eggbug_writes | Entries tagged with writing

You know what that means?

It means there are like 30 chapters of this story under different names, and no good way to navigate them post-cohost!

Let's rectify that real quick.

Better Off Alone: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9
This is the original story, following an ill-tempered princess as she falls for her transfem knight and tries to cheat fate.

Necrosis: 1-2-3-4-5
A mini arc that follows the leader of the adventuring party Lunaeris and Kallixenia join up with, as she tries to figure out an impossible spell and a confusing catgirl.

Better Off Together: 1-2-3-4-5
One-off looks into some of their adventures.

Beast Of Burden: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-Epilogue
The second arc of Better Off Alone. Faced with Lunaeris' refusal to be protected by her oath, Kallixenia tries to navigate her relationship with her church and gods.

I also have a ko-fi now, if you like the story and want to support me check it out!

amiserablepileofwords

Monster who is looking for their lost pe— Ah, there she is! Now, don't make any sudden movements…

amiserablepileofwords

Girls who are dancing queens

amiserablepileofwords

Monster who sent you so many omens, why didn't you do anything?

amiserablepileofwords

Girls who are the best of friends

amiserablepileofwords

Girls who are raising glasses

amiserablepileofwords

Girls who have overstayed their welcome

gullwingdoors

Based off the writing prompt "Girls who are in tents"(Eternal Sapphtember #19).)

""Sit still."

"What if I told you that sitting still is making it feel exponentially worse?"

"Just- *nngh!*"

Pop! "AUGH!"

"- long enough for me to do that." Mira popped Noel's shoulder back into alignment, gear-teeth finally locking back together fully, and the intense pain in Noel's shoulder faded. "How's it feeling?" Noel only coughed in response, a faint magical shimmer visible in her breath from the dim lamp-light from above.

Her larger companion, who hadn't bothered to remove the plate from anything but her chest, sighed. "You know, I bet it's really pretty out there."

"Don't taunt me.""

(continuing doing stuff in this particular setting while we've got the inspiration! find it here!)

mentat_emulator

Written for Vamptober prompt number 9 (yes, I'm doing them out of order)

Vampire who is still growing in their new fangs.

It is approximately 1400 words long, or about 2 pages. It contains:
Captivity
Torture
Starvation
Mild Gore
It's a good deal darker than my usual work, but I do hope you enjoy!

The hunter arose at sunset, as befit one of her profession. She made her ablutions as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind forested hills dusted with the first snow of winter. With care, she made a circuit of the safe-house's interior, ensuring the wards were still in place at every possible entrance. Religious symbols and sacred herbs could not stop an experienced vampire for long, but they bought precious time to prepare for an intrusion. Each had been ritually bound to her, so that their destruction would not go unnoticed. Unlikely that her quarry's sire would find her this far from the city, but precautions were still warranted.

Satisfied, she made her way to the kitchen and prepared a small pot of porridge. The provisions here were meager stuff, but it was better than the travel rations in her pack. A warm bowl of anything was preferable to hard tack and jerky. She ate her fill, cleaned the dishes, and then prepared herself for the night's ministrations.

She donned her vestments, tied back her hair, strapped her tools to her waist, and finally drew on long gloves of brown leather, studded here and there with dots of silver. Her neck was protected by a steel gorget, engraved with the symbols of her order. She took up her book of observations, lit a candle, and thus armed, descended into the basement.

( Read more... )

amiserablepileofwords

Girls who are poets

mentat_emulator

Written for Vamptober prompt number 6 (yes, I'm doing them out of order)

Vampire who can't thrall your mind, but can thrall your body.

It is approximately 1900 words long, or about 3 pages. It contains:
Implied Violence
Power Imbalance
Dom/Sub Dynamics
Dolls!
Please enjoy!

Great tapestries adorned the walls of the Dollmaker's home, each depicting scenes of service and humility, as one might expect from the products of dolls. Felicity stared at them as she and her Master were led through the impressive estate, wondering how long it must have taken to create so many, and how many dolls were dedicated to the task. Perhaps they were fast with a needle.

She glanced past her Master's shoulder, at the doll who escorted them. They were fascinating creatures, but they made Felicity uneasy. There was something uncanny about them, she thought, in the way they moved, the way their faces could emote only so much within the limits of their artificial construction. And there was the question of how artificial they really were. One could, as a vampire (or near enough), detect the vital essence, the life within any given doll. Was it all magic, or...? It gave her goosebumps.

The doll stopped at a closed door, and gently knocked. The voice of the Dollmaker came from within.

“Yes, my dear?”

( Read more... )

mentat_emulator

Written for Vamptober prompt number 28 (yes, I'm doing them out of order)

Vampire who runs the underworld — no, it's a licensed bar and music venue, what do you mean?

It is approximately 1600 words, or about 3 pages long. Enjoy!

It was Wolf Night down at the Underworld, and Benny was feeling lucky. He'd gotten the idea in is head, encouraged by his cadre of admirers, that he deserves to lead his own pack. The young werewolves looked up to him, all of twenty-nine years old, and had been whispering in his ear about it for months. But he can't just declare himself a leader; he needs permission from at least three elders to split off from the Heights pack without serious repercussions.

And who should happen to be at the bar tonight, but Old Tessa (don't let her hear you say 'Old,' or god help you), the most reclusive of his pack elders. He had been in a room with her only once before, at his induction six years ago. She was memorable though – six-foot-four, built like a warhorse, with her short blonde hair giving way to silvery gray. The younger women swooned over her, pack of rabid lesbians that they mostly were, and even Benny had to admit that she had a certain beauty for her age. But Tessa only really kept company with wolves her own age (and, it was rumored, other things), and rarely gave direct guidance to the young. It must say something about her character that she was still highly respected, and maintained her title as elder, despite this.

( Read more... )

pinkbun

Slimetember prompt - Ooze That's Pretending To Be a Suit of Armor

"Where is she?"

The party was gathered at the town gate, waiting on their Paladin. It wasn't too unusual for Constanze to be late, especially since she met her new girlfriend. Still, she was certainly taking a while, especially for a day they'd planned a dungeon delve. The party leader, a Cleric, continued to pace while the Mage and Fencer sat around impatiently, until finally they heard the voice of their companion calling out to them.

"I'm here! I'm here, sorry I'm late!" she called as she jogged up. "I was just-"

"What in the abyss are you wearing?" The Paladin's excuse was cut off as the party leader interjected.

Instead of her usual well-kept scale cuirass, Constanze Bulwark sported a bizarre armor of translucent pink. One could clearly see her leathers through the material, and the way it followed her movements was slightly.... odd.

pinkbun

The first piece I'll put up here will be the first fiction I've really written. It's mostly vignettes of various sceneries and societies of a fantastical world. It began as a twitter thread; a place to put little ideas I had while bored at work. I'm still quite proud of it~

--

A flat world. Infinitely spreading in the horizontal plane. Vertically, it loops around (if you dig down, you'll eventually fall into the sky) but it's a long journey, I think

The sun is.... idk, big magelights? I don't know the specifics of how that could work. Some powerful god-sorcery that keeps 24-hour days across the world. At night, the stars are the twinkle of minerals in the distant ground above

Gravity is constant everywhere (straight down), as is atmospheric pressure. No thinner air as you go up

--

Different civilizations on an infinite world, many of which will never meet. Tunnel people, living underground. Sky people, living in the clouds. Water people, island people, tree people, every kind of development people could try. People who live on the underside of the ground, a city hanging above the sky (western air temple style). A nomadic people, who delight in meeting the wide and various civilizations across the plane. An endless waterfall, pouring through a hole in the ground to fall back into its reservoir

Every conceivable civilization could exist because none could ever achieve universal reach. Internet, faster-than-light travel, even conquering empires would have a finite spread, and leave other civilizations untouched by their influence.

--

Read more (links to the original post)

Current Mood: with thanks to Discworld
Current Location: The Plane

amiserablepileofwords

Note: This is a repost-as-is of a piece posted to Cohost on the 12th of September 2023 in response to a prompt by Making-up-Mech-Pilots that read: "Mech Pilot who takes a callsign to protect themselves from the Fae."

Be warned, I went very purple and pulpy on this one.

"Miserable human. What is the meaning of... this?" the offended, duplicitous Fae infiltrator that thought it had found an easy mark gestured at the pilot formerly known as Sarah Williams' mech. At the flickering display where her name and callsign were supposed to be etched, ready for the picking for its nefarious purposes. The old-timey CRT, unhackable, was busy drawing new, unpronounceable phosphorescent sigils every half-second, the overlaying patterns blending into each other. Muddying the waters. Giving the despised enemy nothing to work with.

"Oh, that?" the pilot grinned cockily, her perfectly made-up lips giving the smile a lurid, bloody sheen. A portent of things to come. "See, when I was assigned to the front lines, I was warned about your kind. How you trick our people. Good, God-fearing human souls. Take their names, make unwilling double agents out of them with your devilish powers. Make them do unspeakable things in your unholy name... Of course, I already knew this."

Read the full promptfic here