#wip tag game?

[supernova3space]

@johaerys-writes I saw the WIP tag game thing

So

(Kinda doing this cause I've never done this before and it seems so exciting also if I don't do this now I'll obsess and stew myself over how I missed the opportunity for the rest of the week but I'll probably regret this anyway what am I talking so here we go)

So, here's what I've been working. Idk whether I'll ever finish it this year (or the next) so here goes.

They're kids here. And Pat is an adorable cowherd. Achilles is not what you think he is. Took inspiration from mythology and folklore.

“Gori! Gori!” Patroclus called out, “Come here!”

Their two cows, Bossy and Chandu were standing placidly, their jaws mechanically chewing and chewing.

“Bossy, stay here. Chandu, watch her.” He instructed them.

Bossy, defiant as always, gave him a lazy look and ambled away from him.

“For heaven's sake,” He dragged her heavily by her rope and tied her to a tree. “Try wandering now.” he said triumphant.

If cows could glare, Bossy was shooting daggers at him with her eyes. Chandu would keep guard. It was fine,

He ran away from them, his eyes seeking Gori’s white coat. How hard could it be?

“Gori!” He grabbed onto a branch for stability and cupped his palm to his mouth, “Gori!”

A faint tinkling of bells.

Gori!

He ran ahead, his nimble feet used to jumping over the gnarled roots and forest ground.

The fog would settle soon and he had to find her quickly before the sun set over the tops of the trees.

He could hear the tinkling louder, accompanied by the gurgle of the river.

Of course that dumb calf went to the river. She behaved as though she knew the whole hill by heart.

He was closer to the river now.

But the sound was different. It was less of a bell and more of bells.

He sprinted as though a ghost was at his heels.

Angry spirits inhabited the forest. If any of them found Gori, she would be an easy sacrifice for their dark rituals. Angry spirits always had bells.

His head pounded as he thought of poor Gori, trembling as some grotesque, monstrous being, seven feet tall and long, stretched limbs and all bloody pointed teeth with some horrible halitosis cornered his calf. He couldn't imagine it. It was too horrible. Oh, his poor calf.

He had to find her or they were both dead. She, by angry forest spirits. He, because of his father.

Silent. He had to stay silent. Or the spirits will get angry and they will use his bones as drum sticks. Brrr…

Sweat dripped down his back and he nearly stumbled over a fallen branch. His run through the forest seemed to take forever.

He reached the river.

He found Gori.

And something else.

Or rather someone.

The girl looked startled, her back pressed to the surface of a large rock that lay on the river bank. In front of her was Gori, awkwardly trying to make her way towards her.

The girl looked at Patroclus.

No, not girl.

Boy.

Patroclus stood stuck to his spot. The boy stood frozen, staring at him.

Every single part of his body was adorned with ornaments of gold and jewels. Perhaps more luminous than the jewellery, Patroclus felt, was his hair. A thick mane of flaxen hair, strings of pearls like stars, trapped and threaded beautifully in his tresses. A necklace of gold around the column of his throat with an emerald encrusted locket that fell against his chest.

It seemed impossible that such a person could exist, his angelic visage and his wide human emotion, out of this world and yet a part of it.

His bright green eyes never moved from Patroclus.

The boy looked terrified.

He realized how odd he must look, gaping at him while Gori attempted to get closer to the boy, his limbs uselessly hanging, dead weight.

With every step Gori took towards him, the boy shuffled closer to the river but never dared to touch the water. Stuck between bovine hell and river water.

“Gori!” He ran ahead as his mind finally regained his body and caught the calf. “Got you!”

The boy now looked even more frightened, jumping back with Patroclus’ sudden sprint towards him, his breath coming out heavily, golden fingers gripping into the surface of the rock, eyes bright with fear.

Patroclus picked up the calf in his arms with a huff. Still small enough to be carried, she was heavy but he wasn't going to take risks dragging her up the treacherous slope of the hill.

He looked up to apologize to the boy but he had vanished.

Tagging @pijulle @bakerstreetbaggins @cowsonabus and anyone else who'd like to share a WIP!

Gods this is so fun 😊

[fortuneforsaken-if]

What is a King to a God, and what is a God to a non-believer?

DEMO ☥ PINTEREST

This game is geared for mature audiences and as such is strictly 18+.

Ancient shackles bind you to the mortal realm, a soul severed from a home lost to the sands of time. A curse on you, a blessing for those who take command; Who wouldn't like to own a God?

You're the highly revered deity of fortune. Or you were, five thousand and eighty-two years ago. Now you're nothing but a glorified plaything to one of the most powerful families in the world. Every demand you must fulfill, no matter how vile or self-serving. The illusion of choice is all but shattered, there's nothing you can do to change it.

Or is there?

It takes a simple thing for something to shift. A fragment from the past, an ageless, flickering hum of power that unfurls the hands of fate and unearths buried sparks of hope. No one would've thought that an ancient sherd would hold the first hint to your freedom, a warm, familiar sensation of your soul locked in a tomb somewhere where no mortal has stepped in well over five thousand years.

Let's hope the decay doesn't take you before you find your way back home.

☥ FEATURES ☥

Two separate sides to customization; The one mortals perceive, and select parts of your true form. Choose names, appearances, gender, pronouns, sexuality, romantic orientation, and more.

Shape the personality that starts to re-emerge after being dulled for the better part of history. Reconnect with yourself, and get in touch with memories and feelings you lost so long ago.

Experience a character-driven story full of twists and turns that eventually determine how each of the three endings play out.

Romance one (or two) potential love interests from a cast of characters; A shunned archaeologist, a primordial God, the reincarnation of a priestess, or the mysterious man you can't quite place. Or don't, it's up to you.

And last but not least: Don't let the decay reach your heart. Every change of fortune has consequences, and mindfulness is encouraged. This game does have bad endings.

☥ CAST OF CHARACTERS ☥

Zain/Zaina Tharset ∆ M or F, 28

"You're my birthright, and I'd sooner have you dead than let you make a fool out of me."

Z is your charge. Loud, obnoxious, and entitled; They don't care about your feelings or protests. Every desire that leaves them only serves them alone, and it's on brand for most of the charges you've had before. In simple terms, Z is not a good person, and the more time you serve under them, the less you believe they have any redeeming qualities.

Like everyone in the family, Z has warm brown skin with golden undertones, and eyes in light shades of brown. Their hair is naturally curly and shaved on the sides, leaving a strip of hair on the top and back, like a fashionable mohawk. Zaina's hair reaches the middle of her shoulder blades, while Zain's stops at the nape of his neck.

Being bound to them is painful, but you have no choice. Trying to retrieve your soul will be an ordeal, and it might not be worth the agony.

Rami Tharset ∆ M, 28, RO

"Just because the world has forgotten you, forgotten them, doesn't mean I will."

Rami is the twin brother of your current charge. Kind and humble, it's difficult to imagine him a part of the Tharset family on count of how different he is from that pit of vipers. He keeps to himself, usually holed away in a library or study where he digs into the history of, well, you. Or the ancient world you came from. This has caused the rest of the archeological community to shun him, the name of your old empire nothing more than a myth and a glorified fairy tale.

Rami shares his family's warm brown skin tone, and the black curly hair that's usually a messy mop that sits on top of his head, unstyled and naturally chaotic. It reaches just the stop of his ears, and is shaved in the back. Light brown eyes that are quite blurry without his glasses, but the gold-tinted pilot-framed lenses fit him nicely.

He's one of the few friendly faces you face in the Tharset circle, and you curse your misfortune that you couldn't have him as a charge instead.

Maluset ∆ M, N/A, RO

"For all I am, all I have controlled, still I could not keep you safe. Forgive me, old friend."

The God of the Night, and everything that you have left of an age and life long forgotten. While the rest of your pantheon faded one by one, he remained. You've always known Maluset as a calm presence, a steadfast and unperturbed God that never let himself be shaken, by mortals or his siblings.

While Mal prefers manifesting as his animal motif - a jackal made of black marble and eyes like consolidated galaxies - he does have a human form too. If he must appear mortal, his skin takes the color of what the mortals of your time had; bronzed, medium brown with a golden undertone. His hair would be jet black and curly, medium length, and he likes it naturally tousled by the winds. If necessary, he'll let his eyes appear dark brown in color, but he prefers the starlit skies in them instead.

He's been a constant in your life, at least until he disappeared three centuries ago. You know he's still out there since the realm where you take shelter is his, and it hasn't yet disappeared.

Rory Ewing ∆ F, 23, RO

"I can't remember, but your face, it stirs something in my heart. Why? Who was I to you?"

Rory is a new acquaintance to you, but there's something very familiar about her. She might just be a student now, her curiosity bringing her close to you, but you can feel an old connection whenever she's close by. Her voice reminds you of prayers long ago, even if her modern vernacular is closer to 'damn, that shit's the bomb' than hymns sung in your praise. Then again, reincarnation has a way of changing people.

It doesn't, however, change appearances. Back in your day, Rory's vessel was a traveler from the north; Her skin was light beige, rosy in its undertones. Her hair was thick and a subdued red, woven into an intricate braid that hung over her shoulder, reaching her midriff. Her eyes were also uncommon to you; pale green, vibrant but ghostly.

She doesn't remember you, and maybe that's for the best. Her new self is a stark contrast to who she was, and you don't think she'd enjoy the idea of donning priestess garb over the punk-rockish getup she wears now.

Taz Arian ∆ M, 34, RO

"Funny, isn't it? How some people seem familiar, even when they shouldn't be."

Taz is... Someone. He appears out of nowhere to join your journey, his knowledge of old ruins and tombs handy but somewhat worrying when he shouldn't even be able to see you. There's a strange thrum of power coming from him whenever he speaks, and you swear you've met him before, but where? It might be easier to find out if he didn't deflect and flirt his way out of things, but it does help with mortals that can't see you.

His appearance is nothing extraordinary; Dark brown hair that's held up in a bun, and you could assume it reaches his shoulders when loose, the loose curls pulling it a tad shorter. His eyes are light in color, almost golden in the right light, glinting with mischief. His skin is weathered, and golden bronze in color, with an intricate tattoo of an eagle spanning across his chest. He also sports a short beard, which gives him a rogueish look.

There is something about him that tugs at your memories, but you can't catch that thread of remembrance for long enough to recall him. Still, he doesn't seem to mind and resorts to teasing you instead.

[darkfictionjude]

Total wordcount: 630, 489k

Four side quests

Playdate (?)

Find out a secret

Perhaps rekindle an old friendship, a new love (or not)

Break a leg finger

A cozy rainy night at home

T̸̢̹̞̘̩̮̮̫̘̜͕̆̓ͦͮ̈́ͬͣ̾̋ͪ̈́̾̾ͬḩ̸̸̧̢̛̘̰͉̺͓͍̹̩̹̠͍̹͎̼͍̠̪͎͎̋̃̌͊̎ͥͬ̓̾͆̄̚͘͟͝ͅe̦̖̖̙̪͔̥̹ͥ̅̍͆̄̏͟y̟̒́'̷̸̬̹̲̮̦̹̺̟̏̽̉́̎ͨ̄̀ͮ̂̔͒̓͜͝r̸͇͕̫̣͉̟͍ͨ͗e̢̝͗̌̂ ẃ̸͇͍͑ą̷̛̛̣̦̮̂̑ͧ́͆͊͐̓̕͢t̷̶̶̢̨̹͇̝̲̝̼̖̠̣̀͐̑ͧͬ͂̔̓ͦͭ̅͋ͨ̂ͯ̎̆̈̓ͤͨ͂̕̚͟͞͞͞c̶̶̨̥̟͉̱̝ͦ̾̋̉̀͊̏͝ḩ̶̯̲͖̫̝͓͕̰͚̯̜̗͛̅̈́ͬ̿̀̑̈́̑ͨ͊̕͘͢ḯ̵̢̛̠͉͕͚̝̺̫̭̖̜̝̫́ͤͩ̌ͭ͛̈͛ͮ͐ͬͫͣ́ͫͧͬ̑̏̚͘̚͘͘̕͞͠͞ͅṅ͍̞̜̣̩̋ͫ̊̓̒ͅǵ̨̳̜̭͔̤̗̟̦͊ͬ̎͛ͩ͑̑̋͆͘͢͜͞͡ ẏ̶̵̵̧̛̛̬͉̼̮̭͔̳̹̗͍̗͈̪̌̄̔̌͊̿͆̌̃͆̍̓͑͊ͦ̚̕͢͝͞ͅǫ̸̮̬͚̦͔̟̞̗̪̫ͮ̓͂̒̆̊̆̿̆̎ͮu̟͚̦͕͚͂ͥ̿͐̾̅͐͟͠ͅ

Now this time there is a lot of typos because I've been very busy and those will be fixed at a later date but do send me any coding issues :)

P.s. Reblogging helps a lot

Play | Spotify

[ominouspuff]

ooooh can i see something from "the one about gentleness"?

This one is a large/ambitious image, but here is a section. The idea behind it is “gentleness is a choice” — a major hc of mine for Cody in the RepGA fix-it AU, right alongside the “Cody as a military prodigy that could be (and occasionally is) terrifying”.

@lunaemoth @thepatchycat, since you wanted to see this one too (I’ll also address your second choice options, just wanted to include you here as well.)

[monster-match-if]

Welcome to Paradise!

A few decades after the mystical veil between the human and supernatural world was shattered there are still efforts done to fully integrate the two societies. What better way to achieve that than an international & interspecies dating show?!

Ten lucky beings are going to be selected for the first ever edition of Monster Match, and embark on a month-long vacation on a tropical island. Follow your heart or mind when making decisions and win the public’s favour. At the end of the month, the fan favourite couple will win a whopping cash prize of €500,000, to keep or split between them.

Couple up, have fun with the various challenges and most importantly stay alive find love!

And beware of what’s lurking in the shadows!

Genre: Reality TV dating show, monster fu- lovers. Love island the game, but with monsters. Strictly 18+!

WIP - some things may still change on the way.

Play as Male or Female.

Choose to be a Sweetheart, a Charmer or a Flirt.

Have fun or stir up some drama between the other contestants!

Find love or do it all for the money.

Split the prize, or keep it all to yourself… if you win.

Choose between 5 gender selectable ROs and two male partial ROs.

Try to figure out what's happening to the eliminated contestants or ignore the gnawing feeling.

Entirely choice based, the stats are there for flavor text. This is an excuse to write monster, ermm, loving content. The story is rated 18+ and will contain NSFW and maybe some gore along with other dubious things. There will be fade to black options and skippable scenes as well as preference options and some pretty tame and sweet routes, but why are you here if monsters are not your thing? Read at your own discretion!

Morgan → Vampire🦇 - M/F - 6’  Tall and pale, with dark hair and crimson eyes, and an infuriating naturally gorgeous body. Always has the hair styled neatly and preferes classy clothes. An incurable flirt. Expect: Blood and biting related activities. Not particularly loyal.

Elindorn / Eli → Deep forest elf 🏹 (basically a drow) - M/F - 5'7 / 6'4  Tall with an athletic swimmer’s body. Dusty lilac skin, long milky white hair and pale silver eyes that seem to look into your soul. Expect: actually… the most well adjusted of the bunch. Elves mate for life.

The bombshell - Blake → Incubus/ Succubus🌶️- obviously M/F - 5’8/ 6’4  Deep brown skin, short curly black hair and vivid blue eyes. Horns and tail in their “true” form. Skimpy clothes to attract potential vict- partners. Expect: open relationship, multiple partners, life… sucking?

Kitai → Kitsune 🦊- M/F - 5'5 / 5'11 (Casa Amor contestant) The shortest of the group, but the most attentive and ready to please. Ivory skin, long jet black hair and yellow eyes.  Expect: probably the sweetest, most wholesome route, tails - nine of them.

Fionnlagh / Fion → Cecaelia 🐙 (yes, tentacles) - M/F - 5'6 / 6'3 (Casa Amor contestant)  Tanned skin, long wavy red hair, and green eyes. Eight crimson tentacles in their “true” form. Expect: foursome options, but otherwise tentacles and fun, dubious consent-ish if you squint.

Partial ROs

Ragnar → Werewolf 🐺 - M - 6’9/ 8' when in werewolf form Only RO available strictly to F MC and only one who will break up with MC if they cheat or don't have the same views. Tall and built like a mountain, with lightly tanned skin, brown hair and beard and kind brown eyes. Covered in tattoos. Expect: *sigh* knotting, breeding, bestialityithink??

Seishish  - Sei  → naga 🐍 (yes 2 🍆) - M - 6'2 / 11' long with tail out  The Host - not being a contestant will limit interactions in the first half of the story, but he is also an endgame RO. Rich olive skin with a golden hue, long wavy platinum blonde hair, hazel snake eyes. Gains a lot of length in trier half-snake form, the tail an iridescent golden colour. Expect: dubious consent-ish if you squint, ovo…ovi… the eggpreg thing.

Other OG contestants

Warlock/human - Gael - M Human - Kat - F Siren - Oralla - F Fairy - Feyre - F (original name, I know) Angel - Arael - F Demon Azrorath - M

Demo coming soon

[kk1smet]

Potter? Potter! Bloody fuc—

WIP Snip!

Tagged by @kamaela and @edieblakewrites who shared scrumptious snips and I ask you to scream at me when you publish them thank you very much. Kamaela, I think it’s only fair to share something in the same line to your wip, no? 😌

Okay I wanted to tag various mutuals this time so I used a random number generator, picked its corresponding alphabet and the first name to appear from that. I'd love to see/read your wips (but no pressure!) @dewitty1 @kyuini @notti-bianche @xanthippe74 @faiell + ofc @soliblomst ♡

[call-of-the-ocean]

Perception (Sight)

[splatloafbud]

THANK YOU SPLATOON 1 FOR CHANGING MY LIFE ❤️

[tyquu]

for the WIP ask game, Untitled 6?

HDJSJDH my shitty ass modern AU 😔 (that’s weeks old at this point please forgive me for how it looks)

I would also rather chew chalk than elaborate fully on what happens in this modern AU, but let’s just say last time I checked up on it it had developed into a hospital drama (??). So there’s also that 😭

[alistarascendance]

❝𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧—𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧?❞

— in which, fabled legend Alistar returns from the Chasm decades after their descent, only to find themself faced with an issue: humanity, in their absence, has created a world of suffering, dilapidated by greed, and Alistar’s presence only continues to fuel their selfishness, as a living legend must kill… or be killed.

Alistar: Ascendance is a cyberpunk, dystopian romance interactive fiction that was originally intended to simply be a story, before its writer (me) decided to be impulsive and turn it into an IF.

DISCLAIMERS

this story will contain depictions of alcohol, smoking, blood, violence, profanity, mild gore, yandere behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive themes, discrimination, self-hatred, mentions of emotional and physical abuse, suicidal thoughts, an oppressive government, fictional languages and religions, real world philosophies/religions including but not limited to: cynicism, nihilism and atheism; a corrupt world, discussion of morals and human conscience, as well as other mature themes. this list will be updated as the story is written.

please keep all of this in mind while reading!

A gender-selectable MC, who you choose the name, personality, sexuality, appearance, and morals of.

A wide variety of choices to choose from that will impact your story, and the need to keep your MC sane (or just go batshit insane. That works, too).

5 male love interests + 1 secret RO, all of whom you can maintain a simply platonic relationship with if you wish, or you can just continue to flirt with them endlessly (+ a FWB relationship for some).

An enriching world and story, set in a cyberpunk dystopia (we know all of you are here for the romance though).

A powerful MC 😔😔

ROs (romance options, also referred to as LIs or love interests).

THE SURFACE DWELLER:

Seven. 21, Chaotic Good. Mechanic.

“The HIVE needs to fall. There are no exceptions—not even for you.”

The first person you meet once you arrive on the Surface, you and Seven have a unique bond. He’s got a reputation in the slums and Neon for being great at parties, but his friendliness can easily be read as something more.

Is it something more? Further observations will have to be made…

THE SURVIVOR

Saturn. 23, Lawful Evil. Bartender.

“Keep your head down, and you’ll survive.”

The quiet bartender has a curious perspective on things. He seems to have no problem with the HIVE members patrolling his bar, even serving them drinks like they’re normal customers, despite their heavy armor and edges that are too sharp to be humane.

He also doesn’t seem to be particularly interested in you in the slightest. Why’s that?

THE DIPLOMAT

“Is it better to live in quiet solitude, your voice stripped and taken—or would you rather have died, knowing your voice was the loudest amongst them all?”

Chain. 23, alignment unclear. Current occupation unknown.

He’s someone to keep an eye out for. While he hasn’t practiced his craft in years, he may still prove to be dangerous. Just as friendly as Seven, but far more difficult to truly befriend.

Obtain new information as soon as possible…

THE PUPPET

Judge me if you must. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m up here, and you’re down there.

Orion. 25, Lawful Neutral. HIVE operative.

The HIVE member patrolling Saturn’s bar. Part of something greater than he is, but he’s a part of it, regardless. Keep him around…

OTHER ENTITIES

Argos: Neutral Good. Age unknown. The deity whose spear you brandished, after his passing. He was a good man, but the fact only makes your sins rest heavier in your heart.

Teacher: True Neutral. Around ~200 years old. The chasm-dwelling shadow who taught you all you know of the Chasm and its residents.

Alistar: alignment unknown. Around ~200 years old. That’s you! You’re Alistar. At least, that’s what the world has been calling you ever since you ended the war and revitalized humanity, so that is what you will be referred to as throughout the entirety of the story. However, if you’d like to change your name (as Alistar is the default) you may!

As I am primarily an author (as in I literally have done nothing else with my life) I am new to coding (I took ONE coding club in fourth grade) and am trying to write out and perfect a chapter before converting it into typical IF form.

Once I manage to get things situated, I’ll started to code. I’m currently almost done writing chapter 4, so I’ll start working on coding once I finish it.

If anyone wants to read the chapters I’ve written until now, just shoot me an ask or message :)) I’d be happy to show you. otherwise, here are the ones I’ve posted so far:

CHAPTERS

CHAPTER ONE: COURTING DEATH CHAPTER TWO: THOSE WHO REMAIN CHAPTER THREE: TARNISHED DREAMS

asked to be tagged for new chapters!

[blood-teeth]

E N T E R T H E L A B Y R I N T H

In the Labyrinth, they talk of gods.

They whisper between their fingers and sweeten their breath with the tales of titans of old who once stood so tall that a single breath would cause earth-tremors, their steps reshaping the ground trod beneath them. Their fingers were the tools that smoothed the mountains into points, shaped and carved the ridges and valleys in between. If you hike far enough, one woman claims, if you travel to a point where the oxygen is thin and your vision blacks, you can make out a partial print against the mountainside. You can run your own fingers along its length and still feel the titan’s warmth as if his palm were pressed right against yours.

The woman says, It is a thing of worship. It is a thing of devotion.

In the Labyrinth, they ask you to make your body anew before the King of the High Hills. They say that you are alive because you must suffer for the life and love of the Lord, that you must open your body and let him lick along your flesh so that he may taste the endlessness of his perpetual reign.

In the Labyrinth, there is no escape from his touch.

“You have a heavy burden upon you,” the headmaster was saying, teeth and eyes all a glitter under the amber cast candles. “I am not unsympathetic to the arduous path ahead of you—but please understand that this suffering must be experienced for the longevity of the king, for the beautiful life ahead of him. Only he is the one who can shed mortality and raise to the gods, because he is the only one strong enough, courageous enough, to count the cost of living forever. You must succeed where others have failed. You, this class, this is our last chance to mend what has been made broken. You must. You must.”

The Mouths of Elysium is a dark-academia fantasy created with Twine where your choices matter to the story. You live inside the Labyrinth, a maze that hates to become known with walls and paths that change every hour. The center of the Labyrinth sits a university that has been there since the beginning of time; its only purpose is to recruit students who can solve the puzzle of life, who can create an elixir that would allow the King of the High Hills to live past the length of forever. Failure means a fate worse than death.

You are one of those students.

Althea Callaghan - You know her in death. She has been the taste of rot against your tongue, the anger and hurt in your palms. You see the nice, beautiful lines of her teeth and become a creature of grief unfolding unto yourself. Debase yourself with the fervent want of her. Bend at your waist and beg for forgiveness.

You hate her. You want to watch her bleed. She feels the exact same about you, but what she doesn't know is that every waking moment of your life is dedicated to her.

The Princess/Prince - The forgotten child of the throne. The 405th child of His glorious reign. Divinity runs through their veins, the heir to so much power, but they will never see themselves rule the unforgiving landscape of the Labyrinth. Their fate is to die and be buried amongst the endless graves of their dead brothers and sisters. They must do this so the King may live forever.

A fully customizable MC including gender, appearance, and sexuality

A landscape of horror. A landscape that hates you and everyone who might try to understand it. Go beyond the walls and be witness to a reality worse than death

Key choices that will influence your game and experience. Will you succeed or fail?

Learn what it means to be forgiven. Learn what it means to suffer. Become devotion. Become loyalty. Make your body anew before the King of the High Hills

DEMO (updated 6/10/24)

[eggcromancer]

Last Line Challenge

Rules:

In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many as you like).

Tagged by @starriegalaxy Thanks jestie!! It's my first time doing a challenge, I'm excited! ✨

Last Line: "It was an accident" <- from the @daycarefriendpickup magma sesh! Sun may or may not have lost control and y/n may or may not be bleeding out as a result (oops...)

Last Art: I've roughly 20+ sketches ongoing and 0 motivation to complete any of them so take all these wips! HYAHHHH!! 💫💥

Agent Dusk from @lavenoon's amazing Accidentally Undercover AU 💕:

Colour studies on Agent Dawn (same AU as Dusk) and the most mentally sound™ Sun:

More scribbles....

And ..... this.... (why did I draw this)

This is an open invite for anyone to do the challenge! (because I'm have crippling social anxiety and I don't want to be imposing ajdhska) If you are looking for a sign to do the challenge, this is it!! Time to get to it!!! 👉👉 (Or don't! I'm not the boss of you!)

[pondanimal]

he's pissed off bc he didn't get the sexy outfit

ty anon ily

[bahbahhh]

Last sentence tag game

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

Thanks for the tags @mistresslrigtar and @dubiiousfood !! Here is what I have, from the next of the depths:

Losing his arm had been a shock, but the loss of his gear was devastating.

Tagging: @flutefemme @leiladebees @louwhose @cooking-with-hailstones @embyrinitalics @ladyhoneydee @hyylia @aurathian + anyone else who wants to play!

[girlsdads]

tagged by @annebd for WIP wednesday friday... instead of a WIP snippet have something that i don't really know what else to do with but i didn't hate so :-)

Max’s phone lights up with Daniel’s name while he’s sitting in hospitality the morning of race day. It’s face-up on the arm of the sofa—Max watches as it catches the eye of Lawson next to him. Possessiveness rises like bile in his throat. He snatches the phone as quickly as he can, cradles it to his chest like that would erase the letters of Daniel’s name from Lawson’s memory.

“Whatever, mate,” Lawson quips, rolling his eyes. Like anyone was talking to him, anyway. Like Max gives a fuck if he’s here or not. Like they’re mates, and he’s not someone Max is contractually obligated to be cordial to.

“Clean up your crumbs, when you are finished,” Max says as he stands, sweeping his gaze pointedly over the spray of chocolate chip muffin debris covering Lawson’s lap and the sofa cushion beside him. He doesn’t wait for Lawson’s response before stalking from the room. He thinks about the stacks of keto-friendly protein bars going stale back in his motorhome and hates Lawson that much more.

Max waits until he’s closed the motorhome door behind him to open Daniel’s text.

It’s stupid, he knows, to want to do this in private. Everyone knows he talks to Daniel still, probably no one would think it strange or pathetic for Max to be texting him now. Daniel had said—Max had known he wouldn’t be here, this weekend, or any weekend. Max understands, in his own way, despite how bereft he always feels, during.

But. It is a race day and Daniel is texting him. Daniel hasn’t texted on a race weekend since, well—since. He had facetimed the day after Brazil, relaxed and happy and congratulating Max from New York. They keep a running conversation during off weeks, Daniel sending picture after picture of himself with arms around his friends, some Max knows, some he doesn’t. Max saves the photos to a hidden folder on his phone, crops them all so it’s only Daniel. Sometimes it leaves him missing an arm, or two, but he can’t stand to see Daniel with all these people who aren’t Max. In turn, Max sends him videos of the cats, memes he hopes will make Daniel laugh, updates on the funny-looking bird that has been building a nest on Max’s balcony.

(That’s my—what’s the little animal friend that witches have—my familiar, Maximus! I sent him to watch over you, obviously. Be nice to him.) That message had gone into the secret folder, too.

Race weekends are radio silence. Max has come to terms with that, knows it isn’t personal, that it’s an open wound Daniel is nursing. So for Daniel to reach out, today of all days, Max can’t help the stab of yearning in his belly. It could be an important day, for Max, maybe Daniel decided—maybe he’s said he’s hopped a plane, he’s driving out from LA, he’ll be here before the chequered flag—

Max couldn’t bear it if anyone else were around, if that’s not what Daniel’s message says. Even alone, he feels like a hermit crab that’s outgrown its shell, hope leaving him soft-bellied and vulnerable.

He swipes open his and Daniel’s message chain.

Daniel’s not coming to Vegas. At least, that’s not what he’s texted.

The text is a picture. Max’s eyes are drawn immediately to Daniel, though he’s only in about one quarter of the frame. If he was trying to take a selfie, he did not do such a good job--it's mostly a shot of the dusty-red ground, Daniel's beautiful face peeking in from the top corner. He’s wearing his dirt biking clothes, sweat darkening the pits of his long sleeves where his arm is lifted to make a thumbs-up. His pinky still doesn't quite fold in next to the rest of his fingers. Max wants to kiss the careful bend of his knuckle.

It's a few long moments before Max even registers what's etched into the earth behind Daniel. It is very obvious, then, why Daniel is sending this now. There in the California dirt, Daniel has used a stick or maybe even one of his long, lovely fingers to write 3 + 1 = 4. A wobbly heart is drawn around the whole thing.

Max is infinitely grateful for the lack of prying eyes as he sinks slowly to the floor. He draws his knees up to his chest and cradles the phone in cupped hands, as if the message will be sucked back into the ether if he grips too tightly. He lightly taps to full-screen the image, zooms in on Daniel's face. The soft, almost awkward smile is the same one Max has only ever seen directed at him. He knows this, because he's spent years cataloguing Daniel's interactions with others, longing and longing. Daniel never makes that face at anyone else.

Max's phone buzzes as another text comes through. Daniel's hands reaching through the wire to squeeze Max's heart until it leaks out between his fingers.

Always cheering for you, Max. Give 'em hell for me.

[kald-dal-art]

Want to practice making comics more, so drawing the bread scene lets see when I manage to finish it