitting changeling—, now trapped in the Darklands, snared and brought before Gunmar The Vicious, is accursed to the same rock cage, the same stone quarry, the same endless bloodbath, the same scorching glare, the same sun-less verdict, the same viceral nature as he had once been forged in all those centuries ago. ...Well...almost the same.

STRICKLAKE MONTH IS FINALLY HERE BOIS OH YES YES YES GIVE ME MORE OF MY DORKS IN LOVE

I've been waiting around for August since the first time I saw stricklake month was a thing last year (which was coincidentally very recent into my re-obsession with the show and Strickler and Barbara in particular) so to say I'm excited to participate this year is an understatement.

I may be going overboard in a lot of places. But it's fineeeee

I'm going to try to do all four prompts (I'm undecided if I'll do both art AND writing for each but be sure I'll at least do one of the two for any given week it's the curse of being both a writer and artist, I must bear it) so here's week 1's prompt in writing form! Utopia/Dystopia! Because I didn't realize you needed to pick one! And not both! But I technically did more Utopia so!

#toa trollhunters #toa barbara #barbara lake #toa strickler #walter strickler #strickler #stricklake #jim lake junior #jim lake jr #fan fic writing #my fic #fanfiction #tales of arcadia #toa #keenswimmers2023 #prompt: utopia/dystopia #stricklake month #i made it so long T-T #i was being indulgent okay? #i couldn't stop myself #despite all of my best friend's outrage and disbelief #i made it long #oops #trollhunter!strickler #trollhunter!strickler au #Destiny's Ill-fitted Chosen #does this count as a main fic update? #i hope it does #it's technically the same story! #c'mon now give me this pls

[blusnowflakes]

A: "so, you offering an alliance?"

B: "no, i'm offering a friendship."

#prompt #quote prompt #writing prompt #writing #otp prompts #writeblr #writing prompts #dialogue #dialogue prompt #writing dialogue #enemy to lovers #dystopia #dystopia au

[rjalker]

since I keep forgetting and the post keeps getting too long:

feral cat going on a rant to a former, and only just recently strayed indoor only cat about how no, being feral does not mean you're some super cool hero who knows everything and is always one step ahead of everything and living a life of amazing fun adventure. It means never having shelter or safety and knowing that the humans who brought you here broke their promise to not only you, but to your parents and their parents, and now they're all fucking gone so there's no more chances for them to even fix it. Being feral means not knowing whether you're going to survive the day or whether the flowers you're walking past are going to kill you. It means knowing your existence is actively destroying the world around you but you can't do anything about it except decide to die, and what the fuck kind of choice is that?

for a book about the pets left to fend for themselves after the apocalypse.

you are 100% encouraged to take this idea and run with it. It came from a dream I had several years ago now that I just randomly remembered for some reason.

Edit:

You know what, all my books are gonna be public domain anyways, you can just have the two things I wrote for this and use them as writing prompts for your own original story.

= = =

Quote #1

That was the final straw.

"What do you mean you don't know?" [Indoor only cat] burst out, whirling on [Feral cat] "You're feral, aren't you?! You're supposed to know these kinds of things! What do you mean, 'I don't know'??"

[Feral cat] leapt backward and landed, back arched, ears pinned as [Y] hissed, tail twitching just above the ground. A growl started building in [Feral cat]'s throat as [Indoor only cat] stared, shocked by the display of open and abject fear in every line of [Feral cat]'s body.

"What are you--" [A] started to say, bewildered, taking a step forward.

[Feral cat]'s growl turned into a yowl, and [Indoor only cat] froze, unable to comprehend what was happening.

They stayed like that for a dozen racing heartbeats before [Indoor only cat] realized that backing away might be a good idea. And so would apologizing, now that [pronoun] thought about it. [A] backed up several steps, fighting to keep [C] body language relaxed and calm.

“I wasn't trying to scare you.” [Indoor only cat] said,

= = =

Quote #2

"You think that's what feral means? You think being feral means knowing this kind of shit? You think ferals are kings of the streets, fearing nothing, knowing everything? Who the fuck told you that bullshit, your family's free roaming dog? Probably wanted to cover for the fact that he hadn't killed any of us yet and wanted to make himself feel better! You want to know what feral means, lapcat? It means watching all of your siblings die from the cold, or disease, or because they ran into the road and didn't see the car coming. It means watching your mother get killed by a stinking dog with a fancy collar and a shiny tag because her owner couldn't be bothered to keep her on a leash, and she thinks disemboweling cats is the greatest fun since humans invented squeaky toys! Feral means knowing that every human who sees you either hates your stinking guts and will try to run you over, or doesn't give a shit whether you live or die, just as long as you do it somewhere out of sight. It means knowing that your parents parents were house cats, living it up in luxury, just like the humans promised, until one day their humans realized your grandmother was pregnant, and decided they weren't worth the effort of keeping around anymore, not when there'd be kittens to feed, and broke their stinking promise by throwing them out on the street to fend for themselves. Feral means starving every day until you get lucky, and knowing every time you do that every other animal in this stinking city wants you dead with a vengeance. We don't stinking belong here, do you even understand that? We're not supposed to be here! The humans stinking brought us to this whole island, and they were supposed to take care of us, keep us safe inside their homes where nothing could hurt us and we wouldn't have to hurt the wildlife!

We came with the humans, and they were supposed to uphold their end of the bargain, but they didn't! They just kept breaking it, and didn't even try to fix things!

Even the ones who said they wanted to help you, they don't really care at all, they just want to stop you from having kittens, but they don't care what happens to you!

You see this stinking notch on my ear? That's from the human I thought was going to adopt me, bring me home and keep me safe – Well guess what? She lied! She didn't want to help me, she just wanted to stop me from having my own kittens some day, and as soon as that was done, she threw me back into the woods! She just kept stinking saying it was better this way, because I would be so sad if I was brought inside, and she didn't want to listen when I begged her not to put me back! And she didn't listen! Because she didn't care!

The humans brought us here, and broke their promise, and now you, one of the stinking lucky ones, think being feral is a good thing? You think it's a stinking mark of pride? You think it means I know anything and everything I need to to survive out here?

You think I can tell you whether or not this stinking carcass is safe to eat? You think being feral means I magically know what's going to kill me? What's next, you're gonna tell me you think I somehow know when it's safe to cross the street without a human running me over? Have you seen my stinking tail? I'll give you three guesses to how that happened!

Being feral is not some cool heroic stinking journey, housecat, it's a stinking nightmare, brought down on us by shitty humans who couldn't be bothered to do the one job they'd accepted! And now it's too stinking late for them to fix any of it, because now they're all gone, and they're never coming back!

Even if some of them are still alive, none of them are coming back for us, because now you, and the rest of your housekept friends, are no better than we are – feral. And to humans, feral means stinking useless. And don't you give me some sob story about how your human is different, your human really cares, your human is going to come back for you. You lived right on top of ground zero. Your human was probably dead before the first night was even over.”

= = =

and yes these could just be part of the same scene but I wrote them separately, so you can just mush them together if you want.

The key point here is that they have to have actual cat body language though, so if you don't know what that looks like you should definitely learn before writing this. pro tip: cats don't hiss when they're angry.

#writing prompts #writing ideas #story ideas #xenofiction #xenofiction prompts #xenofiction ideas #fictional animal death #animal death #apocalypse prompts #dystopia prompts #idk #long post

[writing-to-survive]

#96

Every year, there are a series of competitions. Everyone loves them. If you win in the end, you get your greatest wish granted. Let that be riches or power. You have always hated the competitions after someone you cared about died during one. As an act of revenge, you decide to join in these games and win. Once—and if—you win, your wish will be to end the games once and for all.

#fiction #writing #writing prompts #writing prompt #creative writing #fiction writing #revenge #dystopian #dystopia #competition #right or wrong #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing-to-survive #writing to survive

[daily-dose-of-writing]

#520

“Sanctuary!” Cried the child as they burst through the library doors.

“Nice try,” the officer sneered, baton raised, “but only holy places can grant sanctuary.”

The librarians, having taken note of the situation, rushed in front of the child. With brows drawn and teeth bared, they growled: “Sanctuary granted.”

#writing #prompts #writing prompts #dystopia #dialogue prompts #daily dose of writing #story prompts #story ideas #writing ideas

[the-broken-pen]

“What would you give,” the villain drawled. “To save the world?”

The hero swallowed. Their arms hurt in the binding, pressed too tight against their skin.

“Everything.”

The villain tipped their head.

“Mmm. Lovely. But I have everything. Try again.”

The hero did know, they didn’t know what the villain wanted and the world was going to burn and people were going to die and it hurt—

“Whatever you want,” the hero blurted. “Take it.”

The villain smiled.

“You panic so pretty, darling.” The villain crouched down in front of them. They tipped the hero’s chin up with one elegant finger. “What I want,” they said slowly, like a secret. “Is you.”

“I—“

“You think yourself worth the world, then? I release you, and the world burns so you can stay free and live the rest of your meaningless life. After all, what’s a hero without anyone to save?”

The blood drained from the hero’s face. Their powers lay aching, stolen in their chest.

“No,” they said, and they weren’t sure if it was a plea or a command.

The villain stood.

“You or the world, hero. I’d take either, given the chance,” their eyes burned into the hero’s. “Choose.”

A tear, one, traitorous tear, slid down the grime on the hero’s cheek.

“Me,” they whispered.

Something dark simmered in the villain’s gaze.

“Look at you. Such a good hero, saving the world,” they cooed. They motioned a guard to haul the hero to their feet. “I’m going to have so much fun watching you break.”

The hero never saw the outside world again.

They just hoped it was safe.

#angst #heroes and villains #snippet #writing #hurt/comfort #whump writing #whump #obsession #dark villain #fantasy #dystopia #original content #original work #original character #creative writing #writing community #fic writing #love #writing prompt #ficlet #flash fiction #sad writing #writers and poets #march writing challenge #writers and readers #writers on tumblr #writblr #my fic #fiction