#short answer questions

[witless-winion1]

Telemachus, crying that he finally gets to meet his dad: “For twenty years, I never could outgrow you”

Odysseus, the short king, also crying: son, you are several inches taller then I am

[cherryfennec]

Summer Times

Hi! I'm finally back from my two week abroad trip!

[jodoesnew]

On the other end

A small dcaXy/n idea I had

Premis: Y/N works part time in the daycare but doesn't really interact with the dca which doesn't mean the dca didn't notice them there.

Start of the story

Y/N gets messages from an unknown number and decides to answer

They start messaging thinking that they don't know each other at all

They notice that the tone and wording in the messages switches completely throughout the day but get used to it way too fast

Y/N's life is a complete mess right now so Unknown is a pleasant distraction

They never tell each other their real names but use nicknames instead

Both share how they feel often and text about life and just anything that they think of

Someday y/n just calls their unknown friend to share some great news because they have no one else they want to share it with

They don't pick up but call back later

A male voice they have never heard answers. A pleasant one. They talk for hours.

But the voice tells them to only call at night bc he can't talk on the phone while working. But texting is fine

Y/N falls in love over late night phone calls and long text convos

They ask if they could meet up and hang out

He doesn't answer

The connection goes silent

The last thing he sent is "I'm so sorry. But I can't" written only a few minutes after their question (in the middle of the day)

Hours go by and they get no answer from him anymore

Hurt and worried Y/N is in a daze of crying and starring at nothing for the rest of the week

This is when Y/N misses their break bc they stayed in the daycare closet to cry

As they step out the daycare is dark sth that Y/N was never there to see

Then they hear it. The voice of the person they love singing from where the kids are sleeping.

Y/N stumbles through the dark until they reach the kids and lock eyes with the daycare attendant

Moon goes quiet and his eyes betray him and show his shock

Y/N is stunned

"It's you?"

Awkward

P2, P3

[syluses]

big girls dont cry QNA

i know you guys have lots of curiosities about this fic lolll so i’ll try to answer some of the questions i received (∗ᵕ̴᷄◡ᵕ̴᷅∗) 💕 if u still have some, just shoot me an ask!! :] also im really bad at explaining so i apologize 🤦🏻‍♀️ i have the plot nailed in my head but its tricky to articulate it in a clear, linear way for yall considering all the little nuances i added lol. i’ll try my best tho hehe :,)

Okay so there’s a whole ‘nother plot that exists in the background of this fic- which was super fun for me to write, but im sure from a reader standpoint it’s also kinda thrilling to try to connect the dots i left lol. thats why theres so many interpretations for this story (which i love!! i loved reading all yall’s theories)! 💕 BUT. that being said, the ‘canon’ goes like this:

SPOILERS BELOW read it first then come back! ( ⸍ɞ̴̶̷ ·̫ ɞ̴̶̷⸌ )

was caleb really dead?

No. Caleb staged his own death and then, similar to the main story homecoming wings, didnt tell mc :,) for his own reasons, for a time, he decides he’ll let her go on believing he’s truly gone…

why did he stage his death?

I dropped little crumbs of it in the fic, but it’s hinted that mc, on top of all her grief, feels a bit bitter over the whole shebang and also blames herself for it. hmm… why would that be? 🤔 well because their final moments together (or so she THOUGHT) were emotionally charged and volatile.

the foundation of their sibling relationship was growing weaker and weaker before the explosion. arguments are forming out of nowhere- things are becoming more tense and mc, for the life of her, can’t understand why her gege is always pulling her into a heated debate about safety, danger, blahblahblah, this that and the third, every time they interact. He’s being wildly unreasonable, which she knows, and protective- a trait that has snowballed as they entered their adulthood- but what she doesn’t know is the why behind it. she tells herself she just has a super protective older brother who views her as a little baby in need of his guidance- which isn’t entirely wrong… but she doesn’t see the full picture. His true feelings. All this tension eventually climbs to its peak. Caleb just gets worse and worse. He needs to do something before the world collapses on them both.

Now, in this au, he works at EVER, a somewhat shady but lucrative company- which dabbles in robotics amongst other things. I imagine they have abundant resources and wealth- and what with his promotions, it’s safe to say caleb is making a LOT. So, the delusional guy he is, he buys a big fancy suite with the idea in mind of two eventually living in it ;) but mc doesn’t want to- she has her own life in linkon!! She wants to spread her wings and separate from the nest anyway. Partly to start her own life; partly to prove to her gege that she can take care of herself. The argument that unfolds over this is the last they have before the big tragic explosion 😭 caleb, putting on a show with his beaten puppy eyes, leaves and then that’s the last time she sees him.

Caleb meticulously plans his ‘death’ out (with some help from his wingman ofc) and then eventually the robot is introduced to mc. It serves as a trojan horse. He’ll finally conquer her heart with it and win full autonomy over her. THIS IS HIS MAIN GOAL WITH THE ROBOT. WHY HE EVEN DOES ANY OF THIS TO BEGIN WITH.

Caleb gets to spy on mc with it and also slowly reshape her to accept his feelings; his ‘death’ has left her in a fragile state of mourning and he knows, after she warms up a bit to not-Caleb, he can more or less get away with anything- bc she will claw for whatever’s left of her family member. He can make her finally reciprocate and understand him— whether that be his feelings or fear or love. He tried to be patient, to be good, but obviously he had to travel a new route. He’s thinking of her 24/7. He’s obsessive, longing, protective, you name it- and all of this just worsens the more she denies him. When push comes to shove… well, caleb will do whatever it takes to win her :] He knows it’s unconventional and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt him too- monitoring his endearingly stubborn, but sweet meimei and the shattered pieces he left of her through his android’s eyes— but it’s all temporary, and he truly believes it’s for the better.

did gideon know?

Yes, Gideon knew all along. He’s Caleb’s best buddy after all. To be matter of fact- Gideon didn’t just know, he quite literally ‘herded’ mc into the lion’s den in a way. Mc knew vaguely of their work at EVER, but not too much; so Gideon was the one who shined that light on their robotics and really introduced her to the concept of not-Caleb. Now, i wouldnt say Gideon is exactly comfortable with his involvement, but he actually really does care for mc and thinks she needs that help- as dubious as the means are. Anyway, it’s almost impossible to shut out all of his buddy’s demands: the brunet is nothing if not insistent on getting what he wants. In his own whacky way, Gideon thinks what he did- playing into Caleb’s plan- was for the better as well. I mean, Mc clearly wasnt doing good before not-Caleb came along,… but with the few visits he managed before the android got a little too stingy and sent him off, Gideon actually managed to catch a smile or two from her! So clearly he did the right thing 👀 not to mention… the real caleb seems very pleased with the progress, too. besides- the whole robot situation is temporary anyway :] She’ll be reuniting with the beloved gege she misses so much sooner rather than later.

how accurate was not-caleb?

His programming is like 100% accurate. Mc, for a mix of both naiveity and delusion, thinks not-Caleb is flawed when he starts to show signs of amorous/romantic feelings for her. Really, though, after she tells him to stay the night with her (innocently; and after years of having not shared the same childhood twin bed), it triggers a part of his ‘brain’ that undoes all real caleb’s self restraint thus far :] If the same exact situation happened with the real caleb, his reaction would’ve more or less been the same. Homeboy can only keep his feelings in check for so long

who programmed not-caleb?

Real Caleb

how is mc pregnant?

Because the robot’s creator wanted to add his own special touch to his work if you know what i mean :) yeah he’s a freak like that. Dont think he WOULDNT install in his robot the ability to indirectly knock his ‘meimei’ up. I will say though, that while caleb wants to get mc pregnant, its not fully bc he wants to start a family- at least not right away- but because he wants to emotionally and legally trap her with him. Besides monitoring her/wearing down her walls while she thought he was ‘dead’, this was actually one of caleb’s biggest goals with sending not-caleb into her home.

is not-caleb self-aware?

Yes

what’s real caleb been doing all this time?

Basically climbing the ranks of EVER from his lil perch somewhere in skyhaven. all the while, of course, spying on mc like a hawk. Biding his time & waiting for the right moment when she’s at her weakest, most codependent state to replace his carbon copy :)

was caleb controlling his robot?

No. But he essentially created its whole program. And there are cameras inside its eyes in which he watches mc from :) and cant help but snap pics with sometimes: she’s just so pretty— and endlessly sexy when he finally, in a vicarious way, gets to lie her back and make love to her <3

what is real caleb’s motive/ultimate goal?

1. to control/protect/‘tame’ mc through the robot; get her to see things from his point of view (which means realizing she belongs with him- where it’s safe and he can protect & love her)

2. to knock her up (hence the. ahem. reproductive abilities of the robot) so that he can trap her with a baby on top of all the other emotional strings he’s hogtied her with.

does gideon want mc too?

the question is not would gideon smash her. the question is would caleb LET him…. 👀

also, below i just attached a screenie from some of the notes i took. theyre ofc a little disjointed but i think it might clarify things too :] im so bad at answering questions esp for a plot this spiraling but i really tried my best guys my brain is tired forgive me :,)

[lazylittledragon]

i think thats supposed to be about sex things but Not One Of Those, this is the fourth, fifth? couple youve given a lil baby and i think you maybe love lil babys

i too, give the Characters lil babys, because i love them

as well as the myriad of Situations it puts the blorbos in

fourth or fifth publicly/in recent memory, i've been doing it for Years in art i haven't posted akfdhdjhd

i do just really love putting them in Situations you're right

[marzipanandminutiae]

The ladies find it so sexy that I need 13 long paragraphs to summarize my thoughts on if and how various forms of Egyptian mummy consumption by Europeans can be understood as emblematic of modern style European colonialism in Egypt, or not

all the women of the world want me for my long winded swagger and refusal to kill my darlings because goddamnit I need to be SPECIFIC

All of this is so attractive of me I think

[askchuuyanakahara]

AWEEEE YOURE SO GAY CHUUYA THIS IS SO CUTE

@bioluminescentcat

Chuuya: "But, thank you. I'll be okay. After all, I know how to deal with Dazai."

Chuuya: "I'm sure Dazai will eat anything as long as it's mainly crab.."

@azapofinspiration

Chuuya: "Well, as long as it's not overcooked, that is!"

Chuuya: ".. yes please."

Commissions/Ko-fi

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint 😼

I got goth vibes and so does my AngelOC, Elodie. So it's funny to imagine this pink boy who is secretly an emo boy in disguise next to a wednesday addams esque babe lmao. Poor boy miscalculated, I like that there was an option to be like 'Oh I like that goth style' at the cafe.

But this raises a question! Would he drop the Ren persona and aesthetic if he realized it wasn't totally necessary?

⌞♥⌝ This has been answered multiple times in the past, but yes, he'd drop the light academia aesthetic if Angel wasn't into it! ^^

However, from a game dev standpoint, it'd be extremely difficult for me to include a bunch of types and aesthetics in hopes of making Ren's appearance feel more inclusive for everyone, so it's easier for me to say, "Oh, Angel likes this one anime character" and build the lore around that.

So, for those who like Ren's real appearance and would've preferred if he introduced himself as [REDACTED] (instead of his Haruko persona), I hear you!! ^^

But please understand that if that were the case, the 14DWY storyline would be a lot less interesting and would defeat the entire purpose of Ren's motives. A big part of his characterisation is that he's more than willing to alter every part of himself to become Angel's ideal type, and if their type happened to be [REDACTED], then it'd make the buildup to his reveal in Day ??? feel far less anticlimactic.

[shkika]

If W1 and Gabe ever find a truce, would Gabriel get annoyed by W1 talking to itself all the time or would they actually have good conversations between the 2 of them? Would Gabriel ask why the two of them decided to fuse in the first place? Are they even able to speak?? Who does the speaking??

(So many questions sorry!!! 😫)

Small assortment of low-effort fun doodles where Gabriel actually brings W1 to heaven for you anon!

First of all all of W1's internal dialogue is very much internal. The two brains constantly talk to each other in there silently. So if anything it will be eerily silent, because it'd simply forget to communicate what it's thinking about. VV1 simply has no inherent need to include anyone else in it's conversations with itself.

W1 does have a voice synthesizer and both of them speak. Both are very loose with what the other is allowed to say and I mean VERY. In addition, if they get too excited and try to use the voice synthesizer at the same time it gets super buggy!

As for Gabriel I think he lacks very important context and information about W1 as a whole. He doesn't even know or assume the machine is actually a buy one get one for free kind of deal. I think he'd be a bit..? Weirded out?

Not that he hasn't seen enough horrors, by all means hes desensitized. But Ultrakill's hell is full with quite a few entities that are all about unwillingly sharing a body and using that as torture. W1 enjoying it's predicament is... interesting..? It's curious even! He'd definitely ask it why it is the way it is!

... And many other questions too probably!!!! There's a lot to be curious about with this bug.

[itsnixderlol]

Were the green eyes created by Pomni?

Part 2 to this

[sapphicfromthehip]

a look into the historical fashion of sfth characters

[—> angelina roland edition | see below the cut !!

first: what’s the time period and setting that the character is in?

the off season takes place in the late 1800s (more specifically 1895!) in england. we also know that angelina also lived in america for a decent amount of time. (or i assume it was a good chunk of time at least, long enough for her style to be influenced by it for the purpose of this analysis.)

general overview of the fashion for the period:

in both british and american fashion around 1895, the bustle was falling out of style, giving way to skirts with a more bell-shaped silhouette that skimmed the hips and flared toward the hem. at the same time, sleeves were growing more dramatically puffed, leading to the distinctive "leg-of-mutton" sleeve trend.

late 1800s british fashion:

british women’s fashion in 1895 was all about dramatic silhouettes and romantic details. bustles were officially out, and skirts started skimming the hips and flaring out at the hem in a smooth, bell-like shape. the waist was still tightly corseted, keeping that hourglass figure in style, but the overall structure was softening compared to earlier decades.

the real star of the year? sleeves. specifically, the iconic leg-of-mutton sleeve. they were huge—puffed up at the shoulder and narrowing at the wrist—creating a bold contrast that made waists look even smaller. bodices were fitted and often high-necked, though evening looks sometimes dipped lower.

fabrics were rich and textured: think velvet, silk, wool, and taffeta, often layered or trimmed with lace, embroidery, or ribbon. outerwear like capes and short jackets were popular, especially with fur or braid details.

hats grew wider to balance the sleeves, usually decorated with flowers, feathers, or bows. hair was worn up, softly waved or puffed to match the romantic, oversized look of the time. gloves were a daily essential, and parasols still made an appearance when the sun did.

late 1800s american fashion:

american women’s fashion in 1895 followed a lot of the same trends as britain, but with a bit more practicality woven in. the bustle was officially done, and skirts took on that smooth, bell-shaped silhouette—fitted at the waist and hips, flaring gently at the bottom. corsets were still a must, keeping the waist cinched and structured, but the overall shape was starting to ease up.

leg-of-mutton sleeves were everywhere. they hit their peak size around this time—huge at the shoulder, narrow at the wrist—and were a staple in both day and evening wear. they gave that bold, almost theatrical touch while still fitting into the modesty of the era.

day dresses were typically high-necked and long-sleeved, often with layered bodices or decorative panels. fabrics leaned heavy and durable—wool, cotton blends, and silk—especially for middle- and working-class women who needed practicality as well as style. wealthier women wore more delicate materials like velvet and taffeta, often trimmed with lace or ribbon.

outerwear included tailored jackets, capes, and mantles, many with bold collars or cuffs to match those big sleeves. hats were getting larger too—picture hats, bonnets, and toques all decorated with feathers, artificial flowers, and sometimes even birds (victorians were intense about hat decor).

hair was worn up and often softly waved or curled at the front, with pins and combs for decoration. gloves were a daily accessory, and parasols stuck around, though they were a bit more common in southern states where sun exposure was more intense.

so in 1895 america, fashion meant flared skirts, sky-high sleeves, cinched waists, and a mix of function and flair. victorian drama, but with a touch of that american practicality.

differences between american and british fashion:

british fashion was all about elegance and polish. upper-class women leaned hard into the drama—fabrics like velvet and silk, bodices with detailed embroidery or lace, and silhouettes that followed parisian trends to a tee. everything was a little more formal, a little more elaborate. even outerwear felt fancy, with lots of tailored capes and fur trims.

american fashion? still dramatic (those leg-of-mutton sleeves were everywhere), but way more practical. daywear often used sturdier fabrics like cotton-wool blends or plain wool, especially for middle- and working-class women. yes, rich american women wore silk too, but the average person needed clothes they could actually move in. plus, regional differences mattered—fashion in new york wasn’t the same as in texas or montana.

so while both had the same silhouettes—cinched waists, flared skirts, big sleeves—british fashion was more about looking luxurious, and american fashion was more about making it work.

now, on to what i think we’re all here for, what i think angelina would wear:

angelina’s clothing would most likely reflect how both places influenced her personal style. while her father’s status means she’s expected to dress in the traditional, formal upper-class style of late 1800s england, angelina’s more rebellious nature means she doesn’t fully conform.

she wears the classic 1895 silhouette—bell-shaped skirts, corseted waist, and leg-of-mutton sleeves—but her outfits are more practical and less ornate than typical upper-class fashion. sleeves are often rolled up for comfort and movement, and she incorporates pockets, a detail more common in american clothing.

her hair is most likely worn up but in a simpler, looser style than the tightly curled, polished look favored by british aristocracy. hats and outerwear are more modest and functional rather than heavily decorated.

overall, i think that she would blend these cultures together to express her individuality—combining british elegance with american practicality in a way that allows her to have the freedom she needs to do things. (like i don’t know, taking her injured lover to france or something? who knows?)

[cinnamonanddean]

Not sure why, but this episode has some incredible Lex profiles.

[reagent-leon]

wait, what do you mean we gotta suspend disbelief about franco's height? what for?

Franco is much taller in-game than he is in the comic. In fact, he's the same height as every other ex-pop or prime asset, since only the giant ex-pops get any special treatment.

Honestly, it really bugs me that his height is supposed to be a defining trait, but in-game, it just doesn’t matter. I get that it would’ve required entirely new motion captures, but still, wouldn’t it add so much to his character if he visibly struggled with things like reaching into barrels or dragging out reagents? I think he would’ve been worth the extra effort, but whatever, I guess that just means they never planned to include any other short characters.

With Coyle and Gooseberry, we never see them close enough to others to make solid height comparisons. But with Franco, there’s plenty of evidence that he’s short. For example, from what we see of Clyde Perry in the comic, he’s not a tall guy, and Franco is clearly shorter than him.

Even with the odd angles and keeping perspective in mind, Franco is a lil guy.

I think he is, or at least was supposed to exhibit some level of medical dwarfism, but either there was a change of heart or technical limitations stopped Red Barrels from running with it... or, as I said, we're just supposed to suspend our disbelief. His facial features resemble those of someone with Pfeiffer Syndrome (type one), so maybe it was a fear of demonising or infantilising people with disabilities that kept them from implementing his proper height. But that seems like an odd line to draw, considering the stuff they pull in the rest of The Trials.

I think Franco's outfit adds to his bulky appearance in-game, and I reckon he was given that suit at Sinyala. Because the fact is, on the outside, the Barbis were rich enough to afford proper clothes tailoring, which would have made Franco look far more proportional. I think they deliberately put him in an oversized suit to make him seem more childish, despite how big they made him in-game.

It's good character design, and it works regardless of how big or small a character is. Putting someone in oversized clothing is usually a reliable way to make them seem more childlike. It's why, at nearly 30, I can still get a child ticket for the bus, because I am height-deficient and I live in oversized hoodies.

Furthermore, everyone in the game describes him as short. I'm not combing through every single line of dialogue, since it's all very well documented on the wiki, but both Coyle and Gooseberry reference Franco’s short stature constantly in their Prime Time dialogue.

Mother Gooseberry calls Franco "little man" in the majority of her lines, as well as "dapper little fellow," which I thought was incredibly cute.

Coyle, on the other hand, is much less flattering but definitely more descriptive. He calls Franco things like "runt of the litter," "half-sized pile of shit," "s'like somebody cut a man in half," and so on.

-

Unrelated, but since this is a Coyle blog, I think I'll add this at the tail end. For as much as people depict Coyle as tall, I really don't think he would be. Partially because nobody comments on it in any way. If we were supposed to read Coyle as tall, I think Gooseberry would probably have called him "tall, dark, and handsome," or something similar. If he were 6'0 or over, he would be considered tall.

5'8 was the average height for a man during the 1950s, and we should remember that this guy grew up during the Great Depression, which ended when he was roughly 16, so it's quite possible he didn't reach his full adolescent potential due to malnourishment. Frankly, I think the only reason he manages to lift that prisoner with one hand the way he does is because he's off his tits on whatever drugs Murkoff gives them. He certainly doesn't look strong enough to do it without a little enhancement.

But that's just my hypothesis, people can obviously enjoy him and depict him however they like, I'm not the fun police. I just like to gather evidence and show it to everyone like some sort of academic magpie. This is all in good fun

[preservationofnormalcy]

[My name is Meghan Hendricks, and I’m about to do something stupid.]

[I’ve scheduled my work to be sent to my superior in the federal government’s oversight committee unless I stop it in one week. A dead woman’s hand. It’ll be somewhat fruitless - I’ve begun to suspect that my work will be restricted, censored, and buried like most other things the Office does.

A lot of the people I talk to are exculpatory of the Office, even if they say they have questions or concerns. I think most of them mean it. I don’t think it’s brainwashing. I think in such a tighly knit community as the supernatural world people feel a more genuine sense of belonging than they might otherwise. A werewolf helping werewolves is going to understandably try and defend the hand that deals the help, even if they’ve bit it in the past. But one thing I’ve learned as I’ve been peeling up rocks and seeing what scurries away is that something isn’t right. Something is hiding in plain sight.

Most people don’t know about it. They can feel the shape of it, the outline the absence of something makes. Some people, however, do know. At least a little. I’ve seen them avoid questions, look away, end interviews. I can see it in their eyes. They know enough to not want to know more.

All of that brings me here, to the backwoods of upstate New York. I’m dressed in all black, wearing a mask and gloves. My clothing smells of peppermint, and in my bag is a bottle of peppermint oil. It stung my eyes and, before I got the dilution right, burned my skin. I look in my car’s rear view mirror and it hits me that I look ridiculous. I don’t know for sure why the factory foreman Barry warned me about the peppermint, but I had a theory. 

For the last few minutes I’d seen the shape rising into the air, the metal tower with red lights up its length. That was where I needed to be. The highway was thankfully bare, at this time of night. As was the turn-off onto an unmarked gravel road, only distinguishable by the Office’s symbol on a plastic sign, held up on a thin metal spike. I’d learned by now that the broader public couldn’t see the Office logos and signage until they’d been exposed to the extranormal, something the Office calls “memetic masking.” I was, in their terminology, memetically inoculated, and it was that fact that ironically helped me find the path. The gravel road went into the forest, but I pulled over past the road’s entry, into the small area of grass down past the turnoff. I pulled a tarp from my car and threw it over the vehicle, once again feeling ludicrous…and frankly, a little scared. 

The hike was about twenty minutes, mostly uphill on a gentle incline, the numbers station being built on a hill. I’d done worse, but not in a while. I could see pretty well in the light of the full moon, a fact that made me a little more nervous. I walked along the edge of the gravel road, in the dark - hiking onto a government facility, my nerves went wild. Every shift of leaves meant an agent clad in camo, every whip of wind causing a noise that made me think of the things I’d seen since I began this assignment. Not this assignment, I had to remind myself. This wasn’t part of it. Not really.

I saw the fence in the distance first - an eight foot chain link fence that stretched as far as I could see in either direction. Past the fence, I could see dark buildings, giant spools of wire, and above it all the metal tower of the station. I hadn’t exactly planned for this, even though I knew it was more than likely. The handheld cutters in my back pocket were ready, but something in me didn’t want to cut the links, even if I fully intended to pass the fence. Getting in some other way could be a blunder, accidental. Cutting the chain meant intent.]

C] 1 15 12 24 2 12 12 21 16 26 1 15 12 22 21 19 6 26 2 25 3 16 3 22 25

[The voice almost made me vomit. I spun and saw a man. Disheveled, haggard, an unkempt beard and long hair. Older, in his 50’s, but being dirty and ragged made him look even older. He didn’t even look at me, mumbling numbers so fast I could only understand them later once I slowed them down in my recording. After his string of digits he stood there, looking at the fence, then back to me. In the moon’s light I saw his dirty, torn jumpsuit, the logo for the Office on the man’s arm and chest, along with an embroidered nametag - Cecil.]

M] Wh- who are you? What are you doing here? 

C] 4 12 25 16 23 23 12 11 22 2 1 1 15 12 23 8 25 1 22 13 2 26 1 15 8 1 18 21 22 4 26 16 1 26 9 25 22 18 12 21

[His stare was distant, vacant. It was a shock when his hand moved suddenly, pointing upward to the moon. It took me a second to realize what he was saying, and when I did, it confirmed my suspicions.]

M] Here? Now? 

C] 1 15 12 6 19 19 23 2 21 16 26 15 15 16 20 13 22 25 19 16 3 16 21 14 1 15 25 22 2 14 15 16 1

[With that, he turned and walked away. He looked back once, pausing as if making sure I was following - which, despite my better judgment, I did. I attempted to ask him some more questions, trying to understand who he was or why he was here, but he didn’t respond. Not even with his numbers. 

After a moment of walking by the fence, we walked away from it, down the hill. A steep path, rocky and unstable, that he navigated with ease. It was only after climbing down past a tree and a rocky face that I noticed “Cecil” backtracking up a few steps. A huge drainage pipe jutted out from the hillside, hidden from above by rocks and plants. A piece of wood in the pipe was the only flimsy protection, and without hesitation Cecil pulled it aside and bent over to climb inside. Here I was, in the middle of the woods, about to climb into a dirty tunnel to a strange old man’s bunker. 

I could hear a match catch fire just as I stepped down onto a concrete floor and stood up past the metal pipe. The space was small, a concrete box that ended in a pile of rubble. It must have been the entrance to an underground section of the complex at one point, but now was only a covered shelter. A camp stove, a bed, an orderly pile of refuse. He was living hard out here, but he was living. Cecil put the match into an old oil lantern and held it up to one wall. ]

C] 13 16 21 16 1 12 2 21 16 3 12 25 26 12 13 16 21 16 1 12 1 22 22 19 26 4 12 19 22 22 18 12 11 9 12 6 22 21 11

[All over the concrete wall, pasted or taped, were papers. Mainly old documents from the Office, with the Office logo watermarked on their corners. Many of them featured heavy black redaction bars. Some were torn, upside down. Cut in patterns, circled with heavy marker lines. I’d seen things like this in movies, of course. The stereotypical red string and thumbtacks on corkboard. This was different, however. When I looked over the collage I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t a man trying to figure things out. He’d already figured it out, in his own way, and this was some kind of…archive. Memorial. A reminder. I looked at him, and he looked down to the floor. In shame? Sorrow? I couldn’t tell. I scanned the wall again, trying to find some order.  

‘Numbers Station 23 Decommissioned By Order Of Reality Compliance Council.’ ‘Bulletin From Director Walker On Directive 61722.’ ‘Los Angeles–’ the last one was torn off.]

C] 26 15 12 16 26 14 22 21 12 13 22 25 12 3 12 25 26 15 12 11 16 11 21 22 1 11 16 12

M] What is all this? Who ARE you?

C] 1 15 12 23 25 16 21 10 16 23 8 19 16 1 6 4 16 19 19 8 3 12 21 14 12 15 12 25

M] Listen, I – I don’t want numbers. Can you speak?

C] 15 16 26 13 2 1 2 25 12 16 26 2 21 18 21 22 4 8 9 19 12 8 21 11 1 15 2 26 16 21 13 16 21 16 1 12

M] You used to work for the Office…at the numbers station? This numbers station? Is that why you can only –

C] 4 12 18 16 19 19 12 11 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 1 22 26 1 22 23 15 16 20

[I must admit to some frustration. I scan the wall again. None of it made sense. Clearly it did to Cecil, otherwise he wouldn’t have saved all of this. Was the numbers station related to…what happened to my brother? Phrases leap out at me: ‘reality compliance’, ‘the equation’, ‘project dammerung.’ That last one was…all over. There were scraps, shreds with the phrase, but all of it redacted.]

M] What is this? Project Dammerung? 

C] 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 4 12 8 23 22 21 13 22 25 1 15 12 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 13 12 8 25

M] I don’t…I don’t have time for this. You know why I’m here. Are you going to help me, or not?

[Cecil was silent for once, looking around hesitantly, and finally back to the floor. I give him a moment to respond, and when he remains silent, I take in a breath.]

M] Right. Thank you, Mister…Cecil. I’ll…

[He raises his hand, almost as if he wanted to grab my arm, but was too timid. Raising the lantern to a section of the wall, he gestured to a particular document, from Office Security, or O-Sec. A photo of a serious-looking Asian-American man, Corporal Han. Most of the document was blacked out. Was this a warning? I take in the wall one last time, and drop my bag so I can reach for my camera. A polaroid - no digital trail, no getting the photos developed. With a click I snapped a photo of the wall. 

A noise distracted me. I turned, and Cecil was going through my bag.]

M] Uhh…sir? Cecil? 

[He stopped, looking up at me in almost surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was even there. ]

C] 1 15 12 12 20 16 26 26 8 25 6 26 14 25 8 21 11 11 8 2 14 15 1 12 25 4 16 19 19 1 8 18 12 15 16 26 23 19 8 10 12

[He slid the bag back over to me. I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for, but it didn’t matter now. I needed to get out of there. I put the camera back in, quickly checking that nothing was missing, and backed up towards the pipe.]

M] I know you showed me this for a reason. I’ll figure out how it all adds up, I promise. 

[I enter the pipe again, leaving the old man holding his lantern.]

M] Thank you.

[When I turn away, he looks to his wall one more time. 

I emerge alone into the moonlight, attempting the climb back up the hill. Though I had more scraps of information, I was back at square one, or so I thought. When I reached the top and made it back to the fence, I saw a section of the chain link that had broken, detached from the pole nearby and bent away, covered in a bush that only kept it half hidden. This must be where Cecil still entered the facility. 

The gap in the fence opened up into what seemed to be a storage yard, the place I’d seen past the fence earlier. Piles of tarp-covered metal or wood beams, spools of wire as tall as I was. In the moonlight, I could see poles dotting the yard, cables stretched between them, each one bearing a floodlight. Though everything had been organized and put away securely, I got the feeling no one official had been here in a long time. Leaves covered most surfaces, and cobwebs shone in the dim light along the roof of a nearby shed. 

Again, it struck me that I didn’t know what I was doing. Any information or leads would be in the building past the storage yard, and surely that had better security? Cameras, keycard locks - what was I even doing here? Walking through the yard, almost lost in thought - the tower of the station rose into the night sky in the distance, red lights along its length. They almost looked like eyes along the body of some thin creature, frozen against the stars. 

And then, lights near the station building. I stood still for a moment, uncomprehending until a pair of floodlights on poles a short distance away snapped on, then the next set. The lights were turning on this way, towards me. I had seconds to react, and I did what I’d practiced. In my bag’s side pocket was a plastic bag, containing a gross mess of wet cotton balls, soaked in diluted peppermint oil. Despite my panic, I threw them in all directions, slinging a handful of them in a wide arc, and then hid before the lights were on in my section of the yard. I could hear the electric buzz of the floodlights snapping on just as I ducked behind a row of wire spools, trying to stop my racing heart.

As I debated my options - running, waiting out the lights…maybe they were on a timer? I heard footsteps approaching, crunching on the leaves and pine needles that had accumulated over the unattended years.  When they got closer, I tried to peek through the center of one of the spools I was hiding behind. I saw his uniform first, O-Sec, Office Security. A large man, built like a weightlifter - could see the black shine of a gun in his right hand and my heart leapt into my throat. It was the man from Cecil’s mural, Corporal Han. Was he the officer assigned to this site? I should have known the Office would still have security even on decommissioned stations like this.]

H] I know you’re here. 

[He stopped in a large open area, looking around at the stacks of materials around him, the sheds and tarps - all hiding places.]

H] Normally, I might blame teenagers. Kids getting a kick out of trespassing on Office property. We had one group a few months ago, teenagers. Two humans, a fae and a vampire. They all forgot their vamp friend couldn’t enter without permission. Fun night.

[He paused, letting the silence fall again. I could see him look around, eyes scanning the yard and narrowing. He sniffed the air in a way that seemed…odd.]

H] But judging by the smell…I think you know what you’re doing. You came in with an idea of what was going on. Either you’re a professional, or someone told you…

[He carefully walked, passing behind a small shed and out of my view. I panicked that I lost track of him for a moment, but then there was a sickening sound. Like flesh stripping and bones crunching, and Han’s voice hissing. Then a sound that echoed through the yard, the sound of a hand - no, a claw, grabbing onto the edge of the shed’s corrugated metal wall, digging in and tearing the metal. A shape followed it. A long maw of shining teeth, white fur. A raised canine lip in a familiar but terrifying gesture of anger and aggression, a low rumble as the muzzle raised, and smelled the air. Then, a whine, another growl, sneezing and huffing as the muzzle retreated behind the shed again, out of my view. Another crunch, a growl, and Han staggered past the shed. Haggard, sweating, panting softly, looking incensed.]

H] And if someone told you, I’m going to have a nice, long…conversation with them. 

[He tried to collect himself, catch his breath, run a hand through his hair. He pulled a bandana from a pocket of his uniform, pulling it over his mouth and nose.]

H] You have one minute. One minute until I call backup. You can hide from me, but can you run from a dozen of us? Most of them won’t have my…shortcomings. 

[My heart was pounding. My head was swimming. My fingers were going numb. I couldn’t claim innocence, not when they found out who I was. Could I make a break for it? All of the ways out seemed to be past him, and if he was what he seemed to be, it would be a short chase. It would end up better for me if I surrendered now, but what happens after that? I’d never work again…or worse.]

H] Cecil?

[Han’s voice was confused, concerned. I snapped around to watch through a gap in the spools as Cecil approached, holding a bottle. The bottle of peppermint oil. He must have taken it earlier when he was looking through my bag.]

C] 1 15 12 18 21 16 14 15 1 9 12 8 25 26 1 15 12 14 2 16 19 1 15 12 16 26 25 16 14 15 1

H] Cecil, what did I tell you about–

[Han took in a breath through the cloth, and exhaled, clearly frustrated. His voice was sharp, low, but his face softened, and there was a soft click as he put his gun away.]

H] Why the peppermint, man? You know what that does to my nose. Were you just trying to sneak around without me knowing? 

[Cecil looked at the bottle, then dropped it.]

C] 26 22 20 12 26 1 16 19 19 13 12 12 19 23 15 8 21 1 22 20 23 8 16 21

H] Are you taking your medicine? Probably not. Let’s….let’s get you back home. Not that bunker, home. 

[Cecil seemed to hesitate, but Han put a hand on his upper arm.]

H] You know you can’t be here. Come on. If you come with me to the station I’ll ask someone to bring you dinner when they come pick you up. Okay?

C] 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 4 8 26 13 22 2 21 11 4 8 21 1 16 21 14

[The older man lowered his head, but followed Han as the guard turned and walked back towards the station - but not before looking around, deciding on the row of spools I was hiding behind, and nodding, jerking his head towards the direction of the gap in the fence.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Once Han and Cecil were out of sight, I ran to the exit. I don’t remember much of the next several minutes - running a roundabout way through the forest, coming to the edge, following that until I found my car. I didn’t allow myself time to decompress. I slammed the keys into the ignition and pulled out onto the highway. 

The tears came just as it started to rain, and I drove until it became difficult to continue. I had gained nothing from this. Nothing but a panic attack and a long-lasting nightmare, a recurring dream with claws, spools of wire, and the scent of peppermint. ]

[iamhereinthebg]

Heya Anon!

Tbh I don't really know, Akane is a character who has been dealing with a thousand death flags leading to nothing since his most serious appareance in the manga. And this new timeline is not an exception.

Especially since we know that Kako and Mirai gave him 'You have to try to stay alive' rule as one of his duties

Implying that it is dangerous to altern the past and be the Clock Keeper of the Present, that they have to stay alive to make sure everything goes according to plan.

It also ties to my theory that Akane is the first human clock keeper of the present; Because after all if Kako and Mirai have been asleep since they changed the past in this new timeline, they couldn't have chosen anyone during 1968 and the current events in the manga (2015).

Akane is the only person who is directly coming from a different timeline even compared to Nene and Teru who just remember the stuff from the previous one, being on a time limit before their memories are erased. Akane brought along with him the fact that he is a clock keepers and mystery n°1, something he couldn't be in this new timeline in the first place since both of them don't exist.

But I digress.

Akane has been a little bit different since they came back from the boundary closest to the far shore. It's not that surprising with how much the previous arc must have taken a toll on him. Understanding that Aoi wanted to die, losing her, being impaled, having Teru confirming that he will lose years of his lifespan by turning back human too soon, being beaten up twice by number 6, etc...

Akane is like Kou and Nene on this point, a character who wants to do a lot, but is always a step behind when it comes to supernaturals. And like the other two, it is starting to show in his attitude.

Akane has been shown more unsure of his choices and of his opinions when it's something that never posed him a problem before. He is more scared of Teru (when he knows the exorcist by now) and of being hurt in general,. Something he hasn't showed as much before, liking and enjoying life of course, but never being afraid to be in the first line even if it meant being hurt; Now he acts like he is truly scared of dying.

And he lets things involving Aoi not being his first priority. Refusing to listen to Natsuhiko plan to even try to heal her. Akane has always been showed to be really proactive anyways, that's one of his main character trait. So seeing that he is putting something for a later date and it involves Aoi can be seen as a little bit strange. Akane still loves her deeply and all but he seems to have other plans now, which we learn later in the clock keeper arc. He is not even looking at her directly, having an air of melancholy when he announces he will heal her but not now

That's more of a stretch now, but I think it's pretty safe to assume that Akane has known since a long time what it meant to be the clock keeper of the present, that they had the power to change the timeline. But nothing special has been happening to make the clock keepers take this drastic decision, especially since we know that nothing has been ever changed since the Yugi Twins 4th birthday at least. Which is why he probably never thought about it before. But now that he knows the school mysteries are more important, not just dangerous supernaturals but are protecting the land, and that Hanako has been destroying the yorishiros (which to me, seem to be the seals to keep away the God from the pit/the God Sumire was supposed to marry) he seems to be more aware of this duty in general.

Or if he was made aware of it recently anyways, it's something that the clock keepers must have brought up before the fall festival, being something that even someone as 'Carpe Diem, it is what it is' Aoi Akane may not be able to entirely ignore.

He has been forced A LOT in his role lately too and he clearly doesn't really like it, even if he is good at it.

He finally say 'we' when talking about the clock keepers, and consider even himself as the biggest threat of the school. He doesn't know what to think directly of the supernaturals or seven mysteries now. Knowing that they have an important role to fulfill but still not trusting them at all, knowing of their dangerous tendencies to hurt humans. He can't even look Teru in the eyes when he asks him if the clock keepers are planning to change the timeline over and over again. His feelings for the clock keepers being clearly a difficult case for him to tackle down even if he pretends it's not.

I always said this kinda as a joke, that Akane had the role of a Chosen One but went 'fck no' with it. But I think that it really is this kind of stuff now. Like for Nene who is 'the Kannagi' of the current time and get to make choices and stuff she doesn't want to do. Akane is the same with his role as the clock keeper of the present. Because no matter what he says, he kinda has accepted this fate now, preferring to know what is happening (since he realizes how ignorant he was in the "to the far shore" arc), and having a way to be able to change things. Sacrifying his chance to be 'a normal student'.

But he is not happy with any of it, being the one on the front row to endure all of the supernaturals choices, even knowing that if they don't change back the timeline, he will be the last one to remember. And as said previously, he is now a part of it! He is of course still more human than supernatural but he still acknowledges his role way more than before. Akane hates the way supernaturals work and now what he is doing? Being one of the reason the world is in this state. Of course it's taking a toll on him.

Of course, he doesn't accept everything right away, like Aoi's engagement, it's at first played for jokes but even then, it's understandable with how far their relationship evolved in the previous timeline. He is now thrown into the role of 'the childhood friend who never stood a chance in the first place'. I do think he has a right to be a little bit upset

But after understanding that technically, it's not that much of a big deals in the current events of everything else, since at first most people seems okay, he goes right away to do what the clock keepers asked him to do. Even going to go ask for Teru's help when he knows how much he destroyed his trust.

To finish this long stuff, I think the real big ''death flags' for what is happening right now is of course the fact that he got cursed by the red house (which is a supernatural who has already tried to fool him in the og timeline btw) .

And that there is a chance, like said earlier, that there is only one Akane like him for now, and that he could get stuck here or at least not coming back entirely as the Aoi Akane we knew in the manga (a chance for him to become a full supernatural for example, to be forever now the clock keeper of the present) But for this tbh we don't know a lot it's really more speculation because we know nothing of what could happen to him particulary.

My fav 'suspicious af thing he said' for now in the new timeline is this.

The official translation goes " .. And will love my whole life to the day I die and even beyond that."

When he starts the manga with this.

With the same belief than Hanako that 'death is the end' and now he is considering the After Death, with everything he saw of course, but specifically for him in this case.

Bonus: a thing that is apparently confirmed to be a lie, or he can bend the rules, but he didn't say this in front of Teru and Nene the first time.

And something that I truly think he doesn't know anything about too (my brain truly think Kako and Mirai choose him, and I have some delulu proofs but I digress) Akane do not know sht about the clock keepers and especially doesn't see when people show clear interest in him

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TWO MEEEEE

I just woke up uh

Melusine birthday

Next ask you can delete bc I just had that idea bouncing around

HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY SORRY I'M LATE BUT I HOPE YOU HAD A WONDERFUL TIME

despite all that's happened, you still remember your birthday in the real world- it feels like forever ago, and maybe it was in Teyvat. you're not sure about real life, if any time is passing at all, but several months have passed in this odd, beautiful, bloodthirsty world, and when you wake up tucked away in your shell cottage you suddenly realize it's your birthday. no one knows, of course, it wasn't exactly high on your agenda when you were running from those hunting you. but now you're safe! you're away from everyone who wants to hurt you, amongst friends and family. tapping your stumpy little feet in delight, you pitter-patter over to a little table in the corner, stacked high with paper and pencils and different colors. with a hum you begin fashioning a little conical birthday hat for yourself. not really to wear, but just to have, as a way to remember the passing of time

Foul Legacy pokes his head into the room with a chitter, coming over to look curiously over your shoulder. he blinks, scrutinizing the paper hat in your mittens, before suddenly gasping and trilling in realization. a pair of claws wrap around you as Legacy scoops you up and joyfully twirls you around in midair, hugging you close before gently setting you down. the little hat is still in your hands, your tail happily wagging as he helps you set it between your two antennae. the Creator's birthday- YOUR birthday- it's something that should be celebrated by the entirety of Teyvat. but you don't mind that it's not. in fact, you don't care. all you need are your siblings and friends, keeping you in safe, happy company while you heal and begin to flourish again

you skip back to your little table, and begin making another hat for Foul Legacy