005 - Tumblr Posts

i was thinking about a cowboy hargreeves au and five came to mind first

they're already days beyond the argument of the outfit. its just the top hat that five is mad about

interrupting mh to tua post

Teenage Mercenary Aesthetics

So, if you don’t know this webcomic download Webtoon right now and read Teenage Mercenary!

Summary: At the age of nine, Ijin Yu lost his parents and was the sole survivor of a plane crash. Stranded in a foreign land, alone and amnesiac, Ijin was forced to become a child mercenary to stay alive. Ten years later, he returns to his home country, Korea, to reunite with his family and live a normal life. But the past has an awful way of dredging itself back up …

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“What’s in a name? It brings meaning to the meaningless. Because a name gives recognition.”

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Different Scents

This idea is sort of small and random, but if I get any more inspiration for other characters, I'll add it here!

Ijin: fresh linen, the steel blade of knives, the rubbery smell of bandages, medical alcohol, sometimes the faint whiff of blood, freshly cut vegetables. He doesn’t wear cologne so he smells very fresh, but his scent is naturally intoxicating and he smells appealing without even trying. When you hug him you just want to stay in his arms and inhale his scent for as long as possible.

Dayeon: flowery shampoo, subtle sugary perfume, sweet lip balm, spices from cooking, the warm heady scent of lit candles. When you catch her scent it's like a shot to the gut, it's so sweet and inviting. People are captivated when they smell her, they want to stay by her side forever.

Grandpa Yu: cotton, apples, butterscotch candies, aftershave, glossy photographs, that scent of old cologne no one anyone wears anymore. He just smells really comforting and familiar, like someone safe.

Dushik Cha: cigarette smoke, expensive cologne, scotch, hair gel, that metallic scent that comes from both his bat and blood, homemade food, the faint whiff of car grease.

Major Kang: sandalwood, freshly baked bread, the fancy soaps Jiye bought for him, spicy cologne, the slightest hint of gingerbread. He smells very homey and when Ijin first hugged him, he was grasping the back of his shirt so hard it became wrinkled. It was the first time he realized that touch didn’t always hurt.

Liam: gunpowder, sweat, cheap cologne, the faint whiff of cigarettes, coffee grounds, that dry scent that tells you he’s carrying money in his pockets. He's got a musky scent, but it's comforting all the same.

Maya: jasmine shampoo, pine trees, leather, coconut lotion, the faint scent of smoke. She doesn't like perfume because it overwhelms her and hurts her nose, so she smells very natural.

002: envelopes, printer ink, the cold metal of his handgun, expensive liquor, the imperceptible scent of takeout. He likes to wear expensive colognes because he never had that growing up, and now that he has the freedom to choose what he wants he gets the best luxury brands he never could have afforded. Also, since he is the current leader of the Numbers he feels like he has an image to keep up.

016: gun oil, machinery, pencil dust, old books, buttery popcorn, the faded aroma of baked sweets, the earthy scent of rain on hot pavement.

032: campfires, cinnamon, late night espresso shots, sharpies, the faint scent of blood, that familiar smell computers seem to have.

𝒕𝒂𝒈 //* 𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕡

005, 006, 036 and 001 from teenage mercenary?

005 says: Trans Rights

(Sorry, I only do one character per post)

*Holding a bloody scalpel and 7 crumpled up pieces of paper, hair comically disheveled and visible eye bags* Yeah no I totally understand you Ayame

Trial 1 - 005 Memory report

Record no.1

I want to talk to someone, though we're in a fight again. Mhm, I know, if you're a part of my fate, we'll always come back together, so I don't need to worry. Meadow flowers, fluffy clouds covering my head, taking messy photos that only we will keep. Look, there's a cat! We exchange cosmetics and aroma candles; of course, bracelets of our colors as well. It's dark in the park, though I think it's supposed to be daytime; I don't see the stars either. But I guess they wouldn't be seen in the city… I receive a fish-shaped cake from a smudged, flickering silhouette. I can't remember the taste anymore. Huh? What is this weird cold? The decorative pillow that you gifted me lies in my bed, next to all of my beloved plush toys. I put my head on your shoulder; we point out what around us reminds of your current story and laugh; then you write our names on the riverfront’s fence. I really didn't want to wake up today, but not that I have a choice! I carry an anchor in my chest everywhere with me and doze off during classes. With the sound of alarm clock — one of my favorite songs, of course — I open several blank chats, deliver good mornings and fall asleep again. Huh? Where was the true love?

Record no.2

Once I stay on my own at home, I sing along to my favorite songs! The ones that fill me with energy, or perhaps with a sweet, warm melancholy, ah, but my pitch breaks at songs that are too slow— I can't utter a sound in this thick water. Nothing is working out; I'm locked in the helplessness of having no skill nor confidence. Mhm. Putting away my phone, I sit in silence. I'm tired after school, you're busy with the theater club; we'll go out on the weekend, surely… Huh? Wait, I have another audience. Oh, and you need to host a group game… How annoying, I don't care then. I’m going to be good today. Don't feel and don't show too much, no tears and no requests, smile whenever you're talked to; capricious kids get scolded, patient kids receive a reward at the end of the year — I learned this rule right after my first breath. Kind of suffocating… Looking up at the white ceiling instead of the star-filled sky, the light barely gets through… How do people write stories? I would like to try my hand at it too. …Hm, but keeping it as a secret would be horrible. Because I'm watched and I'm a proper friend—

Record no.3

I know it's not that bad. It's also not serious at all. I keep quiet and nod and listen, but no one is talking to me. I want to run away from this place. Hate! Hate! Hate! Where are we going today? You squeeze ▆ hand tightly. With life slowly returning to nature, there's now such a nice breeze and a blooming view! Let's take messy photos that only we will keep; huh, but ▆ really dislikes having ▆ photo taken. Hm, what a shame. You do enjoy smiling and posing a lot, though! Though you can't look at these photos afterwards. Ah, it'd be easier to get reborn. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. Don't come near. The spring sky is falling down. If there was another you, completely identical — would you hurt her, insult her, and remind her of the worthlessness that only you and her can see? What a stupid clichê — a person with a burning self-hatred yet a kind soul within; those who aren't kind to themselves aren't kind to others as well. I want to remember only nice things. I want to remember only nice things. I want to remember only nice things. I wish I could remember only nice things. I wish I could remember only nice things.