#we love dialogue in this house
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More aroace Ford! Idea I had this time with Stan wanting to know what being aroace is. Even though he wonât fully understand, he understands it makes his brother happy and thatâs enough for him.
#gravity falls#stanley pines#stanford pines#stan twins#sea grunks#my art#aroace#aromantic#asexual#comic#sketches#stan pines#ford pines#sorry I just love aroace ford so much TwT#we love some wholesome supportive bros in this house#makes my heart happy#artsyâs attempt to write dialogue#long post
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Ichigo: So how old are you, anyway?
Grimmjow: Hell if I know. Pretty sure I didnât experience time the same way you do when I was an adjuchas, and fuck trying to remember anything from before I was a Gillian.
Ichigo: Adjuchas. Right. Which one is that again?
Grimmjow: Goddamn, is there anything in that head of yours, Kurosaki? Or are you really just here to look pretty and bash things with your sword?
Ichigo: I donât just bash things with my sword, asshole. And what do you meanâ *realizes what Grimmjow said* *ichigo.exe has stopped working*
Grimmjow: Yeah, thatâs what I figured.
#kingâs court#bleach#grimmichi#this isnât so much an incorrect quote as it is me imagining dialogue for my latest one shot#in this house we donât think too hard about how old Grimmjow would realistically be#ichigo is also not thinking about it too hard donât worry about it#no but really itâs like twilight. Edward and Bella. worrying about the ethics of love interest whoâs decades older than the mc but immortal#sort of pales in comparison to the vampire/hollow part of it yâknow?#not that Iâve ever actually seen twilight#this is getting off track ignore me
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Alright, picture this: Moon and Y/N are on an adventure where they go to the future and explore. While Y/N is exploring, Moon notices something and finds out it's Y/N's grave and how they die. How do you think Moon will feel being reminded of Y/N's mortality?
very very very bad.
though i will note that he staunchly refuses to look at anything that might lead him to learning of Y/Nâs future. he doesnât want to think about it. if he somehow came across it by pure dumb (bad) luck, he will ignore and suppress the memory as best he can
#dialogue dump#dca who au#we love suppressing thoughts and emotions and memories in this house (/joking)#âcan he just delete the memory file or something?â no. thatâs how you end up corrupting all your memories and he knows thatâs not worth it
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watching resisting roots with the #clown car support squad and...hoooo boy i am glad we made a drinking game for this
lou i love you you sweet gumdrop
anyways @ezvlli @buck-up-buck @kyellin @thetangycheesemanwithaplan does this count as trauma bonding
#this movie is...so. bad#the dialogue is awFUL#âyou're so *hard*â#âdo you want these...other things?â âoh yeah đâ#but like...at least lou is hot so we have that going for us???#we're doing great in this chilis tonight#not a sober liver in the house#clown car support squad#how i love you so#em speaks
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aaAAa idk what Daima's gonna be like, but whether I love it or hate it, I can rest easy knowing that the production crew got a decent timeline (~2+ years for iirc 10-20 episodes? citation needed but usually things are in production for at least a year before they're announced, in my experience, and it was announced last year) and what appears to be a great budget.
It's the first Dragon Ball series to be written and directed by women, which is something I thought I'd never live to see. It's the first Dragon Ball animated series that Toriyama was personally and heavily involved in, and he seemed to be having a blast on it. And personally it kind of super actually fr chokes me up a lot to think that his final project was getting to revisit Kid Goku for one last adventure, especially since he wasn't involved in GT outside a handful of designs.
Also I know the last episode is going to emotionally wreck me, because Toriyama passed away during production and I just know whatever the cast and crew put in there to thank him is going to fuck me up!! I am going to cry.
#someone on reddit theorized that daima was a 'season break' before Super picks back up on the Moro arc but god I hope not#Not unless Toei goes back and fixes the rest of it if we're basing the story on the manga now you go back and you get your shit right#while I was looking stuff up I found an old 1996 interview of Toriyama being mad about the anime's version of Goku and it's all the same#shit I complain about re: Corporate HeroMan and it was so vindicating kalsjdkajs#it also cited a more recent interview about how Toriyama's view on Geets has changed over the years and how he's come to love his#likes his âcoolness and aloof superiority.â Aloof Toei. Aloof. Google that word. Stop writing him like an insecure chihuahua.#He's a retired war dog and a super bitchy house cat rolled into one guy. una pantera.#anyway I'm ready and I'm not ready but I'm ready#Toriyama said that it's not just action so I'm!! I hope we get slice of life character stuff like we did with broly and super hero.#we know a man loved his dialogue and banter and goofy jokes so god willing those were the primary influence for the writer#dbtag
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me after editing the aau prologue for the bajillionth time
#First chapter I changed the opening bc I always thought it felt off/abrupt and wanted to have it be prince pov from the start#I wanna get in his head more ok sue me#Beyond that tho it was just some wording edits#Specifically with the internal dialogue moments I helped them flow more/feel more like thoughts#Also mj gets a bit more of their usual edge/pessimism bc the prologue they always felt a bit too âĂłwò sad poor smol beanâ or whatever#Thatâs it tho chapter 4 I didnât change bc itâs peak#Did add some teases to later things tho like snatch senses mjs soul at the end of his chap but doesnât realize it#Or like I added the Not Now running thing in the earlier chapters bc it was more of a chapter 4 thing so I wanted 2 set it up more so boom#I think thatâs all the notable edits ig like I said just description additions the only actual new thing is the opener for chap 1 đ#Also also I got to include a hc that I have that I neglected to do before but I hc a!prince used plural internal dialogue#Because lol we love dramatic irony in this house#Grace post#this reminds me tho one of these days I should look through heart strings chapter one to look for editing things#Bc I think I did that recently but I donât remember it much tho#Mostly just when the Hat stuff starts that was the parts I never directly rewrote I just edited them so they feel out of place in my brain#Also Iâd wanna edit her dialogue bc it *was* in character (after rereading her diaryâs to confirm) but I wanna have her be a bit more snark#Hat is Hard bc i Need the balance of cute little kid and also smug little shit (affectionate) like she is a pain to write man cries#This is just me rambling lol ignore it I just wanted to spam aau thoughts#In other news I made shapes redesigns but Iâm on the fence on posting them bc idk if I wanna spoil or not hhhhhhhhh#Nowadays Iâm more chill w spoiling things than I used to be#But there are a handful of things Iâve kept shut about (ex being princes name or mjs species stuff etc)#So Iâm not sure if this thing with shapes i should keep secret or just post bc I used to spoil it but idk now#Shrugs#maybe Iâll do a poll later I dunno#Ok yapping over byeeeeee
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I really am so sad I don't like isat. The themeing was very good
#isat critical#like the ''we must be prepared for the destruction change will bring'' shit came back so hard at the end#specifically with loop context/destroying themself to become a star. to become loop#and the fact that when siffrin deviated from the script. finally changed the way he performed his play (act 5)#that's when it broke#and he had to ''destroy'' his friends to do it. In a way. When all he knew how to do was fight/snapped#and it's like. of COURSE loop is how siffrin was able to escape. Because escaping the loop meant siffrin had to save/love themself#value their own life and not just their friend's#to realize that they couldn't do it on their own. that they needed their friends to help them out of it. they needed support#that being loved was more than saying the right thing or doing the right quest#isat is so strong structurally/thematically/plot-wise and I personally despise it comedically/character/dialogue writing-wise#and the whole game is dialogue. like isat is the most conflicting experience I've had in a while#Where I hate actually reading the dialogue and I don't like the character writing but I love thinking about it's themes. like hello#that sucks i'd rather have it just be one or the other#*aaravos voice* you must live life in the grey#Like the king and siffrin foil is my beloved. And I absolutely adore how the King's story was ended.#But I dislike siffrin as a character and I also hate most of the game's execution#like every emotional beat is made anticlimactic by the lack of subtext and the constant repetition#(literally laughed out loud at ''my house my country my HOME!'' like we said the same thing 3 times babe. the whole game is like this)#isat has a huge case of ''we wanted conflict but didn't give characters any real flaws to be able to do it''#idk. Everyone repeated over and over that they don't touch siffrin because he's uncomfortable with it. Over and over.#And yet he's still like. ''It's because Isa finds you disgusting'' Huh. Idk if we did the work for Siffrin to come to that conclusion#Like literally Isa never does anything to even imply that. All he's ever done is sing Sif's praises. makes me feel crazy#Like ''oh he views everyone else as just a character!! a pawn!'' except no he doesn't. he barely did in act 5#and even in act 5 he's horrified at how he treated odile. like. we did not commit to that. I got sad lukewarm flowey#Do not even get me started on odile's ''I think it's so cute you trapped yourself in time and went crazy because you love us''. Girl#Like no we can. We can commit. Siffrin did bad things and going crazy was bad. Odile wasn't wrong to be upset.#Like why not 'That was terrible of you to say. But I won't leave youâyou still love people who make mistakes- because what else is there?'#like we got so close with the worst loop being the permanent loop. Siffrin is still loved no matter what. But idk. Felt brushed off#oh isat...you strange being...
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watching astarion's horde of undead summons follow us around is the funniest thing to me. just another day in baldur's gate, citizens, nothing to worry about here! carry on and don't mind the smell of rotting flesh!
#bg3#thoughts about media#sorry you want to hit my vampire? you'll have to go through his dragon blooded boyfriend and 7 undead summons first.#oh and shovel. I finally learned who shovel is. by accidentally binding her to astarion lol.#apparently she can be a proper familiar if you summon her in the apothecary's cellar and carry out a dialogue....#so next playthrough! mister vampire of my heart! you can have her as your familiar. since you both love murder so much.#oh and I made wyll a warlock/ranger. so HE has summons too. and I can pretend the wolf summon is lily T___T#usually I bring halsin with us. and he ALSO has summons- elementals. something a little different! less bitey....#shadowheart is here this time because we just finished the house of grief.#and good GRIEF. i forgot how fucking unfun fighting viconia and her drove of debbie downers is.#corydalis used like almost all his sorcery points. astarion had to use explosives at one point. wyll clutched with silence.#shadowheart's sanctuary SUPER helpful to keep hits off people who needed healing.#and by god did those zombies do work.
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watched secret world of arrietty potentially my new favorite ghibli movie... not potentially i think it legit is
#i watched fourr movies today 2 ive seen b4 and 2 new ones... arrietty was one of da new ones#the other new one was orlando pretty good i liked how likee. artsy it was... it was very cool basically i liked it and i rly loved the#costuming#i do wish it had subtitles on site i use tho bc i had a hard time understanding.. not da movies fault bc i have a hard time comprehending#dialogue in a Lot of older movies.. but i liked it :]]#but anyways yes. one thing abt me i was obsesseddd with borrowers as a kid it was part of my fairy obsession. i was sososososooso hopelessl#delighted by the concept of tiny people who live secretly and their houses and furniture are all fashioned out of#everyday human objects it made me fucking craaazy#me and my siblings favorite activity used to be building fairy houses... we even had one playground we loved specifically#bc it had a bunch of trees with little hollowed out areas under the roots which made the best fairy houses...#we had umm. for a while this is fun my mom had this likee. sheet she made that was like.. a grading sheet for playgrounds#so everytime we went to a playground wed check the little boxes for each thing on the list it had... like we had Curly slide swingset seesa#etc... and then wed also write in anything that wasnt on the sheet that we loved#and we wrote in Great for fairy houses for a lot of them.... it was rly rly rly fun i honestly think that might be part of where my love of#spreadsheets came from.. one thing abtme i looooove to categorize things by a set metric. so yes#basically :DDD I LOVE FAIRIES I LOVE BORROWERS!!! i rly rly rly wanna get into building those little miniature houses. dollhouses whyd i sa#minihouses LOL. i was thinking of likee studson studios type thang i forget what theyre called#ik they make little kits for it so id start with that but eventually id love 2 start just making my own...#i also used to watch those like. miniature cooking videos. they were my cocomelon i would literally watch them boil a droplet of water and#Lose my fucking mind KJASBDKUBSJ#or when they put the little miniature cake in their little miniature oven... i specifically am remembering the pancakes#I NEED 2 FIND THOSE AGAIN. I MISS THEM!!!!!
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When do we get this queen on our screens?
#hotd#house of the dragon#baela#baela targaryen#baela velaryon#bethany antonia#ryan condal#you turn non-entity helaena into cool bug girl seer but you cant even give baela a line of dialogue#dont get me wrong i love bug girl helaena but why cant we have baela too
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my cousin is making me watch the red white and royal blue movie IM SUFFERING!!!
#literal liberal wet dream like i hate to sound like a anti woke cuck but đđđđ this is such a liberal movie#its like it was written by those ppl who are like what we need is more representation in SCOTUS AND THE HOUSE OF LORDS!#we love war criminals when theyre poc and gay.... you know what im talking about#and thr dialogue.... this has to have been a wattpad boom before it was published
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Season eight was a steaming dumpster of plots and quick character building activities while setting up the "then they lived happily ever after" but they truly truly did House and Wilson's relationship justice in the end I will say that.
I was so mad at how the writers of the show clearly wanted to go one way with House and Cuddy's relationship, while the producers and actors disagreed on actually getting there, and that will be a loss to the show really. Even if they didn't last they deserved a more heartfelt attempt at a relationship after six seasons and two decades of apparent history. Alas!
House finally finally changed and became the man he wanted to be, because of Wilson's death. Nothing before that, or perhaps everything before that, prepared him for who he was meant to be. He gave of himself willingly for Wilson's benefit and not his own repeatedly. And when Wilson is gone he has no life, no job, but he knows he'll be ok. Despite this being the one thing that hurts the most. Because in the end all his subconscious people were wrong. He doesn't still need the puzzle or the meds or anything.
He's not going to lose it and kill himself when Wilson does eventually die. He's going to grieve like he's seen patients families do, and then he's going to live for Wilson for as long as he's got left of his own clock.
He's got no money and he can't get in trouble with the law lest he blow his cover but he'll pass the time. Who knows... Maybe he just goes from town to town helping people with their simple ailments like he knows Wilson enjoyed. No puzzles no excitement just fixing people up and moving along.
#seriously the dialogue and plot at times was ridiculous#but hilson finally got the screen time they deserved... even if it was way more tragic than we wanted#house showed wilson what it would be like to be a father#he helped wilson through chemo giving his own medicine to do it and keeping his promise to wait it out#he reminded wilson of how much good he did all the ppl that are still alive because of him#he brought him his favorite foods#he went on a ridiculous road trip that negatively impacted his own leg and helped him every step of the way#he faked his own death and scoped out his funeral so that he and wilson could spend their last five months together#in peace#happy#together#feel the need to say it twice its so important#oh and i know they glossed over the love conversation but i think house said it off camera#maybe that night when wilson came back over and he realized he was really gonna do this and he really needed a way to get them outta there#but since episode one since louisiana house has loved him#wilson says ily quickly hes had three marriages and amber#but house acts ily quickly too#he was an emotionally neglected boy who is probably autistic honestly way too smart for his own good#and way too scared of rejection but he never stopped showing it for wilson#even when the writers did stupid plots and created drama#hilson#house md#finally finished my first complete watch through of the show and damn
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Pretty Bird
Sylus X Reader
Summary: Sylus is jealous of you giving Mephisto attention. That's it. You tease him when you find out.
Word Count: 2123
Note: Nothing really, hope I did him justice! His dialogue is a little harder for me to nail down.
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The first time it happens is when you cross to the N109 Zone to accompany Sylus on an âerrandâ.
The first thing you do when you reach the ornate, empty house - of course - is say hello to your favorite bird.
âHey there pretty bird.â
Mephisto squawks, bobbing excitedly on his perch as you bound up to him. You grin and give the crow a gentle scratch on his head. He preens under your touch, mechanical feathers fluffing with another quiet, scruffy caw. Adorable.
Despite his unnerving gaze, which you find to be eerily similar to a certain Onychinus leader, you canât help but love the little bird. For some reason, it always comforts you a little bit to see him perched outside your apartment, or following you around Linkon. He always tries to act like heâs not spying on you, but you know he is, and you know heâs going to report right back to Sylus. Maybe thatâs why itâs comforting.
âIf I didnât know better, Iâd say youâre trying to sway his loyalties.â
Speak of the devil.
âAs if,â you snicker, giving the bird one final scratch before spinning on your heels to face Sylus. He sits across the room in one of his big armchairs, eyes glued to the gun heâs loading, face carefully blank. As always. You saunter over and pop yourself onto the arm of the chair, bumping his shoulder. âYou know Mephisto doesnât listen to anyone but you. Iâm just like the fun mom who gives him things.â
His lips twitch ever so slightly, âMmm, does that make me your husband in this situation?â
Heat creeps up your cheeks.
You are no stranger to Sylusâ flirty nature. Thatâs how things have always been between you, though it only really gets to you now. Before, when you kind of hated his guts, it was just annoying. Well, maybe even then-
âYou wish,â you retort, but thereâs no hiding the blush painting your cheeks.
âHm, I thought you knew me better than that, sweetie.â In an instant, his hand curls around your wrist, giving it a sharp tug that knocks you off balance. You let out an undignified squeak, tumbling right into his lap. And before you can squirm away, Sylus locks an arm over your legs, keeping you trapped against him. Those red eyes freeze you in place, dark and warm with mischief. âWhy would I wish for something I could so easily take?â
You stare at him, eyes blown wide, face completely red now. You canât even form any words in response, which seems to amuse him even more. A smirk curls his lips, and he gives your hip a playful pinch.
âWhat? Crow got your tongue, sweetie?â
You sputter, finally finding your voice, âSylus!â
âGood. Now that youâre focused, we can go handle business.â Sylus sets you on the ground, making sure youâre steady before he stands nonchalantly and tucks his gun in its holster. Like nothing just happened! âWe donât want to be late now, do we?â
Before you can even say anything more, heâs heading for the door. It takes a few seconds to shake yourself from your state of shock, and then youâre quickly following after him.
âSylus-!â
He cuts you off, that stupid, attractive smirk still on his lips, âAnd by the way, try not to spoil Mephisto too much, sweetie. Heâs grown rather petulant when youâre not around.â
Youâre pretty sure your blush sticks around for the entire car ride after.
---
The second time is when you visit on one of your off days.Â
When you get there, Sylus is still asleep. You take a moment to crouch by his bed, a fond smile adorning your lips as you take in his peaceful face. You remember when he used to sleep sitting up, so he was ready for anything, but now he looks relaxed. Though you still spot the gun tucked under his bed.
Deciding not to bother him, you quietly make your way back out to the living room and grab a book. Itâs about the only way to pass time in the N109 Zone, at least, without getting yourself into anything dangerous. As soon as you sit down, Mephisto flaps across the room and lands on your arm, plopping himself down into your lap like a cat.
A giggle escapes you when the crow throws his head back, looking up at the most awkward angle you can imagine. You give his beak a little rub, and he makes a soft clicking sound, beady red eyes falling shut.
âI swear, itâs almost like youâre a crow with cat programming,â you hum, mostly to yourself. Mephisto ruffles his feathers, though, at the word âcatâ, eyes flashing back open. You snort, easing a hand over his wings, âNo worries, pretty bird, no cats. Iâm just kidding.â
He settles back down, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, which only makes you want to coddle him more. So cute. If only Sylus would be this cute with you. Heat tinges your cheeks at the thought of the tall man resting against your lap, looking up at you with softly narrowed eyes, humming in content as you pet his ha-
Snapping your book open, you throw yourself into the story in hopes of banishing such rogue thoughts. If Sylus knew what you were imagining, he would tease you for years. You really donât want to feed his ego even more. Mephisto wedges himself between your arm and your side, happy to just fall asleep as you read, oblivious to your inner turmoil.
It doesnât take you long to actually get immersed in the storyline, though. So much so that you donât hear the steps coming up behind you.
âIt seems you come here more often to spend time with Mephisto than with me.â
You practically jump out of your skin when a strong arm circles your shoulders. Sylusâ voice is a low rumble in your ear, thick with sleep. He leans over the back of your chair, and you narrowly miss the way he eyes the bird in your lap with distaste. He looks far too content curled up on your lap.
âI didnât want to bother you while you were sleeping,â you hum, closing the book.
He grumbles, sleepy eyes shifting to bore into you. The smallest pout pulls at his lips, and you have to stifle a giggle as you reach up to smooth down his messy hair. Sylus leans into your touch, much like Mephisto did, his eyes flickering shut. Okay, maybe he is just as cute.
âAre you mad I didnât come cuddle with you?â You tease. Sleepy Sylus is definitely your favorite Sylus. âI didnât know the big, bad Onychinus leader likes to snuggle.â
âItâs simply to ensure you donât cause trouble in the N109 Zone,â he murmurs, still just as quick-witted though heâs half-asleep, âI canât have my kitten wandering around all by herself, now can I?â
âI was just reading, Sylus. No trouble here.â
âHmm, then you might as well come read in bed.â
You hesitate, fingers tracing along his jaw lightly, âYou sure I wonât disturb your sleep?â
Those dark eyes blink back open lazily, a rare, genuine smile dancing in their depths, âTrust me, kitten, my sleep will be much better with you at my side.â
God, youâre weak for this man. Mephisto squawks his complaints as you lift him from your lap, but takes off to his perch without much fight. Sylus feels a flash of victory as you intertwine your fingers. The sensation of your small hand in his eases the strange tightness in his chest whenever youâre apart. He curls his other arm around you possessively, sending the bird a smug smirk.
You catch it this time, lifting a brow as you glance between him and Mephisto. Your brain stalls. Was heâŚjealous? No way. Thereâs no way Sylus would be jealous of you spending time with his bird. Heâs more mature than thatâŚor maybe not, you realize as he drags you back to his bed, only to lay himself over you like a large cat, using your lap as his pillow. Exactly as you imagined.
Your heart flutters a little, which youâre sure he hears somehow, because he squeezes your waist teasingly. You pinch his cheek lightly before running your fingers through his snowy hair. Itâs always softer than you expect.
âGo to sleep, Sylus,â you murmur, voice far too fond, âIâll be here when you wake up.â
He hums, and you can feel the sound vibrate through his body. Almost like a purr.
God, you donât even have a chance, do you?
---
The final time is when you visit the N109 Zone to attend another auction with Sylus. And this time, you catch him in it.
âWhereâs Mephisto?â
Sylusâ face sours at your question. You bite back a smile.
Ever since the day you spent napping in his room, you havenât been able to escape that thought swirling in the back of your mind. So you decided to test your theory. Sylus is always messing with you, afterall. Itâs only fair you get a bit of revenge.
âI sent him out to gather intel,â Sylus huffs eventually. Why do you always look for that d***Â bird first? âThat is his purpose, afterall.â
âOh.â You feign sadness, letting out a long sigh. âThatâs too bad! I brought him some treats.â
âWell, you can leave them here. Iâm sure heâll eat them later,â he says, voice dismissive as he fixes the cuffs of his coat.
âHmm-â You slowly make your way over to him. Those perceptive eyes narrow on you, watching you carefully while you straighten his collar. âWill he be here later? Maybe I can give them to him after the auction. I miss my pretty bird.âÂ
Amusement curls in your chest when you see the manâs brows twitch ever so slightly. Heâs really annoyed. Now you understand why he loves pushing your buttons so much.
âNo, Iâm afraid heâll be busy all night.â You can practically hear him gritting his teeth. Almost there. You keep your eyes focused on his coat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. Heâs trying to figure you out and youâre scared that if you look up, the laughter you're holding back will break loose. Instead, you put on an exaggerated pout.
âThatâs unfortunate. I was really hoping to see him tonight.â
Sylus growls. Actually growls in annoyance.
âWould you prefer to have Mephisto on your arm tonight instead of me?â His words come out biting and harsh, tinged with unmistakable jealousy.
The air goes silent.
Before you burst into a fit of giggles. Sylusâ eyes widen when you collapse against his chest, your entire body shaking with laughter. He freezes, though his confusion quickly gives way to realization.Â
You were playing with him.
âI suppose this is some form of revenge,â he hums, shaking his head. Itâs surprising it took him so long to catch on. With anyone else, heâd be beyond angry, but your laughter is so bright, so infectious, that he canât stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. When you finally look up at him, tears glint in the corners of your eyes. Who thought this would amuse you so much?
âYouâre jealous! The Sylus is jealous of a little bird. His bird.â You bite down on your lip in an attempt to muffle the giggles that keep coming, but it doesnât do much to help. Itâs just too much for you. You never ever thought youâd see Sylus actually jealous of someone, let alone an animal.
Sylus narrows his eyes, though they glow with a certain fondness. âSuch a sadist, sweetie, messing with a manâs heart so lightly.â
âOh, but your reaction was so adorable,â you sing, reaching up to poke his cheek. He playfully bites at your finger, making you draw it back quickly with another laugh. âJust the fact that you could even think I like Mephisto more than you is so silly. I couldnât help myself.â
âHmm, then Iâm afraid youâll just have to prove my silly conclusion wrong, wonât you?â His hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to the warmth of his body. You oblige him, stretching your arms up and around his neck to draw him down.
âOf course. I canât have my pretty bird walking around thinking heâs second best,â you tease, fingers curling through his hair. âEven if he has a jealousy prob-â
âQuiet.â
Anything else you say is muffled as Sylus finally kisses you.
Safe to say, after that, you make sure to give Sylus extra attention, especially when Mephisto is around. (Though you do still sneak him treats when Sylus isnât looking.)
#lads sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lads sylus x reader#love and deepspace reader insert#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus x reader#x reader#reader insert#jealousy#love and deepspace sylus
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Like The Other Ones
HI YES IM FINALLY DONE HOLY SHIT
OKAY SO this was based off on my own gameplay of COTL, I noticed that everytime Id put food orders in, Narinder would usually be the one to prepare them And honestly? We love a malewife in this house so I dig that for him, ma guy is a skilled cook <3
As I wrote down the dialogue, it just got deeper than I expected SO HERE YALL GO WITH A FULL ASS COMIC ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP, ENJOY!!!!
This shit took me weeks Ill go recharge my soul now brb-
EDIT: I DECIDED TO PUT A UNDERCUT Tab so yall dont have to scroll too much in order to read and see other posts ure welcome đ¤źââď¸ <3
#cult of the lamb#cult of the lamb comic#cotl#cotl comic#narilamb#cotl narilamb#cult of the lamb narilamb#cotl narinder#cotl lamb#cotl lambert#cotl the lamb#cotl the one who waits#narilamb comic#narinder x lamb#lamb x narinder#cult of the lamb fanart#cotl fanart#comic#comics#myart#art#fanart#skyartworkzzz#i apologize for how LONG this post is there rlly wasnt gonna be any other way man-#ALSO SORRY FOR THE HANDWRITING BTFW I WAS GONNA DO IT TYPED OUT BUT I GOT SO LAZY TO RENDER THE TEXT#So bare with me just this once sobs#Ill use marker brush next time it is less harder to write with compared to a pressure-based brush
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was i stupid to love you?
in which a lingering glance at Rossiâs wedding threatens your engagement.
content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)
The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. Thereâs a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. Youâre trying to hold it back.
Not here.
Not now.
Spencer doesnât even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.
âAre you hungry?â he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. âThink we could order something?â
You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. âWe just came back from a wedding.â
Heâs rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. âI barely ate anything at the reception.â
You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake heâd poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.
It wasnât hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation heâd had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent youâd found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into itâand obviously failing.
âWhy didn���t you eat?â
He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. âI donât know,â he says, sounding almost absent, like itâs something he hasnât really thought about. âI didnât get around to it, I guess.â
The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.
Spencer turns, offering you a glass. âI was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.â
You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. âWhatever you want is fine.â
A subtle crease appears between his brows. âYou sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.â
âIâm not hungry.â
âYou donât want to eat anything?â
You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."
The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. âAlright,â he concedes. âWe donât have to order anything.â
A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, âYou donât have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.â
âIâm not changing any plans,â he responds. âIâm just making sure you have something to eat in case youâre hungry.â
Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."
He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."
"Right. Considerate.â
Thereâs an unmistakable bite in your tone.
âYes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?â
You shake your head. âNope.â
"Honey."
The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. Itâs stirring the words youâre trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.
He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. âYouâve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now youâre⌠honestly, I donât know why you're acting this way.â His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "Whatâs this really about?"
The words youâve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.
âIâm just saying, donât let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldnât want to stop you from anythingâor, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, âanyone.â
The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You donât even have to look up to see his expression shifting. Youâve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.
His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.
Maybe this isnât the time to start a fight.
âWhat is that supposed to mean?â
Your heels click softly as you turn.
âForget it. I shouldn't have said anything,â you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom thatâs been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life youâre not entirely sure you belong in.
âNo." His voice is somewhere behind you. âI think you should explain to me what you mean by that.â
You donât respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.
âHoney.â
Not again.
You decide to ignore him.
âIs there something youâd like to say to me?â
You tug harder at the strap. âNo.â
He doesnât buy it. âYouâre clearly bothered by something.â
You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. âIâm just tired. Can we leave it at that?â
Thereâs a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap youâve been fighting with. âHere, let meââ
âDonât,â you interrupt, pulling your foot away. âI can do it myself.â
âI know you can. But let meââ
âI can do it myself!â
Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration thatâs wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. Heâs close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although itâs not the kind you usually find comforting. Itâs almost suffocating.
You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like heâs going to let it go⌠until his gaze drifts back to you.
You can tell his patience is fraying, and youâre proven right when he asks again, âWhat did you mean by that? When you said you wouldnât want to stop me from anyone⌠what was that supposed to mean?â
You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. âIt was nothing.â
âI donât think youâd say something like that if it was nothing.â
Your focus shifts to the other shoe. âJust drop it, Spencer.â
"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"
You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.
âDonât do that,â he says. âDonât brush it off like itâs nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.â
You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. âYou really want to know?â
He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. âDo I want to know why youâre giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.â
Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.
You hadnât expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time youâve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five oâclock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.
This is real. And this time, you donât know if brushing it off will fix anything.
âFine, letâs talk about it then.â You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. âEmilyâs speech tonight.â
His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. âEmilyâs speech? What about it?â
âWhat do you remember of it?â
Thereâs a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. âShe mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."
âRight. Two souls that are always meant to be together.â
His face is still marked by confusion, but thereâs something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you heâs starting to piece it together. âI donât understand what that has to do withââ
âYou looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,â you cut him off. âSpencer, you didnât even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman whoâs apparently been in love with you all these years.â
There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.
A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, heâs standing there with his hand on his hip.
âThatâs not what happened."
âThen what was it?â you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."
âThatâs notâyouâre twisting things.â His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. âAnd you know what happened that night wasnât real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.â
You arch an eyebrow. âYou look at all your friends like that?â
His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."
âMaybe I wouldnât be bringing this up if you didnât look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.â
A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.
âThatâs not fair,â he snaps, his voice sharper than youâve heard in a while. âDo you really think Iâd disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?â
âI donât know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?â
He lets out a tight breath. âShe was checking in on me. She⌠we havenât talked much since then.â
The corners of your mouth pull down. âMhm. Another round of truth or dare?â
âI canât believe youâre using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I wouldâve said something. But I didnât, because thereâs nothing there."
âAnd yet, sheâs always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"
He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"
Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung openâa door to words that have been waiting for their moment.
You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.
âWhen you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesnât that say something about where she stands with you?â
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.
âSheâs part of the team,â he says, as if heâs trying to spell out something heâs already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasnât like I could just put anyone on the list.â
âBut you couldâve put me on there!â
The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but youâre already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.
âI was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldnât do anything to help you?â
Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.
âI was out here, just⌠waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, sheâs there, with you. Every single time, sheâs the one who gets to be by your side.â
Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.
âSo forgive me if I canât just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didnât want me to be there for you. And now⌠now I donât even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.â
Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears youâve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.
âI need a minute.â
Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water thatâs been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.
âYou think I donât want you in my life?â he demands. âYou think I somehow need her more than I need you?â
You set the glass down. âWhat part of âI need a minuteâ do you not understand?â
âYou really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt youâve ever had about us?â
You life your chin up. âYes, I do. I need space to think right now.â
âWhat more do you want to think about when youâve already convinced yourself that Iâm always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that youâre the one I want?â
âYou want to know why itâs so damn hard to believe?â You turn towards him. âBecause every time I try to let this go, thereâs always something. A confession. Thatâthat not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that Iâm not as close to you as she is. Iâm fucking tired of feeling like Iâm fighting for space in your life.â
âDo you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think Iâd go through everything weâve been through if you didnât matter to me?â
âThen explain to me why I wasnât on that list!â you cry out. âExplain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldnât make space for me?â
âBecause I was trying to protect you!â
A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, thereâs a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.
âI know it probably doesnât make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldnât stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless⌠It would have crushed me. I didnât want that to be your memory of me.â
His Adamâs apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement youâve witnessed countless times.
âAnd when JJ came to see me,â he continues, âthe way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left⌠it was disgusting. I couldnâtâwouldnâtâlet that happen to you. I couldnât live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.â
You lower your head with a sigh. âI donât care if they looked. I donât care what they wouldâve thought.â
âBut I care,â he fires back, taking a step forward. âBecause you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because Iâ" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."
Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.
"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."
You also hate the way heâs looking at you. Thereâs a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.
âWhy donât we⌠call it a night?â He suggests. âLetâs lie down. We donât have to talk about this now.â
The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.
You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this canât smooth away the doubt thatâs settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath youâve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.
âYou havenât explained it to me.â
The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.
âWhat do you mean?â
âWeâve been going in circles, but you havenât explained to me what happened tonight,â you say quietly. âWhy did you look at her, Spencer?â
His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.
âBe honest with me,â you press. âWas there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that⌠wondered what it might be like?â
The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. Itâs the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.
You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.
âUnbelievable.â The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. âUnbelievable.â
âWait,â he says, trailing after you, âI didnât even say anything.â
You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.
âYou didnât need to! Youâyou hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but itâs there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. âThat was already an answer.â
He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. âPleaseââ
You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. âDonât. Donât touch me right now.â
His hand falls to his side. âPlease⌠let me explain."
You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like theyâre not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line youâve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.
Almost.
A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"
He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had⌠maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.â His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. âFourteen years."
Your brows pull into a frown. âWhy am I only hearing about this now?â
âBecause it was nothing,â he says, almost too quickly. âI was young, it didnât matter. I didnât think it was worth bringing up.â
âOh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didnât they?â
He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, âItâs nothing like that.â
âThen what is it?â you press. âBecause from where Iâm standing, it looks a whole lot like youâre caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what mightâve been with her."
He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.
âItâs not that I donât know what I want,â he starts to explain. âI didnât expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesnât mean Iâm looking back, or that I want her. I want you.â
You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.
âIf you really wanted me, this wouldnât be happening. You wouldnât have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?â
Heâs quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. âItâs notââ His hands flex open and close at his sides. âYouâre acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide Iâm not committed to you. Do you really think Iâd let some confession I didnât even ask for get in the way of what we have?â
âItâs not just about that single look. Itâs the way she could say something and suddenly, youâre pulled back to something you swore youâd put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?â
âAnd what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I donât even feel anymore?â
You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you donât respond.
âYouâre always going to question me no matter what I say, arenât you?"
You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. Heâd walked in looking worn in a way youâd never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.
You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.
JJ said she loved me.
Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?
Donât worry. Itâs not true.
But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you canât help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.
âOne glance and youâre accusing me of things that are never going to happen,â he starts again. âDo you really think so little of me? After everything weâve shared, you really think Iâd betray you like that?â
In true honesty, you donât believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. Itâs not that you think heâd betray you. Itâs that a part of him might still be holding onto something he wonât let you see.
âItâs like you donât know me at all.â
Now those words you might actually believe.
âMaybe I donât,â you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How heâd stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. Youâd laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didnât need grand gestures. All you needed was him.
And yet, you donât think he needs you as much you need him.
A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.
âWhat are you doing?â
You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.
âTell me what youâre doing.â
Panic. Desperation. Thereâs a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasnât there a moment ago.
You swallow the lump in your throat. âI donât know,â you whisper. âIâI donât know anything right now.â
His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.
âNo, no, you do know me. Iâm sorry⌠Iâm so sorry. Isnât thisââ he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. âIsnât that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up⌠but they work through it, right? Right?â
You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.
âSpencerâŚâ you begin. âI trust you. I do, and Iâm sorry if I made it seem like I didnât. But⌠I need to feel secure. I⌠I need to know that I donât have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought youâd be the one to make me doubt that.â
Thereâs a sharp ache in your chest.
âI didnât think it could hurt this much. Not from you.â
Your pulse ring in your ear.
âI canâtââ The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. âI canât be your wife when Iâm constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like⌠thereâs always a part of you that isnât mine.â
âIâm yours, honey. Iâm always yours.â
âI wish I could believe that.â
Thereâs a slight falter in his voice. âDonâtâplease donât do thisââ
âI canât keep pretending it doesnât hurt.â
He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.
âPlease,â he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. âTell me how to fix this. I canâtâ I canât lose you.â
âSpenceâŚâ
âI love you,â he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. âI love you.â
But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when theyâve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesnât leave you questioning or aching? You canât even tell anymore.
You wonder, too, if maybe youâve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isnât love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like youâre both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.
You feel like a fool.
âI want to go to bed.â
His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadnât expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. âYeah, okay, letâs go to bed. Weâll⌠weâll figure this out in the morning.â
âIâd rather be alone.â
The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.
âThen⌠Iâll stay out here. On the couch,â he offers softly. âJust⌠in case you need anything.â
A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.
You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.
âNo,â he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. âDonât do that. This⌠it doesnât mean weâre giving up. It just means we need time. Thatâs all.â
Youâre not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.
The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. Itâs messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you canât seem to stop.
Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. Thereâs no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid fem!reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#angst#angst with no happy ending
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Theory: Messmer's timeline and story will only make sense if you consider him Marika's beloved firstborn
Aka, welcome to my doomed Mother & Son presentation slide đĽđŤĄ
This is written with the assumption that readers are aware of the big reveal regarding Marika's past.
(spoilers for SoTE and long discussion from Messmerâs birth to his final moment)
edit to add this dialogue from Gideon:
EDIT 2: Messmer's helm description literally stated he accepted his fate. he was just brooding sitting in the dark minding his own business, & he'd have been fine for a long time more if the Tarnished hadn't sauntered in & triggered all of his insecurities at once.
hell, he's still maintaining the jar clinic, the Keep still shows signs of activities, his "suffering" is him not being able to see his mom. but it is what it is, he already accepted that. yet people still love to blame Marika while we are the one fucking his brain chemical up???
his bros are throwing a divine disco light party next to his house and he's like "i do not care 𫤠i do not see đ". he doesn't even give a shit there would be a new God (as long as it's not his mom marrying someone he deems unfit). i think he'd even take up gardening while waiting for Marika to pick him up, no problem. why can't we just tell him his mom is imprisoned istg
EDIT 3: clarification on the mistranslation of Messmer's armor description
#elden ring#shadow of the erdtree#messmer the impaler#queen marika the eternal#sote spoilers#er braintrot#me writing that last line like that gif of someone writing in a sea of fire#golden doomed mother and son
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