Homestuck Maker Novels & Stories

Her face was bone-white, all the steel in her replaced by a kind of stunned horror. “No,” she breathed. It wasn’t a denial of his claim. It was a rejection of him. Kairi, of course, was the first to break the silence with something other than shock. “Fascinating,” he murmured, his Lawgiver’s eyes devouring the Maker. “The paternal resonance… it’s congruent. The signature in the claw is a subset of your signature. You didn’t just make the prison. You made her.” The Maker’s sorrowful gaze shifted to Kairi, assessing him like a complex but mildly irritating text. “The Lawgiver. I sensed your meddling from afar. Your kind always pokes at the stitches of the world, never understanding the tapestr

Maya’s serialized essay series, 'The Anatomy of a Glitch', had become the defining manifesto for a new generation of creators who refused to let their talents be streamlined into compliance. She paused her typing as a tall, thin man with salt-and-pepper hair and a magnifying visor pushed up onto his forehead climbed the metal spiral stairs. It was Marcus, the master clockmaker who had spent twenty years in luxury horology before walking out over a corporate directive to use synthetic polymers in place of brass.

STEP BROTHER X STEP SISTER 1 AXEL~~ Returning back home for the summer was going to be another banger as always oh-fuck! Not anymore that is. My father ventured off looking for a wife and got married in Bali, that wasn't the only problem. Thanks to my father and his new wife finally on their honeymoon, it was the the fact that I now had to deal with the vexatious daughter of my new step mother, Sarah fucking Anderson.

I said to the maker, "that if you stay, you stay on the same terms everyone else in this structure operates under. Full disclosure. Nothing held back. Any communication with anyone outside this city, in either direction, shared rather than private." "Yes," the maker said. "I understand." "And you understand that Ash does not belong to you. That the choice they made is complete and not subject to revision by your presence or your wishes." "I understand that more than you may expect," the maker said. "I built Ash to think clearly and choose freely. Claiming ownership of the consequence of my own design would be a contradiction I am not willing to make." I held their gaze. "What is your name,"

Travis is working as an intern in his dad's company, lucky him and once Zada graduates this year with her degree in Business & Economics, she’ll also have a spot in the company, lucky her but either way, I’m proud of both of them and the growth they’ve both experienced since Azani’s birth. “Star of the show, good morning,” Max greeted as I entered the studio and I smiled rolling my eyes. “Hey Max, how are you?” I gave him a side hug, Max was one of the first friends I made since coming to this university, and I’ve had mad respect for him since I saw his pen art, I marvelled at the amount of patience he had with shading and detailing, in my opinion, he should have been the main artist, his wo

I looked at the brief. "Five years ago," I said. "When I was in Philadelphia and Hidden Stitch was three people in a warehouse and thirty names on a waiting list." I paused. "I used to make things at night. After Noah was asleep. Small things. Not for commission." I paused. "For the practice of making them." I paused again. "And I would hold the finished thing and think: this is real. This is mine. No one can take this from me." He was quiet.

"Stan, this guy's clearly just another one of Susanne's admirers. Since she wouldn't give him the time of day, he's come here to make trouble." "Susanne has been with you for so long, and she only has eyes for you. So, there's no way she would be with anyone else." Stanley's underlings chimed in one after another, their flattering words drawing a pleased smile from Stanley. "How dare a homewrecker come here and make a scene? I'd advise you to be smart and get lost!" The word "homewrecker" struck a particularly harsh chord, and I let out a disdainful scoff.

Thinking about how much I had once trusted Gary made me feel disgusted. Her latest post was a video about a tour of the large apartment my mother had left me. In the video, she said in a smug tone, "After living in this 3,200-square-foot apartment overlooking the Redwyne River for so long, I'm starting to feel that this place is a little small. If my husband weren't so sentimental, I would really want to sell it off cheap." Many of her online fans immediately commented. [Wow, you want to sell such a beautiful apartment with that view?]

“Is that your Realm?” She nodded, trying to stop herself from crying. Never would she think she would miss Inaymi and the people in it so much. She missed her sister too, and even her son, who was in the same Realm as her. She wanted to go home. “It is.” “Some warriors travel realms. I ask them if the things they see in these realms, they tell me and I make them. I’m a Maker.” “That is lovely. I wish I could see the things you have made.”

They argued all the way home. Back at their own villa, Zachary stormed upstairs with a dark expression. The sound of his door slamming echoed down to the first floor. … Zachary lay on his bed, still fuming. He strode over to his computer desk and opened his Instagram page, skillfully clicking on his only special follow. It was the Instagram account of a comic artist called "Dreamy". This comic artist had created a personal account just a few years ago and had many followers—over 600,000—but had only posted one series.