#idk if im correct with this assumption but...it was fun to draw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

actuallysaiyan · 3 years

Text

My Personal Love Story: Vegeta

Request:

"hi!! first, congrats on 1k!! i love everything you write and im so happy other people do too<3 okay so, id like to request fluffy relationship headcanons with Vegeta<3 a few things about me, im 5'2 and i really love tattoos and drawing/painting/tattooing. ive given myself like 16 this year, and one of my personal favorites is a Bunny on my calf since my chosen name is Bunny lmao. i can be pretty talkative at times,, idk my personality type? but im a pisces sun, libra rising, and aries venus! i like walking around and making jokes about random things on dates, just making each other laugh and spending quality time when we can:) my favorite musician is hard to choose, but recently id say Mitski<3

thank you so much if you do this, and its okay if you don't too<3

also, pretty sure i have adhd (as a detail)"

My Personal Love Story: Vegeta

Your Song: Space Age Love Song- A Flock Of Seagulls

Headcanons:

It took some time for Vegeta to get used to you, but once he realized how sweet and fun to be around you were, he made exceptions. He’d allow you to come watch him train or fight Goku, but it really surprised him when you stayed and watched him the whole time and then you’d compliment him on his fighting.

From that time, Vegeta realized how he truly likes you. He has a hard time showing his true emotions and gets hot headed from time to time, but he always wants you to know that he enjoys your company so much.

Lots of time spent watching him train and even letting him teach you a few moves. He’s got a big ego, so the more time you spend complimenting him and listening to him teach you a new move, he’s going to really appreciate it.

If he does take anytime to actually train you, you know you’ve got a very good bond with Vegeta. He doesn’t fight just anyone, but when he’s with you, he just wants to be close to you no matter what.

Vegeta actually really loves going on dates with you. Whenever he’s not training or fighting, he loves going out with you and doing something fun together. If it’s a competitive activity, Vegeta can get a little too intense with it at times.

If you’re more into spending time doing your own thing at home, be it drawing or painting, Vegeta is more than okay with also doing his own thing. He enjoys just being near you and within your company. He loves having quiet moments where the two of you are just being passionate with your hobbies and passions.

Vegeta loves listening to you tell him stories about your day or even just things that have happened to you in the past. He secretly loves pillow talk and cuddling. It’s one of his favorite things to do with you. Nothing beats holding you close to him after you’ve made love and you are enchanting him with your voice.

Speaking of which, your voice really comforts Vegeta. He feels at peace whenever he hears you. If you cheer him on while he’s battling, he will make a big effort to show off in front of you and have you marvel at his strength. Vegeta loves it whenever you call him “my prince”. Depending on when he hears it, it could have different outcomes.

He would literally die for you. Or kill for you. Either way, you know that Vegeta is going to protect you from now and until forever. He will not let anyone hurt you in any way, be it physically, mentally or emotionally. There’s no way anyone will even get the chance to. He’s your lover and you know you can count on him to keep you safe.

Vegeta absolutely wants a family with you. He doesn’t want to push it on you, but he really wants to have many children with you. He loves the idea of being a father and with you by his side, he’ll always be at peace.

How You Started Dating:

This was becoming somewhat funny. You and Vegeta have been running into each other at Bulma’s parties so much that you both were kind of laughing at it. Sure, you both knew you’d be invited, but you always figured Vegeta would stick to Goku or Bulma all night. He never struck you as someone who would mingle.

But now it’s been so many times you’ve been up close and personal with him. He seems so much more charming now. He smiles when you talk, but he does keep it a secret only shared with you. Vegeta tells you of his passions and dreams. It’s an odd thing to witness, but you are falling more and more in love with him as the time passes.

“Tch, figures you’d be here again.” Vegeta scoffs with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Yeah, bet you’re really sad about it, huh?” You joke and you see a smirk on his face. He moves closer to you but he’s careful that nobody has really spotted either of you.

Vegeta leads you to a private bedroom, and once the door is closed, he leans in to kiss you. You’re a little surprised but you are more satisfied than anything. You can’t believe that Vegeta has finally made a move on you.

“I never thought you’d kiss me,” you challenge him. Vegeta just chuckles.

“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know, woman. Would you like to stick around and find out?” There’s a slight hopefulness in his voice. You smile and lean in to kiss him again.

“Is this your cheesy way of asking me out?”

A slight blush on his cheeks would suggest that your assumptions are correct. Vegeta just avoids your eye contact and he mutters how this is stupid. You know he’s just a little flustered.

“I’d love to go out with you, Vegeta.”

“Of course you would, I am the prince of all Saiyans.”

#1k followers event #actuallysaiyan's 1k followers event #bacon's 1k followers event #vegeta x you #vegeta x reader #vegeta x y/n #vegeta x fem reader #vegeta #dragon ball z #dragon ball z fluff

86 notes · View notes

nightswithkookmin · 3 years

Note

chile i'm so glad i came across your blog, the amount of "i'm not going to assume they're dating" or "we can only draw certain conclusions but i can't say for sure" "we don't know their sexuality, BUT" type blogs i follow is getting kinda wack lmao. while i appreciate their perspective and nuanced takes i need to strike a balance. like let's get a lil delulu every once in a while. 💀

lol the im-not-a-shipper-but-call-jikook-boyfriends-every-other-post blogs are the funniest to me. the shipping hierarchy, so to speak is so weird. maybe just because im not a "shipping real people is bad" person i don't see the big deal. gonna get called delulu anyway, might as well go full out. they is gay/queer and they're fucking. i'm so sorry.

*also can we touch on the fact that shipping in this type of fandom (kpop) is kind of inevitable and unavoidable??! these boys are the other people we see them with day in and day out, interacting with each other and no one else. i feel like it's natural to ship when there's no other people around to break up everything, idk maybe someone can articulate this better than me. and people who are made to feel stupid for thinking that 2 members could actually be dating is so dumb. like is it really out of the realm of possibility that two people (jikook, cause all them other ships are....😬) who spent almost every waking minute together for like 8 years could fall in love. really?

/rant

It's the delulu hat for me

Lmho.

I guess for me being queer, I feel it's gaslighting for these people to be saying things like that. As silly as it is, it inadvertently deny and invalidate the existence and queerness of gay individuals and so I struggle with it.

This is the consequences of straight people in gay people business. They like defining gay parameters for us and it's like who asked you?? I feel people who say things like that are just plain ignorant or tone deaf or willfully homophobic.

I don't think everyone in BTS is gay but it makes me feel safe to see half the community assume them to be and celebrate them in that way. They are not cussing at them and threatening to leave the fandom or cancel them for this assumption and that is huge inspiration to me.

Those parts of the fandom are a safe space to be in as a queer army.

When people assume a person's queer sexuality they are simply admitting to themselves at the very least that LGBTQ EXISTS. This is important to me because I grew up in a community where LGBTQ didn't even exist in the collective consciousness of the people and EVERYONE IS AUTOMATICALLY ASSUMED TO BE STRAIGHT AND EXPECTED TO BE.

People read people's sexuality all the time and have done so since time immemorial and a lot of the time when they have had a sexuality read it's in the lines of straight, cis, rich, poor, superior or inferior. And that is a problem for some of us too because that discrepancy in the assumptions is as a result of homophobia and heteronormativity.

That whole don't assume a person's queer sexuality debacle sounds to me like a boujee way of denormalizing and preventing the normalization of queerness disguised under care, disguised under intelligence and disguised under wokeness. Especially when straightness is the default setting in this giant blue bulb.

We need to radicalize that. We need to change the cis straight default setting and if you are perpetuating this narrative you really aren't helping the situation. SIT DOWN.

I'm rarely assumed to be queer in certain circles and while that makes me feel comfortable within those circles it often times make it hard for me to admit my queerness openly in those circles too because I fear I will lose that comfort and respect and love and privileges that comes with being percieved straight in those spaces.

When I started my blog, I noticed some people assumed I was white and would use certain black descriptors as slurs when describing other people to me. I quickly had to switch the formal way in which I wrote to a much casual tone so my blackness would show through. Don't get it twisted. She black. She blackidy black black.

Then on the other hand, I was hesitant to let my queerness be known too because being black, I was marginalized as it is- you is black, or sound black💀 you know how it is- it's that intersectionality of oppression at play. Double double homicide.

When certain people realized I was black POC minority, their attitude towards me changed. I had those who didn't so much understand what black language is or perhaps wasn't used to being in black spaces and were uncomfortable with my blackness- these would take offense at me saying certain things in certain ways. Like chilee relax Karen, all I said was these motherfukkers gay as shit and they gay. Why you acting like I called them twinks or sommin. Right there, I'm cancelled for calling Jikook motherfuckers. They get sirens and everything😭😭😭😭😭😭

Same vein, I struggle destraightening myself or correcting people who assume I'm straight because I fear they will treat me differently if they knew I wasn't.

Straight privilege exists in the same way as white or even pretty privilege may exist and because these exist there's that automatic conception of queer, poc, ugly, fat disemfranschismet to run along side it.

People treat you differently based on how they perceive you. That's a fact. And for queer people, perceiving us as straight is the only way we get to be treated as human by the masses. And a lot of us embrace that- straight until proven gay am I right 🤣🤣🤣🤣

It's the duper's delight for me. Untill you catch me with a 5'8 melanin skinned silk pressed auntie on my left nipple good luck proving I'm gay.

It can be fun, I akekeke when some people around me are totally oblivious to the fact and even sometimes defend my straightness with their dying breath when nasty friends throw them shades or try to out me unprovoked.

A lot of us don't want to admit we are gay because we don't want to be disenfranchised.

I speak for myself when I say this.

But 'Don't assume someone's sexuality' is a double edged censorship used for and against queer people. It seemly offers protection on the surface of it for queer people but underneath it promotes heteronormativity and standardizes straightness and it is also used to promote closet culture, under the disguise of care and concern for the autonomy of queer people but that is a fallacy because our autonomy has never mattered to anyone since the dawn of homophobia.

And I don't know where this interpretation comes from. Why do people not want to assume queer people's sexuality but it's ok to assume straight people's???

It feels like a hijacked movement to me.

THIS IS THE ACCURATE MOVEMENT AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED.

Don't assume all people are straight. It's ok to assume some people are queer because queer people exists too.

It is wrong however to assume queerness based on how a person talks, walks, dresses or even on their body type. That is stereotyping. And stereotyping is wrong.

When it comes to Jikook, Jimin is often stereotyped as gay more so than Jungkook because they have different body structures. Jungkook is stereotyped too solely because of the way his wrists hang, or based on moments he's femininity shines through.

But I don't think shippers stereotype Jikook in that way at all. I dont think shippers believe Jikook are dating eachother simply because Jungkook applied setting powder to his face that one time. They assume they are gay only because they believe those two to be dating eachother. That is not stereotyping. If those two were heterosexuals I don't think people will accuse their shippers of stereotyping.

It's one thing to assume Kai is gay because he looks skinny and dances well. It's another to assume he is gay because in a relationship with Gdragon. And if people can't tell the difference between the two, they should get some education and stop talking about things they know nothing about or only know because they stumbled across user69 on Twitter. They are not helping.

Untill people get offended when people assume others are straight, that rhetoric doesn't matter in its inequality. If you ask me, everyone is gay until proven straight.

Yet how many people will take offense at that?

Assuming people can be gay is not delulu.

It's ok to assume people can be gay. It's wrong to stereotype them as gay. If you can't assume they are gay, don't assume they are straight and don't assume at all. Run with this sis.

Wait, they don't ship Jikook but they call Jikook boyfriends???????👀👀👀👀👀

The fake woke syndrome will kill people in this fandom with these mentally confused thought crisis bunch💀💀💀💀

Jikook themselves are shippers💀

Smh

GOLDY

58 notes · View notes

briefinquirys · 3 years

Note

Answer all of them!! I’m curious!! :)

okay i’ll do em all cause im bored:,) thank u for being curious!!

1. how did you get into their music? my mom played chocolate for me in 2014 lol

2. who’s your favourite band member? matty will always have a huge place in my heart even tho he’s a shit

3. what’s your all time favourite the 1975 song? probably paris but this changes so often lol

4. favourite song off the 1975? pressure

5. favourite song off iliwys? paris

6. favourite song off abiior? i couldn’t be more in love

7. favourite song off noacf? having no head or fsom

8. the 1975 or iliwys? self-titled🥺

9. abiior or noacf? abiior is my fav album by them hehe

10. have you ever seen them live? if so how was it? yes, i saw them 3 times in 2016-17 ! it was the most amazing experience and i met so many lovely people. i saw them play menswear, you, me, undo, medicine and a bunch of other songs that are really special to me so it’s such a wonderful memory to have

11. if you could hear them play 10 of your favourite songs live what would they be? im not gonna do 10 because i’ve seen them play a lot of songs i adore, but i’d love to hear i couldn’t be more in love, america, mine, woman, and antichrist (lol)

12. pink era or the black and white era? pink eraaaaa omg but the b&w era gives me so much nostalgia

13. favourite music video? sincerity or people

14. if you got to meet one person from the band who would it be and why? im sure you all assumed it would be matty and you are correct in that assumption. i owe a lot to him and feel a connection w him because of how much i relate to his lyrics and some of his personal experiences, and because of how much of a constant he’s been for me over the last 6 years, and i’d like the opportunity to tell him that and thank him

15. do you own any merch? if so what? i have a couple tour t shirts and bracelets, and idk if cds and vinyls count as merch but i have a signed iliwys cd and their discography on vinyl (minus iliwys)

16. what song(s) do you listen to when you’re in a bad mood? when i’m in a bad mood i like to wallow, so i listen to me, woman, she lays down, and i couldn’t be more in love

17. what lyrics mean a lot to you? sooo many of them do but the first that comes to mind is “that orange english light casts only one, singular shadow, for you are not beside but within me”

18. create your dream setlist. ooooo boy this is gonna be a hefty one. 1. the 1975 (abiior) 2. people 3. girls 4. me & you together song 5. fallingforyou 6. america 7. it’s not living 8. be my mistake 9. menswear 10. settle down 11. fsom 12. mine 13. guys 14. i couldn’t be more in love 15. you+milk 16. pressure 17. the birthday party 18. sincerity 19. m.o.n.e.y. 20. love it if we made it 21. how to draw 22. the city 23. the sound 24. i always wanna die:-) i tried to keep the length accurate and follow a similar ish structure to their usual setlists. i’m sure i’m missing some

19. favourite single released? probs the birthday party or love it if we made it just bc of how hyped i was when they were released

20. what song do you wish we got a music video for? i will FOREVER be angry that they didn’t release the she’s american mv but other than that i’d have loved to see a video for ballad of me and my brain, i feel like it would’ve been so cool

nobody is going to read all of that but if u did, thank u and i love u<3 and thank u to the person who told me to answer all the questions, this was rlly fun:-)

#feel free to ignore this #omg it’s so much longer than i thought

1 note · View note

wintermutal · 4 years

Note

D, E, and Q for the writing ask 👁👁

end of the year writing meme

D. Any drawings or pictures that had a big influence on your writing?

i have aesthetic blogs for some of my characters, where i keep like, random shit that i associate with them, but in terms of general aesthetic probably john divola’s Dogs Chasing my Car in the Desert. i love that set of pieces.

E. Who’s your favorite main character you’ve written?

idk if an antagonist counts as a main character, but Dr. Dean Eiler is my fave person to write. he’s just awful. just literally terrible. he’s so incredibly insecure and immature that he’s incapable of seeing himself as anything but the victim in any situation, hes entitled as fuck, he has a traumatic backstory and thinks that excuses his behavior, and he cares so much about appearance over integrity that he’ll act like an entirely different person in front of people he knows could say something bad about him. overall he either genuinely believes what he’s doing is like, The Good And Correct Thing To Do or desperately finds a way to twist it so he can believe what hes doing is justified.

its like. oh god. hes literally a manchild. fun to write in the awful victor vale sort of way.

Q. Quote three bits of writing you read his year. Can be your writing, or not.

okay. man. this ones gonna be long.

this past year i spent a lot of time on scp stuff, so two of these three scenes are gonna be that; the first being the last time (probably ever) i wrote gears, and the second being a climax scene from my broken masquerade project. the third is a scene from something i wrote during nanowrimo, which is part of the exposition of my original story. im gonna post all this under a cut, because this shit is longer than i remember it being.

notes in italics. scenes in normal text.

in late spring i wrote a piece about all the people a foundation report has to go through in the broken masquerade universe to get put into the database. primarily, it was about the concept of everything in the SCP database being written anonymously, by ghostwriters hired by the foundation specifically to put together the reports, and how the foundation was like, a city of ghosts or w/e because the flesh and bone of it was anonymous. never published it because it was supposed to be at the end of my other big masquerade piece as the epilogue. more than that, though, i think this scene from it is notable because it was the last time i ever wrote gears, and i wrote him a lot differently than i would have when i was younger. this is a bit longer.

Gears heavily disproved of how Harrold had written the Starfish report. It wasn’t on a basis of skill— as someone who had written more than his fair share of reports, he found his technical descriptions of the disintegration of Site-56 and the resulting riot completely satisfactory— but rather on how Harrold had written about the SCPs themselves. He didn’t like how he’d called Miles by his name instead of his number (and his accession number at that; Gears loathed the new numbering system with a passion he did not express). He didn’t like how Site-56 had let Miles go outside in the first place. He didn’t like how they’d given him books. He didn’t like that they’d let him complete a high school equivalent in containment; he viewed that that was outside the Foundation’s responsibilities to provide him an education. He didn’t like that they hadn’t done more testing, and how they had given him the opportunity to move down from lockdown to a more relaxed procedure. The list went on.

All of these things, Gears thought bitterly, were things he would have never allowed back when he was the head of research at Site-19. He was a true Foundation hard liner, one of the last of his kind; one of the old horsemen who’d cracked down and worked, worked ruthlessly, tirelessly towards purely scientific gain. In modern Foundation terms, his policy had only become more conservative as he aged. He held a considerable amount of power in both the ethics committee and the 05 counsel, but both were still harshly divided on whether or not they agreed with the conclusions of his near half-century of Foundation experience.

In a lot of ways, he was the face of the Foundation. He was the grandfather. He was respected. But he also was one of the cruelest men many younger Foundation administrators would ever meet. He was quiet and polite in his mannerisms— of course, he was known for his stoicism, which had stuck with him into his old age and formed much of the outer shell of his notoriety— but what Charlie considered ‘cold’ was what many others considered ‘cruel’. There were plenty of Foundation administrators who still agreed with what he had to say and lined up behind him at every vote, but much of it was spurred either by intimidation or by the assumption that he simply knew what he was doing.

And in his mind, Gears did know what he was doing. He opposed every miniscule vote on every kind of policy in favor of humanitarianism. He’d sat down in his chair at the head of the council meetings and said in his emotionless tone that he didn’t believe in keeping D-Class around, for instance; that it was more scientifically accurate for them to be purged at the end of each month, a policy that hadn’t been in place since the late 1940s. He conducted himself with a pristine poise when asserting that he believed what was done in Korea was in the Foundation’s best interests, which was always seen as a rather cruel answer in regards to the civilians who had died.

Central Committee legend went that he hadn’t always been this ruthless. Jack Bright, 05-6, the only other person older than Charlie and far more progressive than him in his policy, claimed that there was a time when Gears had been softer than this. That he had been kinder. Not much kinder, but not outright bitter and stagnant like he was.

But that was a time far before Korea, and long before his promotion to 05.

So Charlie, looking at the Starfish report at his desk in Geneva, came to the conclusion that what was needed to remedy this situation was Foundation hard-linership. He believed that the Foundation had gotten too slack on the leash. He wrote up the gag order with the speed of a Foundation ghostwriter, albit hindered by the painful arthritis in his hands. He signed it electronically, again with much more difficulty then he considered permissible in terms of efficiency. And then he sent it out. And sat back in his wheelchair with the riot report in front of him. And thought for a while.

People had been joking for decades that Charles Gears would die at his desk. To Gears the real surprise was in the fact that he didn’t die in a lab in the basement of Site-19, in the deep Siberian dark where he’d run his laboratory with that cold stoic cruelty that shocked Foundation newcomers. His desk in Geneva faced a large bay window. In an incredible twist of irony— some would call it mercy— Charles Gears died in the light not an hour after writing the gag order. All he had to do was doze off.

___________________________________

next one is also from my old scp story. specifically, this would be part of the climax. glad i got this ask because it made me look over it again, and i want to modify this for my original stuff because it’s good as hell, but the original is very foundation-specific. also, this is the au where draven is awful. like, everyone is awful, but you know.

“You’re not the only one with a tragic backstory, you know,” Eiler called over his shoulder. “My father was a college professor. Taught classics, of all things. He was also one hell of an alcoholic…”

Miles heard a metal cabinet ram shut with a loud BANG. Something fell into the washbasin and thudded like dead weight. “When I was ten, he got into a drunk driving accident. They took him to the hospital and had him in with a shrink-” his voice suddenly was sharper against the tile and metal of the room, facing towards him now, “-and the shrink told him, ‘you know, it seems like your problems are ingrained in your identity, sir. Your personality, if you will. If you can find a core for yourself, some sort of foundation instead of resorting to whatever this is, you might do a lot better for yourself’”.

There was the sound of polished black dress shoes turning swiftly, then clacking like hooves on the polished white laminate, walking back towards the chair. “Well! My father never liked unsolicited advice from strangers to begin with, but that got to him. He waited damn near six months to get out of there, and in that time he decided exactly what kind of core he wanted.”

And then he was in his line of vision, smiling placidly like he always had. Miles squirmed against the leather restraints, and he disappeared again, reammerging with the careful insertion of an IV needle into the inside of his right elbow. Miles sucked in a breath. His gloved hands were exceedingly cold.

“He came home. Can’t you believe?” Eiler continued, circling back around to the front of the chair, then ripping the sterile plastic from a syringe. “He passed all the psychiatric evaluations from thereon out. Detoxed, even…” Eiler trailed off. The vial of liquid was so small Miles couldn’t make out the color until it was being pulled, millimeter by millimeter, up into the needle and the syringe beyond. Eiler tapped it carefully against the side of the glass tube, then held the plunger between his teeth and began to roll the sleeves of his pressed white dress shirt up to the elbow. In the sharp clinical light, the pale undersides of his forearms were littered with straight wisps of scars, lined like the braces of a railroad track.

“I really should have thought to do this beforehand,” he spoke around the syringe, then finished buttoning the cusps and removed it, holding it delicately in his right hand. “I apologize. Can’t be good clinical practice to hold it like that. But as I was saying.”

Before Miles had a moment to brace himself, the needle was in one of the pale blue veins of his left hand. He instinctively jerked what wasn’t pinned under a wrist restraint; without a moment’s hesitation, Eiler slammed his fingers under the tip of the tan armrest and held them there, forcing his palm down cool and steady, emptying the remainder of the contents into back of his grip. With his body pinned down, it was easier for Miles to realize he was trembling. The substance burned in a way that wasn’t explicitly painful, but left a sort of numbness in its wake that made a pit open in his stomach.

“He came home from the hospital. And detox. He told me about the shrink,” Eiler pulled the syringe out and walked somewhere behind him to dispose of it. Miles realized, vaguely, that although Eiler’s hands were gone, his own was still gripping the chair tightly, as if he was willing whatever it was to stop the inch-by-inch creeping of heat up his arm.

And then Eiler reappeared, now in the form of a hand around his lower jaw, bracing him forwards against the forehead restraint. Miles met his eyes, cool and calm; and then he drifted them down to Eiler’s throat, and realized with a sense of detached horror that he had loosened his tie.

“You know what he said?” Eiler muttered.

Miles could not respond. Whatever it was had travelled up to his neck now, creeping down his torso, coursing through his capillaries. He had never wanted something to stop more in his entire life. He had never wanted something to be a nightmare more.

“'If I’m going to build a foundation, I’m going to build it from the wreckage of you,’” Eiler whispered. And then smiled. And then took his hand away.

Miles swallowed. There was a vague awareness of the jumpsuit zipper pressing against his windpipe, gently, softly, present. Eiler stepped back.

“And then he did.”

The reality cycler roared to life. It occured to Miles that he was going to die.

———-

[x] Doberman Executioner

Flashes. Miles sees flashes from the machine to his right, then feels them behind him eyes, popping in the front of his skull, then ricocheting pain, and then Draven stands on a cold overhead catwalk and looks down on the crowd below and is afraid.

In. Out. Benjamin Kondraki fades from his mind and Alto Clef sets in, telling him he does not have to feel to shoot, and he does not have to think to finish a job. That’s how he killed all those kids, he thinks. He just was, and then they weren’t.

His body relaxes. The warmth in his chest is the feeling one gets with certainty, stability, a meaning. He remembers a time when he could think while doing these jobs, when his morals lined up with his soul and certainties. Not anymore. His job has changed since Korea. Now, his job is simply to be.

And Draven Kondraki would be.

———-

Although Miles does not physically hear the loud cracking sound he hears it mentally, like an electric shock, like something has wormed into one ear and whipped itself against bone. He feels tranquilized all at once; static on his tongue, invading his mouth, burning his teeth. Thinking becomes a struggle. There are small black dots at the edges of his vision and he slumps in the restraints slightly, then hauls himself upwards, pushes his back into the chair, groggily begs himself not to pass out, although it feels less like he wants to pass out and more like he wants to shrink his soul away and fall into a sleep as dark and smooth as the Marianas Trench.

He wants to sleep. Eiler woke him up, he remembers. He’s been so tired lately. He wants to go back to sleep…

And then there is a hand around his jaw, pushing him back against the headrest, tilting up upwards…yes, up to the moths in the overhead lights.

“There are no dogs in the deep dark,” the figure says, the shadow, the white tooth tiles of god, “That’s one high. And now we go low…”

———-

A single shot from the overhead catwalk. The girl’s head explodes into unrecognition. A memory from when he was eight surfaces, vaguely, in the back of his mind: his father saying humans take a tenth of a second to react to anything. Draven applies this tenth of a second. He drops the sniper rifle and starts to run as the crowd is recoiling, and as he runs he hears the sounds of more shots from the wings, from inside the crowd, from the imposters that have invaded this space with such precision.

———-

“There are no sharks in the water,” says a voice. It’s his father’s. They are looking out over the shale beach, the dark sea, the churning tide. Seagulls wheel and cry above them. His father says, “Do you hear me, Miles? There are no sharks in the water.”

Miles says, “Yes there are,” and the vision disappears, up, back up, back to the chair where he is not certain Eiler said ‘sharks’ or 'water’, and he is not certain of much at all, or even if the dark shadow outlined along the wall beyond his television static vision is anyone he knows, and then he is up again; another crack, this one louder; a nip of electricity at his tongue. His head is pushed back again. The palm of a hand is on his windpipe, inches above the zipper on his collar. The hume change is faster this time. He wants to beg and his jaw will not move.

“…And high again,” Eiler says. His train track forearms. Miles realizes in his peripheral that he’s sweating profusely through his jumpsuit, that it’s running down his face and dripping from the tip of his nose. “You see how this works? There’s a process here, Miles—” and the rest is drowned out by the buzzing of the hume field and the high, sharp crack of reality in his ears…

———-

[DRAVEN AGAIN]

———-

He’s holding him on the precipice of a steep cliff, dust and blue sky and noone to hear him scream. Eiler leans in.

“There is no broken masquerade, Miles,” he said, “There was no Korea. Do you hear me, Miles? You’ve been tricked. Lied to. I need you to listen to me.” A tightening around his throat. Hot tears in his eyes. “This is the best you’ll ever get, you see? There is no life for you outside of here. Now I want you to say it with me…”

A low, animal whine chokes up from his throat, thick with terror.

“Say it with me, now. 'There is no revolution because there is no broken masquerade’.”

“Please stop,” he sobs, “Please stop…”

———-

Draven wanted this to stop.

___________________________________

i wrote this one during nanowrimo. yes, miles and eiler here are modified versions of the miles and eiler in the scene above, but with different dynamics because i was just playing with stuff.

“There is no one in the cockpit,” Eiler growled. “This is an automated train.”

They were sitting at the table, a flashlight between them. The bleeding from Eiler’s temple had stopped, but they both had concluded he had a concussion after he’d pressed a hand to his forehead to check the wound, only to be hit with sharp pain and a blurred image instead of the typical biopathic visual.

“You’re saying we’re the only ones here?” Miles asked. He’d assumed there were people in other cabins, staff or something, at least someone running the train to begin with.

“I never said that,” Eiler said. “There’s one other person on board.”

“…Is she okay?” Miles asked. Eiler dug in his pocket for his cigarettes, working by the LED light.

“She should be fine. They drugged her to hell and back at the capitol, she’s on a drip and a catheter…” The flick of a lighter. Eiler had a cigarette in his mouth, now, balancing between his lips. “The hospital car has a backup generator.”

“She’s a prisoner.”

The lighter came to life, illuminating Eiler in the deep dark, creeping from the outside in in the same way sand always made it’s way inside his mother’s home. “You sound awfully surprised for someone sitting on a train going to a prison.”

“We should check on her,” Miles said. The older man took a drag on the cigarette and exhaled; with the heating shut off, the warmth of it left Miles frightened. It was colder outside here than he’d ever experienced outside at the capitol.

“More than that,” Eiler said, “we should wake her up. Pass me my cane, would you?” It was on the floor several feet away; as Miles got it, he pushed himself to his feet, visibly steadying himself on the wall.

“I don’t see why we need to wake her up. She’s a prisoner, right?” Miles handed him the cane, and Eiler balanced his cigarette back between his lips as he pulled an emergency lever, bright red and hidden in the wall beside the back door; it slid back to reveal a gangway through a storage car, loaded with crates and equipment.

“You know that blackout a few days ago?” he asked, limping over the threshold.”

Miles shuddered, remembering the bypass machine, the flickering lights, the nightmare it had been. “I do.”

“She caused it. Only perpetuator. She’s a technopath. Take the flashlight, will you?”

“Wait. She?” Miles took the flashlight and followed, walking along the narrow pathway through the storage car, following closely behind. Eiler’s cigarette glowed through the encroaching dark.

“You’re surprised by that, too? How boring is your life that you think that’s interesting?”

“Technopathy is a Y-linked gene, right? That’s why all technopaths are male—”

“—No, all technopaths you’ve met are male. The Y-linked hypothesis hasn’t been proven. The margin is skewed in the male direction, but a good quarter of technopaths are female. Probably more, seeing as technopaths are less… rigorous about everything than we are.”

“The X-linked biopathy hypothesis has been proven, though.”

“The X-linked biopathy hypothesis is wrong, too. It’s passed through the mitochondrial DNA, which is passed from the mother’s side.”

“You have no evidence for that.”

“And you do? How old are you, twelve?”

“I’m eighteen,” Miles said, shining the flashlight on the lever by the back door of the car. “and we learned both those phenomenons in medical school.”

Eiler yanked on the lever, and the next gangway door came open: the next car was medical surplus, vaccines in styrofoam containers, biohazard bags. “Rule one of the biological sciences,” he said, narrowly avoiding fluid leaking from a broken surplus of saline, “Researchers can’t make up their goddamn minds about any shit less than fifteen years old. Easier to just slap a hypothesis in a textbook, and the people who actually care will dig in and find that it’s more complicated then the goddamn lecture slides said it was.”

“And you’ve been keeping up with all this.”

“Of course. And I’m assuming you’re interested, too, since it wouldn’t be your first foray into research. Tell me, how much of agreeing to be my personal prisoner is due to the fact you heard about a freakish disease outbreak at the very prison you’d be going to?”

“That’s different.”

Miles almost ran into Eiler when he stopped to look at him, his cigarette starting to ash. “You worked at the Moray lab, right? Plague control. Dr. Wilde mentioned it.”

“I ran samples at the Moray lab. They gave me what they didn’t want to do themselves and I sat and did it. I got paid minimum wage. I was the equivalent of a dishwasher. Have you considered that I’m being sent to prison because I was sentenced to prison, but you thought that would put my training to waste?”

Eiler paused, exhaled smoke again, and turned to continue down the aisle. “Most eighteen year olds would be far more upset about going to prison, is all I’m saying.”

“So you think I’m going because I want to catch a strange disease I can die from in four days?”

“Oh, Miles,” Eiler said, “I never mentioned the disease took four days.”

Miles fell silent. Eiler smiled in the dark.

“A lot of my staff died over the summer. Most of them were too busy dying an agonizing, bloody death to be scientifically interested in what they were dying from. The way I see it, at least when it happens to you, you’ll be able to look inside yourself and tell me what’s happening.” He glanced behind him again, taking out a keyring to release a lock on the lever of the third car, “In non-pathics, the sense of hearing is the last thing to go. In pathics, it’s the sensation of casting that goes last. Might as well put it to good use. Might be a little painful though, what with the catastrophic bleeding and all. ”

The lock dropped open. The door slid away, revealing a sterile car with a tile floor and flood lights illuminating the cabin. It looked empty aside from a single gurney, midway up the left side, hung with tubes and wires. Eiler sighed.

“Alright,” he said, “let’s hope she doesn’t kill us.”

#Anonymous #man this is a lot #scp things are in the au where everyone is awful and everyone suffers so like. thats that on that #idk yall know what ur getting into at this point prob but #abuse ment /#think that probably covers all thats in there actually #draven kondraki #gears #writing #vandal.txt

5 notes · View notes