Forums » Creative Corner » Read Thread

Share your short stories, poems, collaborative works, original artwork and more.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Last week's rankings are as follows:

1) mizal 2) firegrill 3) Crescentstar 4) Wizzycat 5) ZagHero 6) Matthias 7) Gemini4Ever

Judging last week's entries was hard >~< They were so good!

Anyways, I apologize for the late post. It seems I fell asleep yesterday while writing this. I apologize ^^

This was the last week for the art contest, so we'll be going back to no prizes other than the satisfaction of writing something, and all that. Actually...About the "no prizes" thing, mizal suggested something which I thought was a very good idea.
The winner of each week's writing prompts gets to pick one of next week's writing prompts. It has to be either a plot idea, a picture, or a quote, and I have to approve of it. So this week, if you win, please PM me when you have thought of something ^-^

Thank you, everyone, for ending the art contest prompts on such a strong note!

Without further ado, here is this week's writing prompts;

1) What if you were just the side character in a story?

2) A winter journey

3) "Are we the only ones left?"


Stealing the tagging list from Axiom, and tagging everyone that has expressed interest in the past. Please inform me if you don't wish to be tagged to this anymore.

@WouldntItBeNice @Steve24833 @JJJ-thebanisher @bbshark @Bucky @mizal @FrankIevatus @TheNewIAP @Romulus @TacocaT @Crescentstar @Mayana @Zulutrader @MasonJarGuzzi @Ogre11 @malkalack @Charaxes @eshspoyeofdoom @RoyalGhost_007 @StillWatersRunDeep @temporaryaccount @ISentinelPenguinI @Drew8521 @Orange @LickReborn @ZagHero @Gemini4Ever @Bannerlord @Taylor_Boulet @Madhattersdaughter @MrMustachio @firegrill @WizzyCat

As always, anyone is free to join- not just the people tagged, and there is no time limit. You can go back and do any of the writing prompts at any time.

Have fun, everyone ^_^

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Congrats, everyone!! Loved your pieces, mizal and firegrill. *mew* Let's make it hard to judge for Seto this week too. >:) Oh, and this week's prompts are awesome. :3

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Question about prompt one: do we write a story about a side character? Then doesn't he/she become a main character?

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Hmm...that's true xD
I was thinking more of writing a story about the role of a supporting character though, if that makes sense. The companion of the main hero, the one who stands in the background while the main character fights evil and all that xD

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

I think a rather good example of the prompt is this.

What I take from the prompt is that the main character is someone who would typically be a side-character (such as the storygame mentioned: Super man is not the main character, but Aiden is.) in a story, offering a different perspective from the norm.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Like the beginning of Steve's Prophecy?

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

¨Are we the only ones left?¨

    I wake up at 4;23 a.m., to the sound of my mother banging on the door telling me to get up."Alyssa ! Alyssa! Time to get up honey!

she  says.  She´s saying that people are going into houses and taking all children that may be witches. My mom is really freaked out,

she  says that  a man is banging on the  door and tells me to hide. She runs downstairs to stall the man while i hide, but then I hear my

mom yell and all of a sudden a gunshot, I am so scared that I knock something over. But before it could land I caught it so that he

wouldn't hear me, right at that moment i get a  text from my best friend Christina. She said that strange people had come to her

house and killed her mother. I told her that they had come to my house already and that my mom was dead too, that i was upstairs in

my room hiding in the secret room in my closet. Christina says that she is hiding in her walk-in closet inside of her old play room that

we used to play house in. Then i get a text from my boyfriend Aiden and he is freaked out too, his mom and dad had been shot too.He

said that he  was hiding in his attic. Then my friend get's a text from her boyfriend Marc and his parents were shot also, he was hiding

in his attic inside a closet behind some clothes. We all decide that we will go to Christina's house and hide in the play house in her

closet, and we decided that we would stay there until it was time to see of anyone else was alive.  By 5:00 a.m. we were all in her closet

inside her huge play house. Each of us pack everything that we can, I brought my sleeping bag,a whole bunch of my favorite movies my

favorite blanket, my favorite pillow,  most of my clothes, all  of my valuables. I brought my IPhone 5, and my 5s,and my IPhone 6s,and

including  the chargers. I bring a picture of my me, my mom, and my dad. Aiden brought a sleeping bag,a whole bunch of movies, most

of his clothes,his IPhone 5, his  5s and his IPhone 6s, including the chargers, his favorite blanket ,and his favorite pillow. Marc brought

the exact same thing as his brother Aiden, except he also brought all of his favorite ice cream inside a portable ice chest. Around 6:30 

a.m. everyone is asleep. Everyone is asleep until about 8:30 a.m. Then we all decide to get some food, which since no one was too 

hungry, someone just ran downstairs to get 4 bowls and 4 spoons. We all dig into one carton of ice cream and share stories about 

our childhood. Then after 4 hours of talking everyone fell asleep for 3 hours, so when we woke up around 3:30 we all decided to go for 

a walk, we send Marc to go make sure the coast is clear, he gives the signal to come downstairs and to go outside but when we get

outside we notice that everything is trashed. Every window is broken, there are dead parents all over the place and blood everywhere,

we look around and Christina asks "Are we the only ones left?"

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Edit Lock. Also, do you write on your phone? You make incessant grammar errors.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Nope, she types on a computer, actually. 

And edit locking isn't required now since the art contest is over.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

But aren't you still ranking? :0

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Well, I'd prefer just choosing who's in first place, but perhaps ranking would be good.
Okay, in that case...edit lock when you guys are done ^^

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
Yeah I'm not sure what happened with that one, for one thing the formatting is weird. Looks like it even changes font or size or something halfway through for no particular reason.

e: I love how sociopathic all these kids are

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

So like, is this actually not a troll? Because I genuinely don't see how it can be anything else.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

She's actually not a troll :(

She's a friend of mine that I introduced to the site, hoping she'd improve her writing. It seems she doesn't take criticism well, though ^^

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
Oh. Interesting.

I don't do critiques on this particular board unless by request, but yeeeaaah, I could see some room for improvement there.

If she wanted to post this on the WW with specific questions about grammar or whatever I could give some examples of the basics, but I guess if she's not interested there's no point.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Eh, if you want, just give the criticism to her. I would say do it nicely, but sometimes there's no way around it xD

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Is she the same person as Read4Ever?

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Nope. I actually know her in real life.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

She's a lost cause, then.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Since you asked so nicely. Criticism is greatly appreciated. I'm not sure if this counts, because I only loosely followed the prompts.


Winter is cold. Winter takes.

I woke up, shivering. My barely-awake mind struggled to remember the dream I'd just had. It skirted around the edges of my memory, an echo of fear that slowly faded away into nothingness. I couldn't remember anything, however. Perhaps some things were best left forgotten.

I looked outside. It was snowing again.


It was always a struggle to wake up in the mornings, especially since there didn't seem to be a reason to anymore.
What was the point of waking up in a dead world?
But I did. Day after day; so many that I'd lost track at some point.


Do not editlock. WIP

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
Oh dang, I didn't even notice this thread. Last week was pretty crazy, I'm just now catching up on a lot of things.

I really like the first prompt, but, I also really really need to stay focused on my CYOA the rest of the weekend so I'm not sure if I'll be able to join in.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Is it possible for me to join this?

And if so, are there any restrictions or rules about our replies - such as word count for example.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Of course you can join! There's no restrictions or rules except for sticking to a prompt (and, of course, nothing too... >~> graphic, I suppose).

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Ooh great. Can you just do one prompt, or are you allowed to do all three?

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

You are allowed to do as many as you wish. :)

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
Commended by EndMaster on 2/26/2017 8:45:45 PM
“Are we the only ones left?”

Agatha’s head jerked up, shaken from her silent contemplation of the devastation around her. “Oh, Katya...”

She rushed over to hug the younger woman, wrapping her in a discarded cloak to ward off the bitter cold of the mountain air. Kristoff’s cloak, Agatha realized with a pang. The weight of the thick grey wool was familiar under her fingers. She’d knit it for him herself.

Well, Kristoff was gone now. As were the others. She and Katya really were the only ones left. The younger woman’s voice had been tremulous and disbelieving, and Agatha held her tightly now, stroking her blonde braids and forcing herself to murmur soothing words. She reminded herself that Katya was young, still a bit fragile, and that she would have to be strong for the both of them in the days to come.

Broken glass crunched underfoot, and ashes gusted past her ankles. The attackers had arrived so suddenly. Brutal men in mismatched armor. Their weapons were crude, but there had been so /many/.

Kristoff and the men of the family had sent the two women to hide in the caves as they rallied to defend their home. Bodies of their fallen attackers were nowhere to be seen, but perhaps some had been carried out. Splashes of scarlet on the flagstones showed at least that they had not escaped unscathed. The sight of the blood set Agatha’s heart to racing, and she quickly looked away.

But they would have to find food soon. And shelter. So she had to focus. Even sections of the roof had been pried away or smashed in by those savages. It would do no good to stay here.

This old lodge, half hidden in the mountains, had never been a luxurious or even very comfortable place to live. But they’d had no family, no friends in this country. They didn’t know the customs. With few other options, the five of them had settled in this isolated location, keeping to themselves, hoping to wait out the troubles in the old country. Despite everything, they’d made a home of this place. And now it was all destroyed.

“Come Katya. We can’t stay here.”

Katya sniffled and wiped her eyes. “But where will we go?”

“The valley. We have no choice,” Agatha said. Then, feeling the younger woman stiffen in her arms, added hastily, “I know that’s where...where they came from. But others live down there too. We’ll find a farmhouse with some honest, simple folk. Somewhere out of the way, where we can recover a few days and be safe.”

The stars twinkled down upon them, bright and indifferent, as they made their painstaking way through the snow. The moon floated gracefully across the sky.

Hours passed. It was nearly morning, and Agatha rubbed at stiff and half frozen fingers, knowing they couldn’t keep going like this. They’d have to find shelter.

Then, she saw it. A ruddy glow in the distance, half hidden among the trees.

“Katya, this way!” Agatha grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

The light resolved itself into the warm and welcoming glow of firelight against a cabin window. Breathlessly, she rapped on the door. “Is anyone home? Please, my sister and I need help. We’ve been attacked!”

There was a light clatter from inside, then after a long pause, footsteps. The door swung open to reveal the somewhat suspicious expression of a red-faced, broad-shouldered peasant woman. “What’s this now? What’s going on here?”

Agatha knew the two of them huddled together looked a pitiful pair, and she saw the woman’s face gradually soften as she explained their plight. “Please madam, may we come in? If only to warm ourselves and be on our way. We’ve been walking all night.”

The woman stepped back and held the door open. Agatha waited, holding her breath. “A’right,” the lady of the house said, “Guess you girls better come on in. But my lands you gave me a fright, I’ve heard all sorts of tales of what comes out of the mountains at night...”

She chattered away as she turned to tend to gather up an armload of firewood, and Agatha caught Katya’s gaze and made a silent gesture, remaining where she was to gently push the door shut while the younger woman moved on light feet toward the fireplace. “Let me help with that,” she offered, reaching out to take a length of the heavy wood, then swinging it against the side of the peasant woman’s head in one easy motion. There was a cracking sound, and the body crumpled to the floor.

Katya in her youthful eagerness had already hauled the body halfway up again and bared the throat in preparation to feed, but Agatha gestured for her to halt. “There will be others. Let’s find them before they wake. “

A quick search revealed a snoring middle-aged man, and a toddler in a cradle, both silenced with speedy efficiency. The final room revealed a young, fair-complexioned man, fast asleep in bed. Katya moved to break his neck, but Agatha again held up a hand to stop her. “Wait. Not this one.”


Agatha had already snatched up a skein of yarn from the main room. “Hold him,” was all she said, then began rapidly binding his arms and legs. The youth awoke halfway through and began to struggle and shout, but of course the two women were stronger, and there was no one left to hear.

She bent to brush a stray golden curl from his forehead, breathing in his scent. “Shhh. There’s no sense in fighting. You will be my new Kristoff.”

Understanding now, Katya smiled at the both of them from where she stood in the doorway, no longer bothering to hide her fangs.

“You see, my love? It’s all going to be all right. Soon we’re going to have a family again.”

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
edit lock

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Wow. *wow* 0-0

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Sorry everyone, I won't be able to enter again this week ;-;

I've been insanely busy, and it's hard to write when you have so much stuff to do.

Sorry :(

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
Commended by JJJ-thebanisher on 2/27/2017 11:17:35 PM


He hoods his dark eyes with his grimy hands, squinting into the shadows. The others aren't here. His shoes, barely held together at the seams, squish on something unpleasant, but he doesn't look down. He and his gang haven't seen the girl since the news from the castle.

As he pads into the alley, the memories come rushing back, much like how the toxic rainwater floods the rickety pipes and splashes into puddles of liquid waste when it pours like this.

She had golden hair that gleamed even in the darkness of the city and clear, honest eyes. She wore the most dazzling of smiles. When she was cleaned, she had been a beacon. A beacon of hope for them. A beacon of hope for everyone. She said her name was Ya Dia.

He hopes she is alright. The wind sends another wave of polluted water into the alleyway, and he runs further back into the shadows to where his gang had set up base, which is well-kept and clean as they could keep it. Dia left a package here. She said she would retrieve it when… when she comes back.

He looks down at himself. His nasty clothes, dirtied shoes, his hands—layered in sweat and dirt. They curl into fists. How many times has he dreamt of something better? A world better than it is now? Dia is risking her life for people she doesn’t know. For a kinder place to live. For the children who lose their families in endless wars. For families torn apart by famine and executions. And he… he’s done nothing for anyone except for himself. Even in his gang, it’s finders-keepers.

But what can he do? He looks at the package, wrapped in soft, brown paper. The only promise he will keep. The only promise he could keep.

He shivers as another gust blasts in. Rubbing his hands together, he walks back toward the entrance. On the wall, the gang had set up a tin to filter and collect water. He rubs down as best he could with the cold water.

The winter storms are the worst.

He returns to the base, which consists of several strategically-placed metal frames and tarps and ducks into the large tent - and stays ducking as he steps around lumps of fabric called blankets and into the corner where they keep the package. He sighs at the sight of the little thing, limp and dejected. The package must have been through a lot. When had it been wrapped?


He starts at the sound and whips his head around to meet clear-sky eyes. "Dia."

The woman is sitting on blanket, grinning at him with that innocent smile... but something in the lines of her face and eyes tells him that something is very, very wrong.

"Is everything okay?" Juo asks her, worry evident in his tone. He doesn't move from his spot.

The smile fades. "I can't hide it, can I?" Her eyes shift from him to something next to her foot - the ground.


Not lifting her eyes, she replies with an aching voice, "I lost my brother in there."

"I-I'm so sorry," is his only response he could give.

"Your brother died too, didn't he?" she asks, fixing those eyes on him.

Juo nods. "When I was nine - I guess we're alike in that way."

"We're alike in so many ways, Juo." It's the way she said it that made him start.

"What do you mean?"

She points at the box beside him. "Open it."

Juo lifts an eyebrow. "I thought you said that it was for your partner in crime."

"Just open it," she breathes.

He quickly snatches up the package before Dia pounces on him and tears open the paper. Beneath the paper is a beaten box, and he lifts the lid.

After a few moments of staring, he looks up. "What is this?" Juo takes out the ring, eyes widening at the finely crafted gold. He could buy himself a life with this.

"It's the Jien signet ring," she replies. "You're a Jien."

Juo blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"You are the head of the Jien family and part of an ancient bloodline." Dia had the audacity to smile.

He blinks again before returning his gaze onto the ring. Serpents. Three serpents are on the ring, the oceanic background engraved. "You're joking."

"I confirmed it in the castle." Dia prods the filthy blanket.

"Aren't they banished? Exiled?" This is not good. This is very, very bad. If he is a Jien... He remembers his brother's last words.

"Trust the golden lady."

How he had known she would come to try and save them was beyond him.

"Yes." Her answer is firm. And it scares him. "Do you know what this means?"

Don't say it. Don't say it. No. This can't...

"You'll be hunted for the rest of your life until we can overthrow them."

When Juo's eyes lock with hers again, nothing innocent remained there.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Edit Lock. Sorry about this rather lame/boring thing. I'm cringing through a reread of it. And I think I turned the side character into a main one. xD

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
I couldn't post earlier since I didn't want to edit lock you, but those first few paragraphs you put up did a really nice job of creating atmosphere and setting up the mystery of the package, even before you got around to the rest of it.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

This commendation is a representation of how much good work you churn out consistently. In general, I think you could improve on sentence flow, but you write consistently decently and at a high volume. If you decide to rewrite and polish a bit more, I could see you starting to earn consistently frequent commendations. Good work.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
Commended by JJJ-thebanisher on 2/27/2017 11:19:29 PM

Our laughter echoed throughout the snowy glen, the carelessness of a child's whisper bubbling through the shroud of silence that surrounded the woods. The boys and I, we danced around the snow dunes, scantily clad in simple nightwear, innocent creations of majestic castles and snow angels dotting the hillside.

It must have been freezing at that time of the night, but I do not remember feeling it, only the warmth of my flushed cheeks as the adults scolded us afterwards.

And then I had abruptly collapsed, my body succumbed to the hypothermia that I had been oblivious to in my reckless excitement. My recovery from the prolonged frostbite and influenza that followed was a long and arduous process, but the memories of that blissfully carefree night of my childhood were ones that I would never forget.


We stepped out from the woods together, she and I, and gazed upon the hillside beneath. I was garbed in a simple cotton shirt, my jacket draped across her back like a shawl.

'Aren't you cold?' she turned to face me, teeth chattering ever so slightly.

'No,' I answered truthfully, bringing my head down for a light. Stiff fingers caught on the hard grooves of the flint, the unlit zippo flipping to the frosty ground with a clumsy thud.

'Oh,' I narrowed my eyebrows. 'I guess I am.'

'You're going to get frostbite,' she frowned, bending down to reach for my lighter. 'Here, let me.'

I grinned sheepishly.


'Aren't you cold?' I asked as we stepped out of the caravan and into the snow. I had neglected to bring jackets, and the sky was rapidly transitioning from a fading crimson.

'No,' he responded sincerely, bright green orbs turning up to meet mine.

I smiled at him knowingly. He laughed in hysterical shrieks as I sprinted up familiar slopes of ice and snow, grasping onto my shoulders for dear life. At last we rested on the ground next to each other amongst a crowd of snow angels, our bodies numb and exhausted.

You're going to get frostbite.

'Are we the only ones here?' he turned to me, a toothy grin plastered onto warmly flushed cheeks.

'Yes,' I replied, returning the goofy grin. 'Welcome to my secret kingdom.'

I faced the darkening sky and closed my eyes, inhaling deeply.

'But I guess it's yours now.'

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago


The overall theme is a bit ambiguous, so make of it what you will. Otherwise, true story :)

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

I like the style of this piece, very sturdy and especially vague and spooky at the end.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Prompt 1 incoming with a dash of prompt 3...

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

Slime and Goblin

"Man, this really sucks," Ut kicks the corpse of his freshly slain ally. He's seen many of his comrades go down in battle, and understands that most adventurers don't bat an eye at the life of a goblin. His toothy mouth pull his grey lips into a thin line.

"You're telling me," Lorp gurgles as she begins to dissolve a downed goblin's hand in her gelatinous green body. She knows that Ut won't and can't stop her from taking advantage of the feast that lay before her.

The twenty-by-twenty foot room reeks of goblin blood, a scent the two are accustomed to. The unadorned stone walls and wooden door soak in the stench. Ut begins to search the bodies of his fallen brethren, taking this opportunity to snatch the two-handed sword his squadron commander once held. The sword now lay on the floor among the bodies. "Commander Geevin was a real hero," Ut fixes his stance as he grips the massive sword, "Too bad he died and left all his loot to us." Ut stands over the corpse of his commander. It's a wonder how he always ends surviving these sorts of things somehow. He gazes into Geevin's shining breastplate and pauldrons, in turn looking back at himself. A dark grey figure with large ears and nose leer back at him in tattered rags, iron boots, and a torn red cape.

Lorp knows Ut is being sarcastic, and laughs. "Yep. His men aren't particularly tasty, either." Lorp adds the flesh of the deceased goblin to her own jiggling and slimy body mass. Lorp is only a handful of centimeters larger than Ut, both in height and width. However, neither of them have ever bothered to measure themselves.

"You shouldn't eat too much," Ut warns her. "A slime like you would grow too big and attract too much attention." He swings his newly acquired great-sword in the open space in front of him.

"Maybe I want more people to look at my body..." She trails off, wiggling her formless translucent green self while inching towards Ut. 

Ut snaps his gloved fingers, "Stop screwing around. We got what we came for: A big sword, and a snack."

"You're no fun." Lorp bubbles, finishing her digestion of the fallen goblin's entire right arm. Ut glares at her while he motions for the door. "Fine, lets go."

The two make their way down the dusty corridor of the castle. They both know that a raid had taken place in the small castle by a group of goblins in search of hidden treasure. "Poor Geevin, only after a dishonest coin. Now those adventurers have all the valuable loot." Lorp pops as the two move along.

"He didn't really care about the lives of his men, and to be honest I'm glad he's dead. I should have taken a leak on his face." Ut grips his sword, giving an impressive image. You don't often see goblins wielding blades almost as large as they are.

"We could go back if you want." 

"Naw, that would be a waste of good urine and time."

Lorp curses internally. 

The voices of about nine males travel from a room to the right. Seven humans, one dwarf and an elf. "Hold up." Ut whispers to Lorp, holding his hand outstretched to his side. "How are we going to do this?" He mumbles to himself while squinting his eyes.

"I could go back and eat those goblins to gain some more mass, slide under the the door as a thin film, then reform at maximum size."

Ut turns to his slime companion. "You're a bit smarter than you let on." He rubs his chin for a moment. "Inspect the room, then we go with your plan."

Lorp raises a slimy appendage, "Yes Commander!" She salutes jokingly before sticking the same appendage under the door. Lorp's oozing arm snakes around the room unnoticed. By her natural slime perception she sees that the adventurers are gazing at a portrait of a gorgeous war-maiden.

"Glory to Pelor, what a beauty!"

"Finer than the crafts of the cavernous mountains!"



"A bounty worth stealing!"


"I'd be blessed to have such a woman!"

"Grander than the most lustrous jewels!"


Lorp retracts her arm, "Yeah, I'm going to eat them all." She slithers off to the previous room, leaving Ut alone.

Ut leans against the corridor wall, looking down at his boots. Much to his fear the wooden door of the room currently occupied by the adventurers creaks open.

Two men in armor emerge, one a head taller and with cloth covering his suit, while other is shorter. A dwarf and two clerics in chainmail come out second, then two thieves, a spellcaster, and a young-looking elf in plate armor.

"Oh boy." Ut grips his massive blade and bolts down the hallway.

"After him!" The robed and armored fighter shouts, leading the charge. Ut scurries across the rugged stone floor, screaming in his goblin language.

"Lorp, I could really use your help!" Ut strides down towards the room she would be in. With a splintering blow, the door is busted off of it's hinges and swallowed up by Lorp. 

"I'm so fat now!" Lorp giggles and heaves her massive slime body at the adventurers, taking hold of the two fighters. The spellcaster quickly lights a torch, and chucks a flask of oil against the wall, breaking it and splashing it's contents onto Lorp. One of the paladins tosses the torch onto Lorp, alighting the oil.

Lorp's gooey flesh sizzles, but she fights through the horrendous pain, eating through the armor of the fighters.

The two thieves shoot arrows into the massive slime with no avail. Lorp regains a bit of her lost body mass, much to her satisfaction. Ut slides past Lorp carefully, and swings his sword with fury at the two fighters. Too busy with the slime, they fail to defend themselves and become engulfed by Lorp.

If Lorp could smile, she would. "Tasty," She wiggles in delight. The remaining party of adventurers cower and retreat in fear, not wanting to become a slime's next meal. Lorp begins to slither after them before Ut's blade blocks her path.

"Let them go."


"We won. Let the message spread that this castle is guarded by a giant slime and a goblin."

"That's pretty lame; just lemme go eat them."

"Well, they lost their two main fighters. Now their party is unbalanced and their doomed either way. Also, I don't really feel like fighting anymore today. I could have died if it wasn't for you."

Lorp jiggles with contentment. "What now?"

"I guess we'll see if they come back tommorrow." Ut shrugs, and sits down against the wall while Lorp settles next to him.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Edit Lock. :3

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago
Good job on making Lorp fucking gross.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago

Hey, green slimes- no, all slimes are gross.

Writing Prompts Week #8

6 years ago


As the winner, please PM me your plot idea/picture/quote :)