#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…

[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

[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

[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. 

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Hotaru Haganezuka with Chise!reader headcanons 🎐🪴

Warnings: OOC, aged up!reader (will be in their late twenties), foul language from Hotaru, and the setting takes place five years before the main plot of Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer, so Hotaru will be 32 years old instead of his canon age, 37.

Here it is everyone, the finale of the two part collaboration with @deathmetalunicorn1 featuring the character!reader as Chise Hatori from the anime/manga series, The Ancient Magus’ Bride.

For those who haven’t read the first part, the link will here.

Our inspiration came from the maginificent Haganezuka x reader comic created by @yuki2sksksk. Check it out guys, it is amazing!

With that being said, sit back, relax and enjoy :)

PART THREE LINK IS HERE

PART TWO : A PLACE TO RETURN TO

She was gone. Vanished without a trace in the arms of something that wasn’t human and only he knew about it. Haganezuka couldn’t breathe. He felt light-headed, the air knocked out of his lungs and the world spinning as he struggled to keep himself together. Pulling his body off of the floor, he winced when a loud crack resounded in his ear. He looked down petals, soil, and clay pieces right by his feet, a large fragment inches from slicing through the bottom of his right sandal. 

Haganezuka’s chest tightened even further at the sight before…he felt something snap. He did not know how or why, but the force of whatever he was feeling made him scramble across the room, looking for something, anything to keep him grounded. Then from the corner of his eye, he saw an iron key half buried in a hydrangea plant. The key to [First Name]’s shop. Grabbing it, he briskly towards the entrance, swiveling on his heel and locking up the place before sprinting down the street. 

Civilians and swordsmen alike dove to the opposite side of the road upon seeing him but he could not find himself to give a shit as he passed them all, skidding to a halt in front of the private room where he knew Tecchin would be resting until dinnertime.

 He yelled, pushing the shoji door open with enough strength to knock it off of the tracks. “Old man!” Haganezuka did not even both remove his sandals as he stepped inside nor cared about the surprised and exasperated expression that Tecchin was throwing at him. 

“Hotaru! What is the meaning of -” It took him three steps to be in front of the old man, and he kneeled down to Tecchin’s level as his hands clamped down on those frail shoulders that used to hold him as a child. 

“She’s gone!”

“Who is gone, Hotaru?” Tecchin pressed. 

“[First Name]!” Haganezuka snapped, his voice growing shaky. “She- she was taken by this brat with dark hair and green eyes. He had a horned shadow th-that grabbed her. He called [First Name] his child! A-And he said that she’d almost killed herself again.” He stared at Tecchin long and hard through his mask. “Old man, she told me you knew him as the master, and that’s what…I think that is the one who took her. I asked him questions -”

“You spoke to him?” Tecchin squeaked. 

“I wasn’t going to let some stranger take her away!” Haganzeuka growled. “You, I, and everyone in this village....she’s helped us all but we know so little about her. What she told me about herself…only the one who bought her freedom would know. And that brat….he knew everything. Where he got her, How he knew what she truly was, even why he purchased her! But he took her, and said she’ll come back when she’s ready!” 

Haganezuka jolted. He looked down and saw Tecchin’s  trembling hands resting on top of his own. He watched the old man closely, his chest rising and falling shakily before he spoke. 

“Hotaru, my dear, dear boy.” Tecchin squeezed his palms. “The medicine woman’s master…he is someone who never comes down from his mountain unless it involves two matters: purifying ayakashi, and his apprentice. If he had come to her shop and taken her as you say he did, then consider yourself fortunate that you even saw it happen, because he has the ability to stop time, if only for a few moments. He could have just done that and taken her away and you would have never realized it.” He inhaled a deep breath. “As of right now…we cannot tell anyone about what happened. Should anyone say something, [First Name] received an urgent summons to one of the cities…that there is an outbreak of an unknown disease and she will not return until it has been resolved.”

“But -”

We cannot scare the villagers about things they will not understand or accept as we have, Hotaru. You know that. We cannot waver. Not now.”

Haganezuka swallowed a sob, trying to hold back the tears prickling the corner of his eyes…but they just came out, warm and wet, slipping down his face. He didn’t even stop Tecchin from removing his mask. “She’s gone…She’s gone, and all that person told me was…to look after her home! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT WHEN SHE’S DYING?!”

Tecchin did not say anything. He just sat in the room with him, squeezing his hands until Haganezuka felt he couldn’t cry anymore. Now…now he just felt…numb. He stood up from the floor, bowing to the old man and murmuring an apology before he trudged towards the sliding door. Tecchin then called out to him. He glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

“[First Name]’s house…it is on the outskirts of the village, in the east. My servant will fetch the spare key that she’d entrusted with me so that you may use it. Tend to her shop as needed, since he is the one who had told you to take care of her home. Please wait by the stairs.”

Haganezuka blinked, then nodded before he left the room, closing the door behind him. By the time he’d made it to the entryway of the old man’s residence, there was a servant already there. He just took the key and left without saying another word. When he looked up at the sky, it was still early in the afternoon. He had time to at least look around the place before heading back to his own home before nightfall settled in. 

Her home was about a quarter mile, the forest nestled right behind it. It was small with large sliding panel doors. The perfect size for an unmarried woman living on her own. Using the key Tecchin had given him, it slid into the front door and allowed him to push it to the right. Sliding his shoes off, he stepped inside, and he was immediately greeted by the pungent scent of herbs and soil. It was similar to how he’d entered her shop for the first time….but there was something else here. It felt…warm. Cozy even. 

When he rounded the corner, however, he did not expect to see an enclosed courtyard in the center of the room, sunshine leaking from a square-shaped hole in the ceiling and shining down on rocks, plants, and flowers or how the hallway extended even further, leading to a corridor. Haganezuka blinked. He then exited the house, stepping outside to glance at the exterior before walking back inside. It wasn’t possible for a place like this to be tripled in size when it looked so small from the outside! Unless…

He pushed up his mask, scowling at the throbbing sensation pulsing on the side of his head. “It has to be the magic that [First Name] talked about. There’s just no other possible explanation for this…to even happen.” He sighed, and then continued to walk around the empty house. The wooden floors stretched towards the living room, where an irori stood in the middle, a kettle suspended over rotted wood and sand. There were four seating cushions around the outer area, most likely set up for any guests she might have had. 

Walking past it and through the double sliding doors, Haganezuka found the kitchen with dry goods kept in wooden baskets. No doubt the water jug is outside, and probably needed to be changed out sooner than later. The ladle to scoop the water out might also require a good scrubbing too. Probably the bathroom too, unless it was an outside one. He began to make a mental list of what needed to be done and what could wait as he went from room to room. The sitting area was covered in a light layer of dust, the futons in the bedroom would need to be washed…and there was a second room connected to it? And it was an office?!

Books and journals laid on tatami mats as twin towers leaning precariously against each other, with a small desk covered in scrolls and an ink stone set on the right side with a ink brush and a zaisu. Haganezuka turned to leave and explore what other secrets were to be discovered when something flashed from the corner of his eye. He paused, and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened at the sight of a piece of jade, round in shape with a perfect circle in the center and tied with a leather cord. Excluding the color, it was an exact replica of the one [First Name] wore. 

He stepped forward and carefully lifted it from the desk, cradling it in the center of his palm. He felt grief swelling up inside of him again, and he bit his bottom lip until he could taste his blood. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he held it up and yelped, instantly dropping the necklace and watching it fall onto the floor with a low ‘thud’. His heart raced against his chest. Something…something was in the center of the stone. He saw something. 

Exhaling a shaky breath, he kneeled down and picked up the stone, looking right through it. What he saw is…well, there’s really no way he can explain it. There were tiny, female human-shaped creatures with multi-colored feathered wings and big, black eyes staring at him with smiles that had pointy teeth sticking out. 

“Such a funny man wearing a funny mask!” One of them giggled, performing a small circle in the air, flapping her verdant wings. “I wonder if our sweetie knows him?” Another scoffed, one with violet tresses and wings, as she crossed her arms.

“Obviously he knows him, sister. We all know our dear child never allows no one to come into her home unless it involves an emergency with a patient. He hasn’t screamed or run from us yet, so she must have told him about us. He has earned her trust.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you someone we can trust, human?”

Haganezuka gulped, knowing at this very moment, he needed to be careful with his words or he had a feeling that these….things will do anything in their power to prevent from carrying out the job he’d been given by the one who hid in the mountains. 

“[First Name]...she is someone who is important to me. This morning, she was taken away by someone like you…except he has a horned shadow and green eyes. He told me to take care of this place until she returned. Have you heard of him?” He asked.

They looked at him with expressions ranging from shock to worry to fear before they gathered together, huddling and whispering to each other in low, soft voices for a few moments until the green-haired one spoke to him again. “If what you’re saying is true, then our sweetie must have been much weaker than we had thought after she had dealt with relocating the salamander. The Horned Hermit likes to isolate himself up in those cold cliffs, so for him to come and get her….she must be very, very sick.”

“The Horned Hermit?” Haganezuka repeated.

“That’s what we call him,” One of them chirped, pulling away from the group and landing right on his shoulder. “He’s had many names over the centuries, and they are all so dull.” He looked down at her. 

“And…you’re neighbors, right?”

“My, my, you are an intelligent one!” She said, beaming up at him. “Now that I think about it, you must be the human she had rescued from the salamander! That explains why you know so much about us! Our sweetie doesn’t tell us much about the humans she’s treated…but she does smile when she speaks about the one who had given her a few sticks of mitarashi dango when he didn’t have to. You must be very special if the Horned King wants you to look after her home. I hope you’ll keep us entertained until she comes back, young one~!”

All right, now he knew they were teasing him. 

“So…if you’ve been visiting or staying here, then you must know where everything or anything I need to know about this house, right?”

The violet-haired one stared at him long and hard before she sighed, drifting towards one of his hands. He immediately expanded his fingers, and she sat on the edge of it with a huff. “The first rule about the neighbors is that nothing is free. We will tell you what we know…we just expect fair payment in exchange.”

Haganezuka remembered [First Name] mentioning that something cannot be made from nothing; in simpler terms, the foundation of magic revolved around give and take. To need something, a payment of equal value must be exchanged. For example, if someone asked one of these….little ones to do something for them, then they require an offering for their services. In this case, they wanted sweets. The best that the village had. 

Fair enough. He thought, turning away from them. “All right, I’ll bring some back. Give me about an hour or so.” He said. They cheered loudly, the echo of their jubilation bouncing off the halls and even to the front door as Haganezuka slipped on his shoes and locked up the house. 

Within the time he had promised, the swordsmith bought a lot of the best sweets in bulk and snarled at the owner when he asked why in the world he needed so many at once, stomping back to the house. He was not going to get conned by these neighbors, damn it! Too many sweets is better than bringing back too little and then he’d be broke and have no idea how to take care of [First Name]’s house!

They quickly scarfed the plates of sweets as soon as he set them down in the kitchen on plates he found near the stove, not leaving a single crumb behind. Once they had their fill, the green-haired one introduced herself and her sisters as Ariels; they are neighbors, fairies with control over the winds though they hate being addressed by the latter term because it’s such a ' dull name’. They stay here from summer to fall and travel back home when winter comes. Since they had found a child of magic in this part of the world, there was harm in being friendly with [First Name]; Like what he’d just done now, he respected and paid them with sweets.

 Now they will return the favor. 

Since Haganezuka had already seen the house already, they showed him where everything is; cleaning supplies, the location of the water jug, garden tools to use for the inner courtyard, etc, etc. They also showed him two rooms in the very back, locked and covered in paper seals. These were not to be opened while [First Name] was away under any circumstances, they stressed. One of them had disobeyed this rule and snuck in to see what secrets [First Name] could possibly be hiding. It ended with a cursed ink painting of a bakeneko nearly been released into the world, no doubt to seek revenge on the monk who had sealed it away, and  entrusted this dangerous artifact to [First Name] due to her experience in handling such things. 

That was the first and only time that they had ever seen their sweetie so incredibly angry. The culprit was punished, and no one has gone near these rooms since. The doors, however, need to be blessed once a month with a special solution to preserve the wards. They will teach him it, of course, for an extra serving of mitarashi dango. 

Haganezuka felt a shudder of dread crawl down his spine. Shit. They were not teasing him. They were serious. He stiffly walked out of the corridor, swearing to never set foot in either room unless it was to perform another blessing ritual from the inside. 

Although he would have been content with being a glorified housekeeper and gardener, making sure everything is nice and neat when [First Name] returned home, the Ariels regretfully (or not) informed him that those won’t be his only tasks around here. He had to spread salt outside and around the house’s perimeter, at dawn and at dusk. He’d also have to buy or make them, the Ariels, more offerings and for any other neighbor who might stop by, plus wipe down the wind chimes in the courtyard with salt water. 

It’s a lot to do, they know, but these rituals were necessary. They prevented the ayakashi or any other unwanted guests from entering the house and possibly causing harm to their sweetie…and now, him. The tasks at night-time were shorter, if it made Haganezuka feel better. But it didn’t, though he grudgingly understood the importance of this daily routine. 

 [First Name] had to do this every day, including running her shop and traveling up the mountains? No wonder she always looked tired. He felt his face heat up from behind his mask when they all stared at him as if he were the village idiot. 

“What?” He hissed. 

The green-haired one shook her head. “We’re not making fun of you, dearie. Our sweetie must seem exhausted when you see her, but when we see her, she doesn’t tire out from performing these rituals….she simply uses too much magic that the human body cannot handle all at once, even if she is a Sleigh Beggy. But if you’re really curious about them, you can find everything in her office, she always keeps her books there. Now, let’s get started while there’s still daylight~!”

And that’s what happened in the coming days. Every morning and night, he  went to the house to perform the rituals and make offerings to the neighbors. Yes, you heard him. He fucking made the sweets because buying them in bulk had burned through most of his extra income from two last-minute jobs. He had to lie to Kanamori's wife and say he wanted to make mitarashi dango because he was tired of buying it all of the time.

The Ariels seemed to like his offerings…and his company. 

They helped with some of the chores, pointing out where stuff went and so on. After he cleaned the house, tending to the garden in the courtyard is his next job; weeding, plucking herbs carefully from the soil, preserving them in jars or carefully bundling them together with string and placing them in the storehouse. The Ariel who’d be with him always reminded him to make sure he labeled the jars so it would be easier on him and their sweetie to find whatever needed in a pinch. After the wind chimes were wiped down and the salt was spread around the house, it would be time for him to go home. 

The Ariels would thank him for his hard work, and one of them would go with him as an escort just in case there was an unpleasant neighbor lurking around at night. Fortunately, nothing has happened yet. 

In between handling his client’s swords, eating, and sleeping, he would read. Every time he went to the house, he would take journals from there - two of them. One about the neighbors, the ‘research pile’ and one of [First Name]’s personal diaries. He read about her earlier years with the master and the difference of legends regarding the origins on the nue and tengen, all at once. It fascinated and terrified and angered him, reading those meticulous ink strokes. She was strong and reckless, intelligent and kind, but never once had she been truly selfish when her body is so weak. 

A Sleigh Beggy can absorb magic at an incredible rate, but it’s really no different from a weak heart and there’s too much blood in the body. It was no wonder, thinking back on it, why the Horned Hermit was upset when he took his apprentice away from the village. And that comment on how Sleigh Beggys aren't as strong as they used to be. 

Then he found the last entry she had written, dated three days before she vanished. He felt fury boiling in his veins as he tightly gripped the diary in his hands on the eve of the last day of summer. She…she had used her magic to accelerate his healing?! Idiot! He screamed in his head. You didn’t have to do that, I was fine so why did you still-?!

But he already knew the answer. She did it because she knew she could, even if it would backfire on her one day. Haganezuka bit his lip, feeling the tears well up behind his eyes again. Shit, shit, shit! He furiously wiped them away with the back of his hand and closed the diary, succumbing to a fitful sleep that made him cranky the very next day. 

As the weeks grew longer, the night-time air began to cool and the leaves fell from their branches. He kept himself as busy as he could with his work and looking after [First Name]’s home, but there is yet to be any sign of her returning home. Then one cold morning when he opened up his window to let in some fresh air, Haganezuka saw…fluffy clouds with tiny black legs and pale blue wings floating around? Huh? Glancing around his room, he quickly found one of the journals and flipped through the pages until he found an illustration of the neighbor he can see right now.

Wooly bug, not a neighbor. Closer to animals. Migrating from the West as the Ariels and other ‘neighbors’, they are not too picky about the offerings. They seem to prefer rice balls. Their bodies absorb the cold air, which allows fleece to grow. Normally populates in high numbers during the summer.  Fleece can be sold as a magical item or put under a pillow to ensure good dreams.  Note - they are very rarely seen by humans, so even most people with magical talent do not know they even exist and mistake the wooly bug’s fleece for the fur of a baku, which is in fact a rare and HIGHLY dangerous neighbor. 

For more information on baku, refer to page 45. 

That was when he heard a squeak. Looking up from the page he’d been reading, he yelped in surprise when one of the wooly bugs suddenly appeared in front of him, causing him to drop the journal. He swore, kneeling down to pick it up from the floor when the wooly bug grabbed it first, holding the notebook in its snout. 

Haganezuka blinked. Then, very, very slowly, he took the journal from it. “....Thank you.” He murmured, wondering already how many rice balls should he give to it when it just pressed its soft body against his right shoulder. When he tried to push it away, the wooly bug began to squeak incessantly until he hugged it back with his spare arm.  

Well…it’s definitely warm. They were going to be nice to have around with the winter approaching very quickly. 

Before he realized it, the Ariels bade him good-bye after he had served them their final offerings of sweets for the day. It was time for them to return home and celebrate the coming of winter in their kingdom. They were surprised to see a wooly bug attached to him, but they knew it would be in good hands. They did advise him to shear them before they migrated home in spring, should he wish, so that healthy new fleece could grow back.

Throughout the winter, Haganezuka alternated time in his workshed and [First Name]’s home. Now he knew where everything was located and what to do, including the blessings in that damned corridor, the tasks seemed less laborious now that he’s comfortable with doing the rituals on his own without any help. He also had two fluffy companions that curled up with him as he read more of [First Name]’s research journals. He learned about all the herbs and plants that grew around the mountains and the village. In all honesty, he had no idea there were so many of them with practical uses. 

When a fever broke out in the village, Haganezuka had been the only one who didn’t get sick. He offered to go out and get what the village doctor needed to treat his patients. Tecchin and the doctor were shocked that he’d not only did the task, but also acquired herbs that were extremely hard to find in winter just in case they were needed. 

Haganezuka tried to brush the praise as not a big deal, but the damned old man would let it go that his precious son was growing up into a fine, young man. 

Once the house and his work was finished for the day, he made time whenever he could to tend to the shop. It wasn’t easy to do so, though Kanamori and his wife were more than happy to do most of the upkeep whenever he got saddled with too much work. At the very least, when Haganezuka couldn’t tend to the potted plants and trim away their leaves or throw out any moldy herbs, he wiped down the wind chimes with salt water. 

The shop still remained closed, but he and Kanamori made sure it was also clean when [First Name] returned. 

There wasn’t a day when Haganezuka’s thoughts drifted towards the medicine woman. He wondered if she woke up, if she’s eating well and taking medicine, if she’s resting when she’s supposed to be doing under the Horned Hermit’s instructions and  getting stronger in the mountains. He tried to be optimistic…but it was starting to get harder and harder to cling to that hope in the darkest time of the year. 

Days blurred together, bleeding into weeks until the first breeze of spring arrived. The wooly bugs migrated back to the west, but two of them decided to remain by his side. He didn’t mind their company since they were…adorable, and kept out of his way when he worked. One of them loved sitting on top of his head or on his shoulder. 

Haganezuka remained diligent in his work and looked after the house and the shop. 

Then, one week after the New Year had been rung in…she returned. 

He had been tending to the garden, trying to preserve the herbs that had barely survive the frostbite that blew through the village with the wooly bugs curled up close to him when he heard the pitter-patter of bare feet pressing against the floor….except that no one should be in the house because the wards were still active. No ayakashi should be able to get in, and he had performed the monthly blessings. 

Could it have been Kanamori or Tecchin showing up unannounced to check on him again? Haganezuka growled, feeling his temper about to boil over when he looked up from his work, ready to shout at whoever was here when the words got stuck in his throat. His grip on the spade in his right hand fell onto the snow-covered dirt with a low thud. 

[First Name] was standing right in front of him, smiling softly…and dressed in the worst kimono he’d ever seen on a person, feeling his right eye beginning to twitch.

 It was black with golden eyes on the sleeves and a dark red obi wrapped around her waist with more golden swirls etched on the fabric. She wore billowing dark blue pants underneath it, and wooden geta sandals. Her lower legs were covered in leg bandages. 

He opened his mouth to argue at her attire…then stopped himself and decided not to give a damn. He stood up and swept her into his arms, hugging her tightly. “You’re home.” He whispered shakily, carding a hand through her hair, which had gotten longer in the past year since she’s been gone, just to make sure that it isn’t a crazy dream and this is all real. Haganezuka felt his heart begin to hammer wildly against his rib cage upon feeling her quivering arms coil around his waist and whisper softly in his ear, her voice low and tired…and relieved. 

“I am.”

[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.…

[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

[sixpillarsofgenesis]

A (Non-Canon) Exhaustive Reference on Ergo for Lies of P

Ergo comes in many categories; due to Ergo being in the stages of infancy for industrial development, below is an extensive list of Ergo, graded from lowest to highest with additional notes for further review, as well as Stargazers, Stargazers +, and some items as used by Stalkers, Alchemists, and the Workshop Union.

Stargazers and Stargazers+

Before the fall of Krat to the Petrification Disease and the later Puppet Frenzy, Stargazers were used by Stalkers to communicate to their respective bases on mission updates, intelligence, and transmit missives across Krat without others hearing. However, since the Alchemists invented the Stargazers, they often can eavesdrop on these private missives, something they did much more frequently after Simon Manus took over to better plan their spread of the Petrification Disease.

When Sophia was captured, she found her soul splintered across each of the Stargazers, resulting in her being able to send and receive messages from P during his journey and aiding him by turning back time to the last Stargazer he left a bit of his own Ergo at.

In the new timeline created by the Blue Butterfly Record, Carlo modifies the Stargazers into a Stargazer+ model. Eavesdropping was - unknowingly - scrambled by this action, leaving the Alchemists forced to do more groundwork regarding their own spy activities, which is quite frustrating for Simon Manus and his group.

Types of Ergo:

Ergo comes in nine grades of quality, not including subclasses or unique materials that were not discovered until later, starting with Kroud/Raw Ergo and ending with Complete Form Ergo.

Raw and Kroud: Raw and Kroud-grade Ergo is the lowest grade of Ergo, and this material is functionally useless for any power sources. Raw Kroud, however, is excellent in use for filtration systems for Ergo and Ergo particles. Once raw Kroud is removed from the main source, it ceases to grow, from which it can then be turned into thin sheets for water to pass through, or a rough substrate that can provide a higher grade Filtered Ergo. Dim Ergo Chunks, Crystals, and Fragments often come from this grade of Ergo.

Luminous Ergo: Luminous Ergo is material that has been successfully mined. While not extremely bright or energetic in colour, this is often the bulk of Ergo used in puppets and by Alchemists for their Liquid Ergo, unaware (or perhaps uncaring) that this is a material of very low quality. Radiant Ergo fragments come from this grade of Ergo.

Filtered Ergo: Filtered Ergo is any Ergo that is processed through Kroud Substrate or purified in saltwater that has an electric current running through it. Kroud Filtered is the easiest of the two methods; in the timeline that comes from Blue Butterfly Record, this is the cheap and quick option used to filter Krat's water supply and the Barren Swamp. This collects large deposits and provides an easily accessible quantity of Filtered Ergo for immediate use, as Ergo crystalises quickly, just like Kroud. Salt and Current Filtered Ergo is an intense process - this is the bare minimum used to build P and Carlo in the Real Boy timeline. Resplendent Ergo Chunks, Crystals and Fragments come from this grade.

Liquid Ergo/Fable Catalyst: Traditional and pure Liquid Ergo is a liquified version of Ergo collected by a Stargazer and produced over time - however, this material can take weeks to accumulate, so Alchemists often find shortcuts to make Liquid Ergo using the lowest grade possible.

Luminous Liquid Ergo is made by Alchemists and was previously sold to Stalkers at a severe markup. When the Filtered Liquid Ergo was provided by a competitor, the Alchemists were forced to slash their prices and lost out on some funding. As a Fable Catalyst, this material functions at 50% efficiency as compared to the highest grade Catalyst. Filtered Liquid Ergo is made of the previous Filtered Ergo, and functions at higher efficiency - closer to 70-75% efficiency as compared to the highest quality and grade Fable Catalyst. There is no difference between Natural Liquid Ergo and Fable Catalyst - both are processed by Stargazers, and the creation of a single vial of Fable Catalyst - 29.5 millilitres or one fluid ounce - can take a single Stargazer up to a month to obtain. As the highest grade, this operates at 100% efficiency and is highly sought after by Stalkers with the money to spend or their clients looking to tempt a new Stalker for their needs.

Refined Ergo/Quartz: Refined Ergo is a material best used for forging weaponry, as this type of Ergo begins to impart Fable Arts upon the weapons they are made for. While Refined Ergo is very potent, it is an Ergo that has not reached the full potential of true Rare Grade Ergo, and as such can only truly impart its power to either the Blade or Handle of a weapon. Quartz is a unique material used in the Real Boy timeline to upgrade the P-Organ. Unlike most Ergo at the Refined Stage, this Ergo is purely unaffiliated. It is Ergo that is generated from ambient lifeforce, and retains a lack of structure unless imparted with Silver Ergo. Functionally useless on its own, Quartz retains multiple unique properties which make it very interesting to those looking for a flexible material with which to make synthetic fabrics... or a certain puppet's skin. Vivid Ergo can sometimes come of this.

Rare Ergo: A phenomenon that only occurs when a near-perfect copy of a person is formed within the body of a puppet or a human who was not cured of the Petrification Disease. These contain the full memories of a life that is not yet lived, in Blue Butterfly Record. When used in forging a weapon, they impart the strongest and most potent effects, allowing for a weapon to be made with both Blade and Handle carrying complementary abilities.

The Listener's Ergo: Listeners contain a most curious property: Their Ergo can reflect their abilities upon death. Generally useless in combat, these bright Ergo Cores manifest as almost literal seeds that can be planted or shaped into a myriad of items. Notable Listener's Ergos include: - The Monad Lamp of Gemini (Alchemists hotly debate if Gemini himself was a Listener, but despite the Monad Lamp's existence, it remains in question.) - The Gold Coin Fruit Tree (Original Listener unknown) - The Blue Butterfly Record & The Stargazers (Sophia Monad.) Additional Listener's Ergos may exist, but these are the only ones known for now.

Precious Ergo: Precious Ergo - or Coloured Ergo, despite there only being three unique colours - are unique seeds of Ergo from times long past that later matured into high-grade, rare Ergo that reflects one of three metals. Copper Ergo is a conductivity enhancement. Often mistaken for actual copper, this Ergo can transmit electrical currents with virtually no energy loss and is reserved for emergency services and risky transport. Silver Ergo is primarily inert material that can be used to direct and stabilise other forms of Ergo. Most often used in Quartz Ergo to determine the final pliability and overall density of the material. This material can also prevent a material's durability from being worn down, and bits of it can be forged into Grindstones and used as a whetstone for a weapon. It is rumoured that the infamous Dorothy's Red shoes are made with Silver Ergo in the heel and stitching to ensure safe travel when she uses the special feature within her heels. Gold Ergo is used to power large machines and is best for travelling through dangerous waters and terrain, as it does not need to be renewed for a very, very long time.

Complete Ergo: Ergo that has the complete consciousness of the departed. This Ergo is best described as a homunculus, as it is in every sense, a human that can think, feel, and when provided the appropriate outlets, speak move as well. Notable complete Ergo sources: - Geppetto's Puppet - Real Boy Carlo - Nameless Puppet (A reality that never was)