#tales from the void (2024)

[gebo4482]

Tales From the Void | Official Trailer

Star: Mpho Koaho / Beatrice Schneider / Molly Lewis

[melancholy-of-nadia]

the a(myg)dala (explicit) | myg

title: the a(myg)dala (explicit) pairing: mafia leader/detective! agust d x right handman! f. reader ; gang leader! yoongi x right handman! f. reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , thriller , smut ; haegeum au , my agustdverse summary: You wake up in a lavish bedroom with no recollection of memories of who you are. The only person who holds the key to this mystery is the owner of the house, Agust D, a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective. He claims you’re his right hand (wo)man and that he needs to protect you from someone who’s after you, as well as a treasure he’s searching for. With danger lurking and your memories a blank slate, can you trust Agust D to uncover the truth, or is there more to his story than meets the eye? note: i have been planning this in my head (like the delusional girly i am) since daechwita came out in 2020, but it wasn't until 2023 with the haegeum mv that it truly solidified me wanting to put together my thoughts to create this. i started out with Distraction and Infatuation as test one shots to gauge at the interest, and now it has lead me to create the first actual chapter of this series. this series is dedicated to my bestie the biggest yoongi smut luvr i know @daegudrama and to my favorite yoongi fic writers @jcoles and @theharrowing. also this is kinda unedited i apologize for any mistakes sndksfjladsafbjka i will edit later on. warnings: the following series is intended for a mature audience and may contain graphic language, graphic violence, weapons (guns/katana swords/chopsticks), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, gambling, murder, gang activity, memory loss/amnesia, sassy and on guard reader, unreliable characters, haegeum!agust d, haegeum!yoongi, tale of two MYGs technically, LMAO, TEAM SUGA! appearances as mafia men, assassins, slow burn, fight sequences, power imbalance, future smut scenes that may contain some bdsm elements, multiverse implications, tattoos, etc. drop date: october 29th, 2024, 9:00pm pst word count: 5.5k – –

The world slowly comes into focus, the haze of unconsciousness lifting like a dissipating fog. You blink, your eyelids heavy as if weighed down by lead. The room around you is unfamiliar, dimly lit by a lamp on a nearby table. The scent of damp wood and something herbal lingers in the air. You try to move, but a sharp, throbbing pain in your head forces you to stay still.

Panic surges through you. Where are you? Why can’t you remember anything?

You glance around, the room’s details gradually becoming clearer. It is small and sparsely furnished, with wooden walls and a single window covered by a thick, faded curtain. But the strangest part is that you can't recall how you got here or what happened before. Your mind is blank, a void where your memories should be.

Well, almost blank.

Two things are certain in your mind: your name—whatever comfort that brings—and the image of a man, his face marked by a prominent scar, entering this very room. Yet, in the memory, the man looks different—his features more vivid, his clothing distinct. He is wearing a green jacket. You cling to that detail as if it were a lifeline in the sea of confusion.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the creaking of the wooden floor. You turn your head—slowly, cautiously—and see him. The man from your memory stands at the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and relief.

“You’re up? You’ve been asleep for a couple of days now.”

His voice is deep, carrying a warmth that contrasts with the sternness of his appearance. The scar on his face is unmistakable, and yet something about him seems off, like a piece of a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit.

“Who are—” you start to ask, but the words catch in your throat as a sudden, stabbing pain shoots through your temples. You wince, pressing a hand to your forehead as you try to steady your breathing.

The man’s eyes narrow, his concern deepening. “Easy, doll, don’t strain yourself. You’ve been through a lot.”

Doll?

His tone is soothing, but it only heightens your unease. Why does he look so familiar? And why does the memory of him in that green jacket feel so significant?

“I... I can’t remember… why can’t I remember?” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your fear and confusion. “I can’t remember anything, except your face. But you looked different... the green jacket...”

The man frowns, clearly troubled by your words. He steps closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if trying not to startle you.

“Listen,” he says gently, grasping your cheek. “You’ve been through something traumatic. It’s normal to feel disoriented. But you’re safe now, alright? We’ll figure this out together.”

His reassurance does little to ease the growing tension in your chest. As he speaks, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that there’s something he isn’t telling you—something important that lies just beyond your grasp.

But for now, with your head pounding and your body weak, all you can do is nod and hope that the answers will come soon.

His phone rings, the sound slicing through the uneasy quiet of the room. The man glances at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before pulling the phone from his pocket. He answers it without a word, his face hardening as he listens to the person on the other end. After a tense moment, he turns away, stepping out of the room.

The door creaks shut behind him.

You wait, the minutes stretching into what feels like an eternity. Ten minutes pass, then thirty, and still, there is no sign of his return. Your unease grows. Why hasn’t he come back yet? What was that phone call about?

The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as your anxiety gnaws at you. You try to stay still, but the silence is suffocating. You need to get out of bed.

With some effort, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as your body protests the movement. Every muscle feels sore, as if you’ve been through something physically draining. Your feet touch the cool floor, and you slowly stand, swaying slightly as the room spins for a moment. Steadying yourself, you look around, eyes settling on the door.

You have to investigate. You need to understand what is happening.

Just as you take a step toward the door, it swings open with a soft creak. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as a new figure enters the room.

It is a woman, dressed sharply in a tailored black suit that contrasts her bright orange bob cut. She moves with an air of quiet confidence, her eyes locking onto yours with a steady, calm gaze. She seems close to your age, though something about her presence feels more mature, more composed.

“Hello,” she says, her voice smooth and professional. “My name is Adora. Apologies, as Mr. Agust had to step out unexpectedly, but he kept me up to speed with everything going on and told me to help care for you in the meantime.”

You blink, taking in her words, still processing the situation.

Mr. Agust? That’s his name?

Adora approaches the small table by the bed and sets down a neatly folded bundle of clothes. “I’ve brought you some clothes,” she adds, gesturing toward the bundle. “I imagine you’d want to change into something more comfortable.” She glances at you, wearing a white spaghetti-strapped nightgown. Yeah, you need to change out of this.

“Who… who is Mr. Agust?” you ask, your voice hoarse from disuse. The question has been burning in your mind ever since you woke up.

“Oh! The man who was just in here before me. Agust D,” she says happily. “He’s been looking after you since… well, since the incident.”

“The incident?” you repeat, confused. “What happened to me?”

Her smile fades, and a shadow of concern crosses her features. “I’m afraid that’s something only Mr. Agust can explain to you. He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

She steps back, giving you space, and nods toward the clothes again. “Go ahead and take a shower before changing. I’ll wait outside if you need anything.”

And once again, you are left alone.

You grab the bundle of clothes, the fabric soft under your fingers as you unfold them. A white, long-sleeved collared shirt, a plaid skirt, and knee socks—an odd combination. Your brow furrows. Is this a school uniform? The thought seems out of place, considering everything else, but you push it aside. Right now, getting cleaned up and dressed feels like the first step toward reclaiming some control.

There is a small door beside your bed that leads to a bathroom. You open it and are greeted by a modest, clean space. The tiles are cool beneath your feet as you walk toward the shower. Your mind feels murky, still clouded by the lack of memory, and every detail around you seems both unfamiliar and strangely mundane at the same time.

As the hot water sprays down from the rain showerhead on the ceiling, you stand still for a moment, letting the warmth wash over you. It feels good, the steam wrapping around your sore muscles, loosening the tension that has built up since waking. Slowly, you begin to move, running your hands through your hair, watching the water swirl around your feet. You glance down at your body, your movements still careful, as though you fear something is waiting beneath the surface of your skin.

And then, you notice them—bruises. Small, fading marks dot your legs and arms, some yellowing at the edges, others still dark purple. Scrapes, too, healed over but unmistakable, mar your skin. You gently touch one on your forearm, wincing at the slight sting.

What happened to you? Frustration bubbles up inside you, making your throat tight. Every mark tells a story, a piece of the puzzle that should be obvious. But all you have are fragments, and none of them make sense.

You close your eyes, trying to summon any trace of a memory, something that could explain the bruises, the scrapes, the pain in your muscles. But there is nothing. Just emptiness.

Your hands shake slightly as you rinse off, the water turning from soothing to overwhelming. You finish quickly, the hot steam doing little to quell the storm of confusion and frustration rising within you.

Stepping out of the shower, you catch your reflection in the small, fogged-up mirror. You wipe it with your hand, staring at yourself, but the person staring back looks just as lost. No answers. No clarity.

With a sigh, you turn away and dry off, pulling on the strange outfit—first the crisp white shirt, then the plaid skirt and knee socks. The uniform fits well enough. Did you used to wear this before as well? You're left wondering too many things...

After slipping into a comfortable pair of slippers that you find beside the bed, you step out of the room for the first time. The hallway greets you with a soft, dim glow, revealing that evening has settled in. Shadows dance across the walls as you cautiously make your way forward.

Adora is sitting in a chair by your door, casually scrolling through her phone. At the sound of your footsteps, she looks up, her orange hair catching the light.

“Miss! All done? Do you need anything?” she asks, standing up swiftly with an attentive smile.

“Yeah, all done,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I just... want you to show me around. I’m having a little trouble recalling some things.” You hesitate, wary of revealing too much. If people know about your memory loss, they could use it against you. But surely Adora had been informed by Agust D beforehand, right?

Adora’s eyes softened. “No worries, Mr. Agust did mention this detail to me.”

You’re correct.

“I’ll show you around and get you updated on the things I’m cleared to inform you on,” she adds.

Cleared? The word hangs in the air, making you wonder just how much is being kept from you. Still, you nod. “That’s fine.”

Adora leads the way down the hall, and your tour begins. The mansion is far larger than you anticipate. As you move from room to room, it becomes clear that this place is no ordinary home. The architecture is grand, with high ceilings and long corridors lined with dark wood paneling and expensive-looking art. Every room seems carefully designed, exuding luxury and power.

Your bedroom is relatively simple compared to the rest of the mansion—modest in size with muted tones, though the bed is large and soft. Across the hall, Adora points out Mr. Agust’s room. Unlike yours, it is locked, and she makes no attempt to open it. The door itself is dark wood, with intricate carvings around the frame. You can only imagine what is inside.

Next, she leads you to his office. It’s a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a grand desk made of polished mahogany, and a large window overlooking a courtyard. Papers and files are neatly stacked on the desk, though Adora makes no comment about what they contain. The room has an air of importance, almost like a command center.

The kitchen and dining area are expansive. The kitchen, spotless and gleaming, is staffed with a few workers who nod politely as you pass. The dining room is more formal, with a long table capable of seating at least a dozen people. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead, casting warm light across the room.

The living room is one of the most impressive spaces—a large, open area with plush leather sofas, a marble fireplace, and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The windows here are larger, revealing a darkening city skyline.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in Bangkok. Thailand.”

Bangkok? You know what that place is, but it’s not a location you expected to be in.

As you explore, you begin to notice more people moving through the mansion—mostly bodyguards, dressed in black and stationed at various points. Most of them seem to be Korean, their stoic expressions and quiet movements blending into the background. It’s strange to see so many of them here. A mansion in Thailand, filled with Koreans—it doesn’t add up.

Your curiosity gnaws at you, but you know Adora isn’t the right person to ask. Whatever this is, it feels delicate. You’ll have to wait for Mr. Agust.

After what feels like hours of walking through corridors and staircases, Adora finally leads you to the dining room, gesturing for you to sit at the long table.

“I received word that Mr. Agust has just arrived,” she says, offering you a gentle smile. “You’ll meet him here. The staff has set out some tea and desserts for you while you wait.”

You look at the table. A silver tray holds a pot of tea and an assortment of small pastries. The aroma is sweet and comforting, but the anticipation makes your hands tremble slightly as you reach for a cup and serve yourself some tea.

“I’ll come back to join you two, along with some of the other guards,” Adora continues. “Mr. Agust will be here shortly.”

Interesting. You’re not sure what to make of this situation.

The dining room grows quieter as you sit alone with your thoughts, nibbling on a cookie to stave off the nerves.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoes through the hallway outside the dining room. You freeze, your pulse quickening as the door swings open. A group of men enters, all dressed in dark suits, their expressions stern and composed. They move in unison, fanning out to take seats around the table, but one man stands out from the rest.

Agust D

He strides in with a commanding presence, his sharp eyes surveying the room as he walks. There’s an air of authority around him that makes the space feel smaller. His dark hair is slicked back, his expression unreadable as he takes the seat at the head of the table.

The sleeves of his shirt are stained red… You don’t want to know if that’s blood, but it’s the only thing you can assume.

 Adora re-enters the room soon after, gliding in with her usual grace. She takes her seat across from you, her calm demeanor unwavering as she folds her hands in front of her. The tension in the room is thick, though it seems invisible to her.

Agust turns to you, his gaze piercing but calm. "I hope you’re feeling a bit more settled," he says, his voice low and even.

Yeah, sure, settled, you think, fighting the urge to laugh. Settled is the last thing you feel in this... “house.” 

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of the room pressing down on you. “Yeah, I suppose,” you mutter, unsure how to respond. You reach for a cookie from the tray in front of you, more out of nervousness than actual hunger.

“I know this place might be overwhelming,” Agust continues, leaning back in his chair. “This is no ordinary home, as you’ve probably gathered by now.”

You swallow hard, the cookie crumbling slightly in your hands. No ordinary home is an understatement. The size, the guards, the secrecy—it all screams something far beyond the normal.

“To formally introduce myself, my name is Agust D. I’m the chief detective for the Asia-Pacific Police Force here in Bangkok. Comprised of officers from all Asia investigating international crime,” he says, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as if daring you to believe him.

You nod slowly, though something about it doesn’t sit right with you. “That’s... interesting,” you begin carefully, “but I don’t think that’s all. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Smart girl. You’re sharp, I’ll give you that.” Agust’s eyes gleam, and a chuckle rumbles from his chest. “No, that’s not all.”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “I am a leader of this mafia family you’ve been seeing.”

Your hand freezes mid-bite, the cookie slipping from your fingers and falling onto the table. Your heart skips a beat. Mafia? Your mind races. Organized crime? How the hell did you get involved in something like this? Fear snakes up your spine as your hands begin to tremble slightly. You can feel your throat tightening, your body responding to the panic rising inside you.

Agust’s eyes soften just a fraction, as if sensing your fear. “Relax,” he says, his voice calm, almost reassuring. “I’m not going to hurt you... you’ve been working for me for quite some time before all of this, after all.”

“Working for you?” you echo, incredulous. None of this makes sense. You shake your head, unable to comprehend. “Me? I... I don’t think so. I mean why would I–”

Agust’s smile returns, and he leans back in his chair, his hand disappearing beneath the table. “It is you,” he says firmly, interrupting you. Without warning, he tosses something across the table.

You flinch, instinctively reaching out to catch it—your hand closing around the handle of a heavy object. What the— A sword? Its weight is oddly familiar in your grip. You stare at it, eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. The scabbard is intricately decorated with a blossom pattern that triggers something deep within you, something familiar.

You’ve seen this before... You’ve used this before.

Grainy and fragmented memories burst through your mind of a time when you’d used this. “Go ahead,” Agust says, his voice quiet but commanding. “Try it out.”

As if under a trance, your fingers move on their own, sliding the blade free from the scabbard. The polished metal gleams in the low light, its sharp edge whispering of battles fought and blood spilled. Before you realize what is happening, you have gotten onto the dining table, moving with fluid precision toward Agust that startles even you.

The bodyguards around the room react instantly, rising from their chairs and drawing guns, all pointed at you. But you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Your body moves on its own, and within a second, you are standing over Agust, the tip of your blade mere centimeters from his throat.

The room is dead silent. Agust doesn’t flinch. He merely raises a hand, a calm gesture to his men. The bodyguards look at him in hesitation, but slowly lower their weapons, keeping their eyes trained on you.

A chuckle escapes his lips. “Did that jog your memory?” he asks, his eyes gleaming with amusement, as if he has been waiting for this moment.

You stare down at him, your chest heaving, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I... only a little…?” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the sword in your hand feels so familiar, so right, but your mind is still a blur of confusion.

“So much bloodlust you’ve got hidden in those eyes. Are you going to cut me down this time, doll?” he asks, his voice teasing, yet there’s a glint of seriousness behind his eyes.

This time? What does he mean by “this time”? 

Despite the odd question, your heart skips a beat.

“W-What?!” you stammer, not understanding what he means. You pull the blade away, stepping back and lowering it to your side. Your hands are still shaking.

Agust smirks but says nothing more about it. Instead, he leans back, seemingly unfazed by how close he has come to death. “So, do you want some of the answers I can provide?”

Enough of this cryptic stuff.

You blink, still trying to process what just happened. “Are you actually going to answer me this time?” you ask, your voice sharper than intended.

Agust chuckles, clearly enjoying this more than you are. “That depends on what you want to know.”

“Hmm…” You hesitate for a moment while Agust signals his men to sit back down. They sit down, resume their positions, and the tension in the room seems to dissolve as if nothing happened just moments ago.

“Now tell me, doll,” Agust says, leaning forward, his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory intensity.

“First of all, who am I? Why do you keep calling me ‘Doll’?” you shoot back, your tone sharper than intended.

Agust lets out a deep breath, almost as if your question bores him. “You don’t have a name, as far as I know, so I call you doll. It’s cute, isn’t it?”

You give him an exasperated roll of your eyes, and he chuckles, as if he expects nothing less. “But besides me, everyone else calls you ‘Dove’—your code name.”

“Why am I here?” you press on, hoping for a more substantial answer.

Agust’s grin grows wider. “Great to see you moving on to this point,” he says, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. “I’m protecting you. Your life is at stake, actually.”

You scoff. “Protecting me from…?”

“Someone.” His tone is vague, and your irritation flares at his refusal to offer more.

“Could you be any more vague?” you mutter, rolling your eyes again, daring him to give you something concrete. “Who is it?”

Agust’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening slightly. He clearly isn’t used to being questioned like this. Just as he opens his mouth to respond, one of the bodyguards at his side, a man with sharp features and an intense gaze, speaks up.

“I don’t think you should ask that right now,” he says firmly. “Just for the sake of your life.”

“Yijeong,” another bodyguard—a much older man with long black locks of hair—warns in a low voice.

Yijeong shrugs, his eyes unwavering. “I’m just looking out for her safety.” It doesn’t sound sincere, to be completely honest.

Agust gives a subtle nod, silencing the exchange with a single glance. Then he turns back to you, his gaze slightly softened. “Anyway, it’s exactly as I said,” he continues, his voice smooth, almost practiced. “As part of my daytime role, I’m a detective. And I’m also an underground mafia boss.”

You stiffen, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a shroud. He isn’t done. “The person after you wants something that you hold the key to—something that we both want.” His tone is steady, a faint glint of ambition in his eyes. “I met you a few years ago and decided to let you live here, by my side, in hopes of finding it.”

You take a shaky breath, your mind reeling as you try to process this. “And I’ve been here ever since… as your right-hand man?”

Agust leans forward, his voice low yet intense. “That’s right. You were essential to our operations. I need you back in action, though. There’s a lot at stake here. We need to find this thing as soon as possible and get rid of this other person trying to kill you.”

You try to wrap your head around the idea that you’ve been living a life entrenched in the shadows of the criminal underworld, working closely with Agust and his organization—yet you can’t remember any of it. The weight of it presses heavily on you, disbelief twisting in your gut.

“So, you’re telling me,” you begin, your voice slightly unsteady but determined, “that I’ve been involved in this… mafia life all this time and now, because of some freak accident that you won’t disclose, I have not a single memory of it?”

“Precisely.” His eyes are fixed on you, unwavering. “Once you start easing into things again, I’ll tell you,” he says, his voice gaining an edge, “but now, I need you to decide.”

The frustration bubbles up within you, and without fully realizing it, you blurt out the most pressing question in your mind. “And what if I refuse?”

“Refuse?”

“Yeah, I mean, this sounds great and all… but I’m not about this mafia life and fighting whatever gang rival you have. Maybe you are mistaken about me.”

“Then…” A dangerous gleam flashes in Agust’s eyes, and before you know it, his hand moves beneath the table. In one swift motion, he pulls out a sleek, polished handgun, the metallic click echoing as he cocks a bullet into the barrel. You flinch, eyes widening as he aims it in your direction, his expression dark but laced with amusement.

“I’ll just kill you right here.” He pauses, letting the threat hang in the air before he lets out a dry laugh.

Holy shit.

What the fuck is that switch-up!?

You knew this man is insane, from the moment he handed you a katana and nearly let you cut him down.

He chuckles softly, an unsettling sound that made your heart race even faster. “Honestly, this could work in my favor anyway.”

Agust tilts his head, eyes narrowing as he keeps the gun trained on you. "Then he will never get his hands on you. Ending it here sounds like a fine choice, doesn’t it?” His tone is almost casual, as if he were discussing nothing more consequential than the weather.

Your throat feels tight, but you hold his gaze, refusing to back down. His words hang in the air, blending with the heavy silence of the room. The other men seated at the table look on, stone-faced, while Adora remains calm, her eyes studying you carefully. You can tell she’s a little worried for you.

“You really think you can just kill me off?” you manage, trying to mask the tremor in your voice. “All this talk about me being your right hand, about me holding the key to something you need. If I’m that important, you can’t just get rid of me. Then you’ll never find what you’re looking for.”

Agust’s lips curl into a smirk. “Oh, doll, I like that fire,” he says, lowering the gun ever so slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. Great, just what you need—a compliment from your potential murderer. “You’re right. I can’t just let you go that easily.”

He leans back, his gaze unwavering as he places the gun on the table, almost within reach yet tantalizingly out of yours. “Let’s make something clear,” he continues, his voice softening yet holding that sharp edge. “You’re right. You’re valuable to me, too valuable to throw away—at least for now.”

For now? That’s comforting. What does ‘for now’ even mean in this context? You thought you were friends for a long time by now. Doesn’t sound like it from this.

The tension in the room lessens slightly, though your pulse is still racing. Agust’s words feel like a reprieve, but only just; you know there’s always another game behind his every sentence, and the stakes are dangerously high.

“Alright,” you reply, forcing a bit of calm into your voice. “Then tell me more. You say I’m the key to something… What is it exactly?”

Agust shrugs, crossing his arms, his expression unreadable. “For now, let’s say it’s a treasure—one that’s extremely valuable to both me and… other interested parties.” He gives a small, almost lazy wave of his hand, brushing off the details as if they’re minor inconveniences.

“Other interested parties?” you press, sensing he’s holding back. “Like the person you’re supposedly protecting me from?”

Agust’s eyes narrow slightly, as though debating just how much he wants to divulge. He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, and gives a curt nod.

 “Yes, exactly like that person. But don’t worry about…them,” he says, his voice dipping lower, almost like a threat wrapped in reassurance. “With me around, you’re safe. They won’t touch you. Besides, doll, you led them on quite a chase right before the accident that happened to you….And now, they know better than to mess with one of the biggest mafias in Bangkok, especially one that has the police wrapped around its finger.”

The words settle over you like a heavy blanket, the weight of the implications sinking in. You haven’t just ended up here by chance, nor is this some benevolent offer of protection. The people after you aren’t merely rivals—they’re people who chased you, people you evaded in the past. And now, you’re under the protection of not just any organization, but a criminal empire with authority woven tightly into Bangkok’s very fabric.

“Wrapped around your finger?” you echo, incredulous but with a hint of fascination you can’t suppress.

He smirks, leaning back in his chair as though he’s merely recounting a successful business venture. “Yes, Bangkok’s finest wouldn’t dare cross me. I’m a chief detective, after all. It’s all very convenient, don’t you think?”

Right, because every girl dreams of being involved with a chief detective who moonlights as a mafia boss. What’s next? A romantic comedy?

You feel your pulse throb in your temples in disbelief. “So that’s why they won’t come after me here?”

“Exactly,” he replies, his tone almost smug. “To come after you here would be a death sentence for them. And they know it.”

You mean, you can’t argue with that logic. Guess you’ll have to stick around this madness for a while.

You slowly slide off the table, feeling the lingering tension in your limbs as you settle back into your seat at the far end of the dining table. Agust watches you with that familiar smirk, clearly pleased with the subtle shift in your demeanor. Once seated, you exhale, steadying yourself before meeting his gaze again.

“And if you continue to stay here,” he begins, his tone softer but laced with intent, “there’s a chance your memories will eventually come back, piece by piece. Trying to leave and figure it all out on your own would be… risky, to say the least.”

He’s giving you an out, it seems, yet he isn’t. The faintest hint of a choice dangles in front of you, a chance to regain who you are—or escape before you learn too much.

Agust’s gaze never wavers. “If you want answers—if you want to understand what’s locked away in that mind of yours—staying is your best option.”

Adora’s gaze is unwavering as well, as though silently urging you to take Agust’s offer. You glance at the others around the table, all of them still and watchful, a powerful, immovable force surrounding you.

“And if I don’t stay?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs, though his eyes hold the barest glint of amusement. “Then I suppose you’ll be putting all that fire to good use. Running from a lot of people… including me.” His smirk softens, but his words are as sharp as ever. “The most dangerous game. It’s your choice, doll. But remember, what’s waiting for you out there isn’t likely to be as welcoming as here.”

Nice way to put it. A warm welcome with care followed by a bullet?

You lean back, trying to process everything. It’s surreal—being told you’ve been living some double life as the right hand to a mafia boss, that you’ve led people on a chase through Bangkok, and now, because of all this, there are people actively out to get you. Just yesterday… well, whenever “yesterday” is, you have no memory of this life. And now, Agust is offering you a choice. Either stay here and trust him to help you find yourself again, or leave and risk everything on your own.

You look down, hands fidgeting on your lap as you think it over. Realistically? You don’t have a lot of options. Even if you leave, where would you go? How would you survive with no memory of who you are? Just the idea of stumbling around Bangkok, a city you barely even remember, trying to outwit… whoever is after you seems like a suicide mission.

Besides, there’s something oddly reassuring about Agust, even if his methods are a bit terrifying. He doesn’t look like he’s about to pull any punches, and for some reason, that makes you trust him more. He isn’t hiding who he is or what he’s capable of, and he isn’t sugar-coating the risks. The entire mafia thing is insane, sure, but something in you stirs with a strange familiarity when he speaks about it. It’s as if you’ve known all along, buried somewhere deep down.

You steal another glance at him, noting how he’s watching you, calm and expectant. He isn’t pushing you, just waiting for you to come to a conclusion.

Finally, you sigh and look up, meeting his gaze. “Fine,” you say, exhaling as if to release the last bits of resistance. “I’ll stay. You protect me, and I… I’ll do whatever I did before and help you get what you’re looking for. If this is my best chance at getting those memories back, then I’ll take it.”

A satisfied smile curves Agust’s lips. “Good girl. I knew you’d come around.”

Adora, who’s been watching from across the table, gives a small and excited nod, and the other bodyguards exchange glances. The tension in the room eases, like the whole crew has been waiting for your decision.

“All right, then,” you say, half to yourself. “Guess I’m back to… whatever this is.”

Agust chuckles. “Welcome back to the family.”

–

–

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for this series! ➸ a(mygdala) pilot one shot #1 - distraction and one shot #2 - infatuation ➸ all fics masterlist

a/n: thank you so much reading! apologies for the very dialogue heavy first chapter in this series as I needed to set up the vibe and expectation of reader and Agust D. We'll get more into the mafia bitty gritty in the next chapter as well as eventual smut in later chapaters for these two before shit goes down hehehehe im sorry it'll be a bit of a wait since it's slow burn... but there will be a ton of charged up tension leading into it heheheheh

i had planned to release this earlier this month but after a very intensive job hunt for the past year + 7 months, i finally found a new job! yay! cries... so future updates will take some time. but please please feel free to send me your thoughts or suggestions on things you'd like to see in this series in the future and i will make sure to incorporate it. :) until next time!

[mistrezzofmagic]

Her voice, a melody of ancient lore, Tells tales of magic, myths of yore. In every note, a spell is cast, Binding the present to the past.

She weaves her song through the air, Filling the void with something rare. A symphony of power and grace, In her realm, she sets the pace.

-The Spellbinder's Song

@pscentral EVENT 32: Magic - Witchy Women from Animation

Blood of Zeus (2020-present) Castlevania (2017-2021) Justice League Dark (2017) Twilight of the Gods (2024-?)

(insp)

[ladyveronikawrites]

I'M YOURS TO KEEP, SO SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME 18 + (Chris Motionless x Nicholas Ruffilo)

Friends in Sin Kinktober 2024

Motionless in White Kinktober 2024 - DAY ONE

🥀For @ao3userfeistycadavers Friends in Sin Kinktober 2024 Collection

-crossposted on wattpad

🥀Pairing: Vampire! Chris Motionless x Vampire! Nicholas Ruffilo

🥀Summary: In this dystopian regency tale, Christopher drags the prince to the city for a night of fun and fright.

🥀Content warning: Supernatural Au, breath play, blood drinking, blood sharing, blow jobs, use of magic,

🥀Author's note: Title comes from Blessthefall's 'Drag Me Under". Story inspired by N. Dune's "Within Her Magic". Shout out to @nerdraging4point0 for being my lovely beta reader💜pics of inspiration (all sfw) chris // nick // the twins 💜Dividers by @saradika-graphics

🥀 word count - 2k

Nicholas groans as he rolls out of bed. Peering up at the setting sun and rubs his eyes warily, a yawn overtaking his whole body with a stretch. He doesn’t know how long he’s been cooped up in his father’s mansion- a punishment for the lack of an heir - but what his father doesn’t know is how he’s been intentionally making himself infertile from a concoction of magical herbs. Nick is tired of his family's traditional bullshit. 

He dresses quickly in ripped jeans and a tight black cotton turtleneck shirt his secret boyfriend stashed for him in the depths of his walk-in closet. After sliding on a pair of boots he’s only worn twice in his life, he drapes himself in a long leather trench coat his boyfriend insisted he wear tonight.

Nick sighs deeply, rolling his eyes as he sends a silent prayer to the void that this night doesn’t go horribly wrong, and he jumps out of the window.

In his bat form, it doesn’t take him long to reach the edge of the city when he knows his boyfriend will be there. They've done this before, but not this risky yet Nick doesn’t have a fuck to give anymore. 

He shifts back into his human body, hair loose and wild against the cool breeze surrounding him. For a heartbeat- if he had one - he drinks in his lover’s appearance and smirks. 

“Fuckin dork,” Nick huffs a laugh, gripping the collar of his love’s coat to pull him into a deep kiss. It’s slow and unhurried, a wet tongue sliding between a pair of lips where they exchange hot breaths and hushed moans. Cool metal brushes against his skin when sloppy kisses mark his cheek and trail down his jaw. 

“We should go, Christopher,” Nick mumbles. The lips pressed against his throat suck an annoyed mark onto his skin. “Seriously,” his voice is flat with an edge of irritation. 

“Relax babe,” Chris whispers hotly in his ear. “We’ve got all the time in the world.” Chris ignores Nick’s request as he continues to pepper kisses on his tattooed skin.

“What if he finds out?”

“I’ve missed you so much,” Chris whines ignoring Nick’s concern, grabbing his lover's hand he whisks them away into the neon city lights.

Nicholas still gets nauseous when Christopher takes them at supernatural speeds, despite them traveling this way almost daily. He wretches behind a large burning metal canister in the dank alleyway, wiping his mouth with his hand, he swallows down more bile. 

“You ok, my love?” Chris asks caressing Nicholas’ cheek which flushes against his touch. 

“I’m fine,” he scoffs pulling away, attempting to hide his embarrassment but he knows Chris sees right through it. 

“C’mon, let’s go dance until the sunrises.” Chris winks, lifting Nicholas’ hand to press gentle kisses to each knuckle.

At the bar, Nicholas settles his stomach by tossing back some bright fluorescent blue liquid Christopher thrust into his hand before disappearing onto the dancefloor. He knows that any minute now, Chris will be returning to drag him to the dancefloor. It’s their usual song and dance; literally, at least once a month when the moon is at its fullest, he takes the chance – when the neighboring territories get restless – Christopher finds them a new spot to get lost in. He knows it's only a matter of time before the King finds out, but he doesn’t care. 

What could possibly be worse than living a lie anyway? 

The glass hardly makes contact with the granite bar top before Nicholas feels himself being dragged away from the booth.

“Darling, you will just love what I have found.” Nick’s eyes go wide when the crowd parts for two very beautiful beings. The neon strobe lights cast an ethereal halo around them. His fangs lengthen on instinct alone and he wills himself to calm down. Feeding may be one of the reasons Chris brought him out tonight – to help him gain strength from all the diluted blood from the hospitals and magical elixirs.

Ever since the slow decline of the human race, supernaturals have expanded across the territories to restore the earth from the poison of overconsumption and overpopulation. The lush green forests Nicholas would run wild in as a youngling were quickly bulldozed and destroyed to be turned into infrastructures for the new city. He watched as the world went from bright green and clear skies to cold concrete and gray. Small aspects of the old world still remain in these long-forgotten cities. 

“Wow,” is all Nick can muster as his brain filters through the loud electronic synth and the dense air around him. He barely registers the bodies dancing and grinding around him – his attention fixed on them. It’s their alluring scent that hits him first as they approach him, both blonde with clear blue eyes and light-tanned skin that has seen more sun than he has. But they don’t have the typical scent of other occult. 

Human. 

Nicholas stands frozen in time as the female approaches him with her simple long white dress and long pin-straight tresses. It’s carefree and unhurried as if she wasn't afraid of being prey tonight, even though she is. With outstretched arms, she pulls the tinted glasses from his eyes causing him to blink a few times. Her skin is clear of ink, branding, or other indication of being owned.

“You have gorgeous eyes.” She smiles as she places them on her face before turning her petite frame and grinding up against him. Nicholas doesn’t stop the groan that settles deep in his throat. Her body pressed up against his feels so– 

Suddenly large warm hands grip his hips as a solid chest presses against his back. Nicholas tenses to the unfamiliar touch as the scent overwhelms him. 

The male. 

“Relax little prince,” his male’s soft sultry voice sends a shiver down his spine. “Your hottie already threatened to rip us into pieces if we misbehave.” The male doesn’t stop his teasing when he trails kisses down Nick’s jaw and the exposed skin about the turtleneck. Nick leans back into him craving more of his touch. He feels something warm like static electricity hovering over his skin, pulling him in, enticing him to slide his hands over the female in front of him. 

“It’s ok, just a little magic. But we aren’t controlling you — just enhancing your mind to what you already desire.”

“Looks like you all are having some fun.” A deep chuckle rumbles from behind him. Nick’s eyes jolt open when fingers grip his chin. When he meets his lover’s eyes, he finds them darkened to onyx and shimmering in lust. Pressure deepens around his jaw as Chris pulls Nicholas from the twins and into his embrace. Chris leans down and sucks Nick’s lower lip between his teeth. Nick presses his hands against Chris’ chest, as Chris threads his fingers through his hair, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss. The world around them slows as the two share a heated moment that leaves them both a little breathless.  

When the two ancient vampires' part, Christopher guides the group to the back where there’s a scattering of leather sofas. The vampires discard their coats onto an empty seat, and then Nicholas turns to the female. The most beautiful sound comes from her parted lips when Nicholas drags her onto his lap. 

“What’s your name, human?” he asks softly, tucking a loose strand of her bright starlight hair behind her delicate ear.

“Daphne, your Highness.” Nicholas watches as she lowers her gaze in submission. 

Being the royal outcast, most pay no mind to him – which he prefers – yet this subtle act has him completely and utterly flustered. “Don’t worry my prince, I will take excellent care of you,” she leans over to whisper in his ear. 

He feels the gentle pull of magic relax him as he leans back and puts his arms around her waist. As she grinds against him, she peppers sweet kisses to his cheeks and jaw. He gasps when she sucks at the delicate skin of his throat, pressing herself harder against his erection. Instantly his fangs extend, and he can’t help when he yanks at her strands pulling her away. 

Getting the hint, she stretches her neck long and his vision focuses on the tender flesh of her throat, a small vein pulses in time with the music surrounding them. Nicholas wraps his strong arms around her, holding her tightly. Inhaling her sweet scent, he drags his nose across the bare skin, and it pebbles instantly. She shivers gracefully and a small moan tumbles from her lips when he kisses and licks at the crook of her neck.

“May I taste you?” He practically moans against her skin, his lips grazing the large vein on the side of her neck. “Please,” he whimpers sucking in a sob.

“Of course, your Highness.” She gasps when his fangs scrape at first, then her body melts into his with a soft moan when he pierces her skin. Her blood tastes of petrichor, of the lost forests, before the humans depleted the earth. The magic in his veins yearn for her, for the land before time. 

Feverishly, he digs his nails into her hips, grinding against her as he takes another pull of her blood. He’s so close to climax it’s almost painful. It’s then he hears the male moan beside him jolting him from the trance. 

Daphne sighs softly when he detaches his mouth from her. Nicholas wipes his mouth on the back of his hand ready to excuse himself to wash away the blood but when he looks down, his brows burrow. Where red usually lies is an unusually clear substance. He looks over to Daphne and his mouth drops open. Her clear blue eyes are now bright green, her ears are pointed, and the wound on her neck is now healing. 

Fae.

Nicholas tenses, eyes alert despite the edges of his vision darkening. 

“Nick, it’s alright,” Chris’ words slur slightly. “They are here to serve us.” Serve us? “Your father-” Nick turns to find the male silencing Chris with a kiss. He watches as Chris yanks at the blond, bringing his lips to the pale column of his neck. Chris flicks his gaze up to Nick before sinking his teeth in. The male’s mouth slacks into a perfect ‘o’ shape and his eyes roll back. The sight only has Nicholas aroused all over again. 

In a blur, Nicholas finds himself being pinned to the couch by the throat. Chris has always been one to be a little reckless, especially in public because of his exhibitionistic nature. Nick will gladly let him be the center of attention if that means he can sink into the shadows. 

“You good?” Chris pants, grinning wildly. Nick answers with a wicked grin, digging his nails into Chris’ hips and thrusting up into him. The friction against his jeans isn’t enough and it’s driving Nick feral. Chris leans down capturing his moan in between his lips. In the corner of his vision, he sees Daphne fall to her knees and the male stands behind her pushing her hair over to the other shoulder to offer her neck once again. Chris spears his lips apart with his tongue as he grinds against him. 

“Open up, darling,” Christopher commands and Nicholas obeys. Chris turns to the female and doesn’t hesitate when he bites down on her neck. She moans loudly and starts to shake, but the male clamps his hands on her shoulders to keep her steady. He detaches himself from the girl and spits the fae blood into his lover’s mouth. 

Nicholas swallows every bit, the magical blood instantly setting his veins alight. It’s all tongue and teeth this time when they kiss. Suddenly, there’s heat around his neck and it’s hard to breathe — Christopher’s element of air. Nick whines when they part, but only for a second when Chris pulls him from his jeans. He sucks him down fast and in no time at all Nick is shooting hot cum in the back of his throat, panting for air. Chris dutifully licks and sucks him clean - releasing his magic –  before crawling back and pressing a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

“That…was���amazing,” Nick pants. “Where did the twins go?” 

Christopher gently pulls Nicholas upright and wraps his arm around him. “Probably to get a drink or dance.” Melancholy grips at Nick’s stomach briefly. He nuzzles himself against Chris as his senses begin to dull. “We will see them again,” Chris promises. “Now let’s get you home before the King finds out.” 

tysm for reading and reblogging❤️

👑Royal Readers👑

@deathblacksmoke @mysticdoodlez @sitkowski @snarkysolaris @collapsedglasshouses @shilohrosechicken

@cookiesupplier @iknownothingpeople @dominuslunae @agravemisstake @the-ancient-fae

@itsafullmoon @philomenie @th4t-em0-k1d @baddestomens @rumoured-whispers

@blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence @tearfallpixie @nerdraging4point0

@omensbrainrot @awkwardalex @latenightmusiclover

[madeofcc]

2023 Top ♥

Tagged by @someone-elsa and @shesthespinstersimmer ♥ Thanks a lot !

I didn't remember doing all that this year !

Thanks a lot to everyone who's been following me through this journey. 2023 was one of the worst year of my life but also one of the best weirdly so let's hope 2024 will be better for everyone ♥

below the cut I'll put the link and explanations for each edit

1/ The Moonlight/Moonwood Tales concept : Based on the lore that came with the werewolves pack, I imagined a story that would explain everything between the werewolves, vampires and spellcasters. I actually prepared a plan for season 1 ... Maybe I'll post it next year ?

2/ The stories I planned for this year but so far, only Melodia is still going. DH3 will start next year sadly and Another Side has been cancelled because of lack of time and a bad computer.

3/ Aïssa in the city : a special photoshoot/lookbook with some items I love and also a small interview including infos about DH2 and 3. It's also a way for me to show more about Aïssa's modeling life. The title is also a reference to the upcoming spin-off about her ...

4/ The DH3 women and the DH3 gang because I want you to love them when the story will start !

5/ The EDGEWAVE fest organised by @aniraklova ♥ It surely was my favourite event this year ! What an awesome idea it was and a lot of people did amazing stuff during 2 weeks ! You saved our summer for sure ! I used Candy Bher as a reference to Another Side and MOON who's a character in DH3 ...

6/ Toxic Don ! A potential new Another Side story I've been thinking about years now ... It would be fun !

7/ The Ghostface DH3 edits : It's a reference to DH3 and Scream of course; the plot will be a tribute to Wes Craven actually !

8/ The Melodia musical video part : it actually was awesome and fun to create but it took me an entire month just for this little video. I decided to stick to a more boring regular way to post this story. I also don't have a lot of readers so far so I guess they will forgive me. I still see it as one of my biggest achievement here though so check it if you can ^^ I love how the episode turns into a musical movie

9/ @windbrook's Slashed Challenge : it was one of my favourite CAS challenge of all time ^^ I'm a huge slasher fan ! It was perfect for simblreen and people created awesome characters and stories !

10/ A makeover of the Three Sages that comes with Realm of Magic : Ana Mae is actually an original OCs, they all should appear in DH4 and 5 ... Morgyn should be very important in DH4 actually ...

11/ URBZ Mag DH3 edition ! Get the girls part here and the boys part there ♥ I love doing fake interviews and mag covers ! Sorry not sorry

12/ Valentines day ♥ My favourite is the one with the Destiny, Leïla and Aïssa because it's funny and feminist, what this trio is together ! They surely had a great night that day, it's also supposed to happen after Melodia so ...

13 / Franck and Madame Sophie : the first drag sims I create ! I wanted one for the Aïssa spin-off so I guess it will be them :)

14/ Recent edits I like : Maria Perron for @birdietrait's coven (I love her and I'd love to make a little story about her) / An other Another Side new idea focused on Venessa Jeong / Destiny's last portrait for the ocs associations

15/ My favourite gif coming from Another Side Episode 1 : I think it's the best ending for this episode as it shows all the plots and times together. Everytime I see it I want to get back to the story ...

Tagging @trippisimmies @badwoohoo @bobnewbie @uwutrait @frzr-bunny @windbrook @eslanes @budgie2budgie @nefarrilou @kashisun @birdietrait @castawavy @agena87 @fangs-trait @peonypyxels @barbieaiden @void-imp @ladybugsimblr @xldkx @nilonne @bakersimmer @whyhellosims @mangosimoothie @djservo @sea-cross @surely-sims @hufflepuff-sim @aniraklova @therichantsim @wolfavens @cinamun @alelelesimz @moontaart @pralinesims @cyberth0t @squea @helloavocadooo @cross-design @rebouks @crazy-lazy-elder-sims and anyone else who'd like to join ♥ feel free to tag me or ignore this as well ^^ (Also, check out these blogs, they're all great !)

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Tea With the Raven King (2024) by American artist and illustrator, Lisbeth Cheever-Gessaman (born in 1960). :: Mixed media

+

Artist statement

"For those who know the language of birds ...

"A curious encounter unfolds within me somewhere between a memory and a dream. A strange little girl, no more than seven winters old, seated at a timeworn table beneath the gnarled branches of an ancient oak, her eyes a peculiar blend of innocence and knowing beyond her years.. Across from her, is the Raven King - a creature both majestic and inscrutable, draped in feathers as dark as the void between stars. His eyes, glimmering with secrets, are fixed upon the girl, and his sharp beak almost - but not quite - curls into a knowing smile.

"The tea, a silvery brew with the aroma of autumn and twilight, swirls in the cup with a life of its own, reflecting an ephemeral dance of light that filters through the canopy of trees. As the girl pours a cup, her expression is curious and intent, as though the tea itself speaks the Raven King’s secrets of unremembered realms and forgotten dreams.

"And it is here where the boundaries of what is known dissolve. The Raven King, a being of ancient wisdom and whimsical charm, and the little girl, a symbol of untamed curiosity, share a communion that transcends the ordinary. Their tea party, a ritual of shared enchantment and whispered tales, is a testament to the boundless magic that permeates the inner realm of every woman who secretly knows she is a bird girl.

"This work then is not meant as a mere capturing of a moment but a reminder of soul and a true north, as well as an invitation to journey into the heart of a world where the fantastical and the real are intertwined in a delicate dance. That to be alive is a mystery and within the realm of the extraordinary, even the most mundane moments are forever suffused with wonder and magic."

(A Celebration of Female Artists)

+

"A children's story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children's story in the slightest."

"Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."

C.S. Lewis

[star-farer]

until my love returns to me

Summary: In which the child who can no longer be kept in her buire's care lingers even still in their memories. AU: Ik'aad, HFSW Taglist: @kybercrystals94 @fionas-frenzy @padawancat97 @margindoodles2407 @dreamsight73 @comfy-vember

Comfy-vember 2024, Day 12: Hand on shoulder, Day 13: Surprise compliment

Author's note: Decided to play with their speech patterns to fit the HFSW AU better this time 'round. I hope it works out fine, Margin! And I'm very much open to criticism concerning it; writing sailors are a completely new area whose jargon I had to research a little on.

“Shoulda known I’d find you here.”

The voice makes him jump. “Kriff!”

Hunter laughs, soft and warm in the cool night air. A scowl over dulled leather is his reward.

“I’d have sent you o’erboard fer that,” says Crosshair, watching with narrowed eyes as his brother comes to lean against the ship’s railing beside him.

The elder huffs a breath that is part fondness and part amusement. “Tis well that I am the quicker, then, aye?”

“With the blade, perhaps.” Once more, the archer turns to face the calm horizon, watching the blue sky graze the shimmering dark seas. “The tale o’ the arrow is another entirely.”

“Ah, ‘course,” hums Hunter, bending his head to consider the murky waters lapping up the sides of the ship, “The arrow belongs to ye alone.”

Silence settles gently about them, not heavy and deafening as the chambers they are locked in for disobedience, but replete with the songs of the sea. The shifting waves murmur to each other, the winds whistle past on swift and briny wings, and hanging high amongst the iridescent stars is the pale face of the moon.

Peace is what he would name this silence, if not for the sorrow quietly stirring in his heart.

A sigh darts along the slim layer twixt water and air. “You’ll vaunt for hours on end ‘bout your prowess, vod’ika, I’ve no doubt o’ that. But it surely cannot be the reason for your vigil on a night so calm as this.”

There is a quiet request intwined along Hunter’s words with the mastery of a wordsmith. Akin to a dear hand held out to be taken, his shadowy voice is kind, patient. He is asking Crosshair to unveil his thoughts, to lay bare his grief.

The grey head bows to the reflections shivering across the inky surface. At the corner of his eye, the moonlight glints off the ring on his finger.

To accept the invitation is tempting.

To refuse, even more so.

The words sit on the edge of his tongue, awaiting the command of his hesitant mind. Tis naught to concern you. I had want only for a fresh breath of sea-air.

Like the swinging sword, the gaze he meets when he dares to lift his head lays waste to the words so well-wrought in his mouth. They die, shriveling as stale fruit, and coat his throat dry with their ashes. He holds ceremony for their loss with the tears that burn his eyes.

“Omega,” comes his rasping voice, and Hunter lifts his face to his, “I cannot forget her face.”

There is a strength, a firmness in the hand that comes to clasp his shoulder, and he draws his courage from it, leaning into its warmth.

“That is well—”

Disbelief strikes him across the cheek. “Well?”

“Nayc, hear me, brother.” Hunter’s mouth is a thin line. “That you ne’er forget our girl, that your memory of her face is not taken from you, tis a good thing. You carry her still in your heart and soul.”

“We clones bear souls?” he says with all bitterness.

But Hunter’s grip tightens, fingers digging past the layers of his blacks. A light gleams with ferocity in his dark eyes, the stars laughing cold silver in the black void. “Aye,” he growls, a fury barely restrained in his voice, “Elek. My brothers bear souls. I care none for the dogs that think elsewise.”

And though he wishes to refute this claim, Crosshair wraps one hand around Hunter’s wrist in accord, as always he has. Never once has his ori’vod let lies spill from his teeth. There is no reason to believe he will start henceforth, least of all with such conviction blazing in his face.

The younger dips his head in a single nod, chin tipping down to the deck they stand upon with planted feet.

Slowly, Hunter exhales.

“I understand, ner vod. Truly, I do. There are days and nights, dusks and dawns when all that fills me mind is the thought of her. But she is safe. Sundered from her kin, aye, but safe.” A sorrowed smile lifts his gloomy air. “And most important is that she remains in yer thoughts. Might keep you awake at all Force-forsaken hours, but she did that when we had ‘er too.”

Crosshair huffs a rueful chuckle at the memory of little hands patting his cheeks. Ever lively, their ad’ika, and never still. To keep her sat had proven o’er and again a challenge fit for kings, feet eager to run the miles and hands willing to climb the world.

And this memory, even as it whirls in his mind’s eye as a dream of an era lost — it wounds him with such yearning to remember the child he cannot return to. The child who has seen neither sun nor moon nor the uncountable stars, who has neither stepped on dry land nor breathed the fresh air. The child who was, despite all her lacking, wonder incarnate, her laughter pure, her eyes wide and glistening, her arms ever outstretched.

“You hold her in your heart, Cross,” says his brother, all tenderness, all love. Naught else is to be found in his warm gaze, naught else in the creases around his smiling mouth and eyes.

“Aye,” breathes Crosshair at last, with weighty voice and weighty heart, “Yet what I would give to hold her in my arms.”

And great fathoms beneath the ocean, lying in her subnautical chambers, the little clone-girl whispers the selfsame prayer as she slowly drifts to sleep, alone.

[elliewiltarwyn]

FFXIV Write 2024 | #9: Lend an Ear

Word Count: 867

Third Umbral Moon, 22nd Sun

So much has happened, yet there’s only one little touch that has overtaken my mind.

Zenos lies dead by his own hand, even after channeling the might of Ilberd’s primal, Shinryu. The Empire has been driven from Gyr Abania by the combined forces of the Resistance and the Alliance. Ala Mhigo, at last, is a free nation once more.

But there are multiple things that haunt me even as the dust settles. First… Zenos. Even as we came face-to-face and crossed swords, the look in his eyes was hungry in a way I have never seen in my enemies before, continuing this strange yearning sensation that I had begun to pick up on when he defeated me in Yanxia. He spoke of the connection he and I shared even as he held Shinryu’s yoke…and he even invited me to join him. To partake in our shared interests together.

I rejected him, of course. But even so…at the end, as he held his own sword to his throat, he met my eyes…and he bade me, “my first friend. My enemy,” farewell.

I can’t untangle what that means - how his definition of friend somehow became so entwined with that of enemy. What sorts of horrors within me that he saw and empathized with.

Because it’s not quite the horror displayed by Aulus mal Asina, whom we confronted mere minutes before Zenos himself. The engineer who kidnapped and tortured Lily and Krile, who put both Fordola and Zenos under the knife to experiment with an artificial Echo.

Mia’s father.

She showed no hesitation, only grim determination and…maybe even a bit of the darkness that Zenos purported to see in me. She brutally, efficiently dismantled him, saving us from his soul-jacking maneuver and completely wrecking his mobile weapons platform. She bore down upon him as he scrambled back against the wall with a hardness in her face I’ve never seen before. And when he tried to lash out, when he blasted Lyse with some secret gadget as she tried to cuff him…

Mia stabbed him through the heart without even flinching.

None of us asked her to - but she still took it upon herself to bear the burden of patricide.

For all my messy feelings about Zenos, can they even begin to compare to what she must have felt as she looked upon the horrified face of her own father, impaled on her own blade?

I didn’t think she’d want to speak with anyone, disquieted by those feelings as much as I am with Zenos. But at the celebration that night, in the shadow of Rhalgr’s frame carved into the cliffside of his Reach, she sought me out, more soused than I’ve ever seen her and grumbling about how she definitely didn’t want to think about it, that she specifically looked for me to spend the party with because I am, to quote, “a good nonthinking buddy - I know you won’t ask me a bunch of annoying questions. Nothing about my absolute… fucker of a dad…”

So, knowing full well how much we’re both wrestling with ignominious, complex thoughts, I told her “I won’t ask, but if you need to talk… I can lend an ear.”

…and she did. I learned a lot about her past. About how little she saw her parents, how she sort of filled the void with the next-door neighbor Jullus and his family. How she didn’t realize what she was missing until she escaped Garlemald. How she had never known how starved for touch and affection and care she was until right now, right here - when she’s nestling herself into my embrace.

If you had told me when I first joined the Scions that I’d ever end up holding Mia Longhart in a caring embrace as she drunkenly unburdened her troubles, I would’ve laughed you out of the room or accused you of spinning wild faerie tales. Fuck, you can see in this very journal, in my entries from years ago, how annoyed I had been at her self-righteousness, her weird moral superiority. Yet here she was in my arms tonight, now one of my closest friends, breaking into a flood of tears as she cursed the monstrous father she had, lamenting that he couldn’t have been like mine, or Lyse’s…

And when she had worn herself out… she thanked me for being here, for listening… for showing her what she was missing. And then she kissed my cheek. And then passed out on my shoulder.

It’s been, I don’t know, maybe two hours since then; I carried her to bed and left her there to write this while watching people celebrate outside. And even with all this tumult inside me, over Zenos’s words and Lyse’s departure from the Scions and everything else… I can still feel the touch of her lips on my cheek, and I am very conscious of how tightly I’m holding on to that sensation like a port in a storm.

…Funny that I did get to comfort her about her father after all. That flame of jealousy isn’t nearly as strong anymore, at least.

Like that’s really the important issue here. Ugh.

[purplepixel]

About PurplePixel

Heyo! Im PurplePixel (any pronouns) but you can call me Pixel! In case you cant tell— I like turtles

Fun Pixel Facts

B.A. in Animation

Tortle fan since Sept. 2022 (thank you skulltrot)

Turtles cured my 2 year post college burnout

Has read over 1k rise fanfics

Background Artist for Rise Season 3: A New Age

TORTLE Fanart Master Post

My Art | Silly rambles | My asks | My current wip

Rise of the TMNP

My Rise/Pokemon AU

Intro

Smarts n' Crafts Hug

Mikey doodle

Donnie Illustration

Mikey and Larvesta

Animations

ROTTMNT Reanimated Project Scene 146

Who is Your Favorite Fearless Hero?

I miss you

if everything's ok than why do i feel this way?

Stop Crying Meme

Fanfic Appreciation Art

Bc yall need to be put on blast for feeding me. Seriously. Thank you

Angelo, Let Go! from Empathy Amplified

Raph & Toph from A Tale of Spirits

A Failed Rescue from Like Father Like Son

Donnie's POV from Spider's Web with Strings Attached

SWSA Doodles from Spider's Web with Strings Attached

Astros and Tyrian from Spider's Web with Strings Attached

Voided Colors [comic] from Spider's Web with Strings Attached

Terracotta and Rouge What if from Spider's Web with Strings Attached

I Promise to Catch You from Spider's Web with Strings Attached

Last updated: 10/24/2024

[k-nayee]

In the cold, vast expanse called space...

∘₊✧───────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧───────✧₊∘

∘₊✧───────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧───────✧₊∘

...you are the center of my universe.

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ CREATOR | SLOW UPDATER and I do mean s l o w. kiki, she/her, 20, enigmatic dreamer, AuDHD/Neurodivergent

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ BLACK-CODED/POC READER. as stated, this blog and any of the stories written will have connotations of a black woman (mainly no red blushing or pale skin), but can be read by any ethnicities/races <3

∘₊✧───────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧───────✧₊∘

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ HOME. this is an 18+ writing blog; this blog contains sfw, [n]sfw, and dark content.

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ DNI. even if wanted, cannot truly control who consumes my work, so if you are a minor read at your own discretion

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ REQUESTS. to avoid overload, will not take random requests and try to hold scheduled dates to do so

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ RECENT. recently uploaded. Liability...ASSEMBLE!! Marvel

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ STARDUST. posts with these ✩ are teasers from unfinished projects and ideas. lol told y'all imma slow updater

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ EXTERNALS. archive of our own / wattpad / quotev

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ RECOMMEND. don't mind me just showing my sister Winxanity, she writes just as much as me (even more lol) and you'll most definitely love her writing!

∘₊✧───────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧───────✧₊∘

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑 ᵇᵗˢ | SUN ❝draw me in and set me aflame...you are the center of it all❞

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐎 ᵇⁿʰᵃ | MERCURY ❝whispering secrets of the universe...you swiftly take the cosmic stage❞

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐑 ᵐᵘˡᵗⁱ-ᶠᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐˢ | VENUS ❝cloaked in mystery and allure...your beauty harbors an untamed fire❞

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 ᵗʷᵈ | EARTH ❝blue jewel in the vast void...you cradle life and myriad dreams❞

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 ʰᵒᵗᵈ | MOON ❝closest confident...in your phases we find our reflection❞

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 ᵗᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒˡᶠ | MARS ❝stained by iron...your silence reveals tales of valor and endeavor❞ [COMING SOON!]

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ⁱʷᵗᵛ | JUPITER ❝majestic monarch of the skies...your storms hold hearts greater than earth❞ [COMING SOON!]

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘 ʰᵃⁿⁿⁱᵇᵃˡ | SATURN ❝ringed maestro...your icy dance echos a symphony of beauty❞ [COMING SOON!]

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ʰᵒᵗᵈ | URANUS ❝leaning on your side, you spin...spin an axis of rebellion and uniqueness❞ [COMING SOON!]

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐓𝐑𝐀����𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ᵏⁿʸ | NEPTUNE ❝from a distance you watch...gaze encompass a solitude unknown❞ [COMING SOON!]

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 ʰᵗᵍᵃʷᵐ | PLUTO ❝though demoted, you remain undiminished...a resilence that teaches strength in the shadows❞ [COMING SOON!]

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐗 ʲʲᵏ | SHOOTING STAR ❝blaze across my sky for only a moment...but in that second, you're all I see❞ [COMING SOON!]

ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 ᵇⁿʰᵃ | ROUGE PLANET ❝drifting untethered through the void…a lost light still burning in the dark❞ [COMING SOON!]

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

── all rights reserved K-NAYEE 2020-2024. any and all fanfiction seen here belongs to me unless stated. please do not copy, plagiarize, translate, repost, or upload on any social media (tiktok, youtube, hell even facebook) without my permission.

[ayakamizu]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 4 - Reticent

Reticent: Adjective. Disposed to be silent or not to speak freely; reluctant or restrained. Characters: The Crystal Exarch, Ayaka Mizushima (WoL) Expansion: Shadowbringers Rating: T Notes: Warning for mentioned character deaths in another timeline, which involves minors. Takes place at the start of Shadowbringers and there are spoilers for the expansion as a whole!

No matter how much time passed, nothing would prepare the Exarch to see her again.

In his dreams, he envisioned Ayaka as he last saw her—hale and whole, giving him a reassuring smile as the doors slowly closed between them. A bright light in the creeping darkness, just like she had been in her encounter with a Queen of the Void. Perhaps it was then that he realized the full extent of his feelings, but by then destiny’s hold on him had come and the responsibilities of the Allag bloodline rested upon his shoulders.

(In his nightmares, he saw her lying motionless on the floor between young, identical figures. All three of them were unnaturally pale with their hands clasped together in a literal death grip—)

Ayaka was sadder than he last saw her, quieter in a way that spoke more to distance than the shyness he previously knew from her. Time and loss had hardened the Warrior of Light’s heart, fractured it in different ways than he could imagine. All the remaining records of the Warrior of Light detailed it clearly—a knight of Ishgard, a woman that embodied the ice she called home, and a mage of great renown. A few spoke of a woman with impeccable kindness who one day disappeared from all records about the Scions.

(Selfishly, he wondered if her heart yearned for the man known as G’raha Tia. The way she spoke his name upon seeing the Tower’s structure made him feel dizzy. Ayaka hadn’t known how much restraint it took to keep himself from reacting.)

The Exarch had spent a hundred years coming up with a plan to prevent that future from coming true. To fight for the survival of the people of the First. He could not falter in his quest to save those he held dear in both worlds.

No matter how desperately he wanted to tell her, he could not. 

(“An extraordinary tale. But I'm afraid I found no such individual residing in the tower when it passed into my care,” he said, feeling as stiff as a board and stomach churning uncomfortably.

“Oh,” she responded, eyes never straying from the Crystal Tower. “That’s… odd. I thought he would be here.”

Quieter, she said, “I hoped he would be here.”

The grip he had on his staff tightened, but she was too distracted to notice. “...Mayhap we can revisit that mystery another time. For now, I think it best that we focus on the present.”)

The Exarch was destined to meet death’s doorstep—he would not leave her with a heart broken even further. So he would watch from afar and pray she would forgive him in the end.

[thieves-oasis]

@tes-summer-fest 2024 - DAY ONE: Breath or Forbidden

‘One foot in the grave’

-Neiana Death-Rattle

(TW: death, gore)

[The sequence of events that led to Neiana’s fate.]

Word count: 1,371

I have not known them for long. These people that I travel with are new to me - they sought me out for information regarding the whereabouts of my criminal sister, and I agreed to assist them in finding her without even learning their names. A part of me hoped that in joining their search, I could convince her to come back home, to drop all of this power-hungry nonsense and go back to making burnt ardknots in the kitchen together while our adoptive parents were out dealing with some sort of political issue that had nothing to do with us. I had held onto that hope even when the mercenaries came to me telling tales of death and destruction caused by my dear sister’s hand. I held onto that hope as we entered the village that reeked of death and decay. I even held onto that hope as we walked through the bloodied streets, as I stepped over the corpses of the villagers I once knew by name, as I watched one of the mercenaries slip in a pile of guts and bile only to keep themselves afoot by placing a hand on the hanging cadaver of a young man. Even through all of the carnage, I held onto hope that somewhere within the monster that committed these awful acts sat my dear Dahlia. But now, here I lay in a pool of my own blood, my sister’s blade embedded within my chest as I stare into her once kind, moss green eyes. Those eyes that once gave me comfort when I slipped on the stones in Hroldan and scraped my knee, the eyes that proudly watched as I placed offerings upon the Hunt-Father’s altar on his summoning day for the first time, those eyes that now hold nothing but hatred for me, who has become nothing but a stepping stone on the path to power. A simple obstacle.

The first moments of pain were excruciating. Dahlia had coated her blade in some sort of vile poison that I could feel spreading throughout my entire body. It was a pain unlike any I had experienced before, searing yet dull - as if I had just pulled my hand out of boiling water, but not quite. This pain lasted longer. I felt it spread as my sister removed the weapon from my chest, as I watched her disappear into a foul smoke, taking all sound with her. The voices of the mercenaries slowly faded into nothingness, replaced only by the pounding of my heart that bounced through my skull, solid silence interrupted by the banging of a drum that played simultaneously with every shallowing breath I took. Eventually, everything stopped. I could see a fading battle in the distance as one of the mercenaries looked down at me with sorrow in their eyes, a strange sight coming from those I had just recently met, but a welcome one as now I knew that I had made an impact on the people who would see me enter the next door of existence.

I came from a clan that found meaning after death - necromancers who saw death as not an end, but as a new chapter that led to the Spirit Queen’s embrace. Death needs to happen. It is the only pilgrimage that we of the Death-Rattle have. Even though my clan is now a thing of the past, I still held on to the beliefs that I was raised with, even as my father told me to abandon who I was and accept whatever life came to me, even as I watched tears form in his eyes as he handed my sister and I off to the orphanage hoping that we would be spared from the war that raged on within the Reach, I still told myself that this life was temporary. That each step I took on Nirn would help me grow into a perfect soul to feed the Void.

But even with those thoughts that once comforted me, I am scared.

It is easy to say one does not fear death whilst they live and breathe. I had thought I would be calm in this final moment, but as my final breath crawled from my lips, the once sunken fear began to bubble up to the surface of my mind, creating waves that lashed against the shores of calm, violently tearing down the walls of belief that I had built until there was nothing but a violent flood that wiped out my last structure of consciousness.

As the darkness ate me whole, the fear drifted away.

In between life and death, there is a split path. One path leads to a new life separate from this one, and the other leads to the end. I have been here before and chosen the path of life many times. But my favor with Hircine has grown thin, and I do not wish to live a life where the line risks snapping. And so, I look to the path of death and take a step forward. The Black Fly embraces me and my skin begins to slough off into piles of memories that hold no meaning, my bones turn to ash and I am complete. All pain ceases to be as the weight of flesh is lifted and she unhinges her jaw. I am content with my consumption. The void awaits me and I will float among her until the heart begins beating once more, until he who hunts fights alongside my people and my delicious soul provides sustenance for The End. I look into her maw, accepting the nothing that is to come.

But it never does.

Something pulls my bones back together. My flesh begins to pile back upon me, weighing me down as I begin sinking into the dirt, I try to meet the eyes of the Spirit Queen but she refuses to look down. Refuses to see me. I melt into the ground, reaching out, trying to call to her for help but she does not respond. My memories return and I remember who I was, I remember the fear and the hurt and the sorrow until there is nothing left to reach for and I am buried… alive.

And suddenly, there is pain again.

Not as excruciating as the pain that led me to this state, but it was pain. Warm, vibrant… and very much alive. It started in my neck. Then slowly dripped down through my chest, itching to escape through my wound but failing as if it had been sealed shut. It flowed down my torso, into my arms, through my fingertips, an external energy that climbed through my bones like magic jolting through the hands of a mage. It was… ecstasy. Sound returned at once, an overwhelming echo of every footstep within the castle I would have called my tomb. Hearts beating, shaking breaths released then gathered again, creaking floorboards that hadn’t been there before, even the slightest raindrop outside pierced my ear drums like a symphony that shook my very being… Until a voice speaks to me and I open my eyes.

“Neiana. Look at me.”

It’s bright. The chandelier is on the floor and the stench of blood is strong even though none is visible. Once my eyes adjust, I see the mercenaries surrounding me. A whispering voice forces me to face forward, directly into the eyes of my savior.

Augustine.

He was different from the others. Augustine wasn’t a mere mercenary. He was a noble. He had joined the mercenaries on their hunt for Dahlia after she attacked his Fiancee. I did not believe him at first. I didn’t believe anything that any of them said about my sister. But now, I sit here, upright and alive. I want to scream, ask how I am here, how the infinite darkness somehow became finite. I tried to question my state of existence as words contrasting my thoughts escaped through chapped lips;

“Dahlia is dead, isn’t she?”

A nod of confirmation.

Words spoken that I cannot comprehend.

Was he always this pale?

The world fades out as my focus moves from his red eyes to his lips.

They are bloody.

And his teeth are sharp.

[lizzemeavisualnovels]

All Things Visual Novels

A collection of links to current, interesting visual novel related stuff and information from around the web, for adults interested in the medium

Current features: Visual Novel OST Song Recommendation, Visual Novel Recommendation, Upcoming Game Jams, Visual Novel Fanart, Reviews, Ebay Finds, and Visual Novels On A Budget

✨Today's Visual Novel OST Song is Clear from My Merry May, by Takeshi Abo

✨Today's Visual Novel Recommendation is: Our Cinderella

"Our Cinderella is a winter fairy tale themed stat management sim / texting sim created for the Once Upon a Time and Winter VN jams. Help Iggy make it to the party and find love with one of his childhood friends!" art and quote from the itch.io page

This free visual novel was an absolute joy to play, with very funny&witty dialogue. Each character felt alive with their varied vocabularies and various texting styles. I chose to romance Orlam and the whole ride was fun, romantic and in the end quite sweet. It's not very difficult, I beat it on my first try. Highly recommend for anyone who wants a short funny romance that relies on wit, with zero needless fanservice.

Upcoming Itch.io Game Jams 🎮

For visual novel developers, these jams accept visual novels

Otome Jam 2024 (for making Otome Games) Starts April 30th, 1 month duration

Josei Jam 2024 (for making games aimed towards woman) Starts April 30th, 1 month duration

Preggo Game Jam #2 (for making pregnancy themed games) Starts May 1st, 3 weeks duration

Cyberpunk Game Jam (for making cyberpunk games) Starts April 26th, 9 days duration

Wierd game jam except it's spring🌷🌸🌹🌺 (for making weird games) Starts April 26th, 4 days duration

Visual Novel Fanart From Around The Web 🎨

Found or made some fanart relating to the medium? feel free to message me on tumblr with the link! I'd love to see it

Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes from Ace Attorney Dual Destinies as drawn by ichi2co

Various Drawings of Luke Atmey with other characters from Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney − Trials and Tribulations drawn by ryu1

Hoshino Yumei from Planetarian as drawn by ふにまる

"Enter The Void" An art of Monika from Doki Doki Literature Club by Shirakawa Shuu

Amane from If My Heart Had Wings as drawn by redhoodedicosahedron

VN Reviews ✏️

disclaimer: I have not always read the following visual novels myself

Utakata no Uchronia (泡沫のユークロニア) reviewed by orenjipekolatte

If My Heart Had Wings reviewed by Andrew Barker

The Coffin of Andy and Leyley reviewed by LewdNekoNya

Too Many Santas! reviewed by William Worrall

Upcoming Visual Novels 🆕

Visual Novels currently in development

Love Can Only Go Up: A Visual Novel About Stock Market: Romance whilst navigating the stock market. Partly funded, ends May 5th

Without a Voice: Blooming Edition: Kickstarter for Physical copies of the pay-what-you-want yuri horror visual novel Without a Voice. Fully funded including stretch goals, ends May 5th

Save The Villainess: Guide a romance novel villainess, and try to save her from being murdered. Kickstarter upcoming

Ebay Finds 💸

Visual novels and merch currently on ebay

Phantom of Inferno JP Visual Novel DVD Port

Clannad Sony PlayStation 2 PS2 JP Best Version Sealed New WATA 9.6 A+ Graded

Full Metal Daemon Muramasa Collector's Edition English JASTUSA Nitroplus Opened

Rewrite Limited Edition Japanese Import PC Visual Novel Key Windows JP US Seller

Fate Stay Night Limited Edition Game Windows PC TYPE MOON Japan

Yoake Mae Yori Ruriiro Na Feena Fam Earthlight 15th anniversary 1/7 PVC Figure

Visual Novels on a Budget 💰

Current sales and free games

For 8 bucks USD, The Itch.io Palestinian Relief Bundle ends in about 12 days and features 373 games, some of which are visual novels

Wanna play the og tsukihime? A fan has ported it to the web

The GOG visual novel sale has 2 days remaining including noteworthy titles "Please Be Happy" (15.99 USD), "Higurashi", "Long Live The Queen" (2.49 USD) and the point and click game "Wallace & Gromit's Grand Adventures" (2.99 USD)

The Asenheim Project aims to emulate several old pixelated Visual Novels in browser with javascript (NSFW)

The game jam Nanoreno 2024 has recently ended, resulting in several new, free to play short visual novels

Emily is Away <3 is currently $1.99 USD on steam until April 29th

Itch.io has several free visual novels available to browse through, including Contract Demon and Doki Doki Literature Club

And that's all folks! ✨

I hope this was informative! Wanna see more? Got any ideas? Let me know, and feel free to message me with any art, announcements, sales, reviews, or any links at all relating to the medium of visual novels

[starres-stuff]

Day 17: Sally FFXIV Write 2024

Sally: a sudden charge out of a besieged place against the enemy; a sortie.

“How did you shatter your shoulder anyways, I don't think you ever told me that tale. Did you spin too hard and fall off a stage while practicing?” 

Vi closed her eyes and let out a soft huff. She had brought Dimitri to the Archer's Guild practice range to try and accomplish two things at once; the unfortunate part of her rigorous schedule. What she thought would happen was he would sit studiously nearby and watch arrows fly from the various booths that made up the range. When she extended the offer it was the perfect way to spend time with her twin and get a bit of practice in to try and strengthen her arm. 

“There are things that others, including my husbands, do not know about me, brother.” It was the simplest answer she could give without telling him anything more, the concept of keeping her past where it was, was always her preference unless she had a meeting with Father Ashax that day. 

“Were you some kind of Ishgardian Spy in the War?” Dimitri had read too many books. This was a very true thing, in his mind as he thought about it, he found himself marveling over all the things she could have been that she didn't want to talk about. 

“She was a mighty fine Bounty Hunter is what she was.” The voice came out of nowhere, and the scowl on Vi's face appeared instantly, she was about to regret this choice even more, it seemed. 

“Ellie,” she said in a near-cold tone, turning her head to stare at the woman as she approached with that natural shit-eating grin of hers locked on her face. “Meet my twin, Dimitri.” a hand waved to the man who looked like he was about to burst from excitement. 

“A Bounty Hunter? My Sister? Miss freeze it in ice and walk away? Surely you jest? I cannot picture hunting someone or something for that matter.” A fair bit of mirth was detectable in his voice by now and his eyes darted between the two to capture each detail he could. 

“Ellie, I would--” There was no chance to get a word in edgewise, now. Animated fed animated and soon the tale was being spun as if she wasn't even there. 

“Before her accident, your sister was a hells of a fighter. When we first met her she went by Myseri. Said it was her Pa’s nickname for her. Something to do with her name being Seriphinia. If I remember right.” 

“Middle name” The Sharlayan raised an eyebrow at his Sister, this was already a side of her he had not been expecting. “But do go on.” Vi just groaned and turned her attention to the hay bales with the targets pinned to them, accepting there was no way to stop this.” 

“We had gone to Corethas, tracking down this Voidsent that had been attacking the Beast Tribes and some of the denizens of the Deepwoods. It was cold as Halone's smile that day, damn Blizzard had rolled in while we were on rest, slowed us down more than I care to admit to, but eventually we came upon this Manor House that was under siege by this crazed Void Mage and his Voidsent army. We had hidden in the interior of one of the other Manor Houses that had been ripped apart during the Calamity and used it as a shield from the attacks. Fire and Void Magic were flying in each direction when yer Sister caught sight of our mark lumbering towards a cave at the back of the Manor’s property.” Ellie stopped to breathe then and also leaned over to poke her old friend in the side to break her concentration on the shot she had been aiming for a while now. Thankfully Vi had tuned them out so well that she hardly noticed the poke. 

“So she was a Superhero like the comic you see in the one gil books!” It was remarkable how excited Dimitri was over a simple story. This Vi noticed despite her aim and she inwardly groaned at the nonsense that she heard from behind her. 

“Next thing we know this feisty little thing you call Sister, darts out of our hiding spot and right into enemy territory she goes. I still don't know how they didn't see her or any of us for that matter, as we took off running after her, found ourselves in this ice cave a couple of clicks off from where the larger fight and here was your sister with a fire arrow trained right on the bastard's lone eye, right in the middle of his forehead. Right as the attack started, she let the shot go, nicked the ugly bastard's eye, and sent it right after her. Next thing we know he's got her off the ground, some kind of void telepathy and he threw her right into the cave wall like she was nothing more than a doll! We thought she was a goner for sure, especially after we heard the bones cracking and saw her slide down the wall when he let go of her we eventually killed it, was a hells of a fight that's for sure. Then we got her a healer to care for her wounds.” 

Dimitri stood up and clapped, the sound so loud that it echoed through the small area, thankfully no one else was in earshot. “Twelve be damned, my Sister once knew how to fight. Who would have believed that.” The snark in his voice was ever so noticeable, the fact she had never spoken of any of this resting heavy on him at the moment to the point it made him irritable to even think she would hide such a great definition of who she was. 

“Done now?” Vi asked nonchalantly as she pulled another arrow from the quiver and knocked it against the bowstring. She really did hate these stories, something she kept to herself because she wanted them forgotten.

“Well, there was that one time.” Ellie started to say, another story bubbling on her lips but she found herself staring down the shaft of an arrow and she let out a peal of laughter that rolled on in an echo; even after she had fallen silent. 

[fetznerdeathrecords]

...in Viscero - Italia violenta

Death Metal from Hungary

...in Viscero's goal is to evoke the great moments of Italian cinema between the 60s and 90s. The era when filmmaking was more human, creative and forward-looking, when the void created by financial gaps was filled with human creativity which created masterpieces that are now inscribed in gold in the eternal pantheon of universal cinematography. The seven films evoked by the album's songs tell tales about demons, zombies, witches and the darkest side of the human mind. After listening to the album, watching these films is not only necessary, but mandatory!

1. Incubo sulla città contaminata 03:49 2. Demoni 03:39 3. Zombi 2 04:44 4. Signor Frizzi 02:00 5. Buio Omega 03:53 6. Dellamorte dellamore 04:43 7. E tu vivrai nel terrore! L'aldilà 03:59 8. Suspiria 04:01

Release date: September 1st, 2024 via @pest.records & #metalördierecords

[doomedandstoned]

MAMMOTH CARAVAN Perform Single ‘Siege in the Stars’ in The Anvil Sessions

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

As the rapid evolution of technology takes its grip on every aspect of our existence, monitoring our lives, tracking our whereabouts, and yes listening to our conversations, MAMMOTH CARAVAN reminds us of a more primitive time, when the essence of survival was scraping by and worrying about the fundamentals of existence. Yet even in the world of the woolly mammoth, strange things can happen.

On a recent episode of The Doomed & Stoned Show, we speculated what a mammoth in outer space would entail, drawing implications from the cryptic name of Italian band UFOMammut.

Now Little Rock, Arkansas trio Brandon Ringo (harsh vox, bass), Robert Warner (clean singing, guitar, synth), and Khetner Howton (drums) answers our questions with the second single from their upcoming record, 'Frostbitten Galaxy' (2024), which sees this Mammoth Caravan heading toward the stars, as is now the ambition of humankind.

Fontman Ringo had this to reveal about the song:

“Siege in the Stars" is the first song that was written for the new album and it was conceived during a time when we had just changed our lineup and had 10 days to create a setlist of new material. Robert came up with the riffs and I started working on lyrics and once Khetner wrote his drums parts, the song became something massive and special. Lyrically the song represents the bloodthirsty mammoth king’s journey through space on his way to achieve his violent quest.

The atmosphere begins with swarthy bass and guitar swirling about like a bowl of incense, perhaps the gaseous precursor to the massive rocket flames that erupt 35 seconds later. "Siege in the Stars" vessel of fury and mad determination, with massive swing and groove 2:01. It's a motif we're happy to see return as the song progresses, this time accompanied by sparks of psychedelic doom guitar emitting from the ship as it jetsons into cold, black space, with massive deep beats that mete out the distance along the way.

Mammathus clan overtakes mars Now we must fly Martians will die Empires of rust Driven to dust Nothing can stop this siege in the stars

"Siege in the Stars" was captured live for The Anvil Sessions by Holy Anvil Recording Co. in Fayetteville and broadcast by KUAF 91.3, showing us that the band can absolutely deliver on their sound. In an age of AI fakes and phonies, Mammoth Caravan is the real deal.

Look for Mammoth Caravan's 'Frostbitten Galaxy' (2024) emerges October 4th on Blade Setter Records on vinyl, CD, cassette, and digital formats (pre-order here). It's a formidable sound and a must for your next playlist with High on Fire, Forming the Void, Ape Vermin, and Black Tusk.

SOME BUZZ

Little Rock doom trio MAMMOTH CARAVAN is set to unleash its second full-length album, Frostbitten Galaxy. With a revamped lineup, a retooled sound, and a violent tale of mammoths in space, the band’s next offering promises to be their heaviest and most diverse material yet.

Frostbitten Galaxy by Mammoth Caravan

Frostbitten Galaxy was recorded and mixed at Wolfman Studios by Jason Tedford, and mastered by Justin Weis at Traxworx. Album art by Tony Koehl.

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