#this was my first time making my own pattern

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

summary: your bestfriend minho just wants you to see desperately in love he is with you

warnings: mentions of sex, past relationships, omegaverse mentions of heat and knots

part i • part iii here

Upon entering your apartment, you make a beeline for the couch plopping down, letting your mind run over everything that had happened. Your last ‘heat’ cycle had been several months ago and you feared what havoc the next cycle would wreck on your body if you didn’t find an alpha who met the basic standards of human decency. Too many guys you had met either by a friend of a friend or via omega finder apps lead to complete and total assholes who had little regard for how a heat cycle made you feel or in worst cases, those who had weird kinks with subservient omegas kneeling at their every whim. You grimaced remembering the one guy who insisted you wear a collar and leash for him… on the first date. Turning over on the couch screaming at the pillow beneath you.

Eventually, you found some strength to sleep in your bed. A quick nap turned into 5 hours, only waking at the buzzing of your phone.

“Hello?”

“Feeling any better?” Minho’s sweet voice echoed through the phone, “Did I wake you up?”

“Feeling better and yes but… my nap was much deeper then I anticipated.”

“Ah sorry, safe to assume you haven’t eaten yet?” Your stomach growled at the question.

“You would be right,” Swinging your legs over the bed to head for the bathroom.

“I have about an hour left in my shift, I’ll come by with food and we can watch a movie yeah?”

Your heart swooned at the idea, you keep your voice level as you respond.

“That sounds amazing, can you get Italian from that place across the street from you?”

“Of course, the usual?”

“Yes, please, I love you, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

He lets a soft chuckle as he mutters an ‘I know’ before telling you he’d be there in an hour or so. It gave you enough time to settle in for a bath, deep scrubbing your skin, hair, and face till you felt smooth again. You took the time to comb out your hair, picking out a set of clothes for your movie night with Minho because undoubtedly, you always fell asleep together on the couch. He always ended up staying the night but subconsciously you felt more inclined to look nice? No that would be ridiculous, for him to suddenly change his perspective of you because what? You put on the cute black cat patterned pajama shorts that he got you for Christmas accompanied by the matching cat paw socks and the sweater he left out your place one night that you had taken hostage of claiming as your own since it smelled like him…

There’s a gentle knock at the door indicating Minho was here, you open the door to see him wearing a black knit sweater and grey sweats holding a bag of take out. You could see the faintest out line of his c-

“I got your favorite, Carbonara with a Shirley Temple soda, where should I set it down?” He asked as he walked in.

“Coffee table is good, let me grab my laptop,” You said rushing out of the living room into your bedroom to grab the laptop along with a plethora of blankets and pillows.

He waited till you left the room before grabbing the hoodie by your door and rubbing his scent glands all over it. Along with the blanket and pillows set on the couch, he knew that If you even dared to bring someone home tomorrow night, they’d have to work past his scent and mark on every fabric of your place first. He sat down smugly opening the bag of food as you returned oblivious to what he had done in the few moments you were gone. He takes in your appearance, and the clothes you’re wearing, everything is from him, he hides his smirk as you take your place beside him. He watches the way your nose twitches as you take one of the blankets he had just rubbed himself all over.

“Jesus, Minho, did you just run ten miles? All I can smell is you…”

“Ah sorry must’ve been from carrying all the shipments in today, do you want to crack a window?”

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind…” 

You really didn’t mind, his scent was warm like vanilla and cinnamon but grounded in something earthy like sandalwood. It brought you a sense of comfort and peace, always making you forget anything you had on your mind allowing you to only be consumed by him and his presence.

The two of you eat, talking about his work and the upcoming classes you had for your master's program. He was a dance major and you were an English literature major, just two people with a love of the arts in different ways. You spent the night watching comedy movies, Minho’s pick, they weren’t his favorite but he loved to hear your loud cackle or the snorts or when you were tired the soft giggles that shook your shoulders. Eventually, you found yourselves entangled in each other on the couch, he laid back bringing you into his arms with your head laid on his chest, when he knew you were asleep based on the soft snores, he rubbed his scent glad into your hair knowing the slightest wind would waft the smell. He should just get off his chest now and profess his undying love, how he’s been in love with you since you two were twelve but he couldn’t in fear he’d lose an entire friendship over it. Rather having you in his life as a friend then not at all was a deep fear of his. But, so was losing you to someone else…

part iii here

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

ahhh i read all of your works they are so good. also may please request a "how can you still trust me after everything i've done" with an fem!reader with either 🩺 and/or "i've never met someone as infuriating as you and i can't stop thinking about you" with ⚔️? thank you so much! have a good day!

Hi @beachaddict48 ! Here's the second part of your request! I do hope you like this one! Thank you for asking!

Source for pic

Trust

Word Count: 4934

Tags: fem!reader; modern world AU; mafia; blood; threats; torture; slight angst;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Doflamingo thinks Law is betraying his trust, and what better way to make him confess than by torturing you?

Notes: Ooff, I feel like I need to really get to these requests, but everytime I start to write one I go: oh well, I'll keep this short, around 1k words, or so... IT'S NEVER SHORT! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, even though I'm so not happy with the ending...

|Masterlist|

“He's not going to give you what you want, Doflamingo. He's not a traitor, you're just wasting our time.”

You have only been in Donquixote Doflamingo's office once. That one time, you noted the opulence of such a room. The tidy desk, the vintage whisky bottles in the corner, some more expensive than a car, the sleek, glistening leather of the chairs. You also noticed that the room exuded something other than opulence: danger. You didn't quite know why, apart from the presence of the man who owned it, but the air was thick with it. 

But now you know. 

The ropes binding your wrists seem to get tighter by the second, your heart pounds against your chest in such an erratic way that you're almost positive the blond man can hear it. The leather chair has been replaced by a cold metal one, with plastic beneath its feet. At first, you didn't understand why he needed the plastic, but once he took out his knife, it all made sense. 

Doflamingo doesn't want to make a mess in his office. 

And it seems you're about to become one. 

“See, that's where you're wrong, princesa. In my book, the time spent setting out a trap to catch a rat is time well spent.”

Doflamingo caresses your cheek with long, cold fingers. His crimson eyes glint behind tinted glasses, and the mixture of the sweet scent of his cologne and the metallic tang of your blood makes your stomach churn with revulsion. 

“Law's not a rat.”

“We'll see about that.” He straightens, his lips curling into a thin smirk as he opens the door to his office to let his nephew in. “Come in, Law. I have a surprise.”

You stifle a gasp behind your teeth, your wrists twisting instinctively as you try to reach your boyfriend, to touch him. The effort only makes the rope’s bite harsher. The plastic beneath your bare feet sticks to them, the blood trickling down your leg, creating swirling patterns and tiny pools. 

Law's golden gaze falls on you, and you see it. His control silently slipping. It's something quite small, barely noticeable, but it's there. It's in the slight clenching of his jaw; it's in the way he opens and closes his hand; and it's definitely in the flicker of anger that flashes in his eyes as he directs his gaze back to his uncle. 

“What is the meaning of this? Why is she under questioning?” At least his voice still carries its edge and calm composure, though you, who know him like the back of your hand, can detect the barest trace of hate. 

“Oh, but she's not, Law. You are.” Doffy's chuckle is low and unnerving, his chest trembling slightly as he places his hand in the pocket of the trousers of his perfectly pressed pink suit. 

“I'm not following, Uncle.”

Law shifts, his gaze searching yours again, a shadow of pain darkens the gold, and you take a deep breath, trying to smile through your suffering as to reassure him. He's assessing your wounds, but Doflamingo was merely playing with you before: a slash on your leg, a shallow cut on your arm, a trickle of blood on your collarbone. Law takes it all in, his throat bobbing up and down as he tries to steady his own breathing. He needs to be strong for what's to come. 

“You see, Law, it has come to my attention that I am being betrayed. Someone is spilling my secrets to the police, and we can't have that, can we?” You focus on the glint of the knife tapping against Doflamingo's chin, using the rhythmic motion to try to steady your uneven breathing. 

It doesn't work. 

“I'm going to assume you’ve exhausted all other options before deciding that I should be the one under scrutiny and my girlfriend the one under torture?” He can't disguise it now, even though you know he's trying to stay controlled, you can hear the growl behind his words, the leashed anger, ready to snap. 

“Believe me, Law, I wish it weren’t like this.”

You know Doflamingo is a master deceiver, but the way he delivers his words almost makes you believe he actually regrets this. 

With a heavy sigh, the intimidating Donquixote steps closer to you, and each tap of his expensive shoes sounds like another nail in your coffin. 

“I trust you, Law.” You whisper. 

-*-

It was a freaking deluge. The rain was pouring nonstop, the light and blissful pitter-patter having turned into heavy, merciless drops in mere seconds. Your hands held your purse above your head, trying to shield some of the relentless rain away as you rushed to find shelter. 

You heard it before you felt it. The screeching tires, the wet sound of soaked concrete. And then blinding pain as you were hit before collapsing on the ground. 

Everything hurt, and you barely registered as the car drove away, its driver giving no thought to what might happen to you. 

You remember thinking this was how you would die. Having a lifetime of regrets and barely a handful of life achievements. 

This was how you'd go. 

“Hang in there, help is on the way.” His voice sounded distant, but it was so measured and gravelly that it managed to ground you enough for you to focus on his eyes. 

The most hauntingly beautiful eyes you've ever seen, an amber light in the darkness that enveloped you. 

“Am I going to die?” It wasn't fear that brought up the question, it was deep-seated regret. 

“Not on my watch.”

And he was right. He didn't let you die, he helped you before the ambulance arrived, disturbing the rain with its blinding lights and filling the night with its echoing sirens. 

But all you could hear was his voice, and all you could see were his eyes. 

-*-

The tip of the knife presses against the hollow of your throat, Doflamingo's fingers hovering over your pulse point, feeling how scared you are. 

Little does he know, you're not frightened for your life. 

It's Law's life that worries you. 

“Stop this, Doflamingo. I'm not the one you're looking for.” Law's voice trembles slightly, and you hope his uncle blames it on his anger rather than on him being on the verge of confessing. 

“Sadly, I don't believe that. And I also know how much you care about your little charity case here.”

Law bares his teeth as blood starts dripping from the small puncture wound on your neck. You lock eyes with him, silently pleading for him to be strong. 

“You do know what I do to traitors, don't you, Law? It doesn't even matter if they're family or not…”

Law's breath shudders as he closes his eyes, and you know he's reliving the worst moment of his life: the moment his other uncle, the man who raised him, who made him believe in love again, was murdered in cold blood right in front of him. 

And how that broke him. 

“You're unstable, Doffy. Deranged and delusional.”

Doflamingo removes the sharp tip from your skin, and you let out a deep breath. But then, his fingers grip your hair as he pulls and tilts your head back with enough force to draw tears, the knife now resting horizontally against your throat. 

Yet you don't release a single sound. 

“Ohhh, I'm so much more than that, Law!” His cackle is maniacal, and the grip on your hair tightens. “I'm insane! But I have a reputation to keep and a business to maintain. I will not tolerate traitors!” He says it with such rage that you can feel drops of spittle hitting you in the face, making you flinch. “Are you the traitor, nephew?”

“He's not.” You answer for him, too afraid he'll let his heart take over and confess just to save you. 

“Shut up!” Doffy growls and yanks on your hair, making you gasp as the knife digs into your neck, crimson droplets spilling out and marring your collarbone. “I'm not talking to you, princesa.”

Law takes a step towards you, and you can see how coiled-tight he is, every movement restrained and controlled. 

“Doflamingo…” There's danger in Law's voice. The type of danger that would make lesser men flinch in fear and hesitate. But not Donquixote Doflamingo. 

He revels in it. 

“Just say the words, Law. Either prove me wrong and make me proud, or prove me right and be the same disappointment my brother was.”

Tears gather in the corner of your eyes, your heart clenching at the pain Law must be feeling. You can't let him say anything. 

You can't let him die. 

“Law, I trust you!” There's not much more you can say. 

You hope it's enough. 

-*-

“I can never trust you again, Law! I thought we were becoming something. I thought you were the one. I just… I never expected you to have so many secrets.”

You had been dating Law for almost a year, had practically moved into his flat. You loved him, and though he had yet to confess the same to you, you knew he loved you back. He was a man who showed his love with actions rather than words. 

But these actions spoke louder than any words ever could. 

“Are you going to explain what this is?” The high pitch in your voice almost made you flinch, and you could see your own hand trembling as you pointed to a wad of money, a burner phone, and a gun. All things you had found hidden in the back of a cabinet while looking for treats for Law's dog, Bepo. 

Law lowered his gaze, looking defeated and ashamed, two things you would never associate with him. 

And it nearly broke you. 

“I don't have a good explanation.”

“How about the truth, then?” 

Law groaned as he took a seat at the kitchen table, gesturing for you to do the same, only to be met with a huff and your arms crossing in defiance. 

“My uncle belongs to the mafia. Owns it, actually. All sorts of shady businesses you can imagine.” He chuckled darkly, a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes. “And then some.”

“And you?” You couldn't believe what you already knew to be true. Law was a doctor, he saved lives. He couldn't be taking them as well. He couldn't be part of this. He couldn't. 

Your eyes fell back on the gun, on the phone, on the money… 

“I…”

He didn't seem able to say anything else. And you had heard enough. You would never be able to trust him again. 

-*-

“I trust you, Law.” You hope he understands. He can't say anything. Not even if Doflamingo kills you. Law needs to be strong. 

Law grinds his teeth, his eyes locked with yours, burning with fury and determination. You smile at him. He's so strong. 

“I am not the traitor you're looking for, Uncle, but maybe I can help you find them. When you release my girlfriend and stop hurting her.” He takes a step towards Doflamingo, and you see the way his hands flex, like he wants to grab the man and yank him away from you. 

Doflamingo pauses for a moment, his grip loosening slightly as he seems to be lost in thought.

“It's not enough.” He whispers as he finally lets go of your hair. 

Law releases a breath and you gasp for air. 

Then Doflamingo stabs the knife into your shoulder, the blade coming down in a deliberate, arching motion, puncturing your muscle with a sickening sound. The pain is blinding, like nothing else. It radiates down your arm in waves, turning everything too bright and seemingly far away. The wound’s shallow and the knife doesn't seem to have hit anything critical. It’s meant to taunt, not kill. 

You taste blood as you bite your tongue to keep from crying out. You won't give him the satisfaction but mostly, you don't want Law to lose control. 

“Fuck! Doflamingo, stop this nonsense immediately!” Law takes a step forward, determination setting his pace as fury takes hold of him, but Doffy simply uses his other hand to reach for the gun on his back and point it at Law. 

“You stop right there, Law.” Law grunts and halts. You take deep, ragged breaths as your eyes focus back on him, on his gaze, on his pursed lips, and on his clenched jaw. 

“I'm fine…” You stutter. The knife still stands on your shoulder and you're bracing yourself for another wave of blind-hot pain when Doflamingo decides to pull it. 

“You're brave, little girl.” Doffy seems annoyed. “Not. One. Scream.” He emphasizes each word with a slight twist of the knife, and you can't stop the tears. Frankly, it's a miracle you're holding back your screams. “Are you going to speak, Law?”

“I fucking told you all I had to tell you, already! I'm not the one you're looking for! Release her, fuck!”

“You're lying!” Doflamingo shouts, his nostrils flaring in anger as he pulls the knife away from your shoulder, and you finally let out a scream. 

Law calls your name frantically, an urgency in his gaze and you force your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine, Law. I'm fine.” You manage to sputter between deep breaths. 

“FUCK!” Law kicks the chair in front of him and it rolls twice before hitting the desk and stopping. He's clearly seeing you're not fine. “Let her go, now!” He takes another step forward and Doflamingo clocks the trigger of the gun, the barrel still pointing straight into Law's head. 

The shiver that assaults you doesn't come from the blood loss. The small whimper that leaves your lips doesn't come from the pain. The tears marring your cheeks aren't for yourself. 

And Doflamingo knows all of this. 

His laugh starts slowly. A low rumble behind your head that crescendos to a manic chuckle, then to an outright insane cackle. 

“Oh, this is precious. This is so good!” Law's hands clench into fists, and he sways unevenly, both wanting to lunge forward and stop your bleeding and forcing himself to stay still so he doesn't anger his uncle anymore. “I've been doing this all wrong.”

Then he steps away from you, sidestepping the plastic so he doesn't get blood on his expensive shoes. Your breath comes out in shallow gasps, each one making the pain in your shoulder travel through your arm in painful throbs.  

Yet you have no time to consider whether the blood you're losing will kill you, because Doflamingo places one arm above Law's shoulders, the gesture familiar and taunting as he smiles at you. 

“She's very brave.” He says, pointing at you casually with his gun. “And you're a tough nut to crack.” He tsks as he turns his head towards Law, one finger pushing against Law's temple. “I can torture her all night, and she'll barely scream. And you're wound up so tight, she could be on her deathbed, and you'd still be in control of your emotions.”

Law's gaze never leaves you, and you're sure he's watching as you wince every time you breathe, as your breaths grow shallower and shallower. 

“Now, what happens if you're the one being tortured, Law?” The barrel of the gun presses against Law's temple, and your breath hitches, your brows furrowing tightly as you trap a gasp. “You won't scream, I know that, but look at her. Look at your little princesa. I bet you don't even need to scream for her to spill all your secrets. Am I right, mi querida?”

You stay silent, lips pursed and eyes locked on Law. 

“I trust you with my life, Law.”

-*-

“Please, just hear what I have to say.”

“You have said enough, Law.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you tried to close the door to your flat. Law’s foot remained wedged between the door and the doorframe, and you pushed further, not caring if you hurt him or not. “Oh, no, wait. You haven’t said anything. You didn’t deny my accusations, which, in a way, was worse.”

You stopped trying to close the door on him, the gesture futile because he was stronger than you. Lacing your arms around your body as if to shield you from his lies, you took two steps back, expecting Law to burst inside your house. Yet all he did was pry the door open, his hands resting on the doorframe as he slumped his shoulders, his head falling forward in such a defeated way you struggled to keep your heart in check. 

“That’s why I’m here. I want to explain it all to you. But I need you to be ready to listen to me.”

“Have you killed people, Law?”

His sigh was soul-shattering, and you gasped, hands flying to your mouth as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't know him, you didn’t know him at all!

“Can I come in?”

A ragged sob left your lips as you turned your back on him. “Fine.”

You didn’t turn to look at him, but you didn’t have to. The soft click of the door told you he had entered, but his presence always seemed to overwhelm everything else in the room. He hovered near you, yet he didn’t touch you or push your boundaries.

“I never killed anyone. But I never did anything to save them either. So, in a way, I’m an accomplice to those deaths.”

You could almost hear regret tinging his words. He sounded bitter, wounded, and grieved. But was he? 

“How many deaths?” His silence should tell you all you needed to know. “How many, Law?”

“Too many to keep track of.” 

You lost strength in your legs, your trembling hands finding purchase on the nearby table. No more trust, no more love. Could everything be over just like that? 

“Just… please, listen to what I have to say.”

You didn't answer him. But you didn’t stop him either. Instead you took a seat at the table, your head bowed down so as not to look into his hypnotizing amber eyes. 

He had already told you how his family died and how he was raised by his uncles. But he had never told you that his uncle Doflamingo had killed his own brother, Rosinante. You heard every word that Law decided to share with you, trying hard to keep your emotions at bay because you found it hard to hate the man you loved so much. Especially when he was baring his heart, his pain to you. 

He shared all about what his uncle did, the drugs he sold, the people he threatened, the high-profiled VIP’s he kept in his pockets, ready to be played like puppets on a string. Then he got into detail about what he did in the organization. And though he never killed anyone with his own hands, he had tortured and maimed enough to be haunted. 

“Why?” You asked, getting up and ready to throw him out of your house, out of your life for good. Even if you loved him with every fiber of your being. “Why are you still working for him when you know everything he does is evil?”

You watched as his throat bobbed up and down, his hands fidgeting with his phone: a burner phone.

Then his eyes bore into yours, and you couldn’t look away. Not when pain was so evident in them, but that was not what held you trapped in his gaze. It was hope.

No… it was…

“Because I’m spilling all his secrets to the police. I’ve been gathering evidence against him since he killed Cora. I’m going to bring him down, destroy his empire, destroy his mafia, destroy him.”

It was revenge.

-*-

“Trust? Trust is such a wasted sentiment, cariño.” Doffy chuckles before leaning in and whispering into Law’s ear. “She trusts you, Nephew, but do you trust her? Because I don’t. What I trust is that she will spill every little secret she holds dear to her heart once I start hurting you.”

“You wouldn’t!” You cry, using your outburst to release some pent-up pain from your shoulder. 

“Wouldn't what? Hurt my own family?” Another maniacal laugh escapes his lips. “You don’t know me at all, princesa.”

Then, without warning, he points the gun at Law’s thigh and shoots.

It all happens too fast, yet somehow, it replays slowly before your very eyes. The sound of the shot still rings in your ears as Law doubles over in pain, his cry trapped between pursed lips and clenched teeth. The smell of blood mixed with gunpowder is intoxicating and dizzying. 

You can’t bear it.

“STOP!” You scream, thrashing against your restraints as Doflamingo kicks Law’s other leg, causing him to kneel on the floor with a dry thud. “Leave him alone, don’t hurt him, please!”

“Look at the mess you’ve made me cause.” Doflamingo seems disappointed as he looks at his pristine carpet, tainted with the blood of his family. “I love it when you beg, princesa, but that’s not what I want to hear. Spill your secrets.”

-*-

“I can’t do this. He’s going to find out. He suspects already, and if he so much as thinks I’m the one behind it…” Law’s hands cupped your face, his eyes weary as they searched yours. “I haven’t hidden you well enough. He knows you’re my weakness. He will come for you, and I can’t–”

“Law…” You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the irregular drumming of his heart. “Oh, Law, you’re doing the right thing. Don’t doubt yourself. You’re so close! He won’t find out, don’t worry.”

Your lips found his, and he groaned, pulling you against him in a desperate embrace. “I can’t lose you, I can’t. I… God, I love you.”

You thought you had loved before, but the way your heart somersaulted, the way your breath hitched as you tried to breathe, was proof enough that you had never loved as deeply as you did Law. 

“And I love you, Law.” You held him close, your hands tangling in his hair, trying to brush away his feelings of fear and insecurity. “I trust you. You’re doing the right thing. I trust you, Law.”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “How?” A low grunt escaped his lips and he nuzzled his face against your neck, inhaling your scent. “How can you still trust me after everything I’ve done?”

You smiled against his chest, raising your arms to envelop his neck.

“You’re a good man, Law. I’ve known that since the day you saved me instead of leaving me to bleed in the middle of the street. I see it in the way you help people at the hospital, I see it in the way you want to bring justice for Cora. You’re kind, good, whole. I trust you with my life.”

-*-

“Are you going to talk, or should I shoot his other leg?”

Law grunts, ripping the fabric of his jacket to tie it around his thigh, stopping the blood but not the pain. 

“Maybe I’ll just skip to the head and get this over with. If I kill him and the treason stops, then I was right, if it doesn’t…” He shrugs. “Oops.”

“You’re sick!” You spit, your eyes searching Law’s. He shakes his head softly, a silent warning for you to remain silent, but you’re not strong enough. You know you’re not.

“Nobody fucks with my business!” Doffy shoves the barrel of the gun harshly against Law’s head, and you cry out again for him to stop. “And Law should know that better than anyone!”

-*-

“How much longer? Don’t they have enough proof already? What more do they need?” You paced the kitchen, back and forth, hands wringing against each other as your breathing came out in irregular gasps. 

“They say they’re almost ready. Almost.” Law typed away on his computer, his fingers detailing Doflamingo’s latest business. He was using a burner laptop, something that couldn’t be traced, and it was hiding in your flat.

“Almost is not soon enough! Doflamingo is breathing down your neck already. How long until he suspects something? I can’t… Law… what if he kills you?” Your voice broke, and you heard the chair scraping against the floor before Law’s strong arms wrapped around your body, trying to tether you and ground you back. To keep you from spiraling.

“Almost, love. We’ll be free. Soon. Trust me.”

-*-

“You have three seconds, doll.” Doflamingo’s voice sounds dangerous, unhinged, and maniacal. You sob, locking eyes with Law again and shaking your own head. You were never strong enough for this.

You will never be able to live without him.

No matter how selfish that may sound.

“One…” The barrel presses harder against Law’s head. “Two…”

“I love you.” Law whispers as you cry harder, your head falling forward and your shoulders wracking with heavy gasps, not even the pain radiating in your shoulder is strong enough to stop the tears.

“Three.” 

“It was me! It was me! It was always me, not Law! Don’t kill him, don’t! He didn’t know anything about it!”

It’s desperate. It's a hollow lie. But maybe he’ll buy it.

“You?”

“She’s lying! We don’t know anything about it!” Law rages, trying to move, but Doflamingo grips the scruff of his jacket, forcing him still as he steadies the gun against Law's head.

“Well, fuck me.” Doffy states. “Guess you’re going to have to die, then, princesa.”

“No! It’s not her!” Law thrashes and you whimper. 

“Is it you, then?” Doflamingo lowers his head, his lips hovering near Law’s ear. “After all I’ve done for you, after what I’ve taught you, after I’ve raised you? This is how you repay me?” You can't quite discern if what you perceive in Doflamingo's voice is disdain or disbelief. Either way he's upset. And he's taking it out on Law. 

“It’s not him!” You keep pleading, but neither of the men are paying attention to you now. “Doflamingo, listen to me. Leave Law alone!”

Law turns his face to the side, facing Doffy, the most unhinged and satisfied smirk spreading on his lips, even as sweat beads fall from his temple down his face. “It was always me, Uncle. I've wanted you behind bars ever since you killed Cora. I carried on the mission he started. I finished it.”

It’s clear Doflamingo was expecting that confession, but he still looks taken-aback. His smirk turns quickly into a scowl as he bares his teeth. 

“I hate you, Doflamingo. I loathe you with every fiber of my being. And you will rot in prison like the vermin you are.”

Doflamingo straightens up, his throat bobbing up and down as he fixes his glasses and suit. 

“Not before I kill you, dear Nephew.” He sighs heavily. “This was quite the disappointment. Go on, then, go meet my dear brother.” He raises his gun again, the barrel pointed directly at Law’s head and as he speaks, you know he’s addressing you, even though his eyes are locked with his uncle’s.

“I have no regrets. I would do it all over again.”

“Stop… stop… please… anyone… please…” You plead, your chest hurting, your vision blurring. You can’t lose him, you can’t. “Law…”

The bang is deafening. It reverberates around the space, clinging to the room like thick fog. You don’t have any more strength to cry, to shout or even to speak. So you close your eyes, tears dropping in an endless torrent.

It’s over.

It’s all over.

You just hope you’re next so you can meet Law in the afterlife.

…

……

………

“Open your eyes, love. Let me see your wounds, you’re bleeding too much.”

“Law?” It can’t be. “Law! What happened?” You look around the room, Doflamingo is sprawled on the floor, a bullet wound in his forehead, blood dripping in a very thin line and tainting his blond locks. 

“A sniper, I’d guess. The window’s shattered and I heard screaming outside. The police must be storming the place. They’ll find us soon. Keep still.”

But you can’t. You want to hold him, hug him, find out if he’s real. 

“Untie me, Law!” With a soft chuckle he presses his forehead against yours for a second before kissing the same spot and untying your wrists. You don’t mind the sharp stab of pain that travels through your arm or the swell in your chest as you hug Law tight against you.

“You did it, Law. He’s gone. He’s gone.” You manage to say between sobs and kisses.

“He should’ve spent the rest of his life in prison, but I’m not going to complain. You’re alive, love.”

“You’re alive.” You sigh, cupping his cheek in your bloody hands. “I knew my trust wasn’t misplaced. I love you.”

“I love you too.” And when you kiss it's like the world stops spinning, the commotion outside the room disappears and the pain ceases. All that exists, all that matters is Law. And the way he completes you. 

There was a time where you had a lifetime of regrets and yet you had barely lived. Now you have faced death and the inevitability of living a hollow life without the presence of your other half. You've found the person that makes everything worth it and you helped him in his quest for justice and righteousness.

You've lived. 

And you have no regrets left. Only trust.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache

Liked this story? Like my writing? Consider buying me a Ko-Fi, please!

[factual-fantasy]

30 Asks! Thank you! :)) 🐮

I was able to replace my tablet chord and download a brand new/fresh FireAlpaca file and so far things seem to be all better. But if my problems come back then I will be drawing in traditional yes <XDD

Also thank you so much!! :DDD

Bella my NPC cat? :0 She would accept the pats :))

@artistiemi

Awwwwwww 🥹🥹 This drawing is so cute and soft 😭😭💞💞💞 Thank you! :)))

@chickenmilk120 (Referencing this post)

Yeah 😔😔 hoping they change it someday soon 🙏🙏🙏

(Link in question)

Oh yeah! Its right here :)

@sc3n3mo-t3to

XDDD Thank you!! :))))

@candyglumboy (Sent after this post)

Not a crush, he's in love! :0 And so is Pomni but neither of them really realize that/understand it and thus aren't really doing anything about it <XD

@rockandtoon

SOBBBSSS THANOYIYUUU SO MCUCHYHH 😭😭💞💞💞

@fandomcenteral

Aw! Cute kitty!! :DD

And thank you, currently I feel not the best 💀 but hopefully this next doctors appointment will give me some answers <:))

@kwaziis-eyepatch-real

Thank you! :) But also sorry, no.. I wouldn't be comfortable with my art being used as pfps <:(

Ehhh,, I wouldn't <:( That probably wouldn't sit well with me..

Thank you very much for checking first though! Not everyone does <:)))

WAHAGG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DD Sucks that you found me offsite but glad you're here none the less! :)

And don't worry, you'll find stuff for Kinger XDDD

@captain-skyler1987

Hello! And are those guys from Dandy's world.? XD

I don't like what you're implying by turning Jangles into a werewolf and then putting chocolate on the table <XDDD

@natewithcake (Post in question)

AAAAA THANK YOU!! :DDDD

MEEHEHEEEEHEHEEEEEEEEE🎶

@bellanova137

Maybe they'll come out and make it official someday! :0 But for now having them be in love and trying to hide it from each other is fun to draw and mess with XDD

I feel like having a wolf centaur body would mostly just be incontinent and very uncomfortable.😅

Typically, wolves display crepuscular behavior, meaning they prefer times of low light and are most active around twilight, dawn, and dusk. Imagine how that would clash with your human body which is supposed to sleep at night and stay awake all day..

You'd have to change your diet to give both your human AND wolf half the nutrients they need. It would be MUCH harder to clean yourself and wipe your own bum. You'd have to pay loads for pet shampoo and grooming products PLUS the human ones you already use.. You'd spend hours trying to groom your fur and not damage your wolf skin when you try to clean your human skin with other products and vice versa. All clothes have to be custom made, you cant sit or walk comfortably in any public spaces.. You'd have to go to human doctors AND special vets to care for both of your halves...

The list just goes on <XDD being a wolf centaur would just suck in my opinion.

Ah sorry- nono you weren't being rude. I just forgot to comment back that I don't actually know what laptop I have 😅

@ink-machine-kidd

She probably snuck past whoever was in charge of her and put on the headset even though she was told not to😔

(Recent post) (Queenie and Kinger comic)

Oh nono, I just hadn't made everyone's ref sheets yet at that time. But different outfits is something Caine would try to manage! :0

Man you really had pirates on the mind huh XDD

Ohh, I see. I might not do that.. but I get the idea now <:D Thank you!

Vibes received 🤩 Thank you! :)))

Thank you!! :DD

Big wolf! :D

@samcat71470558

Thank you for the kind words <:))) So far it seems like the new tablet chord and downloading a fresh FireAlpaca has fixed all my problems. Hopefully it stays that way! 🙏

XD I think I just have a pattern with medias I'm into. If the story is mostly wholesome it feels bland. So I add a bunch of angst to it. (Octonauts is a good example)

Or alternatively, if the story is super angsty or has types of angst that I don't take well, (like character deaths) then I usually make a fix-it AU that brings everyone back to life and changes/removes a lot of the angst. (TADC and my Undertale AU: RefinedTale being good examples)

Also in my AU, Kaufmo hasn't abstracted. So she bonded with the other humans in other ways overtime. 👍

@wolfie-777

At first I assumed these were obviously fake. But a quick Google search shows that they seem to be real! :0 Although the peeled banana is clearly photoshopped <XDD

Ngl, a vanilla-like custard taste is exactly what I hoped/expected those bananas to taste like XDD

@theintroverse

La Chancla translated to "the flip flop".? <:0 I'm sorry but I don't understand..

Also is he based on a Pinata? :0 I hadn't realized- perhaps I will have to consider giving him some candy powers <XDD

[justcallmecj]

Humans Are STILL Weird

Another part to my very first Tumblr post where I discussed what the non-human characters would think about some odd human habits/traits. Well, here is one more!

Here's the first part for reference

Monkey See, Monkey Do:

You can’t tell me the demon brothers have no clue why Mc copies them so much. Humans are known for their mimicry, the incessant need to copy behavior and actions they see. It’s how babies learn to talk, walk and do literally everything else in life. Now, demons most likely do this too, but this extremity of copying each other likely stops once they mature. However, as they have seen with Mc, humans never actually stop doing it. 

Mc sees one of them make some kind of odd hand gesture or stand in a specific way? Well Mc is doing the exact same thing! Lucifer sits with his head in his hand propped on his desk while speaking to them? So do they! Literally any of them make some demon noise Mc has never heard? Well they try their damn best to copy it (horribly most likely). And Solomon does it too! He can often be found mimicking the way Simeon stands with his hand on his hip when they are next to each other.

And when Mc and Solomon are in the room together? It’s even worse! Both humans will take on habits of the demons and angels around them and it can easily be noticed. When speaking with each other, Mc and Solomon will often nod and shake their heads at the same time, raise their hands and make gestures that basically mirror versions of each other, even sometimes adopting the same cadence in their voice and speaking patterns. Neither of them really catch on, until they are laughing about it, somehow managing to laugh in the exact same way.

It’s odd and none of them understand. They find it a little weird at first. But when they ask you and Solomon about it and they get an answer, they later find it endearing. Solomon explained how humans copy each other as a way of forming bonds. Humans are attracted to similarities between one another and mimicry brings them together and even shows a layer of trust between the individuals. After that, the brothers never cared for Mc copying them, and would even smile fondly when they saw the habit. They now have new teasing ammo against Mc and the human doesn’t know how to feel about it.

Pls, feel free to share your own headcanons and (with permission and if you want it) I may write something for them!

[geek-melody95]

You tug on my sleeve with those wide, eager eyes, and I already know what you want before you even say it. “Dada, pillow fort?” you ask, your voice sweet and hopeful. How could I ever say no to that?

I smile and ruffle your hair. “Of course, sweetheart,” I say, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s make the biggest, coziest pillow fort ever.”

And so, we get to work. I let you pick out all the fluffiest pillows and the softest blankets, piling them up in the middle of the living room. You giggle as I hold up a blanket like a grand tapestry, draping it over the chairs we’ve lined up as our walls. You crawl inside, testing the space, and I watch as you snuggle in, your eyes shining with excitement.

I join you, adjusting the blankets to make sure no cold air sneaks in, and soon, we’re surrounded by warmth and softness. Our own little world, safe and hidden away. I tuck you under my arm, and you nuzzle in close, your small body fitting perfectly against mine.

“What should we watch first?” I ask, stroking your back gently.

You hum in thought before whispering the name of your favorite movie. I reach for the remote and press play, the soft glow of the screen illuminating our little hideaway. The familiar opening tune plays, and I feel you relax even further against me, your fingers lightly gripping my shirt.

As the movie plays, I whisper little comments, making you giggle, and every time I hear that sweet sound, my heart melts a little more. I trace gentle patterns on your arm, feeling you slowly unwind, the steady rhythm of my breathing lulling you into a peaceful calm.

Halfway through, I notice your blinks getting slower, your little hand resting heavily against my chest. “Aw, is my baby sleepy?” I murmur.

You nod against me, barely awake, and I press another soft kiss to your hair. “Then rest, my love. I’m right here.”

The movie continues, its soft sounds wrapping around us like another blanket. I feel the slow rise and fall of your breath against me, your body completely at ease in my arms. I hold you a little tighter, cherishing this moment, this warmth, this love.

The world outside may be big and busy, but here, inside our little fort, it’s just us. Safe. Cozy. Together.

And that’s all that matters.

[putschki1969]

2025/01/30 Blog post by Wakana 明日は締め切り日だよ！全員集合！〜名店「姪っ子寿司」に行って来ました〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Tomorrow Is The Deadline���Everyone, Send In Your Questions！〜Went To The Famous Restaurant, "Niece Sushi"〜

The other day, I met up with my family (^o^)/ My sister-in-law made a cake for me! It was cute, beautiful, and really delicious…😭✨Amazing…✨[Can anyone tell hat's written on the plate next to the cake? The second line is definitely "Kalafina" but I'm not sure about the first and third line. First line looks like a name maybe (first word kinda looks like "Wakana")? Third line is something in Japanese but it's hard to make out. The part on the right side looks like "すてきな歌声=amazing singing voice". Anyway, how cute is it that Wakana's family is holding a party to celebrate the Kalafina concert?!]

The main event of our get-together was a sushi-fest🍣💕(The meat was also really delicious…🤤💕) My niece has recently become obsessed with a sushi game and she likes to pretend to be a sushi chef and even opened her very own famous restaurant called "Niece Sushi"! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／There's a proper menu. (The first thing I noticed was the special Totoro sushi) Recommendations for me, my mother, and the whole family are written on the menu😊There are many sets on the left side but the ones that really caught my eye were under the "Pattern Sushi☆" section. Among them was a set called "Kalafina"!! But it was quite expensive at 10,000 yen *laughs* At such a high price, I thought it would take too much time to prepare so I decided not to order it 😂 (I wonder what it would look like though) There were also other items on the menu like "Shark à 100 yen" and "Gyoza à 100 yen" 😂 (I think you can tell that the "Kalafina Sushi" must be super special *laughs*) Here's some of the sushi made by my niece! 🍣Some tuna too!! ! (The small sushi plate is super cute)

After my niece made a bunch of sushi, we each made our own hand-rolled sushi😊(I tried making my own "Totoro" sushi) It was nice spending family time together and eat delicious food〜😆I also have a somewhat trivial story to share from that day. When my niece was making her sushi, I happened to look down and and suddenly saw…!! My brother was wearing my niece's Gyozame-chan slippers😂They were waytoo small on him and his heels were sticking out (the one on the right with no slippers is my niece by the way *laughs*) On that day, my brother was working as an assistant for my niece, the master chef. Secretly he had snatched the master's slippers, hilarious😂I was focusing on the master's preparations so I didn't evn notice😂 I couldn't help but take a picture😂

Now, on a completely different side note, tomorrow is the day!! It's the deadline to send in submissions for my podcast "Wakana's Talk Garden". The next episode will air on February 10th! (((o(ﾟ▽ﾟ)o))) Next month's episode will be the first in a while to have no dedicated talk theme! You can send me whatever you like! Anything goes😊💕You can tell me all about your thoughts on the Kalafina live! You can ask questions or just send a random comment! Since we want to read as many messages as possible, there won't be any presents this time🙇‍♀️I hope you don't mind💦I'll be waiting for your submissions!! ＼(^o^)／Click here♡↓↓

So, since I haven't posted them yet, I'll post my dresses from the Kalafina live the other day‼ ︎＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

This is my dress for the main performance👗(There's an excited expression on my face before the live) All three of us were wearing matching white and gold outfits😊The back was gorgeous too! (everyone said is was super sparkly)

And this is my dress for the encore 👗(This is my face after the show. Looks quite different from before the show started!😂)For the encore, we had dresses made for us to match our individual image, I got to wear a lovely white dress😊I really like both of my dresses!

The stylist team took care of us in so many ways right up until the live started. I can't thank them enough…! This concert was made possible thanks to the support from so many people. It was a great time to be able to sing together as a trio again, and to share Kalafina's music with so many people in the audience. Thank you so much😊

(Everyone's colourful dresses are so cute😊) The other day, on January 23rd, We as Kalafina celebrated our 17th Anniversary🤗 It's all thanks to you😭✨1, 2, 3‼️＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

Well, until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

[k0nanharv3y]

Ahhhh, yes, I am not accepting criticism, if you do not like the path I take, you are free to leave and not come back to my blog, I do this for fun. I work in a cafeteria, I like to imagine that the characters I like work in a cafeteria, stfu

Robin Hood AU

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Batman was sensible, he was a detective, and what that implied, he was a gossip and a busybody

He knew someone had brought him back, he knew that someone was in the League of Assassins and he knew that someone was not Ra's

The news had spread like a rumor and was confirmed one day when Talia appeared on a rooftop beside him, announcing his father's death. Bruce had said nothing more than a grunt of recognition and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder as a simple "I'm sorry for your lost"

Only she didn't say "My father is dead" or "I have claimed my father's position." She said "Someone has finished off the demon's head"

Bruce didn't give it much importance at the time and now he regrets it

Because that someone was probably the one who brought him back

I spend hours and days sitting in front of the giant computer, reviewing the evidence of its existence, noticing a pattern similar to someone he could never catch

Robin Hood

The way of writing, the photos, the system and the program he used was the same one that Robin Hood used when he sent samples of some attack or plan, and Bruce opened the rogue's folder again

And spent more hours gathering everything they knew about him

He didn't accomplish much, really. Just a few notes of the cases he solved, the ones he helped out with, the times he attacked multimillion-dollar companies to give it away and re-route the money through various legal channels to those in need in Gotham

And also the first recorded cases of Robin Hood, those who directly attacked Bruce and Batman, those who... those who offered an apology with a letter

The letter where he declared to know Batman's identity and offered him a "I'm sorry for your lost", an apology and an explanation

And Batman just growled even more, gritting his teeth, going over for the 5th time the possible people behind Robin Hood

///

Stephanie Brown didn't consider herself a passionate coffee lover, she was more into Alfred's infusions and hot teas with sugar. She had a time when she was Robin when her dependence on caffeine was worrying and she received an intervention from her sister and brother to stop her. And then she started drinking tea

So her presence at this place was just because of the fame it was getting. The photos on Instagram showed a nice and warm place, with poetry performances, singing and comedians passing on stage every so often, with Jazz playing in the background, fairy lights on the ceiling tangled with artificial plants

And of course, that was lovely, but in all the photos there was always something, someone, standing out. And that was the barista behind the bar

First they declared him as the cute boy who didn't know how to make a decent Frappuccino but always thanked you with a charming smile

Later as Gotham's lost prince, Timothy Drake, who had started his own business after Drake Industries went bankrupt following the death of both founders

Then they started filling the reviews with the great tasting drinks, the delicious desserts, and the cute barista who remembered your name even if you had only been there once

[Tim took it as a challenge and had his ego hurt when people commented on his poor cooking skills, so after months of trial and error and many YouTube and Reddit tutorials, he did it]

And Stephanie Brown understood why everyone was talking about the barista. The guy was skinny, a little shorter than her, with black hair tied in a messy ponytail, pale like any Gotnamemite who hasn't seen the sun in... ever. And... and he smiled when he heard the bell above the door ring

"Hi, welcome to The Nest, what can I..." His face fell a little but he suddenly recovered "What are you gonna drink?"

Steph walked over to the bar, admiring the place after staring at the guy for too long, and looked up at the chalkboards above, noticing a fun fact that the photos didn't mention

"Hi, can I get a Purple Spoiler Tea?" She smiled and looked back at the boy, admiring his face up close "And a..." she looked back at the desserts, giggling at the names they had "A Stealed Cat-Cake?"

"Sure!, it will be 9.75" the boy's face turned slightly pink, not daring to look at the girl

Steph handed him the cash and deposited a 50 dollar bill into the box secured with tape and a padlock

"Will it be for takeaway or to consume here?" He asked pleasantly, beginning to slide along the bar, preparing the drink

"To consume here" she answered

"Okay, go and take a seat, I'll call your name when I'm done"

"But I haven't told you my name" Steph smiled confused

"It's not every day that a Wayne comes to my coffee shop, you know?" He joked and his voice sounded somewhat restless but he kept his tone simple and cheerful

Steph's face warmed with a slight blush and she nodded, even knowing that the barista wouldn't see her and walked to a table near the window

The atmosphere was warm, with pleasant aromas and chatter filling the sound over the relaxing jazz music, the lights were not too bright nor too dim and at one point, she heard the boy's voice calling her from the bar

Steph walked over and took the tray, admiring the color of the tea, a soft purple, garnished with red berries at the bottom and smiled at the sight of the dessert

Two cupcakes, one with the face of a laughing cat and the other with a bag that was supposed to be full of diamonds

Steph smiled and thanked the barista before returning to her table, where she took a photo of her tray, posting it on her social media with the caption praising the place and the barista

She would definitely bring her brothers here

And then she saw both napkins under both products and carefully removed them

'Spoiler has had three identities so far, she started out as Spoiler, became the third Robin, shared the Batgirl mantle with Orphan, and returned to being Spoiler recently'

'Catwoman started out being hated by the city for years, but has recently begun to be more accepted after being seen helping the Bats'

It was data... that you'd find on Reddit or the internet if you were a hobbyist who did a lot of research. But what surprised Steph was that it was handwritten and she wondered if she had different data for each dish and if it was different every time she sorted them

She smiled and looked around for the barista

A few seconds passed before Tim looked back at her, and they both smiled at each other

///

List of products that Tim sells in the cafeteria because I thought it was hilarious to name foods

[lyreofchrysaor]

Clairsenses — A Theory

So, this post has been in the works for quite a while. I have contemplated making this post vs not making it, but with the amount of times I happen to repeat all this information anytime somebody asks for advice on how to improve their clairsenses, I figured I'd just make a big post for myself and others to refer to when needed. It also serves as a way for me to solidify a theory I've had about clairsenses for quite a while, so there goes two birds.

I want to preface this by saying that I am by no means an expert, and that this is just a theory in the works that makes the most sense for my experiences and what I've seen others experience. This theory makes learning any other clairsense so much easier in so many peoples' experiences (because I have shared it with many people and they have confirmed that it helps), but I am no scientist or expert. While I highly recommend using this theory in your practice to develop your clairsenses, in the event that it does not work for you, that is okay. But like I said, I strongly recommend it.

With that out of the way, let's get started.

First off, what are clairsenses? Clairsenses are, by extension, similar to the 'sixth sense' concept. They are extra senses that correspond with the 5 senses we already have, but they operate on a different 'plane'. Most people use them to reach beyond the veil and into the beyond, whether that be with ghosts, spirits, deities, or anything else. Each clair operates like a radio frequency where you can tune into one or more to receive information.

There are different types of clairsenses, each of them pertaining to the 5 senses that we already have. So there is clairvoyance, pertaining to sight, and clairaudience, pertaining to hearing, and so on.

There are many theories about how clairsenses even work, but for the sake of my theory, we will go with: clairsenses are extra senses that help the individual process energy from a different plane of being through sensory filters.

A common phenomenon in clairsenses is that some people happen to be naturally good at one or more type of clairsense. I will address this later in my theory.

So, by the definition of clairsenses are extra senses that help the individual process energy from a different plane of being through sensory filters, the question that inspired this theory and this post is, how can I develop clairsenses? Everyone has the ability to do so, but just how?

In short, my theory is that clairsentience is the base and foundation of every clairsense, and to learn any clairsense, it's much easier to start by learning and mastering clairsentience.

In accordance with my definition, clairsentience is the clair that allows an individual to be aware of any surrounding energies. You cannot necessarily see, or hear, or taste, or touch, but you know it is there. Clairsentience is often the most common clairsense that many people don't actually know they have.

It all boils down to the fact that if you're able to "feel" the energies, then it's much easier to put them through a sensory filter. That's how it makes every other clair easier to learn. It's a bit of wordplay too—without being sentient, you cannot begin to process any other senses.

But Chrys, how are people born with clairsenses that they are naturally adept at without having clairsentience?

Clairsenses work like translation. I'll use clairaudience as an example here. You tune into the energy, and you begin to notice small fluctuations in the energy that are conveying a message. Upon understanding what that message is, it becomes easier to associate specific words with specific fluctuations. When you sharpen this ability, you can begin discerning a faint voice from it—one that you may not necessarily be physically hearing, but one that accompanies the energy every time it conveys a message to you. Over time, you'll begin to notice how specific energies use specific vocabulary and have their own speech patterns.

This is how I learned clairaudience by using clairsentience as a foundation, and it's how I've taught others to learn clairaudience as well.

When you are naturally born to be good at clairaudience, this entire process comes to you easily. You do not even have to think about translating; it is natural to you. To learn clairsentience for this person would still be like learning how to translate, because they did not even know what they were doing involved translating in the first place.

I'll admit, this part of my theory is definitely still a work in progress, but it makes sense to me in a way that's difficult to put into words, unfortunately.

We can use this theory to learn any clairsense we want, because it all boils down to clairsentience. When you can feel that energy, you can apply it through a sensory filter. Does this mean anyone who learned clairsenses a different way is wrong? Not at all! This is just like... a "hack", if you will. A shortcut.

I hope this helps! Feel free to send me any questions.

Xaire ♡

[redpill-tfs]

I am ready to take the Red Pill and become a proud MAGA American citizen! Please, can you help?

Of course I can help you out bro! I'm pretty sure it's in my job description somewhere. I have the perfect new life for you. Just step into my office real quick. Here's your red pill, man. I have some water here if you need it too.

As the pill starts breaking down in your system, you can feel the changes take place. Your arm muscles expand outward, completely ripping the sleeves of your shirt. Your legs follow a similar pattern, completely ruining your pants. You've definitely spent a good amount of time at the gym. Your hair lightens to a nice blonde, while it gets a little longer for a typical douchebag look. While we're at it, let's give you some more testosterone and make your cock a little longer. 8 inches sound good?

Don't worry about your clothes, bro. I have some new ones for you. Let's get your basketball shorts on first. As impressive as your new package is, I don't really wanna see it bro. I got a red tank top for you as well. Let's just slide that over your head here... and perfect. It's fitting for a Red man like yourself. You've got the perfect alpha bro look right now. Don't want you to look like a weak libtard now do we? I thought so.

Let's get you to your new home now. You find yourself on a beautiful college campus, a fountain in the middle of a group of buildings. The football field isn't that far away either. You spend a lot of time there, bro. Between football and the gym, you barely have time for anything else. I don't know how you do it man. Balancing your junior year of your business major, hosting wicked parties at your fraternity with your bros, and going to the gym. Can't forget about football practice of course. Can't have the star quarterback missing out on that! Have you heard the rumors around campus saying that you might go pro? Even if that fails, you can always get an easy job at Daddy's business. A comfy office job where you get to boss people around sounds like a good deal to me.

Let the memories fill your brain bro. You were never a weak liberal. You're Mike Smith Jr., a proud conservative alpha bro. You were raised in the very image of your father, who owns one of the most successful consulting firms in this great nation. He made sure to raise you RIGHT, getting you into manly things like sports from a young age. He taught you to get what you want, and your commanding presence and alpha personality ensures you do so. Christ has a strong influence in your life, of course. You never fail to attend church every Sunday, taking the pastor's words to heart. Well, at least most of it.

Why would you ever want to be a weak ass liberal, spending all your time protesting Trump's policies and crying over deported criminals when you could be living life the RIGHT way? The Red Way. You know America is the greatest country on Earth and your life ahead is full of anything and everything you want.

Speaking of what you want, I think that chick over there is looking at you. She's pretty hot, right? I can see your boner in your shorts. Look at those breasts, bro. Just imagine how tight her pussy must be. If you're lucky, you might just get her pregnant and spread the Red even further to the next generation. Ain't no way you're letting her get an abortion! That goes against your values. Why don't you flex your muscles at her, show her what she could have? Oh, she's smiling at you... Now go get her, bro!

[laqueus]

Joy, textile craft be upon ye :)

[ingravinoveritas]

He wins an actual award tonight--something that by his own admission is a rare occurrence and certainly cause for celebration--and in the same damn night, the response from her is #humbled. Gotta make him do grunt work, be a lowly roadie, put him in his place. It is absolutely exhausting and not at all normal. It just isn't...

[ploompkin]

Working on the prototype for my Cal plush… I don’t have enough white felt, so he’s just going to be made of a full rainbow in the mean time lol

The final is going to be made of nice minky fabric!! So soooft

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

It’s love ❤️

[kyouka-supremacy]

(╥﹏╥)

[keshetchai]

As someone who enjoys religion blogging/discussions, I've come to realize that it's a good practice to be aware of the general signs/symptoms of religious-OCD thinking (aka scrupulosity), because if the conversation is taking on all the hallmarks of scrupulosity, it's actually a definitive sign that we cannot meaningfully and compassionately engage in a conversation about religion in a healthy way. I've actually had this play out a significant number of times online, and when I realized what it was, I also began to realize that the intrusive thoughts/obsessive and compulsive thinking are only ever fed by continuing the discussion with that person.

[[ Important edit to clarify why I am saying it's not healthy — made after I went back to look for more concrete facts about OCD or anxiety (I have GAD, not OCD, but many resources overlap since they're both anxiety disorders):

When Reassurance is Harmful — this explains how/why reassurance-seeking specifically about an OCD fear is a compulsive behavior, and engaging with reassurance-seeking interferes with recovery/management/treatment.

This table from the Anxiety Disorders Center lists key differences between Information Seeking and Reassurance Seeking.

This IOCDF page on Scrupulosity info for Faith Leaders identifies "symptom accommodation" as enabling. Two of the examples of doing this by participating in the OCD behavior are: "Engage in excessive conversation focused on if-then scenarios (e.g., "If I did this, then would X or Y happen? And what if Z was involved? How about W?")" And, "Repeatedly answering questions about ‘correct’ religious or faith practices."

That page also goes on to outline more info about reassurance seeking. "Although providing answers to (often simple!) questions may seem harmless, providing reassurance serves to maintain the anxiety disorder cycle." (This BMC psychiatry article cites a lot of related studies establishing this.)

The IOCDF page on What is OCD and Scrupulosity? ]]

Imo, the responsible thing to do is to recognize that (even if the other person hasn't outright stated it/isn't diagnosed)* the conversation is not about religion, it is about needing mental health support from professionals and experts. Talking to me, the layperson who enjoys chatting theology and my religion — is not only not helping, but is actively harmful. I'm not just talking about the person who I replied to today, either. Like I've said, I've seen this happen dozens of times in various online forums.

*[while I am against diagnosing strangers on the internet, it's important to realize A) lots of people don't know what Scrupulosity is, so it's possible they've never considered this is a mental health concern that could be treated, and that B) for the purposes of my concern, it doesn't matter if they actually have diagnosed OCD. The only thing that matters is that their thought-process causes them genuine distress/fear, and every response given to them seems to only incite new/additional distressing questions/thoughts, or further entrenches the original distress.]

Ultimately, any discussion aside from "you might want to speak to a mental health professional about scrupulosity OCD" seemingly puts me in the position of feeling as if I am being used for their self-harm. I hate that feeling. I do not want to be leverage for fear and pain. I have GAD, I despise the idea that I am making things worse.

No matter how much I love religious discussion, the answer in these cases is always "please reach out to an OCD specialist/mental health professional. I am not qualified to discuss this." And then to stop there. I have never once seen anyone stuck in this compulsive thought spiral be reassured or feel any better by hearing from someone else's approach to theology handled with things like empathy, compassion, logic, or even atheism. It doesn't matter what we say, how we say it, or how we relate to our own religion. The urge to engage in this kind of conversation in order to chat about religion is a sign that we are not equipped to help.

You can't have a conversation here, because intentionally or not, ten times out of ten, you are adding fuel to the fire. Just like people can't simply tell me something that would erase/talk me out of my ADHD/depression/anxiety disorder, you also cannot simply argue/reassure/persuade people out of scrupulosity. We should not try. We have a responsibility to consider that it's outright harmful to do so, and to disengage.

[puppppppppy]

who up seeing their disorder in a fictional character but feel like its not their place to put a name on it