#Purified Fragments

[waterdomemusic]

Purified Fragments XXIV - Brilliant EP - 2024

Review zu Purified Fragments XXIV – Compiliation – Purified Records – 2024 Facts Artist: CHRSTPHR • MI;LAN • Evy JoyCountry of Origin: Ungarn, Niederlande, FrankreichTitle: Purified Fragments XXIVFormat: 6-Track EP, Stream, DownloadGenre: Deep House, Melodic House, Progressive HouseLabel: Purified RecordsRelease Date: 13. September 20246 Tracks • 31m 35s At qobuz available in Hi-res24 Bits /…

[shatterthefragments]

I’m being overdramatic I know, but maybe I’m just meant to be miserable.

(“Well maybe you shouldn’t do these sailing trips if you get so sick after” IM TOO OLD NOW ANYWAY. IM DONE WHETHER I WANT TO BE OR NOT. IVE SPENT A MONTH AT SEA TOTAL NOW. AND I REALLY FUCKING HOPED THAT I WOULDNT GET SICK THIS TIME. and I didn’t the first time (you know when Everyone still was asked to mask and we tested before boarding)) and I booked the rest of the week off to recover. That I have to call in sick for at least a little bit now too. Yeah. That sucks for all of us. Nothing I can do but not die or whatever)

[weownthenitenyc]

Purified Records Presents Purified Fragments XV

Delivering its latest instalment of sonic gems, Purified Records presents its three-track Purified Fragments XV compilation. Consisting of three records that have been making a big impact in recent sets around the globe, this highly anticipated release is out now on all streaming platforms. Opening with a majestic cut by German producer Oovation, Innervisions moves across a captivating…

[temis-de-leon]

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Solomon and Simeon (x gn!reader, separately)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Main Masterlist

CW: spoilers for Simeon's character development in the OG game (I haven't played NB yet).

A/N: brace yourselves for Simeon's part because I still can't write him.

.

Solomon – He will inevitably lose you

From all the things he thought he would miss when he reached immortality, being able to remember his exact age wasn’t one of them; and yet, there was the regret.

He tells himself is not that deep; that reaching the thousands is already an impressive achievement, but lying to himself has its limits.

Maybe, if he hadn’t been so occupied tracking demons of interest and travelling the realms in search of knowledge, he would’ve had the time to keep score and be aware of just how long he had been roaming amongst the rest of his kind.

Maybe, if those who cared for him stayed longer than their perishable bodies allowed, someone would’ve been there to remind him.

And there were only so many burials he could attend before finally throwing the towel and accepting the emotional safety of solely seeking the company of immortals like him.

But then, centuries later, the human exchange program happens and you make him feel like reuniting with an old friend, even if you’ve never met before.

So he listens to experience.

So he remembers all those funerals he’d attended in the past; all those faces lost to time and inevitable death.

You’re way too enticing to ignore and of course, there’s the need to protect the fellow human surrounded by demons (never mind he acts like one too), but he knows how to stay occupied and at a distance, keeping his feelings at bay.

Casual friendship is the limit he willingly stops at.

He knows that if he allows himself to accept and reciprocate your love, the only important number in his life wouldn’t be his age anymore, but the day he’d inevitably lose you forever.

Tears pooled in his eyes as a violent coughing fit made him bend over, lungs pushing themselves up his throat in an attempt to escape from the stench and the toxic effects of the room’s atmosphere.

Ventilation.

He needed to open the windows.

It was like a cloud had entered his laboratory; a dense, humid fog that barely covered the furniture and crushed against the walls like a rot-smelling milky tide.

Still, Solomon wasn’t sure whether his tears were caused by the abnormal air around him or that unpleasant nightmare he just had.

Although he tried not to think about it, especially the heartbroken expression on your face, the scene did nothing more but repeat in his mind. His words and reasoning carried some logic, yet he couldn’t imagine a universe where that would’ve ever happened.

He enjoyed risks and danger but had never been masochist enough to deny himself of your company; on the contrary, the sole idea of spending time with you was usually a strong motivation to finish his work quickly and make some free time in his schedule, so rejecting being your lover was the strangest and unlikeliest idea he could’ve ever had.

Making that damn potion sure was another one.

Ironically, it was supposed to be a gift for you to use with him as a bonding couple activity, a concoction he had been experimenting on for days to use as introspection into your relationship. His original intention was to glimpse into your possible futures and even your alternative pasts, to see which other ways you had fallen in love with each other; not to witness a rejection.

Had that happened, then? In another timeline? Or had that nightmare been a fragment of his sad imagination?

Thankfully, the air inside the laboratory started to purify the moment he opened the window. He felt his thoughts return to rational and realistic as the fresh breeze of the Devildom night hit him right in his face. The fog, icy and moist, slithered around him and past the window into the darkness, dissipating and completely disappearing from his line of sight. However, behind him, the potion was still bubbling and rattling the cauldron, threatening to throw it to the ground.

Was it the measurements? The temperature of the fire? The direction of the stirring?

Trial and error; success didn’t come one’s way by dumb luck.

With a flick of the wrist and a sour scowl, he magically extinguished the overworked flames and threw the dangerous mixture down the drain.

It would be better to leave his experiment alone for a few more days, though. Perhaps even a week. That would be enough time for him to forget the dreadful nightmare, or at least try to do so. Until then, he’d leave the windows open, hoping the scattered fog didn’t affect any unsuspecting creature on the street, and close the laboratory under lock and key.

Solomon would buy you flowers and sweets and each good thing you deserved in life until the day came when he could give you something better.

Trial and error.

Simeon – The consequences could be fatal

You see.

He lived through the cautionary tale, a horrific incident that affected everyone involved, so he is painfully aware of how any potential intimacy between you two could end.

It doesn’t necessarily have to be like that, of course, but he knows that if he gets to love you, he’ll take risks and chances. Everything you could ever need, Simeon would give you, and not even the pearly gates of the Celestial Realm would be enough to stop him.

Lillith’s treason against their home in favour of her human lover would repeat in his hands if the situation required it.

His love runs deep and he knows so from the very first moment he sees you.

Although, at first, there isn’t anything extraordinary about your friendship.

He still appreciates it. It’s a carefree arrangement, for lack of a better word, light and kind in nature, and it helps him ease into the Devildom in a way he didn’t think existed.

You hang out sometimes, mostly because of Luke and his strong angelic need to protect your pure human soul, and you study together every once in a while, but your shared time isn’t enough to spark the flames of romantic attraction.

It’s easier to let you go when you have seven demanding demons trailing behind you like lost puppies; an amusing sight and a welcomed one.

And still, you choose him.

Why?

Is it his gentle demeanour? Or the determination shining underneath? Is it because he’s so different from the brothers, who show no remorse in admitting their darkest desires regarding their love for you?

He feels forced to reject you and he does as such, basking in the reassurance that you’ll both keep your friendship intact.

Don’t be mistaken; he loves you as well, but he doesn’t feel like that love belongs to the angel he used to be.

It was a melodic sound what woke him up, a tune he recognized as a warning coming from his new laptop.

Frowning and groaning in discomfort, Simeon brushed his hair away from his forehead and tried to rub off the imprints left on his skin by the keyboard. The document in front of him was full of random letters and numbers, no wonder a product of his unconsciously moving head, and a message on the screen asked for his authorization to carry out some type of order.

He didn’t quite fully understand what it asked, so, as per your usual requests, he closed the laptop and kept it inside his backpack.

Now at least he had a reason to visit you.

Not like he needed one, but the brothers, especially Lucifer, tended to leave you both alone more frequently if there was.

Thinking about them made the nightmare reappear and remain fresh in his mind, but somehow, surprisingly, it didn’t bother him as much as It should’ve. While the aspect of rejecting you hurt his heart in a special way, he knew he ultimately didn’t do it and chose the better option; but it was everything else what was stopping him from forgetting about it before leaving to see you.

He was changing, wasn’t he? It wasn’t your fault, you were merely an adding factor, but the truth was undeniable.

No longer the angel he used to be and neither a human, there were parts of himself he couldn’t keep ignoring. The darkness within that could compete with a demon’s, Lord Diavolo’s inability to read him as fast as he would anyone else and his willingness to bend the rules he had been taught should you ever need him to.

Lillith’s presence is blurry in his memories after so many years, but he would never be able to fully forget her; how could he ever do that? She fell in love and risked what she had and what she was to preserve it, although it ended in tragedy.

And still, he understood her.

Solomon’s and Luke’s voices reached him from the living room, bringing him back to reality. Besides his slow breathing and an unclosed faucet, the bathroom was otherwise silent. Droplets of water ran down his face like tears, but his eyes were dry and hardened by his thoughts. His reflection in the mirror seemed tired and he dreaded how his actual appearance might look. You would ask about it, no doubt, but what would he answer? He didn’t even know the full truth himself.

Glimpses of self-reflection and fragments of a realistic nightmare weren’t enough to dissipate your worries, so it’d be better for everyone if he kept hiding, at least for the moment.

Sweet actions and sweet words shielded by the honest love he felt for you.

The truth would come out eventually, but, until then, let the nightmares remain a mere fragment of his world-renowned imagination.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @books-and-catears

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: Kenjaku x F!Reader, past Geto Suguru x F!Reader

word count: 3.6k

about: you become kenjaku's captive to ensure that he will not miss his opportunity to fight the strongest after his return from the prison realm. the temptation of being this close to the last remaining earthly fragment of the man you once loved, suguru, proves too much to resist and you give into your desires despite the hole they're bound to leave.

contents: NSFW - MINORS DNI. DARK CONTENT WARNING, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236 AND BEYOND | dubcon, manipulation, violence against reader, asphyxiation, kidnapping | reader is a sorcerer and went to school with geto and they had mutual feelings for one another, mentions of religion and references to god, kenjaku retained some of geto's memories and knows reader through them, reader has breasts and descriptions of vaginal anatomy are given, rough piv sex with little prep, reader is referred to as "girl", major character death (off screen).

notes: i've uh....been going through some things lately LMAO tbh i started this awhile back before thanksgiving but have felt weird about posting it and it very nearly stayed in the "between me and god" folder so i held back but today i said fuck it. if you read, thanks and i hope you enjoy!!!

header art is by jenny holzer and divider is by @/cafekitsune ♡

“The old occupant of this vessel was very fond of you, you know?”

How dare Kenjaku mention Suguru so casually, as if he were a tenant to his own flesh and bone instead of its rightful owner? 

“You know nothing about him,” The words are full of venom, flying from your mouth not unlike the way you spat at the curse user’s face two days prior to now. He chuckled when the fluid hit his cheek, wiping it off without a second thought. “Or me.” 

You felt so guilty for spitting at his face, the face of a man you once believed that you loved, that you wept until you began to dry heave atop the futon mattress in the room that has been designated as yours. It’s the same bed you rest on now, duvet over your knees that are hiked to your chest. It’s a means to protect yourself from any vulnerability but it’s truly no use. If Kenjaku wants to harm you, he will.

He has insisted your accommodations be comfortable since arriving three days ago given you are collateral and not a captive, his own clever wording for the situation, but you’re more than aware that if you were to attempt to escape from the cage that you’d hit the window just as all birds hungry for a taste of freedom do. There are no cuffs, chains, or bars but your freedom is no longer yours. It is a prize to be won pending the defeat of the man standing across from you in the doorway, shoji door open beside him, flowing hair as dark as the midnight sky brushing the backs of his elbows.

For years you wondered what you’d do if faced with Suguru again. Would you strike him, insisting he deserved it for all the hurt left in his wake? Ask him why in a scream so powerful your shoulders would shake with the weight of your fury? Perhaps you’d forgive him, as you’d been taught and encouraged to do your entire life, and those mumbled prayers cast to the God you believe in above you would be true for the first time since they’ve left your treacherous lips. 

“I forgive him, I hope you can, too.” You have begged God aloud and silently since sixteen years old. You have always been devout in your faith despite abandoning most of the tenets that make someone a believer, your lack of devotion not enough to deter you from selfishly asking for absolution for a man who you know deserves none.

God’s answer is clear when faced with the fact that this is not Geto standing in front of you. There is no less mercy a person can be shown than their body being used as a sick prop after their death.

The space where his thoughts and dreams and hopes used to lie is occupied by something far worse than just visions of a world purified through means of violence, a place where people like you could live without the threat of death and sacrifice to keep others safe. Granted, that wasn’t exactly a noble purpose either, but at least it didn’t threaten your life the way that whatever lives inside of his skull does now.

“I know more about both of you than you think.” 

Kenjaku’s words drip with smugness and your stomach flips. The natural responses of your body to a man who looks and sounds just like Suguru make you sick but you cannot focus on fighting them off and keeping yourself protected at the same time, you have to simply make peace with the butterflies in your stomach that feels like something is punching you in the gut over and over again. He dares enter the room and you scoot further up the futon, hitting the wall behind you and leveling a glare in his direction.

Suguru’s body reacts to you, as well, something that Kenjaku planned long ago to use to his advantage. It started with hazy dreams, a face he recognized as yours drifting through them, your thighs and your lips and your skirt. It’s a version of you a little younger, a little warmer - less edgy than you are now. You are sharp and finely tuned to harm while the version of you that lived in Geto’s mind will forever stay soft, a freshly unfurled rose.

“All you’ve done is vandalize him,” you accuse and he shrugs, dressed in a cotton yukata rather than the robes he stole in addition to the body they dressed. It’s easy to imagine another life where this is Suguru and you are you and he’s coming to your shared bedside, kneeling on the ground the same way Kenjaku is now while he invites himself to the only space you currently have as your own.

“You’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.” Your glance moves from the doorway to him, disgusted by how brave he is getting this close to you. “Perhaps I’m simply using the power this body holds in the way he was too cowardly to attempt.”

Despite your current state of sitting in nothing but a yukata yourself, you are physically strong from spending the last decade of your life as nothing more than a glorified weapon to use in the fight against evil. Even if your Cursed Technique would be unlikely to have any effect on the man, you could be a difficult problem for him if you wanted to be, yet you sit and do nothing but wait and refuse to respond to his words. He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches across the bed and your body to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger. He shifts your head until you’re staring directly at him and a smile crosses his lips.

You do not fight him off.

“Tell me, sorcerer,” he starts and you swallow, bottom lip quivering. You want to reach out and slap him away, to scream and kick but your body stays still, the only place blood is pooling between your legs and in the heat of your face. “Where are those teeth and claws you were so eager to show me on your first night here?”

He reaches his thumb upward and presses it against your mouth, stopping the shake with a single touch - your body’s natural reaction to a man you are now certain you loved, given it’s the only explanation for your behavior. It’s a form of trust, the muscle memory of a kiss he gave you in your dorm room at the school you once shared. The first night you were spitting and hissing, now you’re so placid.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Stubbornly, you shake your head and Kenjaku chuckles again, pulling his thumb away from your lip but maintaining the grip on your chin. You know this is not Suguru, it’s as clear as the stitches across the forehead of the practically empty vessel that further closes in on you. He moves silently until he’s mere inches away from you, his head hovering over your knees that are still pulled against your chest. You watch him with narrowed eyes, tucking against yourself tighter than you ever have as a means of comfort, but it does nothing to stop him from lingering.

“I could just make you speak if I wanted to,” he warns. The power in this situation belongs to him.

“What’s the point of fighting you? You’re going to do whatever you want with me anyway.” You admit, defeated. Whatever fight you had left in you was smothered weeks ago during the attack on Shibuya. Even the release of Gojo is not enough to fill you with hope for the future. It’s pointless to keep fighting when the only outcome is going to be loss.

The shaky sound of your voice makes the curse user move closer to you and you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him lest your body continue with these inexplicable natural responses. Heart pounding against your chest, it’s inexplicably frustrating that it cannot seem to separate what your brain knows is true from what your body wants to believe.

It isn’t him, you scream within the confines of your own mind but it does not prevent your palms from feeling clammy and the squeeze of your inner thighs against each other to provide some relief against the heat in your core.

It isn’t him. It isn’t him. It isn’t him…

Chanting the words internally, you open your eyes and are met with a pair of golden ones staring directly at you. They’re the same that stared at you in a dorm room a decade ago although they’re missing the warmth they had back then, dripping honey sweetness hidden in the irises turned to tar. 

“You’re right, I can.” He nods and dark hair falls over his eyes, catching your eye. Your stomach turns when you spot the stitches across his forehead but your gaze returns to his so quickly you can hardly think about it. “But will it be what I want or is it what this body desires, I wonder?”

This piques your interest and Kenjaku tilts his head to the side inquisitively, dark hair sweeping over your knees and around your body. It feels like a curtain, a veil like the ones you are so used to using to keep people safe and ignorant and outside of your world of sorcery.

“What do you mean?”

A smirk is the response you are granted and he moves closer to you, one of his hands reaching for the duvet you’re using to cover you. Pulling it back gently, your robe covered body coming into view and once again, you make no effort to fight. With this barrier removed, he runs his palm over the outside of your thigh. Muffling your whimper at the touch, you attempt to hide your face in your shoulder but he stops you, still grasping onto your chin and still holding your gaze.

“Interesting.” 

His hand travels from the outside of your thigh to the insides and you gently spread them to allow him access before realizing what he’s searching for. Attempting to cut off his access by closing your legs, he holds your thigh in place and lets his fingers dip lower along the soft skin. You quiver and shake beneath him like a leaf clinging to the branches of a tree in winter, desperate for somewhere to remain, and those fingers inch closer and closer to your core. He stops when he feels the coarse hair covering your mound and dares to dip a single fingertip between your folds, raising his eyebrows when he feels the arousal seeping from you. 

“I knew it,” he whispers so low you wonder if you were even meant to hear it but the way he gazes at you, like that of a man starved, tells you that the words were meant for no one but you.

Your hand shakes as much as the rest of you when you finally lift it from your side, reaching out to him and taking a strand of hair between your fingers. It feels just as you imagined it would, silk between your digits, and a breathy sigh leaves you before you begin to cry. Dropping the small strand, you choose to reach out toward his forehead and use your hand to block the stitches covering it.

“Suguru.”

You babble the name like it is precious, your lip quivering just as it did before, and the evil man shakes his head, capturing your wrist with the hand he just removed from your chin. He lowers your hand enough that you can see the stitches unobscured.

“Kenjaku, actually.” 

He lowers your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, amused when you squirm where you sit, practically delirious with lust and confusion. You do not want this, at least that’s what you tell yourself while parting your legs further and panting, chest heaving with every breath.

Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to untie your robe and it falls off of your shoulders, exposing you to him fully before he can blink. This is something he remembers seeing in one of those dreams but you look different than whatever the imagination of a man who was infatuated with you was able to come up with during his loneliest hours. It amuses Kenjaku that he is the one to see you like this, bare and willing. 

Tracing down your belly and lower, he stops between your legs which makes you whimper. You’re so desperate to be touched, to pretend he is someone you’ll never have the opportunity to love as properly as you could have if you’d both lived a different life, that your hips actually arch off of the bed eagerly. It should embarrass you but you are past the point of humiliation, willing to be fucked by evil incarnate just for the sake of a taste of Suguru Geto.

“Pathetic little thing,” he coos and you say nothing in return. You’re well aware of your failings as a sorcerer and a human being as his fingers spread your labia to get a glance at what you have to offer. For a moment, you consider praying for Suguru again; to selfishly beg God to make sense of your own actions but you know that he no longer has mercy for an ill behaved member of his flock. You will simply accept the consequences, whatever they will be.

His thumb brushes your clit and you moan, tipping your head back and toward the ceiling. You wait for the sensation of pleasure to climb through you again but it doesn’t come until you look downward again, eyes fluttering open.

“Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Too afraid to look away lest it keep you from the only good thing you’ve felt in who knows how long, you keep your eyes glued to Kenjaku’s face while his hand works between your legs, spreading the slick from your cunt toward your clit and back down. If you could just shut your eyes, you could pretend, but they’re open and glued between your legs, watching every feathery stroke of his fingers through your folds.

Kenjaku’s cock hardens against your thigh and for a moment you dare to feel powerful knowing you aren’t the only one surrendering to the most base of your needs. He drops your hand and reaches for the tie of his robe, opening it and giving you the only look you’ve ever been lucky enough to get of Suguru’s bare body.

Scarred, honed, a tool - just like yours. If you weren’t so lost in the moment, the lifetimes you have imagined for years would be playing through your mind.

You gasp and knit your brows together, bucking against the increasing pressure of Kenjaku’s fingers while he brings you back to him and out of your head. Whatever you’re thinking about doesn’t matter when he inserts a finger inside of you, only testing how wet you are with no intention of preparing you for his cock. 

When he’s satisfied with how wet you are, he withdraws his finger and you whine. The sound is the most he has heard from you since the first night and it makes his eyes widen in interest. He shifts until he is standing between your spread knees and the realization that this is really happening hits you at once, your face flaming with desire.

“You’re so impatient.” 

The curse user tuts at you with a roll of his eyes and spreads your legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the width of his body. He’s broad in shoulder and hip and you bite your lower lip when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, following the same pattern of his fingers. You expect the teasing to last longer but it stops abruptly. Before you can take a breath to prepare yourself, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp with wide eyes, shocked. 

“As good as you imagined?”

Words come to your mind but do not form enough to leave your mouth while he thrusts roughly, your body jerking violently against his. It’s painful, the size of him with little prep in conjunction with how he uses your body as nothing more than a glorified place to take his aggression out, but all of the numbness within you thaws and for the first time since you realized Geto was no longer Geto in Shibuya, you feel. 

It’s hard to name all the emotions you are experiencing because they blur into something barely comprehensible. Pleasure and pain and bone chilling sorrow, the kind that makes tears silently drip down your face while he takes what he wants from you. He doesn’t bother to play with your clit and there is no need to, the joy you’re taking simply from being used by Suguru’s body enough that the knot inside of you is slowly beginning to unravel. 

Skin on skin punctuated by his low grunts and your whines fill the small room and you are so lost, you lift yourself halfway up to meet Kenjaku and consider kissing him. Would it be close enough to kissing Suguru that you could eventually justify it or would it just sully the one good memory you have of him? 

You don’t have long to think about it before you are pushed back down to the bed, one of his hands caging your throat and keeping you pinned to the bed below. A reminder that this is for his pleasure and not yours although you feel yourself coming closer to the edge than you were just moments prior, shutting your eyes tightly. All of the motion inside of you stops, the hard thrusts of his cock ending, and your eyes shoot open.

“Remember what I said. Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Nodding, you keep them open and he begins again, pace rougher than before. You can do nothing but grunt and struggle to breathe, his cock carving out space inside of you that didn’t exist until he entered you. Every kiss of his tip against your insides knocks the breath out of you and finally you cum in a strangled moan, walls quivering around his length. 

His hand inches further up your throat and squeezes experimentally. As expected, you do not fight back and he takes his indulgence with a grin, choking you with varying degrees of pressure and feeling your cunt spasm around him when he surprises you by tightening his grip. 

You like this. You want this.

He leans forward and shifts his weight to his arm and hand, finally spilling inside of you with a deep moan. Warmth fills every inch of you and you wish that you felt as full in your heart as you do in your cunt but a void remains.

Kenjaku’s other hand slides up your body and wraps around your neck, both of his palms resting on either side of your neck and fingers splaying over your throat. It’s dangerous to let him have this much access to any part of you that he could possibly crush but you do not move, tearfully looking up at him and sniffling. He increases his pressure, not enough to harm you, but enough to make you work hard and you realize how easily he could just…end this.

“Please kill me,” you beg while struggling to breathe, realizing what you’ve done now that the afterglow of orgasm can no longer protect you from the cold hard truth. 

You are a betrayer. You slept with the enemy to sate your own selfish desires and death seems almost too kind to beg for, yet you do.

“Kill me.”

Your face turns in shade and your vision is dotted with darkness, a miserable end to a miserable life you consider, but at least it will be over. The pressure of Kenjaku’s hands around your neck continues to increase until you are certain you are taking your last breath, lungs aching until he abruptly stops. He glances down from where he rests above you, half swollen cock softening and letting his cum leak out around the tip of it that is still inside of you and onto the sheets below. 

“I will not give you the satisfaction of death until you give me the satisfaction of watching you fight for it.” 

Removing his hands from around your throat completely, he glances down at the pressure indentions of his fingers with a smile. Your eyes flutter shut, you’ve passed out from lack of air, and he admires the heap he has left you in, reaching for your robe and wiping the remnants of his release and yours on the corner of it.

Nobody is coming to save you, a secret Kenjaku knows that you are not yet aware of. Satoru Gojo is dead, defeated at the hands of Sukuna. The news broke this morning and he was preparing to come to your room to let you know until this little distraction occurred. He had an inkling you were susceptible to Suguru Geto’s charms even from beyond the grave but he had no idea it would be this easy, your slumped form resting on the futon beside him. He pats your head as one would a treasured dog, long and loving strokes that do not stir you, your bare breasts swaying slightly with every breath you take.

The new world is on the horizon and he may keep you around as a plaything for a little longer than he originally intended.

[cosycafune]

DON’T YOU SEE?

you’re scared, terrified. no matter where you go, ryomen sukuna’s always capable of finding you. you curl, hiding within every corner — but he discovers every limb of you. you long to run, but outrunning someone so powerful refrains from doing you any wonders. don’t you see? why won’t you see?

royalty sukuna x cursed user y/n. book acts: eventually smut, ptsd, terror, abuse, violence, murder, hysteria, breakdowns, distraction and more.

this is simply a small teaser. epilogue: fate’s fool. chapter 0.5.

Thunder etches upon your tainted environment. Your limbs are quivering with shock, dazed and heavy with blasphemous sins. There’s not a fragment of purity that reigns upon you, all of that is stored within the perished body at your nude feet.

Everything’s an ample, twisted sick mess — in the way your eyes exhibit fear, confusion and unshakable distraught. Nothing’s bound to measure up anymore, as you’re left with the choice of eternal punishment or a swift death.

You’ve slaughtered Lord Sukuna’s favourite royal advisor, all because he’s fingers longed to grasp upon you. You, someone who Lord Sukuna deemed as an innocent, untouchable muse — bound to be protected until the end of time lays.

However, you’re tarnished. Your ivory dress’ smeared with anchors of the wailing dead man’s blood. The blood’s taunting your haphazourdly self, glancing down at him — your fingers licked upon with fear for the first time.

Desperately, your eyes are abnormally wide — deathly hope flooding your pounding ears. All you could process is the light wisps of sound, the laughing thunder and the sound of your creeping demise.

Every sick act’s fated to fall in place, but you’re not fate’s fool today.

“Lord Sukuna’s going to murder me, the person he says is the face of innocence,” Frowning, flinching at the intensifying thunder, you mindlessly whisper.

“I was supposed to be his wife, freed of any sins for him,” Silently shrieking, impatient at the lifeless dead body, your heart swirls as your hoarse words fall.

“But now, the end of my reign is here,” Speaking with determined anger, you harshly kick Sukuna’s advisor’s defenseless body — your anger ruling the submissive thunder.

Unwilling to fathom your image being tainted by the sin of man, you continue to kick the man. Kick him for attempting to steal away your innocence, longing to romance you — only to threaten you with planned death.

The young man was keen on you being his own, accustoming to his unknown home and becoming his wife. Becoming a labour machine, delivering his children and raising them until they’re capable of individualism. Not once did you long to mould into his unworthy standard, you’re more than that.

You were.

“I fucking hate you, you greedy pig,” Stirred with disdain, you glance down at your bloody nightgown with a grin — feeling an ounce of sickly freedom.

“I’ve got to leave now or Lord Sukuna’s going to punish me, making me his eternal servant,” Fearful of the idea, you glance at the cooling thunder — looking outside towards the escapable garden.

After all, Sukuna gifted you the second best room — in hopes you one day become his betrothal. A betrothal he was bound to elope when you both turn twenty-one, but you had to leave now. There’s no future in a place that would discriminate against you, shunning you from the purified eternity that once longed for you to cosy in its parted arms.

“If I pretend to have died, too, Sukuna’ll find someone else,” Mumbling with levelheadedness, you search your room for your savings — picking out a stupidly large amount of money and a black clock.

A red clock, just so you could pair with the cloudiness of your untamed sin. A sin you have to coddle because of the greediness of someone else’s heart.

Out the balcony door you go, fleeing from an environment that once caged you within the best ways. Yet, now, you’re set to flee towards a secret cottage you built — away from everything you’ve ever known.

All you pray for is for Sukuna to not find you.

—

Don’t you see? Prologue status: completed.

—

Don’t copy, modify or claim my work to be your own. all rights reserved: cosycafune. 2024.

[hellsite-proteins]

Article Review

Okay, I know this isn't what I usually do on here, but I found this amazing article that fits with the theme of this blog so well, and I just had to share and talk about it! it's free to read here:

if you don't want to read the whole thing, i did my best to summarize it here. if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and i'll fix them!

researchers created random protein sequences to study. these were 100 residues long (or 109 with the inclusion of an N-terminal Met and a C-terminal 6His tag) and were made by either sampling different fragments of natural proteins from databases or by combining letters at random. this is not the same as using words, since in this study each letter was chosen independently, and the likelihood of choosing a letter matched the amino acid's relative frequency, but its still a neat comparison to this blog. they elaborate on this more in the methods section for anyone interested!

proteins in their generated library were analyzed using various algorithms to predict the occurrence of alpha helices and beta sheets. they were then sorted by relative disorder and secondary structure content. interestingly, the amount of secondary structure formation was not much lower for random proteins compared to those taken from pieces of databases. the three groups going forward were ordered, disordered, and a random sample.

next, they recombinantly expressed the selected proteins in E. coli and purified them for further analysis. I won't get into the specific assays, but overall they found that the more ordered proteins were more prone to aggregation and oligomerization, while the disordered protein were more likely to be expressed and soluble! following sequence analysis, they also determined that the disordered proteins did tend to deviate from the expected amino acid frequencies, which likely explains their increased level of disorder. because of all this, the less ordered random proteins are likely better suited for future evolution towards some function.

tldr: random proteins can form secondary structures and be expressed in vivo. interestingly, while the more structured newly created proteins were shown to clump together (which is Not Good!) in cells, disordered proteins did not and were actually well tolerated.

given all of that, i think i may have been a bit harsh towards some of the uglier looking structures on here. apparently, we can either have things that look like proteins but cause problems, or we can have ugly messes that are pretty chill for the most part. it still feels incredibly unintuitive to have more trust in the low confidence unstructured sequences, but this new information is still good and interesting to have!

[brittle-doughie]

(Ask #3. Sorry if you've actually been getting these but I'm just shooting into the dark here, don't know if Tumblr's been eating them) I had this idea for a corrupted ancient Y/N Cookie What if instead of coming from a sixth beast, Y/N Cookie's soul jam came from extra fragments of power from each of the five beasts? One of the trailers for the Beast Yeast update stated that only the purest, most untainted vestiges of the beasts' power became the five soul jams, and that was after purifying them. What if Y/N's soul jam was a sort of "test run" to see if the rest of the beasts' power could be recycled? The witches take fragments from each of the five beasts, vestiges of their power still very impure and swamped with darkness and mix them together to create a sixth soul jam! Unfortunately, the shadows of the beasts' corrupted virtues cannot be easily purified. No matter how much the witches purified this sixth soul jam, traces of darkness still lingered like a stain that just won't come out. The witches ultimately deem the project as a failure; but by some unknown means, this "odd" soul jam still finds its way onto Earthbread to be found by Y/N Cookie Initially ancient Y/N Cookie is as friendly and affable to their friends as they normally would be, albeit a bit more strained from having to resist the occasional temptation from the lingering darkness within their soul jam. The corruption of the beasts is trying to slowly whittle down Y/N Cookie's mental resistances and make them succumb to shadow like the beasts before. Despite all this, Y/N Cookie holds strong and remains a good ruler and good friend.

That is... until the Beast Yeast expedition is underway. The fight with Shadow Milk Cookie seemed to start a series of events where each beast will awaken and attempt to regain their soul jam from their respective ancient cookie. Each beast uses their connection to their ancient cookie to torment them. Shadow Milk used his connection to the light of truth to cloud Pure Vanilla's judgment and effectively blind him, while Mystic Flour used her connection to Dark Cacao to cause the shaking and the hesitancy. What do all five beasts have in common? Some of their power belongs to Y/N Cookie and thus have a connection to them.

Even if Y/N Cookie has no part of the expedition, even if it was just another day of ruling the Cookie Kingdom while it all went down in the background, the beasts will awaken and reassert themselves on Y/N Cookie. The temptations will be back, worse than ever before. The confusion and deception, the shaking and hesitancy, whatever else the beasts might have in store, it will ALL hit Y/N Cookie like a sack of sugar bricks. There might be a brief moment of resistance from Y/N, but with their mental capacities worn over the years the beasts will finally take hold over Y/N. With Y/N Cookie corrupted, the Cookie Kingdom has been compromised and all hell breaks loose. Y/N Cookie's fellow ancients won't even know until Gingerbrave comes bearing urgent news to one of them: Something very wrong has happened to the Cookie Kingdom, and to Y/N Cookie

(Sorry for the long read, and again sorry if you've already got this ask)

It would be a mental tug of war between the two groups. That impure and corrupted side of your psyche, that’s receiving the calls from the Beasts.

But there’s also the side of your mind that wants to stay true to your virtue and stick to the light, the Ancient Heroes. Test runs don’t always end with the results you might expect, positively or negatively.

[satoshi-mochida]

ENDER LILIES: Quietus of the Knights sequel ENDER MAGNOLIA: Bloom in the Mist announced for Switch

From Gematsu

Publisher Binary Haze Interactive and developers Live Wire and Adglobe have announced ENDER LILIES: Quietus of the Knights sequel ENDER MAGNOLIA: Bloom in the Mist for Switch. It will launch in 2024. It will support English, Japanese French, German, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian, Simplified Chinese, Traditional Chinese, and Korean language options.

“We teased a sequel to ENDER LILIES: Quietus of the Knights nearly two years ago, and we have received countless requests from our online community for a second adventure,” said Binary Haze Interactive CEO Hiroyuki Kobayashi in a press release. “It is an honor and a pleasure to announce our next title with the help of Nintendo during such a prestigious event. We have much much to share in the very near future, stay tuned!”

Here is an overview of the game, via Binary Haze Interactive:

Decades after the Rain of Death, a new journey begins in the Land of Fumes, where mystical powers lie beneath the earth. The kingdom’s desire for conquest led to the creation of the Homunculi, machine-like artificial life forms prepared to execute the king’s will. A recent resource-harvesting mission gone awry caused toxic vapors to emerge from underground, driving both man and machine to feral madness. As the Homonculi devolve into dangerous creatures, guide Lilac—an “Attuner” with the power to purify those infected by the fumes—on a quest to save the kingdom. With the help of friendly machines and spirits who fight in Lilac’s stead, fend off mechanized legions of lunging carcasses, cannonball-firing corpses and chainsaw-wielding goblins terrorizing the land. Turn foes into friends by exorcizing corruption from enemy bosses. Wield their powers to add 30 different abilities to Lilac‘s combat repertoire in an enhanced battle system where she can equip up to four special abilities at once. Improve Lilac’s odds of surviving this hunt for lost memories by leveling up attack strength, HP, and armor. Explore the depths, heights and far corners of the kingdom for lore-filled relics. Collect and trade gold for upgraded items at the Blacksmith’s storefront. Combine story fragments from the kingdom’s fleeing inhabitants with Lilac’s forgotten memories. Seek the truth in an atmospheric hand-drawn setting set to the soothing serenades of returning musical group Mili (Ghost in the Shell, Goblin Slayer) with a brand new original soundtrack available for purchase at launch.

More information will be announced on February 26 at 7:00 a.m. PT / 10:00 a.m. ET via the game’s official website.

Watch the announcement trailer below. View the first screenshots at the gallery.

Announce Trailer

Japanese

[erosathelstan]

Spoilers for DATV.

Don't read until you've finished it please.

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As a Solasmancer, I don't think playing Veilguard is as rewarding for non-Solas appreciators as it is for us. Like, sure. You could absolutely go fuck Solas up in the ending, but what of the life lived before Veilguard? What of Inquisition's other companions? If you romance anyone other than Solas, I feel like those supposedly meaningful and driving connections are sidelined. What of a Hawke or Alistair trapped in the Fade? Not even a single mention of them, or a remembrance.

I get that we are facing powers never before seen in the world of Thedas, and that miniscule moments may be overlooked in the grander scheme of two fucking blighted gods escaping their prison but holy fucking shit, I would want to know what happened to other characters I have grown to care about! They made Morrigan's fate matter in Inquisition, to a degree - why can't it matter now? Especially when Kieran, a LITERAL PURIFIED FRAGMENT OF A CORRUPT ANCIENT GOD, may exist? That could've and should've meant something! Even the origins of the blighted lyrium idol did not feel as substantial as it should have!

And the Titans! Why are they a mere honorable mention apart from Harding's questline after all the set up they'd done in The Descent DLC? The people of Kal-Sharok! I would've loved to have so much more of them, of how they live now despite the Blight and under Valta's protection. Make no mistake - I enjoyed Harding's questline, cried really damn hard about it, but the story of a whole people lost and disconnected to who they once were could've been a much bigger plot point considering that there are two or even three races that share the same story. Modern elves, the dwarves, and the Qunari are such lost people with beautifully tragic histories that I wish were not mere hints, but fully (or at least, partially more) explorable areas in the story. It would've driven the choices regarding what to do with Solas even deeper.

I enjoyed the experience, though. I feel very vindicated with the theories I have long since kept to myself as well as witnessed others discuss within the community. It's just that, despite the rollercoaster ride DATV took me through, I feel like a lot more could've been done for the time it took them to make it. And I wish they'd had the freedom or means to do just that.

Maybe in the next games, they would.

[throneofsapphics]

crucify your lover

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: A frown on your face, you trekked back up the castle, taking a different route. Their eyes would be on you, now that they know. Running is probably the smart thing to do. Run while you can, but … you’ve been running your entire life and you're sick of it. Not this time, you swear to yourself, you won’t run this time. 

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, kinda toxic relationships?

A/N: this has been poking at my brain and I had to get it out, not proofread

You’d give anything for them, and you have - for years and years. But, no matter what you do it never seems to be enough. There’s no way for you to compare to them, and they’ve never said it directly but you hear the whispers of others, the whispers of the court. 

Why her? 

There’s nothing special about her. 

If anyone would pay attention, if anyone bothered to ask, they’d realize you keep secrets for a reason. That some powers are better kept buried deep down where no one can touch them. If … if they knew what you could do, mate or not you couldn’t be certain of their reaction. 

Such little magic, what a pity. 

You seethed with each comment, but kept your emotions perfectly under control. Nobody needed to know, nobody would have to, but the cost of keeping secrets bled your soul. If you could get rid of it - purify yourself of it - you would. 

They had … accepted … you, mainly because the bond wouldn’t let them do anything else. Separating the three of you physically would cause pain. But, you kept those barriers up in your mind, kept yourself so damn far away they never guessed. Maybe it’s ridiculous of you to wish they would. Unconditional love, that’s what mates were supposed to be - according to all of the tales and legends you grew up on. Still, watching your people hunted in front of you would change anyone's view of magic. 

You never knew exactly what your magic was, not until you had a chance to scour the library of Orynth. 

Necromancy. 

The word was so ugly to you, but it fit best. All of the records said it was a magic from ancient witches, but you’re Fae, and it made no damn sense to you. Still, every month under the full moon, you made a trek into the forest. 

The guise was to have peace to connect with your family, and you always made sure you weren’t followed. Your mates respected you enough to let you do that. Instead, you let loose enough of your magic to keep yourself from exploding. You always wondered what it felt like to others, to you it was the whispers of the trees around you, a warm embrace circling you, the thoughts of the dead brought to life in fragments. You let the magic whirl around you, circling you and letting them tell you their secrets, their confessionals. Blessed by the God of Truth. Your mother said once, before her death. You still hadn’t decided if it was a blessing or a curse. 

-

Something was off with you, Rowan knew that. He’d tried to track you the first few times you left on the full moons, out to hell knows where, but you always slipped his trail. This time, you seemed distracted and something told him to follow, the wind whispered where to find you, where to perch. You didn’t notice a white-tailed hawk in a tree several feet away, and a shield of wind hit his scent. 

He watched as you sat down on the log, stretching your legs out in front of you, and gray whispers of … of magic flowed around you in circles. 

Beautiful, it was absolutely beautiful. Your eyes closed, palms resting face up, your head tilted back with the moonlight casting a clear vision of your face - how your eyelashes fluttered against your cheek, the lines of your jaw, your hair loose and flowing around your shoulders. 

His first emotion was fear - fear that you’d been coming out here every single month alone, and in a vulnerable state. Anyone could get to you like this, and he doesn’t know how your magic works - if it could defend you or if you knew how to use it. 

Second, came disbelief. How the hell had you hid your magic from them both for so long? Over a year. As far as he knew you were only able to shield yourself, albeit weakly - the typical traits of Fae. Then - why had you hidden your magic from them? As he watched, as he sensed the type of power flowing from you, he understood exactly why. Still, he was hurt that you couldn’t trust him or Aelin enough to tell them about it. He wondered if you’ve told anyone, if anyone living knows. Gods, Maeve had him hunt down magic-wielders like you in the past. The secrets of the dead were meant to stay dead. 

Rowan waited long enough to know you were safe, and headed back towards the castle before taking off. He needed to get to Aelin, to tell her as soon as possible. Even if she would bitch at him for interrupting her sleep. 

-

“You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.” Aelin’s eyes were wide in shock. Rowan glared at her, crossing his arms. “How could she keep it from us, from you?” She couldn’t help the accusatory tone, her mate was known for sniffing out secrets after all. The fact that you’ve been able to keep this from them for so long is impressive and terrifying. 

“I don’t know.” He said through gritted teeth. Aelin felt the rollercoaster of emotions going through him - fear, anger, concern, and disbelief. It hadn’t had a chance to set in for her. 

“What do we do about it?” She sighed, collapsing back on the couch. “You won’t be able to keep it to yourself,” she raised one brow, but he didn’t deny it. 

“We have to tell her we know.” His lips pressed into a tight line. 

“How do you think she’ll react?” Aelin questioned. 

“If I was her,” he hedged, “I’d run as far as possible.” 

Aelin’s heart broke slightly, and his gaze softened. “Think about it,” he murmured, taking a seat next to her. “Magic wielders like her have been hunted for centuries.” 

“We wouldn’t do that,” Aelin snapped. 

“I know,” he soothed, running one hand down her thigh. 

“What do you think happened to her family?” The thought popped into Aelin’s head. She knew they were dead, and assumed they likely were killed with several other Fae when Adarlan invaded. 

Rowan stiffened next to her, and her gaze snapped to him. His eyes had gone slightly distant, as if he were putting something together. Is it … he said they’ve been hunted for centuries… could Maeve have sent him to do that?

“That’s a question to ask her,” his voice was rough and heavy with emotion. Aelin knew when to push and when to leave it, and for now this is something she would leave alone. For now. Mates are equals, she’s always been told, and if that’s true … that means you’ve been hiding an immense power for a long time. No wonder you disappear every full moon. That or risk yourself exploding. She wants to think she’d take the high and mighty road if she were you, if she had been in your situation, but she’s not certain. The thought makes her uneasy, more than she wants to admit. 

-

You could tell something was off as soon as you returned. Rowan and Aelin were different, they’d eyed you warily - although they hid their emotions well enough. Anyone who wasn’t bonded as closely to them would never notice the difference. 

By that evening, it filled you with enough dread that you did something risky and potentially stupid. Carefully watching your tail, double and triple checking for anyone following you, you made your way to the lowest levels of the castle.

A tiny bit of magic flowed from you, discreet enough nobody should notice the shift in the air, and just enough to focus communication - communicate with someone who could give you an answer. 

They know. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t. Vaguely like Aedion, the General’s. 

What will they do? You focused on keeping the connection, nearly pleading with the soul or spirit for help. 

They won’t kill you. That was not comforting, at all. They will want to speak of it, the rest is up to you. 

You thanked them, probably him, for his time, and groaned. Not kill you, speak of it, and the rest is up to you. At least you’ve ruled out your death. A frown on your face, you trekked back up the castle, taking a different route. Their eyes would be on you, now that they know. Running is probably the smart thing to do. Run while you can, but … you’ve been running your entire life and you're sick of it. Not this time, you swear to yourself, you won’t run this time. 

-

“You know,” you said mildly over dinner, slicing unnecessary harshly through a potato, your knuckles white and clenched around the potential weapon. Rowan blinked in surprise, and Aelin’s eyebrows rose. They hadn’t expected you to say anything about it, then. “What is it, now that you know my dirty secret?” A slightly wicked grin crossed your face and you tilted your head, daring them to reply. 

For once, they both seemed speechless. You saw how they communicated with each other, slightly glazed eyes. Rude, but you wouldn’t comment on it for now. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Aelin finally asked. An absolutely pointless question based on the look on her face. 

“You know why.” You set the knife and fork down, wringing your hands together under the table to try and release some of the tension building in you. 

“You let everyone say horrible things about you.” She said quietly. 

That struck something deep inside you. They know about what others say, and considering the ones who say it still run their mouths and repeat the same rhetoric even a year later … your mother always told you silence is agreement. All of a sudden, you didn’t give a damn about your magic, about what might happen to you because of it, instead you felt a sense of betrayal. The people who should love you, who should protect you - act on the same instincts you did, let that happen. Crucified. A part of your soul died, withered away, and you kept a very tight lid on your magic. 

“You let them.” You responded, unable to keep the slight bit of venom from your voice. Neither of them bothered to reply to that, and your temper flared further. It was taking everything inside of you to keep your cool. 

“You lied about your magic.” Rowan countered instead. 

You scoffed, “of course I did - you know what happens to people like me.” 

This time, Aelin’s knuckles went white where they gripped the table. “Not here.” She said through gritted teeth, and you grimaced. 

“Not in Terrasen,” you acquiesced. Aelin’s grip loosened slightly. Rowan was still stiff as a board, his posture rigid and stoic, not an emotion or thought given away - he doesn’t want to say how he feels about the situation. That told you enough. You wanted to say it shouldn’t change anything, but it does, it changes absolutely every damn thing. 

Aelin threw her head back with a groan. “This is a mess.” 

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and some of the tension in the room left, as if she’d snapped it with a sharp knife. 

“We’ll,” Rowan cleared his throat. “We’ll keep you safe, whatever it takes.” Your entire body froze, eyes widening. You’d deny it but small tears had pricked at the corner. The sight of those softened Rowan’s gaze, his body loosening slightly. “Did you think we wouldn’t?” He asked quietly. 

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “very few alive know.” 

Rowan immediately grilled you for the names of the people who do know, and you answered, albeit a bit reluctantly. The fierce look in his eyes set you on edge enough you probably would confess your deepest secrets to him if he asked. Aelin had pasted an amused look on her face, but you knew she was taking note of every name, of every word exchanged between the two of you. 

“How did you find out?” You asked the question that had been on your mind all night. 

Rowan, at least, had the decency to grimace - but didn’t look apologetic at all. “I followed you.” 

At least there wasn’t a snitch somewhere, only a nosy buzzard. “I’d do the same,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. Rowan’s mouth quirked up at the side. 

Maybe this could be the bridge, a way to start connecting the gap between you and them. That’s if you could figure out how to overcome the hurt dealt to you - how they hadn’t defended you, hadn’t said a word against some of the vultures linking in their courts. You could say you were making assumptions, but you were blessed by the God of truth - it was perfectly clear to you. 

A pessimistic part of your mind, the antagonist, rose to the front. Are you only worthy now that they know of your magic? Now that you can prove yourself as an equal? You clenched your fists together once, twice, three times, and released them. A conversation for another time, something to think through on another date. A day where you would give them a piece of your mind, once you were ready. 

[waterdomemusic]

Purified Fragments XXII - Brilliant EP - 2024

Review zu Purified Fragments XXII – 6 – Track EP – Purified Records – 2024 Facts Artist: Whiteout, Kiholm & Ivy Marie, Juno StoneCountry of Origin: Georgien, Dänemark, AustralienTitle: Purified Fragments XXIIFormat: 6-Track EP, Stream, DownloadGenre: Deep House, Melodic HouseLabel: Purified RecordsRelease Date: July 19, 20246 Tracks • 30m 07s At qobuz available in Hi-res24 Bits / 44.1 kHz –…

[shatterthefragments]

Crop top and underwear with my mini fan pointed at me bc I can’t find where the sister put/buried my regular fan :(

[weownthenitenyc]

Purified Records Releases Purified Fragments XII

Purified Records Releases Purified Fragments XII

As the final month of 2022 approaches, Purified Records shows no signs of slowing down as it reveals its latest selection of floor-filling cuts in Purified Fragments XII. Consisting of three carefully selected cuts, the compilation is out now on all streaming platforms. Making an emphatic label debut, German producer Martin Waslewski kick-starts the playlist with his heavy-hitting track Nrgy.…

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ sew me a sweater, dear...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... your favs ♡

A/N... this is a repost from my very temporary old blog (sorryyy)... i decided to 'rebrand' this blog (once i finally figured out the login details), so we've gone from typing-ptera to fictoculus! i'm working on getting all my posts cleaned up too, but my masterlist broke so please bear with me ♡ thank you and enjoy!

soft and gentle; delicate touches lingering on your warm skin as his fingertips kiss you all over. your limbs tangled with his like the wires left unorganised in your shared home. you were knotted together tightly; so tightly that it would take an unimaginable amount of time and force to rip the two of you apart.

the love you shared was messy and untamed. threads of adoration, devotion, and intimacy twisting together as one, a string with which you sew together the pieces of the lives you live together - the lives you share.

soon, with those threads, will come a new life. one so delicate and innocent that he's afraid to touch it. he's afraid that he'll chip away at it as if it were porcelain, each touch from his calloused hands cracking it's fragile skin. he's afraid everything he lives for will shatter in his arms, a thousand fragments of fond memories scattered around him with their corners curved, as the love was too forgiving and kind to ever hurt him.

but even if the stitches come undone, you'll still love him.

you'll still love his cold demeanour, and the way he shuts himself out when he's struggling, but always leaves a gap in the door for you. you'll still love his trusting and loyal nature, despite being betrayed too many times for hands to count. you'll still love him, regardless of his fears, his anxieties, his habits. you'll still love him when he's unsure, you'll still love him when he's wrong.

which is why you stood by him when he feared that fatherhood wouldn't purify him the way he thought it would. it's why you stood by him until he reached the very end of his string; until you could follow him no longer.

now, the two of you lie side by side, still and quiet, a darkness weighing you down, leaving your hearts heavy with desire.

a man clad in black stands before you, and from his lips fall a poem embroidered on silk, laid gently upon your casket as earth envelops you in her soiled embrace:

"soft and gentle, messy and untamed, delicate and innocent, forgiving and kind, trusting and loyal, still and quiet: threads of our love which knows no bounds sew me a sweater, dear, for a sweater will keep me warm when your heart is no longer near"

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost any of my works as your own

[sillysillyprice]

"Why should I trust you?"

"we are fragmented souls, residues of what we once were, if we unite... we will purify our hearts, we will free ourselves from the agony that torments us"

"How do I know you're not Shadow Milk Cookie trying to trick me?"

"I am Shadow Milk Cookie, just like you are Dark Enchantress Cookie"

"We are more alike than you think, that's why you are the perfect carrier for the light of truth, you and I, we have been through the same thing, not even Pure Vanilla Cookie could understand me like you will"

When two incomplete souls come together, they become a complete one, her friends don't know it, for them she is still White Lily Cookie, but someone else accompanies her and gives her a new identity

two minds united, two minds that have seen the truth about the world, two minds that equate the knowledge of their deities the witches, and even being wiser... White Lily Cookie now shares her existence with the original bearer of her friend's Soul Jam, and they adopt together in the name of Light Lily Cookie, agreeing to end the agony of both