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konigbabe · 9 months

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steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

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There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

#moni writes #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #kashimo x reader #hajime x reader #jujutsu kaisen #hajime kashimo x y/n #hajime x y/n #kashimo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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yukirayu · 2 months

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Nitro+CHiRAL Protagonists: Fragrance Details

The latest announcement from Nitro+CHiRAL includes new products involving all five (main) protagonists, some of which are perfumes. (The link to the shop can be found here.)

For reference purposes, below are the details about the fragrances used for each protagonist:

TOGAINU NO CHI: Akira - Fragrance Type Woody Chypre

[Top Note] Lemon, Lemon Flower, Cardamom [Middle Note] Cinnamon, Cedarwood, Incense [Last Note] Musk, Agarwood, Patchouli, Amber

LAMENTO: Konoe - Fragrance Type Green Floral

[Top Note] Cassis, Figleaf [Middle Note] White Lily, Lily of the Valley, Lilac [Last Note] Cyclamen, Ozone, White Musk

SWEET POOL: Youji - Fragrance Type Green Aromatic

[Top Note] Bergamot, Lime, Melon, Black Currant [Middle Note] Estragon, Cucumber Green, Geranium [Last Note] Raspberry, Musk

DRAMATICAL MURDER: Aoba - Fragrance Type Fruity Musk

[Top Note] Grapefruit, Lemon, Pear [Middle Note] Red Apple, Jasmine, Rose, Gardenia [Last Note] Musk

SLOW DAMAGE: Towa - Fragrance Type Oriental

[Top Note] Cinnamon, Vanilla [Middle Note] Lilac, Clove, Elemi, Musk, Leather, Raspberry [Last Note] Guaiac Wood, Stylax, Vetiver, Patchouli

#togainu no chi #lamento #sweet pool #dramatical murder #slow damage

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aesthetikins · 9 months

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this isn't a response to any request, i'm just online window-shopping again and wanted to shout out my favorite fragrance shop since i think the scents they sell can be pretty alterhuman friendly

demeter fragrance is my go-to for unhuman scents. smells that are hard to capture. they have a lot of florals, which is common for perfumes, but uncommon scents like asian pear, basil, and monk fruit. they have enjoyable but strange scents, like the ozone smell of thunderstorms, and the smell of freshly upturned soil (one of my favorites, the scent is called earthworm). they have some smells that are outright weird, like turpentine, funeral home bouquets, fresh tennis balls, and glue

if the sound of smells named things like riding crop, lotus, spacewalk, tarnish, and wet garden sound interesting to you, please check them out! their 0.5 oz/15ml cologne bottles are really conveniently sized. for a fragrance company that makes strange smells, their prices are really cheap. most of their scents can be bought as splash bottles, spray bottles, roll-ons, lotion, body wash, and body oil and have sampler spray bottles

#sundew spotted #this isnt sponsored /j i just really like their scents and think theyre unintentionally alterhuman af smells #otherkin #fictionkin #therian #alterhuman

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loveofdetail · 6 months

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bg3 companions fragrance headcanons because of course i was going to make this post eventually

Shadowheart: Anything heady and lush. We're talking your jasmine amber incense bombs. Patchouli, rose, vanilla, clove and anise, chocolate, a touch of aldehydes for sparkle. She wears perfume to Turn Heads and Make Statements and it works.

Karlach: She likes cheap fruity body sprays and has no desire for anything more "sophisticated"

Wyll: Warm, sweet, woody, and spicy. Gourmands but the more sophisticated kind of gourmands. While he does not wear overtly floral-forward perfumes he DOES love when floral notes play a supporting role. Signature scent: Au Coeur du Désert by Tauer Perfumes

Astarion: Bracing greens. Scents that are so herbal they can edge into bitter/medicinal. Leather as a base note. He would put substantial effort into trying to find a mint perfume that Does It Right instead of smelling like toothpaste or vaporub.

Minthara: Understated and androgynous aquatic, ozonic, mineralic, soapy scents. Signature scent: Narciso Rodriguez For Him

Lae'zel: I honestly don't think she would be interested in scenting herself however she WOULD appreciate when someone else is wearing something bold and daring. If a perfume has a reputation of being "love it or hate it" she probably loves it.

Halsin: Okay this is probably gonna be my most controversial take on this list but I think he would wear macy's fragrance counter fuckboi scents BUT CRUCIALLY he inexplicably pulls it off and they always smell AMAZING on him.

Gale: He likes very complex perfumes where it's hard to identify individual notes because they are just that exquisitely blended and balanced. Also he's rather old-fashioned. Gravitates toward things like oakmoss, labdanum, orris root, civet—basically a greatest hits list of Classic Perfumery even though the average person has no idea what they smell like.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #halsin #lae'zel #minthara #astarion #astarion ancunin #wyll ravengard #karlach #shadowheart #sorry i don't have jaheira and minsc on here perhaps i'll update the list after i actually ummmmmm interact with them

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strrkie-art · 11 months

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flavors of jjk characters

amateur set of aroma associations. aromatherapy is my little relaxing hobby, I am not a perfumer

Satoru Gojo woody-musky composition with light floral notes. The fragrance fits snugly to the skin

Suguru Geto oriental woody perfume. his hair and clothes smell of palo santo, he carries a trail of kitchen spices and petricore (Satoru calms down and says even "sobers up" from this fragrance, when you need to put your thoughts in order, Shoko calls him "honey wood")

Shoko Ieiri among the mixed smells of latex gloves, formalin and cigarettes, her fragrance consists of one tuberose and sounds weak, almost imperceptible

Utahime Iori nothing came to mind but the scent of white lily and lemon peel

Yuki Tsukumo I think a refreshing playful composition of neroli and pepper with notes of grapefruit would suit her, while poorly hiding the smell of rubber and metal on her hands

Choso camphor and tea rose

Mei Mei fragrance of cashmere, black currant berries, ginger

Kento Nanami sun-warmed trees, oak and fresh aquatic notes on warm days, in cold weather he will be warmed combination of guryun balm, bergamot and pomegranate peel

Hiromi Higuruma restrained fragrance of clary sage, cardamom, lavender and cedar

Yuuji Itadori orange, sage, vetiver I think Yuu is not picky, it is normal for him to use a 3 in 1 shampoo with an indefinite smell, he has not yet decided what exactly complements it, he uses different probes that Nobara gives him as a present, but most often unconsciously chooses compositions with orange

Megumi Fushiguro green tea and oak moss, smell of cleanliness, which happens to washed laundry with a powder without fragrance, brought from the cold into the warmth of the room

Ryomen Sukuna strong vanilla at the beginning and after it sounds deeper with bitter wild herbs and pine needles, supplemented with tobacco, orchid notes and musk, completely eclipsing the original suffocating sweetness

Uraume cotton, fresh figs and burnt laurel leaves

Tsumiki Fushiguro pink pepper and lily of the valley

Toji Fushiguro woody-resin fragrance with animalistic notes and tobacco (he smokes, his hands and clothes smell of strong cigarettes)

Junpei Yoshino ylang-ylang, cumin, cucumber

Mahito something incongruous, for example, the smell of moisture and sweet rot of autumn leaves, a diluent for oil paints in combination with patchouli or vanilla

Yuuta Okkotsu jasmine tea, soy wax, juniper

Toge Inumaki fennel, rosemary, sea buckthorn leaves

Nobara Kugisaki I don't associate with anything other than perfume Funny by Moschino

Maki Zenin watery violet fragrance

Momo Nishimiya peony, freesia, geranium, amber, frankincense, powder (oh, no, Mai, it's not grandma's perfume, it's called a mystical witch fragrance)

Mai Zenin white pineapple strawberries, tobacco dust and cloves

Kasumi Miwa is something powdery, delicate and barely perceptible iris or verbena

Noritoshi Kamo woody earthy fragrance with a hint of salt and almonds. his hands smell of suede, ink and coffee beans

Kokichi Muta ozone, bigaradia, nutmeg, licorice and musk

Aoi Todo perfumed deodorant with lime, nutmeg, basil and chamomile tea (to calm the rage in the chest in the spa evening)

Kirara Hoshi patchouli, rose and chocolate shampoo

Kinji Hakari iron, spruce, red apple and fire smoke

Mimiko Hasaba vanilla, apricot, wormwood

Nanako Hasaba geranium, rosehip, cinnamon

Nitta Akari rice water, pomegranate, grapefruit, red currant berries

Nitta Arata lavender, cardamom, walnut, lemon

Yorozu red wine, wild honey, rice, ginger cookies

Hajime Kashimo aquatic fragrance, chrysanthemum, bamboo

Naoya Zenin sandalwood, powdered sugar, caramel, salt

Haruta Shigemo fir, tangerine, lime, bitter chocolate, salty-sweet popcorn

Dagon land, mud, sea

Jogo wet burnt wood, mango, gasoline

Hanami fresh grass, garden flowers after rain

Kiyotaka Ijichi cocoa, tobacco, cloves, amber

Ino Takuma guaiac wood, vetiver, bergamot, lemon

Atsuya Kusakabe aquatic or woody fragrance with tea tree

Hana Kurusu powdery mimosa

Ryu Nishikori copaifera balsam, pine resin, clary sage, pineapple and burnt caramel

Takako Uro gunpowder, lemongrass, blackberry, leather notes

I think to end the thread on this note, it turned out to be longer than I expected. In any case, it was fun for me to pick up fragrances for the characters, relying on my olfactory memory, rather than adjusting to personal preferences (this was especially difficult with Naoya's fragrance😅)

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scarredwithcruelintentions · 7 days

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chapter 7: sorrowful lash

Find the master list here!

CW: Allusions to past trauma.

W/C: 1,835

A/N: A shorter chapter this time.

Astarion rolled over, a pain unlike any he’d experienced in his two hundred years as a spawn cleaving his skull. He recognized the symptoms of a hangover, shocked to find that he could still develop one as a vampire. Though, he supposed he had drunk quite a bit to numb the shocking sting of your rejection. He moaned his discomfort, blinking blearily against the sun’s rays penetrating his tent as he sat up. He gave himself a moment to gather his bearings and then parted its flaps, wincing at the sudden increase in brightness.

Looking around the grounds, he was surprised to find them all but deserted. He could hear Karlach humming somewhere nearby, and smelled the unnaturally dark ozone of Gale on the breeze. He could not, however, find anything more than the faint fragrance of you that lingered on your belongings. It appeared as though you’d left for the day, and a sense of panic washed over him as the events of the evening prior came to the forefront of his mind.

Gods, what have I done? I’ve ruined it!

He caught sight of Karlach in his peripheral vision, head whipping around to glare at her.

“Where’ve they gone?” he snapped, voice harsher than he’d meant it to be.

“Aw, cheer up, Soldier! She’ll be back before you know it,” she chirped with a grin, taking no offense at his sour tone.

“And just what in the bloody Hells is that supposed to mean?” he snarled, bristling with embarrassment at her knowing expression.

“You’re daft if you truly believe we don’t all see it, Astarion,” was all she said in response, bright smile still residing on her face. She continued her trek onward, whistling a jaunty tune.

“That’s not a damn answer!” he shouted after her.

She only continued to whistle as she walked out of his line of sight.

He huffed his annoyance, then retreated back into his tent, yanking the furs of his bedroll up over his head.

Apparently, it was to be another very long and arduous day. ______________________________________________________________

The next time he popped his head out, the dusk was already losing its battle for the sky to the blanket of night. He was relieved to see Shadowheart and Lae’zel making nice over a shared meal, Wyll laughing heartily with Gale as Karlach told impassioned tales of her adventures in the Hells. His eyes continued to scan the campgrounds, looking for any sign of you and finding none. He could smell that you’d made it back, but could not locate your whereabouts among the other companions. A warning bell tolled in his mind, anxiety tightening its chokehold on his unbeating heart.

He crept silently from his tent, following your scent as it gradually intensified. He found you sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree by the riverbank, knees drawn to your chest and arms hugging them close. He marveled at the glow of the waxing moon on your skin, sleeves of your nightdress falling to expose your shoulders. Your hair rippled gently with the breeze, reminding him of the water as it ran over and between hidden stones. You gazed out into the waiting darkness, eerily silent.

“I’d ask if you wanted company, but I doubt you’ve come all the way out here to find it,” he called out, grimacing guiltily when you startled.

When the frantic beating of your heart had slowed to a normal pace again, he took stock of your expression. There was a weary mournfulness burdening your gaze, and he was briefly arrested in his movement by just how terribly sad you looked. You said nothing, but moved to make room for him to sit next to you.

“Just needed some space to think, ‘s all,” you whispered, voice strangely devoid of emotion.

He wrung his hands uneasily, a million worries about what might have caused your strife darting through his mind.

“About last night -” he began, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“I don’t need apologies. As I’ve said before, it’s not you. Yours was far from the first bed I’d declined at the party.”

That drove an unwitting chuckle from him, quickly hushing himself at the unimpressed raise of your brow.

“I may have overheard several…propositions, shall we say, for a night of shared ecstasy,” he explained.

You cracked a small smile, momentarily loosening the grip around his heart.

“Eavesdropping, were you?” you questioned, amusement plain.

“Perhaps,” was his only reply.

You looked away again, staring unseeingly at the horizon.

Without turning to address him directly, you asked in a cold, distant tone, “Then why did you try your luck? What makes you think you’re any different?”

The grip around his heart tightened once again, breath catching in his throat and dizzying him with its sudden ferocity. Words failed him as a sense of burning shame enveloped him.

“I see the way each one of you looks at me. Admiration, adoration, idolatry…lust. As though I’m something to be consumed, a bottomless well of giving. A savior from your many sins. Have I not my own to atone for as well? Am I not due an ounce of respect for all I’ve sacrificed to get us this far?”

Though your words carried the weight of long held anger, they fell from your lips with a lifeless monotony. He hastily opened his mouth - to explain or apologize, he knew not which - but you began to speak again.

“I suppose it matters not. I am whatever I am perceived to be. No more, no less.”

A haunting echo of his own emotions reverberated dully within his skull; he knew this pain. Had lived with it for too long himself. He lost himself in the roar of agony between his ears for a time, startling when he heard a quiet sniffle.

“Forgive me,” you whispered, breath hiccupping with sorrow.

Finding his voice, he murmured, “Dearest, there is nothing to forgive. It is I who should be asking your forgiveness, once again. I would lie and say it was the wine talking, but I find that I can’t when it comes to you.”

He was surprised by his own honesty, words falling from him with an ease he was unaware he possessed. You turned to look at him shrewdly, tears spilling as you narrowed your eyes to discern his truthfulness. You said nothing, wordlessly urging him to continue. He took a shaking breath, steadying himself.

“You have shown me kindness unlike anyone I’ve met in the whole of my life, both before I was turned and after. You have no expectations of me, have given me no reason to believe that your motives lie elsewhere. You are simply lovely, just for the sake of being so.

I, too, have been wanted for things I was unprepared to give, and have been forced to give them anyway. It is a burden I would not wish upon anyone, least of all you. So, please, forgive me. I am not well versed in matters of sentient interaction beyond those of carnal depravity.”

You sucked in a gasping breath as he finished his monologue, and he turned sharply to look at you just as a great sob pushed past your lips. An icy shard of dread punched through him at the sound, fearful he’d said something wrong yet again. He watched your hands twist in the fabric of your nightdress just over your heart, clawing as though you could rip the wretched thing from your chest just so that this torment, whatever it may be, might end.

“Have I done it wrong again?” he whispered, nerves making his voice tremble.

You only cried harder, despair leaking freely from you and into the recesses of his soul, a reflection of your pain mirrored in him with its intensity. He was at a loss as to how to comfort you, never having seen you so distraught. Something urged him to reach out to you, to hold you and pet through the strands of your hair soothingly until you quieted. But another voice, louder and more ominous, told him that he should not touch you just yet. It screamed that you knew exactly of what he spoke, knew it in a way he dared not fathom.

He began to hum the lament of yours that he so loved, unsurely at first, then with more fervor. It had helped him in his darkest moment of weakness; he could only hope that it would help you much the same. Your fitful sobs gradually turned into hiccups, sniffles and then silence as you came back to yourself, listening intently to your favored tune whispered back to you. You eventually reached out to clasp his hand in yours, placing a sweet kiss on the back of it in thanks.

You gestured at the space between you and him, asking quietly, “May I?”

He wordlessly held his arm aloft, inviting you to sidle closer as he continued to hum your song. You folded into his arms, resting your head against his chest to feel the rumble of his voice. He reached a hand up and into your soft tresses, blunt nails scraping along your scalp as he sang the last phrase. A contented silence fell in its wake, one hand running idly through your hair as you held the other.

You eventually broke it with a quiet apology.

“Whatever are you sorry for now, my sweet?” he murmured, continuing his slow, soothing ministrations.

“That you’ve been used that way,” you whispered back, cautious of breaking the fragile moment.

“Ah, that. Think nothing of it, darling. If anything, it’s taught me to cherish these moments of freedom all the more.”

“Nonetheless, it’s an awful burden to carry,” you responded forlornly.

“It is one of many that weighs on me, but it is far from the worst,” he intoned, voice bitter and solemn.

“I am always here to lend an ear, should you ever need it, dear Star.”

“Perhaps one day,” he answered, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

The lull in conversation preceded another blanket of comfortable silence, and he listened to the sound of your breath mingled with the night ambiance. It was serene, startlingly so, to hold you close and offer you the same sanctuary you’d given him so freely. An uncharacteristic tenderness overwhelmed him, and he clutched you ever so slightly tighter, as though this beautiful dream were liable to shatter around him at any moment.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence for a final time.

“We found the gith creche today. I’m taking Lae and Shadowheart with me tomorrow to infiltrate it. Lae insists that the zaith’isk will cure us, but I have my reservations. Besides, I found a reference as to the Blood of Lathander’s whereabouts, and I have reason to believe it might be hidden somewhere in the temple the gith commandeered. Would you like to join us and cause some chaos?”

“My dear, there’s nothing I’d love more.”

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gravehags · 6 months

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GHOULETTES AS PERFUMES I OWN (or have samples of)

~~~

Cirrus - Coven by Andrea Maack

This is a gorgeous forest fragrance with notes of soil, green grass, oak moss, and whiskey. It smells like wandering too deep in the woods one night and stumbling upon something you were not meant to see.

Notes: soil tincture, green grass, oak moss, whiskey, spicy notes, woody notes

Cumulus - Incense Rose by Tauer Perfumes

This is a gorgeous, heady amber scent with the very slightest hint of floral. Lush and dark like fucking in a church surrounded by myrrh, resins, and roses left as offerings. Sacred filth.

Top notes: Bulgarian rose, clementine, cardamom, bergamot

Middle notes: castoreum, orris root

Base notes: incense, myrrh, resins, Texas cedar, vetiver, labdanum, patchouli

Sunshine - Electric Sky by Tory Burch

This is a bright, ozonic scent reminiscent of standing in an herb garden just as it starts sun showering and the drops and beams of light hit your face. Notes of blue sage, violet, lavender are fresh and green while palo santo gives the scent warmth.

Top notes: blue sage, violet

Middle notes: cactus flower, lavender

Base notes: palo santo, vetiver

Aurora - Black Currant Rose by Heretic Parfums

This is a grown up rose scent, a don’t fuck with me even though I’m 4’11” rose scent. A sexy “call me princess one more time I dare you” scent. Bergamot and geranium enrich damask rose and currant leaves, with just a hint of juicy raspberry.

Top notes: bergamot, grapefruit, geranium

Middle notes: damask rose, currant buds

Base notes: raspberry

Mist - Baie 19 by Le Labo

My new fragrance obsession. This smells like a storm on a forested seashore, the ocean spray mixing with the berries and leaves of the wood as clouds churn above you. Patchouli and juniper berries blend with ozonic notes giving that fresh, almost aquatic scent.

Notes: patchouli, ozonic notes, juniper berries, green leaves, musk, ambroxan

#the way i need gallon of baie 19 and incense rose #i also think mountain would really like coven #nameless ghoulettes #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #mist ghoulette #the band ghost

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izanazqueen · 1 month

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(izana's scent is divinity-i want to drown in him forever) 🙏🏼

- first note: instant hit of intense scent of LILY and lily of the valley with an undertone of light lavender and rosemary.

- second note: getting close to the skin breathe wave of lime and ozone with a delicate tone of eucalyptus and rosewood.

- final note: the fragrance fades out to amber and sensual musk with a hints of patchouli these are all muted.

-a clean airy fresh aroma that is easy on the senses with a peculiar intensity and robustness from the earthy cool scents. formal and very seductive for any part of the year leaving you with the lasting essence of spring-time.🤍

#tokyo revengers #izana kurokawa #kurokawa izana #tokrev #tenjiku

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dempaboya · 9 months

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last post inspired me to seek out fragrances that were made specifically with electronics, electricity or machines in mind! ive made a list. it has a def bias towards things that remind me of y2k/2000s tech/still machinery (tried to mostly steer away from motor oil smells and futuristic notes) bc of what ive got going on so if youre into that this list is for you. list gets more pure electronic-y metallic-y as it goes on i think idk i havent sampled any of these

• bitch arcade by alphamusk

description: overheated dance dance revolution, rubbery worn down carpet, serious static from the vintage pac-man game, ticket stubs, sweaty candy-coated palms

• pc heat by alphamusk

description: puffs of heated electrical wires within warm plastics and heated metals and slight notes of rubber coatings

• tune in by alphamusk

description: post lightning storm static bursts the ozone of dust, sweet grass, flickering tungsten light bulbs, sun kissed garden lemon balm and basil still damp from the rain, fresh soil

• yo6-s by blackbird

description: banana, electronics, agarwood, jasmine and milk

• extreme computer death by smelly yeti

description: singed yet chemically sweet plastic and frazzled wire, brightened by a hint of fizzy cola and bitter red currant, with a puff of acrid smoke which leaves a coppery afterimage in your nostrils

• electricity (sn) by death and floral (in unlisted scents)

[no description found]

• android by aether arts perfume

description: synthetic sheath accord, inner fluids accord, warm power source accord

• machine learning by aether arts perfume

description: aether accord, metallic accord, power source accord

• synthetic sex by aether arts perfume

description: virtual space accord, warm metal accord, seriously sexual accord

• touchstone by aether arts perfume

description: the idea of a cell phone into perfume. aether accord, flashes of color accord, metal and mineral accord

got most of them from this spread so if none of these are for you or you want to see a more broad list of industrial-ish machinelike fragrances here you go https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1A-MowNDCj3xpoYuCZzJW0OlocGM1UTQAPLwZPB3kctg/htmlview#gid=0

#machinekin #techkin #alterhuman #robotkin #analogkin #computerkin

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krscblw · 4 months

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ghoul perfume associations pt. 3!

more ghoul perfume associations bc ghost and perfume are my two main hobbies! all of these are indie/niche perfumes because those are the types of perfume i'm mainly into. these lists are really fun for me and i would love to hear what people think!!

also, jsyk: because this post is so long, some of the text might get cut off on mobile. it should be okay on desktop if that happens (i don't know how to fix it, sorry :/)

Aeon

Notes: non-sweet chocolate, linen, lavender

Perfumes:

Autumn Morning - Pulp Fragrance

hot chocolate, slightly spiced oatmeal, carnations, a cozy blanket

Twice To Tea - Poesie

strong earl grey tea, lavender absolute, vanilla syrup, a splash of milk

Aether

Notes: bourbon, amber, vanilla

Perfumes:

Not A Deer - Little & Grim

cedarwood, chestnuts, sandalwood, maple, oak, tonka, suede, clove, spiced vanilla, amber, tobacco

Loggia - Solstice Scents

“High above the village, a castle sits shrouded in a heavy gray mist. Muted moonlight illuminates its upper terraces. Thick with incense smoke, the loggia swells with invited guests, each heavily cloaked and masked. Laughter, violas and a harpsichord fill the night. Wine flows from never-ending mahogany vats. Exotic spices drape the air in fragrant bouquets. A bell rings from the archway, and all in attendance fall silent as the master of the night creatures crosses the paving stones...”

mahogany, sweet amber, musk, dark incense, deep vanilla bean, sandalwood, cardamom, black pepper, cognac and allspice

(i have this one and it's great, perfect for aether imo)

Alpha

Notes: leather, smoke, gunpowder

Perfumes:

Spiritus Fumosus - Alkemia

volcanic basalt, smelted metal ores, amberwood, smokey birch tar, old leather, galbanum, white oud, gray amber, petrichor, wet sand, bergamot, sichuan peppercorn, gingergrass, white patchouli

Deus ex Machina - Alkemia

“An olfactory portrait of industrial decay and the fallen gods of age of disruption, innovation, and technological revolution.”

fire-hardened steel, rusted iron, motor oil, wet cement, burnt copper wires, gray amber

Cirrus

Notes: dark fruits, musk, heavy florals, honey

Perfumes:

Virgo - Deconstructing Eden

dark amber, bulgarian rose absolute, lavender maillette, orris root, benzoin, dark fruits, bourbon vanilla

Eglantine House - Deconstructing Eden

honeyed roses, mahogany, plums, amber accord, champaca flowers, eglantine roses, white musk

Cumulus

Notes: lilac, magnolia, jasmine, sugar, cold air

Perfumes:

Midnight Garden - Alkemia

night-flowering white flowers – tuberose, lily, honeysuckle, gardenia, moonflower

Calliope - Alkemia

clementine, orange blossoms, white orchid, sugared currants, tonka, and vanilla musk, cotton candy, saltwater taffy

Dewdrop

Notes: berries, smoke, spices, metal

Perfumes:

Unrequited - Deconstructing Eden

black sandalwood, raspberries, bitter orange, black pepper, smooth silky musk, dark amber, smoky patchouli

Lightning Storm - Nui Cobalt Designs

Petrichor, ozone, electrified metal, cold musk, bergamot, lime zest, cracked pink peppercorn, copal smoke, myrrh, teakwood

(this one represents dew as a water ghoul – citrus, spices, ozone, and metal. sweet, cold, and a little bitter)

Ifrit

Notes: black tea, incense, spices

Perfumes:

Tasseomancy - Nui Cobalt Designs

black tea spritzed with orange, incense smoke clinging to heavy velvet curtains, fireplace embers, cinnamon, clove

Tasseomancy - LVNEA

bergamot, black tea, lapsang souchong, honey, spices, milk

(yes they are both called the same thing. he's a guy with a brand i don't know what to tell you)

Mist

Notes: water, herbs, ice

Perfumes:

Eisheth - Deconstructing Eden

seawater, herbs - rosemary, mint, clary sage, bergamot, hyssop, lemongrass, and verbena, white tea

Blackwater Lake - Osmofolia

“Short-needle pine branches hang over mossy lake rocks, radiant white water lilies soak in the sun, the surface of the dark lake water ripples above submerged northern watermilfoil, and a chill in the air warns of impending autumn.”

pine needles, cold wind, northern watermilfoil, white water lilies, moss, stone, lake water

Mountain

Notes: vetiver, plants, earth, mushrooms

Perfumes:

Poor Farm - Little & Grim

“Overgrown grass, tangled undergrowth, wildflowers, the memory of fresh linens, and distant, greener pastures.”

moss, sage, ferns, sweet grasses, green wood, and chamomile

Mycelium - Treading Water Perfume

“Rounding the corner it came into view, the being that had terrorized the village for decades. It sat terrifyingly still on top of natural rock formation that resembled some strange amalgamation of an altar. An altar not made by human hands but as if created by the forest itself to honor this being. The being was here long before the village and it will continue to be here long after we are gone.”

soil, mushrooms, patchouli, black currants, hinoki wood

Nimbus/Aurora*

Notes: peach, rose, earth

Perfumes:

The Lover Tells Of The Rose - Alkemia

wild roses, lemon verbena, white pearl tea leaves, delicate white patchouli, new greens, wet moss

Apothecary Rose - LVNEA

rose gallica, rose de mai, damask rose, tarragon, violet leaf, apricot, labdanum, myrrh

*i headcanon nimbus as a earth/air multi

Omega

Notes: wood, amber, tobacco

Perfumes:

Danse Macabre - Fyrinnae

sandalwood, amber, labdanum, vanilla, woodsmoke, smoldering logs

Leo - Deconstructing Eden

frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, amber, liatrix, blood cedar, blond tobacco absolute, sweet spices, honey

(i have this one and i love it, it's very warm and resinous)

Rain

Notes: seawater, ozone, vanilla

Perfumes:

Ambre Gris - Alkemia

“A rare blend of proprietary perfumery ingredients carefully oxidized by sunlight, sand, air, sea salt, water, and ocean minerals. The result is as changeable and morphing as the ocean... earthy, sweet, musky, saline.”

gray ambergris, ocean minerals, sea salt

Cerulea - OSMOFOLIA

“A synesthesia perfume inspired by a color. Sapphire ocean blue with flashes of turquoise and glistening white.”

osmanthus, ambergris, sea salt, ocean water, tuberose, cucumber

Sunshine/Stratus**

Notes: strawberries, citrus, vanilla, spices

Perfumes:

In Love with Everything - Imaginary Authors

“This extremely versatile (and genderless!) fragrance is great for any time of day and any time of year but the blast of energy it possesses is ideal for whenever you’re feeling low or looking for a little boost of bliss to keep your body moving and your lungs laughing long into the night.”

raspberry, citrus pulp, coconut palm sugar, madame isaac pereire, sandalwood, tropical punch, stardust

(i have this one! it's very fruity, you definitely get the fruit punch, but it still has a good amount of depth)

Eos - Fantôme

“Eos is named for the goddess of dawn—who beckons the daybreak with her rosy fingers. This perfume smells like the color of the sunrise; pink and gold light breathing life into the morning dew.”

tart lemonade, raspberries, candied rose petals, wild berries, a hint of ginger

**i headcanon sunny as a fire/air multi

Swiss***

Notes: smoke, musk, patchouli, incense

Perfumes:

Black Heart - Spirit & Venom

dark patchouli, clove, caramel pipe tobacco

Scorpio - Deconstructing Eden

“The fixed water sign of the zodiac, Scorpios are sensitive and intense, complicated and multi-layered. This blend is deep, still water, with notes of humid air and just the barest touch of mud.”

white and pink lotus absolute, orris root, myrrh, patchouli, gray musk, still water

***i headcanon swiss as a fire/water multi

Zephyr

Notes: dust, ozone, faint sweet musk, mint, cool air

Perfumes:

Walking with a Ghost - Spirit & Venom

“Light & ethereal musk, fresh harvest pear, a whiff of perfume from a loved one long passed.”

Aquarius - Deconstructing Eden

air, an undercurrent of water, sparkling aldehydes

if you made it this far, thank you for reading! and i would love to hear your thoughts!! (/gen - do you have any recommendations? do you agree/disagree? i love talking abt this) (also thank you sm to @midnight-moth for recommending lvnea!!)

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #ghoul perfume thoughts #perfume thoughts

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