Steampunk Novels & Stories

How I could’ve missed all those people in one small boat no amount of logic could ever explain. The discovery races through my brain: there’s another entity present in the scene. Not sure if the surge of adrenalin in my veins is giving me hallucinations but I see four metallic objects superimposed on the figure’s face – like two pairs of goggles worn simultaneously, suggesting an insectile mask. I picture a long-haired, willowy AI-generated steampunk nymph, half her face swallowed by two pairs of eyes that warp her softness into something harsh and unsettling. I’m all out of time to indulge the fantasy.

But relaxation wasn't what I had in mind. I stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, running my fingers along the spines of the books until I found what I was looking for. The worn leather-bound volume felt heavy in my hands as I carried it over to the coffee table and opened it to the marked page. The intricate illustrations of whips, chains, and other BDSM paraphernalia made my pulse quicken with anticipation.

As I approached the entrance, I could hear the birds chirping and the laugh of people nearby, conversations that mixed in with the noise. My eyes adjusted at the brightness after squinting, slowly opening my eyes – I could smell the fresh air in my nose, the cool air that hit my skin right when I stepped out of the tent. I could see the Mavi’s casting their element of water to a dummy, slashing through it, some were filling a bucket through a well, waving their hand up in motion and water sloshing in the bucket, some others were having fun splashing each other with their powers. Tents of tents lined up, a few stalls stood in a few corners, trading clothes for weapons and buying food for a p

Goodrich and General Motors and Firestone, plus hundreds more, including states and territories of the US of A and the host of sixty-three invited nations. The promise of a brighter future to a Depression-weary society hungering for technological marvels was nearly irresistible. With her love of modern machinery and work-saving gadgets that simplified her life, even Evelyn had been taken in and now felt jaded by it. Like the Fair’s souvenir map booklet was intended to be discarded, even shamefully lavish with its high-quality paper pages printed in brightly saturated colorful candy-coated bites, this shining city promoting utopian equality had been built with labor strife, a place for ‘the p

And the world’s most dangerous predators had been waiting in the dark for the lights to come on. A low-frequency hum began to vibrate through the glass floor. It wasn't the rhythmic thrum of a heart; it was the mechanical, soul-less grind of heavy industry. From the thick fog of the northern coastline, the silhouettes appeared. They weren't ships of wood and sail. They were iron-clad leviathans, obsidian beasts of steel and steam that belched thick, oily smoke into the pristine morning air. The smoke didn't rise; it crawled across the ice, staining the snow like a spreading infection.

He smelled like sweat, leather, and something like sin. When we finally came to a complete stop and I got off the motorcycle, I took off my helmet and looked around. I realized I was at Marion’s on the River, a pretty posh brunch spot in the city. I looked down at my jeans and boots, unsure if I was dressed for caviar and champagne brunches. As if he could read my mind, Kai took the helmet from me, fixing a flyaway strand of hair that was in my face. He trailed his finger along my temple. “You’re fine.”

Before Ever is a red and white candy stick like vibrator. Something she has been using since the day she met professor kade for the first time. A vibrator she was planning to go home to. Something she was going to go fuck herself with. “How?” She asked while looking at the dark faced professor.

The "War of the Realms" was a sensory apocalypse. As the genre-portals opened, the "Unmapped" North was flooded by the "Biological Trash" of a hundred dead universes. A legion of steampunk automatons from Sector 7 crashed into the "Genesis Legion" warriors. A swarm of eldritch horrors from Sector 2 began to "Eat" the violet lilies, turning the courtyard into a landscape of grey, writhing tentacles. The air was a chaotic mess of scents—ozone, steam, rotting flesh, and the overwhelming, synthetic smell of "Narrative Desperation."

The Ferryman’s Audit The crossing at Ste. Genevieve was a "Broken Asset" sanctuary. A group of "Liquidated" rivermen had salvaged a massive steel barge, powering it with a "Recycled" steam engine that burned dried driftwood and "Chronicle" plastic. There was no "Neural-Link" required for passage; the only "Index" that mattered was the weight of your trade.

I doubted therenwss anyone who wanted to hear what she was speaking about, because as far as we were both concerned, they weren't interested. "Shut up." I told her. This would have been the best time to walk away, but fuck if I knew where I was going. Both the males and females were dressed in steampunk pantaloons, the males wearing the kind of shirt that Marcus occasionally wore while the females wore all types of tops, majority had their breasts exposed, the males stealing glances every so often.