#also i'm serious about tag suggestion i'm willing to change it to something that would work better

[canonicallysoulmates]

i am begging you to stop tagging your spn costar conspiracy theories with 'non iwtv' because it's making that shit pop up when you search iwtv

You got so close to asking this in a polite way, you get half a star!

I don't work for tumblr, I can't change the fact that the way the search function currently works makes everything that has the word searched shows up regardless of it being in the tags and how it's used.

I made a whole post explaining that the purpose of that tag for this blog is so those who only want to see the iwtv content can do so by blacklisting that tag so everything else won't show up, which I suggest is what you do because the only thing I can do is change it so it doesn't have a space so it'd be: noniwtv.

I don't know if that would work, though, but I'm willing to give it a try, and y'all let me know if it works. But you have to let me know if it works! Otherwise, I won't know to make the change. Help me, help you.

Unless you have a suggestion for a tag that serves the same purpose.

[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

[nestasgalpal]

Dinner dates ch.5

Nesta’s Gal Pal Masterlist | Dinner Dates masterlist | AO3

Tagging: @almosttenaciousmoon @sv0430 @nervousninjasuit

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!

Just as he had anticipated, no one had time to rehearse the dance. To free all their schedules for the same spawn of three hours today had been difficult enough, so Feyre had to compromise. She mentioned something about everyone knowing the steps anyway, and Azriel refused to be the one telling her that they absolutely did not.

Azriel didn't verbalize his delight at knowing there would be no dance that day either, of course, but there was someone who could read his every thought and decided to comment on it anyway.

"You are a lucky one, Az." Cassian said. They were sitted next to each other on Rhysand's side of the table. "A free meal at the best restaurant in town, no dance, and a date tonight, if I'm not mistaken."

That made Azriel rise his eyes from the food. "How did you know?" He kept his voice low, confident in the bustle of the table stopping the others from listening.

Cassian smiled wide, and Azriel realized he had confirmed what had only been a hypothesis until now. He took a bite of his wagyu stake parsimony. Azriel hated it when he did that, when Cassian outsmarted him... or rather took advantage of his tiredness to steal information from him.

"You said you came straight from the office, but I saw you park the motorcycle. You hate to drive it downtown, with so much traffic, so if you took it to the newspaper today, you must have been planning to go home earlier than us since the morning. Need to change into a better outfit before you go see her?" He joked, almost hitting the nail on the head.

"We are actually meeting in my place."

Cassian's eyebrows almost met his hairline. There was a hint of disappointment in his face, as if hurt that Azriel hadn't mentioned Gwyn before. Azriel rolled his eyes. "It's not that serious, she kind of invited herself over."

He lied. Without thinking, he said the words, and only then Azriel realized how wrong they felt.

But it is not serous. We've met twice. Well, three times... and this would be their second proper date. It's also the second time she'll enter my house.

Relevant or not, the only thing he knew for sure was that it was weird. To think about these date as something, made him uneasy. Yet whenever he dismissed them as nothing important, the feeling was just as bad. On top of everything, Azriel didn't know what she even expected from him, and the idea of asking her, as if he cared to put a name on such casual meetings, was plainly embarrassing.

He wouldn't bare himself to anyone just to get his heart crushed again. Not even for an innocent question. He simply wouldn't be the one chasing this time.

Cassian seemed to be listening to his thoughts as they crossed Azriel's mind, not so convinced of what Azriel assured him. He probably saw the conflict in Az's hazel eyes, and got the wrong idea.

"Really. I't just a girl I met on a bar." Allowing Cassian to believe two lies would be too much, so he had to be honest about some of it.

Some, and only some, because if he stopped avoiding the truth for a second too long, Azriel would have to face that Gwyn had not, in fact, invited herself over. She had merely suggested as a joke, probably, that he bought pillows for her. And the words had just flown out of his mouth in a way they never did.

"If it were serious," Cassian seemed like he was willing to let the subject go, and Azriel was grateful for it. This was not the time or place to tell Cassian about her. This whole event wasn't about him, "you would tell me, right?"

Nodding, Az made his friend happy. "Of course, brother."

"What are you two talking about?" Rhysand's voice rose over everyone else's, and silence suddenly reigned. Heads from either side of the table were now fixed on the two of them.

Feyre had just taken her glass to drink, the movement now halted as her curious eyes graced from Cassian to Azriel himself.

"Only marveling at how beautiful Nesta Archeron is looking today." Cassian was quick to answer, knowing the mention of Feyre's sister would focus the attention on him as soon as the woman reacted.

Predictably, she did. Letting go of the wine bottle she was gods know why photographing, Nesta blocked the screen of her phone and focused her deathly stare on his friend. The immediate bickering that followed between Cassian and her was distraction enough for the guests, although not for him.

Azriel couldn't take out of his head the realization that, if things with Gwyn felt like they were moving too fast, it may actually be his own fault. Why the hell had he invited her to come over?

He had felt bad the scoop he received woke her up too early in the morning. That he had to left, rushing their goodbye. And although Gwyn hadn't complained, Az knew just by looking at her, she wasn't pleased. Foolishly, Azriel had felt the need to make up for it. She had teased him about another date, and like a desperate teenager, he had jumped head first to take it.

Wanting to be functional and stressing twice what his body was able to resist while trying to build a new relationship simply couldn't work. He needed to slow things down. Tonight when he saw her, Azriel would tell Gwyn about the wedding, the trip and the mess that was his family, and he would make it clear that he had no intention to mix the dimension that they were with... whatever him and Gwyn had, just yet.

Right across the table, Nesta was still snarling something back at Cassian, who couldn't get enough of her sharp tongue, apparently. Mor nodded with her usual disapproval of Feyre's sister, while the soon-to-be bride clearly reconsidered the sisters and brothers dance she had wanted so badly until a minute ago. Azriel looked at his watch to check the time.

Shit.

He should be on his way to the supermarket by now, and they hadn't even gotten to the desserts. So much chatter that should be saved for the 9 hours-long flight to Italy was delaying the rehearsal.

"I have to make a call." He excused himself and got up from his chair. Only Elain heard him, as the rest of the group decided their opinion on the conversation Cassian had started while calling Nesta beautiful ought to be heard.

Before he exited the salon where the rehearsal "dinner" was being hosted, Azriel noticed Feyre's eyes on him as well, slightly frowning from her chair.

Three rings, and then there was Nuala. "Hey, I know you shouldn't be moving much, but could you make me a favor?" A laugh and a yes were the answer he got. Refusing to be late, but most importantly, refusing to be late for a date in his own apartment, Azriel resorted to his only friend not shackled here. "I'll send you a list of the things I'll need."

---

He would later have to come out of the bathroom to make sure he had closed the front door, not remembering if he had actually done it or not when he first entered his apartment. The only thing in Azriel's mind as he run into his bedroom was that he needed to change. The pieces he had chosen for the date were carefully folded over the comforter.

The gel in his hair was next. Azriel looked at his reflection in the mirror, shirtless and with his back hair glued to his scalp. He needed to get that thing off before Gwyn arrived, or he would never see the end of it.

Shower? He looked at his option. No time for that. Sink, it is.

He put his head under the tap and opened it. Water fell all over his face and washed off the hair gel. Towel. He half dried his hair and mentally crossed his fingers so that it dried in time. The most important part was that, if it didn't -or if anything went wrong, it looked purposefully.

Play it cool.

He damned himself when he merged into the kitchen and didn't immediately see where Nuala had left the ingredients for tonight. False alarm. They were in the first cabinet he opened. As he took the eggs out of the fridge and carefully put them over the table with the rest of the ingredients, the doorbell rang.

With the socks, she won't hear me, Azriel reasoned to himself as he rushed to greet her.

He run to the door -actually run, skidding and stopping to check himself in the mirror before he opened the door. There she was, gorgeous, smiling, and in a baby blue satin dress that hang from her shoulders by two thin straps.

So easy to take off. He thought.

Azriel wished he could blame the voice in his head, but he didn't feel even a little bit guilty about the image he was already painting for himself of how the night would end.

"Hi! I brought wine!"

A bottle like the one Amren had emptied that evening was in her hand. Az took a deep breath and invited her inside.

[warriorsbutnotreally]

New Intro [for now]

Welcome to WarriorsButNotReally!

This is a fandom-centric blog and the more talkative counterpart to @allofthesecatsaregay , which contains all of my personal designs for the canon characters [and what I use when basing hypokits off of]

My name is Killian but I go by Kira/Kyra as well, due to it being a name I've been using for many years name. I'm a nonbinary trans man and I use he/they/fae pronouns. I'm also aroace.

You can find my main blog at @kyraamongtheshadows though I just mostly reblog things and very rarely post art..

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My blog is not a safe place for pr*shippers/c0mshippers, MAPs / p*dophiles, TERFs, racists, LGBT-phobes, sexists, or ableists.

I'm also not comfortable with the shipping of real people or the romanization of violent criminals.

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///What Can You Find Here?///

I have many topics that can be found through my various tags;

#AU - ranging from submitted ideas to me just rambling until a cohesive thought comes out, I can talk about all things warriors. I love talking about AUs and sharing ideas and helping inspire others with their own wonderful ideas - that's what this blog was made for after all!

#Discussions - more disorganized thoughts, though on more certain and specific topics. Ranging from serious to silly to even world building information [from my own headcanons]. Some are more rant-style and those contain information backing up on what has formed my opinion on certain topics.

#Hypos - though the most popular option is to send in ships people would like to see pairs of [which, don't get me wrong, I love doing] there is also the option for AU versions of certain cats [ie what if The Three were born to different parents] AND giving canon couples an extra litter! This also includes possible stories

* [more information about these below]

#Show Me! - want me to draw characters mentioned in AUs? just tell me who and I’ll draw em! This includes canon characters who I give different fates and not just kits that are given to couples.

#Help! - For any OC help! Need help thinking about names? Not sure about your OC? Need some appearances that fit names you like? Feel free to ask! I’m no expert, obviously, but I love designing and naming so I’m happy to be of assistance!

#Rate My OC! - Another fun OC one - give me your OC and their information and I’ll give my feelings! I’m not going to be scary or harsh, but rather just talk about things I like about the charater[s].

However! If you wish for actual critique, please be sure to state so. Otherwise it’ll be of the same energy of that cute dog twitter that rates dogs but with OC battle cats.

#Headcanons - I talk about my headcanons for characters and show some obvious favoritism to certain cats because they're comforting to me dfskaj

#Prefix - Detailed Prefix Talk, where I give information on my personal headcanoned prefixes that I use in this blog and in my own written Warriors works.

#Suffix - Detailed Suffix Talk, coming soon

#Writing Help - these are purely reblogs of random cat information, ranging from a little silly to serious. I try to keep any information in the tags of these posts, so feel free to keep an eye out!

#Becoming Warriors- just a more goofy thing because I wanted something that could help me relax. Pretty much a Warriors AU for other fandoms where I design other characters to be meow meows.

#Meowsic - where I share my own music to character ideas because I can and they're often empty headed rambles or short sentences

[also feel free to suggest posts! please only send the original posts, so not to repost from the original creators]

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other than that, you can expect just me chatting

I'm willing to share thoughts, talk about opinions, and I try to give a chill, open environment where we can just talk and hang out, sharing things we like or dislike about this fandom we all share.

I will always try my best to be open with everyone and treat people with kindness, but this is subject to change.

HOWEVER, I do not allow hostility and I will shut down anyone who comes in with a close mind and bitterness. I want this blog to be a safe place for people of all ages who just want to relax and share their feelings.

tldr; this is a chill place. everyone is free to disagree with my feelings about things, just don't be an asshole about it

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Family Tree For My Writing

note; this is only for canon-adjacent writing and may change depending on the AU

I will allow hypokits using my version of the family tree! however, you'll need to specify you want to use it.

this will also be a note for when I post the #request notifs

my RunningRunning AU has an entirely different family tree

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///AUs///

a compiled list of the AUs I've done can be found here

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///Headcanons///

all finished headcanons can be found here

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///More On Hypos///

With the blog getting bigger, I did want to add more information here, as this is the most popular topic of my blog other than the AUs themselves and as such I wanted to add some disclaimers and additional information.

Firstly, I do allow repeat couples! I don't mind making more litters, giving different stories, etc! So if you see a ship I've done and wanted a new take with different kits, feel free to suggest away! [you can even suggest some predetermined plot as long as it doesn't need to become a full AU]

the kits created via hypos are free to use with credit. they aren't my own OCs and more 'free to use' characters

However, there is a blacklist on certain ships, due to my own personal comfort levels. I will not be explaining them on here and the list is subject to being updated at any time. The blacklist will be shown below with other information;

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///Pre-existing Hypos///

all pre-existing hypos can be found here

///Did Once But Never Again///

Crowfeather x Harestar; x [forgot that Harespring was Breezepelt's age until I looked at his wiki page long after this was finished]

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I also have a Blacklist, so please check that out

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///Extra Hypo Notes///

I won't accept ships of;

Scourge [romance-repulsed aro-ace headcanon and shipping him gives me negative vibes for reasons I cannot explain]

Mousefur [another aro-ace headcanon but where I can put her in queer platonic relationships, I don't like the idea of giving her kits]

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I'm highly careful of ships for;

Fidgetflake, Daisy, Nightheart, Hollyleaf, Ravenpaw, Puddleshine, Sneezecloud, Badgerfang [in living AUs], Mosskit [in living AUs], Tallstar, Frecklewish [MV], Sunbeam, Lightleap, Bugeater

these are comfort characters for me

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///Disclaimer///

I'm free to remove requests that I have no ideas for / that I don't personally like without needing to explain myself

For the most part I've only needed to remove a small handful of things due to the latter reason, but the former is much more common

I'm also a slow writer with a fulltime job, so trying to stay active can be a bit hard, but I am constantly working on a bare minimum of two projects at a time in hopes that it increases the chances I can get things posted.

I ask that you don't post art/writing alongside that of Fullphilling's. This is for hugely personal reasons, esp since I've noticed their name spreading through the community again.

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AUs take the longest, followed by Hypos as both require a lot of planning.

Discussions just kinda happen at random when I think about things.

Show Me!'s aren't common, but don't take as long as I'm showing off pre-existing written things.

Help! and Rate My OC! vary depending on the amount of details given.

Headcanons happen at random unless requested

Prefixes [and eventually suffixes] get done whenever I put aside the time and are usually done in small bulks

[ootahime]

Another one, sorry! I'm ashamed to admit it because apparently I didn't understand it Why is Gojo paying Mei Mei? I assumed it was to promote his students, since the panels are followed. Thank you so much!! Keep writing more GojoHime theories and content please

don’t apologize bby <3 i’ll gladly answer all the questions you have 

i always tag my posts under gojohime because i don’t want the haters to discover this account.......

Why is Gojo paying Mei Mei?

You know, I thought he was paying Mei to promote his students too.  But as time went on, I realized this most likely isn’t the case.  Of course, I could always be wrong.  Let me get into it!

Mei Mei is not affiliated with the Jujutsu High branches because she works on her own accord.  She is an independent sorceress.  In Gojo’s point of view, she’s an ideal person to hire because she only works for the money.  Mei doesn’t care about anyone or anything, as long as cash is flowing in her bank account at the end of the day, she will carry out the job.  This aspect of Mei guarantees secrecy for Gojo because she won’t spill the beans about the traitors.  

Remember when Gojo told Mei that he noticed discrepancies in Yuuji’s footage during the Kyoto event?  Mei makes the excuse that crows will always be animals so she can’t fully control where they choose to look.  Gojo obviously doesn’t fall for her lies so he asks her which side she’s on to which she replies with “The side with money, of course.”  It’s clear at this point that Gakuganji paid Mei to keep the crows away from Yuuji so Gojo wouldn’t notice that the Kyoto kids are trying to assassinate his student.

Mei lies to protect her employer, Gakuganji.  As long as Mei is working under someone, she will always keep the mission information under wraps.  She won’t even tell Gojo about Gakuganji’s scheme.  

This probably seems off-topic but what I’m trying to say here is that assigning Mei with the task to unearth the moles would be a good choice on Gojo’s behalf because she will always keep her private missions a secret, which is beneficial for Gojo and Utahime because they don’t want to let it be known that they are aware that someone is feeding intel to curses and curse users.

Okay, now let’s answer why I don’t think Mei was paid by Gojo to promote his students.  

Before he deposited the money into Mei’s bank account, he was on a call with Utahime.  He was bragging about how the three first-year students each defeated a special grade curse on their own--thanks to his spectacular teaching.  It’s clear that he’s referring to Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara here.  

Then the two talk about Utahime’s progress with the investigation.  He ends the call thinking that it’s a hassle having to be careful because he doesn’t know who could be listening in on his conversations with Utahime.  This is where Mei could be useful!  He has to be extra cautious with Utahime because she’s a teacher that’s exposed to both the students and the Kyoto school staff.  It’d be hard for her to investigate because she could be close to the suspects.  In contrast, Mei is not associated with anyone so she would not have a problem snooping around.  Hiring Mei would be more convenient and much less of a risk for Gojo.  

After Mei receives the money and laughs, we are shown Mei and Todo recommending Panda, Maki, Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara for promotion.  

Mei recommends Panda and Maki while Todo recommends the trio.  Although Maki and Panda are close to Gojo, he is not their teacher anymore because he’s in charge of the first-years.  Atsuya Kusakabe is the one who’s in charge of the second-years.  If Gojo paid Mei to recommend his students then she should have said Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara instead.  I firmly believe that Mei and Todo were impressed by the feats of those they recommended for promotion, therefore their actions are sincere.  Mei did acknowledge Maki’s abilities during the event, after all.  We also know that Todo is a genuine guy, he would not recommend anyone if he didn’t deem them to be worthy, even Yuuji.  

In my mind, it’s out of character for Gojo to consider promoting his students to Grade 1 in such an dishonest way.  Early in the story, Gojo reveals that his dream is to have strong allies that are willing to help him change the jujutsu system for the better.  As he is talking about his dream to Ijichi, there’s a panel of Gojo with his students standing alongside him to represent that him and his students are on equal terms.  They are as strong, if not even stronger than him in his dream.  He wants to foster the next generation of sorcerers to be exceptionally strong, yes, but he doesn’t want to take shortcuts.  

I’m sure everyone is aware that Gojo is a super childish guy.  I find it funny because when he was a little kid, he was so serious.  I think all of the responsibilities that come with being the strongest stripped him of a good childhood so he made up for it over the years by acting like a complete toddler.  The whole incident with Riko, Geto, and even Haibara, once again emphasized to him that being a sorcerer is no easy job.  At this point, he’s seen the death of so many innocent children because they’re unfortunate enough to be involved in a system that not only fails to protect them but exploits their efforts as well.  He absolutely hates the higher ups for making it this way.  He doesn’t want the students to suffer like him and his classmates did when they should be out having fun and doing what normal kids do.  

When you are a Grade 1 sorcerer, you are expected to adhere to the standards of perfection in jujutsu society.  You will have to make sacrifices you don’t want to make.  The death of those around you is inevitable.  Ultimately, being a Grade 1 sorcerer demands one to harden their heart.  In one of the light novels, Gojo follows Nanami to Hokkaido because Nanami was on a mission there and Gojo wanted to make a request.  I’m too lazy to go back and read it so I’ll just have to rely on my memory.  What I say is accurate but likely out of order.  Anyway, after they finished the job Nanami sought out to do, they have a conversation about sorcery.  Gojo basically admits that being a sorcerer never gets easier, even for him, because he, like many others, experiences traumatic events daily as a part of his job.  They then go to a bar and Gojo asks Nanami to take Yuuji under his wing because he believes Nanami has a lot to teach him.  I don’t remember much out of the conversation but I do remember Gojo saying something along the lines of, “I don’t want to see Yuuji’s smile fade--not even once.”  This statement suggests that he wants to preserve the innocence of such a pure boy like Yuuji.  Nanami thinks the same because he tells Yuuji that being a child is not a sin.  

Gojo wants to protect his students’ childhoods.  It is unlike him to pay Mei to promote his students to Grade 1 because he knows that would mean they would have to leave behind their youth to be another casualty in the cruelty that is jujutsu society.  He doesn’t want them to be exploited by the elders.  Like I said before, of course he wants them to be strong, but paying his way to his goal is not characteristic of Gojo Satoru.  

[scripttorture]

One of the central characters in a fantasy story I'm writing has torture as part of her backstory. She was captured by an evil race, and one individual in particular put her through a "training" regime designed to turn her into a useful/trustworthy slave. Specifically the goals of the training were:

- destroy her sense of self / agency

- overwrite her ingrained response of healing herself when injured (she has magical healing powers)

- an affectionate or worshipful disposition towards her captors

- immediate obedience to any command

I feel like both physical and psychological torture / mental conditioning are probably appropriate, though I'm leaning away from including sexual abuse. I honestly don't know much about torture at all and the only things that come to mind as producing a result similar to what I'm looking for are the Game of Thrones torture sequence and the use of obdience collars in the Codex Alera book series. The latter is very interesting to me because it is a magical device that inflicts pain in reaction to disobedience but also inflicts pleasure to reward obedience.

I guess I'm just wondering if you have any advice for what kinds of methods would be good to include in a process designed to produce obedience, rather than torture for its own sake or to extract information, as well as if there are any common pitfalls I should try to avoid in writing about such a thing.

The training itself won't be in the book, but I need to be familiar with it for backstory purposes because later in the story this character encounters her torturer again, and is subjected to some further abuse before she finally overcomes her fear and kills him.

Alright well I’m going to be straight up with you: the scenario you’ve presented is a very common torture apologist trope. It’s incredibly unrealistic. And it’s unrealistic in ways that support torture by claiming it can be ‘useful’.

 Which probably means that you’re new to the blog and haven’t heard me give this talk before. That’s OK, we all learn sometime and it’s not my intention to shame you for the fact you’re not as obsessed with this stuff as I am or couldn’t afford to shell out for the books.

 Torture does not produce obedience. The best evidence we have right now suggests it encourages active resistance.

 If you got a lot of your inspiration from Game of Thrones then frankly I’m not surprised you came up with apologia. The torture in that series is incredibly badly handled. And a big part of the point of running this blog is that most people are getting their information on torture from shows like that. Which happens because the research is inaccessible and hasn’t been popularised the way fictional tropes (sometimes fictional tropes literally started by torturers) have been popularised.

 The important thing is what you choose to do now.

 I’m going to break down the problems here and make some suggestions for what you could do instead.

 Firstly: there is no torture or abuse that will guarantee obedience. Pain does not make people meek or compliant or willing to follow commands.

 Torture survivors are not broken.

 They are not ‘controlled’ by their torturers and the suggestion that they are is used in the real world to bar real survivors from treatment. It is also used to bar them from entering safe countries and to argue that they shouldn’t be allowed visas or passports.

 The best statistics we have for any sort of compliance under torture come from analysis of historical French data where torture was used to try and force confessions (something we know torture can sometimes do).

 The ‘success’ rate averaged at 10%. Under torture 90% of people will not comply long enough to sign their name.

 Secondly: torture does not and can not ‘make’ a victim feel ‘worshipful’ towards their torturer. The suggestion is kind of like asking if someone can tap dance immediately after removing the bones from their legs.

 Torturers have no control over a victim’s emotions. They have no control over their symptoms. They have no control over their beliefs.

 And there is no such thing as a torture that can change someone’s mind in a way torturers can control.

 Once again, this fictional trope is used by politicians and the media to justify marginalising real torture survivors.

 I have read hundreds, possibly thousands, of accounts from torture survivors. I’ve read historic and modern accounts. I’ve read accounts from all sort of people from all over the globe. I have never seen a survivor say anything positive about their torturers. I have never seen anything close to toleration.

 A lot of survivors are blisteringly angry at their torturers. A lot of them feel overwhelming levels of spite and some report literally putting themselves at risk of death in order to spite their torturers. And yes, a lot of them are afraid too. None of these emotions are mutually exclusive.

 Affection is impossible. We are not wired that way.

 Thirdly: I understand that ‘evil races’ are a long standing fantasy trope but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the racism inherent in that idea. That some people are ‘born bad’.

 I’d strongly suggest you look up the Black, Indian and First Nations people that I know are on this site critiquing these kinds of fantasy tropes. Because they will be able to explain it better then I can.

 Fourthly: the term ‘psychological torture’ is a pretty common dog whistle for torture apologia.

 Most of the time tortures that people dub ‘psychological’ are things with real, physical effects that lead to lasting injury and death. They just don’t tend to leave obvious external scars. I use Rejali’s term ‘clean torture’ for these techniques. Researchers distinguish them from scarring tortures because they are harder to detect and prove in court.

 The majority of survivors today will have experienced clean torture. They will have no obvious physical scars. But they will still be disabled. They’re ‘just’ less likely to see any form of justice for it.

 Fifthly: torture is a terrible training method because it decreases a person’s ability to learn.

 Torture causes memory problems. It also often causes lasting physical injuries that make performing basic tasks more difficult. And it causes a lot of serious psychological problems which make performing basic tasks more difficult.

 A trained person who was never tortured will always out perform someone whose training involved torture.

 I probably sound quite angry here.

 I write fantasy and I also write about torture a lot. But I can’t imagine that it’s just flavour for a fantasy world or some artefact of the past. Torture is a real, present threat in the country that I grew up in. If I was to return now I could, literally, be tortured and executed.

 If you want to include torture in your world, in your story then you are committing to telling someone else’s story. You are representing an incredibly marginalised group of people and you are presenting that representation to a third group, one that has never had contact with real torture survivors.

 Are you comfortable with the idea of telling your peers that survivors are still controlled by ‘the enemy’? That they’re passive? That they don’t have the capacity to make their own decisions?

 Are you comfortable knowing that the popularity of this message keeps millions of genocide survivors in refugee camps, blocked from citizenship, aid and safety?

 I understand feeling attached to a story and a character. And I understand that this information is hard to find. Hell I’m probably going to end up with the only English copy of one of the pivotal textbooks because I’m shelling out to get it translated.

 You say you want to write a torture survivor. With respect I don’t think you know what a torture survivor looks like.

 I think the most helpful, and kindest, thing I can do here is describe what torture does to people. Because I can’t tell you whether that’s something you want to write. I could try and rebuild this scenario for you (and if you decide you’re interested in that after reading all of this and all the links then I suggest looking through the blog tags for ICURE, torture as training, Black Widow and Overwatch.) But I think you need to decide whether you actually want to write a torture survivor first.

 Here’s a post on the most common torture apologia tropes.

 Here’s the post on the types of memory problems torture commonly causes. I strongly recommend picking at least one.

 Remember that this would never go away. Improvement and recovery in torture survivors means learning to live with symptoms. The symptoms themselves are permanent.

 It’s a hundred different alarms set up on their phone to try and make up for the forgetfulness that makes them miss appointments. It’s the little bottle of perfume in their pocket to bring themselves back to reality when they get intrusive memories at work.

 Here’s a post on the other common symptoms.

 You want something in the range of 3-5 of those, though more are likely if your character is held for years. Each of them should be severe. Every single symptom should have a large, negative, impact on the character’s daily life.

 Do you know anyone with chronic pain? It warps their world. Work can become impossible. Basic household tasks like getting dressed, cooking, cleaning the dishes are done through gritted teeth or not at all. Hobbies and ‘fun’ activities dwindle as they struggle to find a way to do them that doesn’t hurt. Interaction with other people, even loved ones, can easily become barbed.

 Because the pain makes everything more difficult. It means everything takes more energy, more effort. Which means that things fall by the wayside, whether that’s by a pile of mouldering dishes in the sink or snapping at a child. It means tears and the social judgement that follows them. It means the world narrowing as it gets harder to go out.

 Do you see what I mean? Every part of life.

 That’s an example for one symptom. You need to work out at least four. Then figure out how they interact. Then figure out what the character can do to make her life better.

 With chronic pain that can mean painkillers but it’s always more then that. It’s re-learning how to do things; how to put on trousers without aggravating the bad knee, how to sew with one hand. It means learning to cut down on what they do and it means learning a new sort of flexibility; accepting that there are days when the pain is too much.

 It can mean having the same conversation about disability over and over again. With family, with friends, with colleagues. ‘I can’t do that.’ ‘I can do that sometimes but not always.’ ‘That will hurt me.’ ‘I can’t use that chair.’ ‘I can’t get my arms that high above my shoulders.’ ‘I need help with this.’

 And that sometimes means learning a kind of patience that is really barely held back rage. Or perhaps I’m projecting a little with this last one.

 If you’ve never met a torture survivor, if you’ve never looked at a survivor’s work, then all this is difficult. You’re trying to imagine something from first principals with nothing to fall back on.

 So let’s bring some survivors into the discussion here. Some reality.

 Who’s listened to Fela? How about Bobi Wine?

 Fela Kuti was the father of modern Afro beats music. He was tortured multiple times and during one attack, which destroyed his home, his mother was murdered by the military. When he got out of jail Fela marched her funeral procession past the biggest barracks in Nigeria’s biggest city. He wrote two songs about this attack and he doubled down on his opposition to the military government.

 Fela’s music started causing riots.

 You can read what I have to say about him here. You can listen to his music on youtube.

 Here’s an interview with Bobi Wine, which was conducted shortly after he was tortured in Uganda. He talked about how he was determined to go back and continue fighting. Which he did. He even ran against the president.

 I’ve also got a short piece on Searle who was a cartoonist captured by the Japanese during World War 2. His drawings of what happened in To the Kwai and Back are worth seeing. Especially if you want to write atrocities on this scale. They will show you the scale and how to focus on the small, human elements despite that overwhelming scale.

 Alleg’s The Question is pretty much a must, it’s one of the most thorough accounts from the Franco-Algerian war.

 Monroe’s A Darkling Plain is also a must, it’s a series of interviews with survivors of various different conflicts and atrocities. Some are torture survivors. Some are not. It is essential reading because it shows the variety in survivors as well as giving a sense of their lives beyond the symptoms.

 Finally Amnesty International has literally hundreds of interviews and studies available for free online.

 The most important decision for any story with regards to torture is whether it should be there at all.

 So much of this topic is intimidating and so much of it is difficult to write. Not just in the ‘oh this is horribly effecting’ sense but in the ‘I have twelve things to juggle in this simple scene’ sense.

 Ask yourself what torture adds to this character and this story. What does this backstory actually give this character?

 Because if the point is to have her vulnerable and then ultimately triumphing violently over her attackers I don’t think you want a torture scenario. You could get the same thing from a bad guy trying to drug her and having the kidnapping fail when she fights him off, clumsy but effective nonetheless.

 And she could still come out of something like that traumatised.

 Right now I really don’t see this adding anything but torture apologia to your story.

 Handling torture well in a story means accepting that it can’t be the same story without it. It means watching the characters and narrative warp under the weight of it. It means lasting effects, for all the characters and for the world itself.

 I believe you are capable of writing that if you want to, pet. But this ain’t it.

Edit: I’m having trouble seeing the beginning of the answer here. Can anyone let me know if there are formatting issues again please? The first word in the htmal is ‘Alright’ but what I’m seeing on tumblr starts 8 paragraphs in.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[rebelwrites]

Trying Not To Love You

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N: This is Part Two To “Can’t Give Her What She Wants” But Could Be Read As A Stand Alone Fic. I Just Couldn’t Leave It How I Did 😂 Rebel Isn’t Good With Angst Without A Happy Ending.

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Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

You call to me, and I fall at your feet. How could anyone ask for more? And our time apart, like knives in my heart. How could anyone ask for more? But if there's a pill to help me forget, God knows I haven't found it yet. But I'm dying to, God I'm trying to.

The moment Jase saw the cheap bottle of whiskey on the coffee table alongside one of Clay’s dog tags laying next to it, he knew what type of night you had. It had only been a month since you and Clay went your separate ways and everyone could see how much it was hurting both of you. He also knew that after your party for one you would definitely need some strong coffee.

“Hey sleepy” Jase said, nudging you as he put a fresh coffee on the table.

“Urgh” you groaned pulling the duvet over your head.

“I see you enjoyed a party on your own last night kiddo” he said pulling the duvet off you.

“Enjoyed wouldn’t be the word I would use” you sighed running your hand over your face before reaching for the coffee and grabbing Clay’s dog tags running you finger over the engraving. “Unless you class knocking back shit whiskey and crying as a good night, then yeah it was a good night”

“It will get easier” Jase said sitting next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder “I mean you’ve been camping on my sofa for the last month now, and that tells me you aren’t ready to give up on hope yet”

“Or I just don’t want to be alone so at least I have Emma and Mikey around when you aren’t” you sighed. “I just want this constant ache in my chest to go away, nothing helps me forget Jase and right now I want to forget”

“Well can I suggest taking a shower” he laughed trying to lighten the mood. “Because you smell like a brewery”

“I’m gonna go for a run” you said, sipping your coffee before slipping the dog tags around your neck, tucking them into the hoodie that belonged to Clay. No matter how much you tried to get rid of the hoodie and dog tags you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. “I need to try and clear my head”

“The boys are coming over soon, so if you aren’t ready to see him yet I’d go soon” Jase sighed squeezing your shoulder he hated how much this was affecting the both of you.

'Cause trying not to love you, only goes so far. Trying not to need you, is tearing me apart. Can't see the silver lining, from down here on the floor. And I just keep on trying, but I don't know what for. 'Cause trying not to love you. Only makes me love you more.

The moment Clay walked into Jase’s house his senses were attacked by the smell of the body spray you always used, he knew you were staying here even if you weren't speaking to him, the sight of your trainers on the shoe rack, made his heart hurt. They were only simple things but everything that related to you made that cut just that bit deeper.

No matter how much he tried not to love you it only made him love you more, Sonny was right you were his other half and life without you was hell.

The moment he walked into the living room, he saw Jase folding up the duvet, placing it in the corner of the room along with the pillows and the teddy bear that you only slept with when you slept alone. He also spotted one of his hoodies thrown over the back of the sofa.

“Is she here?” Clay asked.

“She’s gonna for a run” Jase sighed “she needed to clear her head and shift the hangover she has from nailing a bottle of cheap whiskey”

“How is she doing?” Clay asked as he picked up the empty bottle.

“She’s hurting, just like you are” Jase said with a sad smile.

“I just don’t know what to do” Clay sighed as he sat on the sofa resting his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. “Where do I go from here? I’m trying not to love her but it’s only making me love her more”

“You just got to give it time man” Sonny said squeezing Clay’s shoulder. “It’s only been a month”

“I’m just lost without her”

And this kind of pain, only time takes away. That's why it's harder to let you go. And nothing I can do, without thinking of you. That's why it's harder to let you go. But if there's a pill to help me forget, God knows I haven't found it yet. But I'm dying to, God I'm trying to.

No matter where he went or what he did, he was tormented with memories of you, everything he did always came back to you making things harder. No matter how much he tried to forget he couldn’t. Everyone was right, you were his other half, the person that made everything better.

So he found himself knocking back the shots, distancing himself from his brothers, trying to do anything he could to forget the pain he was feeling. But nothing was working, he couldn’t bring himself to change his lockscreen. Pulling his phone out he stared at the picture of the two of you that was taken around a year ago, he was pressing you against the wall and you were both looking into each other’s eyes with smiles that shine brightly.

He knew he shouldn’t but he found himself writing a text out to you but deleted it before he even sent it.

It's trying not to love you, only goes so far. Trying not to need you, is tearing me apart. Can't see the silver lining, from down here on the floor. And I just keep on trying, but I don't know what for. 'Cause trying not to love you. Only makes me love you more.

“I’ve never seen either of them this low before” Ray said leaning against the counter of Jason’s kitchen.

“I don’t think any of us have” Sonny sighed. Their voices were hushed as you were only on the sofa in the next room. “They are both putting away a serious amount of alcohol to try and numb the pain”

“You do know you aren’t as quiet as you think” you said walking into the kitchen, all their eyes landed on Clay’s hoodie you were still wearing. It no longer smelt of him but you couldn’t part with it, it was like your comfort blanket. “Jase you are in my way”

“I’m not moving,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m cutting you off the spirits”

“Fine I will just go to the pub then” you huffed storming out of the kitchen.

You knew drinking wasn’t the answer but for a short period of time it numbed the pain, but it never lasted too long.

“We should go with her” Ray sighed. “With how she is feeling she’s gonna start a fight just to feel something other than the heartache she’s feeling”

“I know someone else who is exactly the same” Sonny sighed “but maybe this will work, they haven’t been in the same room as each other for the last two months and I know full well Clay is at the pub”

“You think that maybe if they see one another they might come to their senses?” Jase asked.

“Exactly that”

The moment you walked into the bar you ordered a couple of drinks, tucking yourself into the corner where no one would see you. But from across the room you spotted one person whose mood reflected yours. Maybe coming here was a bad idea, you knew he would be here but was this your heart's way of saying that you needed him.

Leaning back into the chair you watched from across the room having an internal battle on whether you should just go over to him or not.

So I sit here divided, just talking to myself. Was it something that I did? Was there somebody else? When a voice from behind me, that was fighting back tears. Sat right down beside me, and whispered right in my ear. Tonight I'm dying to tell you. That trying not to love you, only went so far. Trying not to need you, was tearing me apart.

“Hey little buddy” Sonny said, sitting beside Clay. “You know it’s bad luck to drink alone right”

“Maybe I want to be alone” Clay sighed.

“Just reach out to her man” Jase said, pulling the beer bottle to his lips. “We all know that you and Y/N are just being stubborn, trust me she is no fun to live with at the moment”

“Yeah well we both decided to go separate ways” Clay snapped.

“Oh come on man you and everyone else knows that you two are meant to be together” Sonny said, glancing across the room to see Ray chatting to you, he didn’t know what was being said but he saw the tears in your eyes as you nodded, standing to your feet and started walking across the room. “But if you want to sit here feeling sorry for yourself then who are we to stop you” nodding at Jase they both stood up leaving him alone but knew he wouldn’t be alone for long.

“Clay” you sniffed fighting back tears as you sat opposite him. You waited until he looked up, his mood matching yours. “I can’t do this anymore”

“Do what?” He whispered looking into your tear filled eyes.

“Be apart from you any longer” you said fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie you were still wearing. “I’ve tried everything in me not to love you anymore but it only got me so far and if I’m being honest it only made me love you more and the more I tried not to need you just tore me apart”

You didn’t expect him to reach across the table, squeezing your hand, the contact making your heart feel a little lighter.

Now I see the silver lining of what we're fighting for. And if we just keep on trying, we could be much more.

“I think we made a mistake “ he whispered, brushing his thumb over your hand, sending sparks through your body. “The last two months just made me realise I don’t want anything other than you, I don’t want this life if you aren’t by my side”

“What we had was so special even if the last couple of months wasn’t the best” you whispered “we didn’t go about it like adults would, we let the communication break down. But I can’t do this without you, and I don’t want to do it without you” reaching out you placed your hand on his cheek as a smile appeared on Clay’s face.

“We gave up fighting for love but I see it now, maybe we can try again” he whispered, his blue eyes glistening with hope as well as tears.

“I’m willing if you are baby” you whispered, brushing your thumb over his cheek as his smile grew.

“Maybe Sonny was right all this time, soulmates always find a way back together” he whispered before leaning across the table placing a gentle kiss against your lips. “It’s a nice night tonight. What do you say we go for a walk?”

“Just like our first date” you said laughing for the first time in months, standing up you held your hand out in front of him, he wasted no time standing up linking his fingers between yours as you left the pub without saying bye to the guys.

You always believed that having a soul mate was a bunch of bullshit, until this moment. You both knew that you wouldn’t go back to how you were a year ago and it would take time and a lot of communication but it was a road you were both willing to travel, no matter how long it took.

'Cause trying not to love you. Oh, yeah, trying not to love you. Only makes me love you more.

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @everyhowlmarksthedead @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitsnicolexo @phoenixhalliwell

[moretinyideas]

Under The Rain [4] | Oh Sehun

Lunar Myths Saga Story One

genre: wolf!sehun x human!female reader (oc - min yuna)

chapter summary: There’s nothing like a car drive to spike both your curiosities and your anxieties. Although, there’s nothing like a good laugh at the expensive of a moody werewolf and a cute little cat.

words: 2286

a little shorter than I was planning but like listen - I rewrote this six times bc I'm a piece of shit, but I like this one. However! I’m sorry if it sucks. ALSO next update is the second story of season one :) Guess Who! songs that got me through the chapter include Friends by Raye, Strangers by Sigrid and Uncover by SHINee :) Enjoy.

tags; @marshmallow-phd @bri-ne @high-on-food @asslikegilinsky @chanyeolol uhh sorry :)

[ml] [one] [two] [three] [four]

More Of A Cat Person

Your apartment door was still locked when you got there. That was a good sign, right? Inside, nothing was over turned or in a place you don’t remember being there. The lights were off apart from the dim lights in the kitchen – you always leave them on, so you don’t come home to pitch-black-darkness.

“I’ll go get Euina.”

“Pack a small bag.” Sehun suggested with a small smile. You left him to rest his ankle on one of the bean bags and rushed into your bedroom, stopping to sit on the edge of the mattress next to her. You gently placed a hand on Euina’s shoulder and rocked her slight.

“Wake up little dove.” You whispered, watching as her eyes fluttered open.

“Unnie? What time is it?” She answered, her voice scratchy and her eyes squinting as you switched on the light.

“It’s almost five in the morning. Something happened, and we have to stay someplace else for a few nights. You can go back to sleep in the car, okay? Can you get a change of clothes ready for me, little dove? We have to be quick.”

She got out of the bed and went to her little chest where she kept her clothes. “What happened? Are you okay?” She asked, her attention on her hands. She had always been good at listening to you when you were serious. And she knew you hated waking her up, so it must have been serious.

“I can explain it better later, okay, when we’re out of here.” You replied, grabbing a handful of black leggings and shoving them into one of your hiking backpacks.

“How long are we leaving for?” you heard Euina ask from behind you. Shrugging, even though she most likely didn’t see you, you opened your underwear draw and shoved a handful of underwear and three different bras into the bag.

“A couple of days, i don’t know.” You replied after a few seconds.

“A few days? Then we need to take Tuttle!”

Your motions froze for a second as you came to remember that you owned a pet. A small cat, affectionately names Tuttle as a kitten by your sister. She wanted to call him Turtle but at the young age of three when she was still getting the hang of pronunciation. Tuttle was almost ten years old, small yet mischievous (she really liked knocking mugs off of tables) and she loved being cuddled. She was a Russian Blue, her fur on the darker side of steel-grey with big, round green eyes that seemed to always be curious. Tuttle was a present for your twelfth birthday however, you had let Euina name her because you wanted to share her with your baby sister. You always wanted to share things with Euina, especially after your parents had left.

“Well, we’ll just take her with us. Don’t bother with her cage just grab her okay, I’ll get some packets of food in a minute.” You concluded, zipping up your bag. “And before you get her, grab another pair of my trainers please.” You walked from your room to your bathroom, shoving practically all of the contents you own from the shelves into a zip lock bag. You threw it onto your bed next to Euina’s open bag before making your way back into the main room of your apartment. You spotted Sehun straight away, he wasn’t sitting anymore but you didn’t particularly care at this moment - you didn’t have the tome to. You flipped the switch to brighten the lights and grabbed a plastic bag from a metal shelf free-standing next to the fridge.

“We have food.”

You swore your eyes could have rolled into the next dimension. You weren’t an idiot, there were at least seven people living under the roof Sehun called home - of course they had food. You’d be willing to bet that there were even more of them - considering the snippets of conversations you heard about names people you hadn’t met yet.

“Do you have cat food?” you asked, making your voice light and innocent, turning to face him with a small smile, tying the plastic handles in a knot. Sehun’s confused expression dropped at your words, before his brow began to furrow. He looked confused. /Cute/. The smile on your face grew naturally, you didn’t even feel it as you patted his shoulder to move past him. You walked back to your bedroom to help Euina finish up but you could hear him following.

“Why do you need cat food?” He asked once you were in the room. Apparently, both of you had forgotten that Euina had no idea he was here. She turned to face him before you did, mouth open and eyes narrowed.

“For Tuttle, who areyou?” She asked, zipping her back closed with a sharp tug.

“Sehun. Who’s Tuttle?”

“My cat.” You replied, picking her up from where she had padded over to you on your bed. You turned to face him with a small smile but, when you looked up to see the expression he was pulling you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. He was glaring, at Tuttle, like she was his worst enemy. He looked like a mix between a toddler who had just had his favourite toy taken away and a man who was extremely close to losing his shit after a long day of listening to his annoying desk partner. You handed Euina Tuttle.

“Let’s go, shall we?” You grabbed both Euina’s and your bags having packed everything into them – you were efficient, they fit. However, before you could sling both of them over your shoulders, Sehun grabbed one of them and slung it over his own – broad– shoulder. You didn’t know which one he had but you suspected that it didn’t really matter. Euina left before the both of you, Sehun trailing after the thirteen-year-old like a lost puppy, and you switched off the lights before scanning the room in case you left anything. You grabbed a small cat toy from the floor.

“We’re taking my car.” You announced, making your way back into the main room, giving the carrot toy to Euina for Tuttle to play with. “I’m driving.” You cut Sehun off, his mouth opened as if to protest. “Danbi said not to use your ankle.” You reminded him quietly, patting his shoulder. You made the split decision to switch off all the lights (you didn’t know when you’d be coming back, and you were not paying an extra bill for lights on during the day) and grabbed all the keys from the bowl you kept them in. You lived on the third floor of the eight-floor apartment block, you didn’t have to use the elevator – it was quicker to use the stairs anyway – so, you used the stairs. Your car was parked in your usual spot. You didn’t need to use your car very often, only when you were taking Euina back to your aunts or if you wanted to visit one of your favourite food places on the other side of town, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t drive.

Both Sehun and Euina were quiet as the three of you found your car, a black five-door Ford Focus (you didn’t know much else, you don’t particularly care about cars), and piled in. Euina sat in the back with Tuttle, laying down over the seats, seatbelt around her waist. You always had blankets in your car, in case she wanted to sleep or if she got cold, so she simply grabbed one to pull over herself. Tuttle scooted under one of Euina’s arms, paws next to her face. You knew Euina had questions, you could tell by the tone of her voice when she said she’d try and sleep more, but you were grateful she kept them to herself for the time being.

You honestly had no idea what you would tell her.

Once out on the roads you turned to Sehun, having come to a conclusion. “Where do you live?” You asked lowly. You switched on the radio (The CD player – you were never one for listening to adverts) and turned the volume down to almost a mumble, so the car wasn’t silent. You knew Euina couldn’t sleep in silence.

“Turn left, I’ll direct you.” Sehun answered. You turned left.

After what felt like an hour (fifteen minutes) of nothing but the music too low for you to focus on and Sehun’s occasional chiming’s of where to go you had to break the non-silent-silence. “What am I going to tell her? She’s not stupid. And she knows when I lie.” You asked. You weren’t sure why you added the last part, you hardly knew Sehun – he didn’t need to know you couldn’t lie to your baby sister to save your life. “Am I even allowed to tell her about you guys? Was I even allowed to know? What–”

Sehun cut you off, placing a large hand on your knee. You wanted to look down at it, but you kept your eyes on the road. It was beginning to get lighter as the early morning broke its way through the horizon, but it was still quite dark, and you had no idea where you were going. “You would’ve known eventually.” He said quietly, after a few seconds.

“I would’ve?” Your voice was just as quiet. Your shoulders relaxed, not that you had stiffened when his hand came into contact with your knee, not seeing the need to be ‘at odds’ with him. Not right now anyway.

He nodded, a movement you caught from the corner of your eye. “I would’ve told you eventually.” He paused. “In fact, I think I may have blurted it out on our date, if you had gotten the chance to accept. Turn right.”

A smile crept on your face as you slowed to turn. You had been driving for almost half an hour by now. It was a strange feeling, the emotions you felt in your tummy. Your eyebrows creased in confusion. “Why me?” You asked, voice a dash above a whisper.

He heard it nonetheless.

“It’s a wolf thing.” Was his reply. Was it just you or were things getting a little awkward. God, you hated awkward. His words sparked a feeling of de-ja-vu in your head. Now, you had read the Twilight Saga: sparkly vampires and raging werewolves. You had a thing for werewolf, ironic to know now, but Euina had taken a liking to the series in both book and film form.

“Did you just quote Twilight?” You almost laughed. He did laugh. You joined in not long after, sparing a glance at his profile. He really was quite pretty.

“Not quite.” He looked back at you. You looked back at the road. “Next left.”

You left your question alone for a few minutes, biting down on your lip in a poor attempt to keep it from slipping. ‘What’s a wolf thing?’ Before you could actually ask, you took the turn and not even a minute later the outline of a house could be seen. As you drove closer, the house grew bigger (perspective, a funny thing) and bigger. The house, if you could call it a house, was huge. It seemed to have at least three floors, with seven windows lining the front of the building. The walls were white, the bottom floors walls had been replaced with ceiling high windows – a warm light coming from what you assumed was a living room. The drive way was long and the land that surrounded the house seemed to conceal it. It was beautiful. You looked back to him with an astonished look. “You live in a mansion?”

Sehun broke into a laugh again, “I do.” He nodded with a grin forming on his lips. “With my eleven brothers and three of their mates.” He pointed across the car and you followed, stopping next to another car. This spot would have to do. The word mate had caught your ears, ringing around them as if the word was the most important word for you right now. You shook your head a little and took the keys out of ignition.

“I knew there’d be more of you.” You mumbled, hands falling into your lap, one brushing his on the fall. Neither of you went to move. You finally looked down at his hand on your leg, a small wave of butterflies flying through you as you finally recognised the gesture. They were gone after a moment. When you looked up, Sehun was already looking at you. His eyes shone green once again. You knew you had to ask your question. Or maybe you’d do something you’d regret with your sister in the back of the car.

You knew you were attracted to the man next to you. You knew that there was a connection between the two of you. You also knew that he was a werewolf. A werewolf like the ones from your favourite myth. It had been a while since you had re-read it, but you knew the just of mates. Although, you had never quite understood the term. Before you chickened out (you were no chicken) you moved a hand over his and asked your question. “What’s a wolf thing?”

He took a few seconds to, well, move. His eyes zeroed in in where your hand held his, which held your knee. Then his eyes met your own and he opened his mouth to answer. A small meow filled the silence before he could. Your eyes closed, a smiled forming as you tried to keep your laughter from escaping.

Great timing Tuttle.

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