#cyoa fic

[dirigibleplumbing]

my 15x18 choose your own adventure fic is nearly halfway done! I'm hoping to post part 1 sometime in the next week or so. in the meantime, here's the cover! there's even a back cover, too.

[ink-and-dagger]

DRINK WITH ME - The Virgin AU

Part 3:4 - AO3 Link

Read on AO3 first ⇧⇧⇧

Then cast your vote below the cut ⇩⇩⇩

(No peeking!)

(I mean it!!)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3:1 || Part 3:2 || Part 3:3 || DWM Masterlist🥃

Big thank you and sloppy kiss to @juniper-sunny for beta reading <3

What teaching method do you choose?

✵ Demonstration: Touch yourself for him ✵

✵ Instruction: Talk him through it ✵

✵ Interactive: Guide his hand with yours ✵

Voting ended onSep 9, 2024

[couriersiccs]

THE PLAYER'S RESPONSE TO THE ARCHITECT - A Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Black Mirror: Bandersnatch Fic

“I’ve given you the knowledge. I’ve set you free. Do you understand?” (A) SAY SOMETHING ⵄ (B) KISS COLIN

Part 1 is live! If you miss watching Bandersnatch on Netflix, I hope this can fill the void a little bit. Let me know what endings you get! Stay tuned for Part 2!

[meowmeowriley]

Changes: A Poll-Fic

(Cheeky link to ch. 2->) Ch. 2

"Remember, you're not supposed to be here, so don't do anything stupid." Love you too, Price. The Captain had caved. He'd been begging to be part of this mission since they'd gotten the lead.

Soap reached up, rubbing his gloved fingers across the teeth of his mask. The mask he'd stolen from Ghost's room. Gaz had found him clutching it, dried mixture of tears and bile coating his cheeks, and forehead pressed to the porcelain throne. He'd been banned from drinking for the foreseeable future. That was the only stupid thing he'd done. Ghost wore a mask, Ghost only spoke when he had to, Ghost was hard on the rookies, and nobody questioned his mental state. But they did, didn't they? Well Soap didn't. And nobody needed to question Soap, he was fine.

"I wanna be like you when I grow up."

"You wanna be better than me, Johnny."

Well to be better than him, first he had to be more like him. So he'd donned Ghost's mask, to better embody the man's stoicism and presence. Definitely not as a way to hide his chapped cheeks and the bags under his eyes. He'd painted it red, wore a jaw print bandana. Different. Better. Yeah.

Price had finally caved to Soap's insistence he be part of this OP, but issued his warnings. "I know you don't need to be told, but I'm saying it anyway." He'd warned. "They've had him for eight months. Torture changes people, he may not be the same."

Of course he wasn't going to be the fucking same. He didn't need to be the same, he just needed to be alive.

Ghost never really spoke about his past, only left little hints here and there, but Soap wasn't dumb. He'd been through it before. Ghost could handle the torture, and Soap could handle the aftermath.

"I'm fine." He finally answered. "It'll be by the books, Captain." As if anything they did was ever 'by the books.' Price accepted his answer, though he didn't look convinced. It was just the three of them, with Laswell listening in. Gaz was in charge of collecting data on the bio weapon that was rumored to be here, Soap was in charge of the search and rescue mission, and Price was overwatch as the two Sergeants made their way in.

The trio hopped out of the truck, and Price slapped the side, sending it away. Soap and Gaz nodded to one another before splitting up to approach the building from different angles. Price silently made his way to higher ground.

The trek was agonizing, moreso because Soap found himself feeling more impatient than usual. Every time he had to lay low and wait for a patrol to pass he could hear the sand slowly falling, trickling away in the hourglass that was the rest of Ghost's life.

"You sure know how to keep things interesting, Johnny." Ghost had smiled at him, rare that he didn't have his mask, but then again, who other than Soap would challenge the Ghost to strip poker? And who other than Soap would cheat be really really good at strip poker? So good as to force Ghost to choose between his pants and his mask, the last two articles of clothing he had on. Soap himself had only one sock, and his jumper on, choosing to doff his pants so he could keep access to the cards in his sleeves. The  unpleasant cold of the metal chair against his junk was worth it, just to see the surprising decision on Ghost's part to lose the mask and not the underwear.

"Aye, like to shake things up, Sir." He'd said with a wink as he laid yet another winning hand down, only slightly supplemented by his sleeve stash.

He was certainly always one to shake things up. Here he was, itching to shake that damn hourglass up. He'd shake it, flip it upside down, bash it over someone's head and stuff the sand down their fucking throat, if it meant he'd get more time with the enigmatic phantom that had haunted his mind since that shitshow in Mexico.

Price gave the signal, they crawled forward once more.

"This is takin' longer than a constipated snail takin' a shit." He grit out into comms once the coast was clear.

"Soap, while it's nice to hear your voice again, one more quip outta you and I'm pulling you. Watch it." Laswell had gotten the cold shoulder, she'd fed Ghost bad intel. He blamed her, he didn't, couldn't blame her. She was just as worried. Probably.

He just needed to get Ghost back. Repay his debt. Ghost had saved him back then, after all. That's what this was. An eye for an eye, but in a positive way. They were good for eachother. Fixed eachothers problems. Complimented one another, personality wise. That's all.

He crept into the building, silent and unnoticed.

They didn't have much on the layout, just the outer perimeter, so they were going in blind. That didn't bother Soap, he was thriving for the first time in months. He finally had something to do other than run the rookies into the ground.

He dodged patrols, picked off the ones he could get away with had to, using the knife he'd kicked so long ago after Ghost had left it behind.

He found some unlit stairs leading into a basement they hadn't known existed. If I were keeping an incredibly dangerous prisoner, now where would I keep him? Three sets of teeth, plastic, cloth and bone, were bared towards the darkness. He couldn't help it, he felt giddy. He tried to quell his excitement, didn't need to make any mistakes now.

He made his way, thankful for his NVG's as there were no lights, even after descending the stairs. The hallway he entered had doors along one side, nothing much in the rooms, but he cleared each one as he passed. No fuck ups.

Near the end, he found a door with seven locks. Suspicious. Good. Suspicious was good, here. The other doors had been wood, dry rotted and deteriorating, this one was metal.

His eyes itched. He flipped up his NVG's.

Curiously, whenever he blinked, Soap could've sworn he could see symbols on the door, but they'd disappear the longer he looked. He'd blink, a sickening yellow circle with lines and symbols within would appear just as he opened his eyes, but faded so quickly, he couldn't convince himself it had ever even been there. The harder he stared the more the door looked perfectly normal, if you ignored all the locks.

He debated with himself, should he pick the locks and go in? Or should he radio the others and wait for backup since he's seeing shit?

Pick the locks, time is of the essence!

Maybe Price was right to be worried, better call this in and wait for backup...

Voting ended onMay 5, 2024

Many many thanks to @stuffireadandenjoy for brainstorming with me on how to make this poll fic work, and to @resident-idiot-simp for being my beta, as always ❤❤❤

(Cheeky link to Ch. 2->) Ch. 2

[kingxgarm]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

GUESS WHAT FOOLS

The fnaf 3 cyoa fics are IN PROGRESS

I've posted the works for each character, so get hyped and let me know which character you're most excited to play as

[mottinthepot18]

Chapter 11. Jar

[millenniumcomics]

Today I'm not in a good mood, but Atem pecking Seto cheered me up a bit.

Also, let me introduce to you "The Last Duelists"

I'm currently working on a nice project, and Aibou is illustrating. Meanwhile, Yamis and Jonouchis are betaing making their way through 350 mini-chapters of an oldstyle Choose Your Own Adventure fanfiction.

We set the release date for the 30th of September but I really hope we can be faster with both beta-ing, coding, (Because yes, you'll have to make them duel!) translating and illustrating.

For now, I leave a sneak-peak (Is it how it's called?) down here and totally hope to share more as the work is progressing through duels, death illustrations making me cry, banters, and more.

I really hope someone will love playing this as much as we are enjoying creating it, but I'm confident: someone will.

[withacapitalp]

The Backrooms

Read it on ao3 instead!

Okay so I'm going to start this part with a little bit of background! This is going to be a CYOA style fic EVENTUALLY but for now it is a reader driven CYOA. I have the whole thing laid out and over half written and I will be updating every three days until we go through all of the reader choices! You can either vote on ao3 in the comments or on Tumblr at this poll! Now that all of that is taken care of....Welcome to the Backrooms :)

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I’m gonna die. 

I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die-

Holy fuck I’m going to DIE. 

Eddie rounded another corner, tripping over his feet and falling briefly to his hands and knees before scrambling back up as fast as he could, continuing to sprint at a breakneck speed. His lungs screamed in protest, years of smoking finally catching up to him as he literally ran for his life 

What was it that Chrissy had always said?

‘You shouldn’t smoke, Eds. It’ll kill you,’ 

God. Chrissy. 

Where the fuck was Chrissy?! 

The desperate thought was immediately drowned out by the sound of one of the creature’s behind him screeching in rage. 

No, it wasn’t smoking that was about to kill Eddie. It was those…things chasing him. 

He couldn’t worry about Chrissy right now. He had to focus on saving himself. 

Another grim wail, grinding on his ears and dangerously close. Just that disgusting sound was enough to give Eddie another boost of adrenaline, his mouth filling with the taste of iron as he ran. He had no way of knowing how long he had been racing through this hellscape, or how he had ended up here, but Eddie did know one thing. 

He was running out of time. 

The stitch in his side continued to grow, going from a throbbing pain to a white hot poker jabbing itself between his ribs. All those years of skipping gym class and sneering at jocks were mocking him now. 

A jock would probably survive this. 

A wild reckless part of himself wanted to collapse- just give up and let what was going to happen happen, but his base human instinct to survive forced his body forward, turning him blindly into another disgustingly yellow room. 

That was all he had seen since he landed in this godforsaken place. Yellow room, yellow room, yellow hallway, yellow room, and on, and on, and on. 

Maybe he was already dead, and this was what hell really was. There was a small part of his mind that was clinging to some semblance of sanity, and it kept thinking that if he could just get out of this room and through the next, maybe he could lose the monsters that were chasing him. 

But each doorway kept leading to the same yellow rooms. Over, and over, and over, and over.

Eddie risked a look backwards as he rounded yet another corner. He couldn’t see how many of the creatures were chasing him, but it looked like there was even more than before. They were some sort of mutant bats- ginormous disgusting creatures with fangs the size of his hand and glowing red demon eyes crawling on the floor, the walls, even the damn ceiling. 

No. He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t let those things get him. At best, they would tear him to pieces. At worst….

Well Eddie wasn’t really sure what could be worse than that, but he didn’t want to find out. 

He just had to keep running. Eventually he would get somewhere new. Running was all he had to do, and that would be easy. He had spent his entire life running from bullies. These were just slightly more murderous evil monster bullies.

I can do this. It’ll be fine. I can do this. 

Then he tripped and went sprawling to the ground. 

Shit. 

The bats were on him in a second, grotesque slimy tails wrapping around each of his limbs and pulling him spread eagle. The fluorescent lights above him droned a death knoll as one of the bats curled up on his chest, letting out a soft snarl as its entire face opened up into rows and rows of jagged bloody teeth. 

Running wasn’t an option anymore. As far as he could see, Eddie only had two choices left. 

GIVE UP 

SCREAM

Poll