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god-complex-12 · 1 year

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Can i request, "No just...I can't believe you're wearing my clothes." And "You are my love" with Marc from Moonknight.

My Love

— Paring; Marc Spector x male reader. Fandom; Marvel/Moon Knight.

Prompt; “No, I just… I can’t believe you’re wearing my clothes.” & “You are my love.”

Description; Marc has no place to stay so he calls up the only person he truly trusts. Disclaimer; Reader and Marc are not dating. Talks of pain. Confession.

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

A/N: I changed my layout, is this better or worse? Also, I took the prompts and morphed it into a little confession story. Thank you for your request and thank you for using two of my prompts.

Y/N tiredly slumped in his office chair. His head and gaze descended to the side; looking out the floor to roof windows that took up the wall to his right. He mindlessly watched the birds flee from one rooftop to another. The sun was setting, so he couldn’t see too much. He purposely let his mind drift; trying to find any excuse to not do the pile of work on his wooden desk. His hand ached for a break, and he was gonna give it that.

Y/N zoned out at a nearby apartment balcony. The railing was laced with vines and various plants dripping down the side. A cat walked along the metal pole. He, from what he could see from the distance he was at, assumed it was a Japanese Bobtail.

Y/N’s attention was urged to his screaming phone on the desk. It rang throughout the quiet room; loudly vibrating against the desk. Y/N looked at the name: “Marcus”.

Y/N subconsciously smiled. His hand raced to the phone — answering it, and putting it to his ear. He straightened up his posture — his mood immediately brightened.

“Hey, Marcus. What do you need?” He asked cheerfully.

He heard a groan of annoyance on the other line. “It’s Marc. Not Marc as in short for Marcus: Marc as in just Marc. Stop calling me that.”

Y/N chuckled. “What do you need, Marc?” He corrected himself.

He heard the merc hesitate. “Would it be okay if I stayed at your place for tonight?” He asked.

Y/N hastily nodded. He felt stupid when he realized Marc couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I’m not home right now, but I will be. That pad code is 7294.” Y/N said.

“Thank you.” Marc thoughtfully spoke.

Y/N hummed in agreement. “Text me when you get there safe.”

“I will.” The call ended, and Y/N happily placed his phone back on his desk.

Y/N was more than motivated to get back to work now; wanting to get home as soon as possible. He wrote for another 40 minutes before the pain in his hand became unbearable. He made a notice of his leave before rushing out the building door.

—

Y/N entered his dimly lit home. The light from the lamp illuminated the main room; the yellow luminescence gave the room a warm feel. It was night time, but it wasn’t late.

“Marc?” Y/N called out. He was met with no response.

He stalked through the house, making his way to his cracked open door. He peeked into the room and saw Marc laying in his bed. Y/N pillow was enveloped in the merc’s arms. Y/N laughed quietly before heading off to the kitchen.

At the thought of food, Y/N’s stomach grumbled. He didn’t notice how hungry he actually was until now. He scourged through the cabinets for ingredients. He thought long and hard about what his guest would like. He didn’t want to cook a meal and Marc not like it.

He quickly decided, prepping the stove and utensils. He mindlessly began cooking. As he worked, he felt that growing pain circulate in his palm. He ignored it to the best of his abilities.

It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Y/N to finish cooking. He heard light footsteps behind him, and a quiet sigh.

“What’re you cooking?” The Chicago laced accent made Y/N smile.

“Hope you like hamburgers.” Y/N called out. “I don’t know what you like, so I chose a classic and hoped for the best.” He then turned to face Marc.

“Good strategy.”

Y/N’s eyes were widened in shock. He didn’t say anything, but his mouth slightly stuttered, opening and shutting in hesitation as he took in Marc’s appearance.

“What?” Marc asked the gawking man.

Y/N gestured to the man’s whole body. Marc instinctively looked at himself, and it all clicked. He was in Y/N’s clothes. Slight embarrassment flooded him as he stammered to explain himself.

“Oh, yeah, I really needed to take a shower and I didn’t have any clean clothes. I can take it off if you want.” Marc tried to reason.

“No, I just… I can’t believe you’re wearing my clothes.” Y/N said. An awkward silence enveloped the room. “Not- not in, like, a weird way, it’s just- I’m gonna shut up. What do you like on your burgers?”

“Whatever you have to offer.” Marc said hastily. He quickly sat at the kitchen island while Y/N went back to work.

When Y/N was finished, he slid both of their plates to where Marc was seated. Y/N cringed at the pain in his hand again.

“This is a big ass burger.” Marc said.

Y/N chuckled, getting both of them water. “I was hungry.” He explained. He picked up both of the glasses, and Y/N’s entire hand was overcome with pain. He dropped the glass in his dominant hand and then the class in his other to comfort his weeping hand. Both glasses shattered against the ground; shards and water painted the floor.

“Shit.” He cursed. “I’m so sorry.” He apologized

“Are you okay?” Marc asked, shooting up from his seat to assist the hurting man.

“Yeah, it’s my hand.” Y/N tried to explain.

Marc grabbed Y/N’s, hand pulling it closer to look at it. “Is it cramping?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine.” Y/N tried to take his hand back, but Marc’s hold stopped him.

“Let me help.” He began gently kneading the man’s palm.

Y/N got slightly lost in the sinsation. He wasn’t used to Marc being this close, let alone, touching him in such a caring way. He memorized the feeling. His hands were comfortingly warm but rough. His hands have been worn down.

“How does that feel?” Y/N didn’t comprehend the words. His mind was focused on the two hands clasped around his.

“Y/N?” Y/N met Marc’s eyes. He said nothing. His gaze was soft and thoughtless.

Marc’s held confusion and comfort, wondering why there wasn’t a single thought behind the man’s eyes. Marc’s hands stopped, now only holding the other’s hand. “Is your hand feeling better?”

Y/N snapped out whatever trance had a grasp on his conscience, and frantically nodded his head. “Yes, yeah. Thank you.” He pulled his hand away, stretching his hand for any pain. “That’s great. Painless. No pain. Awesome. Thank you.” He nervously rambled.

Y/N looked at the mess at his feet. “I’ll clean this up and get you a new glass.”

“I can get the drinks.” He followed where he had watched Y/N get the drinks.

“Thank you.” Y/N awkwardly mumbled as he scurried off to get the broom.

Marc carefully prepared the drinks while Y/N cleaned up his mess. He threw away all the broken pieces and sat down next to Marc.

“So why did you choose me?” Y/N asked.

“Hm?”

“Like why did you choose to stay with me? Why not a lover?”

“A lover?” Marc questioned.

“Yeah. Don’t you have a lover?”

“Y/N, you are my love. You’re everything I got. I needed a place to stay, I can’t go home just yet.” Marc explained.

“I’m sorry. What was that first part?” Y/N questioned.

“‘You are my love’?”

Y/N grinned. “Marcus, you dog. Are you confessing to me?”

Marc gave Y/N a shocked look. “I thought I made it obvious! I don’t just massage random people’s hands.”

“You’re not very good at showing it. Marc, you do realize, you’re a very closed off person. Via physical and mental emotions. It’s hard for people to read you, which, granted, could be a good thing if I were your enemy.” Y/N said with a chuckle.

Marc chuckled along with him. “Yeah. I guess, I didn’t think about that.” Marc stopped for a moment. “So did I just out myself?”

“Yeah, a little bit, but that's okay because, in the great words of you, ‘you are my love’ too.” Y/N said. “I don’t just let any random person massage my hand.” He joked.

Marc chuckled. “Well, what does that make of us?”

“How about we go on a few dates and then we decide?”

Marc nodded. “Can this be the first one?”

“If you want.”

“Do you think we could end this date with a kiss?”

Y/N chuckled. “I’ve never seen you act like this.”

“Is that a ‘no’?”

Y/N’s hand grabbed the side of Marc’s neck, making him look at him. Y/N shook his head before pulling Marc for a kiss.

“I could never say ‘no’ to that.”

—

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 7 months

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Man. How did I forget that an entire subplot of Dazai's main story was just. Trying to trap him into having a single conversation with MC like a normal person I'm so akhdjgfkljshgskjd

I just love watching her, Arthur, and Isaac deadass plot with glee to get one over on Dazai it's killing me, this is some Hamlet level shit (no Charles do not stand behind the curtain to kill Dazai coming in the window!!! yamero!!!!!)

Also because I felt personally attacked (/j) when Isaac said this:

I love you Isaac but pls have mercy on creatives we only have one brain cell and we're trying s o hard oTL

Although, and I'll leave it under the cut since I'm back on my Comte-posting, but the way Comte talks about Dazai fascinates me. Also just as fair warning, I do broach a lot of the topics that come up in Dazai rt so trigger warnings for self-harm, suicide, CPTSD and PTSD, trauma, etc. I don't go too too in-depth, but they are there.

Comte: "Dazai is quite skilled at concealing what he's really feeling, even from himself, perhaps."

The way he instantly remarks on how Dazai is not only working to conceal what he feels from others, but also from himself. Tbh I think that's enormously perceptive, because at first glance most people tend to think Dazai is lazy, troublesome, flippant, or erratic (and sometimes, a combination of all of these).

I love that he sees to the core of who Dazai is and what he's feeling; fear. Dazai is afraid of hurting someone again, but I also think on some level he's made it an ontological problem; he's afraid of himself. He thinks his very existence is a negative entity, something that exists only to hurt and/or estrange other people, something wrong/different. I'd argue that's why he's so adamant about mood-making and keeping to himself. If you never express how you truly feel or live true to yourself, on some level you can't entirely reach others. Because fundamentally, being close to other people does require some level of lowered defenses and sharing. Ergo, never dwell too long or give too much of yourself away, never make a mark on anyone--good or bad.

As a side note, Theo calls him "a half-strewn dandelion puff" and I agree that's rather blunt, but on some level Theo operates on a level of utility. His entire operating precept is that life and work must serve a discrete purpose. And Dazai, in choosing to opt out of living with meaning/intent out of fear, makes this description entirely consistent with Theo's perspective of the world. Though his phrasing is harsh and perhaps one-dimensional, I do find it interesting that he comes to a similar conclusion as Comte as to what Dazai is doing.

Comte talks about it with such clarity and calm, he really does feel so parental in this moment. He's not necessarily minimizing the reality of how Dazai is experiencing the world, but he also clearly doesn't agree with Dazai's self-perception. Perhaps most striking to me is how Comte seems to understand that the only threat Dazai poses is to himself...Sometimes it feels like, in the case of conditions like mental illness/depression/etc. people are so eager to assume ill will of a person. This is only exponentially compounded if they prove to have striking intelligence and strategic capacity, the same way Dazai does. I guess I can't help but appreciate that Comte knows the difference between strong and scared, and even how the lines between the two can and often do blur (perhaps best exemplified in his relationships with Jeanne and Dazai).

(Side note: I forgot which event it was but, one time when Dazai was homesick for cherry blossom watching, Comte had the entire house filled with flowers to cheer him up [insert ugly sobbing]).

For someone so enigmatic, evasive, and distant, Comte still notices instantly that Dazai is much, much happier with MC. I suppose it makes me wonder if Comte knew all along that Dazai's real wish was to be accepted and loved as he was, but kept quiet out of respect for his privacy. I would offer too that sometimes people need to realize these things on their own for the information to have value.

But what really gets my ass is what Comte says right after:

This is my bread and butter (so is he but that's not the point of this particular TED talk). In the last few years I've done a lot of exploratory work on how trauma is mapped both internally but also visibly on the body. What I think is engaging here is that, while it could be read on a surface level as "body language gives people's true intentions away" I don't think that's quite what he's getting at. Or perhaps better phrased, it's an oversimplification. I don't think it's that body language can't communicate real and important information about people's lives. Rather, that people associate rigid and absolutist interpretations to singular mannerisms, which does a disservice to both parties. Nobody can know a person at a glance; to say that you do reduces the lived reality of the opposite party.

Comte gives simple examples and couches his words for the context of the moment, but I think that first line is incredibly telling. "But the body is remarkably truthful." It makes me think of how, in moments where Comte is overcome with anxiety as a result of traumatic recurrence, he has acute panic attacks (i.e. shortened breath, racing heart, trembling). How Leonardo's lethargy (i.e. napping on the floor everywhere like the hobo he is) belies the reality of his very real exhaustion, the emotional turmoil that comes with a fraught immortal life.

Dazai's endless struggle with dissociation and self-harm, the way he stood in the rain unmoving at the thought of MC returning home to the modern era. Whether to numb himself from the pain of that grief/loneliness, or perhaps more likely the self-immolation of subjecting himself to the re-enactment of the most harrowing moment of his life. To relive that anguish as a reminder; to abstain from making the same mistake ever again. Jeanne's endless bodily tension, struggles with basic self-care (appears to be interoception-based; reduced signalling of the need to eat/rest/etc.), and self-isolation to cope in a world where only the strong survive. Never safe, always alone, always defensive.

I think, for many people in general but especially people who have been through intense PTSD/CPTSD/etc., it can be hard to express these feelings directly. Whether they are forcibly silenced, ridiculed into self-derision/self-concealment, or are overwhelmed by emotions that are difficult to process--each manifests itself in unconventional ways. It means a lot to me when those phenomena are portrayed so sensitively in written works/media, that they're explored with real intention and narrative subtlety to communicate how hard it is for people who are wounded or simply different (or both, as often is the case).

Addendum:

Even more than that, and this is an observation at the end of Dazai's route, is Comte's open belief that life is something to be cherished. Of course, like any other person he has behaviors he won't abide and people he doesn't feel partial to, but by and large he doesn't take life lightly. Perhaps that's why he doesn't expect Dazai to resort to such measures again, in conjunction with the circumstances of his transition. From an outsider perspective, I could see how Comte might assume Dazai no longer wishes for that if he seemed to regret his initial course of action by seeking resurrection. There is also the implication that Dazai is always at war with himself, and therefore might give contradictory impressions; one moment he wants to live, the next he doesn't. This is precisely what led him to ask Charles for help to subdue his own 'cowardice.' (His terms, not mine. [bonks him]) There is a sizeable subset of s-word survivors who, after recovery, feel that their problems were actually solvable despite their despair in the moment.

Of course, that doesn't apply to everyone, but I think there's something to be said of Comte feeling such real affection for the mansion boys that he is stricken to find out what Dazai attempted. And perhaps unsurprisingly, very adamant to keep him from ever pursuing such a course of action again. He's incredibly vulnerable about his horror that he might have inflicted something on Dazai that he never wanted in bringing him back, though Dazai comfortably refutes any lack of agency in the situation.

I guess I feel very compelled by the duality inherent in Comte's glass heart, precisely because of how realistic it feels. His greatest strength is his sensitivity, but it's also his greatest weakness in tandem. His genuine care for Dazai--the unwavering belief that his life is valuable and worthy--ends up being the reason he doesn't anticipate Dazai's rather deeply entrenched self-loathing. And to be honest, I'm a bit inclined to agree; looking back on a third reading Dazai feels way too hard on himself. It feels like the young girl's death was more a catalyst for what Dazai was already feeling, than anything. Dazai wanted so badly to have a reason to despise himself (as he already disliked how different and out of place he naturally felt) and with this, his self-reproach could have a viable, rational explanation. A locus outside of his body by which to rationalize his self-hatred. Accident or not becomes irrelevant; he was involved, and thus he is guilty.

He reminds me a lot of that post that was circulating once about how cultish behavior inculcates intelligent people with more devastating pull than one might expect, because intelligent people can more easily and more insistently find ways to desperately rationalize their situation to function in that whirlpool of abuse. Dazai feels like he's in this same such Catch-22, so busy believing he deserves to be scorned (because of how well he hides his perceived abnormalities) that he takes steps to ensure and reinforce it. He wants and needs to see his reality make sense, and if it won't answer his designs he will find a way to make it so.

It fascinates me because Dazai is an incredibly complex example of someone who desires control, but instead of inflicting it with external rapacity, he targets his own internal state. I once heard a Buddhist explain: yes, it is a sign of disturbance to engage with others aggressively and without grace. However, it is also a sign of disturbance when the mind seeks to harm one's own body. Although Dazai's disturbance is not as apparent, it is there. And that's part of what makes him so excruciatingly compelling to me, in a lot of ways he is the manifestation of the Sisyphean suffering of being ill in a quiet way. In enduring and smiling and laughing because you don't want to burden others--or know you're not allowed to--all while you slowly bleed from the inside out.

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp comte #ikevamp theo #ikevamp meta #i love how isaac straight up is like #'man now that you mention it he hasn't been harassing me either'#I S A A C 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣#the way i can't stop laughing. and. AND he really said #'omfg...Dazai writes!? on god????? fr??????'#ICE COLD #ISAAC I SWEAR TO GOD NOBODY ACKNOWLEDGES UR SENSE OF HUMOR ENOUGH AND THAT INCLUDES ME #I BEG UR FORGIVENESS APPLE KING #also is it wrong that like #one side of me is entirely capable of acknowledging the gravity of the situation but the other just #is so close to losing it when MC asks Dazai what his writing is abt #and he unironically says 'the death of a clown'#truly gen z would have loved him its tragic he's not here with us #dazai main story route #minnie mumbles #also 🥺 the way comte spoke of him so fondly #my heart is so tender...#i really do love how sincerely he sees his children for who they are #i also love that no matter how much dazai thinks he's unworthy comte never thinks the same T_T #I routinely cry about that scene at the end where he's like '💢young man you better not do anything like that a g a i n.'#tw suicide #tw self-harm #tw suicidal ideation

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