#I forgot literally every other tag. pretend they're here.

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Twenty-Nine — Paper Trail

“We don’t know enough yet to make any assumptions.” Dr. Sims said cooly from the kitchen, like he himself was trying to hold back from demanding answers from the universe. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in the files today. If not, hopefully the tests will tell us something we missed.”

6k words | 30 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Illness, medical procedures [mentioned], racism, abuse, lore. so much lore.

⚠ AUTHOR'S NOTE: There are a lot of imbedded links on this chapter! Some are very low quality, as I had to work with what I could screenshot off of Youtube. If only SPP compiled their stuff in one place like a normal game company. Anyways enjoy!

I woke up to Dad sitting on the floor next to the couch, calling my name gently. “Jeanie, wake up,” he hummed. “C’mon, I made coffee.”

“Do I have to?” I grumbled, face still in the cushions. 

Dad and I had stayed up for nearly two hours after I had walked back into the house and talked about everything; the guilt, the anger, the truth. He wasn’t as mad at me as I thought he was—while he was upset, he didn’t blame me for it. Any of it. “Jean, you don’t know what to do o-or what’s going on,” he reassured me, “I can’t get upset at you for that. I just want you to be careful.” He wanted nothing more than for me to trust his judgment. And maybe I needed to; Dad knew what he was doing. I’d be safe if I listened to him, right? I had to trust him. 

But it was hard, when we both kept hiding things from each other. 

So I extended the olive branch first, and told him the truth; the pain in my back when I use my powers but how it eases when I’m in water. He listened intently to it all, simply nodding along. “I’ll tell Eugene in the morning,” he eventually decided, “We’ll figure it out, I promise,” 

Maybe it was wrong for me to not say anything about Mom as I was huddled into his chest, but I wasn’t sure I could get through that conversation without becoming a blubbering mess. And besides, maybe that was simply meant for me. No one else. 

The heart-to-heart led to us falling asleep on the couch, my head in Dad’s lap as he reclined back. Apparently I exhausted myself in my sobbing so much that I didn’t know Dad slipped away in the morning. Not until he woke me up at least. “Eugene needs to give you a look over and we…we need to talk to you about something too.”

That got me to turn to look at Dad through my curtain of hair. He was crouched holding two cups, Dr. Sims standing behind him with his arms crossed. 

This was gonna be fun. 

Dr. Sims assured me he knew enough basic medical care to know if I was okay. “Or at least, if something is wrong,” he added, looking me over. “Double majored while in college, I just never took the MCAT.”

I had no idea what that was, but nodded like I did as he checked my pulse, timing it against his watch. 

He looked over my scars, checked their stitches. The hole in my neck was barely touched but he at least seemed satisfied by how it looked under its clear wrapping, which I was beginning to think was just saran wrap taped down. “Your dad said it hurts when you use your powers?” he asked me, examining the scar on my side. It was settling into a nice purple, bright against my skin. 

“It’s — it’s not really a hurt,” I started, trying to downplay it. Dad was looking at me too intensely for me to be comfortable with just admitting the fact. “It’s almost like I feel sore when I do, in between my shoulderblades.”

Dr. Sims nodded, hand coming around to my back. “Right here?” He asked, pressing between my shoulder blades. My hand tensed around the coffee mug as I nodded, trying not to wince as he palpated the area.

“Yeah,” I eventually said. 

Dr. Sims hummed, moving his hand away from my back. “And does it hurt while you use your power, or after?” 

I shrugged. “Both? But it only hurts while I’m using it if I do it for a long time. Otherwise it’s usually this, like, twinge after.” 

He nodded, moving to the table to type out some notes on his open mini-laptop. Dad sat back down on the couch beside me, one hand staying wrapped around the coffee mug while the other came to wrap around me. 

I didn’t like that. He would give out affection often, sure, but holding? That usually came before bad news. 

Dr. Sims picked up his laptop and brought it close, sitting on my other side. “Jean, we got your test results back.” He began. 

My heart stopped. “Already?” I asked meekly. Dad’s arm pulled me a bit closer to his side as I slightly turned to face Dr. Sims better. 

Dr. Sims nodded. “I pulled some strings.” 

I waited a moment for him to continue. “So then…what did the results say?” I asked. I hated that he wouldn’t start explaining without my prompting. 

Dr. Sims looked at the computer. “Well, the good news is that there’s nothing wrong with you genetically,” he began. “In terms of chromosomal makeup, you and Brent look perfect.” 

I nodded slowly. “That’s…that’s good,” I glanced over my shoulder at Dad. “But then,” I looked back to Dr. Sims, “Why am I not healing?” 

Dad’s arm squeezed around me gently. “That’s where the bad news comes in.” He said softly. “You know how we took samples of the stuff on your leg?” 

“Yeah?” 

“The results came back abnormal,” Dr. Sims said. “We’re not sure what that means yet, though. Once we’re done here with Mr. Dunbar, I want to take you to the nearest Accredited hospital to do more tests.”

I had to suppress a groan. More tests. “What would — what’re you looking for?” I asked. 

Dad took over the conversation. “Well, answers. We now know Augustine’s tar, one hundred percent, is what’s making you sick. We just need to know how, and why.”

“Mr. Dunbar already got in contact with someone who can examine the tar for us. He just left to mail it. They’re in Boston, so it will take a day or two to get the sample there — but I know this person. She’d be able to uncover any secrets we wouldn’t be able to see.”

 “And we need to make sure you’re okay, too.” Dad added. “See if anything’s changed since the last time we took blood, check your scars. Your arm could probably use a check-up too.”

“And I want to examine your conducrine gland, with your report of pain,” Dr. Sims continued. “I want to take a quantification assay and make sure you’re making enough proteins, and double check that you’re not having any complications. Maybe an MRI.”

I nodded once. “Okay.” I said, like I wasn’t both confused and dreading everything.

“Until then, if you have any more pain, you tell us, okay?” Dad practically demanded. Dr. Sims got up from his spot on the couch to set his computer back on the table, grabbing his empty cup and heading to the counter to get more coffee. 

There was something I needed to know, though. “Did Mom’s com–conducrine gland ever hurt? When she was sick?”

I could feel Dad’s arm around me tense. “It did,” he said. 

“So it’s happening to me too? I thought my test results came back normal, genetically.” I looked at Dad. “If it happened to Mom too, then how…”

A shadow crossed over Dad’s face as he scowled. “We’re wondering the same.”

“We don’t know enough yet to make any assumptions.” Dr. Sims said cooly from the kitchen, like he himself was trying to hold back from demanding answers from the universe. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in the files today. If not, hopefully the tests will tell us something we missed.”

The hot cup did nothing to warm me as my blood ran cold. They both seemed angry at the idea that Mom had something put in her, too — and I didn’t like the fact that despite reassuring me they’re not sure what the cause could be, they both seemed settled on a reason to blame. 

Brent eventually stumbled downstairs looking refreshed after resting, which was a relief unlike any other as the image of his lifeless body began to lose its harsh edges in my mind’s eye. Dad managed to find and burn some eggs and turkey bacon as we waited for Zeke to return, and for a brief bit, it almost felt like I could pretend that everything was normal. That we were on some trip in a less-than-stellar rental and this was just breakfast after a night spent gaming or binging a movie series Dad insisted was fantastic. 

Imagining was all I could do to keep from dwelling on the what ifs. 

Zeke eventually came back — and then stepped back out, bringing in muddied ammo box after muddied ammo box. “They’re weather resistant,” he explained to Brent when he gave Zeke a bewildered look. “Which is needed when you live in a swamp. Good for hiding stuff.”

Dad crouched low and pulled his briefcase out from under the loveseat couch, saying, “I brought everything I could. Some stuff got damaged in Betty’s old storage unit, but I managed to salvage most of it.”

“Is that why you brought the briefcase?” Brent asked, glancing over at me. We had a bet going on what he was intending to do with it. “I thought you were just gonna start going back to work,”

Dad’s smile was half hearted. “Nope. Everything in here’s from my adventures,”

The way Dad sarcastically said adventures suggested it wasn’t the fun kind in the movies. 

Dr. Sims began working at his computers at the small table, the mini-laptop perched precariously on his lap as the other two shared the liminal space of the wood. Dad sat on the couch between Brent and I and opened up his briefcase, revealing a hell of random stuff; dozens of crumpled and folded pieces of paper, random little shreddings that almost looked like trash. There was some flier that was badly taped together and newspaper clippings, notes upon notes in Dad’s scratchy handwriting layered in margins of scrap paper and what almost looked like…

“Comics?” I blinked, pulling up the creased stacks of paper. “Did you make a comic?” 

I looked up at Dad in time to see him grimace. “No.” He said, flat. “Those were all clues some crazy killer left me while she tried to frame us all.” 

I looked back down at the artwork in my hands. “Oh.” 

“But there’s—“ Brent began flipping through the papers Dad shoved in his hands. “There’s DUP documents in this?” 

Dad shrugged. “I had to hack into their database to get some answers. She was Augustine’s favorite lackey.” 

“Always leads back to that bitch,” Brent murmured, glancing over at me. 

“Brent.” 

“Oh c’mon Dad, you can’t keep getting onto me about it,” 

“Help me organize all this,” Dad commanded, ignoring Brent completely. “I printed out everything I didn’t have a physical copy of so this is…it’s gonna be a lot.”

“How the hell are we supposed to organize this?” Brent asked, incredulous. 

“There’s serial numbers on them all,” Dad said, pointing to a row of one on a DUP document in Brent’s hand. “Find the connected files if you can.” 

“Delsin, come here for a second,” Dr. Sims said at the table. Dad promised to return and help but asked that we get a head start while he was going over something with Eugene.

The comic wasn’t really a traditional one, but almost some sort of manga; a story about a rabbit that lost her family in an attack, and was safeguarded by a large dragon before being locked away. The art style was immaculate, I had to admit — but I didn’t get how some story with a dragon was supposed to be a hint, unless this version of the Zodiac Killer was hiding some code in the shading. 

Brent nodded my way as I looked over the first page again. “What does that say?”

I shrugged. “Nothing much. Just a bunch of drawings.”

“I meant the back.”

“The—” I cut off, flipping the page. 

Death is just a passing phase. I’ve danced with demise, and let me tell you, he’s a bad dancer (always stepping on my toes). But I’ve learned to embrace the macabre — to navigate its twisted depths. Conduits and “normals” are at a crossroads, and if we don’t look both ways, we’ll all get run down. All I want — all I’ve ever wanted — is harmony between people.  Follow my lead and I’ll show you the trail of bodies. Seek out the corpses and you’ll find the truth decaying within. 

“...Oh.” I said meekly. This had to be what Dad was talking about. Some twisted manifesto by a serial killer. 

I flipped over the others, and each of them had something on their backs — some, notes, others, puzzles. “Hold on,” He said, leaning forward. He grabbed the second page of the manga. “‘If you’re trying to get into the DUP, I’ve been there. In fact, I died there.’” He read off. “Look, there’s that serial number thing Dad was talking about.” 

I read off the row of numbers. “Do you have this file? Starts with, uh—” I glanced down again, “3485?”

Brent muttered the number to himself again and again as he flipped through the pages in his hand. “Here,” he finally said, pulling one out from the middle of the pile. It was a statement issued by Brooke Augustine herself on the death of a Conduit detained at Curdun Cay in a death by a thousand paper cuts — literally. Suicide by dozens of cuts created by paper doves. “Jesus Christ,” I murmured, imagining the pain. I read over the memorandum again, pointing to its first sentence, “There’s a number here, do you have a file for that one?” I asked Brent, “Ends in 2606,” 

“I was just looking at that,” He said. “Fuckin’ — here. Some girl named Celia.” He looked over to Dad, who was behind Dr. Sims, reading something on a screen. “Who was Celia?” 

“Paper conduit?” I asked, incredulous. She could control paper! Or, did — at least with enough control to kill herself. 

Dad glanced over. “She’s the one that made those drawings.”

I blinked. “Guessing she also did the murders?”

“Yep.”

“How’d she get out?” Brent asked. “This says she died,”

Dad breathed deeply, Dr. Sims waving him off and letting him return to our side. “Augustine faked her death to sneak her out of Curdun Cay. Killed some random guard."

“But why?” I asked, looking up from the row of manga strips.

Dad didn’t answer — not at first, at least. He sighed deeply before reaching into the briefcase for a manila folder, opening it and peeking past the flap to check its contents. He nodded once before reaching in to start pulling out photocopies of pictures, laying them out facing us. 

“Jesus,” Brent muttered.

I wasn’t prepared for it to be 90% bodies and death, of someone pinned to a billboard or being held against a wall by dozens of paper doves, bloodied and beaten and dead. “I need you both to look at this,” Dad said, looking up at us with a serious expression. There was barely any emotion in his face now, eyes peering at us like we were on the stand. “Augustine and Celia did this to keep up the narrative. Killed people that had ties to your mom and Eugene to make it look like it was them seeking revenge.” He leaned forward slightly. “And Archangel bombed COLE to try and get me to show myself. There are people out there that will see you as nothing more than a chance to hurt someone else. Nothing more than something to keep the story going. These are the kind of people I’m trying to keep from hurting you.” He looked between Brent and I. “Do you understand?” 

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes to peel away from the imagery of death and look somewhere, anywhere else. I wasn’t prepared for that. Bodies. A path painted in bloodshed long before I even had the chance to walk it, and littered with fresher meat for the sacrifice of someone else's cause. It felt so hopeless; was this really all there was? All there could be?

Looking away wasn’t a good idea, because my eyes moved from casualty to casualty as they landed on a picture of Mom next to some detective agency’s logo. 

My hand was moving to pick up the file before I could even blink, bringing the black and white photocopy close to my face. I swear, if I concentrated hard enough, I could make her eyes move, almost see how she would bring her chin up and cock her head to the side like she did in the hallucination. 

And this time, I wasn’t too sad while looking at the picture. Zeke was right; was it wrong to treat it as a fact even if there was a good chance it wasn’t? Maybe it was better, knowing the hallucination was just that and yet still being able to be a bit indulgent. 

I forced my eyes off of Mom’s photo to the blurb under it, reading through the information this random detective agency had. “Wait,” I murmured, rereading a single line again and again. “Dad? This thing says Mom’s parents wanted to…wanted to talk to her again.”

Brent’s head snapped around to look at me. “What?” He demanded, snatching the page out of my hand and swatting me away when I tried to take it back. “Holy shit, that’s Mom,”

Dad meanwhile did nothing more than sigh hard. “We did hear from her parents. Shortly after we did the whole gender reveal thing.” His jaw tightened at the memory. “It didn’t go well.”

Brent lowered the page, brow knitting closer together as he looked up at Dad. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

I put down the manga drawings in my hands, giving Dad my full attention too. I had always wondered, if we had a mom, where her side of the family was. I understood Dad was an orphan, he never shied away from that fact; but he never elaborated much on Mom except that her brother passed. I never found the courage to ask about grandparents on that side, either. Brent had once, and the scowl was enough to make me realize it was something he never intended answering. 

Until now. “We had met somewhere in downtown Seattle, which was probably the first mistake. They both didn’t want to be in such a liberal area, and it didn’t help that Lifeline was protesting a lot more after the mass Curdun Cay release. Your mom was still on trial for her murders—”

“While pregnant?” Brent asked, eyes widening. 

Dad shrugged. “All of us were. You think they were gonna let all of us go without a fight? There’s a reason the Akurans found your mom so easily.” He inhaled hard, trying to bleed the anger out of his voice. “They weren’t happy about the publicity of the trial. Add that on top of your mom having children with someone that wasn’t white, and the fact that they refused to apologize for turning Abbs in to the DUP and…well, why keep them around?”

“Jeez,” I hummed, glancing back down at the page in Brent’s hand, Mom’s face staring back at me upside down. I couldn’t think of much else to say but that, other than wishing I could’ve somehow supported Mom during that time. Her parents wouldn’t even say sorry for giving her away to the government!

Brent could form more words than me. “None of the shit she went through would have happened if they didn’t try to sell her in the first place,”  He bit, angry at their audacity. 

Dad nodded. “You would think they’d feel bad after everything that started coming out about Curdun Cay — the experiments and all that. But these are the same people Abbs told me didn’t think conversion therapy was a bad thing, so I guess they just saw it as another form of that.”

“Assholes.” Brent spit. 

Dad didn’t reprimand him that time. 

“Let’s just go through these files.” He finally decided. “Jean, get together all the F.A.N numbers from the back of those drawings. Brent, start throwing things in piles by person or facility or whatever.”

I snuck a chance at reading more of the manga as I scribbled down everything I found on a torn bill envelope Zeke passed over to me; it was Celia’s life story, pieced together by the files and clues connected to it. A girl who lost everything like so many others right here in New Marais before being found by a dragon and locked away in some cells carved into the side of a mountain. There was imagery of the child rabbit being torn in half as a being more sleek and pure colored rabbit, which I had to guess had to be her ‘death’ and rebirth, if the note on the back was anything to go by. In fact, I died there. 

It never showed how she escaped, but the next page did show three others as they rushed away from the dozens of wyvern pursuing them — it took me longer than I’d admit to realize who they were. The next page spoke the representation clearly though; ‘Inazuma…vengeance now her drug of choice.’ The peahen was slaying shady looking shrews with needles slinging away from their hands. 

Mom. 

The next page featured a rooster named Ushinatta who had ‘went back to playing games’, the rooster opening its huge wings and calling down hens to peck at some bullies. That had to be Dr. Sims. 

There was a third guy, though, that I realized I didn’t know. 

Kemuri. Some sort of lizard…or maybe a gecko? “Who swore he’d never harm anyone” the page read as the gecko attacked a caravan driven by an elephant. There were three people that escaped that van, weren’t there? Mom, Dr. Sims…and someone else. 

I lifted my head and was about to ask Dad when Brent said, “Here, this dude matches the drawing,” under his breath, handing me another DUP file. An incident report, in fact:

Despite our best efforts to isolate the detainees in as safe and thorough a manner as possible, two ward-mates developed a relationship that threatened to undermine the careful work being done with both: inmate 007-3171-8404 began looking out for 056-7339-2606, warding off any bullies and establishing a friendship.  RESOLUTION: Inmate 007-3171-8404 was relocated to the maximum-security ward, due to his history of escape attempts and insurrection.  Monitoring of inmate 056-7339-2606 has been increased ever since she used her daily paper privilege to create the attached image:

A full body drawing of the gecko was photo scanned with the DUP file, creased lines doing nothing to hinder the artwork.

My new friend was taken away today, the words under it read, It was my fault, I’m sure. I was just trying to be nice…just like he was nice to me. He told me I reminded him of his daughter. And now, just like my real parents— He’s gone. 

“You got anything on this 8404 inmate?” I asked Brent. Dad was busy organizing a bunch of little tags, not even registering that we were talking. 

Brent’s side of the floor looked way more organized than mine; perfect piles of paper with shredded clippings on top of each one, numbers or names scribbled on top. “Yeah, uh—” Brent’s eyes scanned the piles in front of him before he reached out, snatching the page away so fast that the clipping on top of it fluttered off somewhere. “Here. You plan on organizing the comic thing, by the way?”

“Fuck off,” I murmured, nearly laughing when Brent’s head snapped towards Dad as he waited for the reprimand, and balked when he saw it wasn’t coming. I stuck my tongue out at Brent before looking at the inmate file, trying to keep my snickering as quiet as possible. 

Hank Daughtry. Apparently some guy that was a criminal before puberty, who’d rob or break out of jail every chance he got — but never harmed a civilian when he did. Curdun Cay was the first place to keep him in place. At least, till that military vehicle.

The power section, though, held all of the answers I needed; he could wield smoke. Embers and fire, too, if the paper was to be believed. I could hear the echoes of Dad’s voice in the back of my head: “She thought the guy I got smoke from told me about her plan — the breakout and DUP funding, all that.” 

Betty had said Dad helped bring down her warehouse when he first got his powers. The first power. Smoke. 

But that didn’t explain why Dad was so quiet about this guy. Why, before this moment, I had never heard of him. “Dad?” I asked. 

He tore his eyes away from the newspaper clipping in his hands. “What’s up?”

“What happened to this Hank guy? You know, after Seattle?” I glanced down at the file again — there wasn’t even a picture of the inmate on this one. There was a wall of blacked out text at the bottom of the file, though. “Did he not help you guys?”

Behind Dad, Dr. Sims stopped typing, looking over to where we sat. Even Brent stopped to see what Dad was gonna say. 

“He didn’t.” Dad said simply, jaw clenched. “It was just me, Eugene and your mom that took on Augustine.”

Brent blinked. “What, did he not want to?”

“I wouldn’t have let him if he did. He was a piece of shit, anyways.”

I glanced down at the inmate file; moral code, immense self discipline. Whatever issue Dad had with him sure didn’t seem to match the document. “What happened to him?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

Dad’s voice bit with a ferocity that wasn’t usual from him unless we were in trouble. “I mean,” I scrambled to say, the tone activating the fear of getting grounded in me, “I guess not? I was just wonder—”

“Then there you go. It doesn’t matter.” Dad inhaled deeply before continuing, “If Daughtry’s files don’t have anything useful in them, then do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Throw them in the trash.” Dad said flatly, moving to get up. He left towards the kitchen where Zeke was messing with the discarded stuff from another ammo box, roughly grabbing the stale pot of coffee to pour a cup and drink it black in one go like it was a shot. 

I looked over at Brent, bewildered, who was already turning back to face me with his eyebrows shot up so high they were close to disappearing into his unkempt hair. He mouthed What the fuck? at me and all I could do is shrug, taking the rest of the papers in Daughtry’s pile to look over. May as well double check them before they became landfill food. 

Not that there was much left in his pile; There were three more pages with no more than three paragraphs on the largest one, each following reports of Daughtry possibly being seen somewhere in Seattle after he broke out blowing up cars in an attempt to assassinate that asshole senator who was caught years ago saying something about how Hitlers policies at least were keeping people safe in that leaked audiofile as he admitted to trying to replicate them for Conduits. 

One of the bullet points on the results of the DUP’s investigation caught my eye, though: no residual signs of Ray Sphere radiation detected. Radiation? Why would there be radiation in the middle of downtown Seattle? “Does anyone know what ray — Ray Sphere radiation is?” I asked the room.

Over in the kitchen, Zeke’s head popped up, looking to Dad for a moment. Whatever he was trying to ask, Dad gave him permission with a shrug of his shoulders. “The Blast in Empire City was from a Ray Sphere.” Zeke began. He took a moment to dig in a box before pulling out one of those leather journals that always looked a little too light brown to be real, brass metal corners of the journal catching the light as Zeke flipped it open. “The First Sons made it.”

He began walking towards us with the journal as he flipped through pages, humming when he landed on what he wanted to show us. “Here. Journal’s useless in some spots ‘cause it’s written in code, but this is what the thing looked like.”

He flipped the journal over and held it out for me to take; the page was a sketch, one side full of components, the other what they all looked like pulled together into one device. 

Brent snorted beside me when he scooted over to look at it, and I knew it was because we were thinking the same thing. “It’s shaped like a Death Star,” He said humorously, looking at me with an eyebrow raised. 

“Just as powerful, too.” Zeke responded. “Thing blew up six blocks and killed thousands.”

That shut Brent up real fast. 

“But I don’t—” I cut off, looking down at the drawing. The etchings beside each piece were all code, the only one highlighted being a jagged piece of rock. “Why would the DUP look for Ray Sphere radiation at an explosion site? Unless they thought someone was trying to take out Seattle.”

Dr. Sims moved off of the barstool, walking over. “May I?” he asked me, giving a nod of thanks when I handed the journal over. He perused the page and then looked at Zeke. “Where did you get this?”

“It was Wolfe’s,” Zeke answered.

That one word was enough to make Dad’s head snap up, and he turned around. “Raymond Wolfe?” He asked. 

Zeke shook his head. “Sebastian, his brother.”

“Oh,” Dad said flatly. “The First Sons scientist. Great,”

Zeke shrugged, gracefully brushing off Dad’s disapproval. “Hey man, sometimes you have to be willing to drink the poison if it means you find out how it would kill someone. We used this to figure out how the RFI worked.”

Dr. Sims flipped through the next few pages, eyes lighting up. “I know this code,” he murmured, before looking up at Dad and Zeke and repeating the words. “I know this code — it was in one of the DUP files I stole. I could decode this journal,”

“Y’think it would have anything that would help us in it?” Dad asked. 

Zeke looked over his shoulder. “Wolfe was the First Son’s top scientist. If there’s anyone that might have information, it would have been him.” Zeke shrugged. “I reckon it’s worth a shot.”

Dr. Sims snapped the journal shut, nodding. “I’ll move upstairs to the spare room, I’m going to need the space.” He said decisively. Each laptop was put in rest mode and shut, stored away at a speed I didn’t know what possible out of someone so lanky. “D, come get me if you all make any progress down here, okay?”

Dad looked at Zeke. “Do you still have the stuff from the runaround with Wolfe?” 

Zeke turned to face Dad fully, watching Dr. Sims disappear up the stairs. “No, I gave it all to Alessia. She might still have it, if we’re lucky.”

Both Brent and my head shot up. “Wait, like, Aunt Sia?” I asked, looking at Dad.

Alessia was known to the world as the chairwoman of COLE and an old ringleader of Project Sanctuary, the nationwide underground anti-DUP movement. In those seven years the DUP had control and were hunting down Conduits to bag and tag, Alessia was trying to sneak Conduits over the border, stage protests, and…well, give the DUP a hard time. If it involved picketing or slashing tires, she was there, coordinating the attacks. 

We didn’t know her as that woman for the longest time, though. To us, she was Aunt Sia; the woman who would watch us when Dad had to go take an exam while he was in school, or needed a break. A babysitter that cared so much about us. The cool lady who brought these fancy Japanese candies every time she’d come over and would take us to things like renaissance faires. I remember her teaching Dad how to braid my hair and making huge masterpieces out of legos with Brent, indulging me by declaring every little drawing I made a masterpiece. She had moved away six or seven years ago and we really only got to see her when there was some big COLE event near Portland. 

But I was surprised to find out that she knew Dad as Delsin and not just Damion.

Dad’s eyes wandered off as he thought. “I…I could call her, see if she still has anything from then.” Eyes snapping back to Zeke, he added, “You’d have to show me how to make calls with your setup, though,” 

“‘Course, it’s in my shed. C’mon, I’ll show ya,”

Zeke was heading towards the door with Dad hot on his heels, who only stopped in its frame to turn to Brent and I and say, “Take any notes on anything you don’t understand, okay? Maybe we’ll figure something out.”

He was gone before we responded. 

“You think this was what he did the whole time?” Brent asked, looking at me and holding up the stack of files he hadn’t gone through yet. “Just reading files and shit?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know. Last I heard he was attacking innocent civilians and killing random passersby.”

Brent rolled his eyes. “How he dealt with all of this without killing someone, I’ll never understand.”

We worked in silence for a while, me taking the time to finish the story and begin to piece it to its pieces of evidence; Saisei had found a new friend, a bird with two heads, and it wasn’t hard to make the connection on who that was supposed to represent. He would tell her stories, and they would laugh for hours on end, the page said, largely contrasting the story Dad had told us. It had to be some sort of mockery thing; I send you running around, and you try to figure out why I’m a psycho. What a laugh! 

But the dragon came down, disapproving of their banter. I fail to see the humor, it said, to which the two-headed representation of Dad replied look harder before beginning to fight her. The personification of Augustine. An epic battle of good and evil…but the roles were debatable the page read, like I was supposed to sympathize with Augustine as she fell to Dad’s talons. 

I wasn’t ready to read the little bunny call Augustine’s character Mama. 

“Look at this shit,” Brent murmured, handing me a page. It was an email log between two people. “Does this make sense to you?” 

It made a lot of sense, too much sense, as I read the first message title: Purotekutā to me (“Saisei”).

I explained the comic to Brent as we reread the email chains together, the pieces of the truth falling in place. “Augustine asked her to stay in the shadows, that she can’t protect Celia.” I looked at Brent, bewildered. “D’you think she adopted Celia? Like, as her own kid?”

“Well she calls Augustine Mama in this thing—” he waved around the stack of stapled manga, “So I’m guessing so. Or whatever fucked up version of ‘family’ they were playing up there in Curdun Cay,”

“‘You have done everything I asked and more, but unless he can be controlled, Delsin is our enemy.’” I read from the email chain. “‘He is blinded by his power, he thinks he’s invincible. But without walls, without his brother, who will protect him?’” 

Brent scoffed. “What a bitch. I should have killed her when we were fighting in the Sound.”

“Think that’s crazy, you should read the last entry on this thing.” I said, offering the paper with the email chain. “Celia messages Augustine saying something about needing to know whose purpose was stronger and that’s why she didn’t try to help her.”

Brent shrugged, taking it. “Raise a lunatic, and don’t be surprised when you’re eventually their victim.”

“Augustine really made everyone her pawn,” I hummed. “Mom, Dr. Sims, this chick. How much of it do you think was to protect Conduits?”

“Not enough, considering she lost.” Brent huffed.

[motherflecker]

that episode got me so overwhelmed i had to go watch something else and take a walk before i could sit down and write out my thoughts, my god. anyway, here's some thoughts, chronologically.

the way they had the time behind akk's head was stylish. this show is so stylish. and dumb. so dumb. also, someone needs to slap each ambassador individually at least once. maybe multiple times for phupha and wayo. i volunteer.

i love the implication that akk and theo just RAN AWAY. that's my headcanon now, that's why they were running, theo just bolted and akk followed. no one can convince me otherwise. everything about akk in this scene was very, very funny. the way he forgot what the louvre was called.

actually, that's one thing i appreciate about this show -- they make it very clear that akk is like, the boy next door. he cares about his sisters and photography and that kind of stuff but he never thought in a more globetrotting sense. he has no reason to know what the louvre is or remember that oxford is in england. why would he? though that said, incredibly charming that he demanded theo take him to france and joked about buying tickets. if i'm gonna be real soft about it, the boy is just trying to connect more with theo when all these four weirdos show up, speaking french, and knowing about that side of theo more than akk can. my boys!

akk getting punished for putting up all the flyers by being forced to take them down. i love the continuity here and akk continuing to be best dumb boy. this is also the scene that put wayo on my shitlist. i do not trust this sports boy at all. he can barely even PRETEND he actually likes theo, what a tool.

theo sulking and watching for akk's bedroom light. man, the amount of time these boys spend looking for the other one is incredible. they're always so aware of each other, wtf. i'm emotional.

akk thinking "i'm gonna help cheer theo up!" then immediately proceeds to get the shit kicked out of him by theo. my man was not holding back on those punches. this was not how akk pictured his night going and you know it. then going home and that soft stupid smile at the plane and his utter faith in theo??? after playing it cool when theo asked if he believed in him?? god, akk loves theo so utterly and fully, i'm gonna scream.

now the ep is just SCHEMES ON SCHEMES ON SCHEMES. the only thing that would have made all of akk and theo's attempts to get the handwriting better would be if yakety sax was playing in the background. there was one brain cell in these scenes and neither akk and theo had it. (it went to saifa, obviously.) what these scenes proved beyond the fact that akk and theo are complete morons, is that they have so much stupid chemistry. god. all their little moments. literally this entire episode was just "hey, you know how akk and theo are the best when they're together? here's more proof of that." they're so good for each other.

when this show is over i want a compilation of akk and theo just standing places and looking aesthetically pleasing. the amount of times they stand in WIDE OPEN PLACES, shoulder to shoulder, pressed up against each other, and talking about something completely idiotic. i love it, i love them.

JIMMY. i was like oh why aren't they showing p'sun's face BUT THEN THEY DID AND IT'S JIMMY. i knew he was on the cast list but we didn't see him until now. my utter trust in sun vs my utter distrust in wai. the duality.

now it's akk's turn to look through his window for theo. i'm glad they both had looking through the window for the other one and Pining scenes in this ep. good for them. egg giving akk the binoculars was fucking funny tho, for real. akk's GENUINE MOMENT OF CONSIDERATION when thinking about using them made it even more funny. what a tag team of dumb.

ZINE FAIR. i really liked how it was a lot of montage moments showing akk and theo in their natural habitat of being utterly stupid together. i hope every single ambassador watched their natural chemistry and got jealous. ESPECIALLY YOU, PHUPHA. THEO WILL NEVER LOVE YOU.

wayo taking the wood from theo is especially hilarious when it's trying to paint theo as this delicate flower. except akk knows theo isn't bc theo beat the shit out of him only a day or two ago. akk in the background probably thinking about all the bruises he has from this man and that he can just CARRY SOME WOOD in return. akk very loudly talking shit about wayo after he leaves and being called out for it, with theo covering his mouth was so fucking funny. i'm glad they just address how fucking loud akk is, especially when he talks shit. this boy is not subtle about anything, ever.

our obligatory oishi scene. things that made me laugh: the way force accidentally covered the label with his hand and you can see they had to shoot it a few times bc the drink is empty by the time they cut to him drinking it. you can tell they're new to the obligatory oishi moment. next time, boys. you'll be as smooth about it as the rest of the gmmtv lads eventually.

"you just wanted to bicker" and akk not even denying it. akk and theo's love language is a fight. i love them.

theo not realizing akk finished the drink and trying to drink anyway. then giving him the middle finger. true love.

everything about the ambassadors telling their favorite stories was funny and i'll hear no disagreement. that was so over the top and ridiculous. and we got naked fluke as a treat.

also lowkey, saifa/tan? saifa/tan.

the INTENSE DISCOMFORT that radiates anytime phupha interrupts akk and theo's little bubble. the way every moment around him hurts akk but while he'll go quiet, he won't leave bc what if theo needs him. i'm going crazy here.

phupha's insistence that he's enchante is a lot. i'm getting the feeling he has a BIG reason for trying to get on theo's good side and i think it has to do with his mom. the BTS video from before the show talked a lot about his mom and implied she's kind of abusive to him so i'm really curious. man, theo would just help phupha if he came to him honestly about whatever he's trying to get out of him. looks like next week we'll learn more about phupha's intentions based on the preview.

the end of that episode was just a lot of [AKK RADIATES UNHAPPINESS IN THE CORNER] after an ep where it was just akk and theo the chaotic duo. makes me sad. the moment theo was left alone with phupha, i was just like NO HE'S GONNA LIE, YOU NEED A WITNESS. don't leave that boy alone with him, damnit. still, i think theo is more savvy than he lets on and i don't think he's entirely believing phupha either. just don't like phupha's insistence on getting theo alone (to manipulate him!!!!!!!)

the preview for next week was a lot. i hope akk chasing after theo's car was just them being clowns again and not something that's going to send me into a WORLD OF PAIN, considering theo's insistence akk always comes with him to school. also the rain/movie date??? bro?? romantic movies??? how are you going to play this as platonic at all?? i'm not ready

[anystalker707]

Spicy horror

Pairing: Frank x [fem] Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place. Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral

Requested by @thisisjustforrequestingfanfics (can't tag you, sorry hhh my T*mblr is acting weird)

a/n - I'm sorry that I coudn't proofread, I might do it soon; I was supposed to be asleep rn

"You're just annoying, old man," I tease with a grin. "But don't whine or else you'll ruin the makeup!" I continue spreading the white concealer over his face, careful to get it on the corners around his nose and around his eye, though not to irritate his eyes.

"No, fuck you," Frank groans, his face twitching to suppress any expression. "Why can't we watch it again tonight? They're the best movies! And stop calling me old man, it's just my birthday! I'm not decomposing or anything!" Despite his words, he smiles, opening his eyes once I pull away, leaning back against the chair of the desk – I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I agree." I grab the eyeshadow palette from the desk and move closer to him again. "TCM is a great series and all, but can we not watch it for a single week? It's your birthday and we can watch literally any horror movie! And it can be special, like, not something we've watched a thousand times already to the point we already know most of the lines." I glare before motioning for him to close his eyes.

Frank sighs grumpily, leaning his head back. "What are you planning on, then? Alien? Jaws?" He lets out a weird cry when I slap the side of his head lightly, though he is soon chuckling.

"And then you complain when I say how annoying you are!" I spread the dark eyeshadow over his eyes, humming. "It's been a while since we've watched The Howling, Evil Dead, House of Wax. I mean, 'm not gonna complain if we decide on Alien and Jaws either." He hums, pouting. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite old man." I press a kiss to his head.

"I hate you," he laughs.

After a little bit of fake blood and retouching on my makeup, the two of us are leaving Frank's house to go to school, waving his mother goodbye. We don't look like what most of the kids will go dressed up as – not putting enough effort nor choosing the same themes as the jocks and popular people and not invisible enough just to throw on whatever in a black theme. Frank looks like a chill vampire with Bela Lugosi's Dracula references, though still looking like a punk, while I decided on one of my favorite characters. Nothing too extra, but still in the vibe.

"You look ridiculous with that hair slicked back." I kick one of the pebbles on the sidewalk. "I prefer the hedgehog or whatever it is in the normal state."

"I honestly feel like I could kill someone just from biting their jugular off." He grins, throwing his nose in the air – I can't help but to chuckle; he's adorable. "But not gonna be anyone from school, they're not worth it neither their blood would taste good." He twists his mouth. "I feel like most I'd get would be booze, botox and steroids."

"Damn," I snort, "awfully accurate. You're gonna starve, sorry."

Frank pouts, looking down, but a smirk soon tugs on his lips as he takes a step closer. "But you're not that bad, baby, you know?"

"Oh, fuck off!" I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "You just want to get in my jugular!"

Both of us burst out in chuckles and our conversation eventually dies down when we walk past the gates to inside the school, replaced by jokes at other people's costumes, sometimes needing to hold onto each other from laughter.

We walk into the first class, already a bit late, but all it does is to attract everyone's attention the moment we step in.

"Ridiculous, as always," some girl mutters under her breath. Funny.

Frank wraps a hand around the length of the coat to stupidly bring it to cover the lower part of his face, looking around with narrowed eyes then wide ones. "I smell not just a lot of blood here," he says in a low and raspy voice, "but also stupidity!" He points at the girl judgingly, making her twist her mouth disgusted.

"I hope Freddy Krueger visits you tonight," I say when walking past her, patting her shoulder. A scream comes from her when noticing the fake blood stain I leave behind on her white outfit, having Frank and I chuckling on our way to the back.

No one really pays attention to the classes – it's Halloween, we're even in stupid clothes and anxious for whatever is going to happen later in the day, so the teacher doesn't even bother scolding Frank and I for talking nonstop in the back of the classroom. To be honest, I think only the goody two shoes are actually doing something, sometimes turning around to glare at the others.

"Okay, okay, shut up for a minute!" I tell Frank, taking a look at the messy words over my notebook to check if I forgot to write something down. "We've got The Howling, Alien, Evil Dead, House of Wax, Dawn of the Dead, Funhouse, Pumpkinhead..."

"Fright Night," Frank continues, "Opera, Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw–"

"I said no TCM! Fuck you," I curse, rushing to write everything down, crossing out TCM when I accidentaly write it down.

"Friday the 13th, Poltergeist, Near Dark and Elm Street," he finishes, glaring at me. He hits my shoulder, not enough to hurt. "I'll make you watch TCM with me until you have memorized every single frame of it!"

"Your TCM phase will have died down by then!" I twist my mouth bitterly. "Sorry to kill the hype, baby!" I throw my nose in the air with a chuckle at his sulky manners. He furrows his eyebrows, sucking in a breath for words he never really gets to say. "And we still got to watch all these goth movies and shows lying around! Do you think it was easy finding the 60s Addams family show on DVD? Or that one Frankenstein version on cassette." Okay, the last one was easy to find in a yard sale, but still, it was just luck.

"Okay, mommy, please just don't punish me," Frank says with a groan and a fake moan. I stare at him as he's not able to contain his laughter before starting to hit him with the notebook.

"Too bad you're not a good boy, hun."

For once, school ends up actually being nice and just because Frank and I were getting in the character sometimes and pissing people off. By lunch, he had pulled on some sunglasses and looked like the stupidest fucker while eating his sandwich and smudging more of the lipstick and fake blood around his lips. At some point, we had pretended to have a fight and pierce the other's chest with a pair of scissors just to squeeze a bag of fake blood at whoever walked by – mostly some of the jocks or plastics. So much fun.

The house is quiet when we arrive back at it, a couple hours after school ended, and we find out, later, a note from Frank's mom apologizing she can't be here during the rest of his birthday, though she's sure he'll have fun with me.

"Imma take a shower," I sigh, pointing upstairs.

"Sure," he hums, looking up from the note for a moment to smile at me.

Thankfully, I always leave some clothes at Frank's place because I'm here far too often and not always have the chance or disposition to go back home and grab some clothes. It doesn't prevent me from stealing his hoodie, however, and walking out of the bathroom without all of that sticky makeup or fake blood is the best thing ever. Later, Frank is the one to go take a shower while I take care of the food he had already started to prepare.

"Much better!" I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Frank with his hair back to normal and only a bit of black makeup smudges the underside of his eyes now.

"Y'know, I never said a single thing about how you looked," he mutters with his brow low, coming to lean against the counter, next to me, "still, you've been attacking me every chance you got!"

"Does it offend you?" I smile.

"No, but it still hurts!" He sniffles, a hand flat against his chest. "I know I'm too badass for you to handle, but you don't need to let it be that clear!"

I look at him from head to foot. "I hate you, y'know that?"

"Love you too, hun!" He grins and moves closer, cupping my face exaggeratedly to peck my cheek before we head upstairs with everything we need.

We turn the lights on to organize everything, soon sitting down against a pile of pillows and with food surrounding us, though most of it is on the bedside tables since Frank, mainly, gets extremely uncomfortable with it falling on the bed. It doesn't matter, though, since the food and half empty cans end up going forgotten halfway through the movie at the same time the chatter dies down and we watch The Evil Dead as if it was the first time.

Some funny part comes on – well, not exactly funny, but enough to make us chuckle quietly – and brings us back to reality, sighing and glancing at each other, adjusting our postures as we'd slid down the pillows.

Frank yawns.

"Already tired?" I tease, poking his shoulder.

"No." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Getting tired is for losers." He does glance at the clock on his bedside table, however, and the red glowing numbers say it's six something.

"You're my favorite loser, then." I smirk lightly, exhaling.

Frank's eyebrows knit together as he looks at me, but then rolls his eyes. "Well, duh, of course I am! Who else? I'm the best." He scoots closer until his head is leaning on my shoulder and I can't help but to smile.

"No, I am," I groan, arms wrapped around him.

"I am!" He glares and, at some point, we end up in a wrestling match, pushing each other around the mattress among laughter and curses, which comes to a stop when we start getting too tired and I just let Frank lie down on top of me, head on my chest, still watching the movie. "Do you like anyone, (y/n)?" he asks suddenly. "Like, got a crush?"

Random. Why does he want to know? I mean, I do have a crush, but telling him about it is difficult.

"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" I blink, startled when he suddenly brings himself up on his elbows to stare at me.

"I swear to God I'll hunt them down if you forget about me because of them, do you understand?" Frank presses his forehead to mine. "You're the only one I got, sometimes I'm so worried you'll even leave me for whatever reason."

"What?" I breathe a chuckle, though there's not exactly anything funny here. "Never in my right mind would I do that! And you can't hunt my crush down if my crush is actually you," I laugh in a sudden rush of confidence, which wears out awfully quickly, leaving me lying there and rethinking every life choice.

"Me?" Frank widens his eyes. At the lack of answer, he takes a hold of my collar, straddling my hips. "Did I hear it right? Please, (y/n), (n/n), soulmate? I'm your goddamn crush? For how long?"

I shake my head lightly, shrugging. "Months? A long time."

"And you just told me now?" He cries, forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Slow motherfucker."

"I didn't want you to leave me either, c'mon!" I sigh in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "I remember that time a girl confessed to you and you'd simply vanish whenever she showed up. What if that was with me? I'd not be able to live like this, y'know that."

"Y'know, yeah, seeing it from that point..." Frank shrugs, bringing himself up to face me again. "Still, I wouldn't avoid you like that! Dunno, but it doesn't matter now because you just relieved me of months of suffering. Looking at these pretty lips without being able to kiss it." He furrows his eyebrows, eyes on my lips. "Can I kiss you, tho? Now that we feel stupid for all these months. Damn. At least I feel."

I breathe a chuckle. "Of course! Do you think I wasn't dying to do it either?"

Next thing I know are Frank's lips pressed against mine softly, soon growing firm with confidence. His fingers run along my neck lightly, in a caring manner, dropping to trace my collarbones.

"Also," Frank breathes, pulling away; his face never moves farther than a couple of inches whilst he adjusts his position, lying down beside me on the mattress. "Maybe it's wrong to say and I've always tried to say it in a subtle manner, but–" his eyes meet mine, "–you've got the body of a goddess! Like, dunno, sometimes you comment about not having an 'ideal', skinny body, but you're just so perfect," he groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"Frank!" I tap on his back lightly. It's not that I don't like what he said – no, damn, it sends my heart fluttering, this warmth taking over my chest –, but is it really the truth? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to tell me this.

"No, I'm telling the truth!" Frank grins. "Like, your thighs and all. I just want to squeeze and bite you! Not in a bad way, I mean." I must give him a funny look because of how flustered he grows, tongue playing with his lip ring as he looks away. "There's a lot to unpack, fuck, I thought it was obvious how I always sit there gazing at you and shit, but..."

"Likewise." I glare playfully, making him chuckle.

"Y'know–" Frank smiles lazily, "–this is the best birthday I've ever had, by far." He brushes his lips against mine softly, watching me through half lidded eyes. "Never knew you'd actually like me back. Never believed it was possible, to be honest."

"I never cogitated you like me," I breathe.

"Well, okay," he says, "we've already gotten through this. I think we should focus on now."

"I'm not the one who keeps bringing back past thoughts!" I chuckle at how he pouts, scowling funnily.

"Shut up, shut up, I get it!" Frank rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine before I can say anything, having me smiling against the kiss until returning it, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Now that we've finally kissed, keeping our lips off each others' feels almost impossible – letting go of each other feels almost impossible. "God fucking damnit," he groans under his breathe, moving to press kisses down my jaw, soon reaching my neck.

A sigh escapes my lips at the kisses, though it turns into quiet pleased sounds at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin and sometimes closing around it, sucking on it whilst all I can bring myself to do is tugging onto his hair. Suddenly, however, feeling his hands traveling down to my hips and squeezing them makes me gasp, probably reacting a bit more than I intended.

"What?" Frank pulls away at the same moment, eyes wide. "Did I do something wrong? Please– Damn, I'm so sorry!"

"N-No, no," I finally bring myself into speaking up, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. "I, um, I actually... liked it. A lot. Sorry if I scared you, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't mind, really," I insist as he continues looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah!" I smile, bringing him for a quick kiss before he's trailing down my neck again.

Frank's hands go down my body, experimentally at first and then squeezing my hips again, receiving another reaction this time, including just a soft gasp as I push my hips up – a shiver runs down my spine with it, a nice one. Fuck.

"Damn..." Frank breathes, hands running down to my thighs then up again to slide under my shirt. "It's a bit early, maybe–" he shrugs, looking at me, "–but... is it okay if..."

Holy hell. "Of course," I say without thinking much – he continues to stare, so I nod.

"Fuck yeah," he mutters, lips against mine for a few seconds before he's pulling my shirt over my head and the expression on his face carries such admiration that I can't help but to feel embarrassed for a moment. He never lets me cover myself, nonetheless, hands flying to my waist to hold firmly onto it as he's pressing kisses from my stomach to my hip. "No, seriously–" he sits up again, "–how can someone be so perfect?" He seems to be talking mostly to himself, getting rid of his shirt.

"Dunno." I grin. "How does it feel to be so perfect, baby?"

Frank exhales shakily. "You'll be the death of me and I ain't even joking." He presses a kiss to my collarbone, starting to nibble down at the skin again, trailing down to my chest, lips sometimes lingering over my breasts – sure as hell he leaves a few marks behind, considering how invested he gets.

Something tells me he doesn't know what to focus on. His hands never stay in the same place for too long, going down my thighs then trailing up to my waistband, up my torso, and then he repeats it.

"C'mon," I mutter, placing his hands on my waistband. He's a bit hesitant, but quickly undoes the buttons and starts pulling it down – I help him, kicking the pants away in the end.

A string of curses slip past Frank's lips as he quickly gets rid of his jeans too and, when coming back, he kneels down between my legs this time, spreading them apart. Our lips are yet again locked in a kiss, different from the others, more heated up and urgent this time as we hold onto each other. I play with the hair on the back of his neck and tug onto it instead at the feeling of his hands around my ass, groping.

"Frank, damn," I breathe quietly for a second we pull apart and, opposite to earlier, he gets the hint and does it again, humming against my lips. Once he stops groping, his hands just run along my skin, up and down my body, sometimes lingering. The most lovesick look decorates his face when he pulls away. My heart.

I place my hands on Frank's shoulders as I sit up, changing our positions. He observes me with wide eyes and I smile at him before pressing kisses to his neck, leaving behind a hickey before I can go lower and lower until my fingers are around the waistband of his boxers and I pause, looking up at him, and continue after he nods.

Frank's already half hard, a breath hitching in his throat as, after discarding his boxers, I assume my previous position.

Even if it's not the first time I've done that, this nervousness still lies under my skin as I wrap a hand around him, pumping him lightly before wrapping my lips around the head experimentally. He breathes sharply.

Only halfway through it that I allow myself to look up at Frank, pausing for a moment after finding out he's been watching, propped up on his elbows, eyes focused on me and jaw slack, but I don't look away, hollowing my cheeks instead and watching him break under my gaze, letting go of all the tension for a second.

I repeat the motions a few times and pull away, licking up along the underside, around the tip, and he's suddenly pulling me away – eyes wide and face flushed this time.

Frank mumbles something I can't quite understand, but it doesn't really matter. He moves closer, both of us soon assuming the position we were in minutes ago, pressed against each other. Now, he removes my underwear and his hand slips between us, however.

Pleasure is sent ringing up my spine at the feeling of Frank's fingers slipping past my lips, quickly finding my clit and wasting no time on working his thumb on it while a couple of fingers tease my entrance. Moans just escape my throat easily after he breaks the kiss, mouthing his way until the inside of one of my thighs – he bites and sucks on the skin there. His tongue is suddenly there, then, against my clit, working around it before being replaced by his lips and my vision goes fucking blank when I can feel him sucking on it.

"Fuck," Frank curses once pulling away, moving to frantically rummage through the nightstand's drawer; I groan at the loss of touch, pushing my hips up into nothing.

Hearing the sound of foil being torn makes me understand what's happening, and I watch him rush to slip the condom on, giving us a moment to catch our breath before he's positioning himself, a hand on my hip whilst another holds himself up.

"Tell me if there's something wrong, okay?" he asks slowly, "I'll stop right away. Don't be afraid."

"Same to you," I say softly, cupping his face to pull him for a soft, quick kiss.

Frank smiles with a nod and looks down before I can feel him against my entrance, pushing in slowly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly, feeling his chest vibrate against mine with the low moan coming from him, replaced by a sigh once he sinks in completely. He starts moving right away, hips jerking experimentally before attaining a heavy and slow pace which doesn't last long due to how needy we are already.

I gasp at how he thrusts in harder, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold him close and having my legs around his hips, instinctively.

Curses and praises are breathed into my ear among moans, somehow making the pleasure pool down in my lower stomach even more intensely, summed up to feeling his hands groping on my ass again, fingers sinking into the skin.

"You're just so perfect, (y/n)," he babbles, "and even better that now you're all mine."

Suppressing a louder moan turns out to be impossible at the feeling of Frank's hips reaching a certain angle and, soon, the answer I had in my slips away from my grasp and all there's left is just how good he feels. I travel a hand up to his hair, remembering how he reacted to it earlier, and tug on it in a form of response, though also wanting to hear how pathetically he moans at it.

"'M gonna cum," I manage to say before being cut off by a moan, arching my back.

"Me too, babe," he groans, "almost there."

Frank pauses, adjusting himself so a hand is under my thigh and another on the mattress for major support and his thrusts are suddenly harsher. I throw my head back at the same time, holding onto him tightly, and it doesn't take long for all the pleasure that had been building up so far to unravel at once – it apparently triggers the same on him, considering how tight his grasp gets whilst a higher pitched moan comes from him.

Coming down from the high, I feel almost numb, in a good way. Frank pulls away and I'm only aware of him when he's lying down next to me, both of us breathing heavily and unable to do anything aside from staring at the ceiling for a long moment.

"Damn, I love you so much, so much," he mumbles again.

I breathe a chuckle, feeling him cuddling up to me, arms wrapped around me. "And I love you, dumbass." I press a kiss to his head.

"My girlfriend now, right?" he asks. "Nevermind, you don't get to choose." He chuckles, though it quickly dies down. "Just kidding, okay? Tell me to and I'll fuck off."

I laugh, still breathless. "Of course I am. I didn't confess for nothing."

[hamsamwich23]

The fall of Owen Gubberson, pt 1/3

(alternative title: Mortimer's adrenaline rush part one/j)

Crossover au one shot 1/3

Words: about 3,000

-

Before starting. I would like to say a few things.

-this is for an au I have made with two more people and while it mirrors the events in the canon storyline it Is not the same. Not everyone will or has to agree with it or like it. But Everyone has a different portrayal of events, characters and more. And that's okay. So please be respectful, not just to me but to others as well.

-basically, any and all spiteful/hateful comments will be deleted and you will be blocked. I added all of that because I've had a few...not good moments with some people in this particular fandom. I'm not accusing anyone, I'm just anxious.

-more notes are in the tags

-The following story will contain triggers, so tw for weaponry, mentioned/implied @buß3/tørt7r3, implied character d3@th, mentions of m7rd3r1ng others, implied h@rm1ng of ones self. If there's any I forgot I will add them later on

- please forgive me, it's a bit rushed because I haven't been writing in months. I've been burnt out for quite some time and I literally started this at five in the morning. So I apologize in advance

Midnight show spoilers..kinda? Yeah it's based off one of those scenes. I forgot to add this before and I apologize-

-@dont-be-difficult-fluffy here ya go Gaylord/p

The halls of the warehouse were rather..silent. there was little noise heard in the halls outside..

It was surprising, really. Mortimer thought Owen would have found him by now. What was taking the bastard so long anyways?

Maybe the man was preparing to slay him. Or maybe he just wasn't taking this serious because he was SURE he'd easily be able to get him back under his control.

Either way… he was getting impatient. Nervous, even.

He had finally worked up the nerve to put his plan into action…he even had the guts to kill Owens new little intern!!

Which was. Admittedly, quite unnecessary.. he could have just used someone else to get around.. but he ended up killing this one.

Either way. His father didn't seem to be taking this seriously. And there was no way he was LOST either. Owen knew every nook and cranny of this warehouse…

He was either plotting or stalling. Most likely because there was...WAS ... someone else here.

Of course. Of course his father was going to put on his own act, and pretend he was a decent man for this young lady… well.it wasn't like he had a reason to, now.

He turned back to the woman he had placed himself upon. She was dead for sure. But with the bag over her head maybe it would be harder to tell...well no. Humans couldn't breathe with bags over they're heads. Could they?

It didn't matter anyways, she was gone. She seemed like a good enough human… so he was sure her soul was up in heaven right now.

He had always wondered what heaven was like… he would never see it now. He turned against his father, killed as much of the staff as he could. And was now sitting here, saw in hand. Doing all of this complicated bullshit in order to get rid of that man..

But he couldn't just kill him...no.. he couldn't just give him a swift death right away…. He wanted to toy with him. To make him panic and frantic. He wanted to make him cry, even.

He pressed the tip of his wooden finger against the sharp blade of the saw he had been holding...freshly sharpened. Ready to cause harm

He wanted that man to pay for every horrible thing he had done to him

And he would pay. He WOULD. Owen would pay… he couldn't win this one. He couldn't.

While he WAS turning this whole thing into a game to get back at his father...the consequences. They were real.

And if Owen got his hands on him again…

He trembled, pressing the blade harder against his finger..

He didn't even want to THINK of what he might do.

He would probably nail him to that cross in the basement again for starters… leaving him there for days…

He STILL had those nails in the palms of his hands from his "purification"!! From three years ago!! Owen refused to let him remove them! They stung. They really stung. Even now.

He would have to remove them after this whole operation.

Speaking of which… the puppets head shot up as he heard someone yelling… his body went stiff for a moment, before he swiftly relaxed.

The familiar yelling of his father was now echoing down the halls…

He sighed. Lifting the saw up off of his now bleeding finger. As he listened to his father yelling… calling out his name… his footsteps getting closer...slamming against the floor

"MORTIMER!! COME OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!!"

He grinned, resting his head on the hand with the pricked finger. Where were all of the threats he used days ago? Did he really believe the human was still alive?

"IF YOU DON'T COME OUT RIGHT NOW I WILL PERSONALLY….YOU"

A bit of a pause there. Before the pace of his footsteps picked up again "YOUR JUST- YOUR IN BIG TROUBLE MISTER!!"

This time the yelling was followed by a bit of a crash, and an onslaught of swear words and even a couple of slurs mixed in. From the sounds of It he had tripped over it.

Mortimer couldn't help it, he laughed, grabbing onto his sides. The sounds of his father failing to just get to him was hilarious..

He shouldn't have been so excited for this. He should have been the opposite actually-

He knew what the consequences would be if he was caught here or any moment in the time Owen was still alive.

There would be painful consequences filled with only his suffering. The suffering that his dad had always brought onto him and many other people..

He would be hurt badly. He would have those wretched nails hammered into his body yet again, to join the multiple others that filled his body. He would be locked in the basement or that horrible "break" room for days. Nailed to a cross or forced to scream and cry out to be released. He could even try more things known to hurt people in the past. Owen might even start cutting his fingers off. After all, the show had ended. There wasn't a need for them anymore. He could cut him up. Tear him apart. Set him on fire, giving him that stupid, smug looking grin as he watched him burn..

And yet ..here he was, seated down with this fresh body, giggling like a child over his father tripping over things.

well. He WAS a child. He had only been alive for a total of four years. And already in year four, he was plotting.. plotting to murder this horrible man.

He was fully aware of what would happen if caught too. And he should have...he should have been terrified.

But he wasn't. He was sitting there, giggling. Even as the footsteps started again, and grew louder… louder towards the room he was seated in..

Finally, the door was thrown open by Owen. And by that time Mortimer had regained his posture. Holding the saw close to his chest as if it was a stuffed toy.

"Hello there father… I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't make it~!" He hummed aloud as his father barged in.

His father already looked like he was annoyed. What a shame. He hadn't even started the operation yet.

"what the hell do you think you're doing, kid?!" Owen hissed, marching right up to the puppet. Perhaps he hadn't noticed what the thing was holding. "I gave you ONE order. ONE. To stay out of my way while I do my work. And what did you do?? You take my intern here and run off!!"

"yes. I did take her and run off with her. What of it, father?"

"you must have a death wish, Mortimer. You can't just run off with people and…"

He looked over the intern. Unmoving. Except in rhythm with the puppet she was attached too. There were no signs of life...nor blood.. the bag over her head..

"...What did you DO to her?!"

Mortimer simply hummed. Patting the humans covered head. "not to worry, SIR… she had a quick death. I didn't let her suffer for long… she's gone now, gone to a place that neither you or I will be going to when we're gone."

"What do you….your speaking nonsense, Mortimer!! You've gone mad!!"

"...Maybe I have. But I wasn't always this way. A certain someone just decided he would…PUSH ME OVER THE EDGE, just to make a few thousand dollars"

Fuck

"A-and?? I did all of this for us!! For my family! You don't understand how hard it is too-"

The man didn't get a chance to finish. the puppet had risen up from his spot, the saw gripped firmly in his shaking hand.

"you're the one who doesn't understand. You're not doing this for anyone but YOURSELF."

"And how would you know that?!"

"BECAUSE I'VE SEEN YOUR BULLSHIT, FATHER!!"

Mortimer trembled, as the room went silent. The two stood there, glaring at each other, it was at a point where one could visibly see the high tension between the two..

"I've SEEN you father… I've seen what you do to people…I've felt what you've done to me...I've heard everything you've done to us all…"

"You don't-"

"Owen. Silence." He snapped, raising the saw up, and once Owen got the memo that if he interrupted him again, he wouldn't hesitate to use it..

N...not that it would do any good right? He could easily dodge the puppet… he couldn't be that fast, and he certainly wasn't strong enough to use it on him…

"you...you.. I've seen you Owen. I've seen you. I saw you. I've heard you."

"Oh yeah..? And exactly what HAVE you seen around here?"

"I saw you slamming that woman's head into that wall the night she came in and saw what you were doing to me"

The humans eyes widened. No...he shouldn't have remembered that. He couldn't have- "you-"

"I've seen you go into your office after the end of each day and count your fucking money you've received off your show with this stupid look on your face. I've heard you plotting your business "strategies", I've watched you slowly drive people into bankruptcy. And you know, just because you locked me in a room didn't mean I couldn't HEAR what you were saying to everyone else.. regardless of whether or not they were human"

Owen was speechless. For once. He was absolutely shocked..maybe more shocked than he should have been. Mortimer couldn't have been paying attention during all of those events…

He didn't understand.

He had done what he had to, to make this puppet obedient to him… but it seemed in the end hefailedhim he had been failed

If Mortimer was going rouge then he was no longer of use to him.

"You were a mistake"

Mortimer flinched, and the saw in his hand lowered. "What….?'

"It was a mistake to make you my main priority." Owen seethed. Adjusting his jacket as he scowled at the puppet.

"I brought you into this world first because I felt like you'd be the most suitable. Your the main character after all...but of course you had to be perfected. Purified…. And I worked to make that happen. I did everything I could. And yet….you ended up like this."

He hissed, looking his puppet son up and down

"A murderer….you've become a murderer. A true monster. Your nothing like what I imagined you would be, and your certainly not what I wanted you to be… I expected more. But perhaps having expectations for you was a mistake."

He wasn't sure how to feel as he watched Mortimer's armed...well, arm, fall to his side. Heartbreak was written all over his face.

It was what he deserved yes?

..he shouldn't be feeling BAD about something that he..

"This has gone far enough, Mortimer. This all ends here" Owen announced sternly, taking a few steps towards the puppet

Mortimer quickly began backing away at the same time. As he watched his father reach into his jacket and pull out the spellbook. That accursed spellbook that had brung him into this horrible place…

"Come here, Mortimer"

He was taking him out the same way he brought him here

"I..no…"

He couldn't let Owen win. No.

"I said, COME HERE. It'll be easier if you just cooperate with me. It won't hurt at all"

No…

"I can't….no!! I'm not going back!! No!! I can't!!!! I won't!!! I wont let you!!!!" He yelled...his voice had a more distorted sound to it than it usually did.

The human grit his teeth and lunged forward. He didn't have all day to mess around!! He had to hide that body and get rid of the others!!

They knew too much. They all knew too much.

Owen grabbed onto the puppets unarmed wrist, tightly. Yanking him forward, ignoring the yelling and loud protests that were coming from him

"Let go of me!!! LET GO OF ME!!!" The puppet cried, squirming, fighting to pull his arm back away. But his father was stronger and had a tight grip

"No, shut up!! You've gone too far!! I'm ending this whole mess, once and for-"

SLASH

Mortimer screamed… he knew that much. He was screaming and fighting back desperately… he had been so focused on getting Mortimer to stay still so he could read the spell, he had forgotten what was in his other hand..

He was alive. But his hand… the hand he had been pulling with…

He hit it. Mortimer slammed the saw down on it.

It was bleeding.. bruising.

It was injured. His hold on both Mortimer and the book was released. And the book hit the floor with a full thud.

He held his hand in pain. Wincing as he looked over to the puppet. The puppet who was now shaking yet again. Staring at Owens hand...then at Owen.. a panicked expression on his face…

But to his surprise...that panic soon turned into an unsettling smile… and he began laughing..softly… before it became louder. Louder. It sounded mad...distoriented… pained even.

"Are you REALLY that FUCKING DUMB?!" He spat out, raising the bloody saw up in Owens face

"WHAT GAVE YOU THE IDEA TO GO AT SOMEONE WHOS ARMED WITH A WEAPON?! YOUR LUCKY I DIDN'T HIT YOU IN THE FUCKING FACE!"

Owen couldn't respond. He was surprised that Mortimer actually went ahead and HIT HIM… then again. It seemed like he had only done it because his life was in danger.

He didn't understand, how he could kill some random intern but not him, his father whom had done so many things "for his well being".

It wasn't natural to see him like this. It wasn't just him being rebellious anymore.

He had lost it…

"Sorry dear father..but I believe that it's the end of YOUR story." He seethed, pressing the saw blade against his neck.

He really did want to kill him..

"The devil is waiting for you at hells gate, and trust me father...you do not want to be late"

He could tell, he was about to swing the blade in an attempt to cut into him, and he quickly reacted, shoving Mortimer backwards and swiftly turning around. To run away

Like the coward he is…

He could hear his loud, distorted screams followed by heavy footsteps. He was chasing him. He was really CHASING him.

And by the sound of it he was fast..

He wouldn't be able to outrun him. But perhaps he could wait him out. Until he got tired, and he could get rid of him then.

He swiftly opened up one of the old lockers that were, conveniently lined up on the walls near the doorways, and nearly THREW himself inside. Closing the door shut and peeking out of the opening.. sure enough, he watched the bastard run right by….

Jeez, he was faster than he thought he'd be...much faster.

All the more reasons to wait until he was tired. He would be unable to fight back then after all…

He waited a few more minutes, before slowly stepping out of the locker and quietly making his way out of the room.

It looked like the coast was clear...and he sighed with relief as he continued forward.. softly..

He could wait it out. He could do this. All he had to do was wait for him to tire himself out, get the book and-

Owen paused right in his Tracks.

The book….

He reached into his jacket, searching around it frantically.

The book...the book wasn't with him right now..

"The book..!! No!! The book!! It's-"

He didn't get to finish. Again. What a surprise.

He felt something hard hit him in the back of his head. Right before he blacked out.

And who was the culprit of this deed? Well. Who the fuck else would it be-

Mortimer stood over his father, holding a wooden bat now, instead of the saw from earlier.. panting and shaking… as he stared down at the unconscious man on the ground..

"The book..? The book is gone. It wont belong to you by the time you have woken up… face it Owen...your going to loose. For the first and last time in your life"

He knelt down and grabbed him by the ankles. Dragging him across the floor.. not as quickly as he had hoped. Fuck. He was heavy…

But it would be manageable. All he had to do was secure him while he got everything ready.

Soon...soon…

Soon Owen would be no more but a memory. Whether or not the memories were good or bad in humans, he didn't care. He had already tricked many people into losing money, or into thinking he was the righteous one here.

He would be gone… and that was all that mattered.

And as long as he could prevent anything like this from happening in the future..

He would never be hurt like this ever again.

He hummed softly as he dragged him, the distortion in his voice had faded by now… he would make Owen pay, and he sure as hell wasn't going to make his death easy. He already had a plan.

He just needed to make a few arrangements before Owen woke up…

(ahssddhds well hello there and thank you for reading this far. I'm sorry for not explaining much or for any detail/grammar lacks, I'm planning the next one out though so more can be explained. Once again thank you very much and have a great day)

[boy-above]

Is there any character you wanna infodump about but haven't had the chance to yet? Pls do ^^ And good luck with your appointment!!! 🌻

hi!! to be honest, i can't really think of a character i want to infodump about since i haven't really been consuming that much media lately besides the new fn*f game, and i definitely can't confidently infodump abt anything in that series because i honestly gave up on understanding the lore a long time ago AJDJF it's pretty obvious they're just making shit up as they go and don't rly intend on making everything actually make sense at any point

but! i can still talk abt a theory ppl have abt a character from the game tho. a theory that i didn't/don't want to believe because i think it's really dumb!! but there's a lot of evidence for it and i can't pretend it isn't significant.

i don't know dear anon if you're familiar with the game but basically in the newest game there's a boy named gregory that ends up in the pizza plex, this absolutely giant kids entertainment. place thing. it's got like arcade games and laser tag and go kart racing yknow the kinda place. and gregory needs to get out of there because there's a dangerous lady hunting him, and she tells all the animatronics to hunt him as well, most likely having hacked them. freddy didn't end up being hacked though, and remains a normal, friendly robot bear. so he helps protect gregory as they try to escape the plex while trying to keep from danger.

this theory im referring to is that gregory isn't actually human and he's a robot. an advanced robot that looks like a kid. i think that's pretty dumb, but it explains a lot of things that aren't answered in the game. because let's be real, not much at all is answered in the game. it was rushed out and might as well not have had an ending at all. so many plot points dropped, so many things that never go anywhere. but enough abt my complaining lol. basically there's a lot of questions that aren't answered but regarding gregory here's the questions that this theory might be able to answer:

we never get an explanation as to why gregory is even at the pizza plex to begin with. he isn't just some kid whose parents forgot about him, because he's (assumedly) homeless and doesn't Have parents. so he most likely snuck in. he isn't an officially registered guest at the plex, like he wasn't signed in at the front or whatever. there's also the fact that gregory is well aware that there have been disappearances at the pizza plex, so why would he go there, especially near closing time, if he knew it might be dangerous. him being a robot may explain that. perhaps he needed to repair himself and this was the only place he could do it. like maybe it had parts he needed and he couldn't get there anywhere else. that would be an explanation.

when an antagonist named vanny is nearby, it seems as if gregory's vision glitches and distorts. it literally looks like analog video malfunctions. i always assumed this was just a stylistic thing, but actually when paired with the other thing i'm about to mention it's probably actually relevant. freddy can't see vanny, but gregory can. that's obviously Really weird. but what seals the deal is that freddy can finally see vanny after his Eyes are Upgraded to special ones. he gains roxanne's eyes, and she sees a lot differently than the other ones. she can see through walls for example. so freddy not being able to see vanny while gregory can would imply gregory may have more advanced eyes than freddy at first.

it would explain why gregory is special in the first place. why vanny is hunting him to begin with. that's such a huge unanswered question, what does she want with this kid? obviously other kids have disappeared but this doesn't seem like a thing she would do every time she takes a child, it's a whole Thing yknow, a whole night of robots trying to get this boy. if he were a special advanced robot that would def make more sense why someone would want him so bad.

obviously him being homeless doesn't have to be some conspiracy theory it may just be that he's homeless and it holds no plot significance and that's fine, but it could also be that he ran away from whoever created him. that would go back to him needing parts from the plex, if he was created by someone but ran away from them he would have to perform maintenance on himself. there's also a weird thing where freddy says "i feel you are broken" to gregory and takes him to the first aid station, although first aid is never performed because they're interrupted by another character, and it's something that's not mentioned again. this could totally just be gregory having cuts and bruises, especially since he already has bandaids in his canon design. but i still feel like freddy's phrasing of "broken" is a tad strange. obviously it could just be that he's used to using that kind of language as a robot but the guy works with kids all day, you'd think he'd know the word "hurt".

ANYWAY THO i'm done talking about that. like i said i think him being a robot would be dumb, him being a normal human kid should just be what it is. so i hate that this theory might be right considering how much it explains certain things rip

[belphegorbillickin]

Okay, but I can definitely imagine Barb/Dia doing that. It seems like quite a possibility. But wasn't dying mc's own fault though? Like,, Barbatos did warn,,, unless he knew this was gonna happen and mc was DUMB AND STUPID enough to show up to everyone like: "hi." and possibly be dumb enough to get killed. Idk lol I forgot this part.

But what you said about Beel, I really like that. I think you even mentioned belphie guilt tripping you in your yandere hcs, and trying to make you completely depend on him?? I like those possibilities. Mammon though,, too soft. Like you said, they've robbed him a lot. He could have had so much potential to be a dark character. Similarly Levi omg.

The brothers are the embodiments of the 7 deadly sins, yet, tbh, I haven't seen too much of this side of them. At least, not like how'd I expect. Leviathan, for eg. Envy. I don't recall seeing his sin playing out anywhere except in the TSL Quiz thingy. I mean, it's been toned down a lot for someone who's the literal embodiment is envy. Idk I just don't feel he's like that? As from what I found: Envy (Latin: invidia), like greed and lust, is characterized by an insatiable desire. It can be described as a sad or resentful covetousness towards the traits or possessions of someone else. The struggle aroused by envy has three stages: during the first stage, the envious person attempts to lower another's reputation; in the middle stage, the envious person receives either "joy at another's misfortune"(if he succeeds in defaming the other person) or "grief at another's prosperity" (if he fails); the third stage is hatred because "sorrow causes hatred".[38]

Envy is said to be the motivation behind Cain murdering his brother, Abel, as Cain envied Abel because God favored Abel's sacrifice over Cain's.

They toned him down a little too much?? If this game has actually been inspired by demons and the 7 deadly sins, they could at least make them similar to the demons, at least in some way. I'm not that far into the game yet, but so far that I've played, I haven't seen much. As for a demon who is the embodiment of envy... I wish to see more. Levi is capable of A LOT.

Similarly, Satan. I sometimes wonder why is he even called the Avatar of Wrath when we hardly see it?? The only time I remember is him losing his calm during the whole body swap event. The fact Satan got mad at us refusing a pact actually made me think that he was the sin "wrath", but idk now. And the way it was said that "every smile is an act", I really like that concept too. But I don't think I've paid much attention to see where it played out. Sigh now Satan simps for cats like,,, please show me your dark/evil side sir.

The way you said Barb and Dia took part in a torture dungeon, I want to see more of that too. If they're demons, wouldn't they have caused SOME sort of bloodshed in a way? Especially if they're the strongest demons. Killing humans, eating them, or I even like to think doing the same to their own race. Torturing... Seems like something that every demon's blood would contain lmao, I'm not answering questions bye.

And I believe so too. The human seems like a pawn... I feel the demons would use humans for entertainment and their own purposes, while keeping up the facade of loving them. It's easy, since demons are manipulative. In that case, losing the human whether by their own hands or not would go like: "Oh well, that's unfortunate. Time for another human."

But if they REALLY did love you, I feel they'd still be manipulative. Like you said. Corrupting/spoiling the human so much to the point that they'd just HAVE to depend on them. I feel they'd also have yandere tendencies, or be "protective". Like, then I feel they really wouldn't want to let you go, despite knowing how much it can ruin your innocence.

I also don't like how everyone is after mc like "uwuwu master". The human is still a weakling despite having pacts, plus, the pacts aren't even demanding the human's soul or anything. I don't get why they let mc walk over them when they are CLEARLY much stronger? If I were a demon I'd do the opposite lmao. Making the human seem as if they are controlling me, but it's the opposite. I don't think a mere pact can change the fact that the demon's stronger,,, esp if the pact didn't demand the human's soul/life/whatever.

Also, thank you! Things got better for me :)) and also,

💫✨💕send this to ten bloggers you think are wonderful. keep the game going 💕✨

Ofc you don't have to do this, but I got this, and it really made me happy, so here ^^

Oh btw in lesson...56 I think?? Just gonna tag this as a spoiler, but where for whatever reason Satan was "Sully" and the angel Lucifer asked him whether he liked books, let me just say I haven't even played it that far yet, but Satan going, "...Every book here is precious."

TOUCHED ME SO BAD LIKE. I DON'T KNOW IT REALLY MADE ME SOFT LMAO HE'S JUST SO okay I'll stop 🏃– 🍹

It's been a while since I've thought in-depth about the whole time traveling thing tbh, but couldn't Barbatos generally see the outcomes of the world?

We went back because they wanted to know who opened it, but considering Diavolo's the ruler of hell who turned Lilith human and Barbatos is basically the ruler of time & practically the universe I believe they already knew Lilith did it since it had to be "blood related" basically.

Barbatos also knows he can stitch together timelines and get of "extra" MCs essentially, so I believe he'd take that into account. I'm not saying MC getting killed was 100% part of the plan, but that they didn't care of MC was traumatized because they knew they could bring them back if necessary.

Imo the real goal wasn't to find out who did it, but to avoid breaking the family's bonds and devotion to Diavolo. The way it worked out was incredibly convenient and "coincidentally" a huge upgrade for Diavolo that kept the status quo and made him look good (or at least better) to Belphie and Beel without making Lucifer choose.

We see that kind of repeat later when Diavolo withdraws from the play because he was worried Lucifer wouldn't be as loyal. That's also why Lucifer gets that warning from Barbatos.

I think a huge part of why Levi's characterization is like that is because not enough people like him enough to tolerate it tbh. Even Mammon and Lucifer stans complain about the other characters hogging screen time and a lot of them admit to feeling bad for other fans. Levi is pretty much always second to last popularity wise.

I think he'd actually be more liked if they focused more on the jealously instead of making almost every interaction otaku/Ruri-chan related, but it's a bit too late now. I really, really hate how they just pretend otaku culture always existed and that's all Levi ever was. Like at least make him have an obsessive personality and be hyperfixated on novels instead of talking manga in an era before Japan even existed. It's so unbelievably lazy and really takes me out of the story.

Another problem is we only really see him interact with family or people that could enact severe consequences like Diavolo & Barbatos or people protected by the exchange program. He never gets a chance to shine or be cunning. The closest we get is things like him purposefully trying to ruin Christmas for random people online in his Christmas card. I think if he genuinely got jealous of MC and some random demon he would summon lotan almost instantly.

It's especially painful knowing what we had & being so excited to get more only for all of that to get dropped.

In an early devilgram, Be You, Satan gets jealous and feels bad about not having much unique to him and Lucifer comforts him in his own way when the others make it worse. Mammon is the most empathetic though ofc. They also talk about horror movies and Mammon says he doesn't find them scary (& the way it's framed sounds honest, idk if it's a retcon or a lie,) and Satan says "I'm sure we've all witnessed plenty of real-life horrors worse than anything in the movies."

Then when Lucifer asks for a time when he was really angry Satan first casually then gleefully talks about torturing a family to death because a kid set him up to get scolded by their parents. Meanwhile the brothers act wary of him and worry about him getting out of control while Lucifer tells everyone to take cover for their own safety with a smile. Satan happily talks about them begging for their lives and says he wishes they saw it too.

Levi also says he hates hearing about people being happy, but likes hearing about the negative things. While Asmo and Mammon are freaking out he also calls Satan cool. Which shows at least a little bit of his envy for once. Satan also says just the aura of his rage is usually too much for humans which is also interesting.

But back to Diavolo and Barbatos, I don't hate how the whole torture thing isn't super open, it makes sense imo, but I would like to see hints of them hiding it. Especially if Satan or even attic Belphie was the one you could go to to learn more about it. If anyone would defy Diavolo for that it'd be them trying to bring Lucifer down with them, or even just Satan rewarding the hunt for knowledge and not understanding the human psyche fully.

Imagine if instead of a paper thin lie about being human we got a Belphie manipulating us by pretending he was locked up because he was against hurting humans and the whole exchange program was a scam? Or at least if he told us things no one else would about Diavolo that were true so we wouldn't trust him and etc. That's the angle I'm going with in my fanfiction at least, the original story is just so lazy and boring imo.

Yeah I'm not a huge fan of how they handled pacts either, especially considering they don't even get MC's soul. It's way too one-sided to the point where I don't believe someone like Satan would ever offer it, even if the first offer was a trick and he'd get your soul or something. I agree on the whole manipulation thing too, like how is it partnership if one side has complete control over the other?

Even just making it so that demons can fight against if they really don't want to do something like harming each other and having it corrupt MC would make it a million times better.

And that's so sweet, thank you! You've made my days a lot brighter too. Not much makes me happier than infodumping and complaining about Obey Me rn lol.

I really liked Satan's line there too, although I did wish he had more a reaction to everything tbh. That whole section felt a bit too easy imo though, like I kept waiting for it to all go to shit or something. I am glad they went back into more story-based chapters too. I hope they keep that trend and expand on it.