#while also still having that unnerving aura that some dolls have

[doctorharleenquinzell]

I looked up good guy doll replicas because I think it would be cute to have and they are FOUR HUNDRED US DOLLARS

[nightshade-minho]

-The One-

Warnings: very very mild knifeplay, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), fingering, creampie, light navel play, tiny mention of blood, rituals, themes of witchcraft + demons, jealousy, sir kink, master kink, threesome, aftercare.

Felix × fem!Reader × Minho

Wc: 3k

Note: I stayed up all night writing this and was half-asleep so I apologize for any mistakes or incoherencies. Regardless, I’m quite proud of this fic hehe, and I’d love some feedback on it~

You could barely breathe. The feeling of his cock stretching you out as you sat on his lap, combined with the heady feeling of the knife's tip pressed against your skin was driving you insane with arousal.

"Such a pretty one you are...we don't usually get customers like you."

You scrunched your eyes shut, not wanting to make eye contact with him. His smirk, his golden eyes that gleamed with confidence...it would all make you even more nervous than you already were.

"Sir...p-please don't hurt me."

"Tsk. I won't, princess. Not yet." He shifted you on his lap, causing his tip to rub up against your sweet spot. You let out a soft moan as he did so, your eyes slowly opening and drifting down to the shiny steel pressed against your torso.

"Will it...will it hurt?"

He gently dragged the knife upwards, eyes fixed on you. He wasn't applying any pressure, and the blade itself wasn't very sharp...but it still sent tingles through you.

"Not really. If you're a good girl for us, it won't. The ritual is a very short one, and doesn't have many side effects."

"Okay...wait, us?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. My boss. He'll be here soon, don't worry. He's a busy man. I take care of the shop when he's not here."

"Oh...so you're like, his assistant?"

"Mmhm. You could say that. He doesn't pay me, though." He mutters, expression faltering for a second. The smirk slowly returned though, as he dragged the steel gently up between your breasts, pausing.

"Why...w-why do you work here, then?"

"He's family. My older brother,to be exact."

"O-oh..."

"Yup. In fact, enjoy my leniency while you can. I can assure you, my brother is a lot more..."

He sighed, poking the tip into your skin lightly, but not enough to draw blood.

"Sadistic."

You gulped as Felix suddenly started thrusting up into you, his hips gaining a newfound vigor. You groaned, throwing your head back as he hit your sweet spot again.

You never thought you'd end up like this...A few weeks ago, you were living your life like any other college student.

When winter break came along, you'd been more than excited to get back to your hometown...the place you'd grew up in. One of the first things you did was visit the woods, searching for the tree house you'd made when you were about 10 years old.

Of course, you hadn't expected to see a cottage where your tree house had formerly been. On hindsight, it probably wasn't a good idea to knock.

You hadn't expected to see a cute boy open the door, either.

Felix, he said his name was.

The cottage wasn't a house after all...it was more of an eccentric little shop, the shelves lined with curious looking bottles and dusty books.

You'd definitely thought the man was cuckoo, especially when he started talking about witchcraft and rituals. He was undeniably hot, though...

One thing led to another and here you were a few days later, having sex with someone you barely knew. That someone also happened to talk an awful lot about demons and witchcraft. God, you were stupid to trust him.

"This ritual...what does it require, again? And there's absolutely no side effects?"

"Nope. All you want is revenge, correct? We can make that happen."

"Having sex with you is part of it, right?"

Felix laughed, taking his knife away and resting it on the table next to him. "Oh, you truly do hurt me. Here I was thinking you were having sex with me cause you wanted to." He adjusted himself in his chair, lifting you off his cock and turning you around.

He slowly eased you back down onto his length, groaning softly under his breath at your tightness.

"Look here. Intercourse with a virgin is stage one of the ritual, and semen also happens to be one of the ingredients." He said, pulling your back against his chest and lifting a finger, causing a dusty old book in the corner of the room to hover over.

You squinted at the page, the words registering itself in your brain.

"Wait...how did you know I'm a virgin?"

"It's glaringly obvious, doll."

You gritted your teeth, biting your lip as Felix let the book drop to the floor, his hands on your waist as he slowly started fucking up into you.

"Remember, you asked for this. You're the one who came here first. You gave me full consent to do this."

"I d-did."

"Mmhmm. Don't forget to tell Minho that. If he's not a corpse somewhere, that is...he usually isn't this late."

A shiver ran through you as Felix suddenly got up with you still on his cock, his fingers digging into your skin as he took you over to the window. He slid apart the heavy purple curtains with one hand.

"Ah...there he is."

You twisted your neck slightly. Eyes misty with arousal, you could barely make out the shadowy figure approaching. Felix's fingers on your chin forced you to face him again, his smile slightly unsettling.

"He's here. I'll remind you again. This was your choice."

"M-my choice..." You gulped as the door opened, the bells tinkling.

There was silence for a few minutes. Felix's form was blocking the figure in the shop. You made a sound of frustration as you craned your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of this mysterious man, despite the fear enveloping your heart.

"Hm. What do we have here? Felix, I've told you before. Don't bring your playthings into the shop."

Felix turned around, taking you to the counter and setting you on the edge of it, still inside you. The new angle finally let you make eye contact with the man.

Oh, fuck. Almost immediately, you wished you hadn't looked at him. Yes, Felix was scary and slightly unnerving...but this man's aura was a whole new shade of intimidating.

You tried your best to break eye contact, but you couldn't. His stare was mesmerizing, and you almost drooled.

A sharp thrust from Felix snapped you out of your haze.

"She isn't a plaything. She's been coming here for the past week...keeping me company. It gets lonely here when you leave on your little trips, you know."

Minho frowned as he set down the mysterious looking packages he'd been holding, leaning on the heavy oak table. His eyes fell on the open book. He lazily regarded the pages, sighing.

Despite his indifferent expression, when he spoke, his tone was menacing.

"Have you been showing this girl the texts? Felix, you know we're not supposed to fraternize with the mortals. I've let you copulate with some of them, but I've told you time and time again...magic and elements of the otherwordly realm are far too complex for their puny brains to comprehend."

Felix sighed, turning slightly to face his brother but not slowing down. He kept thrusting into you, a hand grasping your breast and fingers gliding over your nipple as he spoke.

"That's just it! This human here is different from the others. For one, once she got over her initial shock and surprise, she even started reading the rituals herself and helping me out around the shop! In fact, that's what we're doing right now, enacting the Interfectorem Inimicus Ritual. She has a silly little rival she wants to get rid of."

Minho sighed, his eyes coming up to meet yours again. You looked away meekly, making a small smirk appear on his features.

Cute.

He rarely found mortals attractive...but this one right here might have to be an exception. Besides, if what Felix said was true, she was special. Maybe she wasn't even a mortal after all...

Minho needed to know if that was true. And there was only one way to find out.

He stalked over calmly, tapping Felix's shoulder.

"Give her to me."

"What?!" Felix's look of confusion mirrored yours.

"You heard me." His gaze drifted slowly to you, a finger sneaking out to trace your jawline. You unknowingly leaned into his touch, shivering at the feeling of his cold fingers.

"Hmm now, kitten...why exactly were you snooping about in the sacred texts?" His gaze was stern as he locked your eyes with his.

"I wasn't s-snooping-"

"Did Lixie here give you permission?"

"I, well...no..." You hated the way his intense stare was making you blurt out the truth, cheeks flushed. "I was just curious, that's all. So I read one of the b-books when he wasn't looking."

"Curious." Minho let go of your chin, chuckling. "Haven't you heard? Curiosity killed the cat." His eyes turned darker. "Although when it comes to this kitty, it might just be something else that leads to her demise..."

You swallowed, a fresh wave of arousal shooting through you as Minho smiled, saccharine sweet.

He glared at Felix, making him let go of you reluctantly.

"I'm going to fuck you now, kitten. Would you like that?"

You looked up at him. There was just something about him...his intensity, his demeanor...combined with his sharp beauty...he had you whiny and needy, keening in just seconds.

"Yes, Master, want you...want you so bad!" You mewled, just as Felix pulled out of you.

"Good girl."

In seconds, he gathered you in his arms, taking you over to the burgundy sofa in the corner of the room. "Now, let's do this ritual the right way, shall we? Felix, light some candles."

"Listen, brother, I really don't think this is a good idea and-"

"Do as I say."

Felix sighed, nodding as he went to gather some candles from the shelf. As he lit each one, his heart shuddered.

The two of them knew something you didn't.

Felix and Minho shared a demonic father, but had different mothers. Felix's mother happened to be human, while Minho's definitely wasn't. It was why Felix was able to have intercourse with humans without rendering them completely insane.

Minho, on the other hand...didn't possess even an ounce of humanity. He was draconian, otherworldly...

Felix glanced back, sadness taking over his features as he watched you, entranced as you stared at him.

He was worried you wouldn't last the night.

Minho leaned down, inhaling. He loved the way the human interacted to his touches, however featherlight they may be. He ran the tip of his fingers over your chin, down between your breasts. His fingers continued their descent until they reached your navel, his lust growing as he dipped his finger in, prompting a soft whimper from you. He fingered your navel gently for a few seconds, before he went even lower...finally reaching your clit.

If you were indeed human, you wouldn't be able to handle him or his cock. If you weren't, though?

The implications of it drove Minho giddy with excitement. He'd never had the pleasure of playing with someone as responsive and adorable as you were. Maybe you could even be his queen when he ascends his father's throne...

He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. First, he had to make sure of your origins. Then, he'd let himself daydream.

His fingers slowly pushed into your already dripping pussy, an appreciative groan leaving his lips as your soaking walls hugged his digits tightly.

Felix finished with the candles, his own erection growing impossibly harder as the lewd noises your pussy was making filled the room.

He turned, making his way to the sofa and glaring at his brother. He already harbored quite a bit of resentment for the older man, and this only served to deepen his hatred. Why did he have to steal away everything that was his?

Minho pulled his fingers out with a pop, sucking on his digits as he looked over at Felix. Your eyes opened halfway, registering Minho's naked form with some surprise. When did he remove his clothes? Then again, you knew the two men in the room didn't obey the same worldly rules you did.

Minho's eyes drifted down to Felix's erection, tutting under his breath.

"You know what...you can use her mouth, if you like."

Felix grumbled. It was better than nothing, but then again...He didn't want his brother to fuck you at all. Till now, you'd proven to be different from the usual human...most mortals couldn't even see their shop. However, he still felt that slight unease that came with not wanting to see you hurt. He'd only known you for a week but...deep inside, he didn't want to lose you.

Felix led his cock to your lips, eyes searching your lidded ones for discomfort. When he found none, he slid his length past your throat slowly, making you moan.

Minho's thick tip was rubbing at your folds. You could only feel the sensation of his head dragging up and down your slit...but it was more than enough for you to realize that he was bigger than everyone you'd ever had sex with.

When he finally pushed into you, you saw stars in your eyes. The pleasure was overwhelming...so sudden and potent that you screamed, Felix's eyes widening in concern as he pulled out.

"Are you okay?

"Y-yeah! For fuck's sake, it feels so gooooooood-" You choked out, clenching tightly around Minho's huge cock, his thrusts unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. It was almost satanic, the way he plunged into you repeatedly, stretching you out to your absolute limit.

Minho gritted his teeth as he gripped your waist tightly, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Fuck...ironic, but your pussy is heavenly, kitten..."

He moved you up and down his shaft, the feeling of your soft pussy opening up more and more with each stroke driving him crazed with lust. He'd never felt anything like this before.

"Felix, she's so fucking- shit....she's so fucking perfect-"

Felix frowned, sitting back as he watched. He couldn't help the envy from gripping his heart as he watched your pleasure-stricken face, your eyes rolling back in your head as Minho slid his girth deeper, hitting your sweet spot. He didn't want to stay any longer, but he couldn't help it. He really didn't want to leave you alone with his brother.

Minho drove into you faster as he felt his orgasm approaching, spurred on by the way you clenched tightly around him, clearly near your end as well.

"Kitten? 'M going to cum...going to fill your little pussy up..."

You whined, arching your back. "Can I cum, Master?"

He shook his head, growling as he rubbed your clit. "You'll cum when I tell you to."

Minho turned to the side as he kept abusing your pussy, his eyes landing on Felix...chuckling at his hand wrapped around his cock.

"Couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Felix let out a moan as he continued jerking himself off, standing up. He didn't care anymore...you looked so perfect like this, completely naked and at their mercy, mouth wide open and ready for him to use.

He came closer and shoved his cock down your throat roughly, not giving you time to adjust as he started fucking into you, his high close. You choked, caught off guard, but quickly got over it. Determined to be a good girl for them, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked on Felix's cock desperately, even as you tried to stave off your orgasm.

His length twitched in your mouth, and before you knew it, you felt warm cum spurting down your throat. Felix groaned, pulling out slowly.

"Felix, now. Get my blade and the book."

"Wait, what?"

"She's the one. I can tell. Quick. We need to get her blood at the exact time she hits her high, or I won't be able to complete my ritual."

"Wait- no! This is Y/n's ritual, the one for her rival. It's lower magic. The one you want to do...Come on, brother! You have to think before making a decision like this, you can't just make her your bride...we have to get Y/n's permission, too-"

Minho growled, his eyes flashing red as he glared at Felix. "I'm not performing a wedding ritual or anything, brother. I'm simply preserving her essence-"

Felix shook his head. His heart was thudding- he'd figured it out too, just like his brother had. You weren't mortal. You were special...and that meant Minho wanted to find out what exactly you were.

He felt sick as he thought of you getting married to his brother. No. You belonged here on Earth, with your family and your friends-

With him.

Before he could react, Minho's hand had materialized the exact knife he wanted.

Encrusted with rubies and made of demonic steel, the blade was far sharper than the one Felix had been teasing you with before.

Minho let go of your waist to grab your hand, bringing it up to his face. His hips continued their assault, making you whine and whimper.

Half the things they said were making no sense, and you were scared and yet...aroused, at the same time. You didn't know what was going on, but you wanted to listen to the man above you. You wanted to do everything he said, wanted to be his little pet...wanted to be his. Your brain felt like it was slowly getting rid of all rationality, the feeling of his cock making you whine louder.

"Kitten...I'm going to make a tiny little cut, right here on your finger. Is that okay?"

You nodded desperately, and Minho smiled at you in approval.

"Cum."

You finally let go, the pleasure washing over you in a tidal wave as you shook, convulsing with electricity as Minho drove the blade into the tip of your finger just enough to let out a few drops of blood.

Felix reluctantly conjured up an empty potion vial, capturing the drop with ease.

Minho lifted your finger to his mouth, sucking on the digit and running his tongue over the wound repeatedly. The metallic taste of your blood was the final push he needed to cum, thrusting deeper as he spilled himself into you.

When he let go of your finger, all the pain had disappeared. You noticed your finger was healed...the skin just as clean and soft as it was before.

You whined as he pulled out, conjuring another vial to gather some of your mixed fluids that was leaking out from between your thighs. He yawned as he handed it to Felix, who corked it with a frown on his face, setting it next to the vial with your blood in it. He knew what Minho wanted to do...he wanted to perform a ritual with the vials, wanted to make sure you were the one for him. It wasn't a wedding ritual by any means...but it was a pre-requisite, and the thought saddened Felix. Maybe his feelings for you were deeper than he'd thought.

Slowly, Minho gathered you into his arms, patting your hair gently and kissing your forehead.

"You were a good kitten, Y/n. How are you feeling?"

"I'm f-feeling okay..."

Minho made a face of delight at Felix. "She can still talk and formulate sentences!" He mouthed, prompting a half-hearted smile from his brother.

"D'you want to cuddle?"

You pouted. "Mmhmm! But..I want Lix to come cuddle too."

Felix looked up at that, his eyes widening.

You still wanted him?

Minho met his eyes, giving him a small smile. "Sure, baby. Lix can come cuddle as well."

You grinned, looking over at Felix and making grabby hands. Giggling, the boy quickly dropped onto the couch, wrapping his arms around your torso and humming in content.

"You know..I don't mind sharing her." Minho whispered, his fingers still stroking your hair. "Really?" Felix asked, looking down at you.

"If she wants to be shared, that is."

"I don't mind!" You chirped. "Life is boring here, anyway. Where did you guys say you lived again?"

The two men shared a look.

Minho sighed as he stroked your hair. "I can't wait to introduce you to our dad."

"Your dad?"

"Yep! Don't worry, he's nice. And I think he'd like you."

You frowned slowly as you remembered something Felix had told you. Snippets of their conversation flashed through your brain as your stomach filled with something akin to dread and anticipation.

"Who did you say your dad was, again?"

"Oh, what? Ah, that doesn't really matter. He's just the king of the Underworld."

[xsarcasticwriterx]

Young God-Part 1

Summary: Your power isn't even a power its simply words. You can understand people, get into their head and know them better than anyone all willingly on their end. This made you useful to the avengers when villains came and you could understand and fix them. When this is asked to be done to loki you cant help but fall for the god the more you get to know him.

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warning: Swearing, Loki being loki,angst

Notes: Ok lemme just start of saying loki isn't going to be...nice in the beginning of this i got the idea off of joker and harley quinn's relationship and slightly silence of the lambs so do with that what you will now i adore loki so he won't be a dick the whole time just yea someone getting into loki's head? he isn't too chill with that.

You walked down the stairs leading to the dungeon where the god was locked away ready for you to speak to. you heard the mocking laughs and sarcastic remarks made as you passed the cells.” “hey mortal lemme get a taste” he said thrust to you. you flipped him off not looking at him and passing on by. seeing the god laying on the couch reading a book you walked through the boundaries placed stepping before him. Odin had given you a pill, said it would allow you past the wall of an hour and only you. “hello” he said reading his book still. “apologies for my fellow inmates they can be quiet rude” he said with a small smirk.

“ironic coming from a man with the nickname silver tongue” you said sitting down on a chair in front of him. he placed down his book “oh doll there's more to that nickname” he said with a wink. you simply rolled your eyes in response. you had been told loki was like this. “anyways why are you here” he asked sitting up turning to you “did odin send you to make sure im behaving?” he asked with a snarky tone

You made a mental note of his hatred for odin, though from your interactions with the man you slightly understood that. “i'm here to speak to you” is all you said. loki scoffed “you doll are a horrible liar” he said with a smirk. He stood up and walked around you almost scanning you. “what's the real reason your here?” he asked behind you. “truly i am here to talk to you” you repeated with a straight face and shrug. “then talk” he said bending down right in front of your face. his breath ghosting over your face and his long wavy hair falling in his face. “your a god you live for years on end tell me loki, how old are you?” you asked. loki gave a smile before standing “my age? that's what you came for?” he huffed. “ill answer your questions if you answer mine” he said in return

you turned around facing him “i don't answer questions” you said with a shrug “oh come on doctor i know your other patients didn't just comply with your questioning” he said with a smirk. he was always smiling or smirking, never a true smile something to show planning, no not planning, anger? no not anger. hurt? yes thats it hes hurt and hides it with his devilish smile. to throw you off to push you away. make you fear him over wanting to know him.

Now the new question was how did he know you were a doctor. well you may not be an official doctor but you were one of sorts. You had been in college to get a phycology degree until fury swept you up making you work for him. you tilted your head alarming the god you were lost on his accusation. “oh dear as you said i am a god you don't think i could fall for your tricks and lies like the others did you?” he asked walking to you “doll only i make the tricks here” he said holding your jaw. “now we play by my rules” he said with another smile. “stop” you said. his smile widened “stop smiling” you said. you saw a hint of confusion wash over before it was erased with another smirk “why doll?” he asked. “because its a lie” you said. loki's face became serious “you talk of lies yet you wouldn't tell me why your here” he said walking around the room.

“Fine i'm here to evaluate you” you said simply “now will you answer my questions?” you asked. “I have been just not the ones you want the answer to.” he replied. “agree to my terms and ill be more than willing to answer you” he said with a sarcastic smile “i ask the questions not you” you replied. he shrugged laying back down reading his book again. you only had an hour with him so you had no choice but to comply with his rules or you'll get nowhere but you also didn't want the god to think he could just boss you around and throw a fit.

you shrugged picking up your bag walking out of the room. “1,054″ you said blankly. you turned confused “my age” he said still reading. you nodded walking back in “one question” you said sitting down. he smirked still looking at the book but not reading it “well start simple. name?” he asked. “y/n” you replied. “y/n....mmm now y/n why are you here?” he asked sitting up. “to evalu-” you started to say before he cut you off “why are you here?” he asked “were not doing this loki i said one question” you said standing back up. your hour was almost over. “what happened doctor don't like a taste of your own medicine?” he asked with a dark smile. “why do you do that? smile so much?” you asked. “you tell me you said it was a lie which means you've made your own deductions of it so tell me doc why do i smile so much?” he asked tilting his head.

“to make people uncomfortable. they see you smile this mischievous smile a smile that they expect from the god of mischief. you become what people expect of you so they stay away now why you push people you don't know away i'm not quiet sure on but i assume it has something to do with your spite for odin” you said simply. loki gave a wide smile standing up “well well well doc, you are utterly” he said behind you getting close to your ear “wrong” he said simply straightening backup. “now you well i do have so many things to say about you” he said moving in front of you. “you evaluate people thinking you know everything about them so much more than they know themself, from body language to words to the crime they commited. but i my dear am simply a king who deserved a throne and would fight for it” he said sitting back down “hours up doll better leave before your trapped in here” he said looking at you with another smile. 

Walking back up you felt unnerved. the god had a weird aura to him like he could read your mind. granted he may actually be able to in which case you need to be more careful about such things. you walked to your room feeling empty and drained. you fell back on the bed rubbing your face. the odinsons had given you your own quarters while you stayed there. there was  knock on the door and you groaned “its open” you replied and the door opened revealing yet another god, a kinder one. Thor walked over sitting next to you “how was loki?” he asked. “loki was....exactly how yall described him” you sighed. thor griminced he hoped his brother would behave “did you get anything out of him?” he asked. “just his age which is useless it was more a test to see if he'd comply with me. think he got more out of me than i of him” you said looking up at thor. 

“give him time. my brother can be...difficult but your a legend at this so you should do well it may take longer than usual but you'll get it” thor said cheerfully. you gave a small smile. you wanted to believe that you truly did but honestly you weren't sure. “loki sure is a strange guy” you said sitting up “Well he's not a guy hes a god such as i and he was raised by my mother” he said to you.

“get some rest i bet you'll do much better tomorrow” he said with a smile walking out. you sighed and changed, laying bed you felt sleep take over. 

you stood in a black room seeing your parents smiling faces “mom? dad? you said with a smile. you started to run to them before blood dripped from there eyes and they slowly faded away. you stepped back feeling empty once again. you heard a chuckle and turned seeing loki laugh and roll his eyes before vanishing too

You awoke with a small scream and your heart racing. you were drenched in sweat and tears streamed down your face. once you calmed you growled launching up from bed and walking down to the dungeon storming past the assholes shouting crude things at you. you stood at loki's cell banging on the wall “hey asshole” you said blatantly. “well hello to you too doll isnt this a shocker” he said with another smile god how you wanted to slap that smile off his face “shut up” you said. loki sat up looking at you “well what can i do for you?” he asked. “your not supposed to have you powers in here” you said with a stern face

loki tilted his head in mock confusion “why i don't” he said voice dripping in sarcastic hurt as if offended by such accusations. “don't lie you bastard! You were in my head i know it you know it so let's just both know it” you yelled at him. His smile widened “ok darling but see i do have one question left unanswered. how did your parents die?” he asked stepping to the glass. “they didn't it was simply a nightmare” you groaned. 

“no no see people who dream of the death unprompted feel pain,sadness,fear they try to stop it you well you felt nothing you just...stood there” he said looking down at you. “so how was it they died?” he asked. “if you can get in my head then you sure as shit know” you said looking down at the floor. you really did not want to speak of it.

“of course i do doll but i want to hear you say it” he said leaning on the glass. “i will not play into your game” you said storming off “you still hear it dont you? their screams” he said. “i do” he said after

you turned “pardon?” you asked walking back to him. “have a nice night darling” he said smiling walking back to his couch. “but you said-” you were cut off by the sounds of footsteps “oi you are not to be down here madam” the man said walking to you “oh yes sorry i must have sleep walked” you replied walking upstairs back to your bed.

laying down your head felt as if it was spinning. This was going to be an interesting roller coaster wasn't it.

[mythgirlimagines]

It’s time for a brand new talentswap for this Tuesday! She may not like her title, but here she is: this is Myth, the Former Ultimate Clairvoyant!

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BACKSTORY

Myth was, for some reason, born with future-predicting powers, with the first incident being when she was 5, and watching a sports team with her family. Her elder sisters jokingly asked her who would win, and Myth confidently spouted out her choice, which turned out later to be right, much to the shock of Myth’s family. Thinking it was just a fluke, Myth’s parents asked her for the lottery numbers, which turned out to also be correct. And with the eventual discovery of her psychic powers, came loads and loads of popularity at her school. Unfortunately, this popularity was shallow at best, with most people interacting with her purely to get a taste of her psychic powers. This led to Myth becoming an antisocial loner, who shows a great dislike of her powers and eventual Ultimate, wanting to be known for her artistic merits and become the Ultimate Watercolor Artist or Ultimate Novelist. The only reason she even became a chaperone for the Kibo-Con trip is her secret soft spot for children. 

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Affluent Progeny

Despite being rough, tough and informal in a majority of situations, Wyre is infamous for their business acumen and being the prime candidate amongst their family to succeed their oil magnate parents, who are the head of the PALEO oil company. Myth and Wyre both met in school, trying to flee from their respective fanclubs and eventually bonded over their shared trust issues regarding friends due to their shared status of being different. Wyre regularly scares off people who wish to use Myth, and Myth is forever thankful for that. If only Wyre could stop teasing Myth about her secret soft spots, that Myth is still in denial having.

Outfit: A simple tan and white suit, neatly combed hair and unbroken glasses.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Swimmer

Known worldwide for her fast speeds in the water, Scar is also known for her odd behavior when in interviews, often referring to herself as “Charybdis Incarnate”, and claiming that one day, she will reclaim her undersea throne and rule the bottom of the ocean once again. When Myth first saw Scar spouting nonsense about how the two have similar magical auras, she wanted nothing to do with the chuuni-swimmer. But when Scar realized that Myth has a very negative opinion of her own magic powers, Scar tries to dial back the facade. From there, Myth learned that Scar is almost like a mom, when she drops the “Charybdis Incarnate” act.

Outfit: Hair in a ponytail, a long black-to-purple sundress, a blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders, tan sandals. Fusion Anon, Ultimate Martial Artist

As the eldest child of two martial arts masters, it would only make sense that Fusion would want to continue their legacy, for he won competition after competition with his disciplined attitude and physical strength. Despite his threatening height and talent, which unnerved the otherwise ice-cold Myth, Fusion is actually really friendly and cheerful, and happy to educate others on different modes of martial arts. Because of Fusion’s martial arts seminars, Myth now has a new way to vent her sorrows. Fusion doesn’t like Myth’s negative view of her talent, and threatens to physically fight her, if she keeps talking bad about herself.

Outfit: A red Nippon Ichi headband, an open blue hoodie with nothing underneath and the sleeves ripped off, showing off his muscular build, red fingerless gloves, black pants, white socks, and brown sandals.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Soldier

Having been born in a wartorn territory, Fusion II was basically groomed to be the perfect child soldier, and help secure wins for her country. A past like that would change anybody for the worse, and Fusion II attempts to combat her trauma with sarcasm and jokes. Myth and Fusion II quickly bonded over their similar personalities and hatred for their talents, and just love to snark at people in the background. But as they learn more and more about each other, they soon became each other’s shoulders to cry on, as they vent to each other about their less-than-stellar backgrounds, and secretly confide in each other’s secret soft spots.

Outfit: Black sunglasses that hide her eyes, a grey bullet-proof vest over a blue long-sleeved shirt, a long blue skirt that hides her weapons, dark grey combat boots.

Just Anon, Ultimate Fashionista

Having strict parents who groomed him to be a perfect little doll who would make their family look good, Janon wants nothing to do with the constant photo ops, constricting outfits, and people who want to date him purely for his looks, and adopted a cynical and foul-mouthed personality to drive others away. Just like with Fusion II, Myth bonded very easily with Janon, thanks to their similar temperaments and backstories leading to said temperaments. But they also know about each other’s secret soft spot for kids, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to adopt the Jr. Ultimates, and care for and protect them.

Outfit: Literally what he wears under his bunny hoodie.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Novelist

Famous for writing only the greatest bestsellers in the romantic drama genre, such as “Senryuu of the Stars” and “Spectacular Supernova”, Sparkle’s novels are loved by practically all demographics, but they are especially loved by a certain tsundere clairvoyant. Myth regularly tries to deny being a massive fan around her idol, but Sparkle saw right through her, and gave her a sparkly autograph, causing Myth’s happiness to skyrocket, not that she would ever show it, for she has a reputation to keep up. Myth certainly didn’t expect her hero in writing to be so dramatic and eccentric, but she isn’t complaining for once. 

Outfit: Same outfit from the original but with her hairbun being held in place by a feather quill, and a sweater vest replacing her hoodie. Anon Egg, Former Ultimate Fanfiction Author, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Moral Compass

Always the more diligent and obedient twin compared to Egg, who indulges themselves in anime, manga, and video games, Wet Sock joined the public morals commitee at their school and helped decrease the number of delinquents at their school into the single digits, thanks to their expertice in intimidation, thanks to being skilled at being cursed. Egg got their claim to fame by writing only the most cursed crack fics that they can, that no reader can deny are very well-written, despite being so cursed. Myth’s mind told her  to prepare herself for a stay with double the curses, and now, Myth knows exactly what her mind means. 

Outfits: Matching black gakurans, with Egg’s being sloppier than Wet Sock’s.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Detective

Ever since Curious was little, they have always been asked by their classmates to solve mysteries all around their school, and by the time they reached their middle school years, they had a fully-fledged and self-run detective agency which boasts a 99% success rate. When Myth first met Curious, she was half fawning over Curious, and half expecting Curious to pull a Darla Dimple and exploit her clairvoyance. But luckily for Myth, Curious turned out to be one of the most obedient and polite children that she ever met, which only served to endear Myth even more. And that’s not even getting into the bonding over people taking advantage of them.

Outfit: Same outfit from the original, but with a Sherlock Holmes-esque hat and cape.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Baseball Player

Commonly regarded as both the all star and the powerhouse of his team, Nerd is an expert at both throwing the ball and catching the ball. Nerd‘s natural strength, as well as his violent and fiery attitude makes him the perfect athlete. Too bad “teamwork” and “accidents happen” just aren’t words in his vocabulary, for he wishes to carry the team all by himself and burns up anybody who costs him a win. Both the clairvoyant and the baseball player have harrowingly massive crushes on each other, but they are both way too emotionally constipated and tsundere to admit their feelings, much to the dismay of everybody else. 

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Lucky Student

The lucky winner of Hope’s Peak lottery system, Eldritch is perhaps the most unlucky person in the world, despite what his talent would suggest. Disastrous and highly improbable events always happen to him, which gave him a paranoid and pessimistic view of the world. He fears approaching others, for the terrible luck he has might rub off on them. Myth feels a certain kinship with Eldritch, for they both have oddly supernatural talents that cause them pain and strife, despite Eldritch being too scared to interact with her. Myth kind of views Eldritch like the Jr. Ultimates, thanks to his childish build, and yearns to dots on him.

Outfit: A green hoodie patterned with clovers, black and white shorts, white socks, red and black sneakers, bandages and stitches all over his body.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Programmer

Despite what her hyperactive and childish nature would suggest, Dream is an expert at a more sedentary and intellectual pastime: computer programming. She is currently working to program technology that could help with development of prothetic limbs and artificial organs. One of the few times that Myth actually likes her future sight is when it warns her that Dream and Iris are off making their usual trouble, to which she hires the Brain Cells to save them. While Myth regularly gets irked at Dream’s energetic and childish nature, her soft spot for children just takes over, and she just can’t say mad at Dream forever.

Outfit: Pixellated pink hairpins, pink cat hoodie with grey stripes on the sleeves, grey shorts, tall white socks and pink slippers.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Biker Gang Leader

Dedicated to spreading happiness all over the world, The Smile Spreaders is a large benevolent biker gang, led by none other than the clumsy and cheery Iris Anon, and believe the members when they say that Iris is great at her job, for she knows just what to say to motivate her group, and she helps formulate all of the smile-spreading plans. Upon hearing about Myth’s talent, Myth was bombarded by praise from Iris, who finds her talent awesome, much to Myth’s confusion and irritation. Iris tried to indoctrinate Myth into her group, but Myth turns down every time. Myth uses her clairvoyance to prevent Iris and her cronies from hurting themselves though.

Outfit: Messier braids and black makeup, a black leather jacket with a smiley face on the back over a white turtleneck, spiked wristbands, a ripped-up black skirt, tall black boots with white and spiked soles.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Idol

As the lead vocalist of the gothic idol group, Ultraviolet, Purple is famed for her soft yet impactful voice. But it seems that Purple’s personality does a complete 180 when off of the stage, becoming very timid and skittish, hiding behind anything bigger than her (usually Fusion, her recently-employed bodyguard). Myth loves listening to Ultraviolet’s music, but was surprised to find out that this timid and skittish little girl is Ultraviolet’s vocalist. Probably not helping interactions between Myth and Purple, isthe fact that Purple’s vocabulary consists primarily of very old-fashioned and archaic terms, requiring Fusion to translate for her.

Outfit: A black bow in her hair, a black and purple dress, black gloves and stockings, light purple heels.  This series would center on a cynical and icy clairvoyant getting the true friends and actual love that she deserves.

——————————————————-

PERSONALITY

Clairvoyant!Myth is a perpentually grouchy and stone-cold girl. Clairvoyant!Myth has a very low opinion of her talent, viewing it as supernatural nonsense, and wants to be known for her other merits. Because people were constantly taking advantage of her clairvoyancy, Myth’s soft and friendly heart hardened and froze over, and now shuts herself out, in fear people would try to use her again. So she is basically an emo tsundere, with a secret soft spot for both children and people who see her as something apart from a psychic genius. Myth’s clairvoyance also makes her aware of her friends are in danger, giving her something of a mom sense.

——————————————————-

APPEARANCE

Clairvoyant!Myth has her hair dyed a variety of colors, and on her head, Clairvoyant!Myth wears a grey beanie, that conceals a long and squiggly ahoge. Clairvoyant!Myth also wears a green parka over a galaxy themed dress and grey boots on her feet. 

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I hope you like this talentswap! Let me know what you think of it, in your reblogs!

-Fusion Anon

[septic-dr-schneep]

JSE Fanfiction - In Time of Need (Part 19: Remission)

Summary: Now that he knows Jackieboy is down for the count and the responsibility to protect the other Egos has fallen to him, there are things that Marvin needs to address -- specifically, what happened between him and Schneep.

Marvin had tried every possible form of examination. Prying off his mask with a frustrated hiss, he tossed it onto his cluttered desk, eyes narrowed at the doll before him. Every time he doused it with magic, it flailed about, sizzling and burning; it should have been nothing but ashes by now.

Eventually, however, the fire shrank and died away without leaving a single scorch mark on his desk or the doll. In fact, it looked as if it’d been completely untouched all this time. Nothing he had done over the past few hours made any conceivable dent in it; there wasn’t a single string out of place.

“What is this even supposed to be? What does it mean?” he growled to no one in particular, picking up the perturbing plaything and glaring more deeply into its wide, unnerving stitched eyes.

It was entirely identical to him in every way: the long-sleeve blue shirt rolled up to his elbows, the black jeans, the cape, the mask…Even the shade of thread used for its eyes was unique, quite unlike than that of the Jameson doll that had been tossed nearby after an hour or so of examining it with no success—not that he’d found any better success with his own. He leaned over, snatching the little Jameson up a second time and weighing the pair for a side-by-side comparison.

Entirely identical. Marvin’s eyes were darker, glaucous blue. When Jameson made a point of letting his sepia aura recede and color bled into his skin, hair and clothing, it could be seen that the younger Ego’s eyes were quite light, more powder-gray than blue, and the dolls had been stitched accordingly.

If Marvin had to give Anti credit for anything, it was his attention to detail, but the thought that the Defect had ever managed to get close enough to memorize their eye colors made his stomach turn. Distinctly uncomfortable, he promptly set the Jameson doll back in its former place and made a mental reminder not to pick it up again unless absolutely necessary.

His own doll’s thin, loosely tied black cape flapped haphazardly about as he waved it back and forth, unable to think of anything else to do with it. It was unnaturally heavy in his hand, the weave of each piece of yarn dense and tight. It was made to be sturdy, but no natural yarn would be able to stand up to his magic.

Perhaps this was no natural yarn. He couldn’t expect it to be, honestly. Who knew what Anti could have done to it? It was just as cursed as its weaver.

As soon as he and Signe had walked into his room and found the doll waiting for him, resting in the dead center of his pillow, Marvin had been paralyzed, simultaneously dread and fury rooting him to the spot.

Signe had moved ahead of him toward the bed, picking up the doll and asking him uncertainly where it had come from, and Marvin hadn’t been able to respond, stumbling back to lean against the wall as he strained his magic just that much more to perform a locator spell.

It wasn’t a spell he used often, given how much it required of him, but he had needed to see if there were still any traces of Anti’s essence in his room. To his frustration, he couldn’t muster enough energy or magic to tell after the strength he’d spent opening the portal for Jameson. He hadn’t fully recharged and draining himself for that last push had been the final straw for his body. His vision had become a stomach-churning tilt-a-whirl and he knew he was about to make a repeat performance of the spectacular faint he’d performed in Schneep’s lab. He couldn’t—He had to—

He’d very nearly crashed into Signe as he slumped forward, but somehow he managed to keep his feet underneath him long enough to stagger past her and fall toward the bed. He was out cold before he connected and the sleep that enveloped him was dreamless.

When he’d awoken, he was groggy and sore, cursing himself for sleeping on his stomach and creating a throbbing crick in his neck, but he’d felt a little more like himself. While he shook off sleep, he’d shifted limp fingers to get the blood flow back to them, satisfied to see that sparks danced around their tips without too much of a delay. Now that he’d gotten some decent rest, his magic was recovering.

His next bleary glance, aimed at the clock nearby, had told him he’d just slept for twelve hours undisturbed. That was less of a surprise than it should have been, given the household he lived in; more often than not he would have one of the others knocking on his door to wake him for morning cartoons before the workday and for a moment or two, he’d forgotten the events of the day before. When memory sank in, he’d stilled, breathing deeply and taking in the faded scent of cleanser lingering in his sheets as he ran through a mental checklist.

Chase was still at the hospital, recovering from the surgery.

Jameson was still in the ABOP. He had a cot there; hopefully he had slept alright.

Signe had probably opted to stay out of his room because she thought he needed the rest.

It wasn’t any wonder that no one had come to wake him. In fact, he’d genuinely considered closing his eyes and sleeping for a while longer, but it was then that he’d also remembered the doll. He’d forced himself to rise so he could do some research.

Since then, after cramming down two pieces of toast to satisfy Signe’s warnings against working on an empty stomach, he’d been seated here in his workroom, poring over his books for some spell that could unravel this hideous little doll. From the looks of it, there was nothing special keeping it together. It didn’t even seem to serve any magical purpose. Why was it here? Why had Anti put it here and why had he chosen now to do so?

As the doll’s cape clumsily started tangling around his fingers, he broke out of his thoughts, dropping it with a small noise of disgust and then sighing deeply, leaning his elbows on the desk and massaging his temples.

He really shouldn’t be working at all, given that the stitches in his chest were protesting every movement. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken pain medication either, but there were so many other things he needed to do. He needed to check on the Jack and Schneeplestein dolls that had been discovered, he needed to fetch Jameson from the ABOP and check on Sam in the process, he needed to eat something more than that toast, call Chase at the hospital to get an update on how he was feeling…

How on earth did Jackieboy cope with all of this responsibility? Why had Jack made him the next one in line to have that power put on his shoulders when Jackieboy wasn’t there to handle it? Would that it were someone else…

No. It would be an utter disaster. Marvin was molded for this purpose and he was meant to be exactly where he was. If any of the others were to be in his place, they would never be able to stand up under the weight. It would always be his responsibility, even if he didn’t like it. Jackieboy never said a bad word about them when they leaned on him for support, so what right did Marvin have to do so?

Marvin missed Jackieboy more than he could possibly say. He had never been allowed to see him since he’d learned that he was in the coma; police were stationed at both his old room and the room he’d been transferred to, pending the investigation of the nurse’s death. They didn’t know whether or not he was still a target and the family was always the first group of suspects. Worse, Marvin couldn’t even tell them that it was already too late, that the attacker had gotten exactly what he wanted long before they’d arrived.

Come to think of it, he had never even seen Jackieboy since he’d left home. Jackieboy had barely bothered to say goodbye. Now he wasn’t even sure he wanted to, given what he knew would be waiting for him. His next breath was shakier than it should have been, but he needed to keep it together. He was leader. A leader maintained his composure for the sake of the others, no matter the toll it took on him emotionally. A leader—

“Marvin…? If…If I say you’re right, will you stop hating me?”

His train of thought ground to a stop at that voice. Dejectedly Marvin lifted his head, glancing over his shoulder at the doctor who stood in the doorway. He was already crying, he noted, guilt curling up tightly in his stomach. That wasn’t a good sign.

A leader dealt with issues on the inside before trying to address anything else.

“I don’t hate you,” he muttered.

“You do, I know you do!” Schneep protested miserably, ducking his head as the tears raced to escape his wiping fingers. “I want to say whatever will make you stop being angry with me but I don’t know what it is! I want to take responsibility, like you say I should!” Slumping against the wall by the door, he blurted out, “It’s my fault. Is always my fault! I did this to us! I should never have left Jackie. I s-should have stopped him from leaving in first place! I failed him, I fail us, I fail you all the time and—”

“Stop, Schneep, don’t say that,” Marvin cut him off quietly, pushing away from his desk and spinning his chair around to face him. “You’re just gonna keep working yourself up and we both know it’s not true.”

“It is! I mean it! I do—!”

“But I didn’t. I shouldn’t have put that on you. I just…” Frustration and sadness winding into a tight knot in his chest, Marvin shook his head, throwing up his hands. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t come to us, why you didn’t tell us what had happened with Jackieboy! One of us could have gone to him while you were treating Jack and maybe we could’ve done something to save him!”

Another surge of anger roughened his tone as he tore his gaze away. “I’m just—I am sick of seeing them get hurt. Seeing both of them sacrifice so much for us and suffer for it—I hate it so much! I hate Anti so much for it that it scares me and when there’s any kind of chance that any of us can prevent it…We could’ve helped you, Schneep. Why did you try to take it all on yourself again?”

“Because that’s my job!”

The magician’s mouth opened at that, nothing less than astonished at how Schneep said that without any hesitation, as if it was something that had been established and understood since he was born. Marvin knew he valued independence over a lot of other things, but did he honestly believe that doing it without any help had been his job since he’d first walked through the front door, barely coherent in his English and greener than Jack’s hair?

Did he honestly think he was meant for that? Had they made him feel that way?

“Are you—are you kidding?” the magician sputtered when he remembered how to find words. “We’re supposed to be a family, aren’t we?! None of us can do it ourselves; that’s the whole point of us living together like this! That’s why Jack brought all of us together! We’re supposed to rely on each other! You weren’t made to handle anything like this yourself!”

“I know, I know! Is why I wanted to prove that I could! Nine months ago I fail with Jack and with Jackie I wanted to try again! I—I want to do something right for once on my own without needing help for the f-first time since Anti took me and instead I just make everything worse!” Unable to stand looking at Marvin anymore, Schneep hid his face in his hands, shoulders heaving, words muffled and broken between the sobs and his fingers. “I j-just wanted t-to be a good doctor!”

The pit of Marvin’s stomach sank at that and he levered himself to his feet, drifting across the room to put a tentative hand on his arm. “C’mon,” he murmured. “C’mon, doc, you’ve gotta breathe—” The rest of his words were forced back into his throat as the younger Ego flung himself at him, burying his face in his chest and drawing a startled grunt from him.

His shirt going damp within seconds, Marvin swallowed hard, gingerly looping his arms around him. The two of them weren’t in the habit of hugging; he’d forgotten what it felt like. It was strange, a little uncomfortable, but Schneep was too overcome to care like Marvin did. Usually Jackie was here whenever either of them needed comfort or reassurance…

Who knew how long it would be before they got a hug from him again? At that unwelcome thought, Marvin automatically tightened his grip and Schneep heaved a shuddering breath, apparently reading his mind.

“I k-killed them,” he whispered hoarsely, clutching at the older Ego’s shirt and lifting his head to stare at him with damp, bloodshot eyes. “I killed them, I killed them and they—”

“No,” Marvin stopped him immediately, shaking his head violently. “No, you didn’t. If they’re still breathing, they’re still alive, okay? Jack did even more than that, remember? He spoke and he opened his eyes! It’s like Chase said; we can still get through to him!”

“But Jackie…Jackie…”

“Whatever happens with him, we’ll take care of it. We’re going to protect him, okay?”

“I c-can’t protect anyone! Any time I t-try, I just make it worse. We can’t lose both of them, Marvin! I can’t do this anymore, I cannot lose them both, not like this! I just can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”

“Shh, shh-shh-shh…C’mon, you’ve gotta get ahold of yourself…” Marvin protested weakly as Schneep’s head fell against his chest again, his anguished mantra dissolving into incoherent whimpers. “Schneep, please, you’ve gotta…you…”

His own pleas were failing now as his throat tightened and Marvin was suddenly all too aware of the fact that he was buckling, losing the composure a proper leader was meant to keep. Stop it, stop, you’re just being ridiculous. This is stupid…Why are you even doing this right now? This isn’t about you; you’re meant to be comforting him, so just suck it up and…and…No, stop, please stop, don’t—

Too late. The tears were spilling like leaks from a sturdy pipe, the cracks growing too fast for him to patch them and allowing more and more to escape. He couldn’t keep up. One minute he was the comforter, the next he had dragged Schneep as close as he could possibly get him, shivering around him as if they were being frozen solid.

“M—Mm—?!” Schneep hiccupped frantically, unable to catch his breath as it was stifled in Marvin’s shirt, and the magician just shook more desperately, tightening his grip enough that he heard a small squeak of pain from the other against the curve of his throat. He wanted to be sorry for it, but he was too caught up in the tide of emotion that had been set loose.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out in grief-stricken stops and starts. “I—I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how we’re ever gonna get through this, Schneep, I just don’t know! Jackieboy’s the only one who stands a chance against Anti! He’s s-smarter and faster and stronger and kinder and if he was here, he c-could figure out what to do! I have nothing! An’ I snapped at you, I blamed you, an’ he never would’ve! He never would’ve turned on any of us! I don’t know how to be what I need to be to protect any of you until he wakes up!”

Schneep’s hyperventilating only worsened the longer his confession went on and something in Marvin sensed it, his next words failing to surface no matter how hard he tried to get them past the lump in his throat. Wordless cries came more easily.

After several rounds of tears that made their whole bodies ache, how long did they stand there, leaning on each other like two playing cards about to topple from the top of their house? Crying for so long had taken something out of him that he didn’t realize he could give. How many months had it taken for that to build up in him?

They were utterly spent, not to mention raw, pained, and soaked. Frankly it was disgusting, Marvin mused faintly, but he couldn’t muster any care. He just had to catch his breath, which seemed perfectly reasonable to Schneep. It didn’t look like he had any intention of pulling away from where he had tucked his face into Marvin’s shoulder.

That…That was okay. Right now, Marvin didn’t have any intention of letting him go.

[rainbowdragonlair]

I have way too many DBD characters. Killers, Survivors, Names, Perks, Home maps, and Transportation Items.

The Reaper/ Guardian of Rail Park/ Guardian of Crystal Waters Wildlife Preserve Perks: Birds of a Feather (Allows the player to more easily find where survivors are if wildlife is alerted. “The crows still speak to me.”), Trickster (Allows the player to hide while against a tree without a red light giving away where they are looking. “What? You thought I was just a set piece?”), White Stag (Allows the player to disguise themselves as one of the survivors in the match. Long cooldown time, terror radius remains intact. “I am neither doe nor stag. But some think I am.”). Outfit names: A Nice Night (Standard) (“What are you doing on these tracks?”); Here comes the Train (“Move you total mortal self-destructive fool!”); Failed Hunt (“Hunter? You are no the hunter, I am.”). Power: Fairy Lights (Turn into a small light and flicker about the map, flitting from tree to tree. Allows the player to quickly travel from one spot to another. Be careful, doing this costs a lot of energy.) Home map: The Haunted Birchwoods. Item to be sent there: Book of Fairytales (“A thick book containing the original telling of all the classic fairytales. Red stains can be seen on the back and front covers.”)

The Fallen/ Douglas Northesta Perks: One of You (Allows the player to set the progress farther back on sabotaged generators. “I was one of you once… I know how these things work.”), Thorough Search (Instead of kicking chests to scare a survivor out, the player will open the lid and look inside. “He found me though…cowering in a chest…Just like you are now.”), Fight or Flight (Grants the player the ability to quickly vault through windows and over fallen pallets instead of destroying them, only active during a chase. “You cannot outrun one of your own.”). Outfit names: Summer Picnic (Standard) (“It’s not very warm here.”); Memory Lane (“He gave me these. I like them.”); Little Trapper (“Now I look just like him!”). Power: Relaxing Bath Mixture (Years of being stressed and bored has lead The Fallen to develop this strange mixture of glittering sea foam; contains two-parts various bath salts, two-parts glittering bath soak, and five-parts body wash. Once thrown, the glass mason jar containing the mixture will burst, showering any survivors around it and causing the following effects: Impaired vision, reduced movement speed, reduced repair time.) Home Map: Howling Winds High. Item to be sent there: Old School Photo Album (“An old school photo album where almost every face on every page has been blacked out with sharpie marker. “Howling Winds High 45-46” can still be seen in bold and colorful letters on the front.”)

The Judge Perks: Ring around the Rosie (Enables one’s aura reading abilities; any kind of cue to a survivors location will now be accompanied by a directional key telling you which way the survivor ran. Ring around the rosie~, a pocket full of posies~, ashes, ashes, we all fall down~.”), A candle to light you to bed (Allows dull hex totems to be disguised as active hex totems. ““Oranges and lemons,” Say the bells of St. Clement's. “You owe me five farthings,” Say the bells of St. Martin's. “When will you pay me?” Say the bells at Old Bailey. “When I grow rich,” Say the bells at Shoreditch. “When will that be?” Say the bells of Stepney. “I do not know,” Says the great bell at Bow. Here comes a candle to light you to bed, and here comes a chopper to chop off your head! Chip chop chip chop the last man is dead!”), Catch a Tiger by the toe! (You become obsessed with one survivor; letting the survivor leave the trial grants bonus bloodpoints. Sacrificing or killing them will result in the regular amount of bloodpoints to be given. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go, Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.”). Power: Frenzied guillotine (She spins around, her weapon thrown out in front of her. Upon spinning around three times, she will spin three times in the opposite direction before slamming the head of her weapon down on the ground to steady herself. Applies the dying state to any survivor hit during the attack, but will cause a stun effect on the player.) Home Map: Smoke Mirror Kingdom. Item to be sent there: Night themed Keychain (“A Keychain made of a crescent moon charm and small glass bottle filled with black glitter and some rainbow star shaped glitter. The cork and screw connecting the bottle to the rest of the keychain both appear to have been crazy glued together.”)

The Collection (Lillie, Dan, Lindsey, Ayden, Dakota, Dexter) Perks: Forgotten Memory (Disrupts Aura reading abilities. “This place is…Familiar…”), Friend or Foe (You gain an obsession for one survivor, for each aggressive action taken towards the obsession you gain a token. For each token vaulting and destruction speed is increased at the cost of one token. A maximum of five tokens is allowed. “I’m not letting you get away this time!”) , Self-Control (Applies a bleed-out timer to the hit survivor. Will not slow down a survivor, but a blood trail left by the hit survivor will last longer and become more noticeable. “We only hurt when needed. We’re not monsters, after all.”). Power: Paranormal Panic (Due to your understanding of the human psyche, you are able to unnerve people just by being in the same area as them. Periodically, a “chase” will begin with the obsession. “It’s not them, it’s us…”). Home Map: Albtraum Home for the Criminally troubled. Item to be sent there: Therapy Doll (“A small hand-made doll that looks strangely familiar. Its creator and owner are both unknown, but at this point, they are probably as active as the abandoned doll.”)

Kimberly Perks: Prima Donna (Allows the player to wake up other players by raking their nails across the other’s face. “I may be prissy, but my nails can cut deeper than any weapon.”), Freakout (Allows the player to break free of the killer’s grasp/to kick the killer while on the hook, effectively stunning the killer. “Okay, so I may have lost my temper, but like, that’s not that bad. Harm was intended and I retaliated. So what if he ended up in the hospital? Not like he wasn’t warned!”), Not a Princess (Makes it easier to find uncommon or greater item in a chest. “Bitch, I’m the QUEEN!”).

Bryan Perks: Once a Convict (Allows the player to temporarily injure the killer once per match. “Even jail has rules. You know that right?”), Blackout (If the Killer is carrying a survivor and gets hit with a pallet by the player using this perk, the stun duration lasts moderately longer than normal. “Oh God…What…What happened? What did I do?!”), Cell Farm (Expands the area of view for the player. “I remember these letters. They had pigeons and pigs and cows on them…I always wanted a farm.”).

Chad Perks: Keg Stand (Allows the player to vault through windows and over pallets at running speed while walking or sneaking. “I’ve done more acrobatic shit while stoned and drunk out of my mind!”), Do or Die (Being thrown into a trial with familiar faces fills you with a sense of determination, increasing the speed at which altruistic actions are performed. “My coach would say it’s do or die time before each game. So I’m going to say the same thing. Except, he meant it in a sarcastic sense, and I’m being serious.”), 2nd Amendment (Allows the player to throw a rock to stun the killer twice per match. “I may not have a real gun, but rocks work just as well mother fuckers!”).

Arder Perks: Hija de la luna/Daughter of the Moon (Makes the player completely silent when not running at the cost of movement speed. “If I stay still, they won’t see me.”), Gato del Purgatorio/Cat of Purgatory (Allows the player to retaliate against the killer. Only if the player is carrying an item and the killer is carrying a survivor will this be able to activate. Once the killer is hit, the player will drop their item and gain increased movement speed to make a quick getaway. “You aren’t my owner.”), Rogar/Pray (Allows the player to sacrifice themselves while on the hook, so long as two generators are active and at least one survivor other than themselves remains unhooked. “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep, since I’ll die while awake, my life is forever yours to take.”)

Dr. William Albtraum III Perks: Mystery Rail (Disrupts the killer’s aura reading abilities, and will very rarely trigger a false notification for the killer. “You’ll never find me, unless I want you to find me!”), Dark Science (Decreases the healing, sabotaging, and repairing speed of all other survivor in visual range while increasing your own speed. “The most important person here is me, the rest of you should be thankful I’m even pretending to help you.”), Living Automatons (Upon a failed skill check, another survivor’s location will also be made visible to the killer as well as your own. “If I go down, you’re all coming with me!”).

[entomjinx]

Flaming

Prompt: I'm not jealous.

The winter winds of Magnolia were violent and frigid, but that didn't stop Gray from pulling off his shirt and throwing it who knows where. As per usual, he was pissed at the dragon slayer he called his best friend, and as per usual, it wasn't even Natsu's fault. Despite knowing this, he couldn't help the rage that boiled beneath his skin.

From where he sat in the guild, he couldn't hear what Natsu was talking about, but his face was slightly flushed as he spoke to Lisanna and Lucy, who were both smirking. They continued to talk for several more minutes, and Natsu's face got steadily brighter and brighter. Gray had nearly jumped up and challenged Natsu just to get him away from the girls, who had to be scheming something.

"They have to be scheming something." The thought hadn't come from nothing. Lisanna had been in love with the oblivious slayer as a child, and Lucy isn't exactly subtle with the way she throws herself at him. "Why can't they just back off?"

After a while longer, Gray couldn't watch it anymore. "Hey, Ash-for-Brains," He shouted as he stood up, "I'm bored! Spar me!"

Natsu's head whipped towards him, a large smile plastered on his red face. He nearly shouted a conformation, but both of the girls he was talking with grabbed his shoulders.

"Sorry, Gray," Lucy shouted, "Natsu is a bit busy!" It took all of his willpower not to glower at the girl.

"We'll return him later," Lisanna promised.

"You'l return him later? He's not your property!" The ice mage swallowed his irritation and attempted to rationalize with himself as he turned to leave the guild. "I mean, he's not mine either, so why am I-" Gray shook his head slightly. He was already half-way home and clad in only his underwear, leaving him as exposed to the world as the reason for his actions was exposed to his mind. "Don't kid yourself, Gray. You know why you're like this."

Love was a word Gray used to hate. Not because it was a bad thing, but because everyone he'd ever associated it with had died. His mom, his dad, his childhood friends, his extended family, and his teacher were all gone, and until a few years ago, he'd have believed it was his fault.

Natsu changed that.

The pink-haired idiot had taught him that it was okay to cry, to trust in other, and to love himself, which was something that Gray had been unable to do for a long time.

"I love him, but he could never return that. Not in the same way."

Natsu was three seconds from decking both Lucy and Lisanna in the face and being done with it. They'd been bugging him for the past few hours, poking and prodding for personal information that he didn't feel like sharing. "They didn't even let me spar with Gray!"

"Come on, Natsu!" Lisanna was repeatedly poking him in the arm, desperate for an answer. "There has to be someone you like." She was smiling mischievously, and with Lucy mirroring the look, it was unnerving.

"Why won't you tell us?" Lucy was poking his other arm, effectively blocking his exit route. "It can't be that you're embarrasses are you?"

"Why," Natsu hissed out, "can't you except 'It's none of your fucking business' as an answer?" Many guild members had been watching them from a distance, curious about what was going on. Some had even made their way closer, like Mira. "Because it isn't any of your business." He made sure to bare his teeth a little more than the past few times he'd basically told them to piss off. Maybe they'd get the hint this time.

"But-"

Natsu wasn't even sure if it was Lisanna or Lucy, but he cut them off with a loud, "No," and the shoved them both away, "I'm going home. Bye, everyone." He ran over to the door and slipped out. He ran the long distance to his house, cold winds slapping him in the face and reddening it even more.

"If they found out I was in love with a guy, they'd never forgive me."

With the exception of The four dragon slayers he grew up with, Gajeel had never met anyone denser than the mages of Fairy Tail. He had listened to Lucy and Lisanna constantly prodding the annoying fire dragon he called his cousin. They had been close as children, not quite enough to call each other "brother", but that didn't mean he couldn't read Natsu like they were brothers.

The five of them had had a habit of people watching that allowed them to notice things no one else would, but something they all seemed to have in common is that they never seemed to notice anything pertaining to themselves. They used to laugh about these situations all the time, but now, it was hurting one of them. It may not be physical pain, but emotional pain was just as bad.

Gajeel sat quietly, formulating a plan, and damn was he proud of it.

"Now all I have to do is get us all in one place, at the same time, and make it look completely inconspicuous."

When Sting and Rogue had shown up claiming they wanted to hang out with the other dragon slayer like they had a children, Natsu had ridden it off as coincidence. They had stayed for a few hours and talked about everything that had happened since the dragons had left, and it had been nice. Several others had sat and listened to the stories along the way, and to Makarov's delight, not one brawl had been started,room, and the despite the fact that most all of the teenagers were in the guild's back room, together.

Then the sun started to set, and they proposed the idea of a game and brought out a special kind of alcohol. "Where did you even get that?" The pinkette asked. They had several bottles of the one kind of alcohol humans didn't sell, and it was then that Natsu started suspecting things. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Why'd you bring it though? That shit's expensive, and you can only get it from inhumans. Why waste it now?" Vodka was not sold among humans anymore, because there were so few people who could handle it, especially the higher percentage ones. However, if Natsu wanted to get drunk, he'd have to drink the higher percentage ones. His magic would burn all of it away otherwise. If he wanted it to last longer than a few minutes, then he'd have to add a special herb to it.

"The very herb that Wendy had in her hand," He noted. It worked the same way that cat-nip worked with cats but on dragons, so technically, he'd be high, not drunk.

"I see that look Natsu." Sting said annoyed, "You think we have ulterior motives." He paused, and when Natsu continued to analyze every last twitch of his body, he continued, "We don't. We just want to play a game of Never Have I Ever, and teach them how to play too."

Everyone seemed to brighten up at the thought of playing a game they'd never heard of, and the enormous grin that had been stretched across Sting's face was not helping Natsu's situation. Once Rogue pulled out the shot glasses, he knew there was no way he'd get anyone to back out of it.

With a look of utter disbelief, Natsu reluctantly agreed to play.

"Okay, so here's how the game works," Wendy began, "When it's your turn, you say 'Never Have I Ever' and then say something you've never done. If someone in the circle has done it before they down the shot." Several guild members looked at the shot glasses incredulously. They were only half the size that they were used to, and the drink inside was supposed to be flavored with whatever it said on the bottle. "Feel free to switch to water if you have to. This stuff is really strong."

Gajeel reached into his bag and pulled out a box that he passed to Wendy. "I know I don't have to say this, but you're not touching the alcohol."

Wendy's eyes lit up as she realized the box was filled with all of her favorite sodas, and she didn't hesitate to tackle the iron dragon slayer. "Thank you, Gajeel!"

He pushed her off gently and ruffled her hair, "Yeah, yeah. Let's start this thing. Never have I ever accidentally worn my underwear on the outside of my pants."

The group burst into raucous laughter. The laughing increased when Gray was the only one to take a shot and even more when he nearly spit it out. "I was not expecting it to burn like that," His voice had gone slightly hoarse, "Damn." By this point, Gray himself was laughing, and Gajeel signaled to the left at Sting.

"So for those of you who didn't get it, the weirder the thing is, the funnier the game is." When the others nodded, he giggled quietly and smirked, "Never have I ever let someone dress me up like a life-sized doll."

As soon as the words left his lips, a very violent "Fuck you," slipped out of Natsu's mouth as he snatched the shot glass and downed it like water. A few of the girls had also taken shots, but the attention was on the pinkette.

"Sorry, NaNa." Sting said joyously.

Natsu glared at him, "No you aren't, asshole." The group watched the exchange curiously, and Natsu sighed. "They'll never let me live this down." After steeling himself for the inevitable teasing, he quietly admitted to letting Wendy dress him up, play with his hair, and even put makeup on him when they were kids. While there was teasing, there were also several mentions of it being sweet of him from the girls.

"I think I still have pict-" Sting was abruptly cut off when a wooden sandal hit him in the face.

Natsu was smiling, but it seemed to be emitting it's own deadly aura. "No you don't," He said cheerfully. Those sitting closest to the fire dragon slayer, Gray, Lucy, Lisanna, and Erza, all shifted away slightly.

"That's terrifying."

The game had been going on for an hour now. Several of them had switched to water, and a handful had dropped out entirely, choosing to watch the chaos in their tipsy states. Cana, Gajeel, Rogue, Lucy, Lisanna, and Natsu were the only one's who hadn't switched to water or been given a soda from Wendy. Wendy, Erza, Levy, and Gray had all switched to water.

And Sting?

Sting was a lightweight and completely unconscious in Rogue's lap.

"Nev-Never have I ever," Lucy had gotten the hiccups about three shots in, and they wouldn't leave no matter what she did, "Had a cr-ush on a childhood friend."

Rogue, Lisanna, Erza, Levy, Gray, and surprisingly Natsu, all downed a shot. After the second never have I ever, they'd decided to tell the stories of whatever had happened, and for the most part, it had gone peacefully.

That wasn't the case this time. Lisanna shouted "I told you so," and immediately attached herself to Natsu, who began pushing her away the second she made contact with him. "You jealous?"

"I am n-ot jealous, and that doesn't m-ean anything!," Lucy shouted back, "He mi-ght not any more!" She reached out to shove Lisanna away, but Erza got in between both of then and Natsu.

"What's this about?" The red-head asked.

They both replied in perfect sync, "I like Natsu, but she likes Natsu, but we don't know who Natsu likes." They both looked like they were about to cry, and they reached for the fire mage again.

He was laughing softly, and the entire room looked at him like he'd lost it. He started to laugh louder and louder, and the two girls who'd been crushing on him began to get angry. Through his laughter he said something in a language they'd only heard a few times, Dravic. The other slayers busted into drunken giggles as well, and the fire mage lit himself on fire, making them laugh harder.

Erza, not wanting to see her friends hurt, glared at the slayer nearest to her, which happened to be Gajeel. "What part of this is funny?" She hissed.

He looked her dead in the eyes, his own filled with mirth, "Erza," He barked out with his laughter, "Erza," He continued to laugh before managing to forcing the sentence out, "He's flaming." The dragon slayers laughed harder.

Natsu dispersed the flames and unintentionally leaned back into Gray, who was behind him. He leaned forward again, face flushed slightly, and apologized half in Fiori and half in Dravic. Gray waved off the apology, and since he was drunk and no one was looking, he decided to pull the fire mage back into him, cuddling in when Natsu didn't move away.

Everyone's eyes were still glued to Erza, who was steadily getting more and more pissed off.

"And what exactly," Erza growled out, "Does that have to do with anything?"

Wendy stepped in between her "cousin" and Titania, choosing to explain before Erza decided to castrate him. "He translated a slang phrase from Dravic," She said gently. She placed her hands on Erza's shoulders and took a deep breath, "He's gay." Erza continued to stare at her blankly, "As in, he likes guys."

"I know what gay means, Wendy," the redhead replied quietly, "I'm just trying to wrap my head around it being used to describe Natsu, as it's not something I expected." She shook her head gently. "Or maybe I'm just tipsier than I thought..." She added. Everyone had cracked up again. After the laughter had died down, she made a humming noise. "It's... It's like being handed a piece of strawberry cake that looks just like strawberry cake, but when you take a bite of it, it's chocolate. There's nothing wrong with chocolate, you're just surprised it's not what you thought it was."

The room silenced, only for the one who started this mess to break it, "We're too shit-faced for this right now," Gajeel muttered. Those who hadn't passed out laughed, and once that died down, people began to sleep where they were. On a table, upside down, or in someone's lap.

The first thing Erza saw when she wake up confused her, until she remembered everything she found out the day before. Natsu was curled up in Gray's lap, dead asleep, and the ice mage was gazing at him adoringly, clearly still mostly asleep.

At that moment she understood that the reason she didn't see it had nothing to do with it not being there, but rather the fact that neither dared to show it. She didn bother to question it any further.

"I could get used to seeing them this happy."

Words: 2,606

[jackblankhsh]

Inauguration of a Nightmare -- building the avalanche

JANUARY 20, 2017– the resistance begins

Sirens randomly wailed as emergency vehicles screamed towards grim scenarios.  For any city native it’s a common sound, though one is tempted to call it foreshadowing.  A palpable dread pollutes the dreamlike atmosphere of this fog shrouded metropolis.  Any other night it might feel like the start of adventure and perhaps it still does, though one can’t help feeling what lies ahead is too dark to enjoy.  Yet, it’s the perfect time for Chicago to feel ethereal. The last few months have certainly felt unreal.  

In that time America elected a new president.  By many standards the man is barely human.  A mass of congealed hate and rotted dumpster meat wrapped in ruby cheeked Peking duck skin, cloaked in a miasmic aura of narcissism, dishonesty, and the kind of childishness one hopes never to see in a world leader; there are many facets to this wicked pig.  Like a matryoshka doll many entities exist within his soul: the Twitter crazed tantrum throwing teenager, world’s most successful conman, the unstoppable pussy grabbing hand rapist, demagogue extraordinaire, and gold plated plutocrat.  His obvious flaws caused Olympic grade mental gymnastic in many of his followers, while he fought hard to ultimately lose the popular vote, yet still become president.  

So on the night of his inauguration thousands gathered in Chicago.  In Washington protesters assembled for the event itself, but they got off on the wrong foot.  Violence erupted, and though brief, it tainted the message.  The goal of these protests is not to spill blood, or burn the world, it’s to avoid silence.  Activists want to show where they stand:  against what is coming.  This is especially necessary now given Trump’s pathological lying, and routine desire to rewrite history for his benefit.  Even after winning the election he found it so implausible that he lost the popular vote he began alleging voter fraud.  Not only does he operate under the delusion the country loves him he thinks reality is open to revision, particularly if it doesn’t match the fantasy in his head.  That’s why people are gathering in order to leave a mark which cannot be denied.  

Walking there, distracted by bleak visions of tomorrow – Vlad and Donnie raping Lady Liberty while dead eyed Stepford wife Melania watches, waiting to be told what to think, and press secretary Spicer prepares alternative facts to explain the grotesquery favorably – I wandered down the wrong street.  Instead of joining at the designated assembly point, Wabash and Wacker, I strolled down an empty avenue cordoned off by a smattering of cops. However, police made no move to stop a solitary oddity drifting with the trickle of 9-to-Fivers.  I blended in, and got a chance to observe the cops in waiting.  

Chicago police have a long history with protests, not all of it good, but in that time they’ve learned a thing or two.  Instead of trying to herd the rally they simply fortified the only target of assault. The odds of anyone getting within spitting distance seemed improbable, and because I beat them by chance I will eternally regret not taking the opportunity to hork a wad of phlegm at the building.  An officer moved a barricade aside to let me out of the area, complimenting my sideburns as I passed.  It made me wonder about their feelings.  Some may not have voted for him, but are now ordered to protect his property like dutiful centurions.  One can only hope that given a crisis of conscious, a moment that requires humanity not slave devotion to orders, they’ll do the right thing.  But for now they simply want the night to pass peacefully. They aren’t alone.  

Demonstrators assembled loosely, crowding into a tighter collective by Kupcinet Bridge. There to shout across the river at the name TRUMP glowing in blue tinted lights.  Among the masses a throng of musicians calling themselves Sousaphones Against Hate provided an odd soundtrack to the evening’s events.  One doesn’t think of sousaphones when picturing a protest, but they added a flavor to the affair more clichéd choices would not. There’s something about a brass band playing “The Imperial March” – it put a smile on the face of a man dressed as a nuclear missile, his costume chillingly implicative, but given the music one could only grin as well.  

Homemade signs declared the litany of grievances against President Trump from his failures as a human being and business person to his grotesque, undesirable political agenda. It’s unnerving to watch a young woman hold up a sign in hopes of reminding the world she’s deserves decent treatment because she doesn’t expect it in Trump’s America.  After all, she isn’t the right color, or on the right side, literally and figuratively, though it is heartening to witness so many gathered to stand with her.  

Amidst the activists at least two different publications vied for attention.  Handed for free to any who wanted them, one extolled the virtues of socialism, the other communism, while both asserted this presidency is the fault of capitalism.  Some took the papers gladly, though a few accepted them with a roll of the eyes destining them for the trash can unread.  Wandering the crowd I picked up discussions as protesters tried to comprehend how this reality came into being.  Everyone seemed to subscribe to their own theories which tended to lean toward their personal cause.  African Americans asserted racism as a primary factor in Trump’s win, while many women blamed sexism, but it’s important to note no one dismissed anyone else’s idea… except for one young man jabbering a slew of Orwellian weed tangled gibberish.  Many politely ignored him.  The point being that under a microscope everyone there clearly believed in a different cause, specific to their personal lives, yet those factors go somewhat to the wayside as activists assembled to resist the new president.  

A problem with contemporary protests is that everyone wants to come together as one but be heard individually.  Of one goal, demonstrators expect to be heard in multiple voices, each distinguishable from the whole.  This results in a garbled message.  However, that didn’t happen here.  Whatever a person’s reasons, everyone came to protest Trump.  And that message came across.

That made it sad when the various local news outlets seemed reluctant to record anything. I watched camera operators fiddle with equipment, but not shoot a thing.  They swapped idle chit chat waiting for, I can only assume, something unpleasant.  Riots are ratings gold after all.  I thought maybe they wanted to wait until the crowd reached a more sizable proportion, but honestly, the mass never reached anything critical.  Though thousands may’ve come a casual glance could tell the number easily stayed below ten, possibly even five… or dare say two.  Friday’s rally didn’t have an astonishing turnout, though Saturday would demonstrate perhaps many merely opted to wait to march in solidarity with the women of America.  

Still, this is a new era.  Reliance on old media is unnecessary.  I saw several in attendance recording, live streaming, photographing and video documenting the event.  The regular news may not have covered Friday’s protest in-depth, but the irregular new news, beamed out across social media, spoke volumes.  

#

The night started. Chants kicked up then died down, not enough voices joining in.  An organizer shouted into a crackling PA system that occasionally cut out, her voice vanishing before returning midsentence in a cloud of static. Volunteers passed out chant sheets, so anyone in attendance would know what to say.  Glancing over one I noticed a preponderance of, “2, 4, 6, 8…” followed by rhymes like, “No more violence, no more hate.”  After an hour, though, standing around felt like doing nothing, so I went into Hoyt, a nearby hotel tavern.  Also I needed to piss.  

Inside I found a pair of bottle blondes taking selfies, giggling over white wine without a care in the world.  Most eyes glued to the Hawks game on TV.  A few tourists glanced out the windows, and as if for the first time noticed the protesters choking the street.  They speculated about what could be happening.  It didn’t seem clear despite the “fuck Trump” signs and mass of humanity shouting anti-Trump rhetoric.  Then in true tourist fashion they hurried to the windows to snap pics, capturing real world souvenirs.  

Then midway through a refreshing Scotch I saw the protesters start marching.  I slammed the contents of my glass, and hurried outside.

“This is it!” I thought, “The resistance has begun!”  

Rushing to catch up I saw the demonstrators halt at Michigan Avenue.  Anticipating the attempt police stood ready to hold the movement back. So for a time the protest seemed destined to merely pinball between two streets until a group of activists turned the flow towards the river walk.  

Anxious to storm the Tower, the march poured down the concrete steps.  Hurrying to lower Wacker the maneuver seemed naïve.  Surely police must’ve anticipated such a move, though in fact they didn’t need to.  As already mentioned, barricades stood preventing anyone from getting close enough to piss on the gutters out front.  But motion feels like action, so the bulk of protesters surged onward. Signs held aloft elicited honks of support from passing motorists.  Cheering, feeling rejuvenated, on the road to success, the march circled like a shark.

It was then I saw a couple pausing from the protest to take a picture.  Passing by the infamous Billy Goat Tavern, a boyfriend photographed his girlfriend.  She posed to have, not only the landmark, but her sign in the photo as well.  The march slowly getting away from them, while they made sure to get the right shot.  

Shortly afterward I heard two demonstrators talking:

“Which street do we turn down to get to Trump Tower?”

“The next one?”

This exchange taking place a block after the relevant street.  I thought about directing them, but momentum seemed in favor of simply wandering the streets, shouting for attention.  When an organizer cried out, “We’re going to Lakeshore Drive!” trying to corral the herd to the Chicago landmark I departed from the march.  Gumming up LSD with protesters has become a predictable move in recent years.  It felt like the obligatory song of a one hit wonder trying to win back fans drifting to the exit.  Make no mistake, the spirit is willing, the flesh is not weak, but the movement is already fatigued.

Every day is a fresh pot of awful drunk choking back vomit.  This weekend’s protests are important, but they are more indicative of what’s to come rather than anything expected to effect change.  It would take god-sized optimism bordering on lunatic naivety to presume protests alone will unseat this “man.”  This is only the beginning.  

Now that it’s proven a call to action can assemble the masses it’s time to consider the next move. It isn’t enough to simply get people together.  Protests, after all, are more symbolic than effective.  Their main accomplishment is proving there is a movement, but they have to have an impact on something other than awareness of said movement.  

A friend of mine put it best, and if I may paraphrase:  it starts with a snowflake building to an avalanche.  We now need the avalanche.