#cause why waste energy doing all that when in the end its all the same anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frozenjokes · 1 month

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do we think cannibalism is a good idea yet? please? please do cannibalism?

“Hey, you okay, Mumbo? Can I come up? I’m thinking I’m going to come up regardless of what you say, but I’d like it if you just said yes.”

It was Scar. Mumbo said nothing. Scar hit his head twice attempting to get in with a trident, but made it on the third go, sighing with a dramatic ‘whew!’ There was a small silence in the wake of Scar’s arrival, causing the same agony Mumbo was sure Cub experienced when Mumbo smashed his ribs.

“Guess he told you,” Mumbo muttered, resigned to this outcome. Cub would tell Scar, Scar would push for more answers, and eventually the whole damn server would know something was wrong, not that they could do anything about it. Mumbo would not leave. Not until his shadow had its way.

“Cub told me you were really upset, yeah. Said he didn’t know why,” Scar shrugged, “Told me he thought you needed a friend. So here I am.”

“Ah,” Mumbo couldn’t even manage the noise without his voice slipping in a soft crack. Scar stepped toward the bed where Mumbo was curled up, moving to take his hand, then letting it go when Mumbo flinched.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Scar said, so impossibly gentle, and while Mumbo most certainly would not, he didn’t want to say nothing; he didn’t think he could just say nothing, it was too much.

“I think I’m- I’m very ill. I’m having a- a crisis, I think. Mentally. I’m not well. I’m really not well.”

Scar hummed, low and thoughtful, “Want a hug? I could lay down with you, no need to sit up.”

“I don’t want to face you.”

“That’s not a problem.”

“I-Okay. I’m just. I’m just going to stay here. I’m just going to stay here.”

Mumbo felt the bed dip beside him, Scar muttering a soft, “Alright,” before sliding in and holding him in a gentle spoon. It was nice feeling Scar behind him, warm even through the blanket that separated them. Slowly, Mumbo let that heat consume him, felt his heart rate slow. And then out of nowhere it seemed, wretchedly, he started to sob. It was not unusual for Mumbo to cry, though most of his grief was saved for the end of worlds, the friends he’d never see again. So much of his focus was dedicated to staying in the moment, distracting himself, putting one foot in front of the other; stopping to sob was a waste of energy, a waste of resolve. It was giving up. And Mumbo was aware of what was coming, he knew it, but in each new world acceptance came later, the moment where the gravity of his soon-to-end life hit him harder each time, and today, it was hitting now. He could delude himself all he wanted that he’d hold on until the end of the season, but he knew he wouldn’t make it. He would hardly be able to stand more than a month of this. It was over. Maybe it’d be better to bite the bullet now. Stop drawing out his own suffering and deal with the hurt after it was done.

How selfish was that, with Scar at his back. With monstrous effort, he ground down the thought that this would be the ideal way to do it; turning around and tearing through Scar’s chest, disabling any means of fighting back, then taking his damned time. Mumbo cried harder when Scar followed his arm down to his hand, rubbing circles with his thumb into the back.

He would wait.

“Please tell Cub to leave me alone. I don’t know what he wants, I don’t care, I just don’t want to see him anymore. For the rest of the season, I don’t want to see him.”

“He wants you to eat him.”

Mumbo stiffened, a short, strangled sound crawling from his throat, but Scar shushed him gently, holding Mumbo’s hand tighter in turn.

“Just listen, lay here with me and listen before you freak out, alright?” Scar's voice was little more than a whisper, gentle force at Mumbo’s side serving to keep him still and as calm as he could stand to be.

“Why?” Mumbo croaked out, and felt Scar gesture vaguely with his head.

“He’s worried, mostly. He gets in his head about things, and he’s trying to solve them but he- well, he’s not the most tactful guy sometimes. I think he got scared when he saw you at the start of season ten; the last time he’d really seen you was after your break when you looked really bad.. He’s worried things are going to escalate to the point they did before, so he’s uh.. decided he’s gonna fix it. With cannibalism. When he’s talking about it to me it makes a lot of sense, but uh.. I mean, I guess it’s a little out there..”

“How do I make him stop. You have to- Scar, please make him stop.” Mumbo felt himself quivering in Scar’s hold, be it from fear or anger, he did not know.

“Oh, he won’t take it from me. I mean, he would if I was the guy he was trying to convince to eat other people, but he doesn’t always take secondhand advice like that. In this case, he’s way too zeroed in. You have to do it.”

“Well- fine. I’ll do it then, I’ll do it right now-“ Mumbo wriggled in Scar’s grip, but he held fast.

“Wait a minute- Not like that, no, not like that.” Scar almost laughed, but there was a little more stress there than anything.

“Not like what?” Mumbo huffed, annoyed. He pushed one last struggle, but gave in when Scar didn’t let go.

“You’ve got to be straight with Cub, you’ll put him off if you go about this too.. emotionally charged, let’s say. I’ll tell you exactly how to do it, I want to help you, Mumbo.”

Mumbo took a breath, then forced himself to relax, “Okay. Tell me. Please.”

Mumbo felt Scar straighten up behind him, then clear his throat, like he was about to address a crowd. “First, you gotta be as close to emotionless as you can make yourself. Fire up the coldest, deadest soul you can manage, and talk to him like you’ve just found out a close friend from like ten years ago got really sick, like really sick, terminal, and you don’t really know what to do, but the messenger of the news is looking awkward so you tell them it’s okay, it’s fine, but you don’t really feel fine, you know, your old friend is-“

“I understand, Scar,” Mumbo said, stuck between annoyance and a soft pang of amusement.

“Oh- alright,” Scar sounded a little embarrassed, but not offended, “Well I say that because Cub doesn’t- I know he doesn’t do this on purpose, and he’d probably be hurt if I said this to him so please don’t say anything, but he tends to take you less seriously when you approach him in an emotional kind of way. He really doesn’t mean to, he just gets a little confused I think, frustrated maybe. He doesn’t get it, is what I mean. He’s extremely bad at getting it. He’s sympathetic, but if you approach him and you’re emotional about it he’ll start thinking he knows better than you, in a ‘I’m just gonna take care of it for you,’ kinda way, which is completely infuriating, believe me, I know.”

“Are.. Are you guys okay?”

“Ah!” Scar jumped as if Mumbo had tazed him, “No no no! I’m just trying to explain it to you. I love Cub, he’s great, he’s the best. Literally. He’s just kind of an asshole sometimes. And he knows that, he doesn’t like being an asshole, so he listens when you tell him how it is.”

“Okay.. Then I’ll tell him I’m not going to eat him. And to stop bothering me.”

“No you won’t.”

Mumbo made a face, then gave in, “Okay. What will I tell him then.”

“You gotta tell him how he’s acting, right? You can’t tell him how what he’s doing makes you feel because he does not care, and he’ll probably tell you that, because when he’s made his mind up about something he seriously does not give a fuck unless you reach into his brain and shake it around a little. You gotta really take him by the temples and just shake.” Scar shook Mumbo a little for emphasis, Mumbo half fighting half chuckling as Scar dissolved into giggles.

“So I tell him that he’s being a prick and he should snap out of it before I get other people involved,” Mumbo sighed harshly, “Honestly, I shouldn’t even bother. I’ll just tell Grian. He’ll take care of it.”

“No, no,” Scar laughed, but it was a more nervous sound, like he knew just how serious Grian would take a matter like this, “That first bit is perfect. If you tell him that like you’re really serious- approach him first too, don’t wait for him to come to you- it’ll stop him right in his tracks. If that doesn’t work, call me. You don’t have to threaten him or anything, just make him see he’s not going about his business in the right way. I don’t do much more than tell him he’s being an asshole and he backs down. It’s magic.”

“Well- Okay. But I’m going to Grian if this doesn’t work.” Mumbo started to get up, but stopped when Scar squeezed his hand.

“Wait until tomorrow,” he said, quiet, “It’ll be better for you. Stay, rest today.” Even quieter still, he continued, “I’m sorry you’re going through something, Mumbo. If you ever want to get into the weeds I’m here, and you know Grian will be up and arms for you at the drop of a hat. It doesn’t.. It doesn’t matter what it is. To me especially, you have to know it doesn’t matter,” and with a small laugh, he said, “You could tell me you wanted to saw my head off with just your nails and I’d probably go yikes! I don’t think I’ll be very alive before you finish with the decapitation, but I'm free all day Wednesday, so we can give it a shot!”

“I’ll wait,” was all Mumbo could say. He hoped Scar would let it go now, but less than a minute later, he was speaking again.

“I just hope you know Cub’s got good intentions. He’s not trying to hurt you. I know it doesn’t always feel like that, especially when he can look you in the eyes and disregard your feelings because he’s more convinced he’s helping than he sees he’s upsetting you. I.. I’m also worried about you, if I’m being honest. It doesn’t take me finding you curled up in bed to know you haven’t been in the best shape lately. I don’t know the best way to go about this, Mumbo, and I don’t think- I don’t know if Cub.. I don’t always think he has the best way of going about things, but I understand where he’s coming from. I understand why. I know it’s difficult to extend him the kind of patience that you would for a closer friend, but please try. All of the hermits care about you, even the ones you don’t know well. We want to see you doing well.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore, Scar.”

Scar was quiet for a long moment. “Okay.”

…

Mumbo found Cub at the permit office where Scar told him Cub would probably be most consistently at least some part of the day. The idea of doing this in the permit office was most comforting for Mumbo, for the slim chance that Grian might also be there, might come up to Cub’s office and save him from the agony of this confrontation, though, the more logical part of Mumbo’s brain said that Grian was the wrong kind of person to convince Cub of anything. It was probably a good thing he never came in to work.

Mumbo had never been to the permit office before, but he couldn’t find an entrance, so grimacing, he poked a hole in the wall, replacing the blocks as he went. He climbed up the stairs with some issue (everything here seemed to be cluttered and difficult to find), then stopped before coming to the third floor, hesitating.

“Cub?” he called, feeling exceedingly stupid.

“Mumbo?” Cub nearly squawked, more than surprised, but this gave Mumbo some confidence, climbing the stairs to Cub’s office.

“Hello,” Mumbo said coolly, finding the even tone much easier to achieve now that he was face to face with Cub. Cub straightened his posture, and Mumbo, pleased to have gotten his attention, continued, “You’re being a prick.”

Cub blinked, then again a few times, but his expression stayed mostly the same. “Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Yes.” Cub tapped his nails on his desk, looking thoughtful.

“I’d like to know what you’re going to do about it. Because if things continue the way they’re going, I’m going to have Grian get involved, and that would be a mighty pain in your ass.”

Cub nodded like this made perfect sense, “I think that’s fair. I do not want that. How about you sit down, Mumbo.”

“I’d rather not.”

“That’s fine. Regardless, I’d like to have a conversation about this so we can work out what we’re going to do next.”

“I already know what’s going to happen here, Cub. You’re going to leave me alone, cut complete contact, or I’m getting other hermits involved. That’s where this is going.”

“I would appreciate it if we could talk first, because as much as I’m sure you have plenty of words to say about me, I have a few things to say of my own, and I think it’s only reasonable that I speak my peace before you call in the dogs. You can hear exactly what I want from my own mouth and decide for yourself how you’d like to move forward when I’m done.” Cub closed his eyes, then opened them a moment later, “Because it doesn’t matter if you pit the entire server against me, I’m a damn stubborn cunt in the face of the kind of adversity you’re threatening, and the easy way out is here, at my desk. If you sit here and listen to everything I have to say and still want out, then I will leave you alone.” Cub eyed his own chair distastefully, getting up and maneuvering to sit with his legs crossed on his desk instead. He brushed away the few papers and knickknacks he kept, pushing them onto the now empty chair. “My desk chair is meant to sit higher than the one where a client would sit, but that’s all roleplay, let’s ditch the nonsense.”

Mumbo frowned. He considered calling Scar, but that wouldn’t help him here. He sighed. For the peace of mind of never having to deal with Cub again, this seemed a small price to pay. Mumbo climbed onto Cub’s desk, awkward with his long legs.

“Okay. Speak then.”

“I’ll only leave you alone if you listen to everything I have to say, got it?”

“Just get on with it, Cub.”

Cub rolled his shoulders, seeming quite content with taking his time. And then Cub’s eyes narrowed, throwing Mumbo a look so fiercely knowing that Mumbo felt it pierce straight through his bleeding heart.

“Let me start with what I don’t care about, because as far as shit like this goes, I prefer to lay it all out on the table. When it comes to the hobbies of this server’s inhabitants, slowly torturing, dismembering, and eventual eating alive of animals is pretty low of my list of Things That Make Me Feel Good but ultimately high on my list of Things I Don’t Really Give A Fuck About, and given everything I know about you, Mumbo, I don’t think you’re psychotic, I think you probably have a pretty good reason to do those things you do thousands of blocks out from spawn. And before you start squabbling at me, I found out in season eight, Scar knows because I told him, and I’m 99% sure Grian knows, but he never told me so and I haven’t directly asked him. I’m willing to bet he’s known since season six though, probably weeks within the first day he met you. If anyone else knows, I haven’t been told about it.”

Mumbo covered his gaping mouth with a quivering hand. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. Part of him wanted to lunge forward and silence Cub, but that wouldn’t stop him. It wouldn’t keep him from coming back. Cub did not look sympathetic. If anything, he looked angry.

“What do you need, Mumbo.” It wasn’t a question.

Mumbo didn’t answer.

“What do you need. What do you need? Why are you hiding it? What’s the damn point? If you need to eat, Mumbo, fucking eat, wasting away isn’t doing anything or anyone, especially not you.”

“It’s not about me.”

“Is it not?” Cub asked snidely, whatever neutral patience he’d been holding onto before evaporating, “What, you don’t want to hurt anyone? Are you a monster, Mumbo, because you have a little thirst for human blood? Join the fucking club! I can not for the life of me figure out what’s going on in your head- Do you think you’re better than the rest of us? Don’t want to stoop so low? What’s your damn problem! More than half of the server would lay themselves out on a platter for you on a whim of cannibalism related curiosity! Forget it if you need to eat people to survive; even the hermits you haven’t spoken to in months would cut themselves open for you! Have you opened your eyes in the past ten years? We’re all fucking deranged!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mumbo felt the coolness come easy to him, encompassing him like black tar, “You’re making an ass out of yourself, jumping to conclusions like you can read minds.”

“You don’t give anyone much of a choice but to speculate.”

“Then I’ll lay it out for you,” Mumbo felt the rumble of a growl in his throat, expecting Cub to bite back, but he did not, silent, waiting. “Eating is not a matter of meat, not for me. Meat in the final step, but alone it is nothing, just a conduit. I need terror. I need hopelessness, despair, the kind that builds over years and years of terrorizing and watching your back and holding tightly to the things you love because you don’t know how much longer you can stand to stay, to hold them. Trying every avenue of escape, but it’s never enough. Drawing it out, leaving you alone just long enough that you think it might be safe, you think it might be over, but it’s never over. The only thing you can do is leave everything behind, find a new world, and hope to whatever higher power you believe in that I don’t follow. This isn’t as simple as asking for permission, Cub. When I finally decide it’s over, this world will end. You can not convince an animal otherwise. Animals only want to eat, grow, feel full. I will never be full. I don’t think I can be full. I can escape to sentience for a little while, spite that animal inside me, starve, but I have a feeling I’m only allowed to do so because it makes the upcoming meal that much sweeter. Betrayal, fear, hurt. To answer your questions, that’s what I need. You can tell the whole server, and it will not change the outcome. You can’t get rid of me. I won’t stop until Hermitcraft and all the history of its seasons, held in this one server, is completely abandoned.”

Cub was quiet for a long few moments after Mumbo was done, thinking, considering. “Right,” he said, almost like he didn’t believe him, the carelessness of that one word enough to make Mumbo want to bite his head right off. “That makes a lot more sense.” Then under his breath, trailing off, “..a little dramatic, but..”

“Does it.” Mumbo seethed, though part of him didn’t even know why. The callousness, the disregard- maybe he was angry that Cub wasn’t afraid because it made for a worse build up, a modicum less satisfying in the end. Maybe he was angry because Cub didn’t seem to care, and he should.

“What are you? Never heard of anything like that.” Again Cub continued casually, and despite Mumbo’s seething, his anger eased slightly at the question, reasonable enough.

“I don’t have a name. Over the years victims pass rumors of my existence around, but I’m hardly widespread enough to surpass the standard obscurity in worlds of temporary horrors. As far as I know I’m the only one of my kind,” Mumbo paused, shrugging, “Guess that’s not super likely though.”

“How old are you? You look like you’re in your twenties, maybe early thirties.”

“I don’t know. I tend to match the age of the people around me. It’s not a conscious effort.” Mumbo’s anger was starting to fade, replaced instead by a deep confusion, possibly a small amount of relief. He had very little idea what was happening here, what Cub was trying to get at, but he’d never been able to.. talk about this. Ever. Even his shadow didn’t seem to know how to feel, the both of them side eyeing each other from their places on Cub’s desk.

“Oh, I don’t mean now. I mean like- forever. In total, since you were born, or.. whatever created you.”

“I don’t remember when I started to exist. Atoms aren’t very concerned with the passage of time, nor are plants and animals. For the majority of my existence I did not count the years. Even now, I don’t count them like people do. I only want to know how long I can hold my sentience before it’s gone again.”

“Ah. So like. Really old. Really really old. Wow. I knew your body could change, I’ve seen it, but you can be different species altogether?”

Mumbo shifted uncomfortably at the idea of having been watched. He could not afford to feel shame for the animals he consumed, but he really didn’t like the idea that multiple hermits may have witnessed what he was doing and not said a word. He was always so careful- even then, if someone was following him, Mumbo was certain he would be able to sense their fear. Maybe he didn’t notice over the screams of jackrabbits. It was entirely too possible. Cub seemed unconcerned about Mumbo’s silence, continuing to ask questions almost like he was speaking to himself, like he didn’t need or want the answers because theorizing was entertaining enough.

“Can I see it? See you change?” Was the question that snapped Mumbo back to reality, the utter stupidity of the words rousing him back to life.

“If you’d like to see me lose my sentience in real time then paint the floor in your blood, sure Cub, whatever you want.”

Cub paused, almost consideringly, like he’d completely missed the sarcasm, “Maybe another time. What about something sentient? Can you do that? Like a vex- Like Scar and I! I mean, I honestly don’t know if the little guys are very sentient, so best not try-“

But Mumbo was already rolling his eyes, resigned to doing circus pony tricks, and the ethereal blue skin that painted Cub and Scar’s vex forms rippled across his own, dark hair curling into streaks of white, small wings fluttering at his back. Without entirely knowing what he was doing, he raised his newly clawed hands in a playful splay, hissing for emphasis, then let the whole change ripple away, returning to his human form. Cub looked spellbound, and the attention felt dangerous, appealing to Mumbo far more than he thought safe.

“That’s incredible! Oh, Scar would get a real kick out of that! You’ve got to show him!”

“I- It’s really nothing,” Mumbo rubbed the back of his neck, deeply unsure how to feel about this, but certainly mounting in alarm, “I’m not- I’m not showing Scar, I’m not doing that again-“

“Can you turn into other people? Can you look like me?”

“I- Probably? I mean I’m sure I can, I don’t really have limits, but this isn’t something I-“

“Try? Can you try? You don’t have limits? Okay we’ll go back to that later. Can you try?”

“We aren’t- we aren’t going back to anything!” Mumbo squeaked in his distress, but Cub was so genuinely interested, so genuinely impressed that Mumbo didn’t- he’d never experienced something like this before. So he gave in and tried, though, ‘tried’ implies there was any effort at all when in reality it was quite easy, basically second nature, until the change was complete and his mind seemed to double over on itself, the same but entirely different, thinking his thoughts but in completely different ways, stalling Mumbo where he sat, paralyzed by the horrors of a new inner working. Almost immediately he changed back, heaving shallow breaths as his mind caught up with the speed of his thoughts.

“Whoa- That was- Are you okay?” Cub stopped in his tracks, apparently failing to notice the internal explosion that occurred in Mumbo’s head.

“I am never doing that again.”

“What-“

“Your brain is awful,” Mumbo heaved, and Cub blinked, and Mumbo knew exactly what was happening, that Cub was processing, everything inside of him sluggish and those pauses, all those times he paused between sentences, it made sense now.

“You copied my body and mind?” Cub breathed, and Mumbo was still reeling so hard from the momentary terror of being in Cub’s head that he could not respond, “That’s- I mean maybe I should have guessed that might happen if you’re changing completely, but- I don’t know! I wonder why you reacted so badly if you were just me, because I wouldn’t have cared, I’ve lived here all my life. Maybe you keep part of your own head? The internal dialogue? Oh- Maybe you didn’t get my whole brain, you just got all the mental illness. In that case, I am very sorry. I bet you’d inherit physical problems too, the ones that don’t get fixed by respawns. Scar’s sickness, for example. Wow. That is really cool. I’ve never needed to cut someone open so badly in my entire life. Can I study you? I’m asking but I really don’t want to be asking. I know I said I wouldn’t pester you after this was over but I have way too many questions.” Mumbo was honestly shocked Cub could talk so fast in a brain like that, but then again, he hadn’t stuck around to find out the complexities. Maybe it only sounded fast because Mumbo’s own head was fried.

“Okay, so how do we kill you?”

Mumbo blinked up at that. “What?”

“If you go crazy, how do we kill you? Stop you, whatever.”

“Okay- one. This isn’t about ‘if’s’ so don’t get in your head about it. And you can’t stop me either, that’s not how this works. I don’t just die.”

“You can die perfectly well right now,” Cub pointed out, unconcerned.

“Well- sure. But it doesn’t matter if you kill me or not in any form, I don’t stay dead.”

“That’s fine,” Cub said, tapping his fingers impatiently on his legs, “Just tell me how. When you were hunting all those pigs you didn’t look like you got hurt or even bled.”

Mumbo huffed, impatient himself, “Well if you want to kill me, you’d better do it instantly. I don’t sustain any injuries if I don’t want to, the skin heals over as soon as whatever’s hit me is gone.”

“So if I wanted to keep you somewhere, I’d impale you. Get you in the head or heart, or maybe not some place lethal.”

“You can’t keep me anywhere, I’ll just change.”

“Ah, right. Then I’ll have to convince you not to somehow. How do you feel about peoples’ suffering if you’re not the one inflicting it? Can you tell the difference between a real scream and a fake one?” Cub talked casually like this was a simple matter of problem solving, far too animated, almost like it was fun.

“I- I don’t know, Cub, but I don’t think this is a very productive line of thought.”

“Why not? I mean, I’ll have years I’m sure to experiment on my own, but while you’re here and talking to me I think I should take advantage, don’t you?”

“You can’t stop me!” Mumbo nearly shouted in his distress, though Cub remained unperturbed.

“Is this Mumbo Jumbo the sentient human talking or Mumbo Jumbo the flesh eating terror, because if I may, you’re sounding suspiciously like the flesh eating terror.”

“You- You have no idea what you’re dealing with. This isn’t something you can stop or fight, Cub, I’ve lived hundreds of lives and worlds where everyone I’ve ever befriended has-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Cub interrupted him, “I don’t care. However, maybe you’re right that prepping for the worst case scenario isn’t a great use of our time because who knows how much you’ve got left. Let’s see what we can do to extend it first, yeah? If we can do that indefinitely, then there’s no problem!”

“I’ve already tried everything, Cub-“

“Have you tried cannibalism?”

“No, but-“

“Then you have not tried everything. What’s your deal? Why are you so against it? I understand your methods are a tad more intense, but who cares. Y’know, I bet this would be more effective against someone who isn’t going to see it coming. Scar is a prime candidate, but Grian would be even better for your purposes.”

Mumbo blanched, reddening in turn as anger brought flush to his face, “I am not going to attack anyone without telling them! What is wrong with you?”

Cub raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, “If you want to maximize the time you have with sentience, you should take advantage of the beginning when no one understands why you’re doing what you’re doing. For the purpose of farming enough suffering to last you, it seemed reasonable, but yeah, probably a little extreme. Still, I think you’re going to have to ease up on the ethics here if we’re going to figure something out.”

“I’m not- No, Cub. I’m telling you no.”

“Why?” It was Cub’s turn to be frustrated, scowling as he rolled his eyes.

“Because I would feel bad!”

Cub nearly hissed, throwing up his arms, “For fuck’s sake! Are we not past that? I thought your whole issue is that you make friends then torture them to death a thousand times before moving on and doing it again. Why do you suddenly have problems now that you have a willing participant?”

“Because I’m sentient, Cub!”

“You’re cowardly is what you are. Get over it.”

“Right, sure, yeah, I’ll just do that.”

“Great!” Cub huffed, “I’m ready then! Go on, paint the floor red or whatever you said about my blood. Get it all over. Give me a reason to be afraid.”

“I can’t. I don’t- You don’t get it. I spend so much time in this body doing my best to make up for everything I’ve done. I’m glad that you don’t seem to have a guilty conscience, but it’s not so easy to know the full weight of the horrors you’ve committed and the pain you will bring again because you can’t stop. What’s the point of spending the rest of my time here inflicting the same kind of suffering I will when I lose my head. You think you can stop it, but you’re wrong. You are wrong. I am past delaying the inevitable. Let me have this. Let me starve. I will do all I can for the server in my last months. I won’t live here just as I would live as a dog. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth inflicting, knowing exactly the harm I’m bringing and wanting more all the same. And that’s in the case that everyone here is magically okay with being stalked and tortured to death until I crack regardless, no, I refuse to believe even you would want to live like that.”

Cub stared at Mumbo for a long moment, searching, though for what Mumbo didn’t know. “You’re guilty,” he mumbled, like this wasn’t obvious, “You think you deserve to starve.”

“Of course,” Mumbo replied, struggling between his own shame and the hot anger simmering below his skin.

“I don’t think so,” he said, like it was just that simple. Mumbo opened his mouth to argue, or maybe just scream, but Cub interrupted him, “Regardless of what you are now, Mumbo, you are not human. You can take the shape of a person, you can do and feel the things that people do, but you are not one, not really. You’re something else. This ‘something’ doesn’t have a name, but you have different needs. You are not a person. Why is it so evil for you to take what you need, Mumbo? I mean, sure, you can’t expect to take what you need from the friends you’ve made and keep those friends all the same, but you are not bad for taking. You are hungry. You are hunting, and you are eating. It’s callous of humanity to consider themselves above this dynamic of the food chain. We are not. Nor are you, most likely. There’s always a bigger fish.”

“It’s not the same. I am far crueler than any animal you can name, and I know better.”

“Do you think dolphins deserve to suffer for hunting fish?”

“Cub, I told you it’s-“

“Many things eat their prey alive,” Cub interrupted coolly, “You found a renewable source of food, one that feels emotions stronger than any other options, comes back to life, and fears you greater each time. You are not a person, Mumbo, you are a predator that hunts people. It doesn’t matter if you ‘know better.’ You need to eat. You need it. Talking ethics, if you want to ease your guilt, you should limit the time you spend interacting with people in the body you’ve made for yourself, but even then, you’re only preparing yourself a better meal. It is not evil. People can hate you for it, but that’s not any different from how a rabbit might hate a fox. It is not any different.”

Mumbo quieted, knowing little of what to say. It was different. It was different because Mumbo hated doing it, he hated having to do it, he hated fighting with himself, and he hated being This. He liked people. He liked being a person, he liked living among them, he liked it all so much more than he liked himself.

“But I don’t want to. I don’t want to need it. I want to stay here, stay human. I want to be human. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well,” Cub said, voice softer, sympathetic for the first time since Mumbo had joined him on his desk. “That’s a separate can of worms, isn’t it.”

Mumbo didn’t speak for a long time. He kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see Cub. Cub, who was looking at him, looking directly through him.

“I guess so.” The words were so quiet, they hardly passed Mumbo’s lips before they were nothing.

“Well, here’s what I think, Mumbo,” Cub started, the softness dissipating in favor of something calmer, more logical, “I think you have a lot to say about what will or won’t keep you sentient longer, but for someone so confident cannibalism won’t work, you certainly haven’t tried it. So you’re going to try it. See if this can be a temporary possible-solution until we can find a more permanent one. I need time to work this out, and I refuse to let you keep starving yourself out of shame.”

“You- What? You think you can-“

“I don’t think I can do anything,” Cub interrupted, voice hard, “But those woodland mansions have a hell of a lot of books, and I happen to enjoy looking through them. Scar and I are always looking for something to do. So.” Cub looked back at Mumbo from where he was staring out the window, “Are you willing to try? It’s a little cramped in here, so I think it would be better to go somewhere else, somewhere I could run from you, if you like that. Outside might be ideal as well, so we don’t have to clean up so much. We could probably-“

“I- Wait, Cub, please wait,” Mumbo needed to interrupt him, needed to stop him, but when Cub did stop, waiting for Mumbo to continue, he found his mouth dry.

“What.”

“I can’t. Not yet. I’m not ready.”

Cub looked just about ready to kill him, and honestly Mumbo didn’t blame him, but the mental block was still there, he was just so- he didn’t even know, and maybe that was the worst part. He was scared. His limbs were stiff and numb, and even with the shrill screams of desperate starvation in his ears, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Cub took a long, deep breath, barely holding on to his composure, “Mumbo, if we don’t do something to stall for time-“

“Eat me. Eat me first. Do it all, everything I would do to you, draw it out, make it hurt. I need- I need to know how it feels. I need this.”

Cub paused, eyes narrowed in thought. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Mumbo. You don’t need more excuses to back down. I’ve had my fair share of being torn apart, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’ll do it. I promise I’ll do it, I’ll eat my whole damn fill if you want me to, Cub, but I need this first. I have to know.” Mumbo had no idea where this had come from; the feverish desperation, but now it was all he could think about, knowing, he had to know, he had to face what he’d done directly, and then he could swallow this pill and move on.

Cub considered him, eyes still narrowed.

“Alright. Fine.” he closed his eyes, inclining his head then opening them with a smile, “We’ll do it in the labyrinth.”

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #mumbo jumbo #convex #tw: cannibalism #tw: violence #hermitfic #hermitcraft fic

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theplotdemandsit · 1 month

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Takes place at the end of 1x01 of The Umbrella Academy

Five isn’t used to being cared for.

The first time he suffered a serious injury was 46 days (back then, he was still counting by days) after he got stranded in the future. He doesn’t remember it as vividly as he used to, but the fear is still visceral.

That day, it only took one wrong move over the rubble of a gas station to send him crashing to the rocks. He immediately knew something was wrong when he saw the blood gush from under his forearm and the bloody rebar beneath it.

He was lucky it hadn’t nicked the radial artery, but the cut went deep enough it could have. Five doesn’t remember it vividly, but he remembers how his arms wouldn’t stop shaking as he grabbed the wound, instinctively trying to stop the bleeding. He remembers screaming and crying in that gas station for way too long before recalling that no one could hear him. No one would be coming to help.

Even after managing to patch himself up (poorly—he didn’t know how to do stitches on himself back then so the scar was incredible) the infection that came after left him delirious and practically immobile. Except he could move because he had to. He had to find antibiotics or that would be it. He would die like everyone else.

There was no one to console him anymore, no brothers to congratulate him on survival and idiocy, no mother to tell him which medications to take, no sisters to sneak him junk food in the infirmary. It was just him.

Five isn’t used to being cared for, so when Vanya stares at the minor cut on his arm that he’s already wrapped up—albeit crudely—he feels oddly disconnected. He came to talk, so why did she seem so distracted by the blood on his clothes?

Though…he hasn’t exactly talked to ordinary people he wasn’t planning to kill for a while now. A literal lifetime ago.

Because you’ll listen.

Vanya suddenly stands exiting the room without a word, and for a moment Five thinks that’s it. She’s done with him. But then she’s rounding the corner again, hands full of cheap medical supplies.

My arm, he realizes. She wants to bandage my arm.

His mind is working sluggishly, exhaustion worming its way into his bones and dimming his sense of fight and flight instincts. It would be easy to repeat himself, tell her he was fine and that she didn’t need to waste her first aid kit on him; but his body moves anyway, and he finds himself pulling back the sleeve of his bloodied uniform.

And while her eyes are fixed on his scratch, his are fixed on her.

She winces as she inspects his arm, using gauze to wipe away the blood. She focuses seriously as she works—so serious to the point where Five might have laughed if he’d had the energy. Man, he really wishes he could have gotten that cup of coffee.

While in the Commission, people had seen him bloodied and injured before. Civilians got a glimpse of a graze every now and then, the doctors back at Headquarters would fix him up on the rare occasion he hurt himself beyond his own doctoring capabilities, the Handler would wash her eyes over him every time they met.

But those eyes were different. Pitying eyes, sympathizing eyes, indifferent eyes, and whatever disturbing look the Handler always seemed to have in hers. Not like what he’s seeing now. Not…this.

There is a softness to her face as she cleaned the cut. A gentleness foreign to him. Pain has long since been forgotten. He can’t take his eyes off her.

But…then again. She had barely met him in the eyes at all every time they talked today. Maybe she was just using his injury to distract her from actually facing him.

Yeah, that was it. After all, how could anyone care for someone they hadn’t seen in 17 years?

Just me still dealing with S4. This is fine. Crossposted on Ao3 under the same handle. I'm thinking I'll do another 4 of these. Cause why not. I'm sure I'll still be obsessed with this fandom by the time I finish.

#five hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #umbrella academy #hurt and comfort #my writing

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littlemissprettyprincess · 2 years

Note

This is for everyone who seems to be "struggling" with states + what I can suggest + My success story.

-Have you ever been one of those people to reach "that moment" in manifestation where you wanted to be, even if you have never either it doesn't matter. You know how much of an outsider and annoyed/obsessive over loa when seeing other people succeed and couldnt really find what would work for me. Sounds like you, huh? You are not the only one, I'll tell you exactly how to get out of there + master your manifesting skills and a bit of self-concept.

The. answer. is. staring. right. at your face.............................................Yes.

"But anon, wdym by that??" What I mean is that notice how all of these people who post their success stories are in the state of easy/effortless manifestation. Like they mention how easy it is and how effective it is. Thats because of their state, they chose to occupy the state of someone who does the bare minimum in loa and still gets wtf they want. It doesnt matter how many times you repeat your affs, persist, mental diet, you wanna know why you waste energy doing that? Is because your occupying the state of "difficult manifesting", meaning you obsess over it, you try so hard but "nothing" comes, you feel you need to do the most to get it. Notice how all of these points I made fall under the state of "difficult manifestation"?? if you were in that state, those things I just mentioned would've been what you experience. Why?? BECAUSE YOU OCCUPIED THE STATE OF SOMEONE WHO ISNT SUCCESSFUL IN MANFESTING!!!

A thing I def reccomend when using states to manifest is to understand the 4D IS THE TRUE REALITY AND NOT THE 3D. Yes I know you're tired of hearing the same thing but now that you have a shifted paradigm on states, it should be easier. What I did was know that the 4d is the blueprint, kind of put it on the pedestal but not in the negative way. It was a way where I didn't ignore the 3d and affirm against it, but focused on my 4d and stuck with it. Because "ignoring the 3d and affirming agains it" simply implies that your 3d is filled with undesirable things and you affirm against it.

Cause trust me I've been there when I say living in my 4d was making me crazy, but you know why it did? Was because I looked at the 3d for validation/ didnt trust what my 4d is saying. It's kind of like y'know when you like a guy/girl and your friend warns you to stay away from that person but you get annoyed at them because you think what they're saying is bullshit?? Same thing applies. If you dont trust your 4d and realise it creates the 3d and is so much more powerful than what you experience, when will living in the end ever be a fullfilling thing to do? Get it? "Fullfilled" LMFAOO I'm so hilarious, but enough of my corny jokes. Heres a summary

-Be in the state of someone who is a master at manifesting/self concept etc.

-Know that your 4d creates everything, when its done in your 4d, its done in 3d, a simple way to put this is just live in your mind because when you realise that, you change your imagination, you change your reality and there is so much power in knowing that.

-ANNDDD THENNN you can apply everything else like persisting, repeating affs etc.

I got perfect self-concept doing this, like I got compliments today and I felt so confident, I love the way I'm so pretty, like why am I so perfect and gorgeous?

I manifested many straight niggas to like me at my school (im black and gay) let me tell you!!! a nigga stopped and walked back and stared at me to see "Damn who is that??" I was laughing so hard.

Overall my life has improved, I get things to go my way and yeah. thats about my successes. I might start a blog but because of how disrespectful anons are Idk if I should.

-tysm lovies, stay hot nd mysterious, and know how powerful you are!!!! stop wavering!!!!!

omg, thank you so much for sharing this ! i hope this helps some people ! ♡

#🌷 listen to this ! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#🎀 success story ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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livsoulsecrets · 1 month

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Klaus&Ben Fic - I am not scared of death

Written for @fandombingo Martian Bingo prompts: “I’m running out of miracles” and “Puncture Wound”.

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV).

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences.

Summary: Ben has been losing control of his powers since he turned sixteen. When it happens during one of the Umbrella Academy’s missions, Klaus is the only one left to help.

Read on AO3.

The Horror sat low at his gut.

It stirred when Ben smelt blood. It lashed out to taste it. It retreated when it was satisfied.

Ben could feel its hunger seeping deep into his bones, threatening to swallow him whole.

The Horror had no language, but Ben understood it all the same. He didn’t know where it came from or how his body became its vessel, but he had felt it stirring within himself for as long as he could remember.

His siblings were the only people in the world who weren’t scared by it.

Even the people they saved looked at him with a poorly disguised look of disgust and fear. It didn’t matter that he had just saved their lives when all they saw was a monster.

Reginald was mostly intrigued by the Horror. He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact it couldn’t be controlled either, but at least that had kept him and his experiments away.

It was nearly impossible to know where it ended and where Ben began.

The Horror took over for his overwhelmed mind in the split of a second when danger was near, and, at the slightest threat, it lashed its fury without hesitation.

That was the reason why Ben had always been careful about his own strength, especially during missions.

That day was no different. He had waited until the thugs ran towards the distraction Luther, Diego, and Allison were causing in the east wing of the warehouse before tapping into his power.

He made sure they were out of reach and rushed into the room with Klaus in tow, ready to release the hostages.

And then he heard the telltale sound of gunfire to his left, and the world turned red.

He turned around, and the tentacles exploded in color and movement. He willed one of them towards Klaus and pushed his brother behind him, away from danger.

The rest of them engulfed the guns of the five outstanding thugs and ripped them away.

Three of them reached for new weapons, and the Horror wasted no time tearing them apart.

The metallic taste of blood had stopped bothering Ben by the time he was seven, but the stickiness it left on his skin and clothes was the worst part of the job even after all those years.

“Stand down,” he ordered, holding the Horror back as he faced the two men still standing across from him.

One of them threw his hands up and fell to his knees, begging for mercy.

The other paled considerably, shaking where he stood. Ben took his desperation for defeat.

He arched his back, commanding the tentacles to retreat.

And that was his mistake.

Because the desperate man across from him wasn’t surrendering.

He reached inside his coat and pulled a knife out. He threw it across the short distance between them, and Ben was too slow—too weak—to dodge it.

It lodged on his shoulder with a sharp pain. He yelled as his vision clouded and the Horror attacked again.

Ben barely registered its actions as it tore his attacker apart. He fell to his knees, reaching for the knife.

Somewhere on his mind, he knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he pulled it off anyway.

There were enough things lodged in his body he had no control over. He would not add this nameless thug’s knife to the list.

Distantly, he registered the screaming. A high-pitched cry from a young woman and uncontrollable sobbing from a grown man. Klaus calling for him. The Horror humming with energy, aching for more, reaching blindly into their surroundings.

Klaus, loud and bright and real. “Ben! Ben, look at me. Ben, get the fuck up!”

His vision snapped into focus. He lifted his head, acutely aware of the blood dripping down his chest.

He couldn’t tell if it was his or not.

The scene he found was chaos.

The Horror had taken hold of two of the hostages and the thug who surrendered, lifting them in the air.

Ben had lost control in the middle of his own pain.

He had hurt those who posed no threats. He had become one with the monster within him, and it was only through his subconscious fighting against the intrusion that he had managed not to tear those bystanders apart too.

“Ben, you need to put them down,” Klaus told him, carefully approaching his brother.

“I’m trying,” Ben grunted, because he was. He was fighting the hunger and the bloodthirst, and he was losing.

The tentacles tightened even more, and he hoped to God he hadn’t broken any bones.

“I know. I know you are, Benny,” Klaus agreed. He was standing by his side now, and Ben resisted the urge to shove him as far away from this mess as he could.

“It thinks they hurt us too,” he spat out through gritted teeth. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead when his jaw clenched painfully. “It wants blood.”

Klaus paled considerably, desperately looking back and forth between his brother and the tentacles.

“Don’t know how much longer I can hold it off,” Ben told him. “You need to get out of here.”

“Fuck no,” Klaus replied.

“You have to,” Ben yelled. “If this goes wrong, you’re dead. It’ll take a miracle to get this under control.”

Klaus smiled like the freak he was. He shrugged in a nonchalant manner that hardly belonged to the battlefield. “You have always been good with those. You save our asses all the time.”

“I think I’m running out of miracles,” Ben cried out, forcing himself to stand up again when Klaus pulled him to his feet.

Klaus looked around, desperately searching for a solution. His eyes landed on the knife Ben had dropped on the floor.

“I think I just found our miracle,” his brother announced.

Ben saw the exact moment a madman’s plan formed in his brother’s mind.

“Don’t,” he snapped, but Klaus was already moving. “Klaus!”

Ben tried to reach for his brother and failed—he was spread thin between the blood loss and his rebellious power.

He could only watch as Klaus rushed forward to grab the weapon.

He watched in terror as his brother threw the knife towards one of the tentacles.

Ben immediately felt a sharp pain when the blade slashed the tentacle’s flesh.

In the split second it took the Horror to process the new threat, it lessened its hold on its targets.

It was all Ben needed to summon it back to him.

He kicked Klaus to the side, successfully avoiding a tentacle that had snapped itself towards him, and felt the tentacles’ familiar weight retreating back into his stomach.

Ben’s knees weakened, and he stumbled forward. He trembled down the next second, his back hitting the hard concrete floor with a loud noise.

The hurried footsteps of terrified people soured through the room. Ben forced himself to breathe, forced the bile to retreat, and his eyes to remain open.

Klaus crawled to him, sliding over the blood and viscera on the floor with little care for the mess.

“Way to go, Benerino,” he mumbled. “Never a dull day with you, is it?”

Ben crooked his head to face him. Klaus threw a hand to his shoulder and pressured the bleeding wound there.

“I could have killed you,” he whispered, horrified by how true that was.

Klaus shook his head. “You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I could have,” he wanted to scream. “You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know how much worse it has become.”

“I don’t,” Klaus replied.

“You don’t know…” Ben tried again, but his words were slurring together, all their meaning lost to his worn-out body.

He had lost too much blood. He had fought too hard and caused too much damage.

He would be out of commission for days. Ben distantly wondered if Reginald would punish him for that too when he learned about this mess.

“I do know you, though,” Klaus told him in the unusually serious tone he loathed having to use. “You wouldn’t kill me.”

“I almost killed them,” he countered.

“But you didn’t. I saved your sorry ass for a change,” Klaus replied, cursing under his breath. “Where the fuck are the others? I can’t carry you out alone.”

Ben felt his consciousness slipping away, even as Klaus slapped him in the face to keep him awake.

“Do not pull this shit on me,” his brother ordered.

The last thing Ben thought before the darkness was that he had never heard Klaus sound so scared.

———

Ben woke up in the infirmary.

His shoulder was covered in gauze, and there was an IV line attached to his arm.

He blinked a few times, adjusting to the dark. Ben brought his fingers to touch the bandage, wincing as the contact sent a burning sensation through his arm.

“The knife was dirty as hell,” Klaus’ voice sounded from the darkness. “You had an infection. Luckily Grace noticed it as soon as we brought you in.”

Ben would have startled if the thought of moving wasn’t so painful.

“How long have I been out?” He rasped.

“A day and a half,” Klaus answered, picking up a glass of water and passing it to him. Ben drank carefully, despite his desperate thirst.

“Did you… Did you tell them?” He asked next.

Klaus shook his head. “I said you were attacked and passed out right after.”

Ben released a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Klaus.”

Klaus shrugged and waved the gratitude away with a flick of his wrist.

“Does it happen a lot?” Klaus asked, tracing patterns against his oversized pajama pants. Ben’s whole body froze.

“No,” he lied.

Because it didn’t use to happen, not at all.

He and the Horror had always been one, but since his sixteenth birthday, Ben felt like an outsider inside his own body.

The carcass of his being didn’t belong to him anymore.

Ben was the Horror’s to use.

He couldn’t risk Reginald finding out and subjecting him to his terrible experiments.

He couldn’t tell his siblings only to be benched and left out of missions.

Ben needed the thrill of the battle and its victims to feed the monster in his entrails, because what would happen if he didn’t, and the next time the Horror got hungry, it fed on his siblings instead?

He would rather have the Horror kill him and a thousand strangers than let it harm his siblings.

“It was my fault, really. I haven’t slept properly since that bank robbery last Thursday,” he lied again. “The Horror has been paranoid ever since. It lashed out when it felt threatened.”

Klaus nodded, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

Ben wondered when was the last time his brother had slept too. His usual paleness had become more pronounced, and so had the bags under his eyes.

He scooted over, careful not to jostle his IV. He made room on the infirmary bed and motioned for his brother to join him.

Klaus quickly climbed into his side, understanding the meaning behind his gesture.

Ben’s body immediately relaxed when his brother rested his head on his unharmed shoulder and threw an arm over him.

“Be more careful next time, you idiot,” Klaus ordered. “I don’t want to have to stab you again. Especially when you’re already hurt.”

Ben laughed weakly and had to hold his own chest when the pain worsened with the movement.

“I’ll try my best,” he promised, because that was all he had to offer.

Ben was terrified. He feared the only way this battle between man and monster would end was with one of them dead.

He feared he wasn’t strong enough to win it. And that his family would be hurt in the crossfire.

But Klaus had been there. He had hurt the Horror on purpose to help him, and Ben had managed to contain his power.

He had to believe that was enough.

He had to believe the only casualty of that war would be himself, if it came down to it.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Klaus muttered. “It’s keeping me awake.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, and shifted to rest his head against Klaus’.

Sleep shouldn’t have come to him so easily, not after being unconscious for so long and with the heavy weight of guilt over his shoulders, but it did.

Maybe it was because of Klaus’ solid presence tucked into his side or the absence of judgment his brother offered.

Either way, Ben closed his eyes and pressed closer to Klaus.

His siblings were all home and safe. Klaus hadn’t pulled away from him despite his faults.

He would live to fight another day, and, for now, that was enough.

#ben hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua #hargreeves siblings #my fics #tua fanfic #ben and klaus #Martianbingo #Martian Bingo #fandombingo #fandom bingo

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arvensimp · 1 year

Text

Senza Mamma

just a little bit of whump with a heck of a lot of major character death. please do not read if major character death is something that bothers you in fics

also of course major spoilers for the ending of pokemon scarlet

happy mother's day uwu

"Go, on! We'll follow as soon as we can!" Arven called out to his little buddy, still facing the barrage of brute bonnets before him.

Penny and Nemona had already run off to prevent more paradox Pokemon from wreaking havoc on the ecosystem, so for now it was just him, Mabosstiff, and the rest of the team. They'd all healed up at the last pit stop, that pathetic excuse for a research...lab...thing.

He'd read what Mom wrote in her journal. What she'd said about his father. About needing help...

Her weird, mechanical voice echoes in his head.

He can't think too hard about it right now. There's Pokemon to beat back, and Mabosstiff is raring to go!

This isn't like last time. It won't be like that. He's stronger now. Mabosstiff is stronger! He's not alone! Sure, he's...kind of alone...but his friends aren't too far, plus he's got five other Pokemon to help!

It's okay. He's strong. Stronger than before.

...except, how strong is strong enough when these pokemon just don't stop coming? It's like the moment he beats back two bonnets, four more crop up, with a flutter mane along for the hell of it. Then once they're gone, there's eight more, and so on.

Garganacl's salt cure can only do so much, and while it takes a minute, the pokemon is eventually down for the count.

Greedant, Cloyster, Toedscruel, and Scovillain follow not long after.

There's just...there's too many of them! He can't be expected to take on this many Pokemon by himself, can he?

"Nemona! Penny! Any time now! We could really use some backup here!" Arven calls into the gleaming, empty space.

They should be back now, right? Unless they've also been overtaken by these creatures?

He considers running, bolting for the cavernous lab door, but no. Then the pokemon would just follow him inside, and he can't barricade himself, his mom, and his buddy in there. That would basically defeat the purpose of why everyone came down here anyway.

He calls out again to no avail.

Arven prioritizes the use of revives on Garganacl and Mabosstiff, trying to keep his strategically most viable pokemon battle-capable if not necessarily battle-ready. The medicine works, but they're clearly tired.

Eventually Garganacl falls, hitting the ground with a thud so loud, Arven flinches, almost surprised the Pokemon didn't burst into bits of table salt but equally glad it was able to return to its ball.

There's still three more bonnets wriggling closer and closer.

Arven sighs. "Okay, bud. We can handle this." He squeezes the PokeBall tight in his fist before releasing Mabosstiff out into the cave.

"We'll show these brutes what we're made of!"

The dog barks, deep and gruff, not showing a hint of his fatigue.

He isn't trying to avoid terastalization exactly, but at the same time he's not totally sure if it's a last resort or if he can even do it more than once down here? What with all the tera-energy-crystal-rock-things, but... Well this seems like Last Resort time.

Arven fishes the tera orb from his pocket and activates it, similar to how a normal PokeBall would grow in size after having its button pressed. He feels that tell-tale energy surging through the device, shaking and thrumming with power as it rapidly charges. He steadies his stance, gripping the ball tighter as the energy causes a burst of wind to gust about, whipping around his head, making him wince.

It's a finely tuned sort of thing, knowing when and how to throw these orbs. Throw too soon and the buzzing radiance inside will throw the trajectory all off, and it'll never hit the target. Too late, and the power dies down, resulting in a wasted charge.

Luckily, Arven's had plenty of practice. He knows exactly when and how to get this thing going, so Mabosstiff can power up properly.

He throws the orb, and his pokemon is enveloped in a glittering light to match the surrounding cave which then crystalizes into a shell and shatters just moments later, crowning Mabosstiff with phenomenal strength.

The dog roars mightily into the open space, and it almost seems to shock the surrounding brutes. He takes down a barrage of them quickly enough with some fast acting moves, and within minutes, the once-growing horde seems to have thinned out.

As Mabosstiff takes out the final mushroom paradox pokemon, he gives a loud cry of relief, falling to his knees.

They're okay. They did it. Beyond that...they really /are/ stronger. Look at what they've accomplished... They could never have done this just a few months prior. Arven and his buddy really have grown so much.

He opens his arms to welcome his buddy into a hug, into which the pokemon happily bolts, snuggling up to his partner. Arven doesn't even mind the poking adornment atop Mabosstiff's head jamming into his cheek and shoulder.

Now they can just wait for Penny and Nemona to get ba--

THUD...

The ground quakes beneath Arven's shins, rattling up his spine. His fingers clutch tightly into Mabosstiff's fur.

The crystals littering the cave make soft tinkling sounds as they are forced into one another. In any other setting it would sound almost sweet, whimsical.

But paired with the ever growing sound of something like...footfalls? It can only give rise to a swelling lump of dread deep within Arven's gut.

He hazards to pry a hand from Mabosstiff's fur, just so he can pull the hair back from his face, allowing him to better see their surroundings, check for the source of the movement.

Something disappears from the corner of his vision, and Arven whips his head around to see if he can get a better look, but it's gone before he has the chance. The bizarre reflections of the tera crystals in the cave really do not help either... Rather than showing the actual reflection of what is before them, they instead...warp? No, that can't be right. But... It is. A brute bonnet that faces him could look like two if placed in front of a crystal, since the image in the shimmering surface doesn't show the rear of the Pokemon but instead the same face that taunts Arven.

He knows he didn't pay much attention in his science classes, but the physics of this place makes absolutely no sense in his mind, which only heightens the anxiety made by the growing pounding of what sound like footsteps drawing nearer.

Blues then purples shift among the opalescent hues of the crystals, and Arven isn't totally sure where to look anymore. His hearing almost feels dulled by a steady throbbing behind his eyes, as if his heartbeat had grown that strong. Had it?

Mabosstiff vibrates with a growl that turns into a harsh, low bark, his teeth bared in a snarl, as he senses his partner's unease.

The pokemon seems to pick up on something that Arven can't, because his head faces a different direction, and he takes a more defensive stance overall, as Arven scrambles to gather himself. He follows the Pokemon's line of sight, gaze settling on something...massive.

It's a greenish blue, standing upright on two legs as in ambles closer, its vibrant purple mane billowing in an unearthly way around it.

There's no mistaking. This... This thing. This is what attacked them before.

Arven's fingers squeeze against Mabosstiff's fur, and if he had longer fingernails, they'd be dug into the dog's side as he clings to it, almost too stunned to move. His breath hitches. He can’t intake a full breath for himself. Not really. Not when this thing is so close.

Mabosstiff must know how Arven is feeling because he quiets his growling, instead leaning his warm comforting weight against his partner in an attempt to ground him.

Arven clings to that. They’re here. They’re together. They’re stronger. This thing…doesn’t seem to have noticed them.

Until its head tilts, that same flowing mane’s feathery tendrils jerking about as if defying nature itself as it sniffs their location out in less than an instant. Its eyes face them, the pupils dilating and contracting, narrowing in on the pair. The white maw opens, a wet chittering sound is released, echoing in the cave, its claws flexing.

Mabosstiff moves before Arven has a chance to think. It’s clear this thing wants to fight, and Mabosstiff knows what to do. Arven is left on his knees, cold and alone on the slightly damp earth while his dog defends him from this massive, prehistoric menace.

Months of watching Mabosstiff laying there, suffering and paralyzed in pain flash through his mind. He… He can’t do this. He can’t. Not again. Never again.

The monster…this…Walking Wake… It rears its head back, readying an attack of some kind, and

Arven’s body moves before he can think. He’s up and running, skidding as he buckles to his knees in front of Mabosstiff. The tear in his pant legs as skin catches on stone and pebbles goes ignored. He can’t let his best friend get hurt by this thing again.

Then heat. Heat so fierce and burning that it feels cold. It drenches him, knocks him over like a tsunami. It’s hot, so, so hot, but simultaneously freezing cold in how his body responds to it. Arven gasps, or tries to at least, but he can only take in more scorching water from this thing that burns his tongue and his throat as it goes down his lungs.

If he blacks out, he doesn’t know, but the next sensation that comes is stinging retching as that same mercilessly hot water is forced back out of his mouth and nose as he tries to cough it back up. He can’t open his eyes; the steam is too heavy and hot for the sensitive organs, but…he’s on his side…he thinks.

Mabosstiff is there…licking him…licking his knees…his hands…whatever bits of skin were scraped up and exposed or blistered by this thing’s attack.

Arven wants to call for help. Penny, Nemona, his little buddy, someone, anyone… Mom… But his vision goes black for perhaps a second time as he continues gasping and retching to get water out of his system and air back in.

He fades back to muffled voices…panicked and grating, but voices all the same.

A noise catches as it leaves his throat. Something akin to a groan, but…wetter. The inside of Arven’s mouth feels entirely singed, like he’d eaten napalm, but…there’s another sensation there. More liquid. Thick, unpleasant. He can’t taste it though, the burns have taken care of that.

He coughs and can feel the same liquid, viscous and warm dribble down his chin.

“You’re awake!” One of the voices says. Too loud. “Don’t worry your pokemon are fine. We got them all healed up. They were all safe in your pokeballs.”

“We put them back, too.” Another voice. Galarian. “They didn’t seem happy about it, but…”

“Yeah, you don’t look good, amigo.”

“Nemona!”

“What? I wouldn’t want my partners seeing me like this, ya know?”

“Fuck, you don’t need to say it out loud. Have some tact.”

“Nngh…Guys…?” Arven croaks out. The words are bitter and painful. He opens his eyes slowly. The heat had dissipated and while his face still hurts, at least he can still see…even if the world seems a bit blurry for now.

“We’re inside the center research lab thing of your mom’s.” Nemona tells him. From a quick glance around, he can tell his on another dilapidated bed, surrounded by lab equipment. Nemona is standing next to him, while Penny is sitting in the corner, hugging her knees. “We found you and Mabosstiff just outside. Mabosstiff was…”

“Fucking howling.” Penny interrupts grimly.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s a word for it. Seems like you got hit by something.”

“M..onsster…” Arven drawls, trying to make the word come out properly while minimizing the pain in his throat. “Same one…got ‘Bosstiff…before…”

Penny nods, understanding. “Well, Mabosstiff was fine. Like we said, your whole team is good. We healed them up.”

Arven nods, but the motion only goes about halfway before he stops himself, hissing in pain.

“We tried to use our potions on you, too, but… Well, nothing seemed to work. Potions, super potions, full restores, burn heals.” Nemona adds, at least sounding sorry. “We could see if an oran berry might help?”

It won’t. Arven’s been through this before. He knows there’s only one thing that might be of any help here. The thing is, he realizes this with a sinking sense of dread, he can’t actually be put into a stasis inside of pokeball.

They can't heal him.

There’s no time to get herba mystica, even if the titan pokemon were back and wandering around again.

But… Maybe his little buddy has some extra.

Arven groans and sits up. The sensation reminds him of tiny knives scraping across his body, but he bites back the urge to do anything more than whimper as his feet touch ground again.

“Hey, hey, you should rest. Our bestie and the professor aren’t here.” Penny tells him, standing. The look of worry on her face seems so foreign, but Arven ignores it. “Let Nemona and me keep looking.”

“No need,” He croaks. Each step burns, his skin shifting beneath the fabric of his clothes ignites the wounds, the blisters that are already bubbling up there. “I know where to find them.”

He continues shuffling past the bed, ambling at a pace that’s painfully slow in more ways than one. Arven’s knees buckle at one point, and he catches himself on one of the several whiteboards lining the room. It rolls under his weight but is stopped by a nearby desk.

Nemona helps pick him up a bit. “You sure you don’t wanna lay back down? Penny and I can go get them…”

“No!” Arven shouts, too loud, too harsh, too painful. He coughs, and that same warm feeling fills his mouth. He wipes it away on his sleeve, and it pulls away scarlet.

Great.

Arven shuts his eyes and breathes for a moment. “I…gotta see her.” He finally says. He has to keep going. He needs to see his mom after all this. He... He wants to see her...to tell her off. To scream and cry at her...to have her hold him.

When he opens his eyes again, they catch on something in the corner of the whiteboard he’d knocked into…a photo of a little boy and his maschiff, smiling wide, goofy grins at the camera. Of him.

His stomach twists, and he doesn’t know if that’s the internal bleeding or some kind of emotion related to his mother.

Nemona and Penny each see where Arven’s gaze traveled, then they nod at one another. In a moment, they’re at his sides, helping to prop him up as best they can.

“Lead the way, Arven.” Nemona says.

He takes them down the elevator, and the trio descends to a room of what looks like glittering obsidian with how black the lights of the crystals are glowing. There in the center…is his buddy, and then…his mom? But…even with his vision going fuzzy in the corners, he can tell something is off.

The woman there clutching her arm looks like his mom, but she’s twitching in a way that isn’t human… She’s wearing clothes his mother wouldn’t usually…

Arven limps from Nemona and Penny’s grasps.

“Hey! Out with it, you…” He addresses the spasming woman. “Who are you, really?” Arven hopes his voice doesn’t sound as broken as it echoes back in his ears.

“Where are all the baddies?” Nemona asks from behind him, looking around. “Did you beat them all already?”

“Th-thɑnk you...f₀r...everythıng..." She… It? Says, disjointly, the voice coming out in a bizarre, mechanical fashion. "The tıme mɑchinə...hɑs fınal|y… Shə hɑs...fına|ly...bəen st₀ppəd..."

“You’re…really not my mom…are you?” Arven chokes out. He knows the answer.

"Oh... ⎣ook...h₀w bıg you’və gr₀wn..." She says, her head jerking roughly to the side in a way that would be painful in any human. “But…what happənəd?” Her head bounces there in that tilt as she pauses, examining him. “...s₀rry...you wəre ɑlone s-s₀...|ong...Arvə—"

“M-Mom?!” As Arven cries out, the obsidian black crystal of the room changes to a distressing carmine red. Alarms blare loudly through the room, making Arven wince and draw back. His friends catch him.

Security System Failure!

Threat to Paradise Detected!

Arven’s friends huddle together, protecting one another, but he can’t hear their mumblings through the alarm and the ringing in his ears.

Activating Paradise Protection Protocol to Remove Offending Threat

The woman wearing his mother’s face straightens some, though her seizing continues sporadically. "|t...cɑnnot bə—! Wɑs kəəｐing the time maɔhıne runnıng truly all thə profəssor cɑred about?!"

Locking all PokeBalls except those registered to Sada’s ID.

Program Initializing… Gathering Terastal Energy…

"|’ⅿ s₀rry, chıldrən..." Crystals sprung to being at the feet and hands of the woman, crawling up her lab coat, encasing her quickly. "This ıs t₀o much f₀r you..." Her eyes flashed an inky black sclera so different from the soft cerulean ones that Arven longed to know and see as a child. "Y₀u ⅿust ruｎ!"

AI Sada Disabled

Paradise Protection Protocol Initialized

A platform in the flooring lifted the AI, the…robot? High above the group. From there, she dropped a masterball, and before it could touch down, the white light from within released a massive, scarlet, winged king. The same koraidon that had bullied the one Arven knew. It roared to life, standing on its hind legs and towering above its foes.

His little buddy was the first to throw out a pokeball, but it just…fell. With the lock in place, there was no releasing a pokemon that Sada hadn’t caught herself.

That didn’t stop Nemona and Penny from trying, of course, but… They had no course of action against this thing. Arven patted his pockets. Had his mom technically been the one to catch Mabosstiff back when he was a maschiff?

He left his pokeballs upstairs…

Could…could any of them run for the elevator and make it before this thing grabbed them? He certainly couldn’t in his state, but… But maybe they could.

Especially if the Koraidon was distracted.

Koraidon rears back. Arven watches as it turns itself into a sort of spinning wheel, ready to bash into whatever thing it locks onto. This time…his buddy.

Absolutely not.

For the second time, his body moves on its own, and he takes the hit.

Koraidon smashes him into the wall of the facility, and he can feel his ribs cracking from the blunt force of it. Air is rushed from his lungs.

With the attack from earlier, he probably wouldn’t have lasted long anyway if his buddy didn’t have all five herba mystica on them. And what were the odds of that happening? Better to take the hit and give everyone the chance for an out.

New Threat to Paradise Detected!

Removing Offending Threat.

Arven’s vision goes black.

Fuck.

Or…maybe the room goes black. The alarm sounds come to a halt quickly, and beyond the sound of blood rushing in his ears, he can hear whirring of some sort, and a flurry all around him.

He opens his eyes. His friends are all there around him in this reflective black room. They’re talking. He thinks they’re yelling, maybe, but…he can’t hear them. That same rushing sound is too loud. It’s overtaken everything else.

Behind them is the AI of his mother. She looks like she’s half tera-crystal now. She looks sad… Can AI be sad?

He blinks and looks at his friends again. They’re holding him and crying. Why are they crying? Who would cry for him?

He closes his eyes. He feels cold. That’s odd. Earlier…earlier everything hurt. Breathing hurt. His mouth hurt. Now he’s just cold. But… Just cold isn’t bad.

Then Arven feels nothing… Nothing isn’t bad.

Then

Opalescent white surrounds him with a comforting warmth. Warmth isn’t bad. It’s more than ‘isn’t bad,’ actually. It’s…nice.

Arven takes a deep breath. There isn’t any pain in his ribs or his lungs. Just that same light and warmth.

When he opens his eyes properly, his mom is there. His mom as he knew her, that same wild hair, the bit of crow's feet crinkling around her cerulean eyes that match his. She’s crying, but…she’s there, so nearby. Closer than she’s been in his memory.

She’s holding out her hands to him. Arven can hear her calling him her baby. The sound of it is like a bite of freshly baked warm bread, soft and sweet as it goes down your throat.

He takes her hands, and she pulls him in, cuddling him close. He’s pressed to her bosom and held tight there in the warmth of her embrace. She smells just like he remembers, ginger shampoo and earth, maybe a hint of hand sanitizer.

Her voice is there in his ear, soft and kind, just like a mom’s should be. She tells him it's okay. She's here. She's here.

She's sorry.

#arven fanfic #trainer arven #rival arven #arven pokemon #arven #pkmn arven #professor sada

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stuckinapril · 1 year

Note

hi! do you have any advice on how to deal with a friendship that’s slowly fading away? i don’t know what exactly happened that caused it and i can’t confront it because she hasn’t made any effort to nurture our bond and is rather ok with things being this way so i doubt she cares. still, she was one of my closest friends and i don’t really know how to grieve right now

it happens. that’s just the nature of life—things are constantly ebbing and flowing, in a never-ending state of change. one day you’re really close w someone, and then you randomly wake up the next morning and feel a little differently. there’s nothing inherently wrong w that. the sooner you come to terms with the fact that we’re constantly going through phrases, the easier you’ll accept that people’s dispositions towards you inevitably shift. this is not to say that you should be okay w erratic behavior—consistency breeds security—but more so that no one is immune to change. that could have very well happened w your friend. and that’s completely okay.

if someone is drifting out of your life, you’re doing a disservice to yourself by expending energy thinking of ways to lock them down. why would you want to lock someone down, when they don’t want to be in your proximity? bc of the nostalgia factor? that’s the same thing as being in love with potential, even if at some point the person lived up to it. it no longer exists. you want to focus on what the relationship is actually giving you in the present day. from the sounds of it, all it’s adding to your life atm is stress.

do the rational thinking. accept that maybe your friendship is nearing its end, and really, really allow yourself to feel the pain that accompanies that. vomit it into writing. cry about it. never resort to suppressing. remind yourself that no love given is ever love wasted—there’s no such thing as “i wasted my time on this person.” this person still provided sweet memories, and learning experiences, and that’s invaluable whether or not they’re still in your life.

ask yourself what you’re saying about you by holding on so tightly to a person who doesn’t want to be held on to at all. are you saying this is what you deserve? that your time isn’t worthy of people who want to be your friends? our time is literally our most valuable currency. by spending so much as a precious second on this person, you’re blocking other blessings from being in your life. we’re not here forever. for all we know, the life we’re given is the only life we’ll ever have, so honor that by letting go of things that no longer elevate it in any way.

adjust your expectations, mourn the death of the friendship, set the intention, and let it go. letting go does not mean the friendship was never a thing, or doesn’t matter to you—just that you recognize that it has run its course, and that you’re making space for something better for this chapter of your life. and given we’re in the presence of 8 billion people on this planet, something better will no doubt come around eventually.

#good luck friend #i know friendship fallouts hurt like a bitch #ask

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babymetaldoll · 2 years

Text

Baby, I'm yours - Chapter three: "To die by your side"

Summary: The team is doing its best to find Emily. Spencer is struggling with the fear of losing his friend and the thought of not being enough to keep his girlfriend safe.

Word count: 11,5K

Warnings: Lots of angst, Criminal Mind classic and painful canon, smut, mention of drug addiction and drug use.

'A/N: Hey guys!! Thank you for reading! And sorry for the angst! Tumblr didn't show last week's chapter in the tags 😔 I don't know why. Remember feedback is more than welcome if you are enjoying this story: Like, reblog and comment if you can.

Next update: February 1st

Series Masterlist | General Masterlist | Prequel Masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter

(Y/N)’s point of view

I was having an awful flashback. I was again outside Tobias Hankel’s house and Morgan was telling me Spencer was nowhere to be seen. It was the same feeling of fear and panic that didn’t let me think straight all those years ago, and that ended up making me yell at JJ.

The fear of losing someone you love can be the fuel you need to bring them back or a paralyzing energy that restrains each and every one of your thoughts and movements. At that minute, it was the second.

I walked to Penelope’s office to tell her we were ready to take off to Boston and didn’t even knock on the door. She was talking on the phone with someone, and soon I realized she was leaving voicemails in every phone number that had ever belonged to Prentiss.

- “Hey, it's me. Hotch asked me to try all your numbers, and I have this as an old listing, and you probably don't even use it anymore, but if it is you and you're out there, come home, please. God, Emily, what did you think, that we would just let you walk out of our lives? I am so furious at you right now! Then I think about how scared you must be, how you're in some dark place all alone. But you're not alone, ok? You are not alone. We are in that dark place with you. We are waving flashlights and calling your name. So if you can see us, come home. If you can't, then..”- I rested my head on her shoulder as I heard her sobbing- “Then you stay alive. 'Cause, we're coming!”

- “We love you, Emily! We are your family”- I added and broke into tears as well. Garcia hugged me and we cried for a few minutes. I needed to let it all out before I put on my BAU profiler mask and hid every feeling I had.

- “We are gonna bring her home, and we are gonna get so wasted!”- I whispered and chuckled between sobs

- “Oh, we are gonna get so drunk after this!”- Garcia agreed and wiped off her tears- “Let’s save our friend, munchkin.”

We were on a plane to Boston. Emily had been captured by Doyle, Garcia had shown us the footage and for a second, we all thought the worst. Also, the police had detained Clyde Easter in that city and we needed to talk to him as soon as possible. He had to give us some more info about Doyle and his relationship with Prentiss. Anything that could help us find them.

- “Emily walked into a trap. It looks like Doyle got into the SUV, but from this angle, you can see that he didn't. Which I wished Boston PD would have told me before I started watching it. Sorry again for the screaming.”

Penelope showed us again the footage of the incident, and we analyzed it frame by frame.

- “She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car. She's lucky the 3 people inside didn't die. Is anybody else bothered by that?”- Morgan was clearly upset, he had been angry for the last 10 hours, after Prentiss’ disappearance. I had been upset when we discovered she had slept with Doyle, but at that point, I just wanted to bring my friend safe. I didn’t care what she had done.

- “Well, three bad guys.”- Rossi gave him a sarcastic remark and shook his head.

- “Illegal as it is, I think Prentiss knows she has to be as ruthless as Doyle.”- Hotch pointed out and I nodded in support as I sipped my tea.

- “He's come to the US to wage a public vendetta and hired a group of mercenaries to remain loyal to him. He has nothing to lose, so she has to act the same way.”- Reid added with a voice that showed how deeply concerned he was. I wanted to hold his hands the entire time to show him I was there with him, but I knew I couldn’t at the time.

- “So how did Doyle know she was waiting for him?”- Rossi asked and JJ answered.

- “ Well, the mole must have told him, right? The same guy who's been feeding Doyle the contractors and agents?”

- “And our best suspect was just arrested with a suitcase full of cash. How do we get Easter to talk? He won't cooperate willingly.”- Seaver questioned and I knew Hoth was going to handle the asshole himself.

- “I'll handle that. The rest of you focus on Doyle's location.”

- “I hate to be the one to ask this, but how long does Emily have?”- Garcia’s question was in fact the same we all shared, but no one had spoken about it in fear of the truth. Hotch’s voice was soft and kind as he explained the situation in the most positive way possible.

- “Her best chance is also the most troubling. Doyle saved her for last because he views her as his stressor. Which means he'll take his time.”

We all looked down and stayed in silence for most of what was left of the trip.

The Boston police station felt like a prison. I wanted to get out of there and find Emily. I knew walking around with no clue and no idea of what was happening would be useless, but waiting felt like torture. I just hoped Em wasn’t going through torture herself.

- “Get your hands off me! Do you know who I am? I'm the man!”- Hotch and I turned to see the man walking in cuffs to the station.

- “Who's that?”- I asked Rossi, who joined us with more info

- “Jack Fahey, Irish mob. He called Easter's cell phone 12 times in 6 hours.”

- “Any connection to Doyle?”- Hotch looked at Rossi as he waited for an affirmative answer.

- “Boston PD says he's low-level. But the Irish mob has long-standing ties to the IRA”- Rossi explained.

- “You two and Reid, see if you can get anything out of him.”- Hotch said and the three of us nodded before we started walking away.

I had questioned witnesses and suspects many times with Reid before. But never as a couple. I had wondered how that would be, but under those circumstances, I didn’t have much patience to play any kind of game.

- “Why were you calling Clyde Easter so much, Jack?”- Rossi asked right away, as we stood in front of Fahey, but he decided to ignore him.

- “Anybody got a smoke? How about you sweetheart?”- I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms on my chest, not saying a word back to him- “How about you, beanpole?”

- “What do you think?”- I asked my boyfriend as he made eye contact with Fahey and whispered his answer, making sure the suspect could hear us.

- “Narcissism masking deep-seated insecurity.”- Rossi and I nodded at his description.

- “So if we puncture his self-image, this hood rat will talk.”- David added, just to toy with him.

- “Hey, hey, hey, I ain't no hood rat. You take that back.”- Fahey freaked out immediately, as predicted.

- “Well, you look like one. You smell like one. You smell that?”- Rossi walked to Fahey as he spoke, and Spencer and I sniffed and answered at the same time.

- “Hood rat.”

- “I am not! Take it back!”- Fahey looked funny when he was mad, I give him that.

- “Hey, Jack. Do you know what a hood rat is?”- I walked over and stared at the suspect right in the eyes. He couldn't even answer my question, so I looked at Spencer and shook my head- “You see what I mean? He's just gonna have to learn the hard way.”

- “All right, all right, look, Clyde was gonna pay my medical bills, all right? This ear, it ain't growing back.”

- “What happened to it?”- Reid crossed his arms on his chest and looked at him with a severe glance.

- “This bitch teammate of his shot it. Said it was a warning. Thought she could take on this IRA big shit named Doyle. So I told these...!”- but the poor bastard couldn’t keep talking ‘cos Rosi kinda lost it. He squeezed his shot ear, making him cry and twist in pain on his chair. Blood came from the wound through the patch and soaked Rossi’s hand.

- “What the hell, man?! Jeez!”

- “Where's Prentiss?”- I shouted and hit the table, trying to get his attention.

- “Who? I don't know!”

- “Lauren Reynolds. Where is Lauren Reynolds?”- Spencer asked with the same urgency and somehow Fahey chuckled through the pain.

- “Oh. Friend of yours, is she?”- suddenly I realized we had lost our upper hand with him. And all just because of our feelings for Prentiss.

- “You tell us where she is right now, or I swear, I'll send you to a prison where they'll teach you what a hood rat is.”- Rossi threatened him, but it was too late, the bastard just chuckled.

- “And by the time you do, she'll be in pieces. So, uh... my price just went up.”

If he hadn’t been our only lead, I would have killed him right there and no one would have missed him. But we needed whichever piece of information the bastard could give us.

- “200,000?”- Seaver asked underneath, pretty shocked as we all stood at a side of the station. Fahey was sitting a few feet from us, waiting for our resolution.

- “What other leverage do we have?”- Hotch asked.

- “I just wanna beat the shit out of him until he speaks”- I confessed and sighed- “But I know it won’t take us very far, and there is not enough time.”

- “Is he an addict?”- Seaver asked, taking a second look at him.

- “He's having a nicotine fit. We wouldn't let him smoke.”- I explained and even cut her an evil grin.

- “We could use that. He’d relax, open his big mouth.”- Seaver suggested, and surprisingly it wasn’t a bad idea.

- “Is that enough?”- Hotch questioned and she cut him her sweetest smile.

- “Well, I'm pretty good with narcissists.”

- “Please don’t tell me, your dad was a serial killer and you know everything about narcissists”- the words slipped my lips, I couldn’t help it and I knew Hotch was gonna make me pay for it.

- “Well, I also dated a few.”- she answered and I sighed. We were going to go through Seaver’s plan. God help me.

For security reasons, we took Fahey to the rooftop. Hotch thought having two girls would help him feel more relaxed and so it was just me and Seaver with him. Well, if you ignore all the officials waiting for us at the door, including Spencer who insisted on keeping a close eye on what was happening.

- “You know when a cigarette is best? After sex with me.”- that bastard joked as he took a long drag of his cigarette, winking at Ashley.

- “Mind your manners, asshole.”- I commanded and kept my serious look on him. Clearly, I was the bad cop in that situation- “You're already extorting us for Prentiss’ location.”

- “So, just out of curiosity, what's it like working for Doyle?”- Seaver asked with a sweet tone of voice.

- “Eh, he's not so tough.”

- “Wow. I bet you're his hookup, aren't you? I mean, after all, you're the man.”

- “I could show you how much of a man I really am.”- I clenched my knuckles and took a step closer to Fahey, ready to smack those dirty answers out of him. But he raised his arms and took a step back.

- “All right, all right, all right, jeez. What's with the sexy good /sexy bad cop routine? What do you two think…”- a shot came from a window nearby, all of a sudden.

- “Down!”- I quickly wrapped my arms around Seaver and the two of us kneeled down as we heard a second gunshot and our only lead dropped dead right in front of us. Seaver started shaking, Fahey’s blood damping her white sweater. I kept my arms around her for a few more seconds, trying to comfort her as the police force surrounded us, working to find the killer.

- “Are you ok?”- I whispered and she just nodded.

- “(Y/N)!! (Y/N)!!”- Spencer showed up running and cupped my face in his hands- “Are you ok? are you hurt?”- I just shook my head and looked into his teary eyes, feeling like the most loved human on earth.

- “I’m ok, it’s ok honey. They got Fahey, we are ok. Right, Ashley?”- I rubbed my hand on her back and she nodded.

- “Yeah, but now we are back to square one”- she whispered, still shaky.

- “Come on”- Spencer helped us stand up and quickly walked us in.- “It’s not safe out here.”

After Spencer made sure I was safe, his fear of losing me (or any other member of the team under those circumstances) hitting hard for a moment, I grabbed a clean shirt from my go bag and walked to find Seaver. The poor kid was trying to wipe off the blood from her sweater with a napkin. It was sad. I knew without Prentiss, she didn’t have anyone close inside the team but Rossi. And I also knew it wouldn’t kill me to be nice to her for once.

- “That's not going to come out.”- I announced as I walked toward her.

- “Yeah, I know.”- I gave her my shirt and she looked at it in shock for a moment. Yeah, apparently it was that hard to believe that I could be nice and human with her- “Thanks.”

- “It’s ok. Actually, I needed to talk to you”

- “About…”- I don’t know what she wanted to say ‘cos I started talking before she could finish her idea.

- “Ashley, we have a problem. Without Fahey, there's not much left. We all want to save Prentiss so badly that we can't see this case straight.”

- “Ok. What do we do?”

- “Something that terrifies me: we depend on the team member with the freshest eyes.”- Seaver looked at me in shock and shook her head, honestly scared to carry such a burden on herself.

- “Oh, no. Not me, no.”

- “Believe me, this hurts me too. But the truth is you haven't worked with Prentiss for five years. You're unprejudiced.”- I sat next to her and maintained eye contact the entire time. I didn’t mean to make her nervous, I just needed her to focus.

- “Now, what's been bugging you since we left Quantico? How about the affair? That bugs me, you saw me, I yelled when I found out what had happened. Now tell me, how does the two of them sleeping together change Doyle's profile?”

- “I don't know.”- she mumbled, frustrated

- “Come on, Ashley. It's textbook!!”- I raised my voice ‘cos though I was trying to be nice at her, I was also aware we were running out of time to find Prentiss safe.

- “I haven't read every textbook! You always complain about that!!”- Ashley yelled back at me, so I moved closer to her and ket pushing her.

- “You want me to hold your hand? Fine! See? I'm holding your hand and giving you all my moral support. Now tell me, honestly: What doesn't fit? Just say it! What are you thinking? Spit it out!”

- “Why families?!”- she finally shouted and I nodded, excited pushing her had actually worked.

- “Keep going.”

- “Prentiss is Doyle's stressor. He wants revenge on the woman who betrayed him, and I understand that. But why kill that child in D. C.?”

- “Finally! You just gave me a reason to love the fact you are on the team.”- I hugged her and she widened her eyes- “Now throw away that awful sweater, put on the clean shirt and never wear white to work again, got it?”

Spencer’s point of view

There were too many stressors. Way too many for me to handle properly under that amount of stress. First, Prentiss runs away from us, hiding information from the team. Then, knowing how far she had gone with Doyle, faking a relationship with him and even sleeping with him. I’m not a prude, but even I know that can mess things up in the field. Now how did that change Doyle’s profile and how was he going to act with Emily? We had nothing.

And the fact a sniper had shot Fahey on the police station’s roof and might have killed (Y/N) instead was eating me alive. Of course, I always knew there was a risk in doing what we do for a living. And yes (Y/N) had been shot before (by far, the worst day of my life). But that day, on that rooftop, it affected me on a completely different level. I wanted to protect her no matter what, and I hated feeling I couldn’t do it properly.

I don’t think it had actually hit me until that day, but I wanted to marry her. I wanted to have babies with her. And soon. We had waited so long to confess our feelings I didn’t want to wait another five years to commit. I knew we had been dating for less than a month, but I knew she was my forever. I knew it since the first time I saw her.

But at that minute our job was to bring Prentiss home. Then I could take care of the rest.

Hotch got Prentiss' ex’s unit chief, Clyde Eater, to collaborate with us and the entire team got together to finally make some progress.

- “Ian Doyle's a power-assertive psychopath, highly controlling and very explosive when something doesn't go as planned.”- Clyde explained. We knew he was a psychopath and a serial killer. But his M.O and all the intel the CIA had on him were extremely useful to profile the bastard. And most important: to know what he was doing with Prentiss.

- “Ok, so how does this fit in with who he is as a family annihilator?”- Seaver asked and (Y/N) added

- “And Prentiss’ role in it.”

- “Annihilators have a romanticized view of who their family is.”- I looked at Clyde, but he shook his head at my words.

- “Well, actually, he was an orphan.”

- “Well, they think of family as their possession, until some law shatters that and starts them killing”- Morgan added.

- “But Doyle was never married.”- Clyde kept dismissing all of our contributions to the profile.

- “Children?”- Rossi asked, but we all guessed it was negative.

- “No.”

- “You run your profile that he carried out his murder with surgical-like precision.”- I continued talking as (Y/N) grabbed the picture of the kid Doyle shot from my hands, trying to find anything on that image that we could use as a clue.

- “Yes.”

- “With no collateral damage.”- Morgan added.

- “That's right.”

- “Perhaps this child was a surrogate for one he had.”- (Y/N) suggested

- “Say Doyle had a child and you didn't know about it. Is it possible that Prentiss did?”- Rossi asked the million-dollar question, and Clayde shook his head.

- “Then why would she keep it from me?”

- “Who else was in the compound the day that you arrested Doyle?”- Hotch asked and looked at the list of names.

- “Just his staff.”

- “All Irish?”- Hotch raised an eyebrow going through the names again, and Clayde nodded.

- “Yeah.”

- “That's a start.”

Thirty two minutes later we had an address and we got ready to rescue our friend. We knew Prentiss discovered Ian Doyle had in fact a son hidden, who had been raised by one of his maids as her own, to keep him from any danger. When the CIA got Doyle, the maid and the boy made it to America, and a year after Doyle’s imprisonment, Prentiss faked their deaths and relocated them, saving their lives from him. We didn’t know how or where. We just knew she made sure she did everything she could to save that kid’s life. Because that is how amazing Prentiss is.

We were on a rescue mission for Emily. The entire team, plus the special forces, got to an empty warehouse. We all walked in, and the first thing I did was to keep (Y/N) close. I couldn't focus on anything if I didn’t know she was close enough for me to save her. Morgan’s words kept spinning in my head: Our only advantage in that mission was stealth. Once Doyle knew we were on site, nothing would stop him from killing Prentiss. Or anyone on his way.

Derek was leading the mission, and after a few minutes of the most nerve-wracking silence, he announced he had Emily.

- “I got her!!”- his voice nearly pierced my ear as he shot into the earpiece- “I got her in the basement on

Southside! I need a medic!”

I stopped in my tracks and grabbed (Y/N)’s arm, who had just started running towards Morgan.

- “We don’t know where Doyle is! Stop! (Y/N)!”- I looked into her teary eyes and felt her struggling to let go.

- “But she is right there, Spencer! She needs us!!”- she begged as we heard Derek’s voice in our earpiece again.

- “Prentiss. Hey, it's me, I'm right here. You're gonna be alright. Stay with me, baby. Come on, stay with me.”- the officials cleared the room as we all continued to move, being extra careful in case Doyle was still in the area. I surely doubted it. He just wanted to hurt Emily and he couldn’t do it with all of us there and all his men down.

- “Clear!”- we heard that word, and (Y/N) ran from my side until she got to Prentiss and Derek the minute the ambulance reached the perimeter. I caught her and held her as we watched the paramedics checking her vitals and quickly moving her into the ambulance and to the nearest hospital.

Honestly, it all happened too quickly and I almost didn’t register it all. The way Prentiss looked when we reached her side, pale, almost dead. How Morgan kept holding her hand and refused to move from her side, getting into the ambulance with her, even against the paramedic’s will. The way (Y/N)’s tears soaked my shirt when I wrapped my arms around her, and how her hands grabbed my arms and nearly hung from me, not letting go until Hotch said we had to go to the hospital.

Everything will be engraved in my memory forever. And I wish I could just forget it all. It was all too much. And it just kept getting worse.

We waited over five hours in that visitor lounge, in the hospital. (Y/N) sat next to me, shaking most of the time, though I gave her my jacket, and wrapped my arm around her to keep her warm, and Rossi kept getting us coffee and snacks from the closest vending machine.

- “She is gonna be ok, right?”- Penelope whispered and waited for our answer. Derek just wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple. (Y/N) looked at me for a moment, with pleading eyes. She wanted to hear it too, she needed to hear Prentiss was gonna be ok. I cut her a short smile, though my eyes were filled with tears, and snuggled closer to her.

- “Of course, she is gonna be ok”- I whispered to her and she just nodded, resting her head on my shoulder.

I think that’s the first time I knew I was lying to my girlfriend. But I was too scared to tell her I didn’t know. That I just wasn’t sure what was gonna happen. I wanted to be her rock, the man she needed. But I was so scared. Petrified at the thought of losing my friend. Of failing to the team.

We all raised our eyes when we heard footsteps coming over, and JJ walked slowly over us. Her eyes were red and she couldn’t even speak. We all turned to her and waited if she had any update on Prentiss’ condition. But her tears stopped our hearts. (Y/N) held my hand and squeezed it tight. I just opened my mouth, not knowing what to say. It couldn’t be right. There was no way that was actually happening.

- “She never made it off the table”- JJ confirmed and for a moment, time stopped. I refuse to believe what she had said was true. My friend couldn’t be dead. My last conversation with her couldn’t be that random exchange of words. Emily Prentiss couldn’t be dead.

I looked around and watched how all of our friends were breaking apart. Rossi was sobbing, Garcia was in shock. I stood up and tried to run away, though I didn’t really know where I was planning to go. But (Y/N) grabbed my hand and stopped me. I turned to look at her and saw the tears falling down her cheeks as she bit her lips, trying her best to contain her emotions. I knew she hated crying in public, and I also knew she couldn’t really control it at the moment.

- “Hon…”- she whispered and grabbed both my arms, maybe scared I would actually run away from her. But instead of fighting her touch, I melted into it, wrapping my arms around her body and sobbing against the soft skin of her neck.

- “I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye”- I mumbled and felt her arms trying to hold me together. I let my tears run as she hugged me and caressed my back. She was crying too, as well as everybody around us. That couldn’t be happening. Emily couldn’t be dead. That couldn't just be it. We were the good guys, and the good guys always win. We couldn’t lose her, we couldn’t lose Emily.

But we did.

(Y/N) and I held each other the entire flight back home. I don’t really know if we were trying to console one another, or just trying to stay together to keep each other sane. I didn’t follow any of the PDA rules Hotch and Strauss had been nagging us about. I held (Y/N) in my arms the entire trip. I sat her on my lap and wrapped a blanket around her, ‘cos she kept shaking.

No one said a word the entire trip. The only sound around us were grieves and sobs. There was a deep feeling of loss. Not only we had lost Emily, but we all felt lost. It seemed unreal.

(Y/N)’s hands were clinging to my sweater, and every time I moved on the seat, she tightened her grip on me. I kissed her forehead as I snuggled her closer.

- “I’m not going anywhere”- I whispered and slowly leaned it to kiss her hands. She sighed and looked into my eyes with tears.

- “I’m so scared, Spencer.”- she called me by my name as one of her hands let go of my sweater and moved to my cheeks, caressing me- “I don’t wanna lose you too.”

- “You won’t, I swear. I am not going to leave you, and nothing bad will happen to me.”

But the truth is, I was petrified too. And I held her even tighter until we got home, ‘cos I was also scared to lose her. We did everything we could to keep Prentiss safe, but we failed. The same way we failed to protect Elle, and Garcia. We failed to protect Hailey and Jack. We were a failure, the entire BAU. And it scared me to death to think something bad could ever happen to my girl.

We got home that night and just sat on her couch. We talked about having a cup of tea, but neither of us moved. We just sat there, crying and holding each other until the sun came out.

I smelled her shampoo all over me as (Y/N) let her hair loose and for once, it didn’t make me feel better, protected or loved. If anything, it made me more anxious. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel losing her. And the fear kept crawling down my skin like a disease that spread all over my body.

And there was only one thing I knew had helped me get rid of that fear and pain: Dilaudid.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I stood outside the car and took a deep breath. We were at the cemetery, ready to give Emily her final resting place. It wasn’t right. The last few days had been the closest I had ever been to hell. We had to present our reports on what had happened the day Emily died. Then Hotch gave us the day off to rest and process what had happened. And now we were at a cemetery. No, it made no sense.

I had cried my eyes out in the last 48 hours. Life had changed completely and I felt lost. I refused to admit the fact my friend was gone. That had to be a joke, a very bad one. But I knew we couldn't function as a team without Emily. She was our rock. She was the one who always managed to keep her cool, even during the worst times. She was the one I turned to for advice since she joined the team, ‘cos we both had a rough start with Gideon, and Hotch wasn’t a big fan of women’s work when we first started.

- “Ready?”- Spencer held my hand and took me from my thoughts. I shook my hand and bit my lips, making my best not to cry anymore. I’ve always hated crying in public. He kissed my hand, and his lips lingered on my skin for a second before we started walking to meet the rest of the team.

Penelope was already there, with Morgan. I rested my head on her shoulder not saying a word, as I felt her caressing my hair. We just stood there in silence until Hotch and Rossi walked over. Aaron hugged us all, as I kept fighting the tears back.

- “It’s time.”- that was all he said, and we just nodded.

Spencer kissed my cheek one more time before walking with Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch to hold Prentiss’s coffin and carry it to her grave. Penelope held my hand as we walked behind them, along with JJ and Seaver, carrying some of Prentiss’ favorite flowers. Everybody was there, but I didn’t register much. A priest talked about loss and how we shall overcome it. But it was all a blur. I just remember standing in front of the coffin, fighting the tears, holding Spencer’s hand tight.

JJ walked and left her flowers on the coffin, and Penelope followed slowly. Then Seaver, Rossi, and Morgan. Spencer looked at me and I did my best to walk. But I swear, I felt my knees were going to betray me any minute. My boyfriend held my arm tight and helped me make my way to say my last goodbye. I still don’t know how he had the strength to do it if I knew he was hurting too. But at that minute I knew I was more thankful to have him than ever. I never wanted to lose him.

- “Come on kid, let’s go to my house for a drink”- Rossi whispered after the ceremony was over.

- “No, thank you. I wanna be alone”- I whispered, knowing he wasn’t going to let me go, but still trying to see if he could get I didn’t want to deal with people.

- “Kid, this hit the entire family and it’s time for the family to be together. Come. Both of you can not lock yourself to grieve all alone.”- Rossi was right, I just didn’t know how to deal with everything that was happening with all those people around me.

- “Do you wanna go?”- I asked Spencer, who kept holding my hand, his eyes glued to the ground.

- “It’s gonna be good for all of us”- Rossi added and Reid nodded. I sighed and gave up. I knew it was gonna be worse not attending, and maybe Dave was right and some time with family would be good for all of us.

Of course, spending time with family, under those circumstances, was painfully hard, because though all we wanted was to support each other, all our emotions were on the surface, and I don’t think we knew what to do with them.

We drove in convoy to Rossi’s and when we got there we realized he had prepared a little get-together. He had some food, some wine and a table in his backyard ready for us. Spencer poured a glass of wine for me, grabbed a juice for himself, and stood by my side as the rest of the team gathered around for a toast. I didn’t feel like toasting for Emily. Not that I didn’t want to honor her, but I wanted to do it on my own. I didn’t feel ready to share my feelings with my friends just yet.

- “To Emily”- Rossi raised his glass and his voice broke immediately- “A tuff rock, the smartest woman and one of the best friends we’ve had.”- we all raised our glasses and drank a sip.

- “Emily is my… was my best friend”- Garcia started, but tears stopped her speech. Morgan wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead, in support. We weren’t ready for this. The wound was open and bleeding. This was basically just twisting the knife inside the wound.

- “I remember when she first joined the team ‘cos Stauss pushed me to accept her. Erin thought she could use Em to control me and get some info about our work. And instead, she gave us an invaluable team member, and a friend that will live in our hearts forever.”- Hotch’s words started with a light chuckle and ended with tears. I knew he wanted us to remember the good things, but we couldn’t just forget that she was dead, and we would never see her again.

- “I just can’t believe she is gone”- Spencer whispered and I wrapped an arm around him immediately- “I mean, if we can’t protect each other, what can we do? how can we do our work?”

No one could give an answer to that. I know I didn’t have comfort words for Spencer ‘cos I felt broken inside as well. I hugged him tight and felt how he soaked my neck with tears, as he made an effort to cry quietly.

- “I just wish she would have trusted us from the beginning.”- Derek took a sip of his wine and stared at us, fighting the tears- “I mean, we could have helped her! we could have caught Doyle and killed that son of a bitch!”

- “Derek”- Hotch tried to calm him down, but we all had to express our feelings somehow, I guess.

- “Why did she do this alone?! I told her we were there for her! I knew she was hiding something from us! And now she is gone!”

Morgan was angry, and I got it. I had noticed Emily was acting strange but didn’t do anything either. I was too busy being happy with Reid. And in a way, I blamed myself as well.

- “Emily locked us out of her life. She decided she was better on her own.”- JJ argued and Will held her hand, ‘cos it felt as if her words came out harder than she had initially intended.

- “We are all fucking profilers! We all knew there was something going on and we just decided to overlook it!”- I argued and let Spencer go ‘cos I needed a refill of my wine already.

- “Kid, we all feel guilty. Trust me, I hate myself right now and I know there are a lot of things that we could have done to help her. But we didn’t, and it’s done. Regret won’t take us anywhere but feeling even more miserable!”- Rossi raised his voice but didn’t try to lecture me. He followed me to the bar and wrapped an arm around me, pouring me a second glass of wine.

- “But we have each other, ragazza. And we are gonna overcome this together. Trust me.”

My BAU family is so different from my real one. I could get away from my blood relatives, I had a million excuses I had certified were adequate to stay away from them. But I could never get away from my BAU’s kin. They were harder to keep away.

Spencer excused himself and walked to the bathroom for a moment. I looked at him and realized he had been trying to be strong for me, and be my rock. But of course, I knew he needed to process the whole situation his own way. I knew he wasn’t afraid to cry in front of me or anything like it. But he would never want to feel like he was a burden for me. And he would want to process his sorrow alone.

I just hoped this whole thing wouldn’t affect our new relationship. All I actually wanted was to curl into bed with him, hug him and get some rest. It felt like the weight of the world was on our shoulders and there was no escape from it.

- “I didn’t get to know Emily very well”- Seaver started talking and for once, I didn’t really care. I was so sad I didn’t even want to argue with her- “But she was the first to open her arms and give me a chance. Teach me some of the things she knew and just… help me be a better profiler.”

- “My baby was like that”- Garcia whispered, trying her best to stop sobbing- “She would always go an extra mile for someone she knew deserved it.”

- “She also had the better comebacks. I learned so many curse words from her”- I sipped my wine after my words and heard Rossi chuckle.

- “You can’t say she was a bad influence. You two together were an accident waiting to happen.”

- “Remember when she picked up that guy at the bar?”- Garcia looked at me and JJ, and we both knew exactly what she was talking about.

- “What guy?”- Spencer walked over and stood by my side. I turned to him and cut him a shy smile, holding his hands. His fingers were cold and I felt like kissing them, but it felt weird doing that in front of the team.

- “A random asshole that flirted with her at a bar one time when she first joined the team. We had one of our first ladies' nights and she walked to our table with a guy that told her was an FBI agent”- I explained and Garcia shook her head.

- “No, but he was a loser, he was so pathetic. He kept saying everything we asked was “classified.”

- “Worst was when she said “affirmative” instead of yes!”- JJ added and I chuckled.

- “Oh my god! I had totally forgotten about that!”

- “The best part was when she asked him to see his batch and he argued he couldn’t show it ‘cos it was classified”- Garcia smiled at the memory and Rossi looked at us with wide-opened eyes.

- “And what did you guys do?”

- “We asked him if it looked anything like ours, and he turned around and left completely humiliated”- I finished the story with a big grin on my face, thinking that was the kind of thing that happened when Emily was in charge of getting the next round of drinks.

- “I remember when I hit her with my rocket on the head”- Spencer said and smiled as he remembered what happened that day- “And she didn’t even get mad at me, she just asked me to show her how I had done it”

- “And you didn’t, ‘cos a magician never reveals his secrets.”- I turned to my boyfriend and smiled. I remembered that day so well. He looked so cute and concentrated on preparing his tricks.

- “Remember when we asked her to flirt with that lousy guy to get a better profile?”- Morgan added with an evil grin.

- “¡Viper!”- I nearly jumped when I said his name- “The level of bullying I gave her for doing that…”

- “You flirted with him too!”- Morgan argued, and Spencer frowned, totally confused.

- “I did not, I was just mean to him as Emily worked her magic on the poor bastard. You on the other hand”- I turned and looked at Reid, who opened his eyes innocently, giving me his baby look.

- “What did I do, chipmunk?”

- “Morgan taught you how to flirt and you got that waitress’ phone number.”- Morgan laughed at the memory, and Spencer looked at me with his Bambi's eyes not knowing what to say- “And she sent you that stupid card you gave her”

- “Em said your anger was epic that night, so epic indeed, that you drank half a bottle of tequila and rambled for two hours about how much you hated Spencer flirting with other girls and how he never flirted with you.”

I opened my mouth to argue Garcia’s words, but I couldn’t. Instead I smiled, and a lot, ‘cos it was a beautiful memory with my friend. A friend I knew I was never going to see again.

Spencer’s point of view

That night I had to drive (Y/N) back to her place ‘cos she had way too much wine. It wasn’t a crappy evening after all, all things considered. We had a nice time remembering all the fun things we did with Emily, all the jokes, all the laughs. All the nights out. I know I have an eidetic memory, but there was no way on earth I could ever forget a second of all the moments I shared with Prentiss.

I put (Y/N) to bed and then sat on the couch, staring at the wall. I thought about reading for a while, hoping to get sleepy soon, but honestly, I couldn’t focus.

I wrapped my arms around my body and laid on the couch. I felt empty and useless. Sadness was just part of it all. Fear was consuming me. The agony of losing someone and the angst of the imminent loss of the person I loved the most.

The team had been blind to all the signs Emily needed help. I never saw or even thought any of this could ever happen. What could I do if anything like this ever happened to (Y/N)? I was powerless. I needed to find a way to keep her safe and happy. ‘Cos that’s what she deserved. Happiness, nothing less than that.

There was a hole in the middle of my chest and that void was eating all my thoughts, all my knowledge. All my sanity. I grabbed one of (Y/N)’s pillows and covered my face with it as I started crying. I didn’t want to make a noise, she had to rest and get some sleep. Besides, I didn’t want to look weak in front of her. I wanted to be a rock for my woman, a shoulder for her to cry on. I wanted to help her and be there for her. If she saw me crying, she would get worried, and she had enough on her plate. Our friend died, it wasn’t wise to add a weak boyfriend to that mix.

The next day was a blur. Hotch gave us a week off to gather our thoughts and process what had happened. (Y/N) said there weren’t enough days to deal with what had happened, and I completely agreed. The first day we spent it in our pajamas, basically doing nothing but hunting her apartment like a couple of ghosts. I did my best to stay strong and hold (Y/N) every time she broke into tears. But after two days, I needed something to help me cope with my feelings. Or more likely, to avoid them.

Yes, having my girlfriend there for me was incredible. For the first time ever, I didn’t feel alone under such bitter circumstances. She made me feel safe and secure when she held me close at night. But I didn’t want her to think I was a burden in any way. I just wanted to make her happy. Besides, my head was driving me mad. I needed something that could make me stop thinking and feeling for a moment. Just once. One time was all I needed.

- “Do you have to go?”- (Y/N) whispered and hugged me as I stood by her bed, folding my clothes and putting them into my go bag. I really didn’t want to be apart from her, but I needed to cave in. I was trying to be strong, but one last Dilaudil shot could help under those circumstances, right? I couldn’t shake that thought off my head.

- “I will come back tomorrow, chipmunk. I just need to go to my house, grab some clean clothes, a few books, and pay the bills.”- I felt like crap knowing I was lying to her. I was really just going to get Dilaudid and get high.

- “I’m gonna miss you, Batsy”- (Y/N) mumbled against my sweater, as she kept her arms around me, and her face hidden against my back.

- “I’m gonna miss you too. But hey, we have to go to see my mom in a few days, so maybe we can use these hours apart to prepare our bags?”- I turned around and caressed her arms, trying to be positive and cheerful for once.

- “Ok…”- her reply was short and muffled against my chest.

- “If you don’t wanna go to visit my mom…”- but before I could tell her it was ok to postpone the trip, she looked at me and shook her head frantically.

- “No hon, I wanna visit your mom. We have rescheduled this visit for too long, and I wanna see her. I know she is gonna be happy to be with you, and I am also sure you need to hug her right now.”- I smiled and sighed, resting my nose on her head and letting her smell invade every inch of my body. God, I didn’t want to leave that night, ‘cos I knew I was giving up. But I needed to do something to avoid the pain.

- “I don’t deserve you”- I whispered and she shook her head slowly.

- “Never say that again, honey bunny. I love you because you are the best man on earth. I am proud of everything you do. I am lucky you are mine and I’ll always do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Those words froze me. There I was, packing to go back to my apartment, call my dealer and get high after years of being sober. I was ready to ditch happiness over weakness without actually giving a fight.

Wanna know the worst part? None of that stopped me. I hugged her one last time and walked to the door, promising I would be back the following day. I kissed her and felt her lips lingering on mine for a little longer. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her fingers playing with my hair. I sighed and smiled, pecking her lips one more time as I stared into her eyes in adoration.

- “I love you”- I whispered and she smiled sweetly.

- “I love you too, batsy”- she replied and kissed me one more time- “Now go before I regret it and force you to stay with me on that bed.”- I chuckled, but my heart was just breaking, and it continued breaking as I moved apart from her and walked out of her door.

I actually walked out of her apartment (I still can’t believe I did it), and after a few blocks, I stood in front of a payphone, grabbed a few cents and dialed a number I knew by memory, even though I hadn’t called in years. The same old voice answered and after I presented myself with the same old alias I used back in the days, he chuckled.

- “I knew you’d come back”- the statement felt like a slap of reality. I should have stopped right there, hung up the phone, and gone back to (Y/N)’s. But I did none of that. Instead, I ignored the comment, asked for a dose and my former dealer told me where to go. As simple as that. That’s how I ruined everything I had worked for so hard in my life.

Later that night, I sat on a couch, staring at the Dialaudid bottle on my coffee table. I stared at it, feeling it was actually staring back at me, judging me. I deserved it though, being judged. I was being weak and a liar. And if my girlfriend ever caught me doing drugs again, she would never forgive me, that was a statement.

The phone ringing nearly made me jump off my chair. I grabbed the Dilaudid and hid it in a jacket hanging on a chair before picking up the phone, which made me feel stupid. Whoever was calling would never see it. But I was paranoid and I didn’t want to get caught.

- “Hello?”

- “Hey doc, how are you, it’s Frank.”

- “Hey Paco, nice to hear you.”

- “Likewise. I just wanted to call to tell you I am very sorry for your loss, and that I am here whenever you wanna talk.”- I froze and for a moment, I couldn’t even answer. Not that I was surprised that Frank would give me his support during a hard moment like that, but because I was still surprised I actually had friends. And good friends.

- “Doc? Are you there?”

- “Yeah, sorry. I’m just…”

- “Don’t worry, I totally get it. I was talking with (Y/N) earlier and she gave me the whole story. It’s pretty fucked up”

- “It is”

- “Do you wanna grab a beer? Nugget said you had been spending time with her, but maybe a night with a friend could do you better than being alone.”

- “I... don’t wanna be… a burden”- I simply confessed and closed my eyes.

- “Don’t be stupid. I’ll be there in ten.”

After I left the phone on the table, I stayed still, sitting on the couch, knowing there was a bottle of Dilaudid in my jacket. I couldn’t use it anymore, not if Frank was coming over. Maybe that was a good thing, I didn’t have to fail that night. I could fail the following day, or maybe late that night after Frank left.

Maybe I could tell (Y/N) I’m gonna get to her apartment after lunch, and use it in the morning. No, that was too risky, she might have noticed. I needed a whole night to recover.

My eyes were glued to my jacket. I had Dilaudid. What the hell was I thinking??! I couldn’t do that! not to me, not to (Y/N). After everything we went through those days she locked me in her apartment to get me sober, after all the times I thought about using, but my will was strong enough not to give up. Why was I quitting then?

The knock on my door took me from my thoughts. I jumped from the couch and took a deep breath before answering. Frank stood in the hall with a sick pack and a pizza.

- “I was in the neighborhood.”- he grinned and walked in.- “I didn’t know if you had dinner so I came prepared. Pizza, chips, and beer. It’s dude’s night.”

I smiled and nodded. Hanging out with Frank wasn’t that bad. It was way better than falling into Dilaudid again. I wondered if (Y/N) asked him to call me. Maybe she suspected something when I left earlier. I shouldn’t have left in the first place.

- “So, before you start over analyzing it, (Y/N) didn’t ask me to come or to check on you. I just thought you might need a little company. Someone who is not your girlfriend or any coworker.”- Frank opened a beer and grabbed a slice of pizza, sitting on the couch, on the same exact spot he always sat on when he visited.

- “Thank you, that means a lot.”

- “Don’t sweat it, doc. So… (Y/N) told me you already told her dad about your relationship. How was that?”- I chuckle and grab a beer for myself.

- “Terrifying”- I confess and think of Chief (Y/L/N)’ face when we told her we were together- “For a moment I was sure he was going to kill me. But everything ended up well”

- “He would have killed you if you never confessed your feelings for his daughter. That man really loves you. He has been telling my dad how great you are ever since he met you!”

That made me feel worse. Using Dilaudid again would never look good in front of (Y/N)’s parents, and I wanted to marry her. What the fuck was I thinking calling my dealer again?

- “So, when are you gonna ask her?”- I widened my eyes, shocked. Was Frank actually a mind reader? That would explain a lot. I just stared at him, still sipping my beer and he smiled- “Ok, I was kidding before but now clearly you were thinking about it.”

- “What are you talking about?”

- “I’ve always teased (Y/N) telling her you two are gonna get married, ever since the first time we met you. Now that you are dating, it’s just a matter of time”

- “We haven’t been together for a month yet!”

- “So? you love her, she loves you. What else do you need to know? You’ve known her for years! and you’ve loved her every day of those years. I support you if you wanna do it, and I could be your best man if you need me. I’m guessing Lu is gonna be her bride’s maid.

- “I don’t even have a ring yet”

- “As your best man, I could go with you to Tiffany’s and help you pick one”- I opened my mouth to answer, but no word came out for a few seconds until Frank burst out laughing and chewed his pizza.

- “I’m just kidding doc, I don’t mean to push you. It would be awesome if you two get married and have a lot of kids so I can spoil them and teach them all the bad words, though.”

Surprisingly, Frank had our life planned. I could only think about how disappointed he would be if only he knew I was planning to throw that future off the window when he called. Instead of saying anything else, I kept eating in silence and focused on not making a mess with the cheese in my pizza.

- “Mikey says hi by the way. I saw him earlier, I would have told him to come but he had a date.”

- “A date? wow, that’s new”

- “Yeah, the kid doesn’t date much, but when he does, it’s usually epic. Last time he dated a girl, they got matching tattoos.”- Frank started chuckling and nearly chook with his beer.

- “I remember, I was there when he showed us”- I raised an eyebrow as I reminded him I was actually part of that story. I was the one who told Mikey about all the infections he might get getting a tattoo in a random place, and also reminded him of the statistic of couples breaking up after getting one.

- “Right! sorry, I don’t have an eidetic memory”

- “And you were probably stoned”- I added and Frank grinned.

- “I don’t talk about drugs with the feds, doc.”

- “I don’t see any fed in the room. I’m home, Frank, not at work.”- and I also had drugs in the apartment. Shit, every second made me regret more my stupid decision of getting Dilaudid.

- “I know, I know, but I like teasing you two.��

- “Did you already have this talk with (Y/N)? the whole marriage thing?”- Frank nodded, chewing his pizza- “And did she freak out?”

- “Not really, so I would take that as a good sign.”

We ended up playing poker and drinking beer. Frank told me about a girl he had just met, and who seemed to be nice and fun to date. He also told me about how tired he was of his work, but he couldn’t quit or find anything new until the end of the year. He said he was planning to start a master's in psychology the following year, so he needed to save some money. I told him about our trip to visit my mother, and how excited I was to tell her (Y/N) and I were finally dating. We also talked about music, the piano lessons (Y/N) was giving me, gambling, and the first time I got kicked out of a casino.

We talked about anything and everything, except Prentiss. And it felt good, for once. It was an escape from reality, from feeling miserable and crying. It made me feel guilty for a moment, ‘cos I was having a lot of fun, but I figured if it included cards and booze, Prentiss would approve.

- “I was shocked when nugget told me you came home tonight. I had the feeling you two were way too entertained physically to bear a night apart”

- “I am not telling you about our sex life”- I raised both eyebrows as I continued dealing the cards.

- “Trust me, I don’t wanna know. I love my friend and I respect her intimacy.”- Frank made a pause and looked at me, trying his best not to burst out laughing.

- “I don’t need to use any profiler’s skill to know you are lying!”- and so he started laughing.

- “Sorry, sorry. Just… one question”

- “No, Frank!”- I frowned, but chuckled, ‘cos the fact he wanted to ask about our sex life was weird and I didn’t get why he was trying to do it.

- “I just need to know something!”

- “No!”

After we switched to whisky, talked more about music, specifically Johnny Cash, and ended up singing along with a vinyl I was playing, Frank came back with the sex questions.

- “Come on man! I am not a perv or anything, I just…”

- “No!”- I nearly shouted, chuckling.

- “But I need to know how the fuck can you be here with me getting drunk if you waited forever for her and didn’t fuck with anyone else that I know in like five years… did you?”

- “No”- if I hadn’t been half drunk, I wouldn’t have answered, I know that.

- “Ok, so if you didn’t fuck with anyone for five years, not even freaking Lila Archer! why aren’t you catching up with all the years of missing sex?! And how do you even manage to get out of bed to work every morning? I mean, you two have so much fucking pending!”

I just laughed for a moment, until Frank’s words made total sense. There I was, originally alone to get high, and then with Frank getting drunk, when I could be with the woman I loved, making love to her. What the fuck was I doing?

- “Now you wanna go and have sex with her, don’t you?”- Frank asked and finished his glass. I just looked at him, knowing I was blushing and finished my drink as well.

- “Oh shit you do. Fine, let’s share a cab.”- Frank stood up and grabbed what was left in the bag of chips.

- “Wait!”- I ran to my room, grabbed my bag, and filled it with clean clothes in less than two minutes- “Ok, now I’m ready”

- “Got enough condoms?”

- “She is on the pill”- again, things I would have never said if I hadn’t been half drunk.

- “Nice! Let’s go.”

And somehow, after a pizza, poker, whisky, and rambling, Frank accidentally stopped me from using Dilaudid and sent me back to (Y/N)’s arms. I still wonder if that was his plan all along.

I opened the door quietly. It was nearly two in the morning when I got to her place. The lights were out, so I took off my shoes and quietly made it to her room. There she was, laying on the bed, softly snoring. A book still on her lap let me know what she was doing before falling asleep. I left my bag on the floor, took off my pants and shirt, and got into bed with her. I carefully grabbed the book from her hands and put it on the night table, turned off the lights, and wrapped her in my arms.

- “I am so sorry, love. I promise I will never be that man again. I don’t wanna disappoint you.”- I mumbled and felt her breathing against my skin, as she fluttered her eyes and smiled.

- “What are you doing here, honey?”

- “I realized sleeping without you was a mistake. I don’t ever wanna be apart from you. Never.”- she smiled and snuggled closer.

- “You are welcome to stay forever, honey bunny.”- (Y/N) whispered, wrapping her arms around me - “Were you drinking?”

- “Frank brought beer… and I had whisky”- I kissed her neck and my hands roamed her body as I heard her chuckle. I hadn’t heard her laugh in days, that sound really made me feel happy.

- “I see, well, sleep that booze off and tomorrow you’ll have a nice breakfast for the hangover.”

- “But I don’t wanna sleep, ma cherié. I wanna worship you and love you like I always dreamed of doing”- I attached my lips to her neck and started sucking on her soft skin, to refresh the marks that claimed her as mine.

- “Worship me?”- she questioned and giggled. I don’t know why she found that amusing, I was completely serious.

- “Yes, like a goddess, the sun of my life, the light of my eyes”- I mumbled and made a trail of wet kisses from her neck to her chest, but she stopped me before I could reach her breasts.

- “Spencer, you are drunk!”

- “Yes, but not really that drunk. Consider myself uninhibited.”- I rolled on the bed and positioned myself on top of her. She looked at me confused.- “I am not intoxicated, pumpkin. I just had a long conversation with Frank that made me realize I wanted to be buried deep inside of you instead of being home alone.”

- “Spencer Walter Reid, you are being very honest!”- she made a pause and gasped- “Oh my god! were you talking about sex with Frank?”

- “What? No! I swear! he just started asking things and that made me think I wanted to be with you and love you all night long.”

And without giving her time to reply or even react, I crushed my lips against her and kissed her so deeply I nearly felt dizzy. I didn’t stop kissing her until I felt her hands on my back, holding me closer to her. That’s when I moved my lips from hers and heard her soft whimper of disapproval. I would have stopped myself and continued kissing her, I just wanted to do what made her happy, but… I knew what I had in mind was gonna be so much better for her.

I kissed her jaw and neck as I removed her pajama top. Then I continued my way down her body, playing with her breast for a long while, licking all over and pinching her nipples as she twisted underneath me, whispering my name. The delicious moans coming from her were the encouragement I needed to continue. So I moved my hand underneath the waistband of her cotton pajama shorts and slid my fingers between her wet folds. Even I let out a groan when I felt her so ready for me, it made my cock even harder, confined inside my boxers.

- “Spencer, please”- I heard her whisper and I looked at her, while I continued licking her nipples and she moaned even harder as we made eye contact.

- “Let me love you”- I murmured and resumed my task. I toyed with her clit, rubbing it slowly and teasing her entrance a few times, licking my fingers just to show her how much I liked her taste.

- “Honey, please let me touch you”- she begged and I shook my head, moving my lips from her breast and down her stomach, as I also tried to keep my erection away from her hands.

- “Not yet. I wanna please you first.”

I slowly moved until my face was perfectly located between her legs. My own piece of heaven. Her breathing was already shaking and I hadn’t even touched her yet. That felt like a good boost to my ego. I wanted to be able to please my woman, literally worship her. Frank was right, I had wasted way too much time before and I couldn’t continue on that path. I needed to enjoy every second with her, ‘cos I loved her. And I knew it was forever.

I wrapped my tongue around her clit, sucking it lightly and she twisted in pleasure right away, a soft moan leaving her lips. I grabbed her tights and kept her still in front of me. My tongue ran through her folds and two of my fingers made their way slowly into her entrance.

- “God, honey”- she twisted and I tried to hold her in place.

- “You taste so sweet”- I murmured against the inside of her thighs- “I could eat you all day, every day. I love you so much, so, so much.”- I looked at her for a moment and she smiled at me. But before she could reply, I started lapping her again, eating her like a hungry man. Her body trembled underneath me and her hand quickly found my hair, fingers entangled in it, trying to guide me to her release.

- “You are gonna make me cum already”- she said after a few minutes and bit her lips- “I don’t think I’ve ever cum this fast”

- “Cum for me, ma cherie. Let me make you feel good.”- she let out a groan as I felt her wall tighten around my fingers. Her moans were more intense until she reached her peak, nearly yelling.

I didn’t des attack my lips from her cunt. Instead, I kissed it slowly as she rode her high, and I didn’t stop until overstimulation made her jump. That’s when I kissed my way up to her breast again, then to her neck, and finally her lips.

- “You really are a genius”- (Y/N) chuckled and kissed me. I ran my hand down her face and lingered my fingers on the few bruises I had left on her skin earlier that week.

- “You are my everything”- I confessed feeling my cheeks turn pink. My girlfriend smiled and kissed me again- “And I am so scared to lose you.”

- “You won’t lose me, honey. Never.”- I felt a knot in my throat thinking she didn’t know what I had done. And she should never know either. So instead of drowning myself in depressing thoughts, I decided to continue with my task and worship my girlfriend. I kissed her slowly as I got rid of my underwear and aligned my cock against her entrance.

- “Please Spencer”

- “What do you need, ma cherié?”

- “You, just you.”- her request was more than I could take and I had to fight the tears back for a moment. But it wasn't time to think, it was time to act and show her just how much I loved every inch of her.

- “You have me, always.”

With a slow movement, and looking into her eyes, I slipped inside her. She gasped and scratched my arms as I did, adjusting to the intrusion.

- “You feel so good, honey”- I heard her whisper as she smiled for a moment before I leaned over and kissed her. I could still taste her juices in my mouth and the mix in her lips was fueling me. I slowly started moving inside her, as she moaned into my mouth.

- “I could live like this, buried deep into you, fucking you slowly, watching you cum.”

- “You are very uninhibited, honey”- she giggled as I kissed her neck.

- “I did warn you that”

- “Yes, and I’m loving it”

- “Good, ‘cos I think we wasted too much time being just friends and now I want to tell you what I feel for you all the time. And right now, ma cherié, I wanna make you cum and scream my name again until you can’t feel your legs anymore.”

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