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obae-me · 5 years ago

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Tail Wagging Wing Flapping Fun

This idea is thanks to @astaroth1357 ! It’s a short guide on how to influence their demon forms to do something...embarrassingly cute. I write this fluff with no regrets. Enjoy.

Sure, it might be a bit disconcerting at first getting used to the sight of humanoid creatures having unusual things like horns and wings and tails (oh my), but it comes with a benefit. While their words and demeanor might suggest otherwise, their demon forms might involuntarily reveal some of their hidden feelings--or not so hidden feelings. Your new mission, should you choose to accept it, is to figure out what sort of scenario sets off these uncontrollable actions. Let’s get some tails wagging and wings flapping, shall we?

Note: Difficulty ranges from 7 being the most difficult and 1 being the easiest.

Extra Note: Seems the brothers happened to come across this guide, hopefully they didn’t mess with it...

Lucifer

Difficulty: (7/7)

Hands down, this man is the hardest one to get a reaction out of seeing as he is always aware of how he is perceived, probably due to that prideful nature of his. Not to mention, he’s only ever in his demon form on rare occasions such as parties or political events. Or, most often, if he needs to use it for intimidation, and you’d rather not get a good look at his wings when he’s ready to obliterate someone or yourself for that matter. So, it goes without saying that this might take some planning or some timely good luck. Perhaps begging if you’re not above it.

When to do it: Your best chance of success is to catch him when he’s either distracted, so sleep deprived he can’t even see straight, or just flat out drunk. If you choose the first option, chances are, once he’s back in his own head he’ll recall the event and make a mental note to never do it again. With the second, he’ll be at the point where he can no longer care as long as he can get his work done, but then there’s the more likely scenario where he’ll decide to kick you out entirely so he can focus. Lastly, if he’s drunk, not only will this be super effective, but he’ll cuddle you all night long. He might not even remember every embarrassing thing he did the following morning--which never happens, just for everyone’s information. Even in an intoxicated state, he’s in complete control with no embarrassing moments to speak of--Anyway, this is your best choice, but even then he only gets really drunk when he’s with Diavolo, not to mention refraining from coming home until the late...very late hours of the night when he knows no one will be awake to watch him stumble to his room. So, you’ll have to be diligent. Maybe take a nap.

How to do it: You might think it would be praise, him being Pride and all, but Lucifer knows after so many years that words can often be hollow. Compliments and sugar-coated phrases are mostly used as a means of manipulation or getting something in return. Don’t get him wrong, he does like them, might even give you a slight smile and a pleased hum if you tell him how stunning he is, but he will know you probably expect something in exchange. So, for him, the best way to get his wings aflutter is to do something for him. Actions speak much louder than words and are much more precious to him, especially if you do so unprovoked. Make him some tea! Bring him food in bed! Dust his record collection! Sweep the floor in his study! The list can go on, it’s all up to you to decide what to do, but make sure he knows it's for him. He likes to be pampered--I mean, served.

What happens: It will take him a moment to register. He’s not used to someone doing something for him so freely before. As a punishment, sure, but of your own volition? You did look expecting, no matter how hard you tried to hide it, but the only thing you were anticipating was his happiness and reaction, nothing else. The wings against his back have no choice but to twitch and shift, and he notices you eyeing them each time they move. As they fluttered, you beamed, and all he could do was roll his shoulders to try and keep the infernal things tucked against his back. The more you smiled, the more they were restless, feathers falling from their place as they twitched with emotion, threatening to wrap around you, to shield you, to envelop you, all like he was a hen protecting a baby chick. Depending on how weakened he is, or how much he cares for you, he might do more than just some shifting wings. He does his best to control himself, he really does, but the joy and warmth flooding his body from all his affection for you can make him do the unthinkable. His entire body will shutter, shaking and rattling him like a wet dog. His wings will jut out from his back, quivering in the air. When all is said and done, the black feathers coating his wings are extremely puffed up, a stunned and embarrassed expression hidden behind his new unruly and disheveled countenance.

Mammon

Difficulty: (1/7)

If Lucifer is the hardest, Mammon rolls in as the easiest to get a reaction from. He’s very expressive in everything he does, and his demon form doesn’t change that. If it’s not gambling, he has no desire to keep himself under control, and he’s very much an ‘actions now, thinking later’ type of demon. In fact, when you’re around it nearly ends up worsening, he ends up being so flustered and distracted he’s usually unaware of the things he does or says, which gets him in a lot of trouble. However, because of this, it’s so easy to get him to do all the cute things you want.

When to do it: Honestly, it does not matter. The only things required are himself and you in the same place, and the two of you are already basically attached at the hip. Truth be told, you don’t even need to be near him to get him sheepish, but that’s a secret he tries to keep to himself. You two could be alone in your bedroom, out for a walk in the garden, in Diavolo’s castle, even in the back parking lot of a cheap run-down restaurant. It is not important to him. As long as he has you, anywhere is a party. Public? Private? No matter. Either way his brothers will find out and tease him about it. Getting him in demon form isn’t an issue either. He’ll transform at the drop of a hat if you asked him too.

How to do it: Much like Lucifer, the most obvious answer is incorrect. You can buy Mammon all the stuff in the world, but his Greed will still want more. Besides, that’s all anyone expects him to enjoy anyway. Everyone thinks just giving him money or gifts will make everything better, but he’s more complex than that! Well, it kinda does make him feel happier, but--oi, that’s not the point, we’re supposed to be gettin’ deep here!--What will really make him melt for you is compliments. This demon loves to be praised, because it doesn’t happen often. Why? Cus he’ll get a big head about it, but that’s Lucifer’s problem, not yours. Tell him how proud you are of him. Let him know how handsome he looks. Assure him you know he’s smart, and how much you look up to him. Tell him how grateful you are that he’s your ‘first’. It’ll get to him instantly and fuel his self esteem for weeks.

What happens: The skin stretched over his wings will contract, causing his wings to fold into themselves only to burst open again. It’s this strange sort of flapping motion that reminds you of an umbrella opening and closing. Mammon won’t even notice, not until you gush over it. After that, he’ll be so flustered by his involuntary movements that he’ll try to chase his own wings, circling around on his feet while cursing. He’ll do his best to keep them hidden from you behind his back, but you can still hear the fluttering. Pretending like he didn’t hear you, he’ll attempt to get you to repeat what you said. This is your chance to take things to the second stage. If you bombard him with enough sweet words, he’ll have no choice but to bounce from foot to foot, shifting the weight on his feet as joy floods his body. The wings attached to his back will then waggle up and down, waving themselves in the air. You’ll be permitted to watch this for a while before realization dawns on him and he goes back to manhandling his blasted demon form. At one point he managed to grab one of them with his mouth and growled even. You have it on video.

Levi

Difficulty: (2/7)

The second easiest. Just above Mammon in difficulty due to the fact that he’s in his room all the time and does his best to get himself out of humiliating situations. However, he’s truly an open book, and an emotional one at that, which is why he and Mammon tend to butt heads so often. They’re more alike than either of them will ever admit--w-which is not at all! How anyone could--could see similarities between Levi-chan and stupidmammon is ridiculous!--Similar or not, you could simply look in Levi’s direction and he would blush, and so of course when he’s in his demon form, there will be no hiding his emotions there either.

When to do it: It will have to be in his room, it’s his safe space and so he’ll be more open to expressing himself when he’s in his sanctuary. There’s no real way around this. It will have to be a good day, so try to prepare by keeping his meddlesome brothers away. Keep an eye on how much internet they’re all using, and then try to monitor them so they’ll use less, making Levi’s loading times effortless. Let Levi know in advance that you want to hang out, that way he can get his mental state in check! This should be good enough to influence a happy tail-wagging Levi for when he permits you to enter his room.

How to do it: Safety and comfort are the name of the game. Let him do whatever he wants and don’t make fun of him for it. It’s hard for him to be passionate about the things he truly enjoys without his brothers picking it apart or ruining it altogether. Let him speak. Be patient with him as he tries to string together a coherent plot with fragmented statements like “Oh, but there was also when-”, or “Oh, and how could I forget this happened! I’ll need to go back a bit!” If he ever says sorry, assure him there’s nothing to worry about. You don’t necessarily have to be interested in the things he likes, but if you listen to him and let him feel safe enough to be vulnerable, you’ll have him in the palm of your hand.

What happens: It will happen the longer he rambles. His tail will start to slowly sway across the floor, the gentle sheer sound of smooth scales brushing across smooth tile. The more he feels safe around you, the more traction the tail will get, happily snaking back and forth as the glint of light off his scales reflect back on the ceiling. Of course, you can’t help but stare, which he notices. He’ll grab his tail in his arms, preventing it from moving as best as he could while being a mortified mess. Although you can still see the tip of it twitching, rattling, and quivering. If you comfort him in knowing you aren’t there to make fun of him, that you think it’s actually sweet and cute he feels that protected around you, he’ll let his tail drop to the floor. Only because his hands are now being used to cover his blushing face. The pounding in his chest is drowned out by the intense thumping of his tail against the floor. At one point you managed to pet it and could’ve sworn you saw Levi’s tongue dart out of his mouth, but Levi denies it ever happened.

Satan

Difficulty: (6/7)

Right under Lucifer as the second most difficult to provoke a physical reaction from. He’s spent millennia doing his best to keep his wrath under control, so controlling other emotions is even easier for him. Although, he’s second in difficulty only because he doesn’t care as much for appearances as Lucifer does. I mean, if his attire is anything to prove--I mean, of course Satan is the bigger man in this aspect, truly. It’s foolish to be so caught up in how you look to other people. He’s not that vain, so if anything, he’s better than his brother. Your main worry is being able to see these emotions in his demon form. Demon form usually equals violence in Satan’s case. Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that.

When to do it: Make sure it’s a day he’s calm, obviously. Ideally, you’ll both be in a quiet place like his room or the library. If you can, make sure it’s a day where there are no distractions and no noise, which in the House of Lamentation unfortunately only comes by once every century. So, if that means paying Mammon to go on a little shopping spree, making Asmo go with him since coincidently he’s run out of his favorite perfume that you totally didn't use for this excuse, informing Beel that there’s a special going on today of his favorite snacks, bribing Belphie to go along since he’s about to get the show of a lifetime, and then ‘accidently’ letting Lucifer know Mammon stole his credit card, well then, that’s what you’re going to have to do to get some peace (sorry Mammon). Just pulling that off alone will get you some extra brownie points with Satan.

How to do it: Be inquisitive! Ask him about anything, and it’s likely he’ll know the answer. In fact, he’s almost amused when you treat it like a game, quizzing him about any obscure and specific topic and seeing what he knows of it. If there happens to be something the two of you are unsure of, he’ll find the book and you’ll both learn together. In return, he’ll have you talk about the human world, about cultures, about topics you’re interested in. Asking questions is your ticket into getting him into demon form as well. If you simply tell him you’re dying to get a closer look at demon features because you’re so fascinated, he’ll be inclined to transform for you. Satan encourages and rewards curiosity. Of course he knows your plan already, but all your efforts just because you were eager to note how his demon form would react? Well, he’s willing to give in just to observe your feedback as well. It’s also worth noting that bringing up Lucifer in the conversation will immediately ruin your plans. Satan wants to feel special, so give him your full attention!

What happens: You had to first coax the tail he so often kept wrapped around his leg to come loose. Once it did, it enjoyed flicking itself back and forth every so often when he was amused, the end curling up and down when you said something particularly enjoyable. They were small simple gestures, but you wondered if you could draw out more. You threw out a sudden ‘psst psst psst’ like one might do to a cat. His tail shot up straight in the air before he glared at you, albeit with a slight smirk. With a new playful expression on his face, his tail whipped back and forth harder, sharper, convincing you that he might pounce were you not careful. Although, he still seems very aware of his movements, which defeated the purpose of the involuntary aspect. So, acting like there was something on his face, you stepped over. You struck by scratching the underside of his chin. His entire tail quivered, trembling, the bony skeleton-like structure of his tail rattled. Pushing you away, he’ll marvel at his own demon form which seemed to have a new mind of its own. It tucked itself between his legs for a few seconds after the initial embarrassment, then continued to shiver and shake anytime he looked at you. This is exactly why he keeps it wrapped around his leg in the first place.

Asmo

Difficulty: (4/7)

Amso is another expressive individual, in fact almost more so than Mammon. However, Asmo is a master of the body, and is absolutely aware of how he moves and acts in front of other people. Every movement he makes is completely intentional, it adds to his charm, to his popularity. Every eye flutter, every finger curl, it’s all purposeful. He can’t accidently slip up in his body language! Who do you think he is? He can’t afford to do anything embarrassing, it’ll ruin his reputation. However if you get him alone--not like that, this is a wholesome guide--he might not have to worry about his image so much.

When to do it: This part isn’t hard, just tell him you want to spend time with him, in private. After thoroughly getting it across to him that, no, it’s not as dirty as he’s making it out to be, he’ll still be happy to squirrel you away for himself. His brothers are running you ragged, they’re such brutes. He’ll make sure to take good care of you...Sometimes you wonder if he can’t control the way his suggestions sound. Perhaps interest him in the idea of a self care day. He’ll be more than happy to paint your nails, style your hair, whatever you feel comfortable doing. You might have to continuously lead him away from the idea of letting him bathe you, but he truly just wants to treat you. However, the more you spend time alone together, the more he acts a bit more like himself. When he’s around you and not in the public eye, he can let himself relax a little, instead of always needing to live up to those social expectations.

How to do it: This is the trickier part. As Asmo is the demon of lust and a certified social media star, he gets compliments daily, several gifts from potential lovers, and all the physical touch he could ever need. At a glance, he gets enough attention than any one person should ever need. However, he secretly craves quality time together, and no not like what you’re thinking--Unless you want it to be, and then he’ll happily oblige~-- He needs time to destress, to wind down, to spend time with someone who doesn’t care if he’s perfect all the time. Make him feel comfortable in his own skin, and I don’t care what he says, because there’s a hidden part of him that isn’t. So sit him down for a movie night, convince him to take off his makeup. Let him relax in his demon form since not only is it truly him, but you’ll need it for your plan. Brush his hair while he tells you about his day. Get him away from social media as best you can so he can “detox”, making sure it’s simply you and him. He doesn’t need Likes to be Asmo, he doesn’t need to be perfect to be worth it.

What happens: He will act like he has no idea what you’re talking about for sure. Imperfections? He doesn’t know them. Truly he’s not so insecure as you think he is? Like Levi? Please...But your words have gotten through to him. The soft actions and...chaste time together that you’ve shown him throw him for a little loop. It’s like aftercare but...all the time with you. His wings can’t quite contract like Lucifer’s or Mammon’s, so they just bob up and down, flapping occasionally which messes up his hair. He looks on in confusion. Since when had he been so focused on you that he forgot how to present himself? It drives him insane, how embarrassing! And of course, the more you convince him he has nothing to be worried about, how it’s actually adorable, the more flustered he gets. You always knew how to compliment with no other motives. Instead of a wagging motion, his wings will move from side to side, hitting against each other. It sounds like light clapping. Asmo hates how his wings move like this, striking against each other when he’s pleased. He’s worked so hard on controlling it, and now he’s doing it in front of you. He’s immediately going to go hide, but it doesn’t prevent you from hearing the adorable sound of tapping.

Beel

Difficulty: (3/7)

The third easiest demon to get those special demon form movements from. He really cares for you, like a lot, and he’s the only one who isn’t afraid to say it and show it. In fact, the only reason why he isn’t ringing up at number one is due to the fact that he’s not overly flustered by his movements, he’s doing them on purpose to show you he cares, which is kinda what you’re going for here. Getting a reaction out of him without him being in full control is going to be a little bit harder, which is why he’s coming after Mammon and Levi. You want to catch him off guard, making him do things he wouldn’t normally do.

When to do it: You don’t have to try to sneak and lie and trick him into doing anything. He’s not worried about a ruined image or anything like that. Just make a day to spend time with Beel, tell him you’re bringing snacks, and tell him it would make you the happiest human in the Devildom to have him be in his demon form. That’s all you have to do, Beel loves your honesty, it lets him know you trust him and in return he trusts you. Super easy.

How to do it: Bringing him food will definitely achieve putting a smile on his face and getting him in a better move, but it won’t bring out the soft side of him, and you want maximum softness. Beel is always taking care of his brothers, being the backup when Lucifer cannot, and just generally doing his best to keep the peace in the family. He’s the big strong bodyguard, the protector. So, to really throw him for a loop, to make him act beside himself, you’re going to protect this boy. Let him feel small even though it’s physically impossible with how large he is, especially in demon form. Let him be weak and vulnerable and safe in your arms even if they’re half the size of Beel’s. Give him snacks, make him sit on the floor and tilt his head back into your lap. You can try to have him sit in your lap-- Just be careful, the last thing he wants is to hurt you, seeing as how you’re so fragile…--He rarely ever drops his guard, so it’s a nice change of pace for him. Plus, he finds it absolutely adorable trying to be his protector, attempting to act three times your size. But he truly appreciates what you’re going for, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.

What happens: You’re able to hear the deep buzz of his wings as they flutter against his back. He frowns, immediately causing the noise to halt. He still doesn’t particularly care for these new ones compared to his older ones. However, the pleased look on your face along with glimmering eyes causes a touch of pink to grace his cheeks. Alright, he can’t deny you what you want. So he lets his wings do what they want. They vibrate intensely, a small whirlwind kicking up in your bedroom, the buzz turning into a deep hum. Your eyes go wide, at least until the intense winds almost knock you to your feet. Then the air stops and you’re wrapped up in his arms. You have to squirm out of his arms to prevent him from becoming the shield again. He’ll try to tell you that he’s not cute, so persuade him he is. Sometimes he wishes he had wings like Lucifer’s so he could wrap you up in them, but he supposes his arms will have to suffice. Every so often now, he lets his wings buzz for you, grateful you accept him for who he is. Unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, he always goes back to being the one protecting you. Although, every so often now he’ll come to you to feel safe.

Belphie

Difficulty: (5/7)

The demon of sloth is far too lazy to even walk most of the time much less moving his tail. A lot of times, when he is in his demon form, it ends up dragging itself across the floor. Not to mention he’s got a nearly indestructible emotion wall built up around him in the form of apathy and a bit of bratiness. Getting him to become so physically and emotionally moved by you to lose control of himself is going to take some work.

When to do it: He’s asleep during the day mostly, so if you attempt to do it during normal hours, you’ll need to have a crazy amount of luck. So, it’s suggested you approach this demon at night, very late at night. So late, you know you’ll have regrets in the morning, or hopefully no regrets if you manage to pull this off. It will have to be past curfew, because if there’s anything Belphie loves more than sleeping, it’s opposing Lucifer. Get him alone where the sky is full of stars and the house is plunged into slumber.

How to do it: Let him feel validated. Of course, there’s a lot of...grey area around him for some things, but in the here and now, just listen to what he has to say. He has seven older siblings, it’s easy for his voice to get lost in the clamor. Maybe if someone had just listened to his woes before taking action, things wouldn’t have gone the way they did. And, he did spend a lot of time alone, where he wasted countless nights hoping someone would just talk to him. So he appreciates how you can sit there, staying quiet--which nearly every one of his dumb brothers seems to be incapable of except his twin--letting him be heard. Who knows, if you feel vulnerable enough to share some of your deeper problems, he’ll find a newfound respect for you. There’s something about being able to relate to someone, to be able to spend hours just going back and forth where each party just makes them feel accepted. Of course, he’ll act like it’s no big deal, that this isn’t special, that this means nothing to him.

What happens: It’s slow, like almost everything about him. But, you can see his tail lift itself up off the ground, the end curling. It likes to slowly sway, the furry end gently dangling back and forth in a soothing motion, like it was being blown by the wind. That’s all you can really get out of him, since anything more would be too much effort. It’s very subtle, but you notice every detail. Like most things about him, it makes you sleepy somehow, the placid rocking motion. It takes a very long time till he realizes what he’s done. Then his tail will hit the ground with a faint thud. If you ignore it long enough, out of the corner of your eye, you’ll watch it drift back and forth against the ground, a barely noticeable pink hue to Belphie’s cheeks. The more you look away, the more it’ll curl around to where you’re sitting, making the demon of sloth blink, attempting to tug his tail back away from you. It’ll crawl back, moving so slowly you can’t notice the changes anymore, but he does, and he can’t tell why it keeps trying to protect you from behind. Oh well. Best to not think about it. Right?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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kolachess · 4 years ago

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DMBJ Names and Honorifics Explained - Don’t trust the subs!

I’ve no idea if someone has already made such a post, but I really like explaining Chinese as it’s also good practice for me, so here we go.

If you are a non-Chinese speaker, you might have noticed inconsistencies in subs when referring to all the different characters. And / or that the names don’t seem to match up to the sound of the name.

So here’s a little cultural and character guide to understanding DMBJ names.

Why are there so many names, nicknames, and honorifics for one person in a Chinese drama? To chalk this all up to nicknames is... grossly over-simplifying things. The thing with names / honorifics is very rooted in Chinese culture itself. Chinese culture is one heavily indexed on relations and hierarchy, so depending on your place in the ‘hierarchy’, whether it’s society or family, you will refer to each other as different things. As an example to illustrate complexity, where in English, ‘uncle’ refers to all male siblings of either of your parents, in Chinese, your father’s younger brother is addressed differently from your father’s older brother and also different from your mother’s brother.

Chinese names and translation to English - Space? No space? Hyphens? Last name first?

So Chinese is a pictographic language. Each ‘character’ is one word, and one syllable exactly. Hence, you don’t need spaces or hyphens or anything in Chinese. Spaces and hyphens when romanized are purely for English speakers’ convenience.

For example, in Chinese, the names would be written as wuxie, wusanxing, wangpangzi, etc. (And no such thing as capitalization either.) As a general rule of thumb, because for documentation purposes, the surname is separated out, Chinese people generally end up writing the given name all smushed together even if they are 2 words.

And yes, the surname always goes first. Other way is just... weird. Never happens.

Can you space out two words of a given name? Sure I suppose. Probably less seen.

As for hyphens with honorifics... sure? I’m not sure if smush together or hyphen is more official actually...

What are Chinese names? How do people pick a name?

Unlike English names, Chinese people compose their names. Which means... you can have anything from names that have literary eloquence and deeper meaning，like ‘Wu Xie’, where ‘Wu’ is homonymous with ‘Without’ and ‘Xie’ means ‘Evil’, so Wu Xie’s name carries the meaning of ‘no evil’...

...to names that have little to no deep meaning and sometimes downright stupid sounding, like ‘Wang Pangzi’ which does indeed translate to Wang Fatty lol.

That’s why if you ask Chinese people to provide common Chinese names, they’ll stare at you blankly. Of course, that’s not to say there aren’t some popular names, given people sometimes name themselves after famous people and there are plenty of generic ones as well.

But this is also why, when meeting for the first time, you might hear a lot of people explaining how their name is written (i.e. with which word), because there are a looooot of homonymous words and it’s impossible to tell how write someone’s name without them ‘spelling it out’.

How do Chinese people call each other by name?

Most Chinese names (surname + given name) will form 2-3 syllables (very rarely there will be 4).

General rule of thumb:

- Using someone’s full name is always generally acceptable (not to be confused with addressing them... that’s a whole different game).

- You never refer to someone with one syllable. Which means if their given name is only one syllable, you pretty much always say both surname + given name together (Hence why Wu Xie is always Wu Xie and never ‘Xie’). If their given name is two syllables, you might call them by given name only if you’re familiar.

Of course, there are tons of ways to give people nicknames (more explanation below), so you might end up only using one syllable of someone’s name, but in conjunction with another prefix / suffix of sorts.

So yes, the subs say ‘Zhang’ for Zhang Qiling but that’s BS no one has ever referred to him as simply ‘Zhang’. And for that matter, no one ever refers to him as simply Qiling either, though that’s more out of habit than any rules of names. And finally, they rarely refer to him as Zhang Qiling at all... more explanation below.

Basic ‘prefix’ / ‘suffix’ / ‘honorific’ introductions relevant for DMBJ

These aren’t really prefixes and suffixes and honorifics. They’re simply words. But for sake of simplicity, let’s just treat them as that.

-ye (sounds like ‘yeah’) = ‘Grandpa’ of the generic ‘old man’ sense, but also ‘master’ or ‘lord’ to indicate status / respect.

Example usage: Wu Sanxing (Wu Xie’s third uncle) - People like Pan Zi call him Sanye, which means ‘Third Master’.

It can also be casually used by someone to refer to themselves in third person and indicate their ‘prowess’. Again, due to Chinese cultural relations, there’s a lot of emphasis on hierarchy, so people often humorously refer to themselves in third person with a title of more seniority (’this ancestor’ or ‘this old miss’).

Example usage: Pangzi always referring to himself as Pangye. ‘Make way, Pangye is coming in clutch with the bombs!’.

-shu (sounds more like ‘soo’) = ‘Uncle’. This can be an uncle related, or not.

Example usage: Wu Sanxing (Wu Xie’s third uncle). Wu Xie and his peers will generally call him Sanshu, because they’re of the same generation and need to call Sanshu with some level of respect. Of course, Sanye is also respectful, so certainly Pangzi can call him Sanye. But Pangzi calling him Wu Sanxing would be disrespectful. (Zhang Qiling on the other hand, technically can call him whatever since he’s the oldest haha).

-ayi (sounds like ‘ah-yee’) = ‘Aunt’. Similar as uncle.

Example usage: Chen Wenjing (in Ultimate Note, Sanshu’s former girlfriend). You’ll notice Wu Xie addressed her as Wenjing-ayi. Of course, since she was a bit less familiar with them, and wasn’t always around, he and others will refer to her as simply Chen Wenjing... it’s complicated. The nuances of when it’s ok to leave off the suffix is an art form lol.

-ge (sounds like ‘guh’) = ‘older brother’. Can also be related or not. Can be used alone, or doubled up (which tends to be cuter).

Example usage: Huo Xiuxiu refers to Wu Xie as ‘Wu Xie-gege’ and Xie Yuchen as ‘Xiao Hua-gege’. Pangzi told Yun Cai (the girl he crushed on) to call him ‘Pangge’. And yes! This is the ‘ge’ in Xiaoge. More explanation below.

Xiao (sounds like ‘shall’) = ‘Small’ or ‘Little’. This is often used in creating a nickname and used first before a name.

Example usage: Wu Xie’s second uncle will refer to him as ‘Xiao Xie’. Wu Xie refers to Xie Yuchen as ‘Xiao Hua’, which translates to ‘Little Flower’ and is a nickname based off his stage name, Jie Yuhua. And yes! This is the ‘xiao’ in Xiaoge. More explanation below (because translating it as ‘little older brother’ makes no sense I know).

Lao (sounds like ‘lao’ lol) = ‘Old’. Similar usage as ‘xiao’.

Example usage: I think I remember Granny Huo perhaps referring to Wu Laogou (Wu Xie’s grandfather) as ‘Lao Wu’? But also, yes, his actual name has that word too.

Numbers - Numbers are very commonly used in nicknames.

Er (sounds like ‘are’) = Two / Second.

San (sounds like ‘san’ lol idk) = Three / Third.

Hence why Wu Xie refers to his uncles as ‘Sanshu’ and ‘Ershu’. (And yes, their names themselves also conveniently carry the numbers...)

You’ll never say ‘one’ though. Instead, ‘da’ or big / large is used.

Names of the characters

Wow so only after all that can we begin to explain the many names... Let’s begin.

Wu Xie - Wu Xie is actually the most straightforward thank god. Most people will call him this, Zhang Qiling included.

AKA Tianzhen or even Xiao Tianzhen - This is nickname provided Pangzi gave him meaning ‘naive’ or ‘innocent’, and what Pangzi calls him most if not all the time. There’s a phrase in Chinese too called ‘tianzhenwuxie’ to mean innocent, carefree, and pure. The ‘wu’ there is a different but homonymous word with Wu Xie’s ‘Wu’, but the meaning and reference is clear (Chinese has looooots of homonyms and puns). This is also why that phrase ‘My lifetime, in exchange for you a decade of innocence and purity.’ from Zhang Qiling to Wu Xie is so heart-wrenching, because those last four Chinese words are ‘tianzhenwuxie’, a poetic play on his two names. 😭

AKA Xiao Xie - Called by his second uncle, Wu Erbai

AKA Da Zhizi - Called by his third uncle, meaning ‘big nephew’. ‘Da’ here just means the oldest really. Wu Xie is Wu Sanxing’s oldest (but also only) nephew. And ‘nephew’ here too specifically refers to the son of your brother.

AKA Xiao Sanye - Called by Pan Zi, Bai Haotian (from Lost Tomb Reboot). Sanye here is in reference to how he dogs his third uncle’s footsteps all the time. And he’s the younger version so... there.

AKA Laoban or Wu-laoban - Called by Wang Meng, business partners because laoban means ‘boss’.

Zhang Qiling - Whew OK honestly, I don’t think of him as ‘Zhang Qiling’ much at all, because very rarely do any of the other characters refer to him as Zhang Qiling. Most of the time it’s...

AKA Xiaoge - This is what Wu Xie and Pangzi refer to him a lot as. Xiaoge literally translates to ‘little big brother’, but that meaning is weird in English. So don’t think of it that way. Xiaoge is just a generic term for a young guy. Like... ‘lad’? Lol. But he’s all mysterious and stuff so the generic term just stuck. This is also why in Tomb of the Sea, someone referred to Li Cu as ‘xiaoge’, because he was indeed a xiaoge. But in Wu Xie’s heart, there’s only one Xiaoge. ❤️

AKA Menyouping - The name of this ship! Pingxie! This is what Wu Xie referred to him mostly as in his first POV novel. It means ‘stuffy oil bottle’ and communicates the sentiment of ‘poker face’ or just someone with no expressions.

Note on Zhang Qiling: This name is actually a title rather than a name. Qiling is the title given to the Zhang patriarch responsible for handling the spirits of their ancestors... eh it’s complicated and warrants its own post if you want to know more.

Note on ‘Kylin’: I know this is what the official translations had it, but like... wtf. What, no. Like, idk what happened here, but this is a terrible mistranslation. ‘Kylin’ or ‘Qilin’ is the name of the mystical beast of which Zhang Qiling has a tattoo of, but it is two entirely different words from the ‘Qiling’. Don’t let the similarity in English spelling fool you. Completely different words. Some translator thought Kylin might market better probably. But... no. It’s just wrong. I have to do a double-take when I see people writing ‘Kylin’. Come on translators, have more faith in your English speaking audience. Fans can adapt! Don’t butcher the name for sake of marketability!

Wang Pangzi - Yes, ‘Fatty’ is the accurate translation haha. Most people refer to him as Pangzi, including Wu Xie and Zhang Qiling.

AKA Pangye - Referred to by Pangzi himself, but also sometimes people who are trying to suck up to Pangzi.

AKA Pangge - Referred to by his love interests.

Wu Sanxing - Wu Xie’s third uncle. See, I don’t even know what to call him by default because I’m not sure what the subs tend to say.

AKA Sanshu - Wu Xie and his friends will call him this.

AKA Sanye - Pan Zi and other people in the industry will call him this.

Hei Yanjing - Again, I’ve no idea which name to use as his primary. Translates literally to ‘sunglasses’. Not technically ‘black sunglasses because that’s redundant’. See, even the spacing between his name here is unnecessary because this isn’t his official name, only a nickname. I don’t think we have his real name. But this version is generally called by most others I think?

AKA Hei Xiazi - This means ‘black blind person’, and is what Xiaoge refers to him as... and some others.

AKA Heiye - Just a more respectful reference. Called by Xie Yuchen.

Xie Yuchen - Called by Xiaoge and others less familiar.

Jie Yuhua - His stage name.

Xiao Hua - Called by Wu Xie, as it’s a nickname built off of his stage name.

Huaye - Called by Hei Yanjing and Pangzi, but more so out of humorous flattery than anything.

Whew that was a lot. Just be glad this isn’t MDZS where people had courtesy names on top of all these names... I think I’ll stop there, but feel free to shoot me any questions about other characters!

#daomubiji #dmbj #daomu biji #wu xie #zhang qiling #wang pangzi #iron triangle #the lost tomb #chinese names #pingxie #dmbj meta

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Lovebug (7/12)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

They all called her Hange. But they said her name like it was a title, like it was something that had to be said with as little chance of a slip of a tongue as possible. It was a practiced phrase, a relished sensation.

That was the first thing that came to mind when Levi started to give a little more thought to his surroundings. There was a bigger picture that could have explained such reactions. Hange was walking next to him. More importantly, next to her was Zeke, the owner of the two hectare complex housing both a sixteen floor hospital, a medical arts building and two parking lots.

And that was just one of his hospitals. Levi liked to remind himself of that, as he followed behind, a little more perceptive than usual of the stares, the whispers and the returned smiles.

Zeke was charismatic. Hange was charismatic. When they walked straight ahead, their strides confident, Levi could only gape, slowly becoming more self conscious of his own inability to keep his back straight. Suddenly, he was aware of his own inability to greet every single one of the workers by name, greet every single stranger like he had known them his whole life.

Maybe Hange did know some of them. “Hey, Hange that one patient you just talked to, is he regular or something?” Levi asked.

Hange shrugged. “No, I just met him.”

Levi hadn’t been close enough to hear the conversation but the grins exchanged, the confident tone with which Hange navigated the conversation. They had all seemed just a little too natural at first glance. She didn’t seem at all exhausted by multiple interactions in a row.

Hange had stopped just a few inches in front of Levi before turning back at him. “You seem stressed,” she commented.

Zeke went ahead, still chatting with a balding man in a business suit. He gestured in the same manner, chattered with the same confident tone.

Yes, after staring for a little longer than what could have been comfortable. Levi had to admit to himself, he was a little more stressed than usual. “I’m fine,” he said, turning to Hange, forcing his gaze on her. Averting eyes would only make the process of being stressed, more stressful.

“It sucks Erwin couldn’t come,” Hange continued.

“Erwin doesn’t know much about how the application actually works so I’ll just document what’s needed in our proposal and we’ll just need his take on prices and on budget allocation and that’s enough,” Levi explained.

“Maybe, they’ll do it over another game of golf,” Hange mused. “If we do play golf again, would you join?”

Levi raised one eyebrow at her. “Why waste your time playing golf again?”

“To close important business deals.”

“You can do it in the office.”

Hange chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many businessmen have closed deals on the golf course. Investors don’t work eight to five jobs in the office you know. A lot of them like to play a good game of golf then go into the office and sign the actual paperwork there. It builds camaraderie.”

“Is that why you know how to play? For business purposes?”

Hange nodded. “I’ve learned golf, a few gambling games to mingle. Besides, people like to know how their business partners and their fellow investors think and what better way than watching them over a few games right?”

“I’m not a rich businessman, I wouldn’t know,” Levi muttered. He walked ahead of Hange and surveyed his surroundings. There were patients, nurses, doctors and visitors. They all had their own conversations Levi would most likely never figure out the meat of. His own disconnect from them, his much closer connection to Hange and by extension to Zeke, had made him aware of the fact that he was painfully poor.

There was a wry smile plastered on Hange's face, as if she was starting to sense the discomfort herself. “Yeah, to be honest, it is a rich man’s game. Most businessmen who play golf, have shares in private golf courses or memberships and it’s customary to invite fellow business partners for a game in your home country club.”

“How much are these shares?” Levi enunciated those words just a little slower. It was an unpleasant thing to ask that only served to aggravate his own self consciousness. Somehow, he was feeling a little masochistic at that moment.

Hange shrugged. “Depends on the club. Maybe a few tens of thousands of dollars a year, sometimes a hundred.” It turned out she hadn’t noticed his discomfort or maybe he was just too good at hiding it.

Levi still attempted a light response. “Figures why I never learned how to play then.”

“Yeah, well to be honest, although I have played as a kid, I only got to play a lot more when I got together with Zeke. His family owns shares in country clubs in a lot of countries.”

It was a question of transitivity, one Levi quickly answered. And the large numbers he was starting to lose control of in his mind, had manifested as a cough, an almost painful, raspy one.

“Are you okay?” Hange asked. It had only been a week since the drowning incident at the beach. It subsided quickly after and Levi surmised that it wasn't the fault of his own poor health. It had been his own inability to fathom numbers, to comprehend wealth and his own blatant poorness that had frozen time for him.

Hospitals. Real Estate. Resorts. Country Club Shares. Although it was only a small aspect of it, his mind was also back to tasting the free flowing tea in Zeke’s private airplane.

“I’m fine,” Levi said. I just tried to mentally calculate the amount of money your husband earns and spends on a yearly basis. A mental note he added just for himself.

Zeke would obviously have a lot of money. He would obviously be faced with the problem on how to spend the money. Those were facts Levi grappled with as he took a deep breath just to clear the remnants of burns in his throat.

And those facts only made it more difficult to move as Levi stumbled closer and closer upon a burning conclusion.

Zeke was filthy rich. Zeke was powerful.

Levi was a meagre employee who made a meagre annual salary which was probably less than their pocket money for one trip to Europe.

Zeke had proven to be abrasive, just a little bit of a bastard. He proved to be somewhat unpredictable.

Levi was under his mercy, under Zeke’s very flamboyant whims. He clambered for solace elsewhere, back to Hange who had caught up to him. Hands behind her back, she continued to walk through the hospital like she was strolling through a park.

She was a good reminder that he wasn’t alone. Hange would help him through whatever whims or threats that came with taking up the business venture of a billionaire as a typical employee. As he studied Hange’s distracted expression, Levi had to admit, he wasn’t so sure where Hange stood in that whole relationship.

Zeke loves Hange. Hange loves Zeke. But how much help would Hange be to him? Even if Hange was helpful, even if she was supportive. Until when? For how long?

He soon concluded, the only thing he could be certain of was uncertainty. What would determine the success of the application, could be Hange or it could be him. The only thing he could predict or he could control would be his own actions.

It wasn’t motivation that had him moving faster. It was discipline. “Where are we going?” Levi asked, his voice more mechanical than a second ago for sure.

“Zeke’s office is on the top floor,” Hange answered.

Levi feigned understanding. Hange had said it like she had answered the question moments back. Maybe she did and he was just a little too unhinged at that moment. Besides, they were taking too many pit stops towards the office, only prolonging the grueling journey.

Hange and Zeke were talking to everyone on the way up. After a while, Levi tuned them out, willing himself to focus on something a little less stressful like how much the finishings on the hospital could have been, how much the tiled floors below him could have cost to not gather dust from his shoes so easily.

And he thought again to every single person being paid by Zeke to even be there. Time went incredibly slowly but as soon as they arrived at the front of the room, Levi could have sworn time passed way too quickly.

“Managing a hospital costs a lot of money, Levi,” Zeke explained as he stood outside the door of what could have been his office.

“I’m perfectly aware of that,” Levi responded, mustering as much ‘professional’ as he could with that sentence.

“Well, you look a little astonished, surprised? Or maybe that’s just your natural face.” Zeke said it like it was a truth that could be easily brushed off.

Somehow, that pushed a few buttons for Levi. He clamped his mouth shut, scolding himself for not even noticing that for a good few minutes that it was wide open.

That was more bait for Zeke. “Difficult to fathom eh? Just imagine some of these machines cost more money than most people would ever see in your life.”

And Zeke had multiple hospitals, more hospitals than Levi could even count with both hands and both feet maybe, and that monkey was completely aware of how much he actually had. It was in his demeanor, his approach towards others.

The door opened with a loud click and a grating creak. “It’s been a while Mr. Jaeger, Hange,” the woman on the other side greeted.

Everyone called Hange, Hange. Levi noted once again. It only seemed natural that Hange would have preferred that anyway.

Zeke went ahead inside the office confidently like he owned the place---since he owned the place. Hange gestured for Levi to follow behind and Levi used that last few seconds to spare a glance at the small girl with black curly hair, sleepy eyes and a very mature looking face.

“You’re Levi right? Zeke and Hange told me a lot about your application and we’re very much looking forward to seeing it in action.”

Levi subtly patted the phone in his front pocket, not for anyone to see. It just served as some reassurance that he hadn’t completely forgotten it at home or it hadn’t fallen off. When he spent too much time calculating numbers, calculating assets he would never own, and maybe never even fathom, he was aware that he may have been distracted enough to forget why he was there in the first place.

“This here is Pieck,” Zeke waved his hand with great flourish. Really though, when Levi was completely aware that that man most likely owned half the country, any gesture he did could be described as something overly flamboyant.

Pieck nodded at Zeke then at Levi. “I handle the psych wards here. Hange’s been requesting permission to test here and Zeke, he’s been raving non stop about your application,” she said with wonder in her eyes.

Zeke? Talking wonders about my app? Levi attempted to sneak a glance at Zeke, withdrawing it at the last minute after noticing, Zeke was looking right at him.

“There’s a lot of potential for that application,” Zeke answered. He had shifted to a more professional demeanor.

Hange nodded. “I mentioned this over email but Levi and I have been doing a lot of testing on it. This type of technology can be used to improve the accuracy of diagnosis, the effectiveness of treatments in psych wards…”

“Yes, I read your email and Zeke and I have been discussing this already.”

Hange’s eyes widened. She turned to Zeke. “You have?”

“I’ve been working with the other doctors here on getting volunteers among the kids. We currently have an emotional management program for kids and this would be a great opportunity to see the application. We could set a date for testing the application…” Pieck looked down at her tablet, sliding her finger over it.

From Levi’s own position, he couldn’t clearly see what she was fiddling with, his own tech savvy instincts though were hinting to a calendar. He continued to watch her finger slide over it, sliding across weeks or months he supposed.

More than enough time to get an application ready for testing.

“What about sometime this week? Would Wednesday do?”

“Wednesday? To test the love alarm app?” I thought we’ll be doing it now. He turned to Hange who seemed visibly confused as well.

Hange furrowed her brows. “We could test the love alarm now,” she suggested.

“Oh yes, definitely. But what about the test build of the application we requested?” Pieck asked.

“You have a test build already right?” Zeke turned to Levi. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned working on something… Hange, you’ve been neck deep on that proposal right?”

Levi opened his mouth to speak. It’s not ready. That was a lie. There was no build but Levi couldn’t even allow himself a sliver of confusion in his expression. It was a professional meeting. He was supposed to have everything under control.

“I have been working on something…” Hange started.

But it’s far from ready. We barely have anything out.

Pieck seemed too expectant. She turned her ipad over to him, clear enough for him to see. “We’ve informed the doctors of some free time around this week. It would be best to have it before most of the younger kids go on summer vacation. The cycle of our emotion management program ends this week and the doctors are already very familiar with the kids---”

“When does the next cycle end? We could get something available by then,” Levi said.

“We won’t be holding them during the summer unfortunately. We’ll be using that time to process data and results… So would December do?” Pieck turned to Zeke.

“What do you think Hange? This is one project you want to do right?”

Try another hospital. Another group of kids. Another program. Levi’s mind was racing with too many alternatives.

“Yes, but I don’t think the test application will be ready by then,” Hange argued.

“Where are you two now in the process?” Zeke asked.

The planning stages. Levi couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

“We don’t have anything worth presenting yet,” Hange said.

“Well, we’re not asking for a perfect product.” Zeke wasn’t addressing it at Hange. HIs blue eyes were fixed on Levi. When Levi found himself unable to even force a hint of indignance out of his mouth, he started to realize, those weren't just eyes. They were millions of dollars worth of investments, billions of dollars worth of assets in one long stare.

Levi tensed up on his seat. They weren’t asking for a perfect product but with that much money on the line, he didn’t have much room for his own decisions.

“You could do something right? Take some code from the love alarm just to get something ready?” Zeke suggested. They were reasonable suggestions Levi could easily expound on himself.

“What do you have in mind?” Levi forced himself to meet the man’s eyes.

“You’re the developer. I’m merely an investor.” Merely. The word, the way Zeke had emphasized it with an almost mocking tone, implied the complete opposite. “Tell me Levi, If he put his mind into it, what do you think a developer can do?”

They didn’t test the love alarm that day. Levi left the hospital two hours earlier than planned and went directly to his office.

***

He couldn’t have gone there any slower. The train couldn’t have run any slower and of course, he probably wouldn’t have wasted so much time fiddling with the key over his door knob if his hand hadn’t been shaking.

It was as if the whole world was trying to slow him down. He had two days---less than 48 hours--- to get something for testing. With the amount of work needed, the mountains of code needed to be written, copied and pasted, tested, Levi wasn’t seeing it in days, he was seeing the countdown in his head. When he stared at a clock, he was seeing numbers moving backward, sweet sweet time, pulling away from him.

Time was a precious asset, a precious resource and somehow, such a prospect had Levi clumsier than usual. He fell into the chair on his desk with a thump. He had leaned far back enough for a split second, that he had almost expected his chair to topple backwards.

He didn’t have the time to recover from such a terrifying prospect. While his hands were still shaking, his breaths coming out ragged, Levi forced himself forward. He turned on the computer, allowing himself a brief respite while it booted up.

His work computer was still one of the fastest of his kind and had only allowed him less than a minute to catch a breath. He typed out his username, password. He opened up the server manager.

Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Levi said aloud. That was what Zeke had promised them. As quickly as he repeated those requests to himself, Zeke’s other words echoed in his head, an unwelcome visitor.

You can break down the love alarm into that right? We’re not asking for a perfect application.

He took a deep breath, letting it out as a hard firm huff more than an exhale. As if the force in his chest would be enough to wake him up. The work was overwhelming. He should be calling someone else in to help out.

There were other factors pulling him back though.

For one, it was a Saturday. He saw himself working all the way until Monday. Just recalling Zeke's face, his question had Levi’s head spinning, his hands hovering much more quickly over the keyboard.

It was a challenge from Zeke to him. And he concluded for himself, he didn’t even wanna get Hange involved.

It would be nice to have her here---. Something inside him attempted to argue.

To cheer you on? It was a selfish proposition so Levi scolded himself and concluded that a good punishment would be to just focus.

He did first what he knew best. He copied the necessary code from both the frontend and backend. He worked efficiently. While importing data, he was copying and pasting code. While booting a phone up, he was opening necessary tabs on Github and Stack Overflow.

By the time the sun was completely down, by the time his eyes started to get just a little too crusty and a little heavy, he had a sorry excuse for an interface, a sorry excuse for an API on the server.

He looked at the clock at the lower right of his computer. Eleven in the evening. How long had he been staring at a screen? It was a waste of time to calculate that, so he quickly calculated something a little more pressing.

He had far less than forty eight hours until he needed to submit something.

He had finished a framework in only a few hours but he had more than enough experience developing the love alarm to know, the hard part wasn’t in the actual building. It was in the data loading, it was in the actual testing.

He didn’t allow himself to relax. Around three in the morning, after spending hours cleaning the interface, he fell back dead on the backrest of his seat and he allowed himself a few minutes to close his eyes.

Few minutes turned into hours in a split second. He had forgotten to set an alarm. “Fuck,” Levi hissed. That word hadn’t been enough though to carry the frustration that had bubbled inside him since hearing those words from yesterday afternoon.

What can a developer do if they put their mind into it?

Hange’s words were a savior in their own way. Levi, I’m in no hurry. Take as much time as you need. They were comforting but they didn't do much to stop Levi from sitting up and going back to work.

Had it been for Zeke? Or had it been for Hange? Or had it been his own pride that had him pushing himself to restart the boot up the idle computer.

Zeke was the important stakeholder. He held the funds. Hange was just a benefactor of the funds. Ultimately, Zeke made the final choice.

He took one deep breath, letting out a shout at the exhale. He pulled himself to a kneeling position and pressed the power button on the computer. Pulling himself up by the base of the chair, he walked sluggishly towards his white board and wrote out three words, right next to each other.

Happy. Sad. Angry.

He had no time to make an algorithm. But he could make estimates. He wrote out the basic model under each word.

“When numbers are above this line, the alarm rings,” Levi muttered to himself. When he was speaking out loud, he seemed to make some sense.

It wasn’t as easy as that though. A machine learning model after all relies on probability, it relies on prediction and the only way to get the machine to figure out probabilities was to give it data to mine from.

He turned back to the computer and typed a query. Exporting the data would take a while. Another opportunity to rest.

He used that moment to take a glance at his phone. A notification from Hange was at the top of his lock screen. He immediately unlocked his phone.

5:34 AM

Ping me if you need any help.

It was just 6:30. Hange sent the message an hour ago.

5:35 AM

Sorry for checking in late. Zeke took me out for dinner

Maybe Hange had sensed the slight irritation Levi would feel at seeing the first text sent more than twelve hours since they separated at the hospital.

5:35 AM

He wanted to spend the night with me.

5:35 AM

Just the two of us.

5:37 AM

No Phones

Out of spite or out of exhaustion, Levi kept his reply stone cold and professional.

6:36 AM

Complete the table below:

Happiness: Endorphins, Serotonin, Dopamine, Oxytocin

Anger: Adrenaline, Cortisol

Sadness: ??????

Hange’s reply came before the data export even finished

6:50 AM

Sadness: Lack of neurotransmitters.

It was a shitty reply. So Levi gave a shitty reply in return.

6:50AM

?????

Lack of neurotransmitters? Somehow, Levi didn't trust Hange to reply on time. A quick google search later and a few hours of stress later, Levi had derived the sadness model form happiness model. The models were done, they just needed to be coded.

That did nothing to placate the turmoil inside him. For some odd reason, he thought looking at his phone could pacify him somehow.

8:28 AM

Sorry Levi, Zeke took us out golfing. I’ll try to be there before lunch.

8:37 AM

Zeke’s calling the shots today :’) I’ll still try to be there before lunch.

Levi kept his reply minimalistic.

10:36 AM

Technically, it was already ‘before lunch’ so Levi wasn’t expecting anything. They haven’t seen each other in a while. He whispered to himself, just to placate whatever irritation had settled within him, manifesting as an almost permanent grimace as he started to code again.

Lunch came and went quickly with a half finished burger and fries and just a passing thought that Zeke and Hange were probably having a feast at whatever country club they were in.

“Be here before lunch my ass.” Levi said those last two words with bitter burning venom, loud enough to echo in his small office space. It would be nice if somehow she could hear it wherever she was. “My. fucking. Ass. ” He repeated, channelling all the irritation, the exhaustion, the impatience into three words. In another space, maybe she could have heard it. “Fuck me in the ass.” He let out another taut swear, enjoying how that at least sent a splits econd long wave of euphoria through him.

Maybe it could count as therapy if he typed out the words ‘my fucking ass’ or ‘fuck me in the ass’ to Hange’s message box. He didn’t have to send it though.

2:37 PM

Zeke wanted to go shopping. I swear I tried to leave.

Fuck me in the ass. Levi typed. Under it, he typed something else.

Lunch time. My. Fucking. Ass.

It would have been nice to send out. For at least a few second, it sounded like a good idea to send it. Levi had enough self control though and he had enough forward thinking skills not to send it. The profanities on the message box were enough to at least calm him down.

No, you haven’t seen your hubby in a while. Take your time :-)

Was the sarcasm apparent? He focused for a little longer on the smiley face at the end.

4:35 PM

No, you haven’t seen your hubby in a while. Take your time :-) :-) ;-)

Then he added two more just for authenticity's sake. And he went back to coding, assuring himself that the burger and the regular fries would be enough to last him until he finished the damn application.

7:30 PM

Levi! You want anything for dinner?

Levi saw that message in between reviewing a hundred compiler warnings all on the same line of code. He ignored it. Instead, he decided sending himself a pull request and reviewing the code himself as a mental exercise was a better use of his time.

8:47 PM

Hey, I might be a little late. We went out to dinner but I bought you take out. :D How are things going?

Despite the compiler warnings, the code managed to compile, so Levi allowed himself the luxury of a quick break.

10:10 PM

Fine.

After replying, Levi sat up from his seat, shifted his weight to his legs one by one. The window was a good few feet away but he saw that as a good chance for exercise. He opened the window, allowing the fresh air in, first as a weak wave only thin enough to fit through the peek. He opened it a little wider, popping his head through the gap, noting how the streets were completely empty. He stared back at the clock on his computer screen.

Ten on a Sunday evening. Typical.

He sat back on the chair, with a loud and firm plop, freezing for as long as it took for the chair to stop shaking. He leaned back and pulled the test device from his drawer. A part of him was tempted to close all the Stack Overflow and GitHub tabs.

He wasn't ready to call it a day though. He didn’t trust his ability to code anything accurately with that short of a time frame.

A few minutes later, the APK file was loaded. He booted up the application, stifling a cringe at the shitty interface.

The shitty title screen with the shitty plain white background flashed on the screen.

ALAR

He wasn’t particularly good at front end and UI engineering so he closed his eyes and begrudgingly whispered to himself Zeke's words. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Really though, it would have been nice to submit a perfect test application. Just to show up Zeke. Just to impress Hange. It would have been great and Levi allowed himself a grin as he leaned back on the chair and stared at the ceiling.

A good few hours later, he started to test. Soon after, he started to theorize something else. Maybe he jinxed it. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so hopeful.

Suddenly, he was scolding himself for just being a little too ungrateful at the shitty user interface. His mind continued to wander, his threads of imagination continued to wind, interweaving against one another, tightening to uncomfortable knots in his brain. And suddenly he was scolding himself over the hundreds of compiler warnings he ignored.

The application should alarm when someone angry, sad or happy holds it. That was how he programmed it.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to work. When his brain was muddled with confusion and eventual frustration, heavy with tension, he took a quick break to stare at his phone.

11:58 PM

Zeke got a little drunk. I just have to bring him home.

Levi decided then, (and he was certain of it), he’d rather not have Hange there.

11:59 PM

No need to come here. Go take care of him.

His phone volume had been set to the lowest level. Just in case, Levi put his phone on silent as well.

He turned his attention back to the test device. “Come on, fucking hell. Work.” Levi hissed as if the code, the computer understood anger, as if it understood frustration.

“It’s the exact same fucking code. I just changed the algorithm,” Levi said louder, as if the code understood verbal arguments.

All to no effect. So he went back to the compiler warnings.

1:38 AM

Just tucked Zeke in bed. I’m taking a cab now. I swear, I’m really on the way now.

Levi had conveniently checked his phone around the time Hange texted. He had been checking the phone anyway in ten minute intervals.

1:39 AM

No need.

He started to use his own phone for testing, just in case a diffeent device suddenly made everything work. Besides, he liked to see the notifications there. He liked her messages. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want her there. Frustrated and confused, he slid his phone towards the end of the desk and it hit the wall with a resounding clatter, loud enough to make Levi wince.

He slipped out of the chair and onto the floor with a crash, loud enough to rival the impact of the phone on the wall just a second ago. His back was sore, but still he couldn’t help but entertain the thought that he would have been willing to experience that again, just to get the application to work.

You’re angry now right? He asked himself, as he held the test device in front of him.

The alarm didn’t ring.

You’re sad? Right? He was sad. He was sure his eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep. His eyelids were a little crusty for sure. And as the application stayed silent, stayed inactive even when it was right in front of him, even when he had dropped almost painfully on his face, the phone remained silent, still.

Maybe his application was an idiot. Maybe it fell for fake smiles. So he forced a smile then, as he pressed his back on the ground, stretched his legs forward and stared at the ceiling above him.

Silence.

He broke the silence himself, with one grunt as he slammed the phone on the floor next to him. “Fucking hell.”

The one curse had him reflecting. How angry was he? Who was he angry at? And why wasn’t the alarm going off?

Anger was a negative feedback loop. The more he let his anger take over, the more frustrated he became. Then the more the device should have rang but it didn’t. Then the more frustrated he became.

The frustration should have been enough to make it ring. If it had been working correctly.

Eventually, the anger became strong enough to take control elsewhere. It pushed him to turn towards the desk, push himself up, just high enough to be able to stretch his hand up and pull his own personal phone back down with him on the floor. He lay back down on the floor, raised his phone on front of him and booted it up. He turned on the application and looked through it again.

No response.

Happy. Sad. Angry.

No response for any of them.

A banner appeared, falling over the application.

1:59 AM

Levi, I’m here, where do I go?

No need. He willed himself to type it again. He didn’t want her there, but he did. Conflicted feelings had him frozen on the floor, the phone just above him, his eyes fixed on the screen.

If Hange came, then she came. Who was he to stop her?

2:00 AM

Do I go to your office??

2:05 AM

If you don’t answer, I’ll just assume you’re in the office.

2:07 AM

Even if I waste my time, It’s my fault anyway.

2:07 AM.

I’m sorry.

Hange wasn’t in any obligation to be there anyway. She was an investor, not an employee, he reminded himself. He was watching the banners shift like he was watching paint dry. The former though was far more interesting. More than interesting. It was a relief. It was a consolation.

It was home. In the dim room, all alone, he wanted her there. By god, he wanted her there.

There were footsteps and they quickly got louder, the sound of a bag hitting the door, then the sound of the rustle of belongings.

He had left the office door unlocked at least and she was impolite enough to barge in. He liked her impoliteness, it had just made everything flow much better.

He followed her with his eyes, as she slipped through the crack of the door. He watched closely as her face shifted from that of pure surprise, worry… Then pity.

Was that pity? Did he look that pathetic?

“Hey, are you okay?” Hange asked.

“Tired,” Levi answered. He gave her a once over, allowing himself a sliver of a smile at her cocktail dress, the jacket over her, the light make up on her face, the golden studs on her ears. God she was beautiful. “Fun night?”

She nodded. “Zeke wanted to have fun tonight. I humored him by tagging along,” she said lightly.

He’s a lucky man. “Must have been fun.”

She put a hand to his face, and gave him a light slap. “I brought takeout, some sandwiches. Did you have dinner already? We can have it for breakfast.”

She had slapped him hard, not hard enough to leave him burning definitely, but still, he felt some heat resonate from his cheeks. “I tried,” he muttered.

“Tried what?” Hange asked.

“Building the app.”

“Levi, don’t kill yourself over it. You could have asked Petra, Gunther, Eld or Oluo for help right?” It was just like Hange to mention their names like she knew them her whole life.

“They’re on leave.” It was a natural excuse and that had been one reason why he refused to ask for help. He surmised that maybe some of it had been more than that.

“I tried to ask for an extension from Zeke,” she said.

“How did that work out?” It was a half assed response at best. He didn’t want the extension.

“He said no. He expected a lot from you. Besides, he promised the hospital already… Without consulting us.”

"Without consulting us?" Levi repeated. He slammed his fist down on the floor. "Fucking hell."

"Yeah, it's our fault. Zeke did that. I should have helped you and I know I made you wait…" Hange's voice was warm, it was a melody to his hears. ".. .so when I was stuck with Zeke, I made a few calls, picked this up from a good friend of mine." She pressed something cold into his palms.

He didn't even have the energy to crane his neck.

"It's a USB, with data from previously made research, on neurotransmitters, responses from people who've taken tests. I thought it would help build the app so I made a few calls and --"

"I'm done."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm tired."

"Hey, we could cancel tomorrow. I'll just tell Pieck. We can rebuild the app, focus on getting something out."

"Hange, I'm done."

"You're giving up?" There was a crack in her voice, something that sent a twinge to him

He let out a soft chuckle. "No. I managed to make something.”

Hange's eyes widened, a smile curled up her lips. “You’re kidding.”

“But it barely even works."

"What makes you say that?"

"It doesn't ring."

No matter how angry, no matter how sad, no matter how happy, it didn't ring. The algorithm was broken. That had been Levi's conclusion. The same conclusion he had come across when they had tested the love alarm again a few days back.There were just too many compiler warnings maybe?

Hange wasn't a developer and maybe that's why she had been a little hopeful. "I'll test it out, send me the file?"

One APK file later, a few clicks on the phone, and the alarm rang in the dim narrow room.

It made his head pound, but still, it was music to his ears. He had been too tired to even let out a strong exhale, a sigh of relief. "Are you happy? Sad? Angry?" He whispered.

"It says here, I’m happy," Hange answered.

"At least we know it works," Levi said.

"Why don't we try yours again?" Hänge pulled his hand up, guiding the phone back in between his finger tips.

"It didn't work the first time," Levi argued.

"Again." Hange was insistent and at that moment, she was much stronger than he was.

He unlocked his phone, and opened the application.

"Turn on the alarm," Hänge said.

He didn't need guidance, he made the application after all. Her voice had been coaxing, she had made everything go smoother in her own way.

He dropped the phone on his chest, stared up at the ceiling, frozen as the phone vibrated in his chest. "What does it say?"

Hange let out a short laugh. "This application can read multiple feelings at the same time? Is this expected behavior?"

"Why?"

“It says you're angry."

"I'm tired. Of course I'm angry."

"And sad," Hange added.

" Oh really?" Something started to sting at his eyes.

"And guess what, it also says you're happy."

"Am I?" Levi asked. All he could feel then was relief, relief that in the end it had alarmed. "I guess that means we're at least kinda ready for tomorrow…" He could have said more, if his voice didn't crack.

"Hey, rest. It doesn't look like you slept well."

"I slept a bit last night."

"People need at least six hours of sleep at night… and really, Levi you don't look so good."

He didn't need to see it to understand. His eyes were heavy, his rims were prickling at one another and one cheek was wet, and it brought the 'wet' all the way down to his chin, in one straight trail. A few more soon followed.

Sad. Angry. Happy. But he liked to think he was just exhausted. That feeling loomed far above the others anyway.

It rang for no reason then. He concluded. Maybe it was a bug. After all, how did something just start magically working after not working for hours before that?

Hange spoke up again in the slience. "Hey, are you crying?"

He only noticed it when she asked. His mind was quick to explain it. "Sometimes, people tear up when they're sleepy right?"

***

Hange was there when he woke up and he was glad to see her. Her eager presence was a reminder enough that she didn’t have to be there.

“Happy Monday!” Hange chirped joyfully, as if that had been the best thing to say while Levi was still getting used to his surroundings.

He never completely got used to it. The back of his head was throbbing from having fallen asleep on the hard wooden floor. The front of his head pounded. He couldn’t even lift his head without feeling some protest from his back. A light prickling sensation had settled on his fingers, all extending from an ache in his wrist. “Happy Monday,” Levi muttered. Was she mocking him?

“Sorry, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to move you,” Hange said wryly.

Not moving him might have been the better option. He barely got any sleep at night. In the small office, if it were between falling asleep sitting down on a comfortable chair, falling asleep on a floor, the floor won by a little more.

The phone sat on his hand, cold and hard. Levi pulled it up to his face to check the time.

6:30 AM. Work starts at eight. Fuck. He forgot to deploy application changes the night before.

“You should take a leave.” Hange could have been reading his mind or the stress could have just been apparent in his heavy eyelids and his voice, a hoarse whisper.

“What makes you say that?” Levi asked. He had hoped to use that moment to prove how okay he was. Sitting up was enough to leave him wincing, dealing with his exhausted body that had protested such a simple movement.

“You don’t wanna take one?”

“I forgot to deploy the changes. We’re supposed to do a sanity check today,” Levi said.

“Do it over breakfast?” Hange suggested, pressing a brown paper bag on his hand. "I brought sandwiches from last night."

“You know you can go home now. We can meet later at the hospital.”

“I wanna have breakfast,” Hange said, her voice firmer than a second ago.

“Go have breakfast with Zeke.”

Hange’s face was like that of a wounded puppy. It came quickly as a flash before shifting to something a little more sly. “I’ll take you out to tea? You never had your tea time at the country club.”

It could have been tea or maybe it was the efforts Hange had taken to insist. Sometimes, insisting was more than enough. Particularly then, when he was overwhelmingly and unbearably tired.

“What do you have in mind?” Levi asked.

“We can see what’s open,” Hange answered.

He let out a sigh, as if deciding to take a break was the hardest thing he could have done. All for the sake of one Hange Zoe. On the contrary, it was a surprisingly easy decision to make.

Levi opened up the messaging application on the phone, running his mind through quick calculations. Three hours. Just enough time for quick tea, enough time to get home and shower and get back to the office by ten.

Running late. Deploy fixes to production. We sanity check when I get to the office at around ten.

He sent over that message to the group chat of his own team, making sure to tag Eld and Petra.

He felt a little guilty but something else won over. A weak suggestion, heavily supported by his sore back, his swollen eyes and his trembling hands. Maybe he deserved a break.

***

They moved the goalposts. Levi was in no shape to brave the public transportation crowds on a Monday morning with a total of less than six hours of sleep the past few hours while his mind was complete mush at having coded an entire application himself.

Hange had alternatives. “I could have called a car to pick us up.”

Alternatives Levi wasn’t completely in good terms with. “No thank you, I’d rather not impose on your dear husband.” On top of that, he wanted his tea now.

The only shop which sold tea the least painful walking distance away was the convenience store just outside the building grounds. The convenience store had enough variety that he could be at least a little creative with his breakfast.

Paper tea cup in hand, Levi popped open the cup, He had asked for an extra large cup for one reason.

The green tea bubbled inside the container and Levi was a little adventurous that morning and maybe a little crazy. The past two days were crazy. He reminded himself, obliterating the guilt and the fear of risking his own health and sanity.

He poured ten shots of espresso onto the cup of green tea. He couldn’t be too sure how it would taste. Then he remembered, no one actually drank caffeine for the taste anyway. He drank half of it in a gulp. It could have been the bitterness that burned, or the actual heat of boiling water. When he was still making a conscious effort just to be aware of the streets in front of him, just to stay sitting up on the pavement, he couldn’t be too sure.

He took a big bite of his sandwich to drown it out. Then another. Then two more before crumpling the brown paper bag and pocketing it.

Hange humored him, sitting down next to him on the pavement just in front of the convenience store. She was still in her cocktail dress, a jacket over it. The corners of her eyes were still a little darker from the make up from last night. She looked ridiculous, like an overgrown teenager out on a wild night and had failed to get home on time.

His mind was running on too many scenarios, a total waste of brain power. The espresso would kick in eventually. And maybe it had been the espresso that had him suddenly laughing like an idiot.

Or maybe he was going crazy.

“Are you okay?”

He probably was going crazy. At that point, Levi was already skimming the stages of acceptance. “Where the fuck did you even go last night?”

Hange sighed. “Drinking, a little gambling. Zeke wanted to celebrate the new deal. ”

“And that’s why you played golf that morning. ”

Hange hummed in response. “Zeke and Erwin played. I probably would have invited you but yeah, with the application… Would you have had time?”

Somehow, Levi was slightly offended that they hadn’t even invited him. He blamed the caffeine. “Really? Well, fuck it. I don’t even play golf.” The caffeine continued to bubble, the irritation followed suit. “I’m sure they had a good sleep the past few nights,” he added.

“Well, they can’t do what you did.”

“Who cares? I’m at the mercy of money--- Zeke’s money. Rich people like to throw around orders then money, as if money’s just magic. As if developers --- employees are just bunnies or trick monkeys.”

Hange put up her hands in surrender. "You have every right to shit on rich people."

Levi dropped his shoulders and leaned back on the wall. “What can I do when millions of dollars are on the line?”

“You could have said---”

“Said no? And what? Risk losing this deal?” Risk losing you?

“I told you before, this is my pet project. This is my timeline. I can decide how long it takes. Zeke just wants---”

"Wants what?" Levi challenged.

It was a challenge for Hange but it looked like the world was on a mission to accept it. "Hange, what are you doing here?"

It took Levi a few seconds longer to put two and two together. After all, imagining that big ham of a voice within proximity of a place that sold teabags by the dollar was preposterous even for him.

"Zeke, what are you doing here?" Hange asked.

"Just need to drop a few legal documents at Erwin’s office. I saw you two on the way here, in a convenience store parking lot of all things?" His voice was judgemental, as expected. Still it was softer than that of two days ago.

It was easy for Levi to surmise that the blonde was most likely nursing a hangover. He relished the view of Zeke struggling to approach them. Misery loved company after all. Zeke’s gait was a little slower and if Levi squinted, he was sure the ungraceful wobble would have been more laughably noticeable.

“Right, you had the lawyer look over it already?”

Zeke nodded. “I’ve set up a post dated check.” He turned to Levi. “You’ve finished developing a build for testing?”

Levi managed a nod, closing his eyes as he did, to alleviate the pounding. And of course the irritation.

Zeke had been professional about the question. Levi couldn’t help but sense entitlement in it. When he was in a bad mood, any request reeked of entitlement. He spent a good few seconds after, reminding himself, Zeke was paying millions for it, and deserved every right to ask questions and expect.

“Zeke…” Hange sounded, almost breathless. “This is more money than I expected.”

How much money? Levi didn’t wanna know but from the tremble in her hands, her wide eyes, Levi didn’t think he even wanted to know.

“Think of it… as compensation for forcing you to delay your PhD,” Zeke said. “That was your plan before we got married right?”

PhD? Now that he did think about it, Hange mentioned something about delaying a PhD, all to marry Zeke.

“Yeah, if this study… this testing goes well, I could publish it for my doctorate degree,” Hange said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. A ghost of a smile for just a second. It soon got wider.

Levi only noticed a second later, his mouth had gone the opposite direction as realization dawned on him.

Right, Hange wanted to do research.

Right, Hange wanted a PhD.

And Zeke was the one who had put everything together for him at that moment. “This is your dream right?” He pressed the cheque deeper into her palms.

Hange nodded. Was that the first time he had ever seen her struggle to find the right words?

The hints were all there. The pet project. The doctorate. Hange Zoe who was just a little too interested in neuropsychology.

Why didn’t you tell me this was your dream? This was your PhD? It seemed most criminal that he couldn't even put two and two together. Levi would have wanted to scream back then. He wasn’t in any position to break anyone’s good mood though. Hange’s smile was too wide, her eyes too bright.

“I have a meeting at nine. Breakfast?” Zeke asked.

“I had something to eat already,” Hange said. “But we could get a quick brunch.”

Zeke turned back to Levi. “You’re free to join us.”

“No, I have work at ten,” Levi said. “I’ll see you two later, in the hospital.”

“I’ll see you later.” Hange gave Levi a softer smile, one just for him. He couldn’t read too much into it then. Still, he continued to stare, as she turned back and got into the car.

Zeke stayed outside for a second, leaning on the door. His eyes fixed on Levi’s.

Tired eyes on tired eyes. Levi though wasn’t sleepy enough to hear those last few words.

“Levi, thank you,” Zeke said.

Levi was taken aback for just a second at such a seemingly uncharacteristic expression. Fortunately, pleasantries were basic and automatic if he just put on the right facade. “You’re welcome.”

He watched Zeke get into the car and he stood still for a second longer, watching the car get smaller before it turned the corner of the parking of their building. He started to reflect while recalling the interactions until then. He should have been somewhat grateful for the pleasantries exchanged. After all, the man was worth billions and there weren’t many who did receive the honor of being personally thanked by billionaires.

Somehow, that exchange had only made him sadder. Hange being there next to him suddenly going absent had only made him lonelier. He gulped the rest of the concoction of a while ago, coughing out the bitterness, shaking his head to feel that last buzz.

He checked his phone. 8am. He needed a shower before work but his legs were deadweight.

So he called a taxi, not bothering to calculate the cost. After all, he did deserve a break.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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ohheyitsokay · 4 years ago

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OMG OK SO MY MIND SUPPLIED ME DATA AND IS WORKING OMG HIII ITS BEEN A MINUTE

Soooooo for the soulmate au it would be amazing to do a Marcus Moreno fic cus that man is mwah and for them to share thoughts telepathically but it’s uncontrollable it was on your little prompt list. Like Marcus would just be thinking and only few words would come through something like oh missy asked me to bring marshmallows for s’mores and reader would hear missy, marshmallows, s’mores. I know you’ll do amazing with it cus I love reading your soulmate prompts 🥰

CELESTE HI listen this ask made me fall in love with marcus moreno, a man whom I previously read only like 3 total fics of. also, I was so hoping for a soulmate request from you - I hope you're doing well, friend 💕

wordcount: .7k also celeste not going to lie I wrote a whole other marcus m fic before I realized it didn’t fi the prompt like I wanted to so whenever I figure that out, that’s for you, too?

warnings: a little angst, brief mention of Marcus’ wife passing

You and Marcus Moreno had been close, once upon a time, when you were young and full of dreams and potential. As they do, sometimes, your friendship shifted, and the two of you unwillingly were pulled by destiny to different paths.

When you’d graduated in different branches, the ceremonies were at the same time. Heart aching, you looked through photos of him and a girl, wondering if it would be too late to call him. You found a letter he’d written to you tucked into his present for you, and his words filled the room and you filled your lungs with them, breathing until missing him didn’t hurt, quite as much.

He invited you to his wedding, but you couldn’t make it. Even if you had been sure you wanted to go, and you weren’t, you were undercover in Paris at the time, didn’t even know he was engaged. But you had sent them a card, with a note of genuine well wishes for them. For him.

When you helped his mom with heroes who needed an alternative path, you had clung to her strong hand and looked into her knowing eyes, and asked her not to tell him. But that night, he sent you a long message, thanking you and giving little updates about his life, and gently asking if you’d share yours, too. And when he told you he missed you, the dull ache in your chest was so normal you hardly noticed it.

By the time Missy was born, it was almost gone entirely, and it filled you with joy to see the pictures of her little, determined face. You sent her books from all over the world, and notes with stories about her dad, when he had eyes as clear as hers. She knew you, long before she ever met you in person.

She hugged you tight, crying into your stomach at her mother’s funeral, as her dad, your old friend, told you oceans of words with his eyes alone.

Hearing the voice of your soulmate in your mind was strange, because... well, you hadn’t been expecting it. It didn’t happen to the majority of people, and frankly, you would’ve thought it would have started years before.

Keys... oh, couch... hurry!

But it was nice, hearing them, even if most of the phrases didn’t make any sense.

Nonsense... giant robot?... leaf blower.

Sometimes, you wrote them down, trying to find clues, but this really was nonsense. You wondered if they were messing with you.

She needs... understand... safe.

It had been two months, and you’d heard variations of phrase almost every night. It was a touch annoying, because you were on quite a dangerous mission the Heroics hadn’t quite approved, and you needed to concentrate. Wherever they were, your soulmate was thinking a lot about someone. It almost felt like they were a protector, which was strange, because so were you.

Soccer... late for... lemonade and... backpack.

That one came while you were still asleep early one morning, and you woke up with s strange feeling in your stomach. Your soulmate had a kid? You shook your head to clear out thoughts of a sweet friend and his daughter. But then, on your way to the office:

Missy... marshmallows... s’mores.

You almost crashed, your heart was pounding. It was impossible to think coherently, but thankfully you’d memorized the way Marcus’s office and had clearance.

He wasn’t there, of course he wasn’t, he was obviously getting marshmallows. You could literally hear him, marsh.... marshmallows... where?... mallows... You wanted to cry. It was him. It had to be, right? Right?

“Please, please, universe,” you whispered aloud, pacing in and out of the lobby. It had to be him. For the first time in years, hope poured into your soul and you were full of it, almost overflowing with the need to see him. You remembered your notebook, full of their thoughts. The binding was stretched fat with photos and letters, and you poured over the words. Those little disjointed phrases felt like him and oh they matched how could you not see it?

You didn’t have time to be afraid it was just wishful thinking thought, because suddenly, there he was. Tall and soft and solid, built to protect and to hug, the man who you’d been sharing words and thoughts with since you were young. The man who’s eyes were just as clear as when you first saw him, all those years ago, seeing you plainly, like he could hear your thoughts.

Marcus Moreno.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

#soulmate requests #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes #maybe i don't know people #thoughts from elle

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smugraccoon137 · 4 years ago

Text

Supergirl Season 2 episode 8 Medusa review part 2

If your curious part 1 was just my breakdown of Kara and Mon-els relationship that got way too long. But as always SPOILERS AND GAY THOUGHTS AHEAD

Me and kel get so excited when Lenas in an episode. Like practically giddy. I can’t help smiling when shes on screen honestly. And yes Katie McGrath is beautiful, but beyond that such a pretty smile and lovely voice. I’m sure ratings started to spike when she joined the cast. Okay enough about pretty girls on to the review

Tipsy fucking Alex though guys I can’t get over this mess of a person.

Alex: if I have to come out to my mom then I choose to do it drunk

Kara: no your not *yoinks beer*

Alex: wait no my coming out juice

Kara Danvers sneaky sneaker extraordinaire can totally interview Lena and find out Cadmus things without anyone knowing. The confidence this goofball has is top tier

Underrated relationship: Alex and Winn though. I really really love Winn and honestly Alex is such big sister energy to both him and Kara.

wow Lenas pretty in the interview scene. A touch of auburn hair from the sunlight really makes this shot and we never get to see her with her hair down. Fan service honestly, or maybe she heard a certain beef cake reporter was gonna come by and wanted to dazzel her.

Lena: hair up is for business. Hair down is for flirting friendship time with Kara

Poor baby thinks she falls short nooooo. Your doing your best godamn your only like 25 jesus. Kara give her a hug she needs love and affection

Kara thinks shes being so sneaky in this interview. Such a golden retriever, bad at sneakin. As soon as she toes the line Lena catches on and kicks her out. Really good acting in the scene, the subtle change in expression to show Lenas guard raising. Good job Katie.

Real quick Lena why is your office so ugly? How do you keep it clean? You spend 99% of your days in this place and its whiter than a hospital room. I hate it. Why is your desk an oval? and why does it have a hole in it? Kara cant eat you out in secret anymore damn.

OOHHHhhhh noooo the fucking gas bomb in the bar what the fuck. EVERYBODIES DEAD JESUS WHAT WAS THAT

Poor Mon-el. What happened at the bar was fucked up, and he feels like its fault when its obviously not.

Love that he and Kara are having bro time playing some Monopoly. Oh no not Kara asking if he likes her. Honestly thought these two had good chemistry in this scene. Im a sucker for dumbass not understanding certain words and phrases. So Kara having to reiterate her questions and finally being like “You don’t want to mate with me do you?” was super fun. Omegaverse vibes mfs. Although I am confused by mon-els reaction “I mean have you seen the kind of women I’ve been attracting?” I honestly don’t know what this means.

Kara internal reaction though: Oh thank god

Wow Kara really just has no regard for her own life, huh? she just opens the door and possibly contaminates herself. It’s good to want to help people, but love you gotta care about yourself too

Good reveal with the fortress of solitude. Oof Kara gonna feel like its her fault all those aliens died and mon-els sick. They do a really good job of showing Karas relationship with her parents through their holograms. She wants so badly to see them again, to talk to them. And she can, but not really. They just aren’t real.

Lena cattily to her mother: im used to celebrating holiday weekends alone at my desk

me to Kara: please invite her to thanksgiving

Okay so Lena being adopted is another interesting parallel to Kara. Also the fact that both Kara and Lena fall into there families shadows, and are left behhind or forgotten. Really interesting how Lena and Karas relationship is so similar to Clark and Lex’s for obvious purposes. Though the CW queer coding the fuck out of their relationship in Smallville really only adds to Supercorp fever. Its always been Homoerotic subtext Harold!

Me watching Lena and Lillian trade verbal blows: Wow ya’lls relationship is fucked up. Lex and Lionelle would spar and fence but you two are on another level jesus

oooooof that last line.

Lena: I know your lying

Lillian: and how could you possibly know that?

Lena: because you told me you loved me. And we both know thats not true

Who wrote this jesus fuck my heart. The PAIN.

Bonus thought Lena thinks Karas smart. Goofball beefcake sneaky sneakster who doesnt know the difference between flirting and friendship is smart she thinks. I love these idiots

Wow Kara just doesn’t wait huh? Oh cadmus is going to be at LCorp? Not on my watch. Lena’s there. I know this because I tune into her heart beat just to check on her cus she likes to work late. Don’t worry Alex it’s for friendship reasons.

That LCorp security guard got princess carried for .2 seconds. Best moment of his life.

God its like dark out. Lenas working on a holiday weekend into the night. I hate this, give her friends.

Lena looks so scared when Kara gets thrown into the giant LCorp sign

And then hurt Kara looking up at her with dread.

Kara internal: fuck don’t come out now. I came here to save you

God I love the protectiveness. Its *chefs kiss*. Hank throwing the beam at Lena and Kara even in her hurt state throwing herself in front of it. Sometimes self sacrifice is gay. But how Lena looks at her after wards like “I can’t believe I’m alive. I can’t believe she chose to save me”. Met with a gruff “Get out of here!”. mm yes this is my kind of content. Fight for me.

I was robbed an aftercare scene but I doubt it will be the last time. (*COUGHS* the “im leaving” phone call *COUGHS*)

Talking about the virus Eliza: what about Lena Luthor?

Kara: What about her?! (super defensive is also a super power maam)

Winn: Luthors can be pretty good actors

Kara: No, I looked into LENAS EYES. She doesn’t know anything about cadmus or her mother

J’onzz: Would you stake Mon-els life on that?

well I guess that really puts Lena and Mon-el right next to each other in priorities huh? Which one is more important?

Wow Lena totally has a crush on Supergirl after that. Flustered dork.

Lena: *laughs nervously* you know that doors not really an entrance

Kara: *upsettit stone face pupper*

Lena: :,)

Okay but the way Lena just says “Anything” all breathless and helpful when Kara says she needs her help. Shes crushin hard

Kara tells Lena her mother is in charge of Cadmus.

Lena: >:(

Annnd the crush is dead. That did not last long. Really love that Lena has such a different relationship with Kara vs Supergirl though, good dynamic having her reactions so different. Which I believe actually relates as a Clark and Lois parallel? Seeing as how Lois has two separate relationships with Clark and Superman.

OOf the way Lenas throat bobs with genuine sadness because who she thought Supergirl was is wrong. Shes just like the rest of them. Thinks Lena is just another crazy Luthor. It hurts

Kara: I know what its like to be disillusioned by our parents, but Im a pretty good judge of character, and you are not like your mother. She is cold and dangerous. And you are too good and too smart to follow in her path. Be your own Hero.

Wow just what a good line. They are capable of some things here and there arent they? Melissa's delivery on this is excellent. And the way Katie McGrath is able to show such depth of sadness and bitterness even from a shot of her BACK is really cool. Great acting in this scene in particular. And I can see why the “desperation to be good” is such a highlighted part of these two relationship. Its the one thing in common between Lena and Supergirl, the place where they can meet in the middle. And the way Lena looks after her as she leaves! AHHH thats the good shit, the pining

Okay big Mon-el scene in coming so if you dont want to hear my ranting skip over this part.

Funny how as soon as Kara has this big impactful scene with Lena full of tension and emotion the writers were like: shit we almost forgot Mon-els dying.

Kara: *staring sadly back into Lenas office kind of wanting to go back in*

Writers: *cough cough* KARA He’s DYINGGGG

Kara: Oh shit right. Mon-el Oh no. My *looks at poorly written handwriting on her palm* romantic interest?

Wow Mon-el looks like shit, poor guy. Someone swaddle this pillow princess and get him some soup.

Heres a question. Kara is visibly upset that Mon-el is dying. Is it because she’s sad that the guy shes likes is dying. Because her friend is dying? Because her father created the virus thats killing him (what the writers want us to think)? Or because no matter what Kara does the people she loves keep falling through the cracks and shes helpless to stop it?

Her parents. Clark. Her adoptive father. Now Lena. Now Mon-el. Why can’t she ever do anything? Why is it always her fault? This poor kid has some deep seeded abandonment issues

Mon-el: you know you look beautiful with the weight of all these worlds on your shoulders.

I do remember my reaction here, cus I thought this was a weird line. A line that was obviously meant to be romantic and complimentary, but it felt unsettled in my stomach. Coming back and watching the scene it sits even more uncomfortably there. He obviously means well, but this line is kind of just shitty. Its a very selfish and unthoughtful thing to say to someone.

Kara’s entire fucking life has revolved around other people and making sure they are happy and taken care of. But having “failed” at such a young age to do the impossible things asked of her (carrying on Kryptons legacy, raising Clark) she overcompensates. Any normal person would just make their life revolve around their family and friends, not healthy but it works. But Kara feels responsibility over an entire world of lost people and lives. So the amount she overcompensates is ungodly. She does have the weight of worlds on her shoulders. This is not a joke or hyperbole. Its just her life. And thats so fucking shitty. And to have someone actually see that and acknowledge it. To make it a reality so to speak. Then to have them say “yeah you look good like this” while you’re a shaking Atlas being crushed. It is just a little too much isn’t it? That pain to have someone see you finally, and then completely miss the point. For them to go “oh wow your so strong. your so brave” instead of “let me help you. you shouldn’t have to do this at all, forget by yourself. But now I am here”.

I imagine this was the scene that crowned my darling himbo boy Mon-Hell? Which is so unfortunate. I hope Im wrong, but I feel that his character might just end up a big missed opportunity

I want everyone to know that me and Kel screamed through the entire enxt few seconds of the scene. We knew the kiss was coming from how they were building it up. But god was it painful, especially for it to be delivered after a line like THAT. But yeah very loud angry screaming

Also not to be that bitch but Kara and Mon-els scene was a total of 1:53 RT, and Kara and Lenas ran at a 1:57 RT. Just sayin...

No Lena don’t be evil thats too sexy...

Okay but the way that Lena just tricks Lillian is so good. Shes so clever. And added bonus she makes her ask for her help, which is nice actually. Lillian's obvious vice is weakness and that is often shown in embarrassment. A woman like this asking for help borders that line of weakness and its nice to see on such a dislikable character. Lena didn’t just get what she wanted she got a point over her mother.

Lena looks good in the purple coat. Repeat she is pretty

Love the mental chess game between Lena and Lillian. Lena offering help right off the bat and giving her the isotope free of charge. And then Lillian making Lena launch the virus to prove herself. Good stuff.

Kara appears: don’t do it Lena!

Lena: why not? im a luthor

Okay so obviously Lena switched the Isotope and the Virus won’t work. But thats what makes this line so perfect. Throwing it back in Supergirls face. Like “Yeah, Im a luthor. And Ill show you what im capable of.” But instead of mass death and destruction Lena saves the day. She saved thousands of lives, and its because shes a Luthor that she was able to do that. Really nice way to full circle that

Wow Lillian really just starts booking it without Lena, huh? bitch

I really love the scene of the virus falling all around National City. The choice of an orangish snow falling was a really really good one. Paired with some excellent music for the mid season finale.

Its sad but I do love Hank just being ready and at peace with death. Im sure he misses his wife and daughters.

Okay but Lena calling the cops is tea. Send your mom to jail honey.

So we’re really not gonna talk about how Lena saved everyones asses? Like don’t you think Supergirl would want to talk to the woman that A) kind of tricked her, and B) saved National City. Thats just what makes sense??? But no we’re going to ignore that the DEO is a kind of shit at their job sometimes. And that the woman that they were accusing of having a part to play in all the xenophobic shit is the one who did their job. BY HER SELF.

Okay rant over. This was a long one review dear god. Really really good episode though. I enjoyed rewatching all the scenes even if it was a mixed bag of feelings. Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed all the screaming!

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green-spear-of-causality · 5 years ago

Note

“You’re overthinking– I’m yours. That’s all I want to be.” and none other than Cu Chulainn

//Because I'm a really big dumbass, this is long overdue. @coldpalaceee, I'm sorry if this isn't as good as it deserves to be...I am loving these prompts, and I hope I haven't deterred you from requesting more! (...God I work slow - )

------

I'm overreacting.

...Well, that wasn't new, was it? You had always been shy, and awkward, and clumsy, and just so many things you knew you weren't good at or lacked.

The fact that you knew you were overreacting made it ten times worse.

You stared at your boyfriend, the one and only Cú Chulainn, who was making small talk with the (pretty attractive) waiter as you both waited for your meals. You weren't at a fancy restaurant, no; your poor heart couldn't take the stifling formality that came with going to fancy places.

You tended to avoid them like the plague.

So, once you brought it up that you wanted to go somewhere with Cú that wasn't a fancy place, he patted your head and gave you a sun-filled grin that temporarily made your anxiety dissipate. He was always good with that, the comfort; it was like he knew exactly what to do when you clammed up or started to get lost in your own thoughts, resulting in you making more mistakes on whatever you were doing.

You both decided to go to an out-of-the-way cafe, the very same one where you two first met.

He had done so much for you already. Time and time again, he went out of his way to make you comfortable. You honestly wondered why he even wanted to hang around you, much less date you.

So, you presented the idea of this particular outing to him as a treat.

You were supposed to be the one making him feel good. You were supposed to be the one to make him feel comfortable.

He's been talking to this waiter for five minutes... Your gaze became downcast, eyes boring holes into the menu in front of you. You could hear the waiter laugh at a particular joke, one you recognized Cú telling you not even a week ago.

Despite the swirling unease in your stomach, you slightly smiled. Cú always had a tendency to tell other people stuff he learned with excitement that could affect even the most depressed person. He's like a puppy; it's...cute.

Not that you'd ever call him a puppy to his face.

" -ight, (Y/N)?"

"H-Huh?" Your gaze snapped back up to Cú, who was waiting for an answer. You scratched the back of your head, sheepish. "Sorry...what did you say?"

He gave you an odd look, repeating his question. "I said that this cafe is always a treat to go back to, right?"

You blinked, answering with a question of your own. "Was-...Was that supposed to be a pun?"

Now it was Cú's turn to blink, pondering for a fee moments. He then chuckled, the light sound making you smile as butterflies danced in your stomach. "I guess it was! I mean, the sweets here are incredible."

His eyes searched around the cafe, and your traitorous mind whispered that he was waiting for that extroverted waiter to come back, because unlike you they could keep a steady conversation with him without tripping over their own words like the failure they are -

"(Y/N)."

You returned your focus to Cú at his tone, a small frown on your face. The odd look was back on his face as crimson orbs scrutinized you. "What's wrong?"

You tensed. "Wh- ...Uh, nothing's wr- "

"Don't lie to me, (Y/N)." The intensity of his stare was still there, but now some exasperation was mixed into it. "You always occupy your hands with something when there's something on your mind."

Sure enough, you looked down to see that you were playing with the strings of your black hoodie. You had chosen dull colors so that you didn't stand out, while Cú wore a yellow sweatshirt and light blue jeans that you, admittedly, was better than the eye-damaging but endearing Hawaiian shirt he always had on hand; he stood out, and you blended in.

You wanted to scream. No! This was supposed to be the outing where you looked after Cú and coddled him, reassuring him with soft words and hand holding and so much more -

But you messed it up, like always, and he should honestly just dump your stupid ass already.

"O-Oi, I didn't mean to make you upset by that!" Cú had searched for a way to reassure you, since you looked tense enough to simply break at the slightest misstep. "It's just...I want to know what you're thinking, that's all. What's up?"

Your mind raced a mile a minute. Okay, you were definitely overreacting, but you couldn't stop yourself from spiralling further. Your mouth decided to betray you by blurting out, "Why are you even here?"

Ouch. You scrambled for a remedy, but it was too late. You watched a flicker of hurt cross his face before the confusion set in, and at this point you were mortified.

"I-I mean - !" You spoke frantically, frustrated with yourself. Why did you say it like that? Of course he got the wrong idea! Your hands balled into fists, pausing their motions.

Everything was falling apart, and it was because you couldn't muster up even a scrap of courage to tell him properly.

"I phrased that wrong. Oh god, I didn't - I didn't mean - "

"(Y/N)." You looked up. Cú gave an exasperated huff, but he was smiling. "Seriously, it's cool. I understand; just chill out for a sec, and tell me when you're ready."

"Why?!"

Your second outburst shocked him. He opened his mouth to continue, but you weren't waiting for a response; you figured hey, may as well drive the stake in further.

"Cú, you're so...vibrant. You're vibrant, understanding, way smarter than Gilgamesh gives you credit for, exuberant, witty, confident, encouraging, endearing, and just...so much more. Looking at you is like looking at a literal miniature sun, because you stand out and despite the odds being stacked against you, you somehow manage to find the silver lining in a bleak situation.

"Meanwhile, I'm...not nearly as amazing. I'm pretty forgettable in a sea of faces, I'm quiet, awkward, clumsy, I make at least seven mistakes each day, insecure, overbearing, bad with words, and I'm nowhere near as confident as you are. I usually bring the mood down, and I have low self-esteem."

Cú really looked like he wanted to say something, but was restraining himself. You continued, not seeming to notice his struggle.

"Seeing you talk to the waiter from before made me realize that I...I could never be as good as you. Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't know why you're dating me when there's other people like the waiter who could easily hold a conversation with you. There's so many wonderful people out there who would be better, and I always screw things up and cause you more trouble than you need since you always have so much on your plate already - "

"I chose you."

"Hah?" You stopped, gaze snapping back up to meet his. Cú's eyes were narrowed, his mouth a thin line as he glared.

You swallowed. Did...Did you just piss off the Cú Chulainn?

"I chose you." He repeated. "You, and no one else. Honestly, (Y/N), what am I going to do with you?"

You closed your mouth, a pained expression quickly making itself known on your face. Yet again, you made him comfort you instead of the other way around -

"Since you don't see what I do, I'm gonna have to pound it into that pretty little head of yours." Pink dusted across your cheeks as his irritated expression gave way to the grin you knew belonged to him and only him. It was sharp and wild, yet filled with so much glee and kindness that you slowly began to unwind your tightly balled hands.

"Yeah, you may be all of those things, but so what?"

"...Huh?" You peered at him, dumbfounded. Didn't...Didn't that just prove your point?

"Nope, it's my turn to talk." Cú held up a hand, and you vaguely registered your food being put in front of you and a "Have a nice day" in favor of listening to your boyfriend.

"If a human didn't have their flaws, then they wouldn't be human, now would they?" He continued. "Which, by the way, I find yours adorable. You're sarcastic and witty once you get enough confidence, mischievous, think more with your brain than rely on instinct, and you have such a big heart that there's no way a sane person could hate you.

"(Y/N), you look around and you see so much more than I think I could ever, and then the most breathtaking look gets into your eye as you appreciate what you're seeing. The best part is that it happens randomly; what I wouldn't look twice at, you take into your hands and go over it with a lot of care. You'd think that you were holding a baby bird with a broken wing from how you hold things. You have bursts of optimism that come and go, and when they do it's hard to even get mad at you.

"Most of all, (Y/N), you...ground me." He scratched his cheek lightly, looking over to the side.

You gaped. Was he...embarrassed? Each compliment had you sinking further in your chair, hands covering your beet red face.

"Yeah, you bring the mood down, but...not in the way you think. Ah, damnit, why is this so hard to say?! ...You're calming, and you help me not get too carried away with whatever the hell I'm doing. Imagining myself without you here is impossible at this point."

"Cú, just -...just stop, goddamnit," You groaned into your hands, wanting nothing more than to melt into a puddle and evaporate. "I-I get it, you love me. But...why the compliments?"

Cú rolled his eyes, leaning over to pry your hands away and giving you a quick but loving peck on your forehead. "Like I said, I had to beat it into your skull somehow. Don't you ever think that you're not worthy, or some dumb bullshit like that. Despite my flirting, I'm a loyal guy; I wouldn't leave you."

You stared at him. "Loyal...like how you were staring at that one couple's asses on the way here."

You didn't even realize that you didn't stutter through that entire sentence. Cú laughed at your retort, at least having some bit of shame to look sheepish. "What? When you see an ass that doesn't lie, you can't help but admire it."

"Cú!" You were laughing at this point too (since he was right - their asses were fine), but you still lightly punched his shoulder from across the table.

He grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. "There's the (Y/N) I know and love."

You spluttered. "Cú Chulainn, I swear if you say one more sappy thing - "

He reached over to hold your hand, making you pause. "Yeah, about earlier? You're overthinking - I'm yours. That's all I want to be."

This time, you were the one to lean over the table (and your untouched food) to kiss him.

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alwayssunnyprompts · 6 years ago

Text

They Say We are Asleep (Until We Fall in Love)

He’s lying on his back in Mac’s bed, and the weight of the universe seems to be pushing down on his chest. Like his body is the only thing stopping the sky from crumbling, crashing down into the earth.

Dennis tries to avoid making eye contact with Mac as much as he can, but his energy is palpable, his arm pressed up against Dennis’, his eyes warm and kind, crinkled up into the gentle expression that Dennis sees far too much these days.

He’s eagerness and excitement and something else entirely, something too thunderous and precious and dangerous to name and suddenly everything is too small, too closed in, too tight to hold it all.

Dennis feels too small for it, too.

The pressure of Mac’s arm almost hurts, the contact simultaneously awakening and shutting down every inch of him. His eyes flick over to Mac for a split second and something explodes in him, and he needs to snuff it out.

He shifts his hips uncomfortably and his skin starts to prickle as his body is overcome with the restless need to move, to escape. The sense of claustrophobia is closing in, the pressure so dense and heavy and he needs to do something or he’ll scream. But everything in him is so tangled and dark and confused that he barely even knows what he’s feeling.

So when he starts talking, he doesn’t really know where it’s coming from. What he’s talking about. His mouth quivers.

“W-what is this, man? What are we doing? I-I don’t wanna do this anymore, can we stop?” The words tumble out like one rushed sentence and once they’re free he doesn’t know if he regrets breaking the silence. But they’re...quiet. Honest. More honest than anything he’s said in a long time.

Mac’s smile fades.

“Huh?”

Dennis breathes heavily, trying not to panic at the wound he’s opened within himself. The vulnerability disgusts him, makes his head spin and his brain feel like it’s swallowing him whole. It’s so deeply wrong. Violent. Raw. Overwhelming.

“No, no, we can’t stop now! We’re right on track.” Mac’s voice is so soft and caring that Dennis wants to rip his hair out. His body is ablaze with the need to act out.

Why is Mac pushing him? Why is he being so...supportive? It doesn’t make sense.

And maybe he doesn’t just mean the scheme. This whole situation feels off. An achingly familiar feeling of detachment washes over him. This doesn’t feel right at all. He’s struck, suddenly, with the realization that this—trying so hard for what essentially amounted to a one-night stand with a woman he couldn’t give a shit about if he tried—doesn’t feel right anymore. In fact, he doesn’t feel much of anything anymore, and none of the old vices—sex, drugs, alcohol—quite fill the void like they used to. Maybe the void has gotten bigger, deeper, more inescapable. Maybe giving in is inevitable, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s just...exhausted. Absolutely exhausted.

“I don’t know, man. I just...it just feels like a lot of effort. If feels desperate, you know what I mean? Like...I never put this much work into banging some cute meat.”

It’s not a lie so much as it’s a twisting of the facts. Truthfully, the effort he’d put into D.E.N.N.I.S-ing countless women hadn’t felt like effort, hadn’t felt hard, hadn’t seemed nearly impossible and grueling because, at the time, he’d convinced himself that’s what he wanted. And maybe he had wanted it. At the very least, he thought he did. But none of it ever filled the hole in him, just quieted down the echo of its emptiness for a short time. Now, even the thought of trying to impress some random woman is torturous. It feels forced, it feels meaningless. After all, he isn’t going to spend his life with any of them, that much is clear.

He hears Mac shift on the bed, moving to sit up, confusion in his voice.

“Cute meat?”

A flush of embarrassment heats Dennis’ face, pulls him back from the edge for a moment.

“‘Cute meat,’” he fires back immediately, trying to keep it light. “That was your phrase.”

“No, Dennis. ‘Meet-Cute.’”

“It has a name, Mac. Its name is Lisa.”

He tries to humanize her, but even that comes out flat. He thinks that maybe saying her name will drum up some feelings, awaken some long-dormant drive, but it doesn’t. He feels nothing for this woman. And she has a husband, who is staying in their home. There are so many facets of Mac’s plan that have fallen apart that it’s hardly a scheme anymore. They’re just renting out his room to a nice couple for some cash. Anything else is a pipe dream. The hope of him finding love with this woman is a fantasy at best. Upsettingly, he is deeply relieved by the thought, a considerable weight lifting from his chest.

Mac grins, and a place deep inside of Dennis thaws. He hates how reactive his body is to Mac sometimes, how Mac seems to instinctively know how to smooth his jagged edges. He isn’t even trying to. He just does. Dennis isn’t even sure Mac is conscious that he has this power. In fact, he’s positive he isn’t. Mac is nothing if not absolute garbage at interpreting other people’s feelings. Yet, even through his obliviousness, he’s blindingly bright in all of the ways Dennis needs him to be, in all of the ways he hates and reveres and tries desperately to ignore.

So when Dee knocks and shatters the moment with her squawking, he jumps at the opportunity to remove himself from this situation. His mind is already calming down, his heart rate slowing to a more normal rhythm. As he curls up on the couch, comfortably cool and finally, blessedly, alone, he finds himself wondering, for just a second, what it would have been like to wake up with Mac’s arms around him.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Mac winks at him. A dramatic and childish gesture, but sends Dennis’ stomach plummeting. He feels his practiced disgust for only a second before the feeling morphs and flutters back into his chest, igniting there. Its pleasantness is undeniable. He smiles. It’s hesitant and small and mostly unintentional, but it’s happened before he can force himself not to. He’d missed this, this flow with Mac. Their easy rhythm. Everything can feel so easy with him, so manageable. It feels like coming home. He blinks, adjusts his face, and pulls the feelings back before they become too obvious. Thank God Mac has turned away from him, leaning towards his bedroom door.

“Now, the plan is in motion for you.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What do you mean the plan is in motion for me? I thought I was out.” He wishes his hands would stop shaking, it’s very distracting. The surface of his coffee ripples and sways, betraying the movement. He shoves a hand in his pocket, forcing the other to grip the mug tighter.

“Remember when we were saying that the female romantic lead would never cheat?”

“Uh-huh,” he responds, needing an explanation immediately. He tries to take a deep breath but it comes out as a forceful huff, and he definitely doesn’t feel any better.

“Well, I overheard Lisa saying to Greg that she, ‘Misses Teddy.’ Huh? Why would she tell Greg that she misses the guy she cheated with?” He lets the information sink in for less than half a second before continuing, “Unless, she didn’t cheat on him with Teddy. Maybe Teddy is a platonic friend from high school that makes Greg jealous.”

Dennis feels his face heating up, takes a small sip of coffee to try and ground himself.

“Don’t you know what this means? Lisa is still a romantic lead, which means?”

He’s staring at Dennis expectantly.

He realizes that Mac has cued him up to answer the question. Everything in him is screaming stop. It takes a Herculean effort for him not to actually scream, biting his tongue in an attempt to use the pain to distract from the urge.

Mac is smiling.

Dennis feels sick. His head is pounding furiously, his heart joining in on the relentless rhythm. His palms are sweaty. He wants to be left alone, but absolutely cannot be alone right now. He wants to yell at Mac but he doesn’t want Mac out of his sight and he’s just so tired. The wildfire in his chest is kept from destroying him only by the wave of numb indifference blanketing his body.

But Mac is smiling.

He already knows the answer, but he needs to say it.

“I’m still your leading man.”

A death sentence from his very own lips.

He wants to go to sleep.

“Yeah!”

He glances at Mac, tearing his eyes away as quickly as he can. The hole inside him is cavernous. Any semblance of peace he’d found in abandoning the scheme shatters. Dull, cold dread settles in the pit of his stomach, and in a hazy sort of hysteria he imagines what would happen if he actually did vomit on the rug, right here, right now. Mac would probably take care of him. The thought soothes and sickens him in equal measure.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Now this is your moment, Mac,” he whispers urgently. “Just remember, speak from the heart. Sweep him off his feet.”

He feels nervous. Why does he feel nervous? He’s barely involved in this plan, all he has to do is control the music. He can do that. It’s one button.

Maybe they should have rehearsed or something. Greg didn’t need to be here at all for that. In fact, his patience has worn thin concerning this whole thing, and he just wants them out of his home. He could coach Mac through a romantic speech just as easily without them around to intrude. And as Mac starts talking, Dennis wishes that Greg would just leave. He doesn’t deserve to hear this.

The sudden urge to cut out the middleman stops him in his tracks, and he becomes acutely aware of the situation he finds himself in. He feels too conscious of everything, the pressure of the air on his skin, the rough hems of his shirtsleeve on his forearms, the edge of the counter against his back. He is standing in the kitchen of his apartment, of their apartment, listening to Mac profess his love to a perfect stranger. A man that means nothing to him. A man that doesn’t even know him at all.

He should feel more jealous than he does.

It’s a realization that he doesn't the mental energy to process, so he shoves it down.

What distracts him from the treacherous thoughts, from the heated fire of jealousy, are the gentle waves of contentment washing over him as he listens to Mac speak, loud and passionate and ridiculous. His eyes slide shut for a few seconds and lets the words warm him, lets them echo through him. Imagines that he and Mac are alone, like they’ve always been–the Dynamic Duo, the two of them against the world. The evening would be golden and hazy, they'd be a little too drunk and way too close together on the couch. Mac’s words would be hushed, and he’d hang on to every lilt, every pause, every soft giggle as Mac inched closer, closing what infinitesimal space was left between them. He would finally feel held, finally feel at peace, a little less breakable, a little more fragile.

He’s dangerously lost in the fantasy, and he’s just about to force himself out when–

“Teddy was our son.”

“He died of leukemia.”

The music.

“Oh, you know what, let me–”

He feels half asleep as he scrambles for the CD player, and shit, his hands aren't cooperating, and his brain is partly stuck on Mac’s words and partly stuck on dead kid, and he compromises by skipping through the rest of the playlist before slamming the pause button.

“S-sorry. I don’t have a–uh–dead kid appropriate…”

Jesus Christ. The gravity of the situation still isn’t hitting. He’s stuck in the limbo of the emotional whiplash he just experienced, and thank god Mac is here, because he could not handle the rest of the conversation. He’s speaking, but his mind is somewhere else.

“I guess we’re not gonna get that romantic comedy ending after all,” Mac says, and something about that breaks through to him.

He hates this. He’s been miserable for days as he humored Mac’s plan, trying to make him happy, to distract him. Maybe this was how Mac felt all the times he's tried to cater to his every whim. It’s exhausting.

“Mac?”

He tries not to let his voice tremble.

Mac approaches him, concern on his face.

“I’m sorry, Dennis. We can try again, find a different woman, make sure she’s single this time! I can change the plan and it’ll be good as new, you know I’m very adaptable—��

“Mac.”

“Yeah?” He perks up, a tiny, involuntary smile playing on his lips. Mac’s smiles have a way of reaching his eyes no matter how small or quick, no trace of insincerity or forced emotion no matter how hard Dennis searched his face. Dennis has spent hours of his life seeing Mac smile, and not once has it seemed disingenuous. It’s almost admirable.

The smile fades though, back into Mac’s most common expression around him—loving concern, a touch of confusion. He’s taken too long to respond.

“I don’t... I don’t want that. You don’t need to keep–” his voice is thick with emotion, his throat feels raw and tight. He just wants Mac to hear him. He doesn’t want to have to say it.

“You okay, man?”

Something about the question ignites his anger. How does Mac not understand? How can he be so oblivious to how he’s feeling? He is not okay. Everything feels so loud, so strong, that its unthinkable that someone wouldn’t notice. He should stop, he should close his mouth and go to his room and try not to be too loud when he breaks down. But his mouth is moving ahead of his brain.

“No, Mac. I’m not.”

The words carry a weight that hangs heavy over the room. They’ve been true for so long that he doesn’t even feel better for finally saying them.

Mac’s face fills with glossy-eyed worry, his hand reaching out instinctively, maybe with the intention of checking his temperature, maybe just to rest on his shoulder, but he thinks better of it. Mac’s expression urges him to continue.

“L-look...you said you had that...that thing inside of you. Remember?”

He nods, squinting.

“Well...with me it’s–” he breathes heavily, “it’s different. I’m empty. I have this...hole inside of me that I can’t fill. And it’s so deep that it aches.”

“Maybe–”

“I’m not like you, Mac.” There isn’t any hostility in his voice. He’s too tired.

“Well...maybe the thing inside of me can fill the thing inside of you.”

Everything is suspended in a thick layer of silence and time seems to wind to a stop.

Mac steps forward. Dennis flinches, but doesn’t run away. Mac’s leaning towards him and his fight or flight isn’t kicking in. Something is wrong, but it isn’t. His stomach is turning and his heart is racing and he thinks he might pass out. Mac presses his lips to Dennis’, and something unlocks in him. He can’t control himself, can’t help but melt under Mac’s touch.

“Fuck you,” he breathes into Mac’s mouth. “Fuck you.”

“It’s okay,” Mac says, breathless and awed.

“It hurts, Mac,” he whispers. “It hurts.”

“I know,” he says.

He pauses, presses a kiss to Dennis’ forehead.

Reaches down to take his hand.

“Let me help.”

#I am overwhelmed by this episode to this day #Dennis is in love with Mac and Mac is oblivious but also deeply in love with Dennis?#also Dennis absolutely pretended Mac was talking to him instead of Greg you cannot change my mind #they kissed and that's why Mac is back to trying to do whatever Dennis wants by the time Chokes comes around #and that's why dennis is reluctantly accepting their relationship #send help #iasip #its always sunny #iasip fic #mac mcdonald #dennis reynolds #macdennis #the gang gets romantic #prompts #writing #god it's been a while I hope you guys like it #its always sunny in philadelphia

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twilightbimbo · 5 years ago

Text

Solstice pt 1: Twilight AU

This is an expansion of the Twilight universe with my OC characters!

home is where the heart is

and i’m afraid

i’ve lost my way

Samson

“Why do you think you’ll win? I know when you’re bluffing,” I chided, laughing. Esther rolled her eyes with mild amusement. Esther is the most competitive one in our family and she always tries to best me in poker, despite the fact that I have the gift for sniffing out inauthenticity.

“‘Cus you suck at poker,” Esther pulled up the corner of her lips in a slight smirk and laid out her winning hand.

“Har har,” I huffed in frustration. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I realized what was happening. “You assholes!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, the cards of Esther’s winning hand became fuzzy and resembled a glitching computer monitor and then smoothed out into her true, losing hand. I looked up at Esther who was nearly hysterical, tears in her golden eyes from laughing and clutching Chip’s arm.

“Sorry, brother,” Chip smiled softly and brushed a lock that fell out of Esther’s bun and brushed it behind her ear. I booed loudly and pushed the deck of cards off the dining table between Esther and me in mock anger.

“Clean that up, Sam,” Sunny said to me without even looking in my direction as she walked past with a basket of laundry. Sunny liked to blend in more than the rest of us. “Keeps us humble,” is one of her favorite phrases. Sunny is the matriarch of our family, even though she is the youngest of us. Technically.

“Sam, if you couldn’t cheat, you would be terrible at poker,” Stella yelled from her upstairs bedroom. Stella didn’t need to yell, she could even whisper it and we would be able to hear her. But, Sunny forces us to act human at all times, even in our own house. Where no one can see us. Or hear us. Sunny’s word is law.

Nathalia

If I was human, I would be panting from running this hard and far. Actually, if I was human I couldn’t run like this at all. I still let air rush in and out of my lungs naturally, tasting the forest around me. I had been feeling the urge to see the ocean lately. I miss home. But, I can’t go back there for a lot of reasons. Mainly because it’s always sunny down there. So, the Oregon coast is perfect for my needs, it’s overcast here the majority of the time. And it felt familiar here, the beach was always a constant for me until I died.

I have been on the run for three years. That is so dramatic to say, but it’s true. I’ve been through nearly all of California, eastern Oregon, and about every rural area in Washington. I haven’t been around the general public in what seems like forever. If forever means three years and three hundred and sixty-two days. I’ve missed normalcy. I’ve missed being able to call a place my own. I miss belonging to something.

The trees began to clear as the river widened and gray light bled between the branches above as they became more sparse. I slowed down into a more relaxed jog, my damp hair starting to cling from my shoulders all the way to the small of my back. I relaxed my pace completely as I could see the river desperately reaching the ocean, letting my bare feet sink into the mossy and wet forest floor. I walked slowly until the ground turned into sand. I tilted my face up towards the sky and let the gentle rain kiss my face.

The waves crashing is familiar and it eased some of my longing. Longing? God, I’ve become so pretentious. In my human life, I couldn’t stand being alone for longer than hours and now I’ve gone years. I guess loneliness changes you.

While I was roaming in Washington, I heard there were vampires who tried to pretend to be humans and go to school and stuff. I was transformed only a year after I graduated high school and I didn’t get the chance to go to college. I had my eyes on the University of California, Los Angeles. But, here I am. Not alive, but also alive. On a beach. In the middle of fucking nowhere.

“Hey! Aren’t you cold?” A voice called out to me from down the beach. I’ve been practicing for this. I turned my head slowly, trying to be careful of the speed of my movements. I looked down at myself briefly. I was wearing a thin, gray sweater with jeans. And barefoot. It’s probably in the low forties right now and getting colder. So much for attempting to blend in. I looked back at their direction and while I was definitely too far away, I smiled tentatively at them.

“Got thick skin!” I yelled back, shrugging. The person behind the voice was an older man, the wind carried his scent towards me. I could smell the warm blood and as he slowly approached me, I could hear his faint heartbeat. It would be too easy. In half a second I would be right in front of him, pushing his head back to expose his neck. His red cap would fall off and in my frenzy, I would probably tear apart his windbreaker. Blood on the sand. My eyes red.

Nope, nope, nope. I’ve gone three years without tasting human blood. I’m not going to fuck this up now. I turned on my heel and went back to the forest, as soon as I was certain I was covered by the thick swarm of trees I took off sprinting.

Where am I supposed to go now? I need to get better clothes to blend in. I need to find a place to live. “Live”. To be frank, I had it pretty easy. I never had to worry about this kind of stuff. In the distance, I can hear cars sporadically driving on the wet pavement. If there are cars, there are people and if there are people, there are clothing stores and libraries. I changed my direction in order to run parallel to the highway giving myself about a half a mile distance between me and the road.

It wasn’t much longer, maybe twenty miles or so before I saw neon light tinge the fog and the smell of car exhaust got stronger. Smelled disgusting. I thought about how I would be able to wander into some random mom and pop shop to get clothes without sticking out. I’ve been practicing my self control but it’s much easier when I hold my breath. How can I go without talking to the small town locals without seeming like a bitch? I guess the only thing I can do is hope what they say about first impressions isn’t true.

Luckily enough for me, the river, which had dwindled down to a creek, ran close enough to the highway so I could wash my feet and legs so I could look less dirty and homely. Unfortunately, about every person I passed stared at me. Everyone has dressed appropriately for the wintery beach weather. Except for me.

The first clothing shop that looked like it could have clothes for people “my age” and nearly completely empty was the first one I walked into. I bought nearly everything. Well, bought is a loose term. It was about four days after my transformation that I realized I had an ability. A “super talent” he called it. If I want someone to do something I want, they do it. It’s never something intense like falling in love with me or giving me their kidney or anything like that. It’s small stuff like if I want their approval I got it. If I want their coffee, they hand it over. Small stuff like that.

The shopkeeper handed over around six hundred dollars in merchandise with a bright smile on her face. I made a mental note to make an anonymous donation as soon as possible. Sometimes I felt bad about swindling people, sometimes I felt like it was a necessary evil. A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.

It wasn’t that hard finding the library after the shops, and lucky for me, the librarian allowed me to stash my shopping bags behind her desk. The public computer whirred to life slowly, I could practically hear the viruses worming around. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, or even where. I tried local listings, Craigslist, even some dark web shit. It wasn’t until I caved and made a fake Facebook account that I was able to find a single bedroom apartment to rent.

The man who owned the place was rather kind. I hardly had to use my ability to sway him to let me live rent free for the next foreseeable future. His name was Ernie and he had quite the beer belly and a bald spot on the back of his head, reminding me vaguely of a freshly cracked egg. I assume that he felt quite flattered that I was flirting with him. Actually, it could have been the innate human experience of being my prey who is inevitably lured to his death by my inhuman womanly charm. Who could say?

The apartment was painfully small but fully furnished. I couldn’t say if it was fully furnished as a part of the lease, which I did not have, or my newfound landlord was just too caught up in our conversation. I’ve been told I dazzle people. Whatever that means. A large full length mirror hung in the bedroom and I took a full look at myself for the first time in a long time.

My dirty blonde hair was a mess. I think I can see a dread forming in the curly mess. My black eyes peered back at me in disbelief, how could I let myself go like this? Dark circles clung around my eyes covering the splatter of freckles on my face, I looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks. More like years, I chuckled to myself. I need to feed soon. An uncommitted corner of my mind thought aimlessly about what animals are in my vicinity. The other portion of my mind looked back in the mirror. I still was pale as before, still more beautiful than I ever was as a human. It’s weird, feeling this conceited but it was true. My very nature was to lure humans in, even more so with my ability. I can get humans to literally lay before me, neck exposed. But, I promised myself a while ago to never feed on humans again.

This place was definitely not intended to be left fully furnished, a laptop laid on the desk in my new bedroom. I realized I never learned about this town before I decided on it. The ocean picked me. I wiped the laptop and set it up under my preferences. This time, password protected. My google search reminded me I’m currently in Brookings, Oregon. I had made a mental note earlier when I saw the welcome sign out of the corner of my eye on my way into town.

Oh, perfect! I exclaimed internally. There is a local community college that happened to offer marine biology courses. Marine biology was my intended major before this happened to me. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe I’m being an idiot and making stupid choices by surrounding myself with humans. But, honestly, I’m lonely and I don’t think I can take this punishment much longer.

Part 2

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pendragonfics · 6 years ago

Text

(the man) across the hall

Paring: Markus/Reader

Tags: gender-neutral reader, gender-neutral pronouns, alternate universe - modern setting, Markus’s last name is Manfred, Leo Manfred is a racist, domestic fluff, slow build, angst and hurt/comfort, threats of violence, gun violence, angst with a happy ending

Summary: The apartment opposite was always a home to someone. The fact that nobody ever stayed long made for a tradition of regular baking, practicing the welcome speech, looking forward to who was coming afterward even before the newcomers had settled in.

Word Count: 3,265

Current Date: 2019-10-14

Tagged: @angelwrote

The apartment opposite was always a home to someone. The fact that nobody ever stayed long made for a tradition of regular baking, practicing the welcome speech, looking forward to who was coming afterward even before the newcomers had settled in. Not that you’d been in your apartment long; two years in your little nook just outside of the city centre of Detroit was one area of stability that kept your routine in check. Waking at dawn, drinking coffee darker than pitch, and working eleven-hour days down at a convenience store on the main street. And in the other thirteen hours of the day, that was for night school, and sleep.

You’re coming home after the long day of chasing shoplifters and deflecting strangers’ advances and stranger conversations, to find a newcomer in the apartment opposite. The door is wedged open with two textbooks on psychology, both thicker than your head, and there’s muffled music playing from the squeaky sound system of what you assume is an old phone. You’ve been awake too long, and your head is as heavy as a fire truck, but still, as you fumble for your keys, you spare a glance inside.

There’s the same furniture as the last tenant, but instead of a ratty throw over the couch, a cliché phrase cross-stitch framed on the wall, there are nice pillows and a calendar with art of American monuments. The month of October is somewhere in New England with autumn leaves and Halloween-esq art.

A man walks from the other room, and spies you as you manage to slot the right key in. He looks to be the same age as you and wears his locs with a patterned bandana, his hair cascading just above his shoulders. His eyes are two colours, but both light up as they meet your own.

“Hi, sorry, I’ll turn down the - I’m Markus Manfred,” he introduces. By the time he gets to his doorway, hand outstretched to shake, you’ve opened your door. But it’s then he realises you truly don’t have any hands free “Can I lend you a hand? Your hands look a little bit full.”

Your mind is empty, no words cued for the newcomer. You felt a rush of heat pool upon your face, neck and lower stomach, astonished at the politeness of your neighbour.

“I -,” you offer a bag of shopping to Markus, a small smile gracing your face, “yes, thank you so much.”

He helps you in and flicking the lights on, both of you move to kitchenette. It wasn’t a studio per se; the bathroom was small adjoining your room, and apart from that, there was room for your couch, and a bookshelf full of knickknacks.

“You know, you tell Markus. “I’m usually the one who welcomes people to their homes, not the other way around,”

“You know what they say, see a need…” he re-joined. “I’d hate to come off as an asshole.”

You take Markus in, head to toe. The only thing that screams “asshole!” about this man is the fact that he’s wearing a plain white tee tucked into his blue jeans, but other than that he looks every part as nice as the words that are coming from his mouth.

“Something tells you that you can’t be one of those,” you reply, and with your hands now free you place your hand in his. Not only is his demeanour warm, but slender fingers, too. “I’m _________. Welcome to the building.”

Markus beams, releasing your hand from his. His handshake had a good grip, and you swear as your mind lingers on his surname that it is vaguely familiar. You can’t place a finger on it. Perhaps you read it in one of the newspapers at the store or heard it in the news. At the moment you hesitate, Markus moves to help unload your bags, and you watch him, somewhat flabbergasted, somewhat ashamed of being aided.

“I can do that, please,” you shoo him from the bench, but the majority of the first bag is emptied. Markus watches you, his green and blue eyes following your own. “You’ve got your apartment to unpack, and besides, I’m making potato bake for you.”

“I can’t possibly -,” he begins.

“I always make food for neighbours on their first day…consider it repayment for helping me in.”

He goes to protest again but thinks twice. A hand in his pocket, he gives you a little smile, and it widens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, _________. Really.” He places his spare hand on your bench, and as he turns to return to his apartment.

“Are you allergic to anything?” you ask.

Over his shoulder, Markus calls out, “Just soy!” and closes the door behind him.

Though you’re tired as hell and quite frankly are behind on an assessment, you start at the potato bake, glad that you’ve met the newcomer. As you turn the oven on to preheat, you bite your lip, studying your reflection in the window. You have a good feeling about Markus Manfred; something tells you that that won’t be the last you hear from him.

---

It’s two weeks later, and your boss has finally hired another person at the shop. Her name is North (and she hates that Kimye made her name a thing) and though her uni schedule clashes with the store hours, it means you’re working shorter hours, more frequently. It feels weird to sleep in until nine, get ready, and then take over at twelve, to finish at six. While it’s costing your boss more to keep the convenience store open another hour, the sales more than compensate for the loss, and you’re coming home with more pep in your step.

It also means you have more time around the apartment for the first time since moving to Detroit; and more time for incidental meetings with Markus in the hallway.

You find out that he’s a social worker who got reassigned from New York City, that he painted most of the art that hangs in his apartment, and that his dad is Carl Manfred, i.e. the American painter of the century. You learn all this over various coffees shared on his, or your couch, spread over the weeks that passed since you first met. It’s amazing how much you’ve hit it off with him; last time you were somewhat this friendly with a neighbour was a year ago, with old Mr Kamski who had too many Persian cats - all named Chloe after his daughter who lived in Scandinavia - to count.

“So, you’re a social worker, saving kids’ lives, making a difference one day at a time,” you overstate, waving a hand in a general manner, the other cradling a cup of tea, “and make time for your passion, family, and mental health? Sounds fake, but okay.”

Markus laughs into his mug. “I suppose I’m the lucky few,” he says. “But what about you? You’re at the -,”

“Mini Mart, down on the main street.” You supply.

“- and when you’re not working, you’re here?” He motions around your apartment. Since the first night when you met Markus, you’ve had more time to tidy around the place and keep it that way. “I mean, it’s nice, but I refuse to believe that’s all there is to you.”

“I’m studying, actually,” you tell him. You place your mug on the coffee table, and add, leaning back into the couch, “Night school. I’m going to make something of myself.”

“Nurse?” he guesses.

“Doctor,” you correct, feeling a little bit proud. “I’ve always wanted to work in triage. It’s hard, but…”

“You know, _________, I can see you in that,” Markus remarks.

There’s a warmth in his eyes, and since you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve come to see it more often in his face. He goes to say something else, but you’re interrupted by the sound of someone pounding at the door. More specifically, not at your door.

He and you share a glance, confused, and as you unlock the door, you find a young man standing at Markus’ door. He’s shorter than you, with dusty brown hair, a hoodie and jeans with holes, and from what you can see, his skin is kind of pale that makes you wonder if he’s anaemic rather than descended from the Irish. He continues at bashing at the door, the side of his fist connecting with the door rather than knuckles.

“Leo?” Markus approached your side, incredulous.

The man turned around. He looked tired in the blue eyes beneath the black one, which was an ugly shade of puce. His lip was cracked, with recently dried blood smeared across his chin. He bared his teeth in imitation of a smile, locking eyes with Markus.

“It’s been a long time, brother,” He barked. It wasn’t his tone; his voice sounded dry, just as chapped as the skin around his lips. “What, no welcome? Who’s your friend?”

“They’re none of your concern,” Markus replies.

His eyes narrowed, and you watch as he stalks across the hallway to Leo, the man who called Markus his brother. You keep yourself in your arms, staying half-hidden in your own doorway, observing them both. Back when you first met Markus, you had skimmed a Wikipedia page for Carl Manfred as a sort of homework. Right now, watching the two men interact, you vaguely remembered reading about another son of his.

“Are you okay?” you ask, feeling a little hollow.

Even though you face people like Leo every day at work, it feels different, alien, to have an encounter - for Markus to have an encounter - at your home, your safe space.

He nods, but it doesn’t put you at ease. He lets Leo into his apartment, and as he closes his door, you do the same, and slide down it, sitting with your knees tucked in tight to your chest, heartbeat hammering in your ears. While the thoughts ran through your head, you felt your stomach drop, a fear that you hadn’t felt for a while taking root.

You hadn’t felt this way for anyone in a long time.

Later that night, you’re on the cusp of sleep after the evening worrying when your phone buzzes. Fast, you grasp at it, reading a preview of a text from Markus’ number on screen, and in a ballet of texting, you type back, until you stare at the last message he sends, your fingers lingering over the screen, and as you reply, feeling something you’re not used to.

---

It’s about a week later, and you haven’t really heard from Markus. To be fair, you’ve been bogged down in the coursework of your classes and being bumped up to supervisor by your boss. It’s one way that he’s fair but cruel; the pay isn’t that much different, and it means you’re around to either lock up or open when he’s not around.

You saw Markus for five minutes in the hallway, as he was returning from work, you off to it, and apart from the fact that he looked quite handsome in his grey hoodie, you barely shared words. From what you overheard through the walls was that Leo was still around.

It didn’t make you feel any better. You sure didn’t sleep well at night.

But that could just be because of your shitty mattress, you thought, massaging your back idly. It’s a slow night, with customers few and far between. It might be because of the weather, or the night; it’s bucketing down on an idle Tuesday evening, the sunset to leave the post-daylight hour left to the imagination, or consultation of a clock. Usually, customers come in to escape the rain, but seeing it’s well after rush hour, you’re just as tired as the last patron - fifteen minutes ago, in such a rush they didn’t say please and thank you or look you in the eye - and want to close up.

Alas, there’s half an hour to go.

There’s only so many times you can clean a cleaned bench, face up the snacks when they haven’t been touched, tidy up the change in the register until it looks immaculate. You give one of the security cameras in the corner of the room a half-hearted smile, knowing that the boring night wouldn’t be glanced at on tape.

That was when it happened.

You heard a bang, and turning to the noise, you saw, almost too late, the window shatter, and a car plough through the front doors of the store. You dove below the register, but it was a reaction, and you felt the sting of flying glass. But the car kept going, and defiant of structures, the roaring engine forced its way further into the store, ramming into the bench you hid behind.

You’d seen enough movies to know what was going to happen next, but still, it shocked you when a single hand pulled you upwards by the back of your shirt. Manhandled, you stared at a poorly made balaclava and handgun.

Your hands were slow, the side of your arm staring to bleed from where it caught glass, but you didn’t feel it. You trembled, feeling the gun pressed against your head, heart racing so fast that you felt like a piñata that would break all by itself. You passed the bills to the robber holding you, fearful, afraid. The gun was still pressed, albeit not as hard, but no matter what, there was a gun, and it was at you. You’d never liked them and weren’t about to start liking them now.

“A-are you going t-to kill me?” you stammered.

The man behind the balaclava smirked, that much you could see. He let go of the back of your shirt, stuffing the money into a bag a cartoon villain or the Monopoly Man and looked you in the eye. They were blue and wild, and you caught your breath as soon as you recognised the voice of the guy holding you, and the store at gunpoint.

“I could,” Leo taunted.

Even if he did, there was a button under the counter. Your boss had installed it in hopes of it not being used because he was the kind of man who’d do the bare minimum to save his ass. You managed to snag it; fingers pressed in as soon as you started talking. It was against the training, stalling a theft, because it meant you were at stake as opposed to the items being thieved, but in your fear, in your anguish of realising it was Markus’ brother behind the mask, all of that made you do it.

The whines of police arriving made Leo freeze, and he hesitated, caught between fight or flight. The car he had bludgeoned the storefront with was totalled, and his finger hovered over the trigger, one spasm away from your certain doom. But that didn’t come. The last you saw was the butt of the gun come down on your head.

You came to on the back of an ambulance.

The paramedic had wrapped you in a shock blanket, fussing over your superficial wounds. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol wipe that brought you to, or that you heard your name. But when you look, there’s nobody you know. It’s a haze but you see your boss has been dragged out at the late hour, and there are so many flashing lights and people talking around you, at you, to you that you’re not sure if it is your head wound or an oncoming migraine.

They let you go after you stop shaking.

---

When you get home, you can’t hear any ambient noise. It’s eerie, almost, but then again, before Markus moved in, it was the norm. Even as you follow the usual rituals for the evening, turning the TV on in the background, you can’t help but feel like you’ve walked in a cold spot, and can’t shake off the shiver.

That night, you fall into a restless sleep. In fact, in all the next fortnight, it’s the same. You ache every day, some from the ghost of pain that followed, but most for Markus. It’s hard, because you had started to fall for him, slowly and surely, and now, following the incident, you heard not a word. The fear creeps in, and you feel like he’s left you. Sided with the brother who left you with a concussion, and therapy sessions you can’t afford.

Left you to your lonely heart. That longed…for him.

It’s almost a month since the incident when you open your door to music at eight one morning. Markus’ door is wedged open with an unopened sack of rice, and your heart flutters. You pause at the threshold, caught - but at that moment you are seen. You catch Markus’ eye, and you turn to leave.

“Wait,” he called out.

Despite yourself, you did. Markus looked good, but then, he always did. His shirt is a patterned button-down, and his jeans are cuffed, feet bare upon his floorboards. There’s no hairband around his hair, and it hangs loose, the locs long, long enough to brush against his collar.

“You -,” the words die on your lips.

“I know you’ll never forgive me,” Markus stalls at his doorway, biting his lip, upset. “but I let him in, and he - fuck,” he wipes a hand over his face. “If you don’t want to speak -,”

“I missed - I miss you,” the words tumble out.

The emotions you wear on your sleeve are wiped across your face so plain to see. Oh, if you were a hero in a novel, doomed to be plagued by feelings and things that darkened the skies, it would be worth it only if Markus was there, and here he was, he was here, and you felt almost sickeningly happy, afraid of the joy inside you.

“I’ve been in New York, helping Dad with the case against - I would’ve never left but it was the last straw. I -,” you blink, unsure of what you’re witnessing. Markus is stammering over his words too, almost nervous. He’s never been, in front of you; he was a saviour to the lost in the foster system, a pillar of strength and example of handsomeness, but never unconfident. And yet, here he was. “I’ll cook dinner for you tonight, if you -,”

“I’d love that,” you reply, too quick.

But too quick is not quick enough, and Markus smiles. “Are you allergic to anything?” he asks.

“No,” you reply. “But I think I’m into you.”

He crosses the hallway, and you meet him halfway. It’s almost clumsy, the way you fall into each other’s arms; it’s not like a Hallmark movie or something where Margot Robbie and some piece of eye candy look so dashing upon a movie poster. They don’t hold a torch against Markus.

“That’s strange,” he says, his mouth close to your face, breath hot in your hair, “I feel the same way.”

Life isn’t a movie, it’s real life, and Markus and you are just people. Ordinary people who managed to find each other in the chaos of life. If anything, Markus is a corner piece, and you are the spot beside which slots right in. The puzzle is complete now. The picture is clear, with answers, dinner, and sweeter things than each other’s touch on the horizon, between you, and the man who moved into the apartment across the hall.

#markus x reader #markus #markus rk200 #markus dbh x reader #markus dbh/reader #dbh markus #dbh reader insert #Detroit: BH #Detroit: Become Human/Reader #chaotic--lovely #pendragonfics #gender neutral reader

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