#or both frankly – like you mentioned they honestly are probably affiliated !

[pyshcic]

⤳   @mahdinate​​​,    𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴,   asked:     ‹ there is no peace without blood, and so it shall be. ›

historically, the sentiment is sound, but it spurs a strange sensation of dread that originates in a very deep recess of alice's chest, and in a cheap attempt at levity she forces herself to smile. a warm, gentle thing which she presses comfortingly into her knees, arms wrapped tightly to hug her legs in towards her chest. it appears in part as though she embraces herself so as not to let it escape her, as if, frightful, it might run off from her. an itch can be felt just behind her left temple, a growing discomfort: it would do to claw out her own eyes. she considers it a blessing that alia proves a blind spot for her, finding the future eluding her –– though its inability to focus is aided by her own unwillingness to see, a cautious and meticulous effort being put into staving off the itch at her temple, gaze clouding and sharpening in a single moment's time. 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚍. however it does, it cannot end well. no apollonian burden was required to see tragedy etched in the sincerity of alia's countenance.

“ well. ... your resolve makes it sound simple. almost easy. but certainly decided. ” she still wears her smile, a peculiar intermingling of horror and admiration in her expression, awkwardly contrasting and supporting the gentle shakiness in her tone. “ you'd go to war for this ( ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᶦᵒⁿ –– ᵃᶜᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿᶦᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵇʳᵒʷ ) –– you will, won't you? ”

[akitokihojo]

Delicate - Chapter 9

“Well, well. Found you.”

An uncomfortable thud knocked inside of Kagome’s chest at the potential threat presented before her. Sango had stopped alongside Kagome, gazing toward the man she must only see as a mystery. Kagome had never told her what had happened.

“Been a while.” Renkotsu cocked a thin brow, notching his chin up in a feeble and arrogant greeting.

“Not long enough.” Kagome said, adjusting her book bag casually, preparing her excuse to slip through. “And, we’re running late, so gotta go.”

“For what? Gotta pick up your kid brother from school? Or, maybe his friend’s house this time?” He asked, his smile growing a little wider.

“Excuse me?” Her tone piqued, approaching incredulous. How would he know she even had a little brother?

“He’s a cute kid. I’d say, in a few years, he’ll probably be taller than you.”

“What are you, a stalker?” Sango asked, immediately defensive. A scowl pinched at her face immediately, staring the guy down with plenty of indignation. 

“Stalker’s a bit of a stretch.” He shrugged, appearing amused. “We’re old friends.”

“No. We’re not. Did you actually follow me home!?” Kagome pressed angrily.

“No, no, no. Nothing like that. What do I look like, a felon?” He chuckled. “I noticed you walking with the kid one day, and saw your school uniform. Isn’t that difficult to narrow down the field, especially when you innocently plant yourself on the path multiple times to confirm you’ve got the right institution. The rest is history.”

“Sounds like stalking to me.”

“Well, how about you go get your boyfriend, and he and I will sort this out.” He suggested, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did warn you two.”

“Kagome…” Sango gave a gentle yank to her sleeve, pulling her attention so she’d notice the direction Sango was looking in. A man was crossing the street, eyes on them and grin minacious. His hair was black, long, tied back in a braid, his hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans, and shoulders relaxed like he owned the scene.

“What is this?” Kagome asked, turning back to Renkotsu.

“I was told to handle my dirty work, myself, so here I am.” The unwelcome man said, his voice smooth and mature, sauntering passed the two girls to stand beside Renkotsu. “How’s it going?”

“What’s going on?” Sango demanded, stepping closer to her friend so they were shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Which one’s which?” The new guy asked, pointing between the girls, his wrist loose to express his ease in their tension.

Renkotsu pointed to Kagome. “That’s his girl.” Then pointed to Sango. “Don’t know who she is.”

“Oh.” The guy smiled. “You can go, then.”

“We’ll be going. My dad’s expecting us both in ten minutes.” Sango fibbed.

“Then, I suggest you leave and make up an excuse for your friend here. Because, she’s not going with you.”

“Who the hell are you guys!?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but my name’s Bankotsu. And, I’m sure you’re gonna ask what we want next, so to get it out of the way, she - what’s your name, doll?” He asked, directing the question to Kagome.

Her lip curled in distaste, hating the nickname, and with a heavy roll of her eyes, she said, “Kagome.”

“Kagome’s gotten herself into a bit of trouble.”

“What, because I pushed him and called him a couple of mean names?” Kagome asked Bankotsu, though she stared Renkotsu down, watching his jaw clench. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“You want to act tough, but you don’t want to reap what you sow? Huh? Is that what I’m hearing? I warned you. If you had just left it alone when I told you to, you wouldn’t be involved in Inuyasha’s mess. Sure, degrade me all you want, but this is your problem now, bitch.”

“Hey! Back off!” Sango yelled, her shoulders squaring as Renkotsu marched forward a few paces. “I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t let us through right now!”

Bankotsu sighed impatiently, his easy expression fading as he lolled his head to the side and gently knocked on Renkotsu’s shoulder to signal for him to step away from the girls. “There’s no need for that.” He gave a brief massage to his temples to rub away some aggravation, his chest rising and falling with a thick breath. “The thing is, I’ve been trying to talk with Inuyasha for a while now. That’s it. Just talk. I’ve had some buddies of mine attempt to pass that message onto him, but they always end up bumping heads. The guy’s pretty disagreeable. I don’t want anything to escalate here. Honest. You guys can go on your merry way. Just do me a favor first and go get Inuyasha, would you? Then you can consider yourself problem-free.”

“Sorry, can’t help you.” Kagome shrugged, her expression flat. “We don’t go to school together.”

Inuyasha rolled his amber eyes, tapping his finger along his crossed forearm as he waiting for Miroku to wrap up something student council related. They’d only come back inside so he could grab some paperwork that could be finished at home, but some chick was in the committee room and started droning on and on about something Inuyasha immediately tuned out, because, quite frankly, he hadn’t signed up for that. He could tell his friend was trying to cut the conversation off, but the guy was pretty polite in comparison to the half demon. He was finally able to wrap it up by pointing out the impending bad weather outside, mentioning that they wanted to try to make it home before it rained.

As they left the schoolyard, crossing the street at the corner, a breeze carried over a familiar scent that couldn’t have been too far off, halting Inuyasha in his tracks. Miroku noticed, stopping but not altogether paying attention as he neatly adjusted the items in his bag.

“What’s up? Rain coming, Lassie?” He absentmindedly questioned.

“Which way did Sango and Kagome go?”

“Uh, I think they were heading to Sango’s house. Why?”

“They didn’t head down this street?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I think they sometimes go straight a little and then turn left on some corner or other to cut through. I don’t know the way, though, I’ve yet to go over.”

“Fuck.”

“What’s going on?” Miroku asked, his attention now fully on his friend. Inuyasha’s shoulders were tense, raised slightly, his sights on the distance and his brows pinched tightly together.

“I can smell Renkotsu nearby.”

“Is that one of those guys you used to roll with?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so let’s head home.” Miroku persuaded. “The chances of him knowing that either of the girls are affiliated with you is minimal, and the last thing you need right now is to get caught up in that. Things have been really good for you lately, Inuyasha. They’re probably fine, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Renkotsu knows Kagome.” He said, stabbing his best friend with his blazing stare. “He saw us together before.”

There was a slight shake to Miroku’s nerves, but he remained as rational as possible, trying to ease his friend back to a stable place. “Here, let me call Sango.” He offered, pulling his phone out. “They may already be at her place. If they are, we’re going to mine and laying low.”

He was honestly surprised the hanyou didn’t completely ignore him and storm off to find Kagome. He could visibly see the restraint he was exercising, but his eyes were searching the suburban horizon, and he knew he had to be using his nose to try and hone in on what direction Renkotsu’s scent was coming from. Maybe even searching out Kagome’s while he was at it. The line rang in his ear; one ring turning to two, then three, then the fourth cutting out before it went to Sango’s voicemail. Inconspicuously, he pressed her number to try again. One ring. Two. Three. Voicemail.

Miroku could admit now that he was worried, himself, his stomach beginning to churn within his abdomen. Steadily, he locked his phone, lowering it and leveling a gaze with Inuyasha. “So…”

“This way.” Inuyasha instructed, running back the way they came and leading Miroku in the direction their partners had gone.

Their scents were heavy in the air, four of them, one guy he couldn’t quite determine, and so was the storm that’d been threatening them all day. When it rained, he couldn’t smell shit, the only aroma he could detect being that of the water pouring from the sky. Even right before and after, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of rain, distracting his senses from anything else. Thankfully, they weren’t that far. Thankfully, he heard yelling to carry his feet the rest of the way. Thankfully, the wind had been on his side to tip him off in the first place.

“Don’t lie!” Renkotsu barked.

“I’m not! He and I don’t go to school together!” Kagome argued.

“So, call him up!”

“No!”

“Call him! Now!”

“I’m not doing shit for you!”

“Oh, see, you should! You’re in the heap of it, baby, and I’ve got nothing against showing you who’s boss now.” His grin was threatening, too joyful to be sane.

“I swear to god, if you don’t back up -“ Sango warned, interrupted by Renkotsu’s transferring glare.

“You’ll what, little girl? You actually think you can do any damage here? Since you want to be so involved, we’ll go ahead and keep your mouthy friend with us and you can go get Inuyasha.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She seethed.

“Wrong answer.” Renkotsu stepped toward her menacingly.

“Renkotsu…” Bankotsu cautioned, though his tone spoke a different message. “Before we go down that route, go ahead and hand over your phones. Unlocked.”

“Fat chance!” Sango scorned.

“Give them or we’ll take them. Final warning.” 

“How about we just give you our lunch money and we’ll call it a day, since you sound like a couple of middle school douchebags.”

The two guys expressed utter annoyance, their sighs clenched and dragged, their eyes rolled, a smile on their lips showing conceit.

“Just tell me what you want to say to him, and I’ll make sure to pass the message along.” Kagome offered cheaply, looking daringly into Bankotsu’s eyes.

He stepped closer, meeting her stare, his cool demeanor dropping entirely as he encroached on Kagome, but she didn’t back away. Sango seemed almost prepared at her side, but she couldn’t tell if it was to join the fight if anything happened, pull her away, or shove Bankotsu off. If things actually came down to it, would these guys actually hurt them, or were they all talk? Was this a chance she was willing to take? Didn’t much matter now; she was in knee deep. Kagome had never actually been in a fight, and the guys weren’t necessarily small in comparison to them. The biggest issue was, if anything happened, would she and Sango even be able to fend them off, or would they easily be overpowered?

She heard a simple hum from Renkotsu but didn’t take her eyes off of the man hovering just inches away from her, nor did he remove his from her. She felt hot and angry and nervous, but despite that, she was more than willing to argue herself into an even deeper hole if it meant standing her ground.

“Is he really worth all this?” Bankotsu questioned.

“Yes.”

A powerful hand snatched her left forearm, pulling her back and away, her feet slightly tripping over one another but so solidly held that she stayed standing by the support. It was like she’d blinked and suddenly she was shielded by the broad back of the half demon, the heat of his grip searing through her clothes, keeping her close. Even from behind, she could see, feel, how heavily his lungs pumped air in and out, hear it leaving his nostrils, but he held firmly between she and trouble.

He’d immediately pushed Bankotsu back to create the space, livid that he’d gotten so intimidatingly close to Kagome to begin with. How fucking dare he? How fucking dare he threaten her? Involve her? He was seconds away from fucking this bastard up just for that. Bankotsu’s laugh taunted him further, baiting him, and he’d be damned if he didn’t consider just throwing his fist without bothering to get the small talk out of the way first.

“It’s been a while, buddy! Your hair’s longer! Damn, and you don’t look as scrawny as before, either! I’m impressed a hopeless half breed like you could look remotely like they have their shit together!” Bankotsu boasted.

Kagome huffed, ready to throw a rebuttal at him in Inuyasha’s defense, but Inuyasha was quick to apply pressure to her arm, keeping her silent.

“Congratulations. You’ve finally come out of your cave to find me, yourself.” He remarked. It’d been a year and a half since he’d last seen the leader of this group. No wonder he couldn’t pinpoint the fourth person’s scent; he didn’t remember it at all.  “What’s the outside world feel like, Bankotsu?”

“You got jokes. You know what the real joke is, though?” Bankotsu questioned, chuckling, gliding his tongue over the front of his teeth. “I hear you have your girlfriend fighting your battles now. I figure, since she’s the one that wears the pants in the relationship, and she’s the one telling me to come out and play, I should take it up with her. She’s really mouthy, Inuyasha. You should teach her when to shut up.”

It was difficult - so fucking difficult - not to react to his jab toward her. All he fucking wanted to do was defend, protect, from anything and everything, but he knew Bankotsu was looking for a reaction, and the last thing he was about to do was give him what he wanted.

“Or, I can teach her for you.”

Inuyasha shrugged his brows, laughing lightly. “She can take you.”

“Should we test that theory?”

“No need. Renkotsu can tell you all about it.”

“Keep digging your grave, mutt.” Renkotsu dared.

Inuyasha merely cocked a brow at Bankotsu, stating his point was already proven. “You’re not here for her, though, so drop the act. You’re here for me. What the fuck do you want?”

“You did a stupid thing, Inuyasha.” Bankotsu chided, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back with an alpha complex.

“Yeah, over a year ago.”

“I might have dropped it if you didn’t treat this as a game.”

“Was it not? You weren’t actively seeking me out, you were just trying to get your cock suckers to bring me to you if we ran into each other. Clearly, it wasn’t that serious to you if you weren’t willing to do a little something, yourself. You wanted to attempt to make my life a living hell, so I was sending your goons back with black eyes and bloody lips to give you my own message: You lose. As a bonus, they couldn’t open their mouths wide enough to deep throat your frustrations away.”

Bankotsu heaved a tedious and hot sigh, exerting control and smiling through it. “Well, I’m here now. Taking me seriously yet?”

“Not really.”

“Oh? Even after I had your bitch cornered?”

Inuyasha shook his head.

“I see. Hear that, Kagome? He doesn’t really care about you.”

Inuyasha gave another squeeze to her forearm, making sure she kept her mouth shut. Thankfully, she heeded his warning, feeling her physical response as she leaned closer to his back. She could sense something was coming, and he could sense her apprehension from it. He didn’t bother to soothe her, though. He couldn’t. He had to stay level with the fuckers before him; softness wasn’t an option, and so neither was reassurance.

“Look, I’m done with the casualties.” Bankotsu’s smile fell, dark blue eyes hosting vexation. “You can come with us so we can square this away once and for all, or I’ll actually make your life a living hell until you do. We know where your new school is now, and I’m fully prepared to repay the favor you did for me so long ago. Ginkotsu’s just itching to break some shit, and I’ll personally make sure your name is all over the damage.”

“Wait,” Miroku spoke, his tone the most serious Kagome had ever heard it before. It was thicker, deeper, even a little authoritative. He’d braced himself in front of Sango just as Inuyasha had done with her, only he’d pulled her back further so if anything did happen, they were out of immediate reach. “This doesn’t have to come down to any of that. Maybe we can reach a common ground.”

“I’m not really one for ‘talking out my problems.’” Bankotsu stated simply, using his fingers to create air quotes. “These are the options.”

“It’s fine.” Inuyasha said, loud enough to dissuade Miroku from speaking up again. “I’ll go.”

“Inuyasha -“

“After that, we’re done, right?”

“Yup.” Bankotsu smirked.

“You guys will finally leave me the fuck alone?”

“That’s the deal.”

“And, you wont go near Kagome again?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m fucking serious, Bankotsu.”

“I am, too!” He held up his hands defensively, thoroughly entertained by the abrasive temper of the hanyou. “Do your part, come with us, we’ll settle this, and we’ll never talk to your girlfriend ever again.”

Inuyasha swallowed thickly, nodding once in comprehension. “I’ll be right there.” He waited until the two guys created their distance, standing at the corner with their smug expressions, before he turned back to Kagome, finally releasing her arm. He opened his mouth to speak, his tongue barely clicking, before she beat him to the punch.

“You can’t be serious.” Her tone was direct and thick, brown eyes piercing him.

“Go home.” He ordered, not bothering to try and relieve her obvious concern.

“No. I’m going with you.”

“Fuck no, you’re not!” He all but growled. “Go home! Now!”

“No, I-“

“Kagome, do you actually fucking think if you keep insisting I’m going to cave and let you come!? You know we’re not gonna go sip some tea and make nice, right!? Do you fucking get that!?”

“All the more reason for me to come!” She argued, her voice growing sharper, louder.

“No, shut up! We’re not doing this! I’m not going to fight with you until you understand! You’re going to drop it and go home, and I will call you tonight! Got it!?” The hanyou seethed, ignoring the glower that pressed her reddened face. He turned to Miroku, his own concern at the situation showing through his furrowed brows. “Make sure she gets home. Walk her there. Or to Sango’s. I don’t fucking care, just get her out of here.”

“Inuyasha -“ Miroku tried again as he began to walk toward the two awaiting delinquents.

“Don’t. Just do me this fucking favor and keep her safe.” He said lowly, radiant eyes flickering back and forth from Miroku to Sango so they knew the message was for the both of them. “I’ll be fine. You and I both knew I was going to have to deal with this sooner or later.”

They watched him meet up with Bankotsu and Renkotsu, the half demon trailing just behind them as they led him off and out of sight.

Kagome was furious, her chest heaving, fingers furling into fists so tight that her nails pinched into her flesh. Then, before she could notice the transition, her anger shifted into heavy anxiety, her lungs trying to catch oxygen, as she began to panic at the thought of what may happen to Inuyasha in a matter of moments. She was trying to keep it together, removing her sight off of the empty space she’d just seen Inuyasha in and focusing on Miroku and Sango, waiting for somebody to say something. Sango stood there, baffled, shocked, her mouth hanging agape as she looked back at Kagome, and Miroku looked angry and defeated, but was clearly much better at appearing calm than the rest of them.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sango asked, the question open for anyone to answer, crossing the small distance to Kagome to rub her hand up and down her arm comfortingly.

“Inuyasha went through a dark period.” Miroku explained, following closely behind his girlfriend but leaving some space so Kagome wouldn’t feel crowded. “He got involved with a bad group for a while, and went about it all wrong when he wanted out.”

“What did he do?”

“He tried just leaving, but they wanted to give him shit for it. So, he wrecked their space when they weren’t there as a big fuck you.” Even Kagome shot him a look, expressing that she didn’t know that bit of information. “Come on, trust me, Kagome, he can handle this. To be instated into a group like that, you have to go through a beating. Getting out is all the same. He’s stronger now, more resilient, he’ll be fine.”

“Could you maybe explain that with a little more tact next time.” Sango fired.

“I’m being honest.” He said, his voice unwavering. “Kagome deserves the truth. This isn’t going to be a walk in the park, but this is something he can deal with. Alone. He has to.”

“Wait, so just how bad is this, though?” Kagome asked, a slight shake determinable in her tone. “Is it a huge gang? Or, are we talking three or four people? Are they humans? Demons? Do they have weapons? What’s going to happen?”

“Human, but I don’t know the specifics other than that. I doubt there’s more than ten of them, and the chances of them having lethal weapons are highly unlikely, but don’t quote me.”

“Ten?”

Miroku exhaled shallowly. “I don’t know.”

“They’re only getting further.” Sango mentioned to Kagome, letting go of her arm. Kagome nodded, the two of them, like always, clearly on the same wavelength. “I’ll call my dad.”

“What are you doing?” Miroku asked skeptically, stepping in their path.

“Going after them, obviously.” Sango replied, pulling out her phone to find her dad’s contact.

“No. No! Absolutely not! This isn’t something we should get involved in!”

“Inuyasha’s your friend, right!?” Kagome challenged.

“Yes, and if you two weren’t here, I guarantee I’d be with him right now, but that’s not the case! No wonder he told me to walk you home; you’re reckless!”

“You don’t know the half of it.” She affirmed. “You can back off and stay behind or you can come with and help, but if you try to stop me, I will personally show you how reckless I can be!”

He stood there, shocked, witnessing the burning fire in her irises grow larger, hotter, more threatening. There was no fighting her, that was for sure. He didn’t know what help they’d all be, but she was no sissy, so if she felt this was the right thing to do, he should stick by her. Letting her go off alone didn’t seem like the wisest choice on anyone’s behalf. If anything, he’d escort her to the setting of the incident, but he’d do his part and prevent her from getting in harm’s way.

Miroku gave in, his chest deflating as he cleared the way for Kagome to take the lead, the girl quick to start running in the same direction the other three had headed off in. Sango held her phone to her ear, running at Miroku’s side and keeping up, and when her dad answered, her heaving breath really helped the concerned hitch in her tone carry through. Any good father would react instantly to a panicked call from their child.

The drizzle began, light and cold, but Kagome was unbothered, her mind all over the place as she wondered which way they could have gone. Each alley they passed was looked down, each side street was checked, and she felt like they’d all lost their way until they happened upon two women running with their bags held over their heads, protecting themselves from the sudden strengthening of the rain.

“Excuse me!” Kagome called, stopping them in their path. “Have you seen a guy with dog ears pass by?”

“Hard to miss.” One replied. “Turned right just a little ways down.”

“How far?” Miroku asked, keeping his tone as mellow as possible. 

“Two blocks maybe?”

Without thanks, the three continued on, turning on the designated street and slowing as they saw no one. The street was narrow, almost resembling an alley but still inhabited by smaller homes. In her gut, Kagome felt like they may be close, but she couldn’t pinpoint how much further they’d have to go. She didn’t even know what they’d do to stop the fight, she just knew she had to do something. She couldn’t sit back and pretend everything was fine while Inuyasha was in a dangerous situation. That wasn’t possible.

Sango was trying to hush her argument with her father, insisting she was fine when he demanded she stay back and let him handle things, but they wouldn’t know where to go if she didn’t stay with Kagome. She was positive he’d get his squad to track her cellphone signal. If she led them to the spot, they’d be able to hurry there and hopefully prevent anything from getting serious. On a whim, she stopped talking altogether. He’d get the hint if she stayed on the line and didn’t speak. He’d understand she wasn’t going to give in, and he’d have to do his part without further argument. Aside from that, a rooting sensation told her it was time to quiet down. The street was ominous; maybe because of the current predicament, maybe because of the onslaught of rain and darkened skies. Either way, if they were close, she wasn’t going to tip anyone off that they were following. They were already at a disadvantage. Two small girls, one human boy, and one half demon boy against about maybe ten guys? Yeah, the odds were not in their favor, and she could only hope her dad was quick to arrive before anything escalated to that point.

“This way.” Miroku whispered, carrying ahead of the two of them with a light jog.

“Oh! It’s Inuyasha!” 

The hanyou grieved a sigh, rolling his eyes at the flamboyant guy that welcomed him as they approached the shaded area at the back of the old, battered, abandoned shop. The whole lot was there. All seven of them, six of them looking at him like he’d be fun to rip to pieces and the last looking at him like he was the most thrilling amusement ride. He wasn’t sure which he preferred. 

“Well, you guys haven’t changed.” He muttered.

“Not a really good time to talk shit, gotta tell you.” Suikotsu advised, grinning. His hair was dark brown, spiked and styled, his eyes slanted and daring, though his posture was lax, leaning back against the wall.

“It’s about time you manned up, half breed.” Mukotsu added. He was the shorter, uglier one of the bunch, looking about forty with his disadvantages but truthfully only sat at eighteen. Maybe nineteen - Inuyasha didn’t remember; he just knew they were all around the same age. Mukotsu’s biggest threat was his capability to give women the creeps when he stared as they passed by. Otherwise, he was one of the few Inuyasha hadn’t seen since he left, and if he had, he’d easily pummel to a pulp.

Still, even Inuyasha could admit, when it was seven against one, Mukotsu was someone he’d favor going head-to-head with. Kyokotsu and Ginkotsu were the tanks of the group. They were slow and dimwitted, but they were ungodly strong. Even against demons. Jakotsu was nimble and packed a punch, but the worst thing about him was the fact that he’d laugh when striking someone. It was slightly terrifying. For a person who claimed to always have a thing for Inuyasha, he sure enjoyed squaring up with him, too. Not quite the type of romance Inuyasha was into. Ever since the beginning, he always felt bad for potential boyfriends Jakotsu would have in the future; for obvious reasons. Suikotsu was, as everyone deemed him, the cool one. He wasn’t hot-headed, he wasn’t swayed by insults, he didn’t have a tendency to get too worked up. He was built, he knew how to clap back in more ways than one, but when the going got real, he got vicious. It was like a darker personality was rooted deep beneath the surface and it took ripe instigation to set it free, but god, if you did, good fucking luck. Bankotsu, the leader, liked to sit back and watch his men do his fighting for him. He was prideful. Every time Inuyasha saw him grin, it reeked of vanity and made him want to forcefully remove the smug look from his face. He was insanely intelligent, though. Maybe not as smart as Renkotsu, but he was right behind him. Inuyasha had personally witnessed Bankotsu bring Kyokotsu to his knees once, and he’s the largest and strongest. It’s all about strategy, figuring out weaknesses, utilizing them correctly, and it helped that he wasn’t anyone who could be considered weak, either. As sour as it was to confess, Bankotsu had earned his spot at the top.

“Let’s get this over with.” Inuyasha grumbled, making it sound like this was a waste of his time.

“You shouldn’t be in such a hurry to get your ass kicked.” Kyokotsu chuckled.

“For all the trouble he’s put us through, I say we tie him down first.” Jakotsu suggested, waggling his brows.

Inuyasha cringed, the actual threat behind it not capable of sinking in when Jakotsu was the one talking. But, when Ginkotsu and Renkotsu - who sauntered over to join the lot of them - chimed in to agree, the hanyou felt the weight of it. That’d leave him helpless to their ruthless beating, potentially too damaged to even get himself home on his own. They weren’t killers; he was confident Bankotsu would stop them when enough was enough and felt satisfied with the amount of blood Inuyasha spit to the ground, but seven against one was already a handicap. It would be merciless to tie his hands behind his back and expect him to lie there and take it.

“That doesn’t sound like your style.” Inuyasha countered quickly, aiming to subtly challenge Bankotsu’s pride. “Do you guys see me as that much of a threat that you have to prevent me from fighting back?”

Six of them laughed, impudence laced with incredulity. Good.

“You don’t stand a chance against all of us!” Ginkotsu declared.

“Then why tie me down?”

“Why should you get the chance to defend yourself?” Renkotsu opposed.

“I thought this was all about how you were better than me. How can you prove you’re superior to anyone if you had to tie your opponents hands behind their back to win?” Inuyasha coolly bargained.

“No, he’s right.” Bankotsu agreed, his tone even, a charming grin on his lips. “He wants to fight back, he can fight back. There’s no way he’ll win, and he knows it. No pinning, no holding, and nothing below the belt. Good?”

Inuyasha particularly favored the last motion, knowing it was directed at Ginkotsu. Not that it was necessary, but that fucker always fought dirty.

The rain was really coming down now, droplets bouncing off of the asphalt as they fell from the sky with force, the sound of them clapping down filling the silence among the men. Just about all of them were smiling with odd delight, some moving forward from under the shelter provided by the eaves of the shop, some of them staying put to wait their turns. Inuyasha allowed his book bag to fall from his shoulder, grabbing the strap before it hit the floor and tossing it off to the side, out of the way, and then pulled his already-rolled sleeves further up passed his elbows. 

His breathing was tight, intentional, heating his body from within while he waited, observing the way the vultures began to surround. He couldn’t help but wonder who was going to instigate by throwing the first punch. On top of that, he couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last or how far this would go. When he was first circled by this crowd a little over two years ago, asking for entrance, willing to pay whatever price to fit in somewhere, it was rough. They challenged him one at a time, and each handed his ass to him like it was nothing. He wasn’t well-versed in fighting then. His swings were limp and sloppy, and his kicks were more like flailed legs. Given the experience he’d received since then, he was a lot more structured and advanced now. That was the only reason he’d been able to hold the upper hand against them when they came at him individually during run-ins. Even the few times it was two against one, he still held his own. Seven against one, god he could laugh for the mess he’d gotten himself into. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before he was overwhelmed by the attack, but he’d be damned if he’d give in without one hell of a fight. He’d stand for as long as he could.

Amber eyes landed on Kyokotsu as he happily approached, bracing, but after Inuyasha was punched in the jaw from the right, he realized the troll was the distraction so Bankotsu could unsuspectingly get the first hit and throw him off kilter. The hanyou reacted, briefly rubbing out his face as he turned back to meet Bankotsu’s bitter smile.

“You’ve held yourself pretty well against everyone here before, so let’s see how you fair against me first.”

“My pleasure.” Inuyasha said a little too gladly. If there was anyone he’d love to fuck up, aside from Renkotsu’s bitch ass, it was Bankotsu. It probably would have pleased the bastard to know he’d successfully gotten beneath Inuyasha’s skin, but who the fuck cared at this point? There’s no better face to make his knuckles bleed from hitting so hard.

Bankotsu, with a dangerous glint in his eye, came forward, dodged Inuyasha’s defensive swing just to show off how quick he was and then went at him again, veering enough for Inuyasha to barely graze him, ducking, and then elbowing him in the side of his ribcage. The half demon had tensed in time to avoid having the wind completely knocked out of him, and in a growl of agitation, he reached for the cocky fucker, spun him to fully face him, and decked him square in the nose. It was like the fun was wiped clean off of the other six, and they began closing in for their turns, but Bankotsu held up his hands to stop them, inadvertently giving them all a glimpse at the blood seeping from his nostrils. When they heeded his silent order, Bankotsu chuckled, running the back of his thumb beneath his nose to see the crimson damage for himself.

“Let’s have some fun.” The leader smiled.

Her heart was racing a mile a minute, thundering in her chest, and as the three of them stopped jogging the little ways they’d gone, trying to figure out where the hell to go next, she ran her shaking fingers through her thick, wet hair to keep it from sticking to her face any longer. Sango and Miroku stood ahead of her, and they began walking again, but as her feet moved to follow she caught the very faint sound of grunts and shouts coming from her right. Kagome didn’t even bother alerting her friends, she just took off in that direction, following the pull in her gut, her shoes slapping against the wet pavement as she ran down a dim alley.

Miroku, having heard the slight scuffle of feet from behind, turned around, noticing Kagome was gone. He hissed a curse, grabbing Sango’s shoulder to direct her, her perception of hearing probably thrown from her father talking in her ear. Another curse, this time louder when he grew aggravated at just how similar Kagome seemed to his best friend; a little brash, a little impetuous, a little irrational, and a little stupid.

“Dad, I’ll call you back.” Sango said, hanging up before he had an opportunity to protest, something she felt she should have done from the start; she wanted to alert him and have them lock onto her signal, and she knew that only took a matter of minutes once they got the ball rolling, and she’d only stayed for his sense of comfort from that point on. “Where did she go?” Her voice was higher, on the frantic side as she ran over to the nearest alley, figuring it was the only possible route.

Sango didn’t even bother thinking it through, running down the pathway with Miroku sticking close behind. On the other side of it, there was a broken, brick wall, the lowest parts of the unstable structure sitting at about shoulder height for her with an opening a little further to their right. Immediately peering over the shabby pieces, they noticed the group taking their hits on Inuyasha across the street, and Sango’s jaw dropped at the sight. 

Miroku squeezed from behind her, acting quickly, running towards the opening as fast as he could and snagging Kagome by wrapping an arm around her lower abdomen, picking her up, and spinning her around. As gently as he could in his hasty reaction, Miroku set her down, pushing her back a few feet to be shielded behind taller-standing bricks.

“Are you crazy? Have you assessed the situation at all, Kagome?” He kept his voice low so as to not attract attention. Her cheeks were brightly flushed, her brows furrowed deeply and chest heaving air into her lungs.

“We don’t have time for that!” 

“What’s your plan?” He challenged. “What could you possibly do to break that up? Run into the middle and use your girlish charm to stop everyone mid-swing? No! This shit doesn’t work like that! It’s not even one-on-one, they’re jumping him!” Kagome’s chin quivered at that, but Miroku continued. “Did you ever stop to think of the repercussions of interrupting? You could -“

“Why did you come then, Miroku?”

“To see if there was anything we could do! It doesn’t take a genius to know that there isn’t at a glance.” Kagome opened her mouth to respond, but he silenced her by planting his palm over it. “You could make this so much worse for him. Think about it. If you run out there, he’s going to be so focused on protecting you, he won’t even stand a chance in defending himself. They could grow angrier because of your boldness and take it out on him. Do you want that?”

It took a moment. A tense moment where her cheeks had puffed beneath his hand and her eyes squinted from the anxiety, imagining the scenario, allowing it to sink in, her lids blinking rapidly from the raindrops that curved along her face. Then, she shook her head to answer his question, giving in when she realized he was right. Miroku released her, breathing out, his eyes apologetic at how rough he’d had to get, but she understood. She looked over at Sango who was watching over the wall, her phone to her ear and her voice soft as she spoke.

“Daddy,” She whispered unsteadily when her father answered the phone. “Seven. There’s seven of them.”

Seven.

Against one.

Kagome sucked in a ragged breath, holding it in her chest as she turned to look at the scene, her heart plummeting to the floor as she watched Inuyasha cough out and double over. It’s not like she knew better from worse, but it seemed they were going at him rougher than what was deemed necessary. Another hit from a huge guy and he was on the ground. She winced alongside Miroku, ignoring the gentle hand on her arm that tried to tug her away. The second attempt was stronger, successful, and Sango pulled her into a tight hug. She could even hear her dad talking through the phone, and as soon as they confirmed they had the location, Sango hung up and dropped her cell in the pocket of her bag.

“Dad’s on his way. It’s gonna be fine.” She reassured her, but Kagome pushed out of the hug, giving a cheap smile in appreciation. This wasn’t about her. No matter how helpless she felt, which was exponentially so, she didn’t want this sort of attention. It only amplified how she could do nothing to stop what was happening.

With a shaky sigh, Kagome leaned her back against the wall, attempting to tune out the horrific sounds of Inuyasha’s grunting, the growling, the coughs and wheezes, the noises of the impacts of fists and kicks meeting his body, the curses from the culprits’ mouths, the goading and coaxing to get him back up so they could continue. And then, a pulsation rippled the atmosphere, instantaneously making Kagome feel sick to her stomach.

She could hear him telling them to stop, urgently repeating the word. Demanding they hold back for a moment.

Another ripple, and a lump formed in Kagome’s throat, threatening to make her puke. She looked over at Sango, and it seemed like she noticed it, too. Then, she looked over at Miroku whose eyes were wide as he was the only one who was witnessing the events.

The fighting sounded like it was ceasing, and Inuyasha made a noise like he was in pain. But, his voice was heavy, gruffer than ever before, a deadly growl warning everyone to step back.

Another pulse, and Kagome knew something was horribly wrong. Defying the disgusting sensations pitting in her abdomen, she looked out, noticing the half demon against the floor, bracing himself, breathing thickly.

“I think,” Miroku spoke. “I think his demon blood is taking over.”

“What does that mean?” Kagome quickly questioned, looking back and forth from Inuyasha to Miroku.

“It’s like fight or flight, but flight is no longer an option.”

“He’s one-hundred percent fight.” Sango added, watching beside them.

“And, when you’re one-hundred percent anything, you’re blinded to rationality. I heard this can happen when the body is convinced they’re in mortal danger. Like, a trigger of some sort.” Miroku said. 

They watched an aggressive shudder vividly crawl over Inuyasha’s back, his claws swinging when one of the attacking men tried to get close to him as he remained in his folded position. 

“We need to stop the fight. We need to calm him down.” Kagome launched to run, surprised neither of them tried to stop her. The fight was just about over, anyway. The seven men had backed up, watching what seemed like a transformation come alive, some skeptical, some shocked, and some entertained.

Sango followed Kagome, grabbing two broken bricks from the ground in preparation, and when they cleared the opening of the wall and sprinted across the street, Kagome screaming for them to stop, Sango threw a brick right at the back of the widest guy, stealing his attention. Miroku was right next to her within another passing second, his own bricks in hand.

“I’m a good fucking shot, Shrek! You don’t want me to throw one of these at your face!” Sango yelled as he turned around and scowled. “Back off!”

“I suggest you guys get away from him!” Miroku insisted. “That’s his demon side coming through, and it only gets more dangerous from here on out!”

Seeing an opening, Kagome ran straight through, slowing the moment she was within the barrier. She dropped her bag where she stood, watching his breathing slow, steady, even out. He was unfurled, supported on his hands and knees, but his sight was glued to the asphalt beneath him. His silver hair was hued darker, soaked with rain, the ends of his bangs waving and dripping with water. From the side she approached, she could see his face, his ponytail curving around his opposite shoulder. She could see the blood that dropped from his mouth and the scrapes on his temple. More so, she could see the purple markings that faded in on his cheekbone, progressively darkening as if they’d always belonged.

She knew some demons had marks from birth. It had something to do with their lineage or heritage; she wasn’t very educated on it. Inuyasha had none, though. Was his demon blood so potent when provoked?

Still, she needed him to know she was there. That there was no reason to be worked up anymore. The cops were coming, and he didn’t have to worry.

Kagome knelt beside him, waiting a small moment for him to notice her. Nothing. No reaction. So, ever so gently, she placed her hand on his shoulder, the white cloth of his shirt sopping, translucent, the tint of his skin showing from beneath.

“Hey,” She breathed, allowing the weight of her hand to increasingly settle. “Don’t be mad, okay? I followed, but -“

Her sentence was cut off by her own sharp gasp as Inuyasha clutched the front of her top. His reflexes were insanely fast; she hadn’t even seen him move, nor did she have the time for much else before he yanked her an ounce closer and then forcefully shoved her away. Their position didn’t allot for her to be thrown very far, but he had still proved his unforgiving strength, having created some sort of distance and having caused a minor road rash along the back of her thigh that she’d never expected to receive from something like this.

Kagome was quick to throw her hand up when Miroku and Sango shouted her name, silently trying to tell them she was fine and not to come closer. This wasn’t Inuyasha. Inuyasha would never hurt her. Inuyasha would never hurt anyone he cared about. The offending group had spread out further, but their chuckles were almost as loud as boisterous laughter and she wanted to scream at them to shut up. This was their fault.

She’d been propped on her elbow, in shock at what had just happened, brown eyes glued to the half demon, no, full demon just feet away from her, tediously beginning to pick himself up to a standing. She’d managed to bring herself to a full sitting position, the hypnotizing sight before her making it easy to ignore the slight burning on the back of her leg from skimming the ground. As they appeared, Kagome noted each and every difference about him in this state. His smile was deadly, defiant, crooked, and confident. The purple markings on his cheeks were vibrant now, having made home. His claws were longer, more threatening. His shoulders were broad, full, carrying no trace of burdens or insecurity. And, his eyes. Kagome inhaled tremblingly, her chest hitching and throat tightening. She’d never seen eyes like this before. The sclera was a terrifying shade of red - not even closely resembling bloodshot eyes. They were just red. And, his irises were bright blue. Like, vigorous electricity struck through them.

Inuyasha stood tall, looking down on her, blood lightly trickling from his lips, to his chin, spotting the front of his soaked shirt. He gave her a shrug of his brows as he licked the corner of his mouth, shifting his attention to the men scattered around. His feet glided along the rough floor as he slowly turned about, taking in the features of each individual, his smile showing amusement.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was so low, so husky, it almost rang seductively, but she realized that the sensation she felt crawl up her spine was fear. He created that with two, simple words. “Why do you guys look so afraid? Realized you went a little too far and can’t handle the consequences?”

“Inuyasha?” She softly spoke, pushing her legs beneath her so she could stand. He didn’t regard her in the least.

It was hard not to be overcome by her dominating emotions. She was angry, and scared, and anxious, and overall just didn’t know what to do to help. Where was Inuyasha? How was she supposed to reach him?

The only logical - if logic was applicable here - idea that popped into her head was to get him to focus on her. He was in there. If she could catch his attention, someway, somehow, maybe he’d come back. Unfortunately, her apprehension was prevalent. She felt nauseous, not only from his energy but from the trepidation that maybe she wasn’t powerful or significant enough to succeed. 

Thickly, Kagome swallowed, pretending her saliva was built of anything holding her back, and on her next inhale, she pushed through it all.

“Inuyasha, it’s me.” Carefully, she began to approach, watching every little move he made intently. He chuckled sinisterly, lolling his head back as he swiveled on his heel to face her.

“And, who the fuck are you?” He asked slowly, grinning still, his tone carefree but remaining low. Like, a different person was talking through a vessel.

It stung. Ice crept through the cavity of her chest to hear those words from Inuyasha’s lips.

“Kagome. I’m Kagome.” She leveled. 

She observed the way his features gave way slightly, igniting hope. His brows had pinched together minutely, and the corners of his lips faltered, curving downward for a moment before he fixed them to sit straight.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He stated, turning to face Bankotsu who stared back with distaste. “You, on the other hand… you don’t look so tough now, do you, hot shot?”

“Hey, it’s - it’s over. No one’s fighting anymore.” The rain was stopping, diminishing to a light sprinkle. Kagome walked forward, inching again to close the space between them. “So, let’s - let’s go. Can we go now, please?”

Inuyasha snarled, stabbing her with a dangerous warning of a glare, causing her to involuntarily flinch and still. “Back. Off.”

“You may not remember me right now, and that’s okay, but I know who you are. You mean so much -“

“Get away!”

Another flinch, but Kagome was deliberately relentless.

“Just the fact that you’re not attacking me -“

“Did you want me to!?” Inuyasha’s voice was loud and thunderous, and as she trembled again, he sidestepped away from her. “Because, I will if you don’t want to tread carefully!”

“Inuyasha, it’s done!” Her voice was raspy with her desperation. “Calm down! There’s no reason to keep fighting anymore!”

He gave an exaggerated scoff, dragging out the sound as he rolled his eyes vehemently. “See these guys? That’s seven reasons.”

“Fuck it, I’m tired of the dramatics!” One of them announced, his face marred with evidence of a few solid hits to the same spot. His tone held rage, his body language screamed that he was annoyed, and the way his jaw was set told her his adrenaline was still spiked. He wasn’t one of the obnoxiously large guys; he had an average build with a stare that could kill. “If he still wants to fight, I’m willing to knock him back down!”

“That’s what I fucking thought.” Inuyasha smiled, his entire body turning around to greet the approaching aggressor.

“No!” Before Kagome could even run forward, Miroku was on the man, pushing him back and slugging him in the cheek. He was shouting, telling him to stop being an idiot, taking a couple hits of his own, but Kagome’s eyes shifted back to the demon in the center. He was growling, the sound a threat on its own, dangerous eyes on Miroku, then traveling about the six others.

“Who’s next, then?”

“Stop!” Kagome implored. The plan to ease his way was thrown, and she lunged forward, grabbing his forearm to steal his attention, force it on her, even going so far as to give him a pull back in her direction, his body sturdier than she’d ever remembered it being before.

He reacted swiftly, turning back to her, ripping out of her hold and then grasping her upper arms with bruising force. She gasped shakily, wincing, and his grip on her seemed to decrease a fraction.

“What did I fucking tell you!?” Inuyasha yelled in her face, and she whimpered at his ferocious demeanor, succumbing to the weight of the stress of it all. Her eyes burned with quick-brimming tears and she couldn’t prevent her face from crinkling, or her chin from quivering, or the way her body had tensed substantially.

“Inuyasha, please. I don’t know how to help, but I want to. Are you afraid?” It was difficult to look up at him with how she just wanted to shrink down, his body curled over her, hair no longer dripping as the rain had completely ceased. She did, though. She leaned her head back, crying just a little harder when she noticed he wasn’t breathing. His throat was visibly tight, but his eyes were boring into her, signifying that he was still present. “I am. I’m really scared right now. I just want you back. The real you.”

She heard the grunt release from his lips, his eyes closing, shutting tight as he seemed to struggle with himself a little, but as he grunted again, his hands inadvertently clenched against her arms, a sharp pain stabbing the back of her left arm where his fingers pinched in. Kagome tensed her abdomen, her chest, her throat, trying to bite back the whine that threatened to spill, ducking her head to hide her twisted expression.

Inuyasha brought her closer, her face mere inches from his chest. His breathing was ragged. Rough. His growl was nonexistent. His body radiated heat like a furnace cranked up to its highest setting. 

Kagome watched the way his chest moved, pumping air in and out of his lungs, progressively evening out, and the deeper and more serene his breaths got, the less pressure he applied to her arms, his hands slightly trembling as he let her go little-by-little.

Inuyasha took a single, staggering step back, and Kagome chanced a look at him, his golden eyes staring at his right hand, then fluttering back down to her. His irises were dull, lackluster, his lips slightly parted in confusion.

“Are you… are you okay now?”

The nod he gave was so subtle it was hardly detectable, but she watched his jaw move as he mouthed the softest “yeah,” his lips sealing immediately after.

With a heavy sigh of relief, Kagome pulled herself into his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, fingers gripping the back of his shirt as her inhale brought her chest to tremble against him.

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 10 |

[volantisand]

this just in - MARIANA “ MARI ” REYES has been in wickway for ( MORE THAN, BY NOW ) A MONTH. apparently SHE is a DANCER AT DRIFTWOOD and a CIVILIAN or so HER passport says. so far it’s known that SHE favors JOE AND GO, and resides at WEST PORT. SHE is also said to be LOYAL & CLEVER, but also CALCULATING & GUARDED. at the end of the day, SHE can be described as RED STAINED LIPS, DELICATE HANDS WIPING BLOOD OFF OF DAGGERS AND MISCHIEVOUS SMIRKS FOLLOWING UNDERESTIMATION.

hello again, loves !!! i bring you all the devil reincarnated herself, my baby mariana <33 her pinterest can be found anywhere here !! but it’s kinda messy

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ▸

FULL NAME: MARIANA MERCEDES REYES

NICKNAME(S): MARI

NAME MEANING / PRONUNCIATION: MARIANA MEANING OF THE SEA  OR  BITTER. MERCEDES MEANING MERCIES. REYES MEANING KINGS. ( MA-REE-AH-NAH MER-SEH-DEHS RAY-YES  )

AGE: TWENTY FIVE

DATE OF BIRTH: APRIL 18TH

RANK / TITLE: CIVILIAN, EX-LEADER OF OUTSIDE GANG FROM HER HOMETOWN

OCCUPATION: DANCER AT DRIFTWOOD

HAIR COLOR:  DARK BROWN NEARLY BLACK

EYE COLOR: HAZEL  

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 ▸

POSITIVE: ATTENTIVE, ARTICULATE, CLEVER, CULTURED, DETERMINED, DRIVEN, INSIGHTFUL, LOYAL, PASSIONATE, PERCEPTIVE, PERFECTIONISTIC, PERSONABLE, SCRUPULOUS, WHIMSICAL

NEGATIVE: BLUNT, DISTRUSTING, HOT HEADED, SOMETIMES IMPULSIVE, GUARDED, METICULOUS, SARCASTIC, STOIC, STUBBORN

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 ▸

FATHER: VICTOR REYES ( alive )

MOTHER: LUCIA REYES CASTILLO ( alive )

SIBLINGS: TWO OLDER BROTHERS, AN OLDER SISTER AND A YOUNGER SISTER

CHILDREN: NONE

𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ▸

GANG(S): ANARCHY OF ROSEWICK ( formerly, it remains active ), CURRENTLY NOT AFFILIATED.

MARK: TATTOOED BIRD ON HER RIB CAGE, IT’S ACTUALLY SMALL BUT PIC ANYWHERE HERE and a few smaller little birds, much less detailed, surrounding it

POSITION / RANK: LEADER ( formerly )

WEAPON OF CHOICE: DAGGERS RARELY HAS A GUN.

YEARS AFFILIATED: EIGHT YEARS

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 / 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 ▸

born and raised in a fictional town called rosewick, she’s one of my past muses that has been adapted to come into wickway <33

she was named after her paternal grandmother. and had a very good relationship with both of her parents. growing up, she was always very in touch with her hispanic culture, adoring everything about her roots and then some. she began dancing before she could even walk properly and fell in love with it instantly. 

she’s also not very tall bc frankly, i’m not either so my muses suffer with me, 5′2 at best.. however, she wears heels nearly twenty four seven. unless, y’know at home, at the beach or... idk working out. 

having been born on the 18th of april, she is an aries. 

“ Fun, free-spirited, and fiercely independent, the Aries woman is a breath of fresh air – a brightly burning candle in human form. Fire is her element, igniting all that she touches with the living spark of life. The Aries personality is creative, passionate, energetic and – at times – domineering and short-tempered. A cardinal sign ruled by the planet Mars, the Ram is great at getting things going, initiating endeavors, and infusing her enthusiasm into everything she does ”

true to herself, and her zodiac sign, mariana is a vixen. a total coquette but dangerous. we’ll get there, though !! first... lil fun fact: dance was a major part of her life, she often won competitions with flying colors and excelled in every routine taught to her.

she was seventeen when she met jacob day, captain of the college’s baseball team. their star pitcher. and eventually, her boyfriend. he was older than her, two years. but he was sweet and romantic. at least, at first. jacob day would prove to be the absolute worst thing to ever happen to her. 

a few months later, he’d become a junkie, paying other kids to take the athletic drug tests for him and eventually - he got abusive. she stuck around because he had never gotten physical, only verbal. and most days he was still the same boy she thought she’d fallen in love with. most days.

he was twenty the night he died and she was eighteen the night she killed him. he’d laid a hand on her a few weeks prior to that wretched night. they were at a party, not unlike high schoolers their age who think they’re grown when they’re absolutely not. they’d gone up to the second floor of the lake house so she could find a bathroom. he grew irritated with the young girl in the bathroom and laid hands on her once again. only this time, her temper got the best of her. he was drunk, rendered a bit slower and a lot taller than her. she was quick and agile and while she tells herself that she hadn’t meant for him to die. deep down, she knows that she did. he had laid lifeless in a pool of his own blood and she had stared, her own once pristine hands stained with the crimson of the very same blood. 

she had acted fast after having realized he was very much dead and washed the blood off of her hands. moments later, she was calling her late uncle’s wife, her lawful aunt and the woman who had taken over the gang her uncle once led. she showed up a while later and the two left the lake house, leaving behind a spotless bathroom and absolutely no evidence of mariana’s crimes.   

she took her under her wing, agreed to protect her under the promise of her joining the gang. mariana sat a few hours later, on eliana’s couch with a fresh small tattoo on her ribcage linking her to the gang. 

it didn’t take long for the leader and her to actually get to know each other, having not had any solid relationship when her uncle was alive. one year later, eliana named mariana her second in command. of course, no one understood why on earth, a girl who had just barely turned nineteen could be given such a high power. not even mariana herself understood it.

two years later, she rose to the throne following eliana’s death. by then, she had been completely molded by the late leader and had been taught everything she could possibly need. and then some. mariana was trained in combat, gang ties, suppliers and how to keep them happy as well as game plans to ensure that anarchy remain at the top. 

the gang loved her, she was an intelligent girl that had lost a lot at a young age. it toughened her up. and the suppliers loved her because... she was never late on a payment.   

when mariana became the leader, she shifted blake dietrich’s position to second in command. it only seemed fair, he was her best friend. her partner in crime and the sole person she absolutely trusted with her life as well as secrets. though, they’ve known each other for a lot longer than before she made him her right hand man. 

they kept the gang upright together. matter of fact, anarchy had never been better since they were in charge. she was young and pretty, looked anything but what she really was. it gave anarchy the upper hand because everyone else knew exactly who their leader was but did not believe it. she was hidden in plain sight without having to hide at all. 

underestimation, often drove her to do better. those who dared to be verbal with their doubts, died. she, herself, was lethal and absolutely ruthless. her middle name, mercedes meaning mercies, was the most ironic thing to have ever happened. she finds it funny and throws it in the faces of others. 

“ the only merciful thing about me is in my name. ”

she and blake have spent a few months maybe even a year, on the run, after having been walking on eggshells in rosewick. as powerful as a gang can be... it’s only as powerful as its weakest member. and because of a slip up on their end, blake and mariana were compromised. of course, she would rather die than snitch on her own kind - though had they snitched, they probably wouldn’t have had to leave their home. mariana packed her bags and even blake’s before grabbing him and all but dragging him out of rosewick.

they spent some time traveling around the states, living their best lives before mari mentioned the island and now... here they are. 

though, with power like mariana’s and blake’s, they’ve fallen under the santoro gang’s radar. they’re being watched with interest, the main goal being that they join them.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ▸

honestly, anything !!

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Lucky Cat

BTS

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: Superhero/Civilian, Miraculous Ladybug AU, Flirting, Bad puns, Tae = Chat Noir, It’s in France (duh)

Warning(s)?: Did you think I’d leave out the awful persona of Chloe Bourgeois? She’s here folks. 

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Taehyung grew up homeschooled his whole life until he finally broke away from his father’s iron grip in highschool.  Finally permitted a public education, he’s learned a lot of new things and met new people and of course, experienced the ever-blooming flower of romance.  Though, even as sheltered as he was he knew not to go blabbering off that he happened to be one-half of a pair of superheroes that Paris knew all too well. He knew to keep this secret all through high school as he started his college courses.  Not even able to tell you. 

-XXX- 

Taehyung nearly barrelled out of his house as he looked at the time.  He was so exhausted from his patrol last night that he slept through his first 4 alarms and on alarm 5 he was bounding up and throwing on his clothes.  Thank god he learned to set out outfits the night before so he’s not taking up time being picky on what to wear to school. 

Jeans, gold shirt and black jacket with his clean shoes he swiped his bag from his desk and bolted out of his room.  Planting his rear on the stairway railing, he slid down it with skill as he hopped off at the last moment before he was pushing towards the front door. 

“I’m leaving!” He screamed into the empty, echo of his home.  His home was far too large and grand for his taste.  Wealthy family or not, it was overkill to Taehyung and he could frankly do without it and all the memories that it held that have gone cold. He was due to move out eventually, but nothing seemed to ever work out his way; he had some damn rotten luck. Scowling, he slammed the door shut. 

Just barling making it in time, he slid into his seat with a slump and an overly dramatic exhale.  Hearing the bell not moments after he planted his rear down, he groaned.  He didn’t even have time to catch his breath before the lesson started and the teacher soon walked in.  

Fanning himself with his palm (as if that would relieve him of anything) he pulled his laptop out to take this note just as he did any other day.  He was mindlessly taking notes, probably 10 minutes into the lesson as the teacher had dimmed the lights to allow the projector of whatever slide show he was copying down was when the back door of the classroom slid open.  

His days as Chat had not only helped him in the physical department, he had some hearing and reflex improvements thanks to it.  Looking slightly, he wasn’t the only one to hear the old door creak.  Other students back; some holding back snickers others rolling their eyes as studious students being interrupted.  

Taehyung leaned forward on his desk, cupping his hand over his mouth as he hid a grin.  

“Y/n, everyone can hear you, just sit down,” the teacher announced mid lector.  You sprung your crouched body up. 

“Yes, ma’am,” you squeaked as you ran and slid into your seat next to Taehyung.  Plonking your bag on your lap and pulling out your notebook and pens.  He found it utterly precious you still took handwritten notes and even color-coded them or flagged them with small sticky notes and small doddles.  

As the lesson moved forward, you noticed the rich boy trying not to laugh at you.  You looked over to him as you made eye contact and immediately retracted it.  You’ve never been a people person, even back in high school.  How fortunate for him that he was able to pull strings and get into the same college as you.  His father and he fought over it for weeks, him wanting Taehyung to go to a prestigious school and Taehyung wanting to tone it down and just attend a community campus.  

Obviously, Taehyung won.  

Another thing he wasn’t, was dumb.  He could read people as easy as he could read a book meant for a child.  Facial expression and body language was something he was fluent in.

You were a friend of his and he’s held conversations with you before many times. Though, sometimes you would become a shy bumbling mess out of nowhere.  He often teased you about it, making it that much worse- or at least making your red face redder. 

“Sleep in this morning, did we?” He whispered in a tease at you as you shook your nose at him.  An attempt to deter him and his teasing.  He pushed his hand into his cheek as he watched you scribble down as many words as you could before the slide of the presentation disappeared and a new one appeared. 

When you didn’t quite get everything down, Taehyung was sliding his desk towards you and showing you his laptop with all the information you had missed from the beginning until now.  He easily caught up with the teacher and would copy the notes he needed before he saw that you were taking notes directly off his screen.  He smiled when you thanked him. 

Taehyung was a pretty lenient person who just went with things.  Obviously, he had a bone to pick with his father most of the time, but that was a given as he was pampered into discomfort most of his life. Though, there is one other person who can grind his nerves almost immediately.  

“Why so late, Y/n?” A primadonna and the well sought after beauty-queen of the campus, despite her lack of any human decency.  Kang Huni was probably the lowest tier of people TAehyung wanted to be affiliated with.  However, just like his luck, he’s known her a better part of his life because of her father’s power.  

Mr. Mayor was the biggest suck up to Taehyung’s family since ever. Taehyung was known for not only his fame in wealthy but his skills in fencing, horseback archy and of course his face.  Growing up with a cute face that matured into a handsome one was something he both loved and hated. So, Huni was his only ‘friend’ until he saw how absolutely awful she was. 

Not to mention, her prime target seemed to always be you.  

You looked up from your seat as Huni swiped your notebook in her hand, you reaching for it and standing up trying to get it back.  Huni held it out of your reach before you rounded your desk and started to run in circles to try and get back your notes.  

“Handwritten?  What are you twelve, look at all those colors! Who still color-codes stuff with such cheap- what are those?  Gel pens?  Honestly, you’re still living in the past- but I guess you can’t afford much of anything else!”  Another thing Taheyung positively loved about you, is your outlook.  

You’ve never really been good at money.  Growing up you and your father were almost always damn near broke, but even with so little to your names for so long- you both made it work.  You stood as a family together and made it so far for so long and we're happy as a duo.  Though, two years ago your father got sick and just didn’t get better, leaving you with the little savings he’s kept and the run-down apartment you lived in with him.  

It was a top floor apartment, barely large enough to fit two.  Now that it was just you, he was decked out in canvas’s, and curtains and framed photos of your family you missed so dearly.  Your kitchenette stuck out from your wall as you could view your stove as you sat on your bed that was just a box spring- on its last leg of life- with your mattress and favorite blanket.  A blanket that Taehyung got you for your last birthday that happened to be black cat-themed. 

You had to do your laundry by hand and hang it out to dry or take it to the laundromat, but you didn’t mind.  Your home was small, but it worked and kept your sheltered, so you didn’t complain.  Plus, from your part-time job at a barkery, you were able to afford the penny-cheap rent!  

How did he know all this?  Well, it certainly wasn't because when he’s not on patrol with his partner, he was sitting at your rooftop home with you as Chat Noir.  No- not at all. In fact, he got to know you so much better as Chat than as Taehyung.  Taehyung wouldn’t be able to talk about all the stuff you and Chat did.  

Taehyung sat watching no longer than he could handle before he got up himself.  You were still fighting to get your book back, halfway worried the still wet gel would smear when Taehyung took the book from Huni’s hands. 

“Is it really necessary to pick on her?  Leave her alone, Huni.”  Huni just crossed her arms, pouting in a dramatic way as if she was the victim.  Taehyung rolled his eyes as he walked to your side, safely placing your notebook into your arms.  You sighed as you had them back, unsmeared. “Do you have your club activities now?” You looked up at him. 

“I- uh, no.  I have to skip today because the bakery is short-staffed so I’m putting in a few more hours.”  Taehyung’s brow creased.  You already busted your ass working, but he had to act obviously.  It wasn’t Taehyung that knew that, it was Chat.  

“Alright, then I’ll walk you,” he offered with a smile. You were about to decline when he moved to cup around your ear and whisper to you.  “I’ll keep Huni off  your back on the way too, to avoid any nasty catfights.” He inwardly laughed at his own stupid pun. At that and the glare Huni was currently giving you, you accepted the walk in a heartbeat. 

That night, you were opening up the roof door to your little apartment when you saw outside a black-clad boy sitting gracefully on your balcony.  Flicking on your light in your one-room home, the boy turned and smiled at you inside. Waving through the window, you made your way out to him. 

“Chat, what have I told you about waiting for me so late?” 

Leather-covered, masked with his fake tail and ears, he sat perched on the metal railing as if he wasn’t afraid of falling off at all.  Granted with his stick that extended and propelled him around in graceful leaps and bounds, he wouldn’t actually be in danger. 

“I had to make sure you came back in one piece, Angel!”  He cheered as he called you by the specific name he picked out just for you.  His little Angel of luck he was graced with the pleasure of falling for.  “Besides,” he pointed to the sky, “the stars were clear and it is the purr-fect night to stargaze with someone to dazzling.” 

“I see you’re still a fan of complimenting yourself,” you chuckled.  

Chat hopped off the railing and strode towards you, standing tall as he hands were around his back.  “I was talking about you, Angel.  A dazzling, muffin-smelling girl.” Seeing you flush at his sincerity, he smiled bitterly.  It was times like these that he wished so much he could tell you who he was.  

Though, after a long talk about it with his partner, he was told that he couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you and it killed him.  Keeping something so big from you, lying to you as he kept on selfishly loving you as both Chat Noir and Kim Taehyung. 

You noticed that smile of his that bit back the sorrow of his superhero and civilian secrecy. You just linked your arm around his and stepped closer.  

“If we’re going to stargaze, I’d rather not from my apartment.  How about someone clearer, what do you say?” 

Chat just laughed as he moved to hook his arm around your waist, taking his stick from behind his back and extending it.  “I’d say you’re feline pretty bold tonight and that you’d better hold on.”  Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tucked your face into his shoulder as he was soon propelling off, taking you god knows where.  

He wanted to just keep going until Paris was gone.  He wanted to get out of this city with you and never stop just so you could keep holding onto him.  Eventually, he stopped and set you back on your feet.  You didn’t realize your eyes were squeezed shut until he was telling you to pen them.  

You were in awe as you stood up high on the Eifel Tower where the lights complimented the stars.  You rose a brow toward him with a smile. 

“Eifel Tower, huh?  Is it me, or is this a date?” You teased.  Chat only winked back towards you. 

“What a purr-fect fur-st date then.”  You rolled your eyes as his insistent cat puns as he sat you both down when the wind began to blow in gentle gusts.  He was far too afraid of letting you even sway so high up. He kept your hand in his and wanted to do nothing more than detransform so he could feel how warm you are.  Instead, he was stuck with his leather-clad hands stopping that from happening.  

The two of you spent so long just talking. You told him about your newest painting in-progress that happened to be inspired by himself; and watched as he grew dejected at your refusal to show him what you had completed so far. 

Chat and Taehyung once again learning more and more about you and before he knew it was he watching as you began to doze off and on.  He smiled as he stood up, taking you with him and tucking you to his chest.  Wrapping your arms around his neck as you stood in a tired daze, he picked you up and began his trip back to your home. 

You were completely out of it when he landed on your rooftop and walked into your home, before tucking you into bed.  He’s done this quite a few times now and was always astonished on how you managed to fall asleep and stay asleep as he carried you home- wind and all. 

Taking off your shoes, he made sure your hair that was up from your bakery shift was let out before wrapping you up in your black cat blanket.  As you slept, he took the moment to detransform, sitting in your home as Kim Taehyung. 

His small, palm-sized Kwami floating around at his side.  

“It’s bad news to sit around at a girls house this late. She might think you’re a pervert if she sees you.” The Kwami chided with a shrill sense of humor. Taehyung just rolled his eyes, shushing him as he held your hand.  They were as soft as they looked as he kissed your knuckles.  

“Goodnight, Angel.  I’ll come to see you again tomorrow, okay?” He whispered as he placed a kiss to your forehead next.  He stuck around a bit longer before he was standing up.  He saw the covered canvas tucked in a small little art corner and smiled, not daring to peek like he actually wanted to.  Leaving your side and transforming again outside, he was soon quickly bounding back to his wealthy home. 

Missing how you woke up in time to see him change from Taehyung to Chat Noir and leap away.  You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when you showed him your painting.  You giggled as you got out of bed to look at it so far, sitting in satisfaction.  

A painting of Chat Noir that faded into that of Kim Taehyung.  Maybe it was the puns he pulled off in his civilian form, or maybe it was the way he treated you so tenderly.  Or perhaps, it was the smile that no one could ever replace that lead you to figure out who Chat Noir actually was.  

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s simply because Kim Taehyung can’t keep a secret to save his life and talking to a floating black cat in the piano room isn’t the best place for a superhero pep talk.  

And you love him like that; a big-mouthed superhero with more good luck on his side than he thought. 

[spectraspecs-writes]

Dantooine - Chapter 47 (Bastila)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 46. Chapter 48.

I know I’d be welcome, and so would everyone else, if I wanted to get dinner at the Enclave, but frankly I’m so tired of being in there and eating their food. I honestly miss synthesized food. Even the crap that comes out of the synthesizer on the Hawk. I can’t believe Davik never cleaned it or checked it out.

Evidently Bastila feels the same way, because will Mission, Zaalbar, and Canderous went out looking for some real food, she elected to stay in the Hawk and hang out with me. She comes into the main hold with a bowl of greens covered in a pale yellow honey sauce. Hardly good looking next to the slab of steak I wanted. (I wonder if vegetarianism is a Jedi thing, a Bastila thing, or if she just wanted a salad, because there weren’t a lot of meat options at the Enclave. Just iriaz, and I’m sick of iriaz, too. They only boil it. Can’t you smoke it sometime, or barbecue? Must it be boiled?) She sits next to me and takes a bite. Then her face contorts into an obviously disgusted expression. “I shall have to speak to Teethree about maintaining the synthesizer,” she says.

“No need,” I say, “I plan on looking at it.”

“It’s a simple repair task. I see no reason you have to look into it.”

“I like fixing things.” Plus the implication that maintenance tasks should be left to droids is a bit… “racist” isn’t the right word, but it’s something like that. “Hey, can I talk to you about something? The dream we had?”

She sets her fork down. “It was less of a dream and more of a vision... a vision the two of us shared,” she says, “But I am certainly willing to answer any questions the Jedi Council did not.”

“They didn’t do much answering at all, frankly,” I say, pushing food around on my plate, “I still don’t understand why we shared this ‘vision’ in the first place.”

“Are you wondering why we shared the vision? Or why we even received it in the first place?” she asks rhetorically, then she shrugs. “To the first I can only repeat the answer that the Council gave us. Our fates are linked, and for two as strong as we are in the Force that amounts to a near-physical bond. As to the second, I don't truly have an answer for you.” She shrugs again, gesturing with her work and forcing some more of the gross salad down her throat. “The Force works as it will, and perhaps we should be grateful for what we have been given.”

“But how did our fates become linked?” I ask, “We’ve only known each other for, like, a month, and we had the vision maybe three days after we met.”

“I... I don't know,” she says, sounding a bit perplexed herself, “Believe me, I certainly don't find the prospect of being joined to you enjoyable in any fashion.”

“And here I thought I was growing on you,” I say, trying not to feel insulted, “It’s my dreams, isn’t it? They throw you off.”

“That’s enough of that,” she says, stopping me, before finishing her thoughts, “Please forgive me. I did not mean to imply that you were repulsive in any sense of the word. That we shared something so personal is just not something I'm used to.”

“Oh, believe me, it’s definitely a bit uncomfortable. It’s like having an audience all the time for my thoughts. It just seems a little convenient, is all.”

“The Force often seems to cause events that bend the laws of probability, especially with those that are strongly affiliated with it,” she says, “In this respect, you and I will simply have to become accustomed to such 'convenience'. We are the tools of the Force and we will do as it wills.”

“You make it sound like it’s alive,” I say, taking a bite of my own food.

“There is no evidence one way or the other,” she says, “What you believe the Force to be ultimately will decide who you are.”

Fair enough. “Let me ask you something else, why do you think we dreamed about Revan and Malak? Seems a bit convenient to me to dream about our enemies.”

“And what else should we dream about except that which is most important to our fate?”

“I don’t know, sword battles in space and dancing with Wookiees,” I say, shrugging, “I’d like some refuge in sleep.”

“I can understand that, I suppose,” she says, “Perhaps we dreamed of them because we desired to. Perhaps because they came to this planet and were strong enough in the Force to leave a... a trace.”

“I guarantee you, I did not want to dream about them.” That dream I had about Malak and Carth alone was terrifying, and I never want to feel that or see that again.

“That would not be my first choice, either,” she says, “but choice appears to be irrelevant in this matter. We dreamed about Revan and Malak either because we were meant to or because we needed to. There is no other way to look at it.”

“What do you think they were doing, anyway? It didn’t look quite like exploring.”

“I have no idea, but I suspect you’re right. It was obviously important.”

“Obviously,” I add, “Well, that’s all I wanted to know. Just promise me you’ll stay out of my dreams if it’s not about Revan and Malak.”

“Oh really?” she says incredulously, “And are you so certain that it is not you in my dreams?”

“Pretty certain. It sure feels like my head.”

“I see,” she says in that tone that says, “I don’t buy it.” “That is most likely vanity speaking, for I am not certain, myself.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal - I’ll stay out of your dreams and you stay out of mine.”

“I’ll do my best,” she says, acknowledging the joke for once, “Regardless, our fates are linked. The vision was no doubt meant for us both.”

“Well,” I say, “that’s really all I wanted to know.” And she goes back to her salad. But there’s something about her face. “Is something bothering you? Besides the salad, I mean.”

She smiles at the joke. “No, not bothering me. Not exactly. I've been thinking about what the Jedi Council said about the two of us, just as you have,” she says, “There is a bond between us, I do not dispute that. I can feel it, as I'm sure you can. The nature of that bond and its effect on our mission remain in question.”

“Doesn’t it mean my presence is necessary?”

“You say that as though if it didn’t I would leave you behind at the first possible moment. That is simply not true.”

“See, I knew I was growing on you.”

“Honestly, Rena,” she says, shaking her head, “In any event, I saw your service records when you were transferred aboard the Endar Spire, but nothing beyond that. I know very little about you. I'd like to ask you some questions, given our relationship.”

“Sounds fair enough, I just asked you a bunch of questions,” I say with a shrug, “Fire away.”

“Excellent. Don’t worry, these are simple questions. Nothing too intrusive.”

“Do I look worried?”

“What sort of background do you have?”

“I’m a scout. I’ve mentioned that. The Republic recruited me for my skills.”

“Good. On which planet were you born?”

“Deralia. It’s a remote system. Nice cave systems. Why?”

“Excellent. Your current age is?”

“Somewhere between 200 and 3000, I lost count.”

“Rena…”

“Come on, Bastila, all of this was in my service records. Do you have any actual questions?”

“Yes, well…” she starts to say, “The truth is I was studying how you responded to my questions. Your reactions help me judge you; this was a test for me to learn more about your character.”

“Oh, really?” Why couldn’t she just ask me actual questions? “Learn anything interesting?”

“You were honest, which is good,” she says, “But I don’t understand why you insist on joking about everything.”

“It’s quite simple - I just like to laugh.”

She sighs at me. “This bond we share will shape both our destinies, it is not to be taken lightly.”

“Well, hey, you did learn something about my character.”

“I suppose,” she says, sighing again, “But I imagine you've had enough questions for a while. So many things have happened to you since Taris. It's probably a lot for you to absorb.” She stands up, apparently having eaten all of the salad that she wanted. “I’m going to go meditate. We can speak again later, after you’ve had time to think about all of this.”

“Yeah, I think I want to take a look at the synthesizer anyway,” I say, standing up myself, “See you in the morning.” Time to find my spanner. She's right, I do need to think about things. There’s something weird happening, under the surface. And I doubt I have all the pieces yet to figure it out, but that’s not going to stop me from piecing together what I do have.

[qqueenofhades]

I have a personal question. So am an almost 30 year old history degree haver who has recently been realizing that I might be more bi than previously anticipated. I have described myself as such to my roommate and some close friends, but I am not really sure that I count. Or that I should. I know you were around my age when you realized and had also not had a girlfriend yet. So I guess my question is “how does one verify if they really are bi?” And not just easily distracted by the (part 1)

Part 2 and not just distract by the frankly gorgeous women in Hollywood. Like I don’t have any women in my real life I want to date, but I also currently have no men I want to date, and I know I like them. But Brie Larson could top me any day she wanted. So, does that count?

Oh, honey. (I hope it’s not weird if I call you that, since we’re about the same age, but just think about it as me in my salty-but-kindly-spinster-internet-aunt capacity.)

The good news is: there is absolutely no test or external confirmation or set of credentials that you have to pass or that you have to adhere to in order to legitimately identify as bisexual (or frankly, whatever the hell you want). If you experience attraction to both men and women: congrats, you are fully free to identify as bisexual. It doesn’t mean a 50-50 split; it can be 80/20 or 90/10 or whatever else. It can shift back and forth. There are a lot of studies being done these days about how human sexuality is a shifting spectrum and how increasingly large percentages of under-40 people identify themselves as not attracted exclusively to one gender (aka the first generation to grow up with awareness of alternatives to Compulsory Heterosexuality, and thus perhaps more confident in feeling things that otherwise had to be ignored). But there is, unfortunately, a lot of gatekeeping in the LGBT community about who can “rightfully” identify as part of it, and still a frankly depressing amount of biphobia. So if you have encountered those kinds of messages, or encounter them in the future, please do know that they are total crap and the only person who has any right to make any call on your personal identity is you.

You can fully identify as bisexual without having had experiences with the same gender. The legitimacy of your identity is not tied to performativity. If you have sexual feelings and fantasies about Brie Larson (and frankly, I imagine many of us have?) and other beautiful women, that means you experience attraction to your own gender as well as the opposite, and that makes you bisexual. (If you want that label, of course.) Frankly, I went through something similar with Gal Gadot, and when I was able to think back over my years of thoughts about how attractive other women were, I saw that I had always dismissed it as “all straight women have these thoughts” or “it just means I want to look that way myself.” It wasn’t even that I was exposed to a ton of overt homophobia or anything like that which would complicate the process, it’s just that kids in the 21st century West, with relatively few exceptions, grow up assuming that everyone is straight and that they are too. I did experience some crushes on men, so there wasn’t any reason to investigate, and I don’t even think it really crossed my mind. I was a sheltered kid growing up in an intermittently religious family (although that went away a long time ago) and it just wasn’t talked about. I discovered the concept of LGBT people through reading slash fanfiction as a young teenager. I’ve mentioned before how fanfiction taught me about sex, because aside from like….. two mortifyingly embarrassing conversations with my parents, it was never discussed at all.

Anyway, all that stuff went on in the background throughout my childhood, and I grew up, and a few years ago I was filling in one of those forms that want to know your sexual identity, and was like���.. I can’t put heterosexual because it’s not true. It was such a relief to figure out and things made sense and I have really never done anything heterosexual in my life and yet still thought I was. It’s just that it’s posited as the overwhelming default and it takes a lot of self-reflection and bravery to overcome that. Some kids know instantly at the age of 3 or 4, some in their early teens, some as adults, some even as senior citizens. There is not a “right” time to know for yourself, and there is not then a corresponding obligation to come out of the closet, unless you want to. I told my sister, who was also my childhood best friend, in summer 2017, and I told my parents that Christmas, and they were all very supportive and it was no problem at all. But at the same time, I told them that I didn’t want it passed around the extended family, because…. well, all my cousins are Married With Children ™ and that is just not a life I see for myself. Not that I think they’d really have an issue with it (and I’m lucky in that regard) but it’s… not their business.

I have started attending Pride the last couple years and of course I work on queer history as an academic, and I feel a strong affiliation with my identity, because it explains a lot of things about how the way I have always been and it feels right, whether or not I end up with a partner (and honestly, if I married anyone, it would almost certainly be a woman). I am probably on the ace spectrum as well because I generally prefer my own company and have never properly dated anyone. Maybe this happens, maybe it doesn’t, but it doesn’t make me any different. Sometimes I wonder if I should identify as a lesbian because I have long periods of very little or no attraction to men, but then I remember that I do find some of them attractive, and it’s like “hmm, still bi.”

Anyway. The point is: You can and should choose what feels right for you. If you want to say you’re bi, or feel that you are, then you are! Nobody gets to police or gatekeep that from you. If you don’t want to say you are, you don’t have to. But from the tone of your question, it sounds to me like you want to know if you’re doing it right or if you’re justified in calling yourself bi because you think that you would like to and to explore that, and in that case: please, please believe me that nobody has any right to make that decision but you. It was a huge relief for me and it hopefully would be for you as well. If you have a supportive group of friends/family, that is also good, but at least at your age, I imagine you aren’t living with your parents/aren’t dependent on their approval. So again, identify as who you are and what feels right, and see what happens.

I am honored that you came to me with this question, and it’s a good time for it, since Pride month has just started (at least in the US). Just know that I support you and I am here if you want to ask more things. I will see what I can do.

[writehardwhumpharder]

Carson Story - Chapter One

Hey guys I mentioned I was working on turning my drabbles into a real story and it’s still a work in progress but here is a rough draft of chapter one if anyone is interested. It’s not whumpy yet, sorry.

"This is ridiculous," Carson sighed, "it's never going to work."

"Not with that attitude it won't, now focus," Daniel scolded.

They sat opposite each other on Carson's kitchen floor. Between them a circle was drawn in chalk, about two feet in diameter. Within its borders there was a pentagram, some runes, and whatever other magical juju they could come up with. Candles flickered from every available surface, casting odd shadows around the small apartment. Carson closed his eyes and attempted to clear his mind as he set down an old watch and a handwritten letter he'd received from his dad about twenty years ago. The objects were meant to establish a connection between him and the circle. Carson pricked his finger and let a few drops of blood drip inside, extending the connection to himself. Danny was mostly there for moral support since he couldn't do magic himself.

They joined hands and Danny smiled, a little proud that he'd actually convinced Carson to go along with this, "let the seance begin!" he declared.

"Richard Hall, if you are here with us tonight, make yourself known!" Carson said with as much seriousness as he could muster at that moment. To be fair, if his dad's spirit did exist somewhere, it would be here in his old apartment. Carson "inherited" it from him a few years ago. He didn't know the man but he must not have had anyone very important in his life after he left because he signed over everything in his will to his son by default. That's right, all $8,000. Oh, and the old answering machine that was left on the table probably by mistake.

"Richard Hall, if you are here with us tonight, make yourself known!" He repeated, the idea was to say it three times to properly summon a spirit. Daniel snickered from across the circle and Carson shushed him, cracking open one eye to glare at him. Danny bowed his head and cleared his throat, signaling that Carson could continue with the seance.

Okay, three times the charm, "Richard Hall if you-" a dull buzzing noise cut him off and both Carson and Danny jumped in surprise. They looked around the room to see if a man had suddenly appeared from the other side. Danny looked a little disappointed to find that the room was still empty.

Digging into his pocket Carson cast his friend a guilty look and as he pulled his phone out, the source of the buzzing got louder as he did. Danny crossed his arms.

"What? I set it in on silent..." He stood up, stretching his legs that had gotten sore from sitting Indian style for the past twenty minutes. He walked a few feet away and into his living room before answering, “Hello."

Papers shuffled around and random voices flooded in through the speaker, "Uh, hi, I'm detective Miller," a girl answered, sounding a little flustered, "is this Carson Hall?"

"Yeah, what do you want?" He asked, sounding a little impatient. He had a seance to finish and calls that start out asking his name are his least favorite kind of call, seeing as he had no interest talking to someone he didn’t already know.

"Well, I'm calling to see if you'd be willing to consult on a case..." she explained. Carson racked his brain trying to figure out what she could possibly need his help for.

"What does this have to do with me?" He asked.

"You see, it… it involves magic. We think someone is using it to kill people without leaving any clear evidence, there have been two deaths so far” she paused, hoping that would get his attention, usually she wouldn’t just give out details of a case right away but she needed his help, ”we lost our CI a few months ago that used to help with this sort of thing. You're the only confirmed magic user in our database that doesn't have a criminal record or gang affiliation-"

Carson frowned, "back up a second, I'm in your database? As a magic user? Who did you say you were again?" In his line of work it was best to operate with a healthy level of skepticism. When word does occasionally get out that he's a soul magician, having the incredibly rare set of skills that can be used to heal people of almost any ailment, including death believe it or not, he gets assaulted by phone calls from people all over the country asking him to fix someone. If Carson had the energy inside himself to do it, he probably would try to help every person that called him. Unfortunately, unlike other magic users, he can only use life energy to do magic, usually his own. There's also the issue of disrupting the natural order of things on a catastrophic level. Riley continued explaining her case and every step that had led her to Carson, she was clearly new at her job. At some point he must have started to tune her out, oops.

"So will you help me?" She asked. Carson searched his memory for whatever she had just said but all his brain supplied him with was "uhhh".

"Um, yeah I guess we can talk about it.” He said, not really sure what he was agreeing to.

“Can you meet me at my office tomorrow at ten?”

“Sure but if it’s going to be that early I’d rather meet somewhere that has caffeine,” Carson said, “I know a good coffee shop.”

Carson gave her the address and agreed to meet her tomorrow. He crossed his fingers that at the very least he’d get a free latte out of it. Crossing the room, Carson walked back to their little circle. Danny sat next to it with an expectant look on his face. Despite the eerie candle lighting and ritual set up, he couldn’t really get into the right headspace for a seance anymore. Not that it had any chance of working in the first place.

“Sorry, if you really want to summon my dead dad we’re going to have to do it another night.” He bent down to smear the edge of the circle and was surprised to feel just the faintest buzz of energy around it. He was sure if he really focused on it and opened his eyes to the energy, he’d see a weak blue glow around the edges.

"So what was that about?" Daniel asked.

"Honestly, I don't know. Some girl called about a case, she's with the police." Carson said as he started blowing out candles and cleaning up the circle. "I'm meeting her for coffee tomorrow."

"Ooh, Carson's got a date." Danny teased. Carson took a moment to be grateful that he'd met Danny in college and not middle school.

"I do not. She just wants some advice..." his face grew serious, "apparently there have been a few murders."

It was a little chilling, knowing there was a dangerous magician messing around in his city. Magic users had a bad enough reputation already. Daniel’s eyes widened with concern as a thought struck him.

"Wait, are magicians killing people? Or are people killing magicians..." he asked, suddenly worried for his friend, knowing he wasn't nearly as careful or as secretive as other magic users are. Magic in itself wasn't illegal, but it wasn't widely accepted either. Carson wished they could just go back to when people simply didn’t believe in it, or chose not to notice. Now that people do know, they fear it, and because they fear it, they hate it. It was the same old story of some group of people being different from the common masses and being alienated because no one took the time to try to understand them. Carson knew that if anyone besides Daniel knew about him it would cause a whole world of trouble for him, maybe make it hard to get a job or keep his apartment. Luckily he did have some level of protection, he’s done some big favors for a few very important people in New York. The kind of people you don’t argue with.

So it wasn’t exactly good news to hear that his name was in some police database. If they had that kind of information, anyone might be able to find it. He shivered.

***

Carson walked into the cafe at nearly 10am exactly. Despite having never met this detective Miller it wasn't hard to pick her out of the crowd. Where everyone else was calmly enjoying their morning coffee she was sitting behind a pile of papers, circling things with what looked to be five different colored pens. She looked up when he walked in and raised a tentative hand up to wave. Carson gave her a nod and headed towards the counter to order. She hurried around the table towards him.

"Thanks for coming," she said, sliding her card over to the barista discreetly, "I didn't think you would."

Carson wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, frankly he didn't know what he was doing here either but he did get that free latte he was hoping for. So far, so good.

"You can call me Riley," she said, extending her hand to shake his. He shook it, not bothering to introduce himself since she already knew who he was. “Did you want to get some food too?” She asked politely.

Carson’s face hardened, “I hate breakfast.” He said it with complete seriousness, like the meal itself  had personally offended him. Riley made a mental note to not mention it again, then another noting how odd this Carson guy seemed.

“Um okay then.” she replied timidly. Riley was young, she had that excited energy Carson lost sometime in college after too many late nights. Her medium brown hair was tied back in a ponytail that was casual yet decidedly professional along with the rest of her outfit. Everything about her was plain and average, everything except her eyes. Her green eyes were as striking as her hair was dull, or her skin was fair.

When Carson's coffee was ready they headed over to her makeshift desk and he had to move a few things out of the way to make room for his drink. "So you said something about a case?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm working under the lead detective on a couple of strange murders that we think were done with magic, but we need more information from an expert." She said.

Carson laughed, "and I'm supposed to be the expert? There was really no one else you could call?" God if he was the special help then this case would never be solved.

"Well magic users tend not to get involved with the police, or anyone for that matter. But you must know that. Anyways, it's not all that complicated, you've had some training right?" Her eyes sparkled with hope and suddenly Carson felt a little guilty for not taking this seriously.

“No, I'm still waiting on my letter from Hogwarts." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "I've yet to find someone willing or able to train me. I'm a soul magician and those are pretty rare. It's kinda like I speak a different language than regular magicians, our magic isn't quite compatible."

"Magician? Like stage magic? Rabbits and hats and stuff?" She said, sounding a little skeptical.

"Magician, like, you know, physician, or electrician. It's what I do. But you can call it whatever you want, wizard, sorcerer, warlock, whatever." Carson took a large sip of his latte, he needed caffeine and he needed it now.

"But you do real magic right?" Riley asked, she didn't intend to be insulting, but Carson could see in her face that she was wondering if she made a horrible mistake in calling him. He sighed and looked around for an idea, some small object he could move to give her a demonstration. Settling his eyes on the pen in her hand Carson focused his thoughts on moving it towards himself. It's kind of a tedious process having to take the energy from his own life force and convert that into a more versatile form of magical energy but it only takes a few seconds, less time if he's desperate. The pen tore from her fingers as if on it's own accord and came to settle in his Carson's hand.

"Was that real enough?" He asked, giving her a challenging look. She swallowed nervously and jerked her head in a nod. Once he'd apparently passed her test, Riley found a few pictures and slid them over to him. Each one showed a ritual circle, not unlike the one he was using last night to try to summon his dad's spirit.

"Well that's magic alright. Pretty serious stuff by the looks of it. If these circles were used as a direct link to kill someone that would require a lot of power." Carson said. An uneasy feeling washed over him as it finally sunk in that a dangerous magician was operating right in this area, killing people in a way that wouldn't leave the police enough evidence to use in court. It was clever, but not that clever. The police have dealt with criminals like that before and the ritual circles in the pictures in front of him were pretty damning evidence if you knew what you were looking at. This magician is making the dangerous assumption that the police would have no idea how magic worked, which was only partially true. Carson made the decision right in that moment to help them if only because it pissed him off that someone thought they could get away with this.

"How does it work?" She asked. Finally, a question he could answer. Circles were magic 101. You didn't need to be very skilled to use symbols and artifacts, that's why they were Carson's go to method of doing any kind of magic.

"Well the circle let's you focus magic in one spot, like putting water in a glass instead of letting it flow. You can draw different shapes and symbols inside depending on what you're using it for. I've never seen this particular symbol before but then again I've never tried to use magic to kill anyone. I also see what looks like blood, candle wax, maybe salt, and a few dark stones I don't recognize. The other objects inside must be specific to the victims."

Carson looked up to see that Riley was scribbling away at a piece of paper. She was actually taking notes, precious. He didn't comment on it though, seeing as he's not a total dick. Instead he marked a few things on the pictures and handed them back to her.

"Thanks that's a good place to start. We already have one suspect, there is no direct link between him and the murders but he's the only powerful magician on the police's radar right now. We think he has the support of a gang..." Riley trailed off as she realized a lot of the assumptions they'd made so far were based on how magicians acted as criminals. In today's society, that's how most magic users were seen. Riley thought Carson seemed different though, completely different. When she went through the database of confirmed magic users most names were attached to a police report, Carson's was attached to medical files from the local hospital. They described a man coming in, speaking with the patient, then finding that that patient had been completely cured. Sometimes Carson picked people randomly, whenever he felt the need to clear his conscience with a good deed. Other times it was for money, after all, he had to pay his rent somehow, and he usually charged significantly less than the hospital did in the long run. A few files reported that same man being admitted for severe exhaustion. It didn’t take them long to put two and two together and figure out who and what he was. What Carson didn’t know was that they would release those files to the government.

Riley cleared her through, “The suspect’s name is Martin Foster, we were hoping you can ask around, see if anyone knows anything about him.”

She meant she wanted him to go talk to all his magician friends. Carson didn’t have the heart to tell her that he didn’t know a single other other magic user. If there was some special club for magicians, he hadn’t been invited. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t dig up something useful though, so all he said was, “sure, I’ll look into it.”

Riley gave him that hopeful smile, “Great, well I’ll give you my information,” her eyes darted around the table as if there weren’t plenty of pens and pieces of scrap paper at her disposal. She picked up a blue one and tore a page of a small notebook, scribbling her cell number, office number, and office address for him, “Oh and I should give you my partner’s info too. He’s in charge of the investigation.” Adding one final number onto the slip of paper she handed it to Carson.

He took it, brain already swirling with ideas, places to check, shady corners to watch. He had a few new tools that needed to be field tested. Grabbing his coffee, Carson got up and left her to gather her mountain of paperwork. It would have been awkward just standing there for the amount of time it would take her to organize the files and put them into her bag. Carson waved as he walked out the door and into the brisk morning air, she quickly waved back with a little too much enthusiasm. His apartment was only a few blocks away but turned around and walked in the other direction, deciding not to go home just yet. Danny’s family owned a bookshop that specialized in rare finds. He’d gotten many of his books on magic there over the years. With the images of the crime scenes still fresh in his memory Carson wanted to do some research on those symbols. He pulled out the slip of paper Riley just gave him and turned it over, pulling a black pen from his coat pocket. Carson drew the symbol as accurately as he could and stuffed the paper and pen back into his pocket for later.

***

Bells chimed as he opened the door to the shop. An older man stepped out from behind a bookshelf to welcome the customer but he just smiled and went back to work when he realized it was just Carson. The man was Daniel’s father, the actual owner of the shop though he let his sons mind the store most days. He only came in when there was a new shipment of books which happened once every week.

“Good morning, Ralph. Do you mind if I look at the new books?” he asked politely. Carson didn’t have the best manners but Daniel’s dad was a little old fashioned so he dusted them off just for him.

“They’re in the back room, knock yourself out.” He said as he shelved a few books.

“Thank you, sir.” The words felt like thick syrup in his mouth but he managed and proceeded to the back of the store. Chances were pretty slim that they had any new books on magic but it didn’t hurt to check. His collection of books was really Carson’s only way to study magic. Since no one would teach him, he’d just have to figure it out himself.

A stack of worn books sat in an opened box on the old oak table. Skimming over the titles he could dismiss the top few easily since he wasn’t looking to start a garden or learn Chinese history. Further in he did find one book. The title on the cover was worn and hard to read but when he opened it he found diagrams of ingredients and verses that might have been enchantments. It could be total nonsense but Carson wouldn’t know until he tried it for himself. He put all the books back into the box in their original order before heading up to the front to buy the book. He used to get the ‘friends and family’ discount but the shop had been struggling lately so he didn’t ask for it anymore. Carson was probably their best customer and he didn’t want them losing any money on him.

Ralph put the book and receipt into a bag carefully. Normally he would have just carried it out but the binding was coming undone in a few spots.

“Are you going to stay and read? Daniel should be coming in for his shift in an hour or so.” Ralph said, handing him the bag with the same caution one would use when handing over a newborn baby.

“No I have some stuff to do at home, I’ll see you around.” Carson smiled.

“Take care.”

Carson left the shop and started heading home. He felt like he had done so much today but it was only noon. Probably because he usually got out of bed around this time.

***

Carson spent most of the day rifling through books looking for that stupid symbol he had seen in the ritual circle. Even the books he had on black magic didn’t cover anything like that and those books had symbols and spells for almost everything dark and mysterious. Maybe he drew it wrong. He had a feeling Riley wouldn’t just hand over copies of evidence from an ongoing investigation so he’d probably have to stop by her office to compare them. He found a few things that didn’t quite match but could definitely be used to kill someone, though he didn’t really want Riley to know that he had that kind of information. Setting his notes aside, Carson got off the couch and stepped around piles of books. He’d cleared off most of the shelves in his search. If it was anything other than magic related he wouldn’t have nearly the same work ethic but he was also driven simply by how bothered he was that someone would do this. No wonder people were scared of magic users.

Carson opened his fridge looking for dinner, and he wasn’t too surprised when he found it nearly empty. God he needed a girlfriend or something. He’d probably be dead by now if Daniel hadn’t, for whatever reason, made it his job to make sure Carson took care of himself. He already ordered take out three times this week so he settled for his pathetic meal of cereal with a side of whiskey to make him forget how pathetic it was. He was just about to take a bite when there was a knocking at the door. He knew right away that it was Daniel because he waited a whole three seconds before unlocking the door and letting himself in.

“I knew it. I fucking knew it.” He said with a smirk.

“What?” Carson said, looking around his apartment for some idea of what he was talking about.

“You. You’re eating cereal for dinner again, no wonder you’re so skinny. Honestly, it hurts to watch. Luckily for us both I brought Chinese if only to spare myself the sight of… that.” Daniel said, making a vague gesture at his bowl and glass of bourbon.

Though Carson wouldn’t admit it, his mouth literally started watering at the scent emanating from the paper bag tucked under his friends arm. He cast the cereal aside, forgotten, and cleared enough space in his living room so they could both sit down.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me about the girl, and the case, preferably in that order?”

Carson sighed as he opened up a box of rice, “Well she’s young, kinda cute, way too enthusiastic about her job, and she has green eyes, kind of like yours. As for the case, I don’t know much yet other than they’re using circles to do their dirty work. If they want to kill someone they should at least have the dignity to do it themselves and not just use magic.” Carson took a few heavenly bites of tofu and broccoli dripping in brown sauce before continuing, “I’ve been looking for this symbol all day.” He passed the piece of paper over to him so Daniel could get a good look. Despite having no magical ability himself, it was kind of a shared hobby of theirs and Daniel knew almost as much about it as Carson did.

“Mmmm, doesn’t look familiar.” He hummed in thought. “Have you checked…” he lowered his voice and leaned over the table, “the black books.”

He was referring to the small collection of super secret, super dangerous books on black magic which probably were illegal to own. Carson didn’t look at them often, afraid that that alone would be enough to corrupt him somehow.

“Yes I checked the black books. Nothing quite matches, I need to see the original pictures again anyways. Maybe I drew it wrong and all this was for nothing. But you will be glad to know that I made some progress with my other project.”

Daniel’s eyes lit up in a way that Carson had only seen in children. He didn’t understand Daniel’s obsession with magic but then again Carson has had it for most of his life so he tended to take it for granted. Lately they’ve been working on creating some kind of tool that would make it easier to wield other types of energy. They’d tried wands and staffs and all your typical wizardy stuff but it all felt unnatural to Carson. Recently Daniel came up with the idea to enchant a pair of gloves since one of his biggest problems when using magic was that using the lingering energy of other people’s life forces,  also known as souls, tended to make him sick. It was almost like his body treated the foreign energy like an infection when he mixed the energy of different souls and drew it into himself. It was unrealistic to recklessly use his own soul to fuel his magic, he kinda needed that for staying alive. So the idea was that gloves could let him grab hold of the energy without needing to actually bringing it into his body.

Daniel was practically shaking with excitement and Carson rolled his eyes at him as he walked around the set of bookshelves that divided the living room from his bedroom, best he could do in a studio apartment. He had a small cardboard box tucked under his bed filled with all his magical toys and such. A pair of black, leather gloves sat on top. He had needed to make up a new enchantment to make them conducive to magical energy and he almost had it figured out. Carson slipped them on and walked back out to his captive audience.

“Come on, do something already!” Danny begged. He quickly moved everything valuable to one side of the room, which consisted of a few books and the Chinese food.

“Here it goes, I guess, take cover,” Carson said a little uncertainly. He flexed his fingers a few times and closed his eyes, feeling for the energy around him. It was pointless to be wearing the gloves in his own apartment since all the lingering energy there was his own. Soon his fingertips began to tingle as energy was absorbed into the leather. He smiled and let out a small cheer when the energy gathered and stopped there instead of traveling up his arm. He focused his mind on what he wanted to do with it before he could get any further, the gloves caught fire. Like actually caught fire. Daniel was quick to throw a glass of water at him before the alarm could be triggered. Most of the water splashed onto Carson’s face but he did manage to put the gloves out in the process. The whole event left Carson’s heart racing in his chest. Any longer and his fingers would have started burning with them. They both stood there for a confused minute, panting as the panic slowly settled.

“What went wrong?” Daniel broke the silence first.

“Um, maybe the energy in the gloves was too much?” Carson answered with another question, “That’s the only thing that makes sense, too much energy concentrated in one spot.”

“But they worked? Other than that?” Daniel asked hopefully. Carson nodded.

“If I can just find a way to fix that, these could change everything.”

Carson did have other magical artifacts he had successfully enchanted, but none of those could be used for more than one thing, making them useless in combat. He had basic spells for heat and cold, turning things on and off, producing light. But all those things work on their own, they couldn’t directly aid Carson in harnessing and moving energy as cool as they may be. Slipping off the wet and slightly burned gloves Carson decided to work on them later. He had other things to think about. It was starting to get dark outside despite only being 7pm, a sure sign that winter was coming. Riley might still be working at her office or at the station. He decided to try her office first, not wanting to bother her if she was at home. She answered on the third ring.

“Hello this is Riley Miller, what can I help you with?” She asked in a very professional tone. Carson was starting to wonder what part of her job as a junior detective required her own office.

“Hi,” Carson said lamely, “I need to see those pictures again to compare some things.”

“Carson?”

“Yeah,” he said, realizing she might not recognize his voice after only one meeting. “Can I stop by your office?”

“Um, sure, I’ll probably be here for a while.” She said, sounding far less energetic than she had earlier that day. Ugh, Carson groaned in his head, what if she’s one of those weird morning people? He hung up a moment later, already grabbing his things to head over there.

“You can stay and keep searching the books if you want, I’m gonna go to Riley’s office and look at those crime scene photos again.” Carson said as he threw a flannel on over his t-shirt before putting hi jacket on.

“Oh yay, I get to stay here and scour these books all by myself.” Daniel groaned.

“Oh shut up, you own a book store, don’t even pretend you aren’t itching to look through…” Carson whispered, doing his best imitation of how Daniel had said it, “the black books.”

Daniel scowled and turned away from him in mock defiance as he grabbed a few books to start looking through. Carson walked outside and called a cab.

***

The cab stopped right in front of her office at the address he gave the driver. It was especially dark now but a warm, inviting glow lit up her window, making the name and logo etched into the front even more visible. Carson pulled a few crumpled bills out of his pocket and handed them to the driver before stepping out. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked up the front steps, ready to get out of the cold dark night. It was only mid October but Carson was already tended to run cold and the frigid wind whistling through the buildings wasn’t doing him any favors. He reluctantly dragged one hand back out to knock on the door, it was black and clearly real wood. Her office was in a nice part of town, the buildings here were a little older, a little shorter. The atmosphere was starkly different from where he lived. Riley peaked out the window before opening the door. Her hair was still pulled out of her face in a ponytail but she wore a different shirt from earlier, looking more casual now. Carson noticed a pink tint to her cheeks like she’d been exercising. As he walked further into the room he saw a half empty bottle of wine among stacks of papers on her desk. That explained the flush to her cheeks which, now that he got closer, looked kind of cute on her in contrast with her eyes.

Immediately in front of him upon stepping inside was a small kitchenette with a sink, fridge, and coffee pot. To the right there was a round wooden table up against the window with a few chairs gathered around it. Behind the wall by the kitchen he saw what he guessed to be a bathroom or a closet. Lastly an old leather couch sat in the corner with a low coffee table in front of it that matched her work desk. Needless to say, it was small, everything in New York was but it was well organized aside from the various folders spread around her work space. Carson took his coat off before walking around to the couch. Riley was already looking around for the pictures he had asked to see.

“Do you want anything? Coffee?” she asked, then held up the bottle, “merlot?”

“You got any cream or sugar?” Carson asked, knowing that if he did accept the wine he’d probably melt into the soft leather and fall asleep before he got anything done.

“Sure,” she set the folder she was looking for down on the coffee table then walked into the kitchen.

“I got it,” Carson took a few long strides and beat her to the coffee pot, he was already interrupting her work, she didn’t need to serve him too. Carson found a clean mug hung next to the machine and grabbed some half and half from the fridge. “Sugar?” he asked,

“Bottom shelf in the cupboard in front of you,” she supplied helpfully, returning to her desk.

Carson took the steaming mug with him back to the couch and opened the file folder. The two photos of the ritual circles were at the top of the stack, underneath he caught a glimpse of the other half of one of the crime scenes, he shuddered, pushing the folder away from him. A quick glance at the pictures confirmed that he had copied the symbol down correctly, it really was that hard to find. The only explanation he could think of was that the symbol in the circle was really two symbols drawn on top of each other. He ran a hand over his face wondering why he hadn’t considered that sooner. The lighting wasn’t good enough to distinguish the lines as being two separate things but once he started picking the photo apart, drawing every possible combination, things started to click. He felt a little stupid for not realizing it before, though he didn’t do anything complicated enough to require more than one it wasn’t unheard of layer multiple symbols on top of each other. It could very easily be the basic symbol for a death spell with what looked like two triangles, slightly offset from each other, forming uneven points.

“I think I figured it out,” Carson said, beckoning Riley over to the couch, “come look at this.” Riley got up from her chair a little tiredly and made her way over to sit next to him.

“What am I looking at?” she asked, to her it only looked like a page of notebook paper covered in strange doodles, though there was a clear pattern once she compared it to the photos.

“Well, I couldn’t find this exact symbol anywhere in my books, but then I realized it could be multiple symbols drawn on top of each other inside the circle. This here,” Carson pointed, “is the most common symbol for a death spell. Then these triangles, I’m not sure what they’re for, but they could be used to strengthen or alter the spell.” Carson explained, all a little too quickly. The words just spilled from his mouth as the gears turned in his brain. He looked up to see Riley frowning at him. “What? I thought you wanted to know how it worked?”

“I do. But I can’t overlook the fact that you know the construction of a death spell off the top of your head. There can’t be very many people in Brooklyn, or New York for that matter, that know how to do this.”

Carson let out a long sigh. He should have expected this. No one trusts magicians, and now he’s gone and made himself a suspect.

“Not many people in New York spend all their time reading books and studying magic either. I could also draw the symbol for blocking or amplifying sound off the top of my head.” Carson said.

“Sorry it’s just, you only hear about the bad magicians, so people assume they’re all bad. I know there are plenty of magic users out there that could use their magic to do a lot of harm but instead use it for good, or not at all. Why don’t you try to hide it?” She asked curiously. Carson took a few sips of his coffee and sank back into the sofa.

“Well, I do try to hide. But I can’t just stand by and do nothing when I have the ability to do what I do. Soul magicians also don’t really fall into the same category as other magic users. Throughout history we’ve been known mostly as healers. I can do other things of course, but soul magic and the transferring of life is the easiest for me, and regular magicians can’t touch that kind of energy.” Carson explained, it felt good to talk about it to someone other than Daniel. He just hoped he wasn’t making a mistake trusting her.

“Right, I’ve heard some rumors, stories, but I never really gave it much thought.” She said. “So you can heal people, even bring them back to life?” he nodded. “Can you also use it the other way, to hurt people?”

Carson nearly choked on his coffee, “No, it seems to be a one way exchange.” Carson lied. He searched her face for any sign that she didn’t believe him but didn’t find anything. No reason to make himself seem any more dangerous than he already did. Carson changed the subject by giving Riley a different truth, “there is a downside to it though.”

“Yeah?” She prompted.

“When I’ve brought people back, which only works if they’ve been dead for a few minutes at the most, I’ve seen death. It’s not something you can forget.”

Riley frowned, turning away from him. “What did it feel like?” She asked quietly.

Carson couldn’t contain the full body cringe that came with just thinking about it. He didn’t know how to describe it, didn’t want to. But it was cold, empty, lonely, painful, wrong, and it haunted him.

[topicprinter]

There are quite a few ways to make some extra cash online. If you follow this subreddit, you probably know that already.You’ve probably also noticed that one of the most challenging parts of online entrepreneurship is finding the right niche.Look around, and you’ll find tons of information about how to do the whole “making money online” thing.Whether it’s affiliate marketing, dropshipping, selling t-shirts, or whatever else, you’ll find a wealth of step by step guides that can teach you just about everything you need to know about strategies that work.Sure, there’s a learning curve at play there. And it can get kind of overwhelming if you’re new to all this stuff. But with some time, dedication, and perseverance, you can learn what you need to know to start making a profit as an internet entrepreneur.Whether your goal is to bring in some extra beer money with a fun, low-maintenance little side hustle, or to create something you can scale over time into a liveable, sustainable income, you can make it happen.But you may have noticed something. Despite all the awesome free information out there, there’s one thing that, at the end of the day, no one can really spoonfeed to you.And that’s finding a niche.In a lot of ways, that’s really the tricky part. And it’s a central aspect of a bunch of different kinds of online businesses.Maybe it’s not universally applicable, per se, but niche selection is essential for such perennial /r/entrepreneur standbys as affiliate marketing, dropshipping on Shopify, creating monetizeable Instagram accounts, and more.It’s also important to what I do, which is Kindle publishing.I know there are other Reddit posts out there about finding a niche, not to mention a million blog posts on the subject.But even so, I wanted to share my own “in-the-trenches” knowledge and experience because I noticed there’s a lot of bad information online.I love this stuff. I remember when I was starting out spending hours upon hours throughout the night (and often saw the sun come up) researching different niches.Again, my experience is with ebook publishing, but I’m also talking about broader concepts that are applicable in other entrepreneurial pursuits.So here’s my advice on finding profitable niches. And it’s maybe a little contrary from what you’re used to hearing over and over again.So let’s get started.This is a pretty long post, so here’s a quick TL;DR of the key points.Go for profit over passion. Profit potential takes precedence over your own personal interest in a subject. Remember, you can always outsource your content and copy to someone who does know a lot about the topic.Go for big, evergreen mass market niches that always sell. I’ll explain why, and what these niches have in common.Focus on solving a specific problem. “Getting in shape” is a broad niche. “How to get a six pack in 6 weeks or less” is a specific problem.Autosuggest is one of the most efficient ways to pinpoint those specific problems. This applies on Amazon, as well as on Google and Youtube. You can also find tools like KeywordShitter and AnswerThePublic that make it easier to find and collate that information.Should I Pick a Niche That Interests Me?This is a pretty common question, and yes, I have been asked this by people quite a few times.And honestly, this is something that comes up periodically here at /r/entrepreneur, I’ve noticed.There are two pieces of advice you see a lot. And they’re mutually contradictory.Some people will say, “Yes, go for your passion! You’ll be miserable if you’re grinding away writing content for a niche in which you have zero interest. Find what moves and drives you, and channel that passion. If you’re into cars, do affiliate marketing for auto accessories. If you’re into fashion, try finding a subniche in apparel and accessories.”Others say the opposite.“No matter how much you love something, when you create a business out of it, it’s going to feel like work. And this could lead you to resent something you used to love. Don’t make a business out of your passions or hobbies. Pick something toward which you’re more neutral, but that you know is going to sell.”So which is it?Both arguments honestly have some pretty good points.Personally, I like to lean toward the second option: choosing a niche based on the bottom line, not on personal passion.That’s not to say you can’t choose a niche you’re at least somewhat into. But here’s why I’m more in favor of Option 2:A lot of hobbies and interests are, frankly, kind of hard to commodify. If you’re into, say, French symbolist poetry, there’s not a whole lot you can really do with that. At least, not at scale.With some things, commodification kind of “feels wrong.” Think spirituality, that kind of thing. This is pretty individually variable, though, and I’m not here to make any value judgments of any kind.Chances are, you’ll end up outsourcing most of the “grunt work” anyway. A quick look through /r/juststart confirms that when getting started, most people write their own content. But as someone who’s published tons of books and stuff, I’ll say this: no matter how much you enjoy writing, doing it all day, every day, in high quantities, burns you out like nothing else.Even if you’re a super gifted writer -- a professional writer, even -- you’ll reach a point where you’ll want to outsource that kind of thing.Why? Because if you’re doing all the work yourself, you will reach a point where you can’t scale anymore.For instance, let’s say your output is 1 book per month. And after a few months, I guarantee you’ll want to take a break to recharge.But if you are outsourcing your work, you can get 3, 5, 10 books done PER month.(Again, my experience is in Kindle publishing, so I’m talking mostly about content, info products, etc. But I’m sure it’ll apply to physical products, creating an app, etc.)At the end of the day, the goal here is to start a business and make money. For that reason, it makes a whole lot of sense to focus on profitability, the level of competition, the potential for a “first mover” advantage in a nascent market, and other things like that.Again, you might have a hobby or a passion that actually does lend itself well to starting a business of some kind. Selling products, writing a series of books about it, blogging about it and posting product reviews with affiliate links, whatever.But don’t feel like you have to start with your own interests. If you don’t HATE it or if it does not go against your values, then it’s fine. (But NEVER go against your values because you’ll end up sabotaging yourself. For instance, I will not promote a business that is related to drugs, violence, or porn no matter how much potential there is because I will not feel good about doing it and I end up sabotaging myself.)Not interested in learning about knee high and thigh high boots tailored for the thicker calves of plus size women, even though there’s a rapidly growing market for that kind of thing?Find a writer who’s a plus size woman who loves fashion and wears a lot of boots during the winter. Get her to write up your product reviews, or write up general supporting blog content like fall fashion style guides and editorials about body positivity.She’ll gladly write for you. And no offense, but she’ll end up doing a heck of a better job than you, because it’s what she loves.And, what you end up paying her is a tiny fraction of the amount of money you’re ultimately going to make from that content. Check out my post about what kind of freelancers to avoid to save yourself a lot of headache, though.There’s a lot you can outsource, and for a lot less money than you might think. So don’t toss an idea just because it’s not a personal interest of yours.The advice I give to my students is: get some stable, consistent cashflow going first, then you can focus on your passions.You’ll enjoy these passions a thousand times more if you do this because there’s no pressure to make a profit from it. You’ll be way more creative also.Do I Need to Be Knowledgeable About My Niche?I kind of touched on this one in the previous section.It probably depends on what kind of business you’re running, what your goals are, and other variables that can be different from person to person.But what I do want to emphasize here is that you don’t have to feel like you need to be a world class expert on a subject to build a business around it.Don’t let yourself succumb to the whole “imposter syndrome” thing. You’d be surprised what you can do with some simple Googling in your free time.We live in a freaking golden age of information right now. Thanks to the internet and smartphones, you are literally holding the entire wealth of human knowledge in the palm of your hand.With just some determination, some free time, and the magic of Google Search, you can quickly learn the basics about almost anything.And honestly, the basics are all you’ll really need.When it comes to content -- whether it’s a book you’re selling, or a blog post housing affiliate links -- what matters is that you know more than your audience about how to solve their problem.Someone needs to attach two pieces of wood together with a nail? You don’t have to be a world class authority on hammers to give them the answers they need. You don’t need to know about the rich history of hammers, or how hammers are manufactured. You don’t even need to be all that knowledgeable about building and construction in general.You just need to know that your audience needs a hammer.And oh, look, you have a bunch of great product reviews of the very best hammers for their specific kind of nail. Or, you’ve got a comprehensive ebook that gives a full step by step guide to hammers and how to use them to pound a nail.So don’t feel like you need to be a #1 authority or expert on your chosen niche.How to Find a Niche: Start with the Timeless Evergreen Niches That Always, Always SellWhen people talk about niche selection, they put the biggest emphasis on specificity. They focus on narrowing things down.Now, don’t get me wrong. That’s definitely something you should do. But that step comes later.Before you begin, you want to focus on “selling what sells”.There are big, massive, evergreen niches where there will always, always be a market full of people itching to break out their pocketbook and pay you for solutions to their problems.Now, these niches have some pretty important things in common. And I think it’s worth talking about those things.What is it about these things that make them so perennially profitable?It comes down to basic human desires. Love, sensory pleasures, material wealth, self-confidence, social success, self-actualization. These desires are basically universal, at least within contemporary Western culture.They revolve around things that people want on a very deep and fundamental level, in ways they’re not necessarily even fully aware of.Love and friendship. For the most part, humans want to find a romantic partner with whom they can share both emotional and sexual intimacy. Someone to love them and support them.Social success. People want others to like them. This ties into things like beauty and getting in shape, although that also relates to the desire to find a mate. It also ties into self-help topics, like how to be more confident, how to get better at public speaking, etc.Material wealth. Good old “how to make money.” Whether it’s investing in real estate, starting a small business, or whatever, people are always looking for ways to make more money. Again, this also ties into the concept of social success.Entertainment. People like to have fun. They like humor. They like to laugh. They like to read about celebrities or whatever, vicariously reveling in the sumptuous glamour and sexy scandals of the rich and famous. A lot of late 20th century sociologists and thinkers wrote about the concept of the “culture industry.” Think of that kind of thing.Self-actualization and personal fulfillment. People want to feel content in their lives. They want to find a sense of peace with the immanent reality of their own existence. They want to find ways to create meaning and infuse their lives with a sense of purpose that makes them feel complete.As I mentioned, there might be some cultural variance here. I am not a psychologist, nor am I a sociologist, nor am I an anthropologist or a historian. Someone more knowledgeable on these subjects might be able to weigh in here.So, here’s a list of the specific “mass market evergreen niches” I’m referring to. Each of them ties into at least one of the general human desires I was talking about above.Mass media. Celebrity bios, stuff about TV shows or entertainment history, that kind of thing. Also “geek stuff,” pop culture stuff, etc. Think “pop culture,” which kind of runs the gamut from trashy tabloids, to comic book and TV show fandoms, and everything in between. Everyone partakes of the mass media culture industry. There are radically different audiences within it -- from blue collar housewives who devour the latest from TMZ, to sophisticated urbanites with a refined appreciation of contemporary interior design and decor, to people who are geeks and proud of it, guys who play D&D or have an encyclopedic knowledge of Star Wars trivia. Sports stuff is in this category, too. Even fashion fits here.Diet and weight loss. This is America. We’ve got a massive obesity epidemic going on. We’re constantly surrounded by foods that are bursting with calories, but that aren’t very filling. (Seriously, take a look at the nutrition facts on those little cans of Coke and stuff. It’s insane.) People are always trying to lose weight -- and unfortunately, in most cases, failing at it. It can take some time to find a regimen that works for their personal tastes and their lifestyle.Fitness. Another thing people want is to get fit and get in shape. This one pairs well with weight loss and dieting, but it’s really its own distinct niche. Getting fit doesn’t always mean losing weight.Self development. Self-help books are always a perennial bestseller. One of the most important things we need to do in this life is to understand ourselves, and sometimes even better ourselves. I mean, think about it. None of us chose to be here, and if we did, we don’t remember it. We’re thrust into this world, as conscious beings capable of joy as well as suffering, facing down the eternal coldness of the hard problem of consciousness. People look for ways to infuse their lives with meaning and a sense of purpose. They look for a compass to guide them through life’s confusing twists and turns.Cooking. Everybody eats food. Some more, others less. So cooking is another perennial niche you can consider. Cookbooks sell like crazy, believe it or not.Dating and relationships. Finding a romantic partner is another big part of human life, at least for the majority of people. There are also the many problems of long term relationships and marriage -- dealing with disagreements, keeping sex interesting after multiple decades, rekindling romance in the wake of an empty nest, etc.Gaming. This one’s maybe a little more recent and modern than the others, but it really is a golden niche. I guess you could really stick this into the “mass media entertainment” category, but I thought it deserved a mention on its own.Making money. Everyone wants to find ways to bring in some extra cash. Money doesn’t buy happiness by any means, but what it can do is secure the base of the Maslow Pyramid. And that’s really important.There are more to this list. But what’s important here is what these niches have in common: an appeal to basic, deep-seated, universal human desires for things like love, acceptance, wealth, and meaning.So these things are evergreen. There is always money to be made. You might be thinking, “Aren’t these super saturated and high competition?”Sometimes, but they’re also massive and broad. There’s plenty of room in these markets.The Key to “Niching Down”You might not actually need to narrow your niche down as much as people seem to think you do. After all, go too niche, and you’re faced with a limited market. Sure, you might make some money, but you’ll hit a ceiling.Anyway, the key to pinpointing a subniche is to focus on answering a specific question or solving a specific problem.“How do I lose weight?” is a big thing, but it’s not necessarily super specific. There are a lot of ways to lose weight. There are also a lot of reasons for losing weight, and a lot of different subsections of the population of “people who want to lose weight.”You’ve got people who are morbidly obese, whose very lives may depend on dropping the extra adipose tissue that’s slowly destroying their bodies.But then, you’ve got, say, women in their 30s who aren’t obese, but who want to lose a few pounds. Like, 25 lbs or less. It’s not a health issue for them, so much as an issue of beauty, confidence, and sex appeal.The way each of those groups goes about losing weight is going to be different. Their specific problems are different, and they’re looking for different things.So let’s say you want to write an ebook and sell it on Amazon Kindle. You’ve got weight loss in mind as the topic. Cool.Now, you need a specific problem.The Power of Autocomplete: Finding the Exact Questions Your Audience Is AskingSo what’s an example of a specific problem? And how do you go about looking for them?You can find them by doing some keyword research. It’s not just for SEO -- it’s also a way to get a peek into what your audience is thinking.In my case, the focus is on what people search for on Amazon. These days, when people want to buy something -- whether it’s a product or a book on a subject -- they’ll usually go to Amazon directly, rather than using Google.But in other businesses, Google or even YouTube might be where you want to focus.Whether it’s on Amazon or Google, you can learn a lot about what people are asking and where the demand is at by checking out what comes up with the autocomplete feature.You can also check out resources like AnswerThePublic.com to find these questions, or use a tool like KeywordShitter or Keyword.io. The latter two actually draw from Google’s Autosuggest feature, so it’s a quicker way of getting that info than doing it manually.Either way, you’ll find queries and searches like these, which are what you want to focus on.“How To Lose Weight Without Diet And Exercise?” “How To Draw For Kids” “How To Lose Weight Journal” “How To Cure A Migraine”Sometimes they’re actually phrased in question format, and sometimes they’re not but you get the picture.Hone in on these specific questions and searches. Then, offer your audience a specific answer.Whether you’re putting together a buying guide for protein shakes or you’re writing a series of ebooks about weight loss and getting in shape, you can maximize your profits by offering a specific solution to a specific problem.This is what’s worked for me over the years: BIG Evergreen Niche --> Specific Problem Within That NicheI’m not the only person offering this advice, or at least I don’t think I am. But, it works.I realize that this subreddit is pretty diverse. Not all of us sell ebooks, or create monetized content. There are people here with cleaning services, with restaurants and bars, with brick and mortar boutiques, and more.So my advice might not be applicable in every single case. But if you want to make some extra cash online, in a way that revolves around informational content, this strategy has worked time and time again.I do hope this was helpful to some of you guys out there. Let me know if you’ve got any further questions about this stuff.

[soyoureviewhiphoptoo]

Reviewing XXL Freshman Class 2017

XXL have created something that gets the hip-hop world talking. A list of around ten up-and-coming artists are brought in for a cover story for the XXL magazine consisting of interviews, individual freestyles and group cyphers. While there have been debates whether or not the XXL list still holds relevance the modern day hip-hop, seeing as the culture has shifted from the lyrical rappers of the past and moved towards melodies over heavy production, it is very hard to dispute the system that has been established. With a LONG list of great talent that were past freshmen and the ease of creating conversation this brings, it is difficult is completely dismiss the impact of the XXL list.

In my opinion, the last few years have been lacklustre for the XXL list due to the hip-hop paradigm shift I mentioned earlier, leading to subpar freestyles and cyphers. However, when I saw the list, I was very hopeful to see some great things this year...and not just before this was the first year I knew all but one rapper on the list.

In this special review, I will be going through each of the cypher verses delivered by the 2017 Freshmen, breaking down the lyrics and generally giving unwanted criticism. Without further ado, here is the review of the XXL Freshman Class of 2017

XXL Freshman Cypher with Madeintyo, Playboi Carti, XXXTentacion and Ugly God

I feel that it is best to talk about this particular cypher first as it has generated the most conversation and had the largest reaction towards it (and not necessarily positive). This cypher consisted of Madeintyo, Playboi Carti, XXXTentacion and Ugly God and honestly, I was not overly impressed. The cypher kicked off with a verse by Young Carti. The A$AP Mob affiliate first made a name for himself, appearing Telephone Calls with A$AP Rocky and Tyler, The Creator before releasing his self-titled mixtape with the hit single Magnolia. As his freestyle clearly indicated, Playboi Carti is not the type of rapper to pull off a lyrical showcase although we were under impression that he could save himself when there is a beat to back...we were wrong. Carti lazily strings together a few words on each line, leaning heavily on his ad-libs...Issa no from me dawg. Next, we have Madeintyo. Best known for his singles Uber Everywhere, I Want (with 2 Chainz) and Skateboard P (both the original and the remix with Big Sean), Mr Tokyo came in as a promising prospect for this cypher. While his flow is great on this track, he doesn’t fully utilise his lyrical skill and with the dramatically short length of his verse, it leaves you underwhelmed. The third man up is Young Pussy Bacon himself, Ugly God. With songs like Water, Booty From a Distance, I Beat My Meat and F*ck Ugly God, he makes it clear that he is a comedic rapper that you don’t need to take seriously and you can just laugh at how ridiculous his rhymes are. If you listen to the other two cypher verses, they are very clearly off-the-dome freestyles. Ugly God was also able to flow off-the-dome unlike Madeintyo and Playboi Carti, he is able to flow naturally and he is even able to borrow flows from his fellow artists. Ugly God lets off a positive vibe that brings back the fun to cypher rapping.

Then the fun abruptly stops...

Walking into the camera’s view, he crouches down and looks down into the ground as the DJ, Sonny Digital, stops the beat. One of the more controversial artists in the new age of Hip-Hop starts his verse with two lines that kills the upbeat party mood entirely and catches every person listening off guard.

And if the world ever has an apocalypse I will kill all of you fuckers

XXXTentacion is certainly an out-of-the-box rapper. Rising to popularity following the release of his hit single, Look At Me while he was in jail, X cultivated the largest fan following of any of the Freshmen this year. His large fan following naturally led to a lot of hype going towards his potential cypher verse. I must say, X has given the world the most intriguing, outlandish cypher verse in the history of XXL. Delivering an acapella verse detailing his murderous intentions if the world were to end and denouncing all forms of religion.

What is your faith? What is your worth? Have you felt acknowledgement? If I kill you now, will you go to heaven or hell you believe in?

While his verse has given him the label of an evil, satanic preacher trying to summon the vilest demons from the very pits of hell, it is a very interesting take on a cypher that almost forces you to listen to every single word he says. 

Best Verse: XXXTentacion Worse Verse: Playboi Carti

XXL Freshman Cypher with Kamaiyah, Kap G and PnB Rock

Next up, I will discuss the last cypher released on the XXL channel. This Cypher consists of Kamaiyah, Kap G and PnB Rock and I feel that this cypher was the best in terms of bars being sprayed and seeing as it was comprised of three of the more underrated artists in this Freshman Class, it definitely deserved a bit more credit.

It starts off with PnB Rock who (while I did just call underrated) is one of the more well-known artists on this list. Rising to fame with his hit single Selfish and his subsequent album release GTTM: Goin Thru The Motions, Rock made a name for himself as a RnB singer so I did not have any expectations in terms of his rap skills. Needless to say, I was proven wrong. Rock goes on to spit a short story of a girl he had just met for a one night stand and while his attitude was not what you would call “gentlemanly”, she would be attracted to his brashness, prompting her to call her friend for a threesome...only in the world of rap. While Rock makes what I like to call “f*ckboy music”, I really enjoyed his flow and energy on this verse and it made me overlook the morality of it all. For the next artist, I have a confession to make. I had never heard of Kap G before the reveal of this cover...frankly, he was the only artist on this cover I did not know. I now that he is a Georgia native who has been active since 2011, gaining attention with singles La Policia, Girlfriend and Freakin n Geekin. I had decided to not listen to a single Kap G song until I heard his cypher verse. Unfair, I know but to his credit, Kap speeds through with a strong freestyle. Unlike PnB Rock and Kamaiyah after him, Kap chooses to hit with a fast delivery for his bars and while it seems like he goes too fast to catch the beat, he is able to compose himself and save the flow.

Uh, Kap, Rollie all on my wrist Rollie all on my bitch, uh

Kap G even borrows some bars from 21 Savage’s cypher verse from 2016. I think that was very cool.

Finally, we have Oakland M.C., Kamaiyah. Strong rapper in her own right, she first made a big name for herself, appearing alongside YG and Drake on the single, Why You Always Hatin?. She came in as one of the stronger and more “traditional” rappers and this cypher verse is a strong indicator. At 152 seconds, Kamaiyah completely takes over this cypher with the longest cypher verse in XXL history; she pretty much hijacks the song and makes it her own. Kamaiyah really brings out an old school flow over this beat it is a breath of fresh air. Kamaiyah definitely delivered one of the stronger verses of this year. My only problem is that she is keeping the same flow and a similar rhyme scheme over a longer period of time, which can become boring over multiple listens.

Best Verse: Kamaiyah Worst Verse: Kap G

XXL Freshman Cypher with Kyle, A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie and Amine

Consisting of Kyle, A Boogie and Amine, The first cypher released this year was the best cypher of this year...Yes, I said it.

First off, we have Kyle. Kyle is actually one of the artists in this class that I’ve known of the longest, first hearing his song, Lexicon under his old moniker, K.I.D back in 2012. In recent history, he would release big singles Really? Yeah!, Doubt It and his hit single, iSpy (with Lil Yachty). Kyle kick off the cypher, literally blasting into the spotlight like a bi-racial Buzz Lightyear and spit the best cypher verse of this year...it is the just truth. He has the best verse in any of the three cyphers for a few reasons: he flexes his lyrical dexterity with his happy, yet confident flow that he is able to switch easily from full-blown rapping to talking to singing to rapping again. He gets you immediately into the positive and bouncy vibe of the cypher and frankly, he makes it hard for A Boogie and Amine to follow...which is crazy considering they both had very good verses.

Don't got no gold but my record is platinum So picture perfect I don't need a caption I don't give a fuck 'bout how long you been rappin' Got flow so old I could spit 'em in Latin

Starting off the cypher with bars like that and giving off a vibe that makes a man stand still and fold his arms and smile like this. Kyle wins, man.

Next up, we have A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie. When I first heard of this guy, I had a thought most people probably “What kind of rap name is that?”. It is very hard to take rappers who have their names as long phrases or sentences seriously. Anyway, A Boogie is possibly the most successful of the freshman this year, release numerous hit singles (My Shit, Jungle, Timeless and Drowning featuring Kodak Black) all within the space of a year. Making a name for himself with melody driven raps, it was interesting to see A Boogie change up the flow and spit some bars for the cypher. Giving his verse a mixture of a straight rap style and a melodic rap near the end, A Boogie carries himself well, delivering a strong brag verse that carries on a strong vibe. Finally, we have the aforementioned Amine. Making it big, following the release of the hit single (and one of my favourite songs from 2016), Caroline, Amine was one of the people I was genuinely excited to see on this cover. Amine comes in to spit a story verse for his cypher. What I appreciated about this verse more than PnB Rock’s verse from his cypher is that Amine talks about a very different story than we are used to in raps; going to an ex-girlfriend’s wedding and realising she was not as great as he had thought when they were together, dismissing her new relationship and bragging about how great he actually is without her, telling her she was the one who missed out. 

Best Verse: Kyle Worst Verse: A Boogie

As for my opinion on the 2017 Freshman Class, I appreciate how there are more rappers on this cover that can be considered as “lyrical”, leading the perception that the XXL cover is a strong representation of the state of up-and-coming rappers these days (which is not necessarily true). With this in mind, this class is far from the greatest. There are some talented rappers on this cover but some of the artists on here lack a defining character that sets them apart from the already established rappers in what one person could call the “new golden age of rap”, leading me to believe that some of the talent here do not have longevity in the industry. Still, listening to these cyphers and giving a listen to these artists’ discographies is certainly worth while. 

The artists that I would personally recommend are Kyle, Amine, Ugly God (if you are into strange, comedy rap), Kamaiyah and XXXTentacion (despite his odd name and the fact that he is “a murderer, son of a serpent”).

While the 2017 Class may indicate an upward trend towards future Freshman classes, it, sadly, does not measure up to the past.

There is a reason why the 2013 has arguably regarded as the greatest overall class (excluding Kirko Bangs and Trinidad Jame$...)

[volantisand]

this just in - MARIANA “ MARI ” REYES has been in wickway for A MONTH. apparently SHE is a DANCER AT DRIFTWOOD and a CIVILIAN or so HER passport says. so far it’s known that SHE favors JOE AND GO, and resides at WEST PORT. SHE is also said to be LOYAL & CLEVER, but also CALCULATING & GUARDED. at the end of the day, SHE can be described as RED STAINED LIPS, DELICATE HANDS WIPING BLOOD OFF OF DAGGERS AND MISCHIEVOUS SMIRKS FOLLOWING UNDERESTIMATION.

hello again, loves !!! i bring you all the devil reincarnated herself, my baby mariana <33 her pinterest can be found anywhere here !! but it’s kinda messy

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ▸

FULL NAME: MARIANA MERCEDES REYES

NICKNAME(S): MARI

NAME MEANING / PRONUNCIATION: MARIANA MEANING OF THE SEA  OR  BITTER. MERCEDES MEANING MERCIES. REYES MEANING KINGS. ( MA-REE-AH-NAH MER-SEH-DEHS RAY-YES  )

AGE: TWENTY FIVE

DATE OF BIRTH: APRIL 18TH

RANK / TITLE: CIVILIAN, EX-LEADER OF OUTSIDE GANG FROM HER HOMETOWN

OCCUPATION: DANCER AT DRIFTWOOD

HAIR COLOR:  DARK BROWN NEARLY BLACK

EYE COLOR: HAZEL  

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 ▸

POSITIVE: ATTENTIVE, ARTICULATE, CLEVER, CULTURED, DETERMINED, DRIVEN, INSIGHTFUL, LOYAL, PASSIONATE, PERCEPTIVE, PERFECTIONISTIC, PERSONABLE, SCRUPULOUS, WHIMSICAL

NEGATIVE: BLUNT, DISTRUSTING, HOT HEADED, SOMETIMES IMPULSIVE, GUARDED, METICULOUS, SARCASTIC, STOIC, STUBBORN

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 ▸

FATHER: VICTOR REYES ( alive )

MOTHER: LUCIA REYES CASTILLO ( alive )

SIBLINGS: TWO OLDER BROTHERS, AN OLDER SISTER AND A YOUNGER SISTER

CHILDREN: NONE

𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ▸

GANG(S): ANARCHY OF ROSEWICK ( formerly, it remains active ), CURRENTLY NOT AFFILIATED.

MARK: TATTOOED BIRD ON HER RIB CAGE, IT’S ACTUALLY SMALL BUT PIC ANYWHERE HERE and a few smaller little birds, much less detailed, surrounding it

POSITION / RANK: LEADER ( formerly )

WEAPON OF CHOICE: DAGGERS RARELY HAS A GUN.

YEARS AFFILIATED: EIGHT YEARS

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 / 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 ▸

born and raised in a fictional town called rosewick, she’s one of my past muses that has been adapted to come into wickway <33

she was named after her paternal grandmother. and had a very good relationship with both of her parents. growing up, she was always very in touch with her hispanic culture, adoring everything about her roots and then some. she began dancing before she could even walk properly and fell in love with it instantly. 

she’s also not very tall bc frankly, i’m not either so my muses suffer with me, 5′2 at best.. however, she wears heels nearly twenty four seven. unless, y’know at home, at the beach or... idk working out. 

having been born on the 18th of april, she is an aries. 

“ Fun, free-spirited, and fiercely independent, the Aries woman is a breath of fresh air – a brightly burning candle in human form. Fire is her element, igniting all that she touches with the living spark of life. The Aries personality is creative, passionate, energetic and – at times – domineering and short-tempered. A cardinal sign ruled by the planet Mars, the Ram is great at getting things going, initiating endeavors, and infusing her enthusiasm into everything she does ”

true to herself, and her zodiac sign, mariana is a vixen. a total coquette but dangerous. we’ll get there, though !! first... lil fun fact: dance was a major part of her life, she often won competitions with flying colors and excelled in every routine taught to her.

she was seventeen when she met jacob day, captain of the college’s baseball team. their star pitcher. and eventually, her boyfriend. he was older than her, two years. but he was sweet and romantic. at least, at first. jacob day would prove to be the absolute worst thing to ever happen to her. 

a few months later, he’d become a junkie, paying other kids to take the athletic drug tests for him and eventually - he got abusive. she stuck around because he had never gotten physical, only verbal. and most days he was still the same boy she thought she’d fallen in love with. most days.

he was twenty the night he died and she was eighteen the night she killed him. he’d laid a hand on her a few weeks prior to that wretched night. they were at a party, not unlike high schoolers their age who think they’re grown when they’re absolutely not. they’d gone up to the second floor of the lake house so she could find a bathroom. he grew irritated with the young girl in the bathroom and laid hands on her once again. only this time, her temper got the best of her. he was drunk, rendered a bit slower and a lot taller than her. she was quick and agile and while she tells herself that she hadn’t meant for him to die. deep down, she knows that she did. he had laid lifeless in a pool of his own blood and she had stared, her own once pristine hands stained with the crimson of the very same blood. 

she had acted fast after having realized he was very much dead and washed the blood off of her hands. moments later, she was calling her late uncle’s wife, her lawful aunt and the woman who had taken over the gang her uncle once led. she showed up a while later and the two left the lake house, leaving behind a spotless bathroom and absolutely no evidence of mariana’s crimes.   

she took her under her wing, agreed to protect her under the promise of her joining the gang. mariana sat a few hours later, on eliana’s couch with a fresh small tattoo on her ribcage linking her to the gang. 

it didn’t take long for the leader and her to actually get to know each other, having not had any solid relationship when her uncle was alive. one year later, eliana named mariana her second in command. of course, no one understood why on earth, a girl who had just barely turned nineteen could be given such a high power. not even mariana herself understood it.

two years later, she rose to the throne following eliana’s death. by then, she had been completely molded by the late leader and had been taught everything she could possibly need. and then some. mariana was trained in combat, gang ties, suppliers and how to keep them happy as well as game plans to ensure that anarchy remain at the top. 

the gang loved her, she was an intelligent girl that had lost a lot at a young age. it toughened her up. and the suppliers loved her because... she was never late on a payment.   

when mariana became the leader, she shifted blake dietrich’s position to second in command. it only seemed fair, he was her best friend. her partner in crime and the sole person she absolutely trusted with her life as well as secrets. though, they’ve known each other for a lot longer than before she made him her right hand man. 

they kept the gang upright together. matter of fact, anarchy had never been better since they were in charge. she was young and pretty, looked anything but what she really was. it gave anarchy the upper hand because everyone else knew exactly who their leader was but did not believe it. she was hidden in plain sight without having to hide at all. 

underestimation, often drove her to do better. those who dared to be verbal with their doubts, died. she, herself, was lethal and absolutely ruthless. her middle name, mercedes meaning mercies, was the most ironic thing to have ever happened. she finds it funny and throws it in the faces of others. 

“ the only merciful thing about me is in my name. ”

she and blake have spent a few months maybe even a year, on the run, after having been walking on eggshells in rosewick. as powerful as a gang can be... it’s only as powerful as its weakest member. and because of a slip up on their end, blake and mariana were compromised. of course, she would rather die than snitch on her own kind - though had they snitched, they probably wouldn’t have had to leave their home. mariana packed her bags and even blake’s before grabbing him and all but dragging him out of rosewick.

they spent some time traveling around the states, living their best lives before mari mentioned the island and now... here they are. 

though, with power like mariana’s and blake’s, they’ve fallen under the santoro gang’s radar. they’re being watched with interest, the main goal being that they join them.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ▸

honestly, anything !!