Pure Intent Novels & Stories

As if something was getting into his head and imposing its weight. “Don’t be an idiot.” – Pure says in his mind. – “The witchcraft that that woman puts in your head is starting to disappear.” “What witchcraft? The maidan would never hurt me. You’re an idiot.” Pure rolls his eyes. At that moment he was perhaps the only wolf in the world who rolled his eyes.

"Because violinists know about possession. About being possessed by the music, by the composer, by the bow. They understand that the self is… optional. That you can be a vessel. Empty, and therefore perfect." She walked to a case in the corner. Opened it. A violin inside, old, valuable. She didn’t touch it. Just looked. "Y-3—her real name was Zhang Lili—she wanted to be possessed. She wanted to disappear into the music. I helped her. I taught her that the Zhang Lili who wanted to be seen, who wanted applause, who wanted love—that Zhang Lili was vulgar. Obscene. But the vessel, the empty body that moved the bow… that was art. That was pure."

“Exactly. Intent can go wrong if it’s not fully thought out.” “Meaning intent is more like the end of a chess game rather than a child’s tantrum.” “I’d say those are two extremes, but yes, often magic cast by those that don’t learn properly or are in a hurry can have outcomes that can be described as a child’s tantrum. Jealousy, hate, envy, and anger have no place within that intent.” “They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I guess that’s the reason. Purity of intent.” Becky appeared fully intrigued by the conversation. “So, what do we need to do? What things do we need?”

Garrett’s eyes flickered. "Grandson?" Garrett asked. "You brought the boy?" "He is safe," I said. "Far away from your needles and your cages." "You misunderstand me Elara," Garrett said. He took a sip of his drink. "Project Purity is not about cages. It is about freedom. Freedom from the curse." "It is not a curse," Kael spoke up. His voice was deep and rumbling. "It is a gift." Garrett looked at Kael with disdain.

The Fairy Doctor swayed on her feet, a look of disbelief on her face. However, she quickly remembered that they were competing based on the purity of the pill. For a Blood Energy Pill that had been refined in ten minutes, even if it barely turned into a pill, the purity of it would definitely be a mess. It was no different than a failure. The lower the purity of the pill, the more erysipelas would be contained in it. If the purity were below 60%, the pill would be unqualified, and no one would dare to use it.

But its ok i can get a little bit of that Aima. Assalamualaikum🙋🏼 .Intentions play a huge role in our faith. You'll be rewarded according to your intent. For a "pure" goal like your deed to be valid, the intent of the believer should be untainted, free of egoistic self interest. Otherwise this outward good deed is pointless with the Almighty! Stay positive spread positivity😃 Keep smiling☺ Love ya!!! Allah Hafiz_

Zip, zilch, nada. As I scrolled the screen, I watched it bounce back to the original state because there was absolutely nothing to scroll against. "What do you mean?" Came the sudden outraged cry of a female specimen in the cafeteria. I averted my gaze from my phone that was filled with loneliness and tried to find out what caused the ruckus. My gaze darkened when it settled on the Prime Empire's table. The brunette from earlier was on her feet, fire burning in her eyes. Amusement at her demeanor flew in the air between the members of the Prime.

I need her ruined. She has no idea how carefully I have been molding her. Every soft touch. Every time I let her feel my hardness but pulled away. It is all part of the plan. I whisper scripture while I corrupt her mind. I praise her purity while I make her drip like a whore. She thinks I am saving her. In truth, I am shaping her into exactly what I crave. Tonight will be the night. No more holding back. I will fuck her until she forgets her own name. Until the only prayer she knows is my cock sliding in and out of her.

We’re being asked to stand adjacent to a system that interprets them differently. That’s harder. Someone says what everyone is thinking. “Are we being purists?” The word lands sharply. Purism is often a disguise for fear or superiority. I don’t want that. But I also don’t want to dismiss the discomfort. I respond slowly. “I don’t think this is about purity,” I say. “I think it’s about drift.” Drift doesn’t announce itself. It accumulates. One compromise that makes sense. Another that feels temporary. Until you look up and realize your reflexes have changed.

"You realize you're complicit in the deaths of hundreds of people? Children?" "I know. I have to live with that every day." His hands shook slightly. "I can't undo what I did. But I can stop the Benefactor from doing it again. That's why I'm here. These records prove the Purist movement was never grassroots. It was manufactured. Funded by someone with unlimited resources and specific goals." "What goals?"