YogWyn Dynasty
The Architect
CALLING OUT INTO THE GREAT EXPNASES OF THE SANCTUM!!
Greetings, friends! My name is YogWyn. I've been crafting stories and building entire planes of existence for about 10 years now (I'm getting old :D).
I've been trying to find a co-writer for quite some time, but recently the thought came to me: "Why not just RP this story instead? Meet some new friends, craft some new bonds, and bring to life a compelling and grandiose story built line by line, plot by plot, with someone just as excited about the next arc as you?"
Well, if that sounds like the ideal scenario for you as well, then perhaps you'd like to give this story a shot.
MY WRITING STYLE (And "requirements" for partner)
I typically write and RP in a high fantasy / grimdark / romance / semi-erotica tone (this is my bread and butter, essentially).
I will usually reply as soon as possible when I am at my PC (which is often, considering I work from home as a writer and artist). I do have a bit of a chaotic sleep schedule, so I may respond at random points of the day or night, but I will always make an effort to communicate if our schedules conflict for a time (US EST).
My response length varies, though not unintentionally—I can match your pace, or I can outpace you if you prefer (please don't take that as gloating!). I am willing to give as much length as my partner finds workable and, most importantly, comfortable.
I do not require a set word count or post length. All I ask is that if you respond sentence by sentence or moment by moment, you make the setting and atmosphere live alongside your responses.
(Example: My breath coming in broken, harsh, raspy quivers "You failed to realize one thing, Yismyr..." The wind came churning behind you, carrying a sickly smell of burning sinew and rotten wax "...I never kindled the flame.")
This ensures our story doesn't read like a simple chat log, but feel free to communicate any hangups you might have with that—I promise I'm a very adaptable writer!
VIOLENCE AIN'T ALWAYS THE ANSWER BUT IS SURE IS
COOL WHEN IT IS!!
I am a proponent of gruesome depictions when they serve the story well. However, I don't enjoy writing or reading gore-filled violence strictly for shock factor. As long as the depicted gore/violence serves as a complement to the overall plot and acts as a valuable literary window into the emotional weight of the scene, I'm fully on board. Outside of that, I prefer to keep the focus on the characters and atmosphere, though that is just personal preference.
SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT AND THEMES
I typically include at least one sex scene in each of my stories, so my work is not intended for all audiences. However, the level of detail in these scenes can vary immensely. I never write sex scenes as mere "fan service," but rather as a meaningful plot point and evolution for the characters involved. I am completely fine with "fade to black" moments in lieu of graphic depictions, so that is by no means a dealbreaker. Personally, I enjoy writing detailed descriptions of lovemaking—not to project my own desires, but as a homage to what feeling loved and desired feels like. To be joined and entangled with another being who makes you whole and complements you perfectly is something beautiful and awe-inspiring (and it can also just happen to be really hot!).
OC vs FAN FICTION
I have completed several personal fan fiction projects that I would be willing to share with a partner so you can get a feel for my style and flavor of crossover integration. I have a niche I usually stick to, but I am open to expanding it:(Overlord—Shalltear Bloodfallen is always depicted and verbally confirmed as an adult in all of my Overlord fanfics; Elden Ring; Game of Thrones; Magic: The Gathering—I usually only use the magic systems and character lore, and when I do use MTG characters, I normally bring them out of their origin plane and into a separate crossover universe).
What will we write about together?
I have an entire Lore Bible built on Google Drive for the world, along with a 9-chapter opening backstory for the primary characters (outside of my partner's OC, unless they would prefer to play one of my established characters).
I have placed a lot of love and care into this story's backbone and foundations. However, in the spirit of connecting with a kindred spirit, I would have no problem starting from scratch and building a world from the ground up if that gets us started. I also want to reiterate that while I have created an integral cast of characters, I have no qualms about reshaping the story into something entirely new if the chemistry is right.
Hey, looks like you made it!
If you feel like I might make an interesting partner, dally no further—shoot me a message! Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this far. Before i go, i wanted to leave you with a small sample of my work and literary style directly from the story I have set up please enjoy!
With love,
– YogWyn
Greetings, friends! My name is YogWyn. I've been crafting stories and building entire planes of existence for about 10 years now (I'm getting old :D).
I've been trying to find a co-writer for quite some time, but recently the thought came to me: "Why not just RP this story instead? Meet some new friends, craft some new bonds, and bring to life a compelling and grandiose story built line by line, plot by plot, with someone just as excited about the next arc as you?"
Well, if that sounds like the ideal scenario for you as well, then perhaps you'd like to give this story a shot.
MY WRITING STYLE (And "requirements" for partner)
I typically write and RP in a high fantasy / grimdark / romance / semi-erotica tone (this is my bread and butter, essentially).
I will usually reply as soon as possible when I am at my PC (which is often, considering I work from home as a writer and artist). I do have a bit of a chaotic sleep schedule, so I may respond at random points of the day or night, but I will always make an effort to communicate if our schedules conflict for a time (US EST).
My response length varies, though not unintentionally—I can match your pace, or I can outpace you if you prefer (please don't take that as gloating!). I am willing to give as much length as my partner finds workable and, most importantly, comfortable.
I do not require a set word count or post length. All I ask is that if you respond sentence by sentence or moment by moment, you make the setting and atmosphere live alongside your responses.
(Example: My breath coming in broken, harsh, raspy quivers "You failed to realize one thing, Yismyr..." The wind came churning behind you, carrying a sickly smell of burning sinew and rotten wax "...I never kindled the flame.")
This ensures our story doesn't read like a simple chat log, but feel free to communicate any hangups you might have with that—I promise I'm a very adaptable writer!
VIOLENCE AIN'T ALWAYS THE ANSWER BUT IS SURE IS
F***'IN
I am a proponent of gruesome depictions when they serve the story well. However, I don't enjoy writing or reading gore-filled violence strictly for shock factor. As long as the depicted gore/violence serves as a complement to the overall plot and acts as a valuable literary window into the emotional weight of the scene, I'm fully on board. Outside of that, I prefer to keep the focus on the characters and atmosphere, though that is just personal preference.
SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT AND THEMES
I typically include at least one sex scene in each of my stories, so my work is not intended for all audiences. However, the level of detail in these scenes can vary immensely. I never write sex scenes as mere "fan service," but rather as a meaningful plot point and evolution for the characters involved. I am completely fine with "fade to black" moments in lieu of graphic depictions, so that is by no means a dealbreaker. Personally, I enjoy writing detailed descriptions of lovemaking—not to project my own desires, but as a homage to what feeling loved and desired feels like. To be joined and entangled with another being who makes you whole and complements you perfectly is something beautiful and awe-inspiring (and it can also just happen to be really hot!).
OC vs FAN FICTION
I have completed several personal fan fiction projects that I would be willing to share with a partner so you can get a feel for my style and flavor of crossover integration. I have a niche I usually stick to, but I am open to expanding it:(Overlord—Shalltear Bloodfallen is always depicted and verbally confirmed as an adult in all of my Overlord fanfics; Elden Ring; Game of Thrones; Magic: The Gathering—I usually only use the magic systems and character lore, and when I do use MTG characters, I normally bring them out of their origin plane and into a separate crossover universe).
What will we write about together?
I have an entire Lore Bible built on Google Drive for the world, along with a 9-chapter opening backstory for the primary characters (outside of my partner's OC, unless they would prefer to play one of my established characters).
I have placed a lot of love and care into this story's backbone and foundations. However, in the spirit of connecting with a kindred spirit, I would have no problem starting from scratch and building a world from the ground up if that gets us started. I also want to reiterate that while I have created an integral cast of characters, I have no qualms about reshaping the story into something entirely new if the chemistry is right.
Hey, looks like you made it!
If you feel like I might make an interesting partner, dally no further—shoot me a message! Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this far. Before i go, i wanted to leave you with a small sample of my work and literary style directly from the story I have set up please enjoy!
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't think.
She could only see.
And what she saw was impossible.
"I—I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice breaking. "Did I—did I hurt you? I didn't mean to—I'm so sorry, I—"
Ari didn't respond. She couldn't.
A sound escaped her lips—a soft, breathless chuckle that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her chest. It grew louder, rising into a full, hysterical laugh that echoed through the chamber like the ringing of a broken bell. Her shoulders shook, and her head tilted back, and she laughed and laughed until the sound died away into a small, broken chuckle that was more sob than mirth.
And then, slowly, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
It was crimson.
Not the pale pink of strained mana, but a deep, vivid red—pure liquid mana mixed with her own blood, trailing down her face like a wound that had opened from the inside.
Solas turned his gaze toward her, his expression calm and knowing.
"Do you still believe him weak, Headmaster?" he asked, his voice low and resonant, carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "Or will you tell yourself your own blood is a parlor trick?"
She took a step forward. Then another. And another.
Until she was standing directly in front of YogWyn, close enough that he could see the faint glow of mana still flickering in her eyes, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her skin.
All the smugness was gone.
All the glee, all the accusations, all the intellectual superiority—stripped away and replaced with something raw and unfiltered.
Admiration.
Awe.
Reverence.
And beneath it all, something hot and dangerous—a desire not for flesh, but for understanding. For proximity to something divine.
Ari reached out with one trembling hand and touched YogWyn's neck.
Her fingers were warm, almost feverish, and they traced a slow, careful line along the edge of his jaw, moving upward toward the mask. Her other hand rose to join the first, and her fingertips brushed against the crystalline surface with a reverence that bordered on worship—as though she were a priestess performing a sacred rite, as though the mask itself were a holy relic that might crumble to dust if handled without care.
And then, with infinite care, she began to lift the mask.
The mask rose—slowly, slowly—revealing the sharp line of YogWyn's jaw, the curve of his lips, the faint flush of his cheeks. Higher still, until his nose was visible, and then the bridge between his eyes, and finally—
Ari's breath caught.
YogWyn's face was beautiful.
Not in the way of soft, delicate features or sculpted perfection, but in the way of something raw and unguarded—something that had never been meant to be hidden. His skin was pale, almost luminous in the dim light, and his eyes—those impossible gold-and-amethyst eyes—burned with a light that seemed to come from somewhere beyond the mortal world.
But it wasn't his beauty that made Ari's heart stop.
It was the weight of him.
The sheer, undeniable presence that radiated from every line of his face, every flicker of his gaze. It was the feeling of standing before something vast and incomprehensible, something that should not exist and yet did—something that defied every law of magic and nature and reality itself.
Ari's lips parted, and she whispered a single word—soft, breathless, and filled with a reverence that bordered on prayer.
"Holy."
She couldn't think.
She could only see.
And what she saw was impossible.
"I—I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice breaking. "Did I—did I hurt you? I didn't mean to—I'm so sorry, I—"
Ari didn't respond. She couldn't.
A sound escaped her lips—a soft, breathless chuckle that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her chest. It grew louder, rising into a full, hysterical laugh that echoed through the chamber like the ringing of a broken bell. Her shoulders shook, and her head tilted back, and she laughed and laughed until the sound died away into a small, broken chuckle that was more sob than mirth.
And then, slowly, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
It was crimson.
Not the pale pink of strained mana, but a deep, vivid red—pure liquid mana mixed with her own blood, trailing down her face like a wound that had opened from the inside.
Solas turned his gaze toward her, his expression calm and knowing.
"Do you still believe him weak, Headmaster?" he asked, his voice low and resonant, carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "Or will you tell yourself your own blood is a parlor trick?"
She took a step forward. Then another. And another.
Until she was standing directly in front of YogWyn, close enough that he could see the faint glow of mana still flickering in her eyes, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her skin.
All the smugness was gone.
All the glee, all the accusations, all the intellectual superiority—stripped away and replaced with something raw and unfiltered.
Admiration.
Awe.
Reverence.
And beneath it all, something hot and dangerous—a desire not for flesh, but for understanding. For proximity to something divine.
Ari reached out with one trembling hand and touched YogWyn's neck.
Her fingers were warm, almost feverish, and they traced a slow, careful line along the edge of his jaw, moving upward toward the mask. Her other hand rose to join the first, and her fingertips brushed against the crystalline surface with a reverence that bordered on worship—as though she were a priestess performing a sacred rite, as though the mask itself were a holy relic that might crumble to dust if handled without care.
And then, with infinite care, she began to lift the mask.
The mask rose—slowly, slowly—revealing the sharp line of YogWyn's jaw, the curve of his lips, the faint flush of his cheeks. Higher still, until his nose was visible, and then the bridge between his eyes, and finally—
Ari's breath caught.
YogWyn's face was beautiful.
Not in the way of soft, delicate features or sculpted perfection, but in the way of something raw and unguarded—something that had never been meant to be hidden. His skin was pale, almost luminous in the dim light, and his eyes—those impossible gold-and-amethyst eyes—burned with a light that seemed to come from somewhere beyond the mortal world.
But it wasn't his beauty that made Ari's heart stop.
It was the weight of him.
The sheer, undeniable presence that radiated from every line of his face, every flicker of his gaze. It was the feeling of standing before something vast and incomprehensible, something that should not exist and yet did—something that defied every law of magic and nature and reality itself.
Ari's lips parted, and she whispered a single word—soft, breathless, and filled with a reverence that bordered on prayer.
"Holy."
With love,
– YogWyn