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akechi-stole-my-heart · 1 year

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remember (remember) annotations because why the hell not

I've always wanted to make annotations for something I've written and I figured this would be a good opportunity, since this is a short and yet somewhat complex fic with a lot of parallelism/references. I'm writing this for the hell of it and because I think it'll be fun, I'm guessing it'll be pretty long and so for that reason I'm putting the rest under the cut. Without further ado, here are annotations for my recent 2k word one shot persona 5 fic remember that you can't save everyone (remember that you have to try).

part one: the writing process

My writing process varies for each project. I definitely tend more towards outlining, but this fic was somewhat of an exception for me. Since I knew it was going to be so short and very dialogue-heavy, I basically just had the rough idea planned out when I started drafting. Normally I might outline the whole thing, if not on paper then in a note or at least in my head, all in great detail. For this fic, I decided to write it on a whim, so there wasn't much time for the outlining stage.

I wrote the first draft in chunks of 500-ish words at a time over the course of a single night, pausing whenever I hit a roadblock or a good temporary endnote and returning to it a bit later. My drafting process is pretty basic. I tend to hyperfixate on whatever I'm writing and get into a flow state--and if I can't reach that flow state, I struggle to write anything at all. The words just kind of come to me, usually even a bit faster than I can write them (though I've started to catch up with my typing more recently--it helps that I write on my phone more often than not these days and I'm a lot faster that way).

Once the first draft was finished, I let it sit overnight, and since I was hyperfixating on it, I started work on the second draft basically right away once I woke up and kept working on it until it was done. Normally I don't work nearly this fast, but it helped that this was a hyperfixation-driven fic and that it was so short and simple.

My editing process is basically just a lot of rereading, tweaking/reordering/deleting/rewriting until I have something I'm happy with. In this case, I added about 200 words worth and deleted a lot of dialogue that I didn't think worked or didn't sound therapist-y enough. It's extremely hard writing Maruki's dialogue--just in general, but especially when he's in therapist mode.

The following is an example of the changes passages go through from the first draft to once its completed. The first draft is in italics, anything I cut is struck through, and anything I added is in bold.

Kurusu sniffles, and there's another long silence. Takuto gets up to refill his water glass in the meantime. While digging in the fridge, he ends up grabbing a beer too. Takuto tucks the phone between his cheek and shoulder to pick up his water glass and carry both back to his room.

He hates knowing Kurusu is suffering while so utterly helpless. He wishes more than anything he could do to something other than offer what must sound like empty platitudes.

After a long while Kurusu takes a deep breath and sighs. "Thank you, Doctor Maruki. I think I feel a little better now."

"I'm glad to hear it. If you ever need me, please, call me, at any time of day. Don't ever feel like you're bothering me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Takuto runs his hands through his hair, a tiny bit of tension dissipating–but most of it remains.

Takuto sets the drinks down on his bedside table. He grabs his phone with one hand and runs the other through his hair. "Would you like to talk about anything else?"

"No. I'm good now. Promise."

"I'm glad to hear that. If you ever need me, please, call me, at any time of day. Don't ever feel like you're bothering me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"All right. Don't forget what I said, Kurusu-kun. It's natural to be feeling a lot of conflicting emotions right now. If you ever need to talk it out more I'm here. It's okay to need help navigating the this grieving process."

"Yeah. Thanks." A door opens, and Takuto assumes Kurusu is headed back up to the attic for the night. "Goodnight, Doctor Maruki."

"Goodnight, Kurusu-kun."

Kurusu hangs up. Takuto sighs, allowing himself to slump forward and hold his head in his hands. He's so helpless. Not only with Kurusu, but also with his Kurusu's friends, and everyone else. At least with those like Rumi and Sumire Yoshizawa he'd been able to help, but the rest of them…there's nothing he can do. Absolutely nothing. Takuto opens the beer bottle and takes a swig.

I reordered the dialogue in one instance because I realized it sounded like Maruki was ending the call before Akira gave any indication that he was better/done talking, and it surprisingly still worked without having to change much. As you can see, there's a lot more added than subtracted. I'm an underwriter, and I wanted to break up the dialogue and indicate Maruki's what reaction was to what Akira told him through his actions. The rest of the changes are pretty small and were tweaked during the final few proofreads before I posted the fic on ao3.

Fun fact, I was debating for a long time whether he should refer to Sumi as Sumire or Kasumi in his head (on one hand, she believes she's Kasumi because of him and maybe he wants to respect that, on the other hand he's well aware she's not Kasumi and only believes that because he made her do so), before I remembered he pretty much exclusively refers to her as Yoshizawa out loud in the game and that that worked as a good compromise.

part two: commentary

Now we get to the fun part! This part is going to be pretty much nonsense unless you've read the fic already, so I recommend you go do that first, and then you can come back here. I'm going to take out passages and explain my thought process behind them/any parallels/deeper meaning behind them. This might take some of the magic out of it in the same way explaining a joke takes away its humor, so if you'd rather not see this peek behind the curtain, I understand.

Her back is to him, but she's closer than she's ever been. If only he could get her attention–Takuto reaches out, and he could swear, the tips of his fingers graze the back of her head, just barely tousling her hair. She's so close.

Bzzt.

Takuto is ripped away from her.

The fic opens with a dream Maruki is having of attempting to reach Rumi. This is pretty straightforward--he misses her and wants her back in his life, but he knows that's impossible, so he can't reach her no matter how hard he tries. I started here because I wanted to remind the reader where his mindset is at and the trauma that's led him to this place as context for the rest of the fic.

He fumbles with the phone, nearly accidentally rejecting the call as he struggles not to drop it. He manages to press accept and presses the phone to his ear.

I love how awkward and clumsy Maruki is. I headcanon him as ADHD and I tried to reflect that in this fic by describing how restless he is later on, constantly pacing around his room as he and Akira talk. But anyway, as for this little section I wanted to include his clumsiness without breaking the tone of the fic, so this happens early on before the more serious stuff happens and it'd be jarring to hear about Maruki stumbling around.

"Kurusu-kun?" he tries.

Silence. Then, a very soft and quiet, "...Yeah."

"Is everything alright?"

More silence. An even softer, "No."

Takuto switches on his lamp. Kurusu has never called him before, let alone in the middle of the night. Whatever this is about, it's serious, and he's trusted Takuto with it above anyone else. "Do you want to talk about it?" Kurusu mumbles something inaudible. "I'm afraid I couldn't make out–"

"I'm sorry," Kurusu says. "I didn't realize it was this late. It's nothing. Forget I even–"

While Akira is the one who called, I wanted to make it clear that he was hesitant about talking to Maruki, since I think it's in character for him to be afraid of making himself a burden. He called because he was so overwhelmed with emotion and immediately regretted it, and he continues to be hesitant to share his feelings for the rest of the fic. He just isn't used to talking about them out loud with anyone, not even his own counselor.

"We don't have to talk about anything if you prefer. I'll sit on the line with you until it's safe to hang up."

"It's not like that." Kurusu's words come out rushed, almost panicked, like he's desperate to clear up a misunderstanding.

"Like what?"

"I don't want to hurt myself. Or…whatever."

Oh, Akira. He called Maruki in the middle of the night and yet he's still worried about making Maruki worry about him. He doesn't want Maruki to think he's weak, either. My sweet, sweet child and his debilitating hero complex and aversion to vulnerability...

There's more quiet sniffling from the other side. "I'm sorry," repeats Kurusu. "I'm so sorry…"

Somehow, Takuto doesn't think Kurusu is talking to him anymore.

This is probably my favorite moment in the fic. Akira has already been apologizing, but this is the moment he breaks and starts talking about Akechi, even if he doesn't fully realize it himself yet. My baby boy and his overwhelming crushing guilt. ;-;

Kurusu's apologies deteriorate into sobbing. Takuto listens silently, his heart aching for the kid who helped him so much with his research. He swears to himself, right then and there, that he'll do whatever is in his power to end Kurusu's suffering, no matter what.

Here's the first obvious parallel between Maruki and Akira--they both want to save everyone else. In fact, they believe its their duty to do so, to their own detriment. There's another parallel in here too, with Maruki feeling like he owes Akira for how much he's helped him in his research. I think Akira feels the same way about owing people, since his confidants are all structured as give-and-take deals.

More creaking steps. A squeaky door opens and shuts. Kurusu sighs softly. "I took us back down to the bathroom. I don't want to wake Mona and…the café isn't exactly…um. Forget it. It doesn't matter."

Takuto sets that aside. It's not important right now that he understand Kurusu's situation, so long as he's comfortable where he's at. "Are you feeling any better, Kurusu-kun?"

"Um. I guess?" A pause. He sighs. "No, not really. I'm not." He sniffs again. His next words are muffled, almost unintelligible. "Ugh, fuck."

Obvious reference to Futaba's bugs is obvious.

Since I'm not sure how clear Akira's side of things is from Maruki's perspective, I'll just explain it here. Akira left to "clean himself up" in the bathroom after crying. In reality, the moment he tried to calm down, he just ended up breaking down all over again and cried for almost five minutes. Eventually he forcibly gathered himself so he could be coherent for Maruki and prevent him from worrying about him too much. Akira is assuming when he goes back upstairs to retrieve his phone that he'll be able to have better control of his emotions now that he's let himself cry for a bit. Him saying "fuck" is when he realizes that's not the case, and he hasn't regained his composure the way he thought he did. He's already on the verge of crying all over again.

"No, it's not–I just. I don't…really…talk to people. Anyone. About this stuff. Or…anything." He pauses. "I just…I mean, last month, I went through hell, and even then, I didn't–I didn't talk to anyone. Because I was fine! It was okay. I was okay. But now I'm just–I'm falling apart, and–" He breaks down again, starts to cry. "Goddammit. I shouldn't be–I'm sorry, I never should have called you."

Akira's partially convincing himself he was fine, of course. Akechi's death was just the straw that broke the camel's back (though it was a really huge straw). In a way, though, he's not lying either, because Akira just. cares more about others than he does himself. He can deal with his own suffering and trauma--its the suffering and death of his friend that breaks him.

Takuto wants something to chew on–something to distract himself from this listlessness he feels just listening to Kurusu, unable to help him in any meaningful, measurable way. He settles for the inside of his cheek.

"ADHD Maruki loves his snacks" but angst.

"He was right there," Kurusu continues, "but I couldn't do anything. And then it was too late, and…it's all my fault. I should have done something. I should have reached out sooner, but I didn't know what to do. Maybe if I wasn't so helpless and stupid I could have stopped him but now he's gone and it's all my fault."

Takuto waits until he's sure Kurusu's finished. "Forgive me if my assumption is incorrect, but this friend…did he take his own life?"

Kurusu laughs, and he hasn't sounded more miserable all night than he does now. "Yeah. Something like that."

Yeah. I mean, that's really the only way for Maruki to understand Akechi's death at this point. Once again, Akira blames himself and unrightfully puts all the responsibility on his own shoulders when the circumstances were out of his control. Remind you of anyone else?

"You don't need to apologize," Takuto repeats. He takes a breath and sits back down on his bed. "I'm terribly sorry for what happened to your friend. It's a horrible thing to lose someone that way. But it's important to accept that sometimes circumstances are out of our control and there's nothing we could have done to save them."

Maruki take your own advice challenge (IMPOSSIBLE!)

Seriously, though, Maruki having a double standard for himself and everyone else, where he breaks every rule he sets for his ideal reality because he is the exception, he is the one who must suffer for the sake of everyone else, is so incredibly interesting and tragic to me and I wanted to explore that here. How it doesn't even occur to him to take his own advice because of course it doesn't apply to him. He's the one who must save everyone, because he's the only one who can.

Of course, that complex of his gets a whole lot worse once he's offered the power of a god.

"What do you think he'd say to you now, if he were here?"

"Um…well." Kurusu sighs. "He'd…tell me to move on. That it's stupid to blame myself and that he made his choice."

"He'd want you to forgive yourself and live on for him, then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he would."

Maruki, that's an incredibly generous way to put what Akechi would have to say if he saw Akira crying over him. (He's not wrong, though. That is what Akechi would want, even if that's far from how he'd put it himself.)

"You're a very strong young man, Kurusu-kun. You've endured so much this past year, trials you didn't deserve to face. And yet you've triumphed over them every time. That deserves recognition. It's okay to need help. Losing a friend to suicide is not an easy thing to deal with."

"Yeah. I just…" His voice lowers again. "I wish he were still here. I miss him so much."

"I know."

Okay, there's a lot going on here.

First of all--Akira is definitely misinterpreting Maruki's words right here. Maruki means to be saying that Akira's already dealt with so much that its okay to need help, but he's unintentionally supporting the narrative that Akira's been told by so many other adults. "You're so strong and capable and mature, it's incredibly impressive"--and Akira is internalizing this as they have high expectations for me, I can't fail them. He's seen as strong and capable so he's not ever allowed to be anything less. Its another way that the one adult Akira thought he could rely on ends up failing him by putting far, far too much on his shoulders.

This is something Maruki consistently does throughout the confidant by turning the person he should be counseling into his therapist, and later by placing the fate of the world on Akira's shoulders by forcing him to make the decision of which reality to subject the whole world to all by himself. This isn't a choice Akira should be forced to make, and yet Maruki is making him do it anyway, because he sees Akira as the ultimate arbiter of true justice. Akira is seen as incredibly mature and capable for his age by every adult he befriends and they each tell him so, which absolutely cannot be healthy for a sixteen year old kid to hear.

Second of all--"I wish he were still here." There it is. Akira's wish, everyone. The phrasing was entirely intentional. This is how Maruki finds out about Akechi's death. Once he gains access to Mementos and learns what happened in Shido's Palace (likely through Shido's Shadow), he puts two and two together and realizes the "friend" Akira must have been talking about was Akechi. This is how Maruki knew.

And here's the thing. Akira hates being vulnerable already. This phone call was incredibly difficult for him to make as it was. And now, because he talked to his therapist and told him something so deeply personal--that's why Akechi's brought back. That's why he's forced to go through the trauma of 2/2 and let Akechi die all over again. This is Maruki's ultimate betrayal, to use Akira's vulnerability as a weapon against him and hold Akechi hostage.

I believe Maruki when he says he doesn't want to do this to Akira. But that didn't stop him from doing it anyway. Because he believed his reality was worth putting that huge of a burden on Akira's shoulders, one he'll have to live with for the rest of his life. Imagine the toll that's going to put on Akira now. Imagine how much more difficult it'll be for him to talk to anyone about his problems ever again, for fear it'll be used against him like Akechi was. For fear he might put his friends in danger simply for the sin of opening his mouth and daring to be vulnerable.

Takuto gets up to refill his water glass in the meantime. While digging in the fridge, he ends up grabbing a beer too.

This is a reference to that one cut scene that implies Maruki may be something of an alcoholic. "Ends up" was intentional phrasing--Maruki doesn't see it so much as an active choice. He needs it to cope.

Takuto wishes he could do something, anything, to help him. But even with his powers, not even he can bring back the dead.

✨ Foreshadowing ✨

He finds himself in his office. His research paper is sitting here on the desk, already printed out. This is all he has–that, and his powers, which are currently limited and mysterious, but with the proper research might be able to grow into something that could help so many more than the very few he's helped so far. If only he had the resources to actualize it.

He has to find a way to help people like Kurusu and his lost friend. What he has now isn't much, but it's something, and he's determined to turn it into something more. Something that can save everyone from their suffering for good.

Takuto finishes off a third beer bottle. "I swear it, Kurusu-kun, on my own life," Takuto whispers. "I'll save you and all your friends."

Obvious foreshadowing is obvious. Once again, this is Maruki doing the exact thing he told Akira he shouldn't do--place responsibility on his own shoulders for other people's suffering.

"All your friends" is very intentional phrasing as well. He's including Akechi in that. He doesn't know how yet, just that he has to...well...try to save everyone.

Speaking of the title, its referring to both Akira and Maruki. Akira feels he should have been able to save Akechi, while Maruki feels he must save Akira and everyone else. The title was really what tied the whole one shot together. I realized what the title had to be while thinking about the one shot in the shower, and that's when I discovered what thematic throughline was. It retroactively justified my arbitrary decision to have the one shot be from Maruki's perspective (I initially thought it would just be an interesting experiment since I've never written anything from his perspective before). This one shot is about how Maruki does the exact thing Akira feels he should do. Its about how they're thematic foils, and yet similar in so many fundamental ways. It foreshadows their ideological struggle in the third semester and how they're driven by such similar motivations. And how easily Akira could have become like Maruki if he'd been alone.

#sera writes #cw suicide mention #cw self harm mention

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numbandhigh · 4 years

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The nightmare yanked Jae from his sleep, leaving the startled male in a cold sweat as he shot up into a sitting position on D's couch... Where was he? Where-... And then the sound of Dariuses rugged snores caught his ear and he shut his eyes. Dragging a shaky hand over his face. Right. He was at D's watching over him.

When he opened his eyes, A small blonde vampire female stood at the end of the couch staring at him. Her sandy blonde waves falling down the elegant slope of her thin shoulders, stopping at her misection. Her crystel blue eyes sad and distant, the bruises distorted her beauty and made her soft porcelain skin look sickly pale. Oh god no.Her face twisted into an angry upset expression.

"Micheal, you monster." No no no, he had to still be dreaming. She began to come around the sofa, and the male scrambled back, falling hard over the arm of the couch and knocking over the small side table that had been there- the mug that had been there smashed to the floor. He didn't care as the glass bit into his palms and feet. "You should've just left it alone." "Please " he croaked, clearing away from the females small unassuming form as if fearing a strike.

The woman kept coming, moving over the knocked over table and shattered cup. "I..." The anger in her face grew more intense, and she reached up gripping her throat. "I'm dead because of you!!!"

In a gruesome display, she sank her nails into her pale bruised neck and ripped everything out. He couldn't watch, clasping his hands over his ears the male recoiled tucking his knees close, as Dainahs body fell heavily to the floor.

There was silence, a long painful silence and Jae could do nothing but sit there and shake.. he was afraid of what he'd see when he opened his eyes. Would she be there? Laying there bleeding out? He tried to tell himself it wasn't real, muttering the words until he managed to pull himself into a calmer state. Shaky hands slowly lowering, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Her cold eyes directly inform of his face, she screamed and grabbed at his face-

Forgetting Darius, forgetting himself, forgetting everything. Jae flew from the small house apartment, his thick thighs pumping fast and hard as he soared over the concrete. Shirtless, shoesless and bleeding from the bottoms of his feet, he didn't stop. And he didn't look back.

---

"Common man. I need it." Jae held the dealer pressed tightly against the back ally building, hazel eyes wide and nearly crazed. "Jesus Mj- you already went through the stash I gave you last week? That should have lasted you nearly a month.""Bullshit.-I need more man, I.. fuck-" He didn't dare look at the silhouette that was appearing in the corner of his vision. "I'm tweaking man, seeing shit- I just.. oh fuck.." the large male trembled slowly falling to his knees and loosened his grip on Diablos vest.

The drug dealer look down at him with a mild look of pity, "you got a problem man, and that's saying something coming from me." "Micheal don't hide from me." Her voice echoed in his head, and he rubbed shaky hand over his face looking up at the Vampire. "Please man. Anything." The dark-haired vampire purses lips, reaching into his heavy trench coat he felt around in the endless pockets before pulling out a small baggy of H+ the highest quality heroin around and the only thing that could drown out the sound of his sister's voice. "Oh god man- thank-" he'd begun to reach for it when Diablo snatched it away, eyebrows shooting up. "I assume you don't have cash on you now so I'll expect payment within the next few days don't keep me waiting."

He's unreluctantly tossed the baggie to jae and watched the big male as he caught it and quickly got up. "You got it."

---

Jae sat against the back side of a local bar- it somehow managed to stay open during everything going on. But that worked in Jae's favor. H with shaky hands he tied the hand towel he'd snatched around his thick fore arm- making the vein he needed easy to find before pouring the crystals into a metal spoon and houvering a lighter underneath the smoothest part. "Common baby.. common." She squeezed his eyes shut as Dainahs voice began to call to him again- the clean syringe that Diablo provided him rested between his teeth as he waited for the crystals to melt.

"Are you happy?" Her voice came from his right but he didn't dare look focusing on the drug, when it was ready he dropped the lighter and when for the syringe. Carefully taking every last drop- this amount of pure H would probably kill a human, but he'd done it many times before. Trembling he pulled the needle close to his vein and tried to focus his eyes, blinking hard- when he found it, he aimed for the injection spot and stabbed.

@mxevan

#closed starter #drug abuse #tweaking #rp #mxevan

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gigglesn0rts · 4 years

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Arms Up!

I couldn't resist writing a little fic based off of @the-spooky-lee's sallyface headcanons! I really like their blog please go check them out I beg! Anyways it's 3am and I haven't written in forever forgive me for being so rusty

-------

Sal was lounging on the couch with Ashley by his side. The two of them had been chit-chatting for a couple hours now, leaving both of them happy and content. Sal was stretched out over Ashley's lap like some sort of cat, his head resting on her thigh in which she had the audacity to point out. "Comfy?" She looked down at the boy with a smile that squeezed his heart. "You're just like your cat" She started, placing a singular hand on top of his stomach as she spoke.

"Always laying in the weirdest places."

"Im just tired.."

Sal felt a shiver run down his spine at the gentle touch, flinching out of reflex. Butterflies of anticipation and a hint of excitement began to flutter in his stomach as he watched Ash out of the corner of his eye. That sweet and heartwarming smile she wore moments earlier was quickly exchanged for a mischievous grin that made the hairs on the back of Sal's neck stand up. "I barely even touched you! Poor thing!" She cooed as she placed her other hand on his stomach right next to the other. Sal shot his own hands down to half-heartedly cling onto his friends wrists with a frail "Don't-" leaving his lips, but they both knew he didn't mean it. Ash grabbed his wrists and gently pressed them against the cushion above him, giving him another sweet smile. "You remeber how to play don't you? Keep your arms up Sally!~"

"Ash you don't have to do thihIS-!"

As soon as Ash started to spider her fingers across his stomach his arms came crashing down. "Ah-Ah! Keep them up or I'll stop completely!" God that was instant kill. His face went up in flames as he reluctantly and slowly lifted his arms back up. He really didn't want her to stop and he hated admitting it. "Aww how cute~" And with that she began her attack once more. She curled her fingers into claws as she slowly and siftly dragged them down her victim's palms all the way down his forearms, stopping to scratch at the insides of his elbows. Sal was already struggling to hold in giggles, small chirps and titters leaking out at the gentle scratches. "C'mon now Sal you can't hold it in forever" Long manicured nails continued their way down Sal's arms to trace feather light circles into the hollows of his armpits which caused his arms to twitch. "What's wrong Sally Face? Does it tickle?" The dam finally broke and he tossed his head back against her thigh and let out bubbly giggles that were akin to sweet music. Fingers continued to spider their way down the boys ribs, causing his arms to shake and for him to squeal whenever Ash pinched at the skin, then down to his stomach. His shirt had hitched up from his wiggling within her lap and she instantly went in for the kill. "Ahahsh! Noohoho!!" He raised his head up to look at her but immediately through it back down when she pulled his shirt up to scribble over his now exposed stomach. "Does someone have a ticklish little tummy? Hm? Let's see shall we!" She scratched an inch or two above his navel and his arms came crashing down as he squealed. "NOHOHO!!" His arms were glued to his sides as he wriggled about and drummed his feet against the sofa. "AHAAHASHEHLEHEEY!" By now she was blowing raspberries all over the poor boys stomach and sides while her hands tweaked at his ribs. Peels of laughter fell from his lips in a continuous loop, his face burning hot from the blush that continued to grow upon his cheeks. He shrieked when she began to scritch and scratch at his hips, bucking his hips up and instinctively pulling his knees up to his chest only for Ash to push them back down. "NOHOHONONOHOHO- EEEK!" He squealed and bucked once more when she started to blow more raspberries on his ribs while continuing her gentle attack on his boney hips. "Tickle tickle tickle, Sally! I think someone's a little tick-l-ish!" A poke to the belly button with every pause. Tears were forming in Sal's good eye as he continued to squeal and cackle like a little kid afraid of the tickle monster. With one last raspberry to his stomach Ash finally stopped her assault and gave the boy some mercy hearing as his laughter was starting to die down. He burrowed his face into her stomach with his legs and arms around his chest curled up in a ball, residue giggles continuing to pour from his lips nearly hiccuping between little laughs. "Gosh, you're just too cute!" Ash happily exclaimed, pinching Sal's side one last time causing him to snort. "You okay Sally?" She asked as she pet his hair. He nodded in return. "Did you have fun you ticklish little blueberry?" She chuckled to herself as Sal groaned. As embarrassed as he was about it - he did have fun. He always did. Ash didn't need a verbal answer from him to know he had fun though. She smiled and ruffled his hair and looked over at the clock. "It's getting late you should try to sleep soon Sal, I'm sure the tickle monster tuckered you out!"

"Can you stay?"

"Of course."

Needless to say they both returned to a peaceful state of mind, happy and relaxed as they clung onto eachother and eventually drifted off to sleep.

#sally face tickles #ticklish!sal #sally face #platonic or romantic #either work

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risingphoenix761 · 6 years

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A Dangerous Game - Ch. 1

Happy Halloween! And guys....it's here!

Ten years. No more, no less. But now the clock has run out, and it’s time to negotiate a new deal with the King of Hell.

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Crowley x OFC (can be read as reader insert)

Warnings: NSFW. Season 8 divergent. Language. Smut. Heavy BDSM. Violence. Angst. Fluff. Crowley being Crowley.

Series Masterlist

Whew, it's time! First of all, I can't believe I'm doing this! Second, this was going to be just a one-shot, then a two-parter, now it's gonna be multi-chaptered and I think my head is gonna explode. Third, this starts post 8/pre 9, and I'm still tweaking the timeline to suit my nefarious purposes. Fourth, I'm scared to death and I'm rambling, so let's do this!

Chapter warnings: language, talk of Hell, demons, damnation, canon-typical stuff. Nothing to offend the youth. Yet.

###

It's a sin with no name

Like a hand in a flame

And our senses proclaim

It's a dangerous game

Jekyll and Hyde, "Dangerous Game"

***

I had my favorite dress on, a glass of wine in my hand while my favorite album played on the stereo. I had spent the past week in a haze of indulgence; fancy hotels, spa days, fantasy travel destinations, all was fair game for six days and nights before I went back to my own house to say goodbye to what friends I had left, then enjoy the comfort of my own home. While I could, that is.

There was no need to watch the clock. I had timed the music down to the very second. The last song would finish playing the instant my time ran out. Ten years, exactly. No more. No less.

Maybe I should have been scared--well, more scared. These would be my last moments on Earth...but I didn't want them spoiled by fear. There would be eternity for that soon enough. Right now, the wine was sweet, the dress made me feel fabulous, and the music was like a cherished friend come to visit. For last moments, I think I could have done worse.

The last note faded out, and I took one last breath...

"Hello, darling."

I felt a shiver down my spine at the sound of the voice, soft with a slight rasp, nearly purring with satisfaction. It had been a decade since I heard that voice, but it hadn't changed at all. "Crowley," I said, keeping my voice calm and measured as I turned to face him. "Or is it Your Majesty?"

His smile held as much satisfaction as his voice. I assessed him in one look and found almost nothing different about the demon I had met ten years ago. Immaculate suit all in black, dark brown hair neatly trimmed although the beard was scruffier than I remembered, and the same arrogant light in those eyes that suggested he knew every move you would make ten moves ahead of time. "King of Hell," I went on. "Impressive."

"I always aim to astound," he replied, gazing around my living room. "And you. You've done well for yourself."

"I've learned a few tricks over the years," I explained, snapping my fingers. The fireplace roared to a blaze and the dimmed lights brightened, illuminating the room and half the house. I had good taste, if I said so myself, and the entire place looked posh and elegant without being pretentious or flashy.

I should know. I enchanted it that way.

Crowley looked only vaguely curious and mostly underwhelmed. "Oh, love," he said, sounding disappointed, "if you've spent the last ten years on party tricks and pretty decorations, you've wasted your bloody time."

"Actually, I've been taking a few lessons with your mother."

His face fell in less time than it took to say it.

I had been young, dumb, and desperate when I first went to the crossroads looking to make a deal. The demon who appeared had been haughty and supercilious but surprisingly charming as I stated my terms and he named his price: power beyond anything I had dreamed, a gift that was mine to do whatever I wanted with, and ten years to do it in. For the price of my soul, he made me a witch.

A broken home, a bad relationship, pick whatever sad history suits the moment. I needed what he offered, and with my new gift I freed myself. For the first time in my life, my destiny was mine, and the first five years were a wild celebration of my own liberation. As soon as I realized, however, that my time was half over, I changed lanes and sought out Rowena MacLeod, one of the most powerful witches in history, if not the most powerful. Under her tutelage, my own power grew and more than that, she taught me the magic of my own intelligence. My craft was only as good as my cunning, and with her guidance, both had thrived.

Such a possibility seemed to occur to Crowley, judging by the way his mood shifted. He slid his hands into his coat pockets and his shoulders dropped as he tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Yes, indeed," he remarked dryly, "and no doubt, Mummy dearest taught you everything she knows, did she?"

"Not everything," I said. "We both know better. She's too tricky for that."

He rolled his eyes. "What do you say we cut the clap trap, love, and get to what I'm here for. You know what you owe me. Ten years with those flashy powers of yours, then your soul is mine. Time's up, dearie. I came to collect."

"Personally?" I asked. "You mean you don't have a host of lackeys you could have sent instead?"

"Of course I do, darling. I'm the king. None other before me. But I prefer to collect on my old deals myself, you see. Wrap things up the way I started them. No lackeys involved and trust me, it's better that way."

"Is that you telling me that anyone else, I'd already be hell hound chow?"

"Oh yes," he replied without missing a beat. "Flesh torn to shreds, favorite dress ruined. Not the way you'd like to go, surely."

"Since when did what I'd like become a consideration?" I asked. "And what makes you think this is my favorite dress?"

"No idea," he shot back. "Maybe because it's your last night on Earth, you've spent the last few days living it up on an international level, you're boozing it in your living room right now. Going out with a bang, and you wouldn't be the first."

"Have you been keeping tabs on me?"

"Professional curiosity. I heard you were moving up in the world of witchery and thought I'd better keep an eye on you."

"Why?"

"That's strictly need-to-know information, sweetheart. Now," he clapped his hands once, rubbing his palms together, "shall we get this show on the road, or do I need to call the dogs?"

I sighed. "I'm looking at eternal damnation, Crowley, surely you can spare me a few minutes."

He paused thoughtfully for a moment or two, then gave a small shrug as he sat down on the couch. "I suppose I could. But not without a nosh, thank you."

I moved to pour him a glass of wine but I had barely lifted a hand before it appeared in his. He swirled the glass around in a leisurely manner before lifting it to his nose and breathing deeply; "Interesting," he noted, then took a sip. "And not quite what I expected."

I listened but barely paid attention, considering my next words very carefully. So far, Rowena's information had been good, "He likes ye, or at the verra least, ye dinna annoy him," and that meant maybe--maybe--I had a chance. "So," I began, "Your Highness..." I played with the words as they left my lips, low and sultry then soft and breathy, and I saw him settle deeper into the couch, like a contented cat. "How is the new promotion working out?"

"Small talk?" he asked. "Really?"

I shrugged. And I waited.

"I'm at the top of the food chain, darling. Every black-eyed bugger in creation bows to my whim. Thousands upon thousands of yes-men and sycophants line up to lick the dirt from my shoes. If I so much as sneeze, it's a competition to be the first to say...well, not "bless you," but you do get the idea."

"I do," I agreed, returning to my own glass of wine and taking a swallow for effect before adding, "and that's not quite what I've heard lately."

He looked less smug and I pressed on, "The word going around is that there's an attempt at a new coup almost as soon as you put down the last one. Abbadon might have gone to ground, but there's still those who would have followed her, and there's a certain percentage of Hell who are a little...concerned, at your constant alliances with the Winchesters. However temporary or self-serving. You might be king, but your throne is far from secure."

There was almost no trace of satisfaction in his manner or expression anymore. He stared silently for a moment, then leaned forward to set the wine on the coffee table, propping his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together as he regarded me. "And where, exactly, are you getting your information these days, pet?" he asked.

"Why do you want to know?" I countered, my heart starting to race. "Too accurate?"

"Hardly. I just want to know who you're letting fill your pretty head with such nasty stories."

"If they're just stories, then why are you so riled?"

"Riled?" Whether it was the magic in me or what he was putting out, the air around him seemed to shimmer with dry heat and I felt as though I was standing too close to a bonfire. "Don't be ridiculous. If I was, as you say, riled, in any shape, form, or fashion, I promise you, darling. You'd already be screaming."

I swallowed hard. He was struggling to hold the throne, and it was a sore point with him. "Fergus needs the upper hand," Rowena had told me time and time again. "He hates the feeling that he's not in control, and that's how ye snare him. Push him hard enough, he'll bend, and ye can predict and plan for that. Too hard, he'll break, and all yer wits and magic won't help ye then."

"You need allies," I told him, "besides the Winchesters. Somebody whose loyalty is assured, down in the thick of things, eyes and ears to the ground for any mutiny in the ranks."

"Oh, you think so?" he retorted. "A spy. How original. I wonder why I never thought of that before."

"You have. Several times. Half of your spies have already double-crossed you, and you're wondering which of the other half will be next."

His eyes narrowed and his voice was low and dangerous. "You're too smart for your own good, love," he told me, raising his hand and poised to snap his fingers.

"Wait," I said, lifting my own hand in a placating gesture. "I have a proposition for you."

"Did I speak too soon?" he ventured, more sarcastic than ever. "Are you trying to make another deal, when you're not even square on the last one?"

"Oh, forgive me, Your Majesty, but an eternity of torture and hellfire sounds slightly less than ideal."

"Well, bollocks, darling. That sounds like what's known as a 'you problem.'"

"The way I see it, we both have a problem, and we might be able to help each other out."

"And let me guess, we come to your deal."

"We do."

I had no idea who I was praying to, but by whatever force was listening, I hoped Rowena knew her son as well as she thought. "I'll be your inside man. If there's anything worth knowing going on Downstairs, I'll find out and pass it on to you. You do whatever you like with the information."

His eyes flicked up and down my person, taking my measure. "And why should I trust you, exactly? You're overdue for the rack. You'll say anything right now."

"You've listened to me so far without siccing your hounds on me," I pointed out. "You think I'd dare betray you, knowing I'm damned and waiting to be thrown into the Pit?"

"So, you spy for me and I spare you from damnation, is that it?"

"Close. I want to be queen."

The room was silent but for the crackle of the fire. I didn't say another word, and I hardly dared to breathe, waiting for him to respond.

He leaned back again, crossing one ankle over the other knee and draping an arm across the back of the couch. I wasn't aware of the moment the glass of wine vanished from the table, it was simply in his hand as if it had been there all along. "Queen," he finally said. "As in, Queen of Hell. As in, my queen." He swirled the glass, watching the liquid inside twirl and spin and not sparing even the most disparaging look at me. "That ginger bitch certainly got her hooks in you..."

"I wanted to make the bargain," I replied, "she only told me how to negotiate."

"The right hand of Hell in exchange for gossip? Is that how you negotiate?"

"The art of the deal, right?"

"Oh, darling..." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "If you're taking advice from that buffoon, you're already screwed."

"I don't want a parade," I added, "I don't want a fuss. Not even a coronation, if that's even a thing. I just want the title, security, and power to do my job. An all-access pass, if you will."

"And how effective a spy do you think you'll be, once word gets out?"

"It can't. It stays between us. As far as the rest of Hell knows, I'm just another damned soul tormented at your pleasure."

"And your explanation for being seen so often in my company, as you undoubtedly will be?"

"Tell them I'm your whore for all I care."

He paused again, finally looking up at me, and the instant our eyes locked his flashed red and I felt a rush of terror. It was subtle, so subtle I might not have noticed but for the magic in me, but...something passed through me, some outside force darker and more powerful than anything I had ever encountered in my decade of witchcraft, shifting through my blood and bones to invade my mind and pierce through to my soul. I couldn't hide anything, every thought, feeling, secret, sin, fear, and desire rising from the shadows of my being in one lightning-strike moment; he smiled, and I knew whatever control I had of the moment was gone for good.

"Ah," he purred, "so that's what you really want, isn't it? That's what you really, really, want. Forget whatever new deal you want to cut, forget titles and power and all that drivel. It's all just a means to an end, and it ends with you in my bed. Ah ah ah," he said, overriding the contradiction forming on my lips, "don't lie to me, pet. You're not the only one who listens to the rumors, and rumor has it you've got a bit of a dark side. Danger, domination, everything that makes Christian Grey look wholesome...it excites you."

I felt heat again, but it wasn't all coming from him. I had never even said so much aloud, and he let it roll off his tongue with almost enough mockery to hide the relish. I had heard the rumors about my tastes with my own ears and Rowena might have guessed how true they were, but no one ever knew for certain until now. My deal ten years ago was just the start, the thought of everything I was risking stoking a fever in my blood I had spent the last decade trying to abate. I had pushed the limits of my inhibitions along with my magic, and even now this game we were playing, discussing terms with my soul on the line, was enough to set my heart pounding and my need rising. If he always needed the upper hand, I always needed to up the ante. More thrills, more risk, and what could possibly be more dangerous than bedding the King of Hell?

He stood and slowly made his way toward me, the heat of his power and my want getting stronger the closer he got. "Oh, darling," he said, soft and silky as he leaned close to whisper in my ear, "if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask."

###

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

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The curve flattened I'm told due to evaporation.

Evaporation is allowed to occur when 3 or more people in one house have COVID-19 and give consent to immediate travel to their home place -- some aliens prefer not to call it a planet but it is

So when they are diagnosed they are sent home in NY state including NYC. And so it's made s remarkable difference in numbers.

The evaporation numbers are electronically recorded live in a databank

So dead bodies to dinosaurs and handle that nasty drama or evaporation and hands free and clean.

And as a doctor or nurse, "you are diagnosed with COVID-19. You will have an adventurous future. Please go home and enjoy your ride. Here's two prescriptions to help you on your life's journey"

I mean really. Try a little flavor.

"Bitch you gonna die yo! Here take this pill so you shut the fuck up while you dien' ain't no one wanna hear you yo! And push this down and suck when you be coughin like you dyin cause you will!!" I mean i Don't even care. What are they gonna do? Complain? When? They about to die. In case they do "I explained the medication use and how to and when to and I said the future is different than it is now. And i need a break. Care to join me away from this soon to be home individual?" now its only for now and i really don't recommend you to talk to someone like that except people like me, just wanna punch some fucking ass holes in the face.

Besides some people find that kind of interaction comical and they actually do prefer it to normal doctor talk. Its humbling. Some get upset like Denise.

And i just walked by Uncle Dad and he said to her when she borrowed $2000 from me and lied it was for bills but it was so she could go to Hawaii and she said "just between you and me i borrow this Don't tell dad" and she was talking about it because I walked by and he said "yeah Denise just between you and me You got a bloody broken nose"

Because he wanted me and my daughter to go. And she borrowed almost all my savings and i didn't have enough for 3 plane tickets to Hawaii when she already had $2,000 and 2 paychecks go in and had over $6000 of her own money on the trip after bills paid. So she had $8000...

And i couldn't go. She she got a busted nose. She was until 6 months ago assisted leader of Zulululu on Eaerth.

She insisted that Nathaniel try to initiate sex with me at that time and lost her rulership.

Because in reality she told him to rape me. That's what she fucking did.

Anyway point. If someone talks in a different manner to a COVID than usual. But isn't abusive as i was not abusive in the passage above i expect it to be excused and accepted and discontinued soon. As it is ONLY for COVID-19 activated and not carriers (which will only show up in DNA4U)

A lot of people The most strong people have been invaded by aliens. The strongest.

And we been beat down. Over and over.

I'm gonna pull out the NHRA because some of them kids are real special to me.

32% are human. 92% of the remaining percentage are alien. That's just the drivers.

72% of mechanics are human. 4% of the remaining are alien. (Cause they're fucking lazy -- not just an opinion)

The rest evil humans.

So of 600 drivers... Take 32 times 6 and you got some fucking number i ain't a calculstor but it's about 3x6 is 18 plus in the ones column 2x6 plus Yoir carry.

192 I'm assuming out of 600.

So that totally isn't right. 32% of drivers. 1/3 of 600 is 200

Fuck tree msn noe he says there's 900 drivers. Makes me laugh

So over 300... Why does the calculator say 288??

Why does this not work? 32% oh is not 33.333% it's less than im all thinking 30% is 1/3.

Fuxk math.

I'm sloppy in math. I have good humor about it tho and tree gets a good chuckle at me because I get so dumb about it. I was looking for 35% which is about 315.

See why Yall need 8 hours or more of restful sleep? Denise kept me up all night acting stupid screaming and then Nathaniel woke me up early worried about his livelihood. So i got me like 4 or 5 hours.

So 288 people surrounded by 900 people.

This is often the case then the remaining (i have a calculator here) 612 people try to drag down the 288 i can clearly see that they are outnumbered by over double

So that is a two on one unfair fight. Two not even being allowed to be on the fucking planet!!

And the one alone to stand or ball up to defend is nearly defenseless.

Then in the NHRA to make matters worse the aliens lie and manipulate to get their mechanics behind them.

So i developed a system that the driver team that wants to fight fights as a team and they have to pay real cash money starting at $10,000 that just goes up and up. If they intend to fight a human and Easter Egg occurs and the aliens that put up the bounty to warrior can't fight and must award all cash to the human ran team. Like Erica Enders.

And if she catches you talking shit after the cash award (usually a wire payment) and she will. She racks up fees and fines aka charges. Then she can beat the shit outta the alien team that has to stand there with their hands at their sides or in their pockets after the pockets are cleared by the awarded team and each person gets 5 hits to the face or ribs then the shit talker gets 10 from each team member from the human side.

Since 2013.

Aliens do not belong on Earth. Many of the drivers are the worst offenders of human trafficking which is why They are allowed in the NHRA so we can spy on them and is why rhe mechanics are so many humans.

Because by default humans hate aliens. Its just a distaste we are programmed and then we feel sorry for them for our programmed hate..

It is a very vicious cycle and very painful. Because we can't stand the way they act or dress or the way they're so fucking happy. And its because they lie and hide who they are from us and we feel it.

Thus the distaste

No matter how hard we try to like them and enjoy being with them the hiding and lying over and over of their true identity is terrible.

Queen hid from me her identity and I was all who the fuck are you? Like it wasn't like i would be rammed if i asked.

She said "pardon?"

And i was like oh shit and i got all red... And i was all oh im sorry I should not talk to her like that she's elder and proper! So i said "im sorry ma'am i was Just wondering who you were"

"Well I'm the fucking Queen!!"

I must had looked like a turnip by then all the blood rushing to my face to feed my brain.

"Of who?! What? Where?!"

"Of England" and she folded her hands in her lap on one side and looked all dignified.

Holy fucking shit who would thought?! Not me!

But an alien will lie "I'm just like you but ...." And never dignify themselves to say they are alien. And it is irritating.

When Queens or Kings don't announce themselves its full of mystery and wonder.

When an alien DOES then it's full of mystery and wonder.

When they don't it's absolutely full blown annoying.

Sometimes we can act like children and allow a person to follow us around and copy every move like the other kid doesn't know how to live. But there comes a point even a child will explode in temper.

They just don't fit on our planet!

Even Venus. Neptune and Mars when they transferred to human Because they earned the right by following the rules we still had to tweak their brains and look and so on.

Neptune looked like Ewoks. They were so fucking cute!!! I love Ewoks. I slept with one forever in my bed when i was a kid - a stuffed one from the store.. A fake non living one. I didn't know. I just felt a lot of love.

And i was being really abused by Denise and Nathaniel and i felt really better to,wake up to its cute little face. It was the one thing Denise didn't try to destroy because she knew the truth about them but she sure didn't tell me.

So although I have and the whole human race has a severe dislike and distaste for the alien race I did ensure that their deaths are one I would want for myself. For my children. For the proper Queen of England who can joke around and make my body feed my brain to keep me alive for one more day.

Something kind.

Evaporation is a slight accordion feeling mainly in the chest and then off they go.

So no one intended for Donald Trump to be running his mouth telling people not to listen to me

Simple bronchitis treatment then home to their families to discuss the ability to leave and when and where. And apparently there's a website you can organize yourselves on so you don't go alone.

I have tried every other way and it was unsuccessful.

I'm not destroying my own planet that was a gift because some aliens are fucking rude.

Im just gonna send their asses home as i should have done long ago.

Its not about being bitter or wanting revenge.

Simple fact is they don't belong here and they have their own home and their own Gods.

Its straining for their Gods to switch between their home and here.

Not my creation. Not my responsibility.

Not the nurses nor doctor nor military.

Not the mailmans nor Amazon's.

When yall voted for an American Revolutionary War 76% voted yes. Of the world wide population of nurses and doctors and health cate professionals 81.5% voted yes. Over 81% voted for a Revolution

So i expect no problems from now and the next 13 days.

24% of Y'all were probably aliens. Tree says... 16 and a half % which then leaves probably evil humans. Snd tree says yes.

So 100% of Humans says yes fuck this shit.

So y'all drink your grocery store wine. Have your cheese. Leave me some extra sharp cheddar but get you some too and get your ice cream. Buckle down and take your tests for money to buy all that. Don't pay no rent nor mortgage

We will talk to car loans i expect. Talk to your car loan providers. I don't want no dude towing your car cause he know it's at home and you didn't pay the monthly payment.

So use your DNA4U to pay your car loans and car insurance and get your food..

Don't be paying baggers online. I got a couple I follow here on Tumblr always a medical or food need. Go on the street corner and work for that yo.

They can get same as you to take a test

Get your student loans deferred.

If you have no DNA4U access and you did and you got an email saying why then you're leaving the planet So click the link and make your arrangements to get on your way.

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