#A lot of things are already stored in my brain somewhere

[amethystina]

hello dear, hope you're doing well physically & mentally. lots of hugs for you!

i've been wondering about the physical touch in Gahan's dynamic especially. we all know how much physical abuse Yohan has gone through in his childhood, the kidnapping by Sunah, him willingly explode a whole ass room with bombs with him inside it too but pushing away his loved one out.

now compare to Gaon. this Bambi has better experience with physical touch in his life seeing as how he's comfortable leaning to Soohyun seeking comfort while grieving for the loss of his parents. reaching out to Yohan so easily when he sees Yohan woke up from a nightmare. how he reaches for Kkomi and put her on his lap, the lovely and respectful interaction with Elijah.

I always have this thought in my head that it would be tricky for them to have this physical touch without one misunderstood the meaning of one's action. personally i bounced back and forth of the idea Yohan can manipulate and charm ppl with his sex prowess. just because he knows being seduction and sex goes hand in hand with manipulation. It does seem like Yohan can be the type to do especially that the way he gazes at Gaon & Sunah. But we all know he has brother complex lol, while with Sunah he can get the rush of feeling powerful having someone around his level to play with. Either that idea or I think Yohan never has the chance to explore sex bcs it's too much physical touches and too much emotional investment in such a short period of time. Perhaps he can have sex while his sex partner is tied up, not touching Yohan but he's the one who has control to touch them, hence why the kinky dom Yohan exist. So i think domestic touches will be like taming stray or feral creatures. It would take a long time and patience on both sides to be in the safe space and trust.

now.. wdyt Gahan would be in if they were already in a romantic relationship. How would they interact? Who would initiate what? What difference would it be for them in domestic/ innocent interactions and in bed? I would like to know your thoughts on this one. I wish I can pour my detailed thoughts for this but i'm afraid to scare you off with my long-ass paragraphs hahaha it's been a while since I have conversations analyzing character's personality and their depths, just geeking out about them and it can be intense and intimidating for people if I pour all my thoughts out for these shit lol

I wish you well! Take your time on your recovery & in writing, we'll always be here for you!

I'm currently in pain from shoveling too much snow but, other than that, I'm pretty okay. Thank you for asking 💜

Physical touch is a very fascinating subject when it comes to these two, isn't it? Probably because there's so much tension between them.

Anyhow! I actually think that Yo Han has had a lot of sex but, like, only with the right people? He may have been abused as a child (and definitely has trauma and trust issues because of it) but he's also a very clever and intuitive man. And he'd know how to find partners he can have casual, enthusiastic, and fun sex with. Like, some random woman or man he meets at a bar who thinks he's hot? Definitely. Some random woman or man he meets in a professional setting who is clearly trying to gain something from having sex with him? Absolutely not.

Having sex is a very intimate act in some ways, but exactly how intimate depends a lot on the partner, the setting, and the circumstances. Yo Han would only go for people he's not feeling threatened by or knows he can control without exerting too much effort. But I also think he'd enjoy the challenge of wooing people. Like, how fast can he make this woman shed her clothes? What should he say to make this man swoon? Flirting would be a game for him, too, but "winning" just means he and the other person get to have sex so it's actually pretty harmless.

And I think he'd be fine doing it with strangers and letting them touch him. Because he doesn't actually seem averse to touch in the drama? Unused to it, yes — especially the tender kind — but not scared of or uncomfortable with it. He puts himself and his body through a lot, yes, but never in a reckless or self-destructive way. More often than not, he knows exactly what the risks are and deems them worth whatever payoff comes at the end (unlike Ga On who just... throws himself into danger without much thought).

One of the few (if not the only time) Yo Han seems genuinely scared of physical touch is when Ga On tries to comfort him after his nightmare. Which says a lot, I think. He's more scared of a touch meant to soothe than one meant to hurt, since he doesn't want to show weakness. He doesn't know how he will react to a touch like that and would therefore rather push it away.

But he doesn't even flinch when Sun Ah raises a hand to slap him, which is definitely a situation where some (but not all) who have been abused in the past would react. So, clearly, he's not as traumatised as he could have been, or has learned to control it enough for it not to show too much. To me, Yo Han doesn't seem averse to casual touching and does it quite a lot himself, like towing Ga On around at the gala, lightly patting Lawyer Ko's arm, offering his arm to Jin Joo at the other gala etc.

And I personally don't think there will be all that many misunderstandings between him and Ga On as to what a certain touch means? They both seem way too smart for that? There might still be general misunderstandings, of course, but not when it comes to that. If nothing else, the intent behind touches is something Yo Han had to learn long ago because you can't manipulate people only using sexual prowess. He needs more than one method and that means recognising what different touches mean, when to give them etc.

My personal headcanon for Yo Han is that he has no trouble using his sex appeal to manipulate when appropriate, but his strength lies in how he adapts to the situation, sometimes being kind and understanding, sometimes being firm and commanding, and, sometimes, being flirty and sensual.

The way he prefers to have sex is for fun, though, and he enjoys it a lot with the right people. But he'd never do it if he felt uncomfortable or threatened by his partner, and he's good enough at reading people that he'd know the other person's intentions long before the actual sex happens. So, for example, I don't think he'd ever want to have sex with Sun Ah even if he could tie her up. He'd be too suspicious to actually enjoy it xD

To me, Yo Han is the kind of man who has a lot of trauma, but has also worked a lot on overcoming said trauma. If he did so in a healthy way I will leave unsaid, but I don't think he'd allow himself to be wary of other people's touch. I think Yo Han would be frustrated by his own limitations if he could only have sex with people while they're tied up, simply because he's uncomfortable with them touching him. That's too big of a weakness — something someone could exploit. And he'd train that out of himself as soon as possible. His whole thing is that he's unshakeable and impenetrable and that's a choice — something he's putting effort into being. And so I, personally, can't see him allowing himself to have that kind of "flaw."

As a friend of mine said: "He's a man even more in control of himself than he is others."

That said, I think he enjoys tying people up because it gives him added control and makes it more fun to play with his victims partners. So I'm all for Dom!Yo Han — he is one in every fic I've written so far — I just think he does that because he likes it, not because it's the only way he can have sex.

And, to be entirely honest with you? I don't think Yo Han needs to tie people up in order to control them in the bedroom. I'm pretty sure that man can make his partners do pretty much anything he wants them to, without using a single tool or restraint. Because that is the kind of Dom he is.

ANYHOW. To your questions! (boy did I get derailed there for a while)

Ga On is definitely the cuddly one. Like, once he gets comfortable, he's the one who gives and asks for hugs, will walk up behind Yo Han and wrap his arms around him, snuggle up on the couch, put his head in Yo Han's lap etc. Because I definitely agree with you that the casual, domestic touches will be more difficult for Yo Han. He's used to giving some of them, like pats on the shoulder, a supportive hand, fixing Ga On's clothes — practical things. But the ones that are just because? Clearly, that's out of his wheelhouse and he's too prideful to ask for them.

Again, not because he's broken, scared, or doesn't understand them, but simply because he's not used to them. And he doesn't like feeling insecure or appearing weak, so he wouldn't risk asking and making a mistake.

So it'll fall upon Ga On to offer them, which he of course does. He's a pretty physical person with the people he trusts, provided that politeness and such allows it. Like, clearly, one of the reasons why Ga On doesn't touch Yo Han much in the drama is due to the workplace hierarchy, the fact that Yo Han is older (and it's considered rude to touch someone older without their permission), and just Yo Han's overall... Yo Han-ness. But once Ga On gets free rein?

Yo Han won't know what hit him.

But it'll take time for them to get used to it, yes. Like, just teaching Yo Han how to return casual hugs that aren't in a life-or-death situation is going to take a while. But he'll get used to it eventually and while I don't think he'll ever be the one to initiate certain things — like the more cuddly hugs that might make him look clingy — he'd always reciprocate when Ga On does.

Yo Han is a little too prideful to ask for cuddles, but he'll graciously agree to them when Ga On asks him to give them.

(He and Komi have that in common, I guess)

As for sex, that depends? I think they can both initiate it, but Yo Han enjoys it more when Ga On does so, just because he likes seeing Ga On horny and desperate xD Yo Han is definitely the one in charge, though. That's not to say that Ga On can't snatch control from him or throw him off-balance from time to time, but probably only during brief moments when he's being particularly cheeky and bratty. I think they both enjoy the push-and-pull — the fact that Ga On challenges Yo Han is a part of the thrill — but are more comfortable when Yo Han is in control.

Especially since Yo Han is very good at it.

All that said, I do think — and this might be an unpopular and scandalous opinion — that Yo Han could, eventually, let Ga On top him. But we're talking years down the line, when they're so comfortable with each other that there are no secrets or doubts. Because, yes, Yo Han is a man who prides himself on having control but, eventually, he's also going to realise that having control and having power isn't necessarily the same thing. And being in charge and having control isn't necessarily the same thing, either. Ga On has a tremendous amount of power over Yo Han despite not being in charge or in control the majority of the time.

I mean, there's a reason why they say that the sub is the one with the real power since they're the ones willingly handing it over to someone else. And if they can give it, they can also revoke that privilege — and there is absolutely nothing the Dom can do about that. In that situation, the Dom is, quite literally, powerless.

And I think, especially as he gets older and softer, Yo Han would realize that trusting Ga On to top him is, in fact, a sign of his own strength. And I don't mean that in a "real men know how to bottom" kind of way. But in a "I love this man and I trust him and myself enough to let him have this power over me because that, in itself, means I have power."

But, again, that's several years into their relationship and 99,9% of the time, Yo Han is the one topping. But, every once in a while, Ga On can be the one in charge. As a treat.

... I may have gotten off track again.

But I'd say that's about the gist of it? There are, of course, more specific examples and details, too.

Yo Han is definitely the one doing most of the dirty talk, but Ga On will not hesitate to use his doe-eyes to his advantage and say the most kinky, outrageous things sometimes, just for the pleasure of watching Yo Han bluescreen. I also think that Yo Han will develop a habit of burrowing his nose in Ga On's hair when they're hugging/cuddling. And, as I've mentioned in a previous post, Yo Han is the little spoon 90% of the time. I also think that Ga On is going to be pretty shy and prudish when it comes to talking about sex and anything relating to it (at least at the beginning), but kinky as fuck when it comes to the actual acts. Like, he can't say "cock" without wincing, but he'll gladly let Yo Han tie him up and fuck him so roughly and thoroughly he's covered in bruises afterwards.

I really could go on but then we'd be here forever and I have work tomorrow x'D

So I'm hoping you got something out of this long rant! Thank you so much for the ask! I admit that I don't often spend time thinking about fictional characters' sex lives, but I apparently have a lot of opinions regardless. Though, to be honest, I think Yo Han and Ga On is the couple where I've had to think about it the most, since physical closeness (of both the sexual and more innocent kind) is extremely important for their dynamic. So yeah.

Take care, darling! 💜

#Amethystina Replies #fr-wiwiw #I genuinely had to think on this one for a while before I was able to answer #A lot of things are already stored in my brain somewhere #But the tricky part is formulating it into a somewhat coherent reply #And I still don't know if I managed #I always feel like I forget so many details and aspects x'D #I stand by that thing about Yo Han bottoming btw #I think that would be wonderful character development for him #To eventually be able to trust someone that much #And you KNOW Ga On would be amazingly considerate #So yeah #That's my headcanon #And you can pry it from my cold dead hands

[slavghoul]

Interview from Metal Hammer 8/2023

LIFE LESSONS from TOBIAS FORGE

Shock rock, bad glam bands and wanting to be Venom: inside the brain of Ghost's benevolent overlord

Tobias Forge is the mastermind behind one of the 21st century's hottest metal bands, but even he’ll admit that success was a long time in the making. Hailing from the Swedish city of Linköping, the Ghost frontman dabbled in everything from death metal to glam before donning the iconic Papal attire and paint to transform into Papa Emeritus, transcending his roots to become a larger-than-life character. Here are the key parables he has to share, gleaned from more than 25 years on the heavy metal frontlines.

MUSIC AND MOVIES ARE GATEWAYS TO OTHER WORLDS

“Linköping was a nice city to grow up in. It wasn’t so small you felt like you were cramped in a village, but it’s small enough that you’d still want to eventually move somewhere else. You’d have access to all these gateways to other worlds through the record stores and the local video store. My dreams started there - everything I do now, I dreamt back there.”

I WAS A TEENAGE HEADBANGER

“I had a teenage brother growing up, so I had a free pass into teenage culture. Whatever they consumed, I got a whiff of - how they dressed, what they watched on TV, what films they rented... The lifestyle and expression that meant most to me was shock rock. Twisted Sister were a wrecking ball into my life with I Wanna Rock. That song made me want to bounce!”

THE HEAVIER IT GOT, THE DEEPER I WANTED TO GO

“When I first heard Candlemass, I was eight and I was blown away. I already liked Black Sabbath, Metallica and Motorhead through my brother, but Candlemass were local and sounded so heavy, it was like doomsday. King Diamond and Candlemass served as a segue for me to discover death metal and black metal in the early 90s. It became my calling. From the ages of 12 to 22, I spent my life in death and black metal bands.”

FOLLOW YOUR HEART (AND SOMETIMES YOUR WALLET)

“My mom is from Stockholm, so when I was 15 and started saying I wanted to move there, she was just like ‘Finish mandatory school’ and we moved together [after I graduated]. I moved back to Linköping when I was 25, because Stockholm is a big metropolitan place and it’s not fun living in those places if you don’t have money. Now I’m in Stockholm again; it’s more fun now I can afford it!”

HEAD IN THE CLOUDS, FEET ON THE GROUND

“I learned the hard way in the late 90s that wanting to play 80s-inspired death metal with my band Repugnant was     painfully out of touch with what was going on at the time. It broke my heart; I wanted us to be signed to Roadrunner and support Slayer. That never happened unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately, as it kept me grounded for a few more years and if those things had happened maybe I wouldn't be here today.”

TAKE CHANCES, BUT STAND YOUR GROUND

“Repugnant had a close shave with success. We signed to the label Hammerheart, which at the time felt like we’d made it because the first thing they did was take us out on our first tour, supporting the American band Macabre. They were a favourite band of ours - still are, and whenever we play Chicago they come to the shows - and at that point it felt like we might be going somewhere, but we quickly parted ways with Hammerheart because we couldn’t agree. It felt like our chance and we’d blown it.”

NOT ALL 80S BANDS WERE CREATED EQUAL

“With Crashdiet, we never really went beyond our home. I can’t say how many shows we did, but I don’t think it was more than a handful. For me especially there was conflict with the singer, Dave Lepard. We were friends, but he clearly wanted to take his band into some sort of glam-sleaze direction, whereas when I think of ‘glam’ I’m more Hanoi Rocks and Guns N’ Roses - never, ever the other bands. I know Poison kinda came before a lot of the latecomers, but to me they were repellent. Dave wanted to go all neon and I wanted it so that if we were glam, we’d be Hanoi Rocks meets Lords Of The New Church or The Dead Boys. I don’t want to be fucking Stryper! Fuck that!”

THERE’S NO POINT TRYING TO FOLLOW FASHION

“It was a confusing time in the early 2000s – rock was all of a sudden in fashion because of bands like Franz Ferdinand and Kaiser Chiefs. Everyone was always looking for the next big rock band and in Sweden The Hives were huge, as were The Soundtrack Of Our Lives, The Hellacopters, Backyard Babies...so many rock bands! But there we were in Subvision, influenced by The Dead Boys, with a little-too-long hair, leather jackets, just a little too ‘metal’... yuck! You’re supposed to be more indie; heavy metal is about having the biggest dick and indie is the opposite.”

FIRST IMPRESSIONS REALLY DO COUNT

“I hated The Strokes when they first came out. Back then, everyone described them as being so natural, that they weren’t interested in being rock stars, and I was like, ‘No. They didn’t wake up looking like that.' They chose to do that to be rock stars. And they can really play! Then when First Impressions Of Earth came out it was like, ‘There you go! That's what they really sound like! After that, I loved The Strokes, because they were showing they actually did love the music, but a lot of indie rockers treated it like it was their sell-out record.”

HAVE A VISION IN MIND

“Ghost started with a song, Stand By Him, which ultimately came out on our first record. I wrote it spontaneously, as an experiment - almost a joke, if you will, in 2006. When I recorded it the first time, I had no equipment in my home, so I had to go to a friend’s house. We did this very rough demo. He said it was great. He’d been in Subvision, Repugnant and Crashdiet with me, but we’d stopped playing together. He was like, ‘Can we form a new band?’ and I was like, ‘This song is the only thing I have. If I can come up with two more songs and there’s a pattern, then of course.’ But they needed to be as playful and spontaneous, and sure enough they were.”

PRESSURE CAN DO WONDERS

“Around 2008, when Ghost were first getting properly started, my girlfriend told me she was pregnant with twins. I never said it out loud, but I was preparing for my dream not coming true - maybe I wouldn’t become a rock star, I’d never be successful... So I had to at least have something that I could live with, a hobby that I could feel strongly about and get all my inclinations filtered through. I wanted to play metal, but also write pop music, have this horror rock show with theatre... Still taking inspiration from Venom pictures in 1982 where they looked like bikers surrounded by smoke and red lights. Ghost felt like a combination of all those things. Lo and behold, when I didn’t have all the time in the world, like I had before and gotten nowhere, when I could only put so much effort in, everything changed.”

THE MYTHOS IS NICE, BUT ONLY THE MUSIC MATTERS

“It was so weird, being threatened with a ‘reveal’ [Tobias’s public identity was revealed after ex-members took legal action against him in 2017I, as if people knowing who I was would be such a turn-off that they’d never listen to Ghost again. Here I am, most of my life wanting to be known, but then I was fighting to be unknown? What a paradox!”

ROLL WITH THE PUNCHES

“I’ve always tried to be like a general – have a goal, like, ‘Let’s take that castle’, but knowing that things can change in the field. You need to conduct yourself with a certain level of elasticity. I know I’m a control freak and want things to be done in a certain way, but I’m also aware things never work out that way.”

CHALLENGE YOURSELF

“One of the biggest weaknesses with modern metal - and horror - is that it’s being created and curated by people who only like that thing, so it becomes regurgitation. The best horror movies I’ve seen - Jaws, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, The Exorcist, The Omen - were made by people who never made horror films elsewhere. They wouldn’t limit themselves. If you don’t like other things, that’s fine, but if you ever feel stuck creatively it might just be that you’re sticking too close to home. I can’t even imagine just sticking to one lane these days.”

#the band ghost #tobias forge #interview

[ghouljams]

Doitdoitsoitdoitdoit especially if we're talking a trauma heeling fic the way you know him has me addicted. Nature him in the nastiest of ways. For the good of us all.

Simon "Ghost" Riley, yeah I know him.

I think being in the 141 as an omega is a new thing for him, he's always been in the military while he was flipped alpha(which is important to remember for later) so he's never had to deal with omega shit while deployed. Officially he's designated as an alpha, he's an omega that flies under the radar because as far as society is modernized people always hold onto old notions about the way endotypes look/act. Ghost doesn't look like an omega, and he's not one to let anyone close enough to smell that he's an omega. I think a lot of his hormone issues are related to stress directly, his body flipping to something reactive(alpha) when put under duress. The 141 is an incredibly stable pack and environment under Price, less stress means no flip-flopping. So the 141 is the longest he's ever gone with what I(and Ghost lowkey) would consider his true endotype: omega.

It's hell when his first "military" heat hits. He's belligerent and itching for a fight, everyone looks at him wrong, he has no nesting materials, he ends up shoved in a corner of Price's office shaking from stress because he just can't deal with it all. He needs somewhere small and safe. Price is safe, Ghost can fit that into his world when the heat hormones take over, Price is the head of their little pack, Price is safe.

Price is also fuming mad, not at Ghost, but at whatever Muppet took down his endotype wrong. There are allowances made for omegas, time off for heats, extra bedding, suppressants if they want them. Soap wanders into the office and nearly has a panic attack himself because his instincts are screaming that someone in his pack is in trouble and he isn't helping them. Ghost punches him in the mouth for attempting to corral him to the barracks when it's safe in Price's office. Gaz gets called in to take him to medical and shoots Price a look that says they'll talk about this later.

This is where I start to diverge from established omegaverse Canon and say I don't think that Ghost as an omega is interested in receiving penetrative sex. He's an incredibly dominant omega in that sense, but also not? I am cooking a little alpha!reader/omega!Ghost fic in my brain rn(Goose fic u already know). I think it's a need for control on Ghost's part, lingering alpha instincts to micromanage things, a need to know exactly what is happening even through his heat. He doesn't like being touched on a good day, why would he like it when he's at his worst?

I also think that among the various tortures the Roba would have put Ghost through humiliation would have been a big one. Tearing him down so Roba can build him back and brainwash him. What's more humiliating to an alpha than being penetrated? Especially when Ghost already has the stress of his father's prejudice in his head, the experience would have been that much worse. Yeah I don't think he wants to get fucked, even in his heats. Which is fine, he doesn't need to in order to satisfy the itch under his skin there's plenty of other ways to get the energy out. (I don't think SA is mentioned in the comics explicitly, but also if you're going to hang someone by their ribs why would you draw the line at rape? I think Ghost was tortured every way Roba could think of)

My ideas for omegaverse don't have alphas wanting to jump every omega in heat, they do want to jump their partners to a certain extent, but I think for most of them it's just a very strong desire to take care of the omega. Like if you saw someone having a panic attack in the grocery store, you'd probably want to help them and be a little anxious yourself. It's like that but cranked up to 11. Price and Soap get all out of sorts about Ghost being a freak because he will not let them fulfill their instinct to get him blankets and food. Gaz just gets what's needed without asking lol he's not fighting with Ghost on this and someone has to keep this place running.

After that first heat though I think the 141 sort of... quietly acknowledges that Ghost is an omega. Gaz and Soap slink to him with their problems and somehow they feel better when he bluntly tells them what to do about whatever emotional bullshit they're dealing with. Price brings Ghost in on more meetings with recruits because somehow having both of them in the room puts people more at ease than one or the other. Soap naps on Ghost on the couch. Gaz passed off a tee-shirt for Ghost to add to the nest he's growing in his room. No one says anything but it's there. He's given the room to be himself without judgement of prejudice and I think he takes to it like a fish to water.

Ghost to me very much embodies a slow healing process. His room at the barracks goes from spartan essentials to warm and well nested, he gets more comfortable with managing the pack, falls asleep on Price at one point and Price just lights up(happy omega, feels safe enough to be vulnerable around him, he's taking care of things right, good job, good boy Price).

I do think this au works best within the cowboy or fae universe, so I'll say that I think Ghost is on his starting to get a handle on being an omega when he retires and moves to the farm, but he has a minor panic about potentially flipping again. He hasn't had a type change in years, but he never knows. (he doesn't flip, but he worries about it for months after he moves to the farm)

#ghoul speaks #simon ghost riley #a/b/o #tw torture #tw rape #mentions of it at least #I won't be writing any noncon for this au since I don't see a reason for it #at least in my version of omegaverse #wow this got long and I wrote most of it at 2 am #so let me know if it's completely unintelligible

[alexiswritingstuff]

Saved by the unexpected.

Pairing: Frank Castle x teen! reader (Gender Neutral)

Other appearances: Micro, aka David Lieberman. 

Summary: Your run to the grocery store goes sideways on the way back home that leads you to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and with a fresh gunshot wound. Upon waking up you find yourself somewhere unknown with people you had never seen... Or so you thought.

Warnings: gun fights, murder, gun shot wound, mentions of other injuries like cuts and bruises, implied parent loss. 

Be aware of possible spelling mistakes or sentences that are worded wrong. I read over my writing before posting but stuff still manages to slip under my radar!

A/n: Bro I really am bad at creating titles for fics. Anyway, I watched The Punisher a few months ago, and previously finished DareDevil, and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about a certain Mr. Castle. That man in general already activated my daddy issues and then I watched season 2, and... Yeah, that was a lot, but this is what my brain created! 

Like I say whenever I write for new characters, because this is my first attempt, the way portray them and the characteristics may not be a 100% accurate, so bear with me while I find my footing.

Either way, I hope you enjoy reading! 

It was supposed a morning like any other. Started with a bright sky and chirping birds before slowly melding into the warm afternoon. 

You had just done the weekly shop, collecting everyday items, things that would give the most important nutrients, with basically the same amount in snacks and drinks. 

I mean, what else could they mean by a balanced diet. 

The main route you would usually take had been closed off by the time you had finished with the store, the road cracked from something unknown, and that meant that you had to take a detour. 

It was one that you had walked through many times before, leading you almost directly towards where your trailer was stationed without having to wind round block after block of apartments. 

So, the decision to choose it was simple. 

You took of down the pathway, that was slowly becoming overgrown, between two very large buildings which almost looked as if they could reach the sky from your angle.

This part was more commonly known as the run down area. 

The complexes on either side of you were empty. Most had the windows boarded up, due to the lack of ability to get them repaired, and the walls themselves were stained from a plethora of things, parts even looking like they were about to crack and crumble. 

It was a lot harder to get funding for these buildings as the further you walked down the path, the further you got a way from the main street. For the occasional tourist, or people who had a stuffed schedule, they wouldn’t know what was down here. Which usually meant that they wouldn’t even try to find out.

And soon, it took its toll. Most, if not all, had been abandoned unless someone was able to turn something into an apartment of some kind. 

You moved under the overhang section created by a walkway that connected the two opposing buildings, and honestly it sort of felt like a tunnel due to its width. But eventually, you arrived back in the open and by god the area was massive. 

To the left, behind a wall that separated a descending pathway from the  ground levelled with your own feet, was a car park. 

The size of it would give the implication that there was a mass of vehicles coming in and out during the week, easy access for people working in the surrounding buildings. 

But now, it was always empty.

… Or it was supposed to be. 

In the furthest corner of the parking lot was this very specific looking handful of cars. A sight that should have been acknowledge as the first sign. Your first warning. 

It was too late.

All of a sudden, there was this echo that felt like it drilled through your ear. It was violent through the air, one that rung for almost a full minute through the complex to your right. 

It wasn’t something you really questioned off the bat. I mean, the building was old. It could’ve been a loose panel finally deciding to break free from the ceiling, or a cracked wall weighing in on itself. Or even someone trying to fix up the building?

And all of those assumptions weren’t exactly bad... They were just the wrong ones. 

Something you realised the moment the sound appeared once again. 

Whatever it was reverberated from the broken windows in a way that properly allowed the ability to hear in its entirety. It was closer this time, more full. “What the...”

It was a series of bassy pops, collectively almost imitating the blast of fireworks, but within the sounds was this sort of clinking like something had fallen to the floor. 

And though it was a very muffled detail that took a moment for your brain to register, it didn’t stop the cogs from making their final turn. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Within the same moment that you made the decision to practically slide to the side, trying not to completely slam into the wall that you ended up behind, the doors of the building burst open with such force that it echoed around for ages.

There was chorus of yelling, even more shots, and heavy boots that practically skid against the concrete as they moved. It was as if you just stumbled upon a damn army.

You were sat on the ground, one leg stretched out from your hurried movements while the other was still bent at the knee, ready to move if necessary. The backpack was still strapped around your shoulders meaning that the further you tried to press against the brick wall, the more certain items began to stab into your back.

Your heart was hammering, chest heaving, as you continuously looked up and down the path you sat on. It was the only thing you could see. Everything was happening on the other side of the wall, so pretty much all you could do was just sit and listen for people that might decide to come your way.

You fought the urge to cry out when bullets skimmed the top of the wall, causing little clumps of rubble and dust to hit the top of your head. “Why me, why me, why me!” you hissed through a whisper, trying to ruffle the stuff out of your hair. 

Hurried shouts were passing back and forth across the huge car park like a game of tennis, though it seemed that due to the other sounds that followed, and the panicked state of your mind, all of them were unintelligible. 

It sounded like they were coming from everywhere.

The multiple objects in your bag had started to make your spine ache so, at the same time as yet another shot, you leaned forward. Quick enough so that the sound of items unsquashing themselves would ring at the same time as the bullet. 

You reached back, making sure that your bag wasn’t going to hit any surface, and then took it off of yourself one arm at a time. 

Soon the bag was placed in front of you, your fingers immediately unzipping it, before you began to search through. You wanted some kind of weapon, or if not that then at least some form of protection... But you had just gone shopping. 

I doubt a banana would be useful in a gun fight. 

You moved onto the pockets on either side of the bag when the main compartment made too much noise. It wasn’t like it was going to do any justice anyway because it was all just a bunch of food, a carton of juice and other little things for your trailer. 

This wasn’t a planned situation. 

When you woke up this morning and picked up your bag to go grocery shopping, you weren’t exactly imagining that you would need to bring something to fight with.

A huff of air passed through your lips while your fingers began searching through the left pocket. You felt around, following the lining of stitches for at least something, but the most found was a wrapper from some sweet or chewing gum. 

So, it was on to the next. 

This time to do the same routine was a bit more difficult as this pocket was where you kept your water bottle. You were trying to be more careful when you started to comb through the compartment, even if you had to move a bit faster to properly squeeze around the lack of space. 

And then, finally, you felt something.

In that moment it was hard to tell what it was. It felt long enough to at least administer some form of damage, or maybe only be needed to threaten someone from a distance, so your stressed mind just chose it. You began pulling your hand out. 

But, despite what you wanted, it wasn’t going to be that easy. 

Right as the item had been tugged vertically, making it easier to pull it out, the movement had caused the bone of your wrist to hit into the bottle.

Ordinarily, it was something that you wouldn’t think twice about. You were just trying to get an item out of a pocket, surely you could do that without something bad happening... 

Half of whatever you were trying to grab had been stuck under the bottle in a way that already had it tilting. And then the impact landed. Your wrist hit near the top of the bottle and that was all it needed. 

It started to tip out of the pocket. 

A sharp breath sucked into your lungs at the feeling, but with no ability to catch it in time, the metal cylinder simply fell to the floor from a very unfortunate height for you. 

And that apparently wasn’t all. 

In fact, even after the sound echoed in a way that most definitely had already blown your cover, the world seemed to have other plans for you as after yet another bounce and a few more smaller ones, it was starting to roll. 

You leaned to the side as fast as you could, reaching your arm out to its full extent with your hand wide open. But it was like trying to catch a fly, and soon, it just rolled right passed your fingers, moving even faster the more the water sloshed inside of it. 

The only thing you could do was watch in utter horror as the bottle travelled right passed the edge of a wall for the whole world to see. 

Eventually, about halfway through the path, it ran into a rock or a crack in the ground. The bottle bounced about one more time before it finally stalled. Though, at this point I don’t think it really mattered. The damage was still done. 

The shots had placated a bit, the only ones being fired sounding far away, as the confusion dispersed the men on the other side of the wall. Murmurs were passing back and forth.

“What was that?

“Did you hear that?

“Where did that come from?” 

Your eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting into the skin of your bottom lip as your body just purely froze no matter how much your brain was telling you to make a run for it. 

“Okay, okay, all of you keep moving! Spread out more while I check it out. We’re not alone out here!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Okay, sir!”

However many people were on the other side of the wall scattered within the next beat of your heart. More shots and shouts began to ring out with the same loudness, now joined by the heavy smacking of boots as they moved further away...

But a pair of footsteps still remained. 

Now, your heart was purely thumping in your ears. It was by far the most prominent thing you could hear in that moment, though the sound of those harsh shoes kicking up stones without care was an active competitor. 

Especially when they started getting louder. 

Your eyes flicked to the open backpack in front of you, an ache beginning to pulse through your forehead while you stared at the contents. There was this sort of desperation, and almost disappointment, that built in your system at the thought of losing the freshly bought items. 

Though, what was the point in trying to save the food if you wouldn’t be alive to eat it. 

Within the next second, and after a very deep breath, you propped your hands firmly against the path beneath on either side of your body. You pushed your strength into your unstretched leg until it was folded under you. 

By now you looked like some kind of runner getting ready to do race, and honestly it was pretty much how you felt. The thought was the only thing suppress the panic active in your chest, so you indulged.

There was this internal count down as you moved your other leg to stretch behind you, even if there wasn’t that much space to do so. 

And then the timer went off. 

You were about to push yourself onto your feet. About to ready to get up, adopt a sort of hunched over posture so that no part of your body could peak over the wall, and run like hell.

But again. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

The movement was caught from the corner of your eye. 

You had barely even started carrying out your wanted movements when a man suddenly appeared round the corner of the wall, slow and intense. 

He was pretty decked out from what your panicked mind could comprehend. There were a multitude of weapons that clung to his belt, and he was in fact holding this massive gun. 

Initially, his focus was on your bottle. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at the object of confusion, as it didn’t really look like the standard water bottle from afar, with his finger hovering over the trigger. Ready to fire at any moment. 

At this point you had resumed this sort of weird crouched position, stuck between wanting to stand up and finally run away or stay frozen to the ground as if you could just meld into it. 

Either way, it was a kind of stance that didn’t provide a sense of balance. And soon, despite how much the dread utterly pooled at the bottom of your stomach like it did on a rollercoaster, you fell. Right on your ass.

The gun, that you had pretty much only seen in movies or on the news, was pointed right in your direction before you could even blink once. 

You attempted to crawl backwards, winding round your backpack, eyes wide and fully open as they trained on the man who in turn had started to follow your movements. And then you stopped, knowing full and well what was coming even if you got to your feet. 

Your breathing was erratic, arms moving stiff and slow as you raised them above your head with your palms open, facing the man who made no implications that he was going to put that gun down. “Listen,” You gulped, “I didn’t see anything, I swear-- Look, there. My bag is there-- Take it. Take anything.” 

“Anything you want.” 

It was no use. No matter what way the words tumbled from your mouth, that finger never tried to move away from that trigger. 

You closed your eyes, feeling the way your body heaved with every breath, the way your hands shook. Your ears listened out for the wind, the wildlife that had most definitely moved on from here already, or just something that wasn’t from guns. 

And then a shot rung out. 

It was an indistinctive reaction when your body jolted at the sound as it echoed through the large area, pinging within the windows of the abandoned buildings. You had almost fallen, your arms springing down even if you thought there was no time to protect...

You could still move?

Your eyes snapped open, the ability to take in full breaths yet to come, and you looked down at yourself. You tried to scan across what you could see on your body, that was somehow still alive, and leant on a hand to further support yourself. 

However, just as your brain attempted to register a lack of a gunshot wound, the sound of something hitting the ground stopped your investigation. 

Your head sort of bobbed for a moment, the want to continue your search fierce in your veins, but then you finally looked away. Your gaze rose.

The man before you had tumbled to his knees. 

His hands moved around for a few seconds, desperately trying to grab apart of his chest as if in disbelief of what just happened. And then another shot fired again. 

Like before, your body had jolted in response, still having no idea which gun it was coming from. 

However, when a particular part of you scrunched, the shock in your system decided to completely drain. Your pain receptors activated in a way that you weren’t ready for. 

It was hard to pin point exactly where the feeling had originated as it spread like a wildfire, but it was intense enough that the arm you were leant against almost buckled. 

Sharp burning. A sensation that made it feel like you had been bitten by hundreds of thousands of fire hands over and over again. 

Or, when you finally managed to get yourself to look down again, it was because you in fact had gotten shot. “Oh...”

He got you.

“Oh, shit.”

There was this hurried voice that bounced through the walls. Your head attempted to snap up like it had previously done, but this time it was just unsteady. Almost like it was moving in points.  

By the next blink, that practically didn’t even feel like one, another man had made his way round the corner. He also had a gun raised... but, it seemed different.

His general stance, the way he carried the weapon, the expression on his face even if you could only see half of it. It was clear that he had a lot more experience than the last guy. 

They weren’t from the same group. 

The man lowered himself onto one knee beside the body, head still raised cautiously to make sure to keep full awareness of his surroundings while he searched over any pockets he could see. 

And then he stilled. 

You didn’t have to move, or even make a sound, for this guy to spot you.

Within about a millisecond the man had the gun back in both of his hands in a way that had you immediately raising your own despite the pins and needles that ached at all of your muscles.

The world around you was starting to spin, making it more difficult to pay attention to the mans movements. “Don’t... Don’t kill.” Your lips were heavy, the ability to even part them becoming some kind of workout. 

And then, like someone just flicked a switch, it was like all the strength and power in your body decided to dissipate. 

For the second time now, you fell. Though, in this instance, it was your back that collided with ground in a way that had your head smacking into the concrete path afterwards. 

Your skin felt hot all over your body, but it also felt cold at the same time. 

You were trying to move, wanting nothing more than to get back up, go home, curl up in bed and forget this ever happened. But the ability to budge any limb had faded from your brain until you couldn’t even feel if your arms were lifted in the air or not.

So, you just laid there, eyes staring blankly up in the sky while your eyelids acted like they had forgotten their main function. “Hey!”

Right before you gave into that nagging want to sleep, something blocked whatever view you had left, “Kid? Hey, kid, are you... Oh, no-- Kid, can you hear me?” You could feel hands on your arms, and soon, one had pressed onto the wound in a way that had a sound gurgling out of your mouth. 

“Kid!”

~~~

It took your brain a significant amount of time to realise that you had awoken when the time eventually came. 

The sensations within your body were either mild or piercingly intense. There was no in between. 

Every muscle in your face was rigid, aching in a way that made the want to move diminish within seconds. You were trying to blink, your eyelids remaining heavy and ignorant no matter how many attempts were made. 

It hurt to breathe. Any movement within your torso would stretch the skin closest to your armpit and immediately sent a crackle of fire spreading through it like a shock of electricity. 

Your muscles flinched, almost spasming, as you slowly reached back, trying to grip onto some part of whatever lay beneath you so that you could push yourself up.

There was no attention aimed at any sound that spilt through your lips and it was only when a harsh pain erupted, engulfing your shoulder, that you had realised how loudly a sort of strained yelp had burst from your throat. 

You fell back onto the pillow, the agony in your body burning so hot that it had you light headed.

If it wasn’t for your current state the sudden echo of quick footsteps would’ve registered a lot faster through your ears, and in your mind. 

There was words passing across the air, some may have been aimed at you for a response, but this was the first time you had fully managed to open your eyes since you had actually woken up.

Your head slowly turned as voices continued to echo, muffled no matter how many times it rung in your ears, until your right cheek met with the pillowcase. Your eyes cast through a metal wall, more so the frame of one, which looked as if it previously had some sort of murky glass within.

The place was massive. 

This dim lightly spread throughout most sections as the source above couldn’t reflect on any surface due to the fact that everything around was either a form of black or a gloomy grey. The lights themselves were also the kind of ones that aimed straight down, meaning that it would only cover what was directly beneath. 

“Hey.”

In the centre of the main area was this sort of ring. There was a walkway that cut through the middle so that people could get from one side to the other, and on either side were desks that followed the rim, a plethora of monitors and electronic devices cluttering the surface. 

Some you hadn’t even seen before.

“Hey, uh, kid?”

Your head snapped back into its previous position in a speed that felt like it shook your brain. You squeezes your eyes shut for a good minute before they opened again. 

And after blinking a few times, your vision came back into focus. 

There was this dude stood to your side. He was tall, slim in width with curled mid length hair and a beard that wasn’t connected to the moustache covering his lip.

“Oh, yeah-- Must be pretty disorienting to wake up in a place like this.” The way he sounded matched almost exactly like you had guessed. It was nice. Not harsh and not too soft. 

He held your gaze in such a way that made it seem as if he could see right through you, even taking a slight step back when he noticed how wide and cautious your eyes were set on him, “It might take some time for you to believe us, but I assure you that we don’t want to harm you. You’re all good... Well, I mean, apart-- apart from your injuries.”

“Generally, you’re good-- Or like... Yeah.” 

Your hand lifted from where it had previously flopped and you reached it to your left shoulder, slow and steady. 

Your fingers travelled lower, gliding across the exposed skin before it reached the edge of tank top arm slot. Your movements halted in the space between the end of your shoulder bone and the beginning of your chest. 

Finally, you realised where the source of pain was coming from.

Somehow, the shot taken at you had landed right above your first rib. And from the uncomfortable feeling, constantly there, from what you were guessing was another bandage on your back. It had gone all the way through. 

The dude that had been previously talking cleared his throat after a moment. He was sort of shifting the weight back and forth from one foot to another, unsure of what to do or say which then ended up with him looking away. 

Your attention landed back on him, your arm happily moving back to lay by your side. Though, your eyebrows then furrowed, realising that the guys eyes had settled on something, and it even looked like he was asking a question.

So, after allowing yourself to give into your curiosity, you followed the direction he was looking in. 

You almost jumped out of your skin.

There, leaning against the thing you could barely call a wall, to your right was a guy stood perfectly still with his arms tight across his chest. 

It was that man from earlier. The one that found you. Saved you?

His eyes were already on your own which left the questioning gaze from the other dude unanswered. At first the muscles in his face were visibly tense, crinkled eyebrows, slightly narrowed gaze, jaw clenched tightly. 

And then you looked at him. 

In an instant it was like everything taking over his features eased. He raised his head a single time before it lowered back to where it was usually held. A greeting. 

“I’ll bet your hungry, huh?”

Your attention snapped back to the other dude once again to find that there was this gentle smile pressing into his lips once your eyes met his. 

The question circled round your mind for a good few seconds before it fully processed. It had you thinking, a silence falling within the little room while the hum of electricity barely caught your ears. 

In all honesty hunger had been the last thing on your mind. To solve the sudden mystery was even more difficult since you couldn’t even remember the last thing that passed through your body, other than a bullet. 

Though, right before you could even try to figure out the wanted response was to be, it seemed like your stomach decided to do it for you as it suddenly rumbled through the quiet. 

It may have not exactly sounded like some kind of missile, but considering the building was very echoey and your lack of answer had created a pause within the people stood in the room, it was louder than any other sound at that moment. You were horrified.

The man with his arms crossed dared to huff a quiet laugh through his nose and before you could even send him a look, or give any sort of reaction for that matter, the other guy took a step back with this expression on his face.

He was practically beaming as he clasped his hands together, “Good answer.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed once again, gaze now following the man as he moved round of what you now realised was a cot underneath you and out through the doorway a moment later.

You were going to attempt to continue watching him, wanting to know where he was walking despite the context clues, but after trying to look through the empty frames in the wall, the figure of the quiet dude blocked your view.

And for the first times since your initial meeting, if you could even call it that, your eyes properly took him in. 

Regardless of the position of his spine from the leaned pose, his posture was sharp. Straight like he had to practice it many times. He was tall too, though a little shorter than the other guy. 

The hair on his head looked like it was just growing out from being shaved, the sides a lot shorter than the top. It looked like a marine cut. 

Admittedly, he could’ve done his hair that way cause he simply wanted to. But you saw him earlier. 

He knew the ins and outs, every little detail, of the gun he held strong in his arms. You saw his stance, one that could more commonly only be from having to do it 24/7. 

And where was the most known place where you had to stand at attention almost every day?

Any item of clothing that covered his body was full black, including the shoes and his belt, which was a drastic contrast to any skin that was exposed. It also meant that you could spot any cut or bruise he had very easily. 

There was a good few on his face. Some had become scabs already, looking like they had been there for some time, while others almost looked fresh. The most noticeable appeared like it followed his cheekbone. 

Your eyes immediately snapped away upon realised that you had been looking at him for so long that he had in fact noticed it. I mean, there wasn’t really anything else to occupy his mind. 

You tried to shift your body against the cot, a mixture of wanting to distract yourself and a test to see how much you could move without it hurting. 

But either way, it was hard to do anything without being able to properly use a side of your body.

So, ultimately, you were stuck. Trapped under a blanket which forced you to lay flat on your back, against something that you wished had the same feeling as your bed, while sounds started to echo from what you were guessing was the kitchen. 

“Hey, kid.”

The voice that hit your ears was a lot gruffer than expected, gravelly enough that it almost sounded like it was hurting his throat. The way the words passed through his lips were clear, but also hushed as if he was trying not to be loud for an unknown benefit. “What were you doing out there, hmm?” 

With his stance, you half expected that whatever he wanted to say was going to come out harsh. That he was going to yell and tell you off for something. But he didn’t. He was... actually concerned?

“It’s a decent walk from the store you went to.” he then added on, and now that seemed to get your attention. 

Your head rolled to the side, narrowed gaze finding him with a newfound cautiousness. 

The man in turn must’ve realised the suspicion his wording caused, so he simply gestured to the side with his head, “I got your bag.”

Sure enough, as you moved your lower against the pillow, it was in fact there. The first familiar thing you had seen all day was sat on the ground beside the guy. It may have had some slight rips, some of the material had even been scuffed enough that it was visible. 

But it was there. Zipped up and everything.

Your favourite backpack.

Despite your distance, the bag looked plump with some of the contents clearly poking against the sides of it. All of the items were still in it. Hell, even the water bottle was back in the same side pocket you always put it in.

“We couldn’t find your name in the system,” the man spoke again, and honestly you had forgotten that he was there regardless of the fact that he stood next to where you eyes were aimed. “Did your parents know where you were?”

You looked at him within seconds of the question catching your ears and that dread from earlier began to pool at the bottom of your stomach all over again. 

I mean, you should’ve expected the question at some point.

It was common for you to forget that other people could look at you and see a child, ask the whole ‘where are you parents’ when you had to buy stuff that apparently didn’t seem normal for a child to get, even if it was just household items. 

You will never forget the time you tried to buy scissors. 

But the question still stung. It would make all of the memories of countless things flood right back until it was fresh in your mind, creating a wave of nostalgia that you hated at this point. 

Your head slowly rolled back to its previous position, your gaze now cast up at the rotting, grey ceiling while a deep breath seeped through your nose. Your body practically deflated when it went back out. 

Like before, you didn’t need to say anything for the guy to understand the situation.

Obviously, from your position, you couldn’t clearly see him as anything more than a blurred blob from the corner of your eye, but he had sort of loosened his crossed arms. Was the look of loss that clear on you?

How could he even notice it that quick?

Your body almost jolted when he cleared his throat and pain shot through your shoulder that had you biting back a grunt.

“Listen, we’re not-- We’re not going to hurt you... all right?” His tone was different this time. Lighter in a way that reduced the grumble of his voice, even if it didn’t sound unpleasant. “You’ve been here for a few days so that the, uh, big guy could fix up your shoulder.”

“That’s all.”

From the feeling of his gaze aimed in your direction, you could tell that he was doing what you had done, except he was more so trying to analyse your movement no matter how miniscule. 

It made you nervous enough that your mind was trying to zone in on the sounds coming from the kitchen, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket. But that just meant that a silence had started to layer. 

“Can you speak?”

Your body stiffened within a matter of seconds. 

At this point there was no reason for you to remain quiet. It was unclear as to why it had even been done in the first place. Was it to conceal your voice? Hide your identity? 

Even then, they had already ready seen your face and might possibly have looked through your backpack. The things they’ve could’ve known about you were unknown.

Maybe it was that thing you were told as a kid that kept you holding your tongue. You know, the whole stranger danger thing? Do not interact with people that you don’t know unless absolutely necessary. 

People seemed to get stuck on specific moments in the past regardless of it directly links to a moment of stress, or trauma, if you remembered correctly what that article said. Maybe that was your thing?

Your contemplative eyes flickered over the ceiling above for another moment before they finally made the decision to move, and so did your head. Once again, it rolled to the side until your right cheek touched the pillow.

You met his eyes. His gaze anything but harsh no matter how long a silence remained.

This guys wasn’t strange. 

I mean, the concept of waking up in some massive building that you didn’t recognise with two other dudes that you had never met before was in fact a little, sure.

But there was no reason given beyond that as to why you should fear either of them. Be scared of them. 

After all the dude talking to you had in fact saved your life.

You sniffed, that same feeling of nervousness making a comeback the longer the eye contact was held. It had you needing to look away for a few seconds before your eyes went right back. You stiffly nodded your head. 

The man straightened his back against the metal, his spine probably tired of the frame digging into it. His gaze sort of narrowed for a moment. Maybe a few questions sprung into his mind? Maybe he was judging you, or needed to sneeze? Who knows.

“You just won’t.” He nodded his head once, the look in his eyes switching to something unreadable as he got the message despite the lack of words, “That’s... No. No, I get it.”

“Well, I’m Frank. Uh,” he began, dragging out the last sound for a little bit as he tried to locate something through the wall behind you, “Dude in the kitchens name is David. I usually call him Lieberman, that’s... It’s his last name-- He’s the big guy I was talking about. Dude who fixed up your arm.”

“I tried to help too, but, uh... Not exactly my field of expertise.” 

You were about to figure out some kind of gesture to make in response so that you wouldn’t leave him hanging again. And had even started to move your arm. 

But then that name cycled through your head once more. 

Frank... Castle. 

Frank Castle.

It seemed that the cogs had made their final turn once again. His face found their link to certain memories in your mind.

Holy shit. 

He was the guy on the news a while back. The dude had been deemed a vigilante as he had been running around and killing bad people-- Well, it was practically only you and a few other people that thought they were the bad guys.

Either way, after that trial thing, the man that was currently stood to the side of you had supposedly died. Killed in an explosion on some kind of boat, if you remembered correctly.

I mean, it could be that you were the one who died and this was just what came after. And honestly if you were still as delirious as you were before it might have been believable, but that pulsing burning in your shoulder said otherwise. 

So, it was true. He really was here in the flesh, and all in one piece. 

Frank Castle was alive. 

Your expression, and maybe how intensely you had been staring at him, must’ve given away your thought pattern as he sort of tilted his head when he noticed the shift in your eyes, “You know me?” This time your gaze remained unfleeting in the line of attention. 

Frank didn’t seem at all worried about the realisation of his identity. In fact the only change in his expression was done to display his curiosity to the new information. 

Sure, worst comes to worst, he has the upper hand at this moment and it would probably be the same at any other. He could do whatever he needs to do to make sure that you wouldn’t blab before you blinked even once. 

But from his worn out state, and the way he interacted with you, it was visible that he wasn’t going to do that. He must’ve been fighting for quite some time before he had stumbled upon you. 

Why the hell was he even there? Out in the open in a place like that?

Who were those other guys?

Regardless of the want to let your mind flow down that rabbit hole, you were fronted with your previous realisation as your eyes actually focused on Frank again.

You were right. Frank  Castle wasn’t the bad guy.

Without paying attention to it, there seemed to be this smile that began to curl at the corners of your mouth. You moved your head began to move back to its your previous position, your eyes wanting to find the discoloured ceiling to zone out on in a way that further made you forget about your pain--

Shoes suddenly scuffed against the hard ground in a way that stilled all over your movements. Your gaze flickered to whatever had joined you in the room as apparently you had missed the approaching footstep.

It was David, the height difference between the two guys now a lot clearer as he had stopped beside the man whose arms were yet to uncross. “Can you hold this for a second?” Until now. 

Frank sort of looked at the man for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again before he complied to the request. And the moment the plate had been taken into his hands, David moved as if on autopilot. “All right,”

He wound round the foot of your cot, taking back the same position he stood in when you woke up, “Gonna need to sit up so you can actually digest this shit.”

He felt a little bad when he saw the look on your face, though he remained still while you prepared yourself, starting to fidget with his hands. He didn’t want to touch you without permission, but it appeared that your eyes were already closed.

You slowly but surely moved the arm of your injured shoulder to sling across your torso, hoping the position would stop it from moving about too much. And then you braced yourself, awaiting whatever sensations were about to come. 

By the time a hand had been placed on your body, your teeth were already gritted. One was placed on your back, a way to properly bring guide you into the needed position, while the other gently cupped the back of your head so that everything would move in unison. 

“Deep breath.”

The pain was immediate. It was such a thing that purely seared up a side of your body. Engulfed everything in its path.

It was impossible to see from your closed eyes, but there was a reaction from the man stood to the side when a slight whine escaped your throat. He had stepped forward, looking as if he was about to reach out if he didn’t have something in one of his hands. 

It was thoughtless. A movement that he had undone the moment he had realised by pressing back against the wall. But it happened nonetheless. 

David was muttering stuff of assurance, many forms of sentences letting lose into the air. You couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t catch onto a singular word. 

All you could think about was the pain. How stupid it was that you made the decision to take that route. How you didn’t run back the way you came after that first shot. Or how you didn’t even end up trying run until it was too late. 

Your legs bent at the knees the more your torso raised, as if trying to protect it of something, which slightly kicked up your blanket and made the heels of your feet dig into the cot below. “There you go, there you go!”

It was like a ripping of a band aid. 

At first, it was the stage of holding onto the edge, trying to hype yourself to get it over and done with. And then it was off. It may give a twinge of pain that lingered more than wanted, but overall the act had been complete.

“Right on, that’s you done.”

And so had yours. 

The biggest breath of relief huffed out of your mouth in a way that had David wanting to lightly pat your back, but it could accidently hurt you. So, instead, he resorted to turning his attention Frank, hurriedly gesturing towards the thing he held.

The man in question seemed to shake his head as if trying stifle his amusement, though he took a step forward to hand over the plate either way.

And then, by the next time you had blinked, it was held out in your direction. You just looked at it for a moment. 

It was a sandwich. One that may have been made with the most simple ingredients, and was probably the exact replica of what you would picture in your head upon hearing the name, but for some reason your whole body yearned for it. 

The plate was in your hands within seconds.

David took a step back, a slight smile reappearing on his lips at the progress. He gestured to the plate you held in the same position and then towards your mouth, seeming like he couldn’t get himself to stand still, “Eat up.”

You were. 

Oh, a thousand percent, you were getting ready to chow down on something, since the last time solid food had been eaten was probably the day you had gotten shot. And even then, you had no clue as to when that was.

However, right as you were about to bring the plate onto your lap, grab onto the sandwich and consume it with the upmost excitement... You paused. Stopped right in your tracks. Eating by yourself felt a little weird.

You looked back at David. 

It took him a moment to realise that your eyes were on him again. But when he did, he sort of rocked on his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he sent a look towards Frank, “What, um... Is it-- Is it bad, or something?”

There was a mixture of confusion and almost offence tugging at certain features and it had your head shaking immediately.

Within the next minute, it was almost like a game of charades as you attempted to relay the words in your mind. 

The plate remained in the hand it did before. You bent your left arm at the elbow, trying to avoid any movement that would attack the area surrounding your wound, and you gestured. 

The first time you pointed your index finger at him and then at the plate, but he merely blinked. So, you then did it in reverse, directing the line of attention to the plate and then him. 

Frank even seemed confused as he watched with narrowed eyes, apparently unable to deduced the situation himself which still left David with nothing. “Kid, I don’t... I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, are you-- are you allergic to something?” 

“Are you asking me what’s in it? If I made it, what--”

Biting back the biggest sigh of your life, and in the fastest way that you could in that moment, you restored to just holding out the whole plate towards him. Even repeated the previous gesture one final time to make your point. 

“Oh,” David dragged out the sound as he began to nod. Finally, he understood, “Yeah, man, I’m boutta make my own.”

He remained for only a moment more, watching as your plate slowly lowered to your lap so that it wouldn’t drop. And then he started walking again, moving back around the edge of the cot before making his way through the doorway.

Franks eyes were already on your own by the time your head turned in his direction, as if he expected it to happen. 

This time without accompanying the movement with gestures, you simply held out the plated food towards him. Franks head shook instantly, he even waved a hand, “It’s for you, kid. Need to get that strength back.” 

His eyes directed towards the kitchen almost immediately after. He was either counting on David possibly making him one or waiting for him to leave the kitchen so that he could do it himself.

Thing is though, he only gave you a reason as to why you should keep the sandwich held for yourself.

He didn’t say no. 

The plate was brought back to your legs, flat against your thighs, and then you began looking around. Your eyes scanned across any close surface for something that could be used as a cloth, something to wipe your hands with, but there was no luck. 

You resorted to just scrubbing your palms, and more importantly your finger tips, against the cleanest clothing you had under the blanket. And then you grabbed the sandwich. 

Despite what Frank thought was going to happen by the time his attention was once again redirected towards you, when the sandwich was held horizontally in your grasp, instead of bring it to your mouth and taking a bite. You began... pulling at it each side? 

It started to rip.

“What are you doing?” he questioned pretty much immediately, his face and voice both riddle with confusion. And maybe even a little disturbance. But that didn’t stop your movements at all. 

In fact the only time you had stopped was when the entire thing had been torn through the middle, completely halved. However, even after that, you reached for one of the parts. You took it from the plate, stuffing it into the hand of your unmoving arm.

And then you held out the plate all over again to the man with very furrowed eyebrows. 

He just looked at the poorly halved sandwich for a moment, a part of it being more of the contents that the bread, and then his eyes found yours. There was an unreadable expression within them.

When he still didn’t take it, and due to the fact that your arm was starting to get tired, you redid your act of holding it out towards him. 

And this time he couldn’t withhold a response. 

Frank scoffed, shaking his head in the same amusement from earlier while he stared at the plate calling his name, “You’re very persistent, aren’t ya.” 

Despite his point still standing, the consistent want for you to get the nutrients needed to fully recover, it was like he couldn’t say no to you. At least to your face. So. Frank took the plate.

The next few minutes were spent by the two of you choosing the perfect side of the sandwich and then going to town, chowing down on it like it was the first one either of you had ever had. 

And man, that David could sure make a meal, even if it was just slapping ingredients between slices of bread.

“Damn!”

Seemed like someone else agreed with you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing all this time, huh, Lieberman? Cookin’” Franks words were incredibly muffled despite his constant chewing, but either way the sound still echoed. A laugh soon followed while something poured, “What else would I do, man? Wasn’t just gonna do nothing.”

“Well, you can add cooking to your... I don’t know, list of talents or something.” Every time that man spoke, his head lowered right back down so that he could see the plate, taking another massive bite that you were just waiting for him to start choke on.

“Why did you... Why did you say it like that?” David's voice was more monotonous than usual, either playing fake offence or he was too preoccupied with arranging the order of his sandwich ingredients. 

You took another bite, a piece of lettuce almost falling onto the blanket without you knowing. Frank turned towards the kitchen again, speaking midway through putting a part of the sandwich in his mouth, “Like what?” A plethora of crumbs fell onto the plate in a way that made your nose crinkle.

“Like... Are you lying to me? Lying isn’t very nice, Frank.” 

“Nah, come on, man, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t say that If I didn’t mean it, you know that-- You could put these in a-- a--  a sandwich shop--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay,” David practically grumbled at this point, placing down what sounded like a butter knife on the counter before he sniffed, “That at least mean that our little friend likes it too?”

Frank turned to you, placing the little chunk of sandwich he had left onto his plate before he rubbed the fingers that touched it together. 

You swallowed down your bites, the act proving to be a little harder to from the lack of eating solid food, and noted the fact that he was awaiting some form of answer to relay to David. 

Your sandwich was finished by now. It wasn’t a contest but it was almost wild how fast it had been consumed. And now you sat there, wiping your hand against your trousers while attempting to get any food stuck between your teeth. 

And then you cleared your throat, your nose scrunching for a second when the action ended up shaking your chest a little too much, “Y/n.”

Frank had turned his towards the kitchen moments prior. He had parted his lips, even slightly leaned back against the wall to get a proper view of the man awaiting an answer through the empty frames. 

Now his head snapped in your direction, eyebrows raising more than you had even seen, “What was that?”

You may have made the ultimate decision to use your voice in the first place, however, having that gaze of his on you once again caused this overwhelming feeling to surge through your body. 

Your spine had straightened, this time managing to ignore the shock of pain that hit your system, while your eyes widened just a smidge.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

The echo of David's voice had caused you to turn to where he stood in the kitchen, still busied with making another one of his masterpieces. It was something done half out of anxiousness and just wanting to distract yourself.

And then it made you think.

Surrounding you was this big, more empty than full, abandoned building. The only other people there was Frank, a man who was supposed to be dead, and David... who you presumed was also most likely to be the same due to their team up. 

If they were going to kill you, or hurt you, they would have done so already. 

But even then, when you woke up this morning you hadn’t been restrained or anything. There was nothing keeping you there other than the fact that they wanted to treat your wounds. 

A deep breath filtered through your nose as your eyes slowly met with Franks again. 

His expression was practically the same as it was before you had looked away, giving you a patience no one ever had. The gaze he held was warm. Encouraging. 

Thus, you swallowed once again.

“My... name.” Your voice was hoarse from waking up not that long ago, but also from it’s lack of use. There was always this feeling in your throat as if something was stuck in it, and you coughed, the urge to squeeze your eyes shut presenting itself yet again when it shifted your shoulder.

But you composed yourself, sucking in another breath and rubbing your hands against your legs while David was still left with no answer, “It’s Y/n.”

Franks head had already been nodding before you had finished saying your set of words. He pursed his lips, finally swallowing down the bite he had previously taken.

Frank sniffed, turning his head towards the kitchen yet again. Though this time it seemed like he did so to conceal the change of his facial expression more than to get David's attention. “You hear that, Lieberman?”

Regardless of his attempts to hide his reaction, the smile was clear on his lips. Such a one that it had even reached the skin around his eyes as they started to crinkle.

He looked back at you. There was this emotion on his face that remained unchanging. It seemed like a fondness, but at the same time he almost looked... proud?

“Y/n likes it.”

#frank castle #the punisher #teen!reader #mcu #mcu x teen!reader #marvel x teen!reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #david lieberman #micro

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Your sick little head, so brain damaged and lying in that hospital bed.

This art means a lot to me. It isn’t as rendered or polished as my other work, but I want it to look scrappy, messy, and still pretty. If you’d like to just read about the style and story of the art unrelated to myself, feel free to skip this section.

Last week I mentioned being in the hospital and the psych ward, and while I wont give extreme details, it was for an overdose. Recently after getting out I’ve been trying to act like nothing happened and it’s all going to go back to normal, but this is the 3rd time I’ve done it or been on the edge of it. Just last week I had to get rid of two of my cats just after I’d been discharged and that on top of the trauma of the whole situation I’ve just felt strangely empty. Overdoses don’t just come and go like that. The mental effects aside from whatever you took linger and hurt more than anything. “I’m doing better” really just means I’m not about to do it again, but those feelings are still stored somewhere deep inside me. For this specific piece I wanted to describe that feeling and wonder of “How would anyone feel if they found me? What will they do after?”

People don’t talk about Molly nearly as much as I think they should, but it’s understandable given that she has no set substance yet. For that reason I have made my own. The biggest thing I’ve mentioned before—in my Angel Dust headcanon post—is that I believe Molly is the one that found Anthony after he overdosed and called 911. The rest of his family was likely a bit worried, but I don’t think any of them cared as much as she did. Another headcanon of mine is that Anthony and Molly had matching rings with “AN” & “MO” engraved onto them. Molly sold her ring to pay for Anthonys funeral after his passing in the hospital and now wears Anthonys as replacement on her index finger which she eventually takes to heaven with her.

I don’t imagine she was able to visit him very often while he was in a coma but she still did when she could and would talk to him in hopes he could hear her a little bit before he left. It’d take a bit of a tangent but when sinners enter hell, in my mind entering hell takes as long as it did to die. So for Anthony it likely took him a week to a month to die during his coma from complications, and in turn, it took that same amount of time for him to full wake up in hell. Sinners to me are made and formed out of the ground in hell and wake up in a similar location to where they died. Angel Dust would’ve woken up alone in a hospital while his sister was now left alone and Anthony’s body likely already buried by then.

These are reasons why I included forget-me-nots and sweet peas as taped on decals. Their meanings being “Please don’t forget me” and “Goodbye, thank you for a wonderful time.” respectively. I also added the “M” wax seal over one of the sweet peas because I feel that it’s a sentiment that Molly held close to her heart and still does.

Molly’s body is torn from pink paper while Angel’s is blue paper. I intended for these to somewhat be seen as hands, like how the pink paper wraps over the forget-me-not when the blue paper lays beneath it to show Molly’s attempt to hold onto the memory of her brother while Angel is trying to remember his own life yet is unaware of what is happening to his sister now; unaware if she’s alive or not due to his poor keeping of time. Angel is also a scrap of paper glued above Molly’s hands to pretty genuinely symbolise they’re both in different dimensions now and can’t fully be apart of the same without the help of an external force. I also wanted to include more jumping spider elements so I’d like to think the string holding the tears is silk. Jumping spiders leave silk behind incase they fall so they can climb back up and when you put that in the form of a mentality I think Molly would fit into that very well.

I really hope we see more of Molly and I hope she had a good life and can see her brother again. Of course, she is a fictional character, but I can’t imagine the trauma she’s experienced in her life even without my personal headcanons. I love Molly a lot and just from how I personally interpret her she reminds me a lot of my mother.

Hopefully you can enjoy my ramblings and craze about these funny little spiders. 🩷

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin angel #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin #angel hazbin hotel #angel dust #molly dust #molly hazbin hotel #hazbin molly #molly hazbin #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #anti vivziepop #anti hazbin #tw overdose #cw overdose #tw vent #tw sui implied #tw sui talk #tw sui attempt #tw suicide #cw sui attempt #my art #tw psych ward #cw psych ward

[feather314]

How did Markus get the suit?

Ok so I was trying really hard to fall asleep last night so that maybe just maybe I could get more than 5 hours of sleep and so I was thinking, naturally, as one does, about Markus, specifically the Stratford Tower heist thing. He looked really good in that suit. But how did he get it?? Suits are expensive and I know he didn't sit on a street corner asking for spare change until he could afford it.

Maybe he stole it? Very plausible, but to me that seems like a lot of effort and risk just for the costume that he'll ditch above a ceiling tile after like 10 minutes anyway.

Found it lying around or 'borrowed' it from someone's locker/closet? Same thing with the stealing, breaking in somewhere to steal a suit just doesn't seem like a smart risk to take. And where would you find a fancy shmancy suit (that is also, might I add, his perfect exact size) just lying around?

Surely he didn't have it already. He might have needed to dress fancy for some event with Carl or something, but we saw him come home from one of those and he was not in a suit. So it wouldn't make sense to me that he would have one just in case.

So that brings me to the conclusion that I came to in my brain-dead midnight daze last night. He purchased it. But not with money he scrounged from the sidewalk. He used Carl's money.

We know he's connected to Carl's bank account and can make transactions without his "owner's" (ew) authorization because of the Bellini paints scene. He just kinda did it. And this was before he made his message to the world (duh, it's in preparation for Stratford Tower), so the general public probably wouldn't recognize him like they might do for, say, Kara, since she was wanted for committing a crime. I don't think that was the case with Markus at this point. (Although I fully accept that I may be incorrect on that particular factoid, or any aspect of this 'theory.')

All this to say, I think the most plausible explanation for how he came to acquire a suit is that he put on a normal android uniform (which I'm sure would be in abundant supply in Jericho), moseyed on into a Men's Wearhouse (he didn't hide his lack of an LED in Stratford Tower whilst posing as an android employee, so we can assume he also wouldn't need to here), operated under the guise that the suit was for his "owner" (again, ew), and got the suit the correct size for himself. He would then complete the transaction with the (assumedly) android cashier (and if this was the case, he could always deviate the cashier if anything went wrong) using money, and probably a lot of it, from Carl's bank account. So he stole it from Carl.

And depending on the timeline, Carl would be either very ill or dead. Both are awful to steal from. But I guess the revolution is more important. Carl has plenty of money anyway.

My apologies if they actually did explain it or hint at it in the game. It was late when I thought of this and I probably forgot some crucial details. But it was fun to think of Markus strolling into a men's store to buy a suit.

#dbh #detroit become human #markus rk200 #dbh markus #rk200 #detroit: bh #fan theory #i guess this counts as a fan theory #this is my first post so forgive my inability to use tags correctly

[marina41trench]

Izumi Mitsuki - Drama Collection RabbitChat

Mitsuki: Inumaru, thanks for the hard work!

Mitsuki: Aaaand?!

Mitsuki: Touma-san!

Thank you for your hard work! 😆🌈

Touma: Thank you for your hard work…?

And…?

Touma: Huh? It’s Mitsuki-san, right?

Mitsuki: Sorry lolol Yeah it’s me!

Mitsuki: When I told him I’ll message you,

Riku also wants to send you a message on

RabbitChat, so he borrowed my smartphone,

and made his entrance 😆

Touma: That shocked me lolol

Your personality changed after “and”

I thought something was happening! 😂

Mitsuki: Sorry I surprised you lol

Mitsuki: ※ It seems like Riku has something to 

say to you, but his hands are occupied right

now because he's eating donuts, so I'll type

for him. There will be a few instances where I

change to Riku's personality ※

Touma:

Touma: Thank you for the notice lol

That way I could be prepared and

not be surprised lolol

Mitsuki: For now I’ll be Mitsuki!

Mitsuki:

Touma:

Mitsuki: So, going to the main topic

Mitsuki: Did you forget your cap in our greenroom?

Touma: Eh

Touma: Ah!!!!!!!!!

Touma: It’s a black cap, right????!!!!

Mitsuki: Yes yes! You went to greet us

before you left, right? I remember

you wearing it 🤔

Touma: Waaaaah I screwed up!

Touma: When I grabbed it I only placed it

there somewhere…

Even though Haru reminded me because I

forget a lot of things recently… 💦

Touma: I’m sorry!

I’ve already taken a taxi ride on the way to

another studio, so maybe I could leave it to a

security guard or staff…

Mitsuki: You don’t have to! We have a wrap-up

party, right? I’ll bring it with me there! 😄

I know you're anxious, but don't say

something lonesome. It's fine 👍✨

Touma: Mitsuki-san~~~~~~~!!!!

Touma: You’re truly a godsend…

Thank you very much!!!

Mitsuki: You’re exaggerating lolol You’re such a cute guy!! 😆

Touma: Ah, did you switch to Riku’s personality?!

Mitsuki: Nope!!

Does Riku call you cute?!?!

Touma: I got it wrong!!

We had a conversation before where he

told me that I had a cute smile then I

said to him, "no, it's you!"

Mitsuki: Ahh… Riku also says those things!

Right now I told Riku we’re talking about him, so

he made a 😳 face while munching a donut.

He’s so happy lol

Touma: I could imagine it lol

Touma: Earlier, Haru got mad at me because I

wore his cap by mistake. Then he got angry

and said I forgot something again…

Touma: Earlier, Haru scolded me and said, “You

forgot something again!” even though he was mad

at me for wearing his cap by mistake not too long ago…

Mitsuki: Sounds like our Yamato-san and Iori’s

relationship 😂

Mitsuki: Oh yeah, during the break time,

didn't he get scold you again when you

bought a frappe?

Touma: Being seen like that is so embarrassing!!!

We decided to take a sip of each other's frappe,

but it seems I accidentally ate the big ramune

I placed

Touma: He said, “I was so looking forward to it!”

and got mad at me! 😭

Mitsuki: I can relate to that!!

Mitsuki: When I recall Yamato-san and

Tamaki's argument, the food grudge

is scary~ ‼😂

Touma: He forgave me when I offered him

mine that had a lot of chocolate lolol

Touma: When I saw you and Yotsuba consumed it

quickly, you two had brain freeze, right? 😨

Mitsuki: Yeah we did lolol

It was so hot we couldn’t stop eating!!

Mitsuki: I could feel the youth ✨

Touma: Brain freeze is youth, right?!

Mitsuki: Going to the convenience store on

the way home from school, buy a lucky ice

cream, and say "who'll get it?!" then eat it

quickly surely is youth 🥺

Touma: Wah, you bought lucky ice cream!

It’s so nostalgic!

Touma: When I got to the set, it felt like

I was a student again~

Mitsuki: Riiight ‼

Mitsuki: I mean, your acting is really great!

I was pulled in by your influence,

and made it easier for me to do it

Touma: That’s

Touma: It’s a role where he didn't want to

lose doing it seriously, and looks uncool

when doing things seriously…

Touma: There was a time I did it but it bothered

everyone, so when I acted it, I approached the

uncool part of me objectively.

Mitsuki: I see.

You confronted your acting that way.

Your role, and yourself.

Touma: That’s why I was mesmerized

by your words!

Touma: You said, “"As long as I don't give up

my dream won't end!" ✨

Mitsuki: It sounds so simple, but it

still has an effect on us even now~!!

I was really happy I accepted this role

Mitsuki: Even if you make me say the line,

rather than thinking if there's persuasiveness,

I'll wonder if the feeling is acknowledged

Touma: I know that you put your feelings in

those lyrics. I really respect the way you were

kind to the juniors and how you set the scene!!!

Mitsuki: Ah, wait, I’m going to cry with those words

gimme a moment

Mitsuki: Touma-san, what is your favorite donut

flavor? 😆🫶

Touma: Wooaahh it’s the Riku personality!!!

Touma: I want the simple ones where there's 

no coating or anything special, I guess~! It

feels like competing for the taste, so if one

is delicious then everything is!

Touma: Wait, this sounds like I’m talking

casually with Mitsuki-san…..

Mitsuki: I understand! 💦

I’ll use your provisions as reference! ✨

Touma: Really? Thanks! 😆

And thank you very much!!🙇‍♂️

Mitsuki: Inumaru~! You’re really cute!!

Sorry for suddenly changing the conversation lol

※ I’ve returned to my personality ※

Touma: No no no!

Thank you for the donuts!

The others will be happy too…!

※ Understood ※

Mitsuki: Well, Riku finished eating donuts now

I’ll go to the recording studio soon!

Good luck to your next work!

We’ll meet again at the wrap-up party! 👍

Touma: Yes! Thank you very much!

I’ll look forward to it!!

Touma:

Mitsuki:

#idolish7 #i7 #english translation #rabbichat #rabbitchat #izumi mitsuki #mitsuki izumi #inumaru touma #inumaru toma #toma inumaru

[thevagabondexpress]

1, 12, and 23 for my blorbos (Matthew, Alastair, and Thomas.)

I answered all of them for all of them because you didn't specify that I couldn't :)

1.

Matthew I like because I am also a chronic fashionista. My closet looks like a costume shed and has about that much material in it too. I have so much jewellery I need a replica salmagundi tin to store it out. I may not be addicted to any dangerous substances but I have a serious retail therapy problem and boy does it show.

Matthew and Alastair because we share a trauma: psychopathic fifth graders. I may not relate much to the rest of Alastair's story but I know what it's like to have the kid you called best friend for five years throw gravel at you, it does things to the brain and he'll always have a place in my heart for surviving that with me.

Thomas because this guy has hidden depths. He looks like he's just this kind doofus but he has so many more layers than that and I especially love the angry ones.

12.

Matthew: I don't usually deal with headcanons about canon where [we know what] happened but I do have this one about that—in his grief and also in attempting to grow closer to his father he tries approaching science from a theatre perspective. He befriends a few stage effects people, gets them to help him understand how this chemistry stuff works. And then he accidentally gets himself way too into the backstage side of theatre. Maybe as a Shadowhunter he can't act on stage which would be his preference but nobody said he couldn't take home a project or two for an overwhelmed costume mistress or be an advising consultant on Baroque furniture for the set people or—

Alastair: he started messing with his hair when he was in the Academy already, even before he started dyeing it. Elias wouldn't shell out cash for Alastair to get his hair cut while he was there and he wasn't going around with long hair other people could pull, no sir, plus he wasn't facing down his father's insults about it, so he taught himself to do it. He'd hack away with the shears and the first few times it looked absolutely horrendous but with practice he learned tricks and got better. Between that and the hair dye he's actually secretly a really good hairstylist but nobody will ever know because he won't do it for anyone else. After the events of Chain of Thorns he decides he'll give in and try having someone else cut his hair, he doesn't have to do it anymore so he can lay off and relax now. He hates it. It doesn't look right. The barbers don't know his style the way he does. He goes straight back to doing it himself.

Thomas: he likes knit sweaters/jumpers, which are just barely starting to become a Thing then, and they'll really kick off during the wars. Particularly argyle and cable-knit. They're warm, he looks good in them, and they go on and off a lot easier than waistcoats. The problem is they're not easy to find in his size. He has to order in from some obscure local company in some small town somewhere and spend nearly as much on postage as he does on the sweaters themselves.

23.

23 is hard because I do not under any circumstances have good answers for this nor energy to dig them up because I interact with the art so little. Like, it exists, I'm aware of it, I've seen it, but it's not my preferred way of engaging the media so I kind of like it all equally and don't really have attachments.

[theygender]

Bruh I've known for years that I have visual processing issues (separate from my actual vision problems) but I never really looked into the specifics of how it works before. I know sometimes, especially when my brain is tired, I have trouble making sense of shapes and separating the foreground of images from the background. So I can see the image perfectly fine but I can't make out what it is, even if it's something that should be very obvious like a singer crouching at the edge of a stage (actual example). Those moments are a lot like auditory processing issues, where you can technically hear what someone is saying just fine but your brain can't parse it into words. And when I'm having a lot of trouble with this sort of thing, image descriptions are helpful for me. I figured that was just what visual processing disorder was right?

Well now I'm reading more about it and it turns out that there are 8 different types of visual processing skills and VPD can affect any of them. The issues I just described would fall primarily under visual foreground issues bc it stems mainly from not being able to distinguish the foreground (singer) from the background (stage and audience). But it probably also involves some visual closure issues bc I have trouble figuring out what the full shape is if part of it is cut off (like if the singer is kneeling in such a way that not all of their limbs are fully visible), as well as form constancy issues bc I have trouble recognizing familiar shapes if they're in an unexpected position/context (singer kneeling close to the audience instead of standing on stage)

Reading more about form constancy has got me really mind blown actually. I have a lot of quirks that I always just attributed to autism/ADHD. I can't find objects in plain sight, for one thing, especially if they're in a different location than normal. I can set something down on a table right out in the open and almost immediately lose it if there's other objects nearby for it to "blend into." If I'm looking for something in a cabinet or the fridge or even just on a slightly crowded counter I have to ask my gf to remind me what color it is so I can just pick out the color, bc otherwise I can look forever and not find it. Even if I make a conscious effort to check each individual item, I can look right at it multiple times and still not process that it's the object I'm looking for. I have to make it a habit to always put things back in the exact same spot bc otherwise I can't see them. The other day I went to get a new roll of toilet paper from our toiletry shelf and I thought "damn, we're almost out, I better order some more." I didn't realize until I bought a new box and went to stack it on the shelf that there was already an entire new box right there, just slightly to the left. And this isn't even "tired brain" processing, this is my everyday normal

And apparently... that's all described as symptoms of form constancy issues? Like, some of the things optometrists warn parents to watch out for when determining if their child has VPD are "difficulty finding missing items quickly even if they are in plain sight" and "difficulty recognizing objects when placed in a new location"

Another issue I have is a ridiculous inability to orient myself, know my way around familiar places, or understand where I am in relation to other places. I still have to use GPS to get to shops near my home that I've been going to for years and I have no idea what direction anything is in. My gf and I once had some fun playing a game where we stood in our living room and she asked me to point in the directions of things like "the store across the street" and "the entrance to our apartment complex" and "the mailboxes" and "the dumpster by our building" and I was unable to get any of them correct. Part of it is bc even if I DO manage to memorize my way around somewhere it's just a single-line map telling me when to turn to get from point A to point B and it falls apart if I try to come at it from any other angle, and part of it is due to an inability to judge distances (I have taken the extreme long way around on multiple occasions bc I couldn't tell that "just around the corner of that side of the building" was a shorter distance than going around the opposite side of the building, circling around the back, and then coming in from the other direction)

...Turns out that another aspect of form constancy issues is "difficulty judging distances" and "difficulty picturing objects at different angles." Aaaand during this research I happened to stumble across a site with little baby games to help young kids with visual processing issues practice to improve their form constancy skills and uh. It's kinda kicking my ass 😭

I learned some FUN things about myself tonight lads

#prosopagnosia (faceblindness) also falls in the visual processing issues category apparently which. makes sense i guess? #im just kinda shocked that all these issues might be related tbh #like i had always thought of it as three separate things: faceblindness—spatial reasoning issues—visual processing issues #with the visual processing issues being the least impactful on my life bc it only really affected my ability to discern images #and usually only acted up significantly when my brain was particularly tired #but. apparently vpd is a much wider spectrum of issues than i even realized and it may be Causing the other issues? potentially?? #idek what to do with this information tbh. it changes functionally nothing except that i can put a name to my experiences #ive already naturally worked out accomodations to make my life liveable with these challenges #like using my GPS everywhere and always putting items back in the same spot so i dont have to rely on sight to find them #and luckily i have a partner who is very patient and always willing to help me when i inevitably have trouble anyways lol #but this is definitely. some knowledge i guess #ill probably at least bring this up to my therapist but this may be outside of her wheelhouse 😅 #rambling

[dolorum-magne]

My tgs headcanons! I tried to do 5 each for each main character!

Henry Jekyll

-will absolutely talk your ear off about science if you let him. Mention literally anything about science or alchemy or any of his other interests his face will light up and he'll talk for hours. Robert loves it

-if there isn't already a library in his old house or the society I bet he'd want one. His prized possession aside from his science stuff hes collected over the years (like his glass cabinets full of poisons and such) is probably an old copy of frankenstein from when he was a kid. It's worn, faded, and almost falling apart from being read over and over again for years. He probably doesn't read it much anymore (both from lack of time and probably wanting to keep it in the best condition possible) but keeps it on a shelf somewhere as a little keepsake.

-definitely some kind if ND in my opinion. Maybe I'm projecting a little, but I believe it wholeheartedly

-his favourite seasons are autumn and summer. He liked the leaves and the colours and sitting with a hot drink by the fire when its a bit chilly during the fall, and probably enjoys the warm weather. I think it'd be nice for taking zosi for walks

-Dislikes winter but for a different reason than Lanyon. His immune system is canonically shot due to his issues with insomnia so he'll get absolutely taken out during flu season (learned that from the story sketchbook from SabCots online store!) I just imagine him and Robert holed up in an office or one of their houses in front of the fire absolutely swamped with blankets while Henry's got the sniffles and Robert's just cold lol.

Edward Hyde

-headcanon him as a shameless flirt but his brain would probably short circuit if someone flirted back lol

-loves science just as much as Henry even if he won't admit it.

-(this was commented on my other post and i loved this one so I'm adding it here) Hyde is double jointed and uses it to freak people out.

-collects random things like trinkets and spare change.

-hides thing in weird places for Henry to find later to annoy him

Robert Lanyon

-I think he's a dog person I think about this headcanon a lot actually, and there is a reason behind it! In the bleeding heart (tgs prequel comic) he tells Henry he "has no idea how many dogs they've lost in those woods" when talking about the woods outside his families holiday home in Lausanne. I know hes most likely talking about hunting dogs (probably foxhounds or similar breed since fox+game hunting was a common sport for centuries. Maybe still is idk) , bit either way its easy to assume he may have grown up around them (and as I'm a huge dog person) it was easy for me to assume he's at least fond of dogs, also since Henry has a dog and Robert doesn't seem to mind at all. Either way i think Robert is a dog person and even though I only have a tiny bit of evidence to base it on but it's probably my favourite headcanon.

-I think he has a sweet tooth. No explanation for this one. -favourite colours is purple.

-has an eye for detail in different arts. Fashion, architecture, music, etc. I think he enjoys art

-favourite season is definitely summer

Rachel Pidgley

-cooks people things to show she cares about them. It's why she let's Edward steal cookies when she bakes them, why she made all that food for Jasper.

-she used to be Henry's personal cook at his house before he started the society and she became the day manager. I think that when Henry spends the night on his couch in his office (which is probably very often) she probably leaves breakfast and tea outside his door in the morning because he'd probably forget to eat otherwise.

-enjoys baking more than other types of cooking

-helped Hyde distress the end of his cape to make sure he didn't tear it too badly and fray check the edges

Jasper Kaylock

-probably would let Christopher the mud phoenix sleep in his bed with him during the colder months both because he loves his creatures and because hes his own personal heater. Wouldn't be surprised if this had cost him a few sets of sheets in the past.

-someone commented this on my original post about headcanons and I loved it so I'm adding it to mine but Jasper tilts his head to the side like a dog when he's confused.

-probably would enjoy a good scratch behind the ears lol

-definitely has too many creatures, loves all of them

-collects rocks and trinkets. His pockets are probably always full of random things

#The glass scientists #Tgs #The glass scientists headcanons #Tgs headcanons #Tgs jekyll #Tgs Henry Jekyll #Tgs lanyon #Tgs Robert Lanyon #Tgs hyde #Tgs edward hyde #Tgs jasper #Tgs jasper kaylock #Tgs Rachel #Tgs Rachel Pidgley #Took forever to format these correctly lol

[adapembroke]

Mercury in Taurus: Building a Second Brain

Lately, I’ve been reading the book Building a Second Brain by Tiago Forte. A second brain is made up of all the apps you use to store information so your physical brain doesn’t have to. Your calendar, your email inbox, your reminders app, your todo list app, all of these are part of your second brain.

Mercury will be going retrograde in Taurus soon, and I’ve been thinking that the timing of my discovery of Building a Second Brain is very apt. Taurus is the sign of embodiment. Mercury in Taurus is embodied thought, and second brains are made of embodied thoughts.

You’ve probably been keeping a second brain for years, even if you haven’t called it that. We are inundated with information all the time, and our brains aren’t evolved to handle it, so we use apps as tools to extend the capabilities of our memories. Building a Second Brain is about learning to use these tools in an intentional and organized way.

In essence, Tiago’s technique is simple: Capture every bit of information that catches your eye. Like early modern gentlemen hoarding beautiful ideas in the chaos of commonplace books, he suggests saving all the information we find important in apps, allowing the chaos to inspire our creativity.

We naturally muse on things that interest us while doing other things. If we capture the insights we form from those musings in our second brain, we will find much of the thinking and research work already done for us by the time we’re ready to act on it.

His solution to information overload may be high tech–the influence of Uranus in Taurus, maybe–but the technique is still embodied, taurean. When thoughts are recorded, they no longer ricochet off each other ephemerally until they vanish. They are given fixed form, a purpose, and something to do.

Mercury in Taurus: Thinking Slow

Taurus is an uncomfortable place for Mercury in the modern world because it is forced to slow down. When Mercury is in the sign of the bull, it ruminates on information like a cow chewing cud.

Mercury’s retrograde in Taurus makes Mercury extra slow, so slow it seems backward. But Mercury in Taurus isn’t “slow” in the sense of “stupid.” It’s slow in the way slow food is slow. Creative. Made from scratch. Wholesome. Allowed all the time it needs for flavors to develop. Caramelized onions rather than the raw ones that make you cry.

Tiago points out that most of the information we consume is created quickly and just as quickly forgotten. It’s as if we spend our days eating nothing but raw onions.

I’ve noticed that when I am on a “raw onion” information diet, I am emotionally overwhelmed and intellectually depressed at the end of the day. My head is full of information, but none of it intrigues me. None of the thoughts filling my head lead anywhere. I have dreams about living in an airport waiting for a plane that never arrives. I wonder if Samuel Beckett spent too much time reading the newspaper when he was writing Waiting for Godot.

The Benefits of Slowing Down

I have naturally found myself slowing down while Mercury is in Taurus. I am two months postpartum, and I have a lot of quiet time while I’m feeding a drowsy infant. At least one of my hands is always occupied, so I can’t do much but watch TV or scroll through my phone.

More often than not, lately, I feel like I’ve already gotten sick of raw content, and I’m hungry for longer reads that require time to digest. I am reading more books. Since discovering Building a Second Brain, I’ve been reading more with projects in mind, adding a few onions to the pot at every feeding time.

The more I move to a slow-information diet, the more often I find myself just looking out the window instead of looking at a screen. My thoughts are interesting to me. They’re going somewhere. I don’t need to be entertained.

Then, later, when my hands are free, I pick up a pen.

#mercury #taurus

[ofallthingsnasty]

It's been a few days since I read your RD2 fic "through the briar" and AHHHHGHGHHH!!! I haven't been able to think of anything else since then, it is such an amazing read. Look I like a softened up Micah as much as the next person, but it was so refreshing to have him portrayed as nasty and horrible as he is in canon. Genuinely got chills and felt creeped out while reading it was great lol

So if its not too much trouble I would like to request maybe a small aftermath fic? Specifically the aftermath if reader did up getting pregnant from that terrible event in the woods. Either how things would play out with the reader being pregnant during the events of the game.

Or instead a mini fic about a few years into the future with the reader already having at least one child with Micah living in a small cabin somewhere. And deciding to grab their kid and make a run for it while Micah is away, and the terrible consequences of that :/

I will honestly be happy with either one of these, if you feel like writing them.

Thank you for taking the time to read this long rant and request :)

Oh my god, I got the notif for this while I was at the drug store and I just stood there smiling my ass off at my screen while people pushed me away -- thank you so much, and I am so so happy that you liked it!! Its anniversary is coming up and it's genuinely my favorite fic I've written so far 😭💖💖 I am so honored that it gave you something to chew on, I really wanted to creep my readers out haha

Micah just fascinates me. I really don't like him but his character is just so fucking good - he's positively mesmerizing, a huge part of that is because of Peter Blomquist's absolutely stellar voice acting. I've never had this with a character and haven't found it again so far, Micah is just special. (Hahaha sorry for the ramble lol)

Regarding your requests - have you been living in my brain? 😂💖 Those are exactly the two scenarios that intruge me the most and I want to write both -- because I can't pass up a fic with Arthur absolutely wrecking his relationship with you due to guilt and rage (directed at Micah) and the whole troupe reacting to what has happened (of course, they'd never know the full truth, considering Micah's ways with Dutch) - just a whole lot of suffering for poor, poor little old you. And the escape attempt scenario - and its consequences - have me feral. It's just getting worse and worse for you in this situation. Just a whole lot of delicious misery.

They both came up last year after I posted the fic - but because of me finishing up uni I couldn't even think about writing them. Now that I've got my diploma, I can finally tackle them -- so thanks for expressing interest!! I am putting them on my list for this year, I'm dying to write more Micah...

#ask #anon #/rdr2 #through the briar #i might have forgotten about these. a little. haha... but if there is still interest i am willing to write them!! #i'm currently re-playing chapter 6 bc i like bawling my eyes out i guess haha... #but seriously those chap 6 vibes are perfect for some 'aftermath' scenarios

[kittyisaddicted]

Stages

Somewhere this year I just gave up. No, I gave in. Gave in to the irresistible sponge that is my endorphin and serotonin seeking bubbly thing of a brain. My return to tumblr was a hell ride from start to now, and I enjoyed every bit of a sick second of it. 

Going through new and still ongoing shows with you all made me realise that my personal deal with media addiction comes in stages–just like grief, in a way. So bare with me for the 7 stages of (my) media addiction. 

Stage 1

The encounter. Gifs, scenes, little snippets from fics. The inacurate quotes kind of thing that makes me go “This might be interesting”. Going into the tags, a short google search (because tumblr search, you know, … sucks), the like. Finally googling: Where to watch …. And maybe having the luck to not need another streaming service grave for my earnings or a VPN to enjoy another mind and heart soaking piece of fiction. 

Stage 2

The beginning. Episode 1, the story unfolds. I’m chill. Watching episode 2. Seeing scenes I already know because of, you know, tumblr. All seems normal so far. Until I binge episode 3, 4 and 5 and stay up late for episode 6 and maybe get late to wor…

Stage 3

The pull. Or: the binge. If I’m lucky, there’s only one season so far. Or *only* 3 (though no one of us was lucky to have only 3 seasons of Malec Shadowhunters Malec). If there’s more, then welp, because life is now circling around watching episode after episode like earth circles the sky, no hostage taken, every spare second is dedicated to w a t c h i n g! Also, every second of the day is about thinking and every night is dreaming about it. I’m all in. 

Stage 4 

The high noon of addiction. Watching episodes alone is not enough anymore. I rewatch. I re-rewatch scenes on YouTube. I celebrate fan videos there also. My serotonin is up and running, i’m basically high all the time. I heavily search tumblr for meta, for gifs, for meta gifs. My brain and my heart are full, no space for anything else. Working is hard, living a normal life even harder. I’m constantly on my devices, consuming everything I can find, feeling both happy so many creators already did an amazing job and sad about possibly missing out something important, pure FOMO ensues. On the outside I try to seem normal, on the inside I’m craving MORE. MORE. MORE. 

Stage 5

The crawling. Now. Comes the phase where I not only unconsciously know but fully realise that there are actors behind those amazing scenes. That there where a lot of people putting a lot of work into this so it turns out as amazing at it is. And because I never get enough, I dive into their accounts, the meta about them and their relationships, the conventions, the interview snippets, the behind the scenes, the bloopers, there is. so. much. to. see. and. read!!! I am living in an alternate universe basically, borders between reality and fiction fade, the soundtrack is on heavy rotation, I quote both the show and the actors without having any mutuals in real life who know what I am talking about. 

Stage 6

The assimilation. I wake up from a fever dream. Life get’s easier again. As the whole show and cast live now rent free in my head, I can start to shift my interest from the original to the fan made bits and peaces, aka the fan fiction–canon, noncanon, doesn’t matter as long as the writing is in character and I get to know them better through the eyes of talented authors. The tags have a special place on the shelves of my well curated tumblr and ao3 lists (because you know, #The Serotonin is stored in the Ao3) and at least five of my brain cells have another content than my latest blorbo. 

Stage 7 

The retreat. My brain leaves me space for new things. I can concentrate again on other things beside them™, like, well, working, cooking, sleeping, you name it. My sweeties have a special place in my heart from now on, and I will always willingly come back to them for comfort. But right now, the urge to follow everything about them, to dedicate everything I have to them, is gone or, better, just a silent thought in the back of my head. 

#and then of course I am ready to start it all over with the next one #going in circles like any good addict would do #in shorter terms every time #so someday I will go from one phase into the other simultaneously for multiple shows #but for now I regret nothing #supernatural #destiel #good omens #ineffable husbands #shadowhunters #malec #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #stranger things #suits #harvey x donna #how to get away with murder #connor walsh #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series

[greenbirdtrash]

Things about being an autistic adult that i'm not usually talking about, pt.1

1. Sometimes I'm really struggling with maintaining even the basic body needs, and it only gets worse because i don't really feel hunger, minor physical discomfort or thirst until it's too late, which usually ends up with me being totally exhausted and getting mad at everything for no reason. Same goes with overeating and feeling sick after that - i usually can't tell when i'm full and trying to eat in small portions to prevent that

2. My masking mechanism is mirroring other people, and i found this out not so long ago.

If we started to communicate on a regular basis, over time i can "adopt" a part of your personality and some behaviour traits without processing a single thought. I'm not even noticing that unless someone points this out. This changes from one friend circle to another. Unless we're really close with each other, it's not really my "personality", it's actually yours/someone else's from the same friend group. It IS annoying for some people, but i can't really do much with it

3. Sound sensitivity. I can't "filter" the background noises, and i can hear even the soft high-pitched sounds made by phone chargers/light bulbs. At the same time, i have troubles processing speech in the loud environment, i twitch from VERY loud and sudden sounds and my eyes are just starting to get wet for no reason after that (Usually i'm good at hiding that or just blame it on the bright lights if anyone asks me). I hate it even when there's two or more people talking at the same time, i have to put myself together to get what they're trying to say if they're even talking to me. It's really hard to concentrate on it

4. Navigation and visiting new places.

I'm very good at following any routes i already know, and i prefer to take them even if there is shorter/easier ones....well, if i never was there before. I can't just pick a new route or enter a new grocery store/hospital/post office/anything else for the first time if i'm alone.I remember a day when i was still studying, and i stood outside the professor's office (at the exact same day when i had to deal with some problems with my documents) for approximately 1 hour before someone opened the door and asked if i need something

I just get something like a brain block which doesn't allow me to do something, and i can even start to panic because i'm out of my "well-known comfort zone". I often need a person who can guide me somewhere, and then i have no problems with doing it myself. You don't have to follow me everywhere, but i truly appreciate it when you help me with that.

5. Couple of years ago I also had huge troubles with just answering the phone (i still prefer text over calls, all my friends know that, but seeing my phone vibrating with a call from unknown number still gives me a bit of anxiety), because when i'm stressed, i can go completely non-verbal.

Why? I just have a feeling that sudden call means "something bad happened", and if i don't pick up, i can somehow ignore the imaginery bad stuff and it won't happen to me

Somehow i managed to deal with that with lots of practice with my therapist when i had to make my own appointments, and eventually i kinda gaslighted myself into believing that it's not much different than voice chats with my friends. Now i can at least make an important call and don't feel very exhausted after it

#birdie talks #autism vent #autism awareness

[amberfossils]

👉👈 tord headcanons?

PICKING YOU UP AND THROWING YOU AROUND (as a greeting)

Here's my Tord headcanons/how he is in my idiot pea brain au (or just eddsworld but how I pretend it is tm), also it's a very long post oops. I might actually make a proper like timeline later but shrugs. Rather just put it somewhere first to get it outta my lil brain cavern

also when i say long i fucking MEAN long, okay? I fucking warned you

Generally he's pretty close with Matt, they're very open with one another and he goes to Matt for honest advice. Matt's not the greatest for book smarts but he's good for a lot of the things Tord struggles with (understanding complex emotions, coping mechanisms, how to go about certain things, how to process his trauma, if he should go to a therapist ((he should)), etc), so it works out pretty well. He's also just a rat bastard so they're best buds

He's more neutral towards Tom, he's not a big fan of him just due to them both tending to do things their own separate way and not being really interested in putting the effort into improving their relationship. They coexist, and sometimes they'll hang out, but it's usually something like watching a movie or a board game, nothing too grand.

He's also very close with Edd, but he's less open to really telling him secrets or looking to him for comfort- they're good friends, sure, but they're not exactly opening their hearts to eachother over coffee every morning. Edd takes them all on cool adventures and technically owns the house, and Tord follows along because they're interesting and he thinks Edd's pretty funny and being around those three doesn't get boring.

Tord is completely asexual but v sex-positive! He doesn't find anyone attractive per say but he still finds it enjoyable so he's fine w/ it as long as his partner understands that.

He's also aro and romantically indifferent. Like he finds some people romantically attractive, but he doesn't really care for labeling his relationships with people and he doesn't find that different labels make him happier, and personally prefers to call himself aromantic (not arospec or aspec or any other label under the umbrella, but specifically aromantic). He's specifically romantically attracted to masculine presenting people.

He goes by he/him if you ask him but he doesn't actually mind being called any other pronouns other than she/her. He literally doesn't have preferred pronouns, it's more just the ones people already use so he says em that way nobody gets confused. He doesn't say he has no pronouns though because he looks very, cishetallo and the last time he said he had no pronouns there was kind of a misunderstanding about whether he was making fun of them or not so he just SAYS he/him.

He's agender but he believes he's cis, and thinks that if he wasn't born a man he'd just sorta be whatever. If you asked him that "what gender would you be if your consciousness was put into a robot?" question he'd just be like "i would be a sick ass fucking robot who cares??" and he'd think that's what every cis person feels like

He's also blonde, his hair color changes in different eras because he dyes it.

He's also a big fan of techwear and cyberpunk clothing, but he tends to dress more average because it's too much effort for him to make a proper outfit just to go back inside in like 10 minutes. He over-thinks his outfits a lot so it's not really worth it to dress up all cool every single time he goes to the grocery store, and he's not a big fan of being confronted (although he's not afraid of confrontation, he thinks the comments are annoying and he's not usually in a good enough mood to deal with it).

He prefers black and red, and he can't wear white because he constantly stains his clothes.

Sometimes he does dress up, usually because Matt wants to make different outfits and wants opinions on them or because Matt said something would look good on him. He won't go out in any of the outfits on his own, but sometimes Matt convinces him to go out together n do stuff.

He genuinely enjoys tackling problems and finding solutions to things, as well as learning how things work (both as parts and as a whole), and he took up PC building as a hobby before working up to tinkering and inventing things himself. He also works as a vehicle mechanic :]

He's very anti-capitalism in general, but extremely strongly against capitalizing on disabilities. This, combined with his newfound skills in tinkering and engineering, leads him to start creating his own prosthetics. He starts off simpler before making them more and more complex and more and more functional, constantly working to challenge his skillset more and more and find new problems to solve.

After a while, he feels like his current job isn't challenging him enough and it's getting boring, so he decides to search for something that would properly use his newfound skills and beliefs. He wants to sell his prosthetics and inventions, but to do so and make enough profit would mean making them extremely expensive, which is what he's very much against.

At this point, he's already very against the current government that enables and encourages corruptness and greed, and like the undiagnosed mentally ill bitch who's never experienced true failure and constantly survived many, MANY near-death experiences, he's like fuck it! I can do better! I definitely won't fuck this up or get killed by the government lols

So anyway he goes to Edd and he's like Hey! I have this great idea! We should overthrow the government with sick fucking robots and take over the world!!

And Edd's like! That's the dumbest idea ever, Tord! Like actual batshit! Like I'm not even that stupid!

So Tord's like fuck! Okay! Mr. 'i can survive anything and nobody can tell me no or question my judgement when I throw out batshit ideas' says he doesn't wanna help! I'll just ask my old work pals Paul and Pat, who ALSO hate the government and capitalism, to start a revolution with me!

And uh they do. And it's going well with Paul and Pat's help, and I could talk about the actual relationships between them but not the point, basically Tord just makes big decisions and finds a cool bunker to make their main base and makes cool robots. But, his main mecha is in his workspace at Edd's house. He leaves and takes Paul and Pat with him to this new bunker he found, deciding he could come back for the mecha.

So their little army grows, and it's generally just referred to as "the red army" as a stupid joke before they get a real name. It sticks anyway though, because now their soldiers are referring to it as that and it'd be confusing to rebrand.

I'll go into more detail later, but basically Pat does a lot of the recruiting, whilst Paul uses some land he owns (inheritance) to have stores and restaurants and bars open to make money for the army.

As it continues, the army grows stronger, and eventually Tord feels like he's ready to actually start the takeover. He has spies implanted, plans made. So he decides it's time to get the mecha back.

He gets the mecha! Cool. But, Tom finds out about it, which we can't have- he can't have someone spoil his plans, so he attempts to kill him, or at least make him... Forget.

The issue with this is, well, he doesn't have the memory eraser gun. After it's initial failure, he decided to scrap it and use it for spare parts. So, fuck it, all aboard the let's kill Tom train!

Basically that gets fucked up because some monster Tom strength bullshittery I don't care enough to work out. Figure it out, Tom has the strength of god and he's just as tired. That's for later though

So, Tord thinks he's dead, realizes Edd and Matt also are here now, and he's like shit! Fuck! ass! curse words in various languages! and gets his shit blown up. And, btw, he is CONSTANTLY from then on confused as to why Tom survived the whole house falling on him and shit with barely a scar.

Too bad, he gets picked up by Pat and Paul and (shocker) they can't do the initial plan for the takeover if the mecha is broke as shit. Luckily enough for Tord, he knows about prosthetics! And he makes a fuckin WICKED arm. And, you know what? Why not throw in a sick helmet too? Listen, he's stuck out-of-service with nothing to do for a while, he made a super cool cyberpunk helmet.

He also learns about something going on in one of the towns that Paul has a bar in! There's stories of some sort of large monster roaming around at night, killing those who are out too late. Apparently housing is pretty cheap there though because of it. And in THIS housing market? Yeah, the monster practically has an infinite supply of food.

So, like anyone who thinks that they have bested god and that nothing on earth could ever kill them (listen surviving an actual explosion, zombie apocalypse, and multiple intruder/serial killers, and also not assassination attempts? kinda going to his already VERY inflated ego), he's like yeah!! I don't gotta remake the mecha from scratch- I can get my hands on this monster! this will not backfire!

He goes to the town and he's searching around breaking into places the monster has been and he's like shit, this just looks like an animal attack. He doesn't know shit about the local wildlife or anything like that, but he's also kind of sure that no animal around here or on earth would have claws big enough to leave those kinds of scratches around the place, so he's got his hopes up.

He also decides to stay the night at a hotel, and ends up trying to find the monster by going out late at night. He goes to Paul's bar, disappointed that he hadn't managed to tempt it out, and comes face to face with Tom, a bartender who's been working there for about... well, since the incident. Listen, housing prices were decent when they first moved in, and now with this whole monster thing (conveniently happening after the incident, when Tom and the other two first moved in)? Yeah settling down here was kind of an obvious choice for him.

Tom doesn't recognize him at first because personally me fucking neither, you come in where I work I am not looking at you I serve you you're gone to me. Do not care. Eventually though, he looks up and realizes who it is and basically completely freezes in shock. Thankfully/due to plot purposes it's like a fucking tuesday at 9 pm and nobody's there, so.

I'll go into more detail talking about Tom about his shifts and shit but whoopsies he's like half shifted and Tord's running out of room to run real fucking quick! So like any normal person, and I mean no normal person because Tord is anything but rational, he's like oh sick! you won't hurt me I'm your friend. anyways he's half right because sure, Tom doesn't KILL him, but only because he's only half shifted and surprised and listen he has work tonight and he wants tips and if he shreds his uniform he'll have to buy a new one. So, Tord just gets kicked out, and he calms down and shit.

Tord remakes his prosthetic and he's planning on using Tom (who is unaware of his plans and has not agreed to partake in this "new world order" thing) as the secret bioweapon to slaughter platoons of men. yippee!

Blah blah hurt comfort, Tom's angry and Tord's trying desperately to comfort him to attempt to apologize for his previous actions whilst also evaluating his own problems and dealing with them headfirst instead of just pretending like he's all mentally there and completely diving into his work though. Tom's taken back to the base in exchange for getting more understanding and control over his monster form and also cash, because he hates customer service and he especially hates customer service with drunk customers. He's not happy about it though.

Obviously, Matt's worried about Tom because he just kind of up and leaves and shocker, the monster goes with. And he's like "what the fuck why do all my best friends keep leaving now I'm stuck here with just Edd :/ plus I kinda liked tom he was chill" so he starts investigating into it, yadda yadda more I'll talk about when I infodump about me in this au/hc thingy

Basically Tom's coming along in the whole monster thing, he's basically god and Tord's very into the idea of having some eldritch monster on his team and Tom's very into the idea of sitting around and getting paid to fuck around so it's all good. Eventually though he has to tell Tom hey! btdubs the whole plan is to like use you as a superweapon and take over the world, sooooo. And Tom's not a big fan! And he's not too happy about working with Tord (again)!

Tord eventually wins him over with "but it'll be fucking sick thomas. cmonnnnn thomas, it'll be cooooooool!!! ur like some rad monster dude it'll be fine, you won't get hurt anyway so who gives a shit" and Tom's kind of desperate to do something memorable with his life and Tord telling him he'll be his right hand man and that he'll basically gain a place in history for being some fucked up monster gets him. So woooooo plan for world domination is a-go

Lots of shit happens but most importantly, now with the war and shit going on Matt's more worried and Edd's mad about cola and Matt, desperate to find a way to find Tom and make sure he's okay, is like shit! I'll join whichever side if they'll take me. And I mean come on. One of the sides has a sick fucking monster, okay?

So blah blah Matt's here! Tord's unaware of it, Matt's unaware of Tord, it's whatever. Tord just kinda exists doing paperwork and meetings and laws and making plans, rarely showing up to the front lines only to keep Tom in line.

Yada yada war, eventually he finds out about Matt and Matt's a bit upset but he knows where Tom is and oh, if he stays he can make sure he's safe and that everything's going well, and he's pretty sure Edd hasn't really given a shit that he left at all so yahoo into the army! He does less fighting and more supplies and planning out less important things Tord doesn't care about. Yada yada, Edd starts a revolution as Tord is winning and it's kind of a hell zone. And as far as Tom and Matt are concerned, he's kind of a piece of shit so him being on the opposite side is whatever. Eventually though he's starting shit and stealing from their army, including a time machine, and god fucking dammit, Edd.

They fucking drag his ass back to modern times and tell him to calm the fuck down and join them, because literally who cares, Edd. And Edd's a prick about it but he shuts up because he doesn't REALLY have much else of a choice

Tord tries to rekindle his friendship with the three whilst also tackling his issues regarding how he views relationships as expendable, how he's afraid of being powerless and feeling like he could do anything slowly turning into him spiraling in fear of not being a good enough leader and being unable to properly account for all of the issues going on under his reign and things aren't going very well! He also has a difficult time letting things be handled without him involved because he's terrified that his own army will be corrupted with greed and he has to stop it at it's roots and- basically he grows more and more paranoid every day that horrible things will happen and everyone around him is actually all in on a secret plan to kill him and shit due to past trauma which I'm just gonna:

-constantly put down and feels like his only option in life is to do what his parents want for him regardless of how he feels about his own life, from big things like his future career to who he spends time with to how he cuts his hair. They're extremely overbearing at the best of times, if not downright obsessive over his every movement and thought process, making him believe he is powerless in his own life and that if he doesn't do everything perfectly the first time it will all fall apart around him

-speaking of which, because of his previous lack of power he sees other people less as human beings and more like pawns for him to control, making him also overbearing towards other people and constantly needing control over them so they do not gain any control over him, meaning he also tends to put less effort or meaning into his relationships with other people

-as his army gets bigger there are a few key betrayals, including big things like assassination attempts (all of which have been thwarted by Tom before Tord was ever actually harmed) to little things like Tom being out of his quarters past curfew to have movie night with Matt without his permission. These all seem to dog-pile on him as he's terrified of every tiny speck of disloyalty or hint that maybe they're not completely under his control

Whilst this is all going down they repeatedly prove themselves to be loyal to him; Tom's come to like him more as a friend and is basically his bodyguard, Matt continues to be as affectionate and constantly checks up on his physical well-being and tries his best to suggest different things to help with whatever issues, and Edd continues on being a spy and consistently relaying accurate information and killing those that get in the way of the army.

That's about as far as I'm at storywise :) I uh. I don't think anybody read this far but shrugs

#slaps this post #this bad boy can fit so much source memories and vague references towards my source memories #also saying Matt and not me/i was weirrrrrd??? #long post #headcanon #ew headcanons #eddsworld headcanons #yall saw this in the discord server i fucking popped off

[asexual-means-no-attraction]

Thank you so much for your extensive answer! It helps a lot! If it's alright, I'd like to ask an add-on question. How would you go about peppering in / hinting at a character being trans without outright stating they are? If they're not a main character, I'm not entirely sure how to go about it, especially if the main character hasn't known them since before they came out. It seems to me this would be a bit different than hinting at a character not being straight (though I still struggle with that despite being bi myself) but that might be bc I dont write about romantic attraction at all in my works, but I figured that something usually physical like being trans would out itself differently? Hopefully this isn't too confusing. Tl;dr: any tips on writing a trans character that isn't the protag? And is there a way to hint at them being trans esp if they go stealth? Thank you again! Even if you can't answer this, your other answer has helped tremendously already so thank you very much

Honestly. I always finds jokes are a great way to come out.

When I was still a women I worked at a park. I came out during a joke when another co-worker (the only other women) was talking about an attractive guy like "[name] gets it." I joked back that I sided with the guys. From then on it was a running joke. One of my co-workers sat down in a seat right after another got up and commented "damn, brain has a hot ass" because the seat was so warm. Our boss happened to walk past at that exact moment and joked that he was coming out of the closet. "I dunno about you, but [name] and I like chicks."

It was all good fun and it made it more enjoyable then stressful or awkward. I have done similar things for being trans. There's a lot of clever ways to slip in jokes that won't distract from the story while still being pretty clear.

Another option would be to go through some of the struggles of the actual process. Possible ideas:

-they're in the process of getting a legal name change. So work/student emails, official paperwork might have the wrong name. You can have someone notice this, or have them complain about it. That's actually how I got outted at my current job. My work email wasn't changed yet despite me already having a name change since I didn't have a new social security card yet.

-if they're working somewhere they might just say "hey, my mom might call the office/store today. If a women asks for someone named [name] then come get me." <- idea being their mom isn't accepting/doesn't know they are trans.

-they can just casually mention something related to it. Similar to how a women might say "my wife and I did [x] this weekend" a trans person might mention something like being nervous about going swimming cuz they don't pass as well in swimsuit. Or complaining about getting their prescription filled cuz pharmacies can be frustrating sometimes. Depending on if they're friends or if they joined another conversation they might be talking about binding/tucking, how the gel packs for hrt dries out their arms, dealing with facial hair, their voice, etc etc.

-as for stealth that'll be harder without lending into it being more ambiguous than clearly established. More so if it's a minor character. Some ideas off the top of my head would be having the wrong name on their ID when they get ID checked for something and it's commented on being a strange name. They have to laugh it off and say that's why they use a nickname. An example of his would be the show monkie kid. The main character has a nickname and anytime anyone learns his read name (never shown) they comment that it doesn't fit. This has lead to a lot of head cannons.

-Or if they are a trans man who just recently started hrt his voice might crack. Maybe he's weirdly knowledgeable about pads and tampons. There's lots of reasons for that beyond trans so it'd be a possible hint, not a clear one.

-Same thing if they know a lot about girl/boy scouts despite being male/female. Perhaps they have an award that is gender dependant hanging in their home. Ex: girl scout gold award or the equivalent boy scout eagle scout award.

Thats all I can think of right now. But if anyone else has ideas feel free to add. Good luck writing!

#answered #ask #not discourse #advice #writing #long post #trans