#suppose I fail and betray your dream--?! OUR dream blast you!

[dracaelus]

From The Uncanny X-men #200

This godamn issue, I swear to god- !!

I'm crying my fucking heart out. This was just too good. It broke my heart

[silkling]

Could we see some more of the Smokescreen is Amalgamous AU?

Very gladly! That AU is a guilty pleasure of mine so I’m happy someone out there likes it!

———————————————————————————————————

There was darkness. It was cold, and painful and it pulled-

The planet screamed, and his people died. They died, and died , and-

Then, heat. Like a blast, it exploded-

His children, his dearest, beloved children, could only watch in horror-

His spark sang with terror, so much he thought-

“Amalgamous.”

“Remember.”

“Do it.”

“You must remember.”

And so the other children and their father combined their powers-

“You have a duty.”

But things went wrong-

“YOU MUST-“

——————————

Smokescreen was torn from his processor with a rough, choking gasp, and he felt something disconnect from the back of his helm. His shuddered on the hard metal berth he was strapped down to, his optics taking a moment longer to clear of the dark static clouding them. When they did, he turned his head towards the sounds he was hearing and saw Knock Out disconnecting Megatron from the cortical psychic patch. The warlord was on his pedes and at Smokescreen’s face in half a sparkbeat.

“What was that, Autobot? Why could I not walk through your processor as I pleased?” he snarled.

Smokescreen could only groan and let his helm fall back against the berth. “You really think I know? I don’t. I’ve been having those weird dreams and hearing those voices in my helm ever since I got to Earth.” he snapped irritably. “Sure, I heard weird things in my recharge sometimes on Cybertron, but it only ever got bad on this planet.” If he could have thrown his hands up, he would have.

Megatron stepped back, seemingly confused. “…you are very free with your tongue on this matter.” he remarked dryly.

Smokescreen shot him a look. “It’s annoying. And frustrating. I don’t know if I’m going insane or if there’s just a really traumatic set of memories from my youth that suddenly want me to remember them, but I never get a clear grasp on what I happen to see or hear. You think I want any of that? You got snippets of just a couple of my nights. I have to deal with that slag all night, every night, whenever I recharge.” his tone was tired and wry.

Megatron, blessedly, didn’t seem to take offense. He was too confused and weirded out. It seemed he got over it quickly though, because then his face twisted into a cruel snarl again and he turned to Knock Out. “We will try again. Increase the strength of the machine. I intend to go deeper. I will learn the function of these infernal relics and the location of the Autobot base.” he spat, whirling and returning to the other berth.

Before Smokescreen could protest, the patch was attached to the back of his helm again and he was pulled back into his own processor.

——————————

He had snuck out of his berthroom. He knew he wasn’t supposed to, and if one of his big brothers found out he’d be in so much trouble, but he was bored! It was so dull in his room, and even trying to imagine new shapes and forms and doing his best to change into them was starting to feel monotonous. He just wanted to explore! He was still a sparkling, was it too much to ask for some entertainment?

He toddled last guards and servants alike, staying close to the wall and in the shadows to keep out of sight. He had a mission, and no one was going to stop him!

“There you are, Ammy! I was looking for you, little one.”

No one except his big sister, apparently. He squealed as slim hands lifted him up and tucked him against a lithe chest, his small lips turning downwards in a pout. “Sol! No!” he whined.

Sol only smiled indulgently. “Oh? Why not? Why aren’t you in your room, little Ammy?”

He sagged. “Don’t wanna.” He mumbled. “‘S boring. No one wants to play and lessons are hard and big brothers don’t like me so can’ ask them for help.” he said miserably.

Sol softened. “Oh sweetspark, why would you ever believe our brothers don’t like you?”

He shot her a confused look, lifting a hand and trying to change it into a claw, only…it failed and transformed into a flipper instead. After a moment, the transformation seemed to shudder and his servo reverted back to normal without him having sent the command. “Cause I can’t do good with the gift Sire gave me?”

Sol laughed, light and free. “Oh little one.” she cooed. “It’s perfectly alright that you’re going slow. You have a wonderful, amazing gift, and if it takes you a little longer to figure it out then that’s not a problem. Our brothers don’t blame you for that, nor do they hate you.”

He whimpered, lower lip trembling. “Then why…?”

She sighed. “They are mechs, dearest little brother. Very foolish young mechs with the emotional intelligence of a treat oven.” she remarked dryly.

He blinked, then giggled despite himself.

Sol smiled at him, pleased to see her youngest brother cheering up. “Promise me you won’t ever be as emotionally posh and stunted as them, will you little Ammy?”

He beamed, his chest plates puffing out. “Promise!” he crowed.

Sol grinned. “Good. Now, where was it you were going on your little adventure? Perhaps you’d like a lieutenant for your quest?” she asked.

He gasped, delighted. Big sister was going to join him? That would be perfect! “The Singing Crystals!”

Sol laughed, and turned in the direction of the gardens. “Then to the Singing Crystals we shall go!”

He could only giggle in utter delight, a gentle adoration for his sister and sheer joy at being acknowledged filling his spark.

Now, if only he could convince his biggest brother to let him try his cool sword…

——————————

Smokescreen groaned as he was forced into the conscious world again. “Can you stop that?” he complained weakly. “It’s a pain and I can’t think right.”

The warlord, who was also coming up after that, only snarled and stood. “What was that?” he spat.

“I don’t know! How many times do I have to tell you! That was new, even for me, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything about it because I have no clue what it was!”

The exhausted shout seemed to give Megatron pause. “So I see.” he said darkly. “You do not have siblings, then?”

“No!” Smokescreen groaned. “No brothers, no sisters, and I don’t even remember my creators. I grew up in a Youth Center, for Pit’s sake. Not…what that was.”

Megatron hummed. The youngling seemed to be telling the truth. He could tell that the repeated uses of the cortical psychic patch had exhausted the young mechling. There was no deception in his tone or body language or EM field. The warlord thought he was too mentally drained to even try and come up with a proper lie. Which meant he really did know nothing, and that was even more irritating. With a disgusted scoff, he grabbed the odd relic and turned to the door.

“Knock Out!” he barked over his shoulder. “You will continue. Do not stop until you have the information I require. Rip his mind to pieces if you must!” and then the doors shut behind him, and the two sports cars were left alone.

Knock Out sighed, and before the youngling could pull his mind together he reattached the patch, before setting the machine to pull him out after a set amount of time and went to the other berth to plus himself into it. Whatever his Lord demanded, he had to obey. It was annoying, really. This task was so beneath him. Regardless, he attached himself to the machine, and then the world faded to dark.

——————————

They were floating in darkness. Smokescreen didn’t know why. Though, he was pleased to note he wasn’t being thrown into visions or voices or memories this time around. At least he could avoid that headache. But, he couldn’t see the medic and that worried him. Was the Deception actually rooting around his memory banks. He felt a sharp pain, and a flash of memory from his time at the Archives assaulted him before it faded. Apparently yes, Knock Out was in fact ripping through his memories to get what he wanted.

Panic boiled in his chest and he wanted to scream. No! He refused to let the ‘Cons figure out what the Keys were for or where the base was. He wouldn’t betray the team like that. He wouldn’t! His panic grew as there was another stab of pain, another snapshot of a memory, and then…something in the very depths of his processor surged to the forefront. It wasn’t a personality. It wasn’t a memory. Smokescreen knew that much. Something in his spark settled, telling him that it was an echo, and impression of instinct and reflex and knowledge that had once been his. It circled and coiled around him, settling against his frame, and Smokescreen….gave in to it. Maybe it would help him stop knock Out.

As soon as he did, the feel of the Autobot’s mind changed, becoming older, more powerful and heavier on the one rooting through his memories. It made Knock Out pause, and he sensed a presence roaring towards him.

“Leave, intruder. You have no right to sift through the mind of a Prime. Leave, before I see fit to fry your processor!”

Knock Out gasped, and then the thing, whatever it was, he couldn’t even see it, rammed into him at full speed, and he was flung from the Autobot’s mind.

——————————

Knock Out came to with a yell and an ungainly flail. He flailed himself right off the berth, hitting the ground with a harsh crash and blinking the static from his vision. He looked to the Autobot to demand what in the Pit had happened, only-

Only there was a femme there. She was transparent and her colors couldn’t really be determined, her flickering form shining with a golden orange glow. She turned to him at his shout, humming. She seemed amused. “I see you’ve learned what it means to go up against my little brother, medic.” a faint smirk twisted at elegant features, “I suggest you endeavor to avoid angering him in the future. He is the most laid back of all my siblings, but it only means that in the end, his anger is the rarest and most fearsome.” she purred.

Then she seemingly dismissed him, turning to the Autobot instead. She leaned in, her fingers brushing his cheek. “It’s time to wake up, dearest Ammy. There’s still work to be done.” she cooed. She swiped her hand through the machine for the cortical psychic patch, and it fritzed and disconnected itself from the youngling. He began stirring, and the femme smiled. “Come now, don’t be difficult. Wake up, little brother.” she whispered, her hand swiping through the restraints. They disengaged, and the Autobot fell to his knees on the floor.

That was enough to snap Knock Out out of his staring, and he made to get up and stop whatever this all was when he felt a clawed servo dig into his shoulder. He glanced back, seeing another pale, ghostly shape, this time a large and pointy mech flowing with a deep blue light, and baring sharp dentae at him. “Do not try to stop us, little mech. Will not allow it.” And then the mech glowed brighter for a second, and Knock Out fell back into unconsciousness.

——————————

Smokescreen onlined his optics to the phantom feeling of fingers brushing his cheek. He shook his head, clearing the buzz of static, and his vocalizer clicked with his confusion. He remembered the odd presence in his mind, that had been a part of him but also one not fully integrated, and…he didn’t know what to make of it. It was gone, now, resettled into the back of his processor, but he could still feel it there. It was important. Whatever it was, it was the other half of…whatever is was the voices seemed to desperate for him to remember.

He looked up, doorwings hitching when he saw the ghostly femme. It was the one from his vision. Or had it actually be a memory? If it was, isn’t hadn’t been his. She smiled at him, leaning in to brush lips across his forehelm.

“You must go now, little brother. You have a duty to fulfill. Reclaim the Keys and return to your friends.” she smiled gently. “You’re getting very close, my Ammy. You must remember soon. Cybertron’s children depend on it.” Before he could question her, she stepped back and stood. “I cannot maintain my presence on this plane any longer. The rest is up to you.” And then she was gone.

He blinked, resetting his vocalizer, and glanced over to see the medic was unconscious. He had no idea what was going on. He was starting to accept that this just might be his life now. “Okay then.” he said after a moment.

He stood, and his optics fell on the Phase Shifter on the table by the berth he’d been strapped to. He was quick to grab it and lock it around his wrist, and then he was moving. Most of his escape to the upper deck was a haze. He moved on instinct built in by his training as an Elite Guard, but also….also other instincts, instincts that could only come from that place in the back of his processor that felt like it was a piece of his very spark.

It was when he was in free fall that he was able to pull back to himself, just as his comm. beeped. He accepted it, already knowing who was on the other end.

“Kid!”

Yep, that was Ratchet. “Hey, Ratch!” he said cheerfully, though he couldn’t keep the sheer exhaustion from his voice. “I really, really need a ground bridge right about now!”

“It’s coming kid, just hold on.”

And then there was silence on his end of the comm. line. After a moment, a ground bridge opened under him, and he remembered to turn off the phase shifter, stowing the Omega Keys in his subspace while he was at it. Of course, Megatron chose that moment to slam into him and send him flying. He panicked, and when he tried to turn the phase shifter on again he realized he couldn’t. It had been damaged when Megatron hit him. It would be an easy enough fix…if he could get back to base, that is. Unfortunately, it looked like that wouldn’t be happening. The ground was too close for Ratchet to open up another ground bridge.

“Youngling!” Ratchet’s voice was frantic over the comms. “You’re about to fall into a technological dead zone. We won’t be able to communicate with you or track your-“ and then the signal cut off. Slag. His team couldn’t save him, and Megatron was quickly gaining on his falling form.

If only he had wings and thrusters-!

And then his doorwings and pedes tingled, and he did. That same instinct that had led him out of the Nemesis guided him into turning on the thrusters, and then he was shooting up and away from the ground. He increased power to them, and he was rocketing away from Megatron’s pursuing form. His processor was scrambling like mad, trying to understand why he was suddenly flight capable. This shouldn’t be possible. Only Shifters we’re able to transform so freely and fluidly. But Shifters had also died out generations ago, so he couldn’t be one…could he?

Yes. That increasingly familiar instinct purred.

He kept flying, going and going as his mind buzzed and could never come up with answers. He only stopped when his pedes, or rather his thrusters, started to throb, and he realized he was pushing too much power into them. He landed, stumbling and crashing as his pedes touched down, and he just wanted the unfamiliar additions gone. His frame tingled again, and then they were gone. Though, he realized his pedes still hurt, and when he looked down he saw they were damaged. The injuries had carried over from the thrusters, maybe? It didn’t matter. The others would assume it was Decepticon doing. He wouldn’t correct them. Whatever his frame had done…he didn’t think it was wise to let anyone know just yet.

His comm. beeped again, and he accepted on reflex.

“Smokescreen!” Oh hey, it was Prime. “Youngling, are you harmed? We have picked up your signal once more. How did you get there?”

“I-“ and he couldn’t keep his vocalizer from spitting static as his voice broke due to exhaustion. He reset it, trying again. “I don’t know, Sir.” he said, falling back on ingrained military training. “After I lost communications everything just happened so fast and it’s all just a haze.”

There was silence on the other end, before Prime’s once came back, notably softer. “Ratchet is sending a ground bridge. Just come home for now, Smokescreen. We can worry about the details of your escape once you’ve recovered. Are you hurt?”

The ground bridge spiraled open in front of him, and the young Praxian swallowed. “A little. Mostly tired. I have the Keys.” he said numbly, then dropped the line and stepped through the bridge.

He pulled the Omega Keys from his subspace as he did so. As soon as he stepped into the base, the bridge closed behind him and he pushed the Keys into the arms of the nearest person, who turned out to be Bumblebee. He heard Ratchet curse, and realize the medic probably saw the state of his pedes. Yeah, they weren’t pretty. They were also very, very painful. He turned to the medic to ask him about that, but before he could he felt a small prick in his neck cables, and the was slipping into blissful darkness.

——————————

Back in the forest where Smokescreen had stepped into the bridge, two ghostly forms shimmered into view. One, a golden femme. The other, a midnight mech.

The femme spoke first. “Even in a new frame and with no memories of his true self, Ammy is still the same.” she sounded inexplicably fond.

“Ugh. I would have hoped his lack of memories would grant him the chance to learn maturity.” the mech groused.

She laughed. “Come now, Onyx. You know you love him as much as the rest of us.”

Onyx growled, eyes narrowing. “He has to remember soon,Solus. Otherwise, it may be too late.”

“He will.” Solus said, confident. “Of course, he would remember sooner if Sire would stop being so cryptic and just send him a clear message.”

The two ghostly forms looked at each other, before snorting and devolving to laughter.

“The day Sire abandons his riddles and puzzles is the day the Unmaker decides to become a treat maker. It’s not happening.” Onyx sniggered roughly.

Solus hummed. “No, I imagine not. That just means it’s up to dearest Amalgamous to figure it out on his own. I have faith, though. He’s always been clever.”

Onyx sighed. “You’re right, I know you are. I just wish he’d hurry it up and remember. The fate of Cybertron may well depend on it.”

And then, the two forms faded from this plane and returned to their own, the powers that had allowed them to cross over now spent. All that was left was two swirling eddies of leaves on the wind, in the spaces they had once stood.

———————————————————————————————————

And there it is! It’s all starting to come together at last! Poor Smokescreen still has no idea what’s happening, but he’s getting more and more pieces of the puzzle with each day. This time, he even got a proper memory! And his Shifter abilities are starting to return!

Unfortunately for him, now it’s not just Optimus who suspects that there’s something up with Smokey. Megatron just doesn’t know if the young Autobot is insane, or is it’s something…more.

I hope everyone liked that! It was fun to write. I like Smokescreen. I wish more people did.

As always, my ask box is always open if you want to ask a question about anything to do with me/my blog/my AUs, or if you just want to send in a fic prompt yourself.

Until next time, friends!

[ace-oreos]

I love the way you write fordo and alpha! If you’re still doing asks could u do a one shot where Frodo is badly injured and Alpha saves his shebse? He’s pissed to all nine hells to mask how genuinely scared he is of losing him

AHHH thank you! That means so much! <3 I really love their chaotic dumb siblings who actually care about each other underneath the snark dynamic; it’s a blast to write them every time.

I’m starting to think I just might be able to write hurt/comfort instead of straight up angst. Who knew?? XD

The comm call Alpha has come to expect and dreads nonetheless comes not long after he returns to base thinking it’d be best for everyone if the Republic just pulled out of this one. The planet’s a mess, caught in the ugly crossfire of a back and forth we-want-what-you’ve-got that’s characterized the Republic’s mindset lately. It’s no way to run an army, but no one ever thinks to ask Alpha’s opinion anyway.

The message - passed on in harried, strained tones by one of Fordo’s subordinates - leaves an ache in his throat and his pulse hammering a restless, frantic rhythm. We don’t know how it happened. Everything was moving so fast…  

In another world, the comlink slips from numb fingers and feelings he can’t begin to describe fill the subsequent silence, leave him choking and drowning -

But he can’t afford to fall apart. 

Alpha reverts to the basics. Armor plates attached to the bodysuit, helmet snapped into place, comms up and running. Run a cursory check of his armor’s systems, ensure his weapons are fully operational. He’s not leaving anything to chance; Fordo’s men aren’t entirely confident the area is secure.

It doesn’t take him long to find the site of the ambush. They’ve been wary of this pass from day one - horribly exposed and overlooked by steep slopes, they’re confined to the one fixed route that dissects the mountain range. With little to offer by way of cover, the half-kilometer between the base and the valley has become a hotspot for enemy contact. 

After five weeks on the ground, Fordo knows the dangers as well as he does. And look where it got you. You shabuir, you told me you would go careful and yet you throw yourself into the line of fire the first chance you get.

And isn’t it just like Fordo to take a hit to spare a brother without a second thought. So Alpha can’t be - shouldn’t be - selfish. Shouldn’t feel as though Fordo has betrayed him somehow. 

“Captain.” Fordo’s second offers a weary salute. 

The last thing Alpha wants is to be captain right now, but for his brothers’ sake he does his best to keep his fear and everything that accompanies it under wraps. Then Fordo’s voice reaches him, and that carefully constructed veneer nearly buckles. 

“You’re overreacting, Seventeen.” Fordo is propped against a rock while the squad’s medic works. Blood oozes sluggishly between the armor plates on his torso, and his face is a mess of blood and dirt, but he’s alive. “Riding to the rescue isn’t your style.”

“I just couldn’t say away,” Alpha says sardonically, fighting the urge to assess Fordo’s wounds for himself. Their medic is perfectly competent and would likely operate more efficiently without an ARC breathing down his neck. 

“Lucky you didn’t get your head blown off, running into a combat zone like that.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be lecturing me,” Alpha shoots back before he can catch himself.

“I told you.” Fordo directs this at his second. “This is exactly why he wasn’t supposed to know.”

The man’s expression is studiously blank. “Whatever you say, sir.”

“I told him you’d only fuss,” Fordo continues, then breaks off with a grimace. “Then again, maybe you had reason to, yeah?”

“Di’kut,” Alpha says, even though there are a number of other things he’d be more than happy to say right now. Reckless and foolhardy and just about everything else Alpha himself has been branded by none other than General Kenobi.

Fordo’s second interrupts. “Unless we’re looking to be a welcoming party for the next Separatist patrol, it’s time to get moving.” 

___________________________

“Have you lost your mind?” 

“Keep your voice down,” Fordo says amicably. “Acting all huffy won’t do you any favors.”

“Won’t - you nearly died, you shabuir - ”

“Well, you’re in luck, ‘cos I’m not dead just yet.”

“I’m not sure that counts as lucky,” Alpha snaps. It’s only a matter of time. I thought I would be able to handle it. Now I’m starting to wonder...

“I’m touched, Seventeen. Really.”

“Osik, you’re a pain.”

Fordo flashes a crooked grin. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

This is why I tried to push you away. “Keep dreaming.”

“Well, with an attitude like that, I guess I’ll just have to watch my own back, then.”

“And then what?” Alpha demands. It comes out more harshly than he intends, and he feels a faint twinge of regret when Fordo looks taken aback. It’s soon swallowed by something bigger, something looming and tumultuous and painful in a way that makes his chest tighten and his hands clench. “Whatever’s left of you is left to rot on some hellhole, and screw the galaxy?”

Fordo’s composed weathering of Alpha’s temper is giving way to anger. “The galaxy has screwed us over from day one. If the most I can hope for is that my death serves a purpose somehow, then so be it. I can’t take issue with that.”

“I’m sure the shabuire sitting fat and happy in the Senate will be glad to know their osik got in our heads,” Alpha snarls. 

“What happened to serving the Republic? Getting cold feet, Seventeen?” There’s awful sarcasm in Fordo’s voice, but there’s still truth in his words, and it stings in a way Alpha isn’t prepared for. 

“You know I would choose our vode over the Republic any day.”

“That’s rich coming from you. So you’ve had a change of heart since Kamino - ”

Alpha is on his feet now, blood boiling. “We had orders. I wasn’t going to throw it all away.”

“Jango’s man to the last,” Fordo spits out, all acid.

“You were dead for all I knew!” 

A range of emotions play across Fordo’s face. Alpha looks away, grappling with nauseating shame and a sort of blind fear he’s never experienced in such an abject way. 

His brother’s voice is soft when he finally says, “Sev.” 

He can’t shake the sense that he’s failed somehow. Failed his father, failed his brothers, failed everything he’s ever fought for - 

“Alpha,” Fordo tries again. His hand finds Alpha’s, holds on tight. Alpha can’t bring himself to pull away. “It’s okay, ner vod. I didn’t realize… ”

“You really thought I didn’t care?” Alpha asks softly. I tried not to. I thought it would be better for everyone that way.

“I never can tell just what’s going through your head.” Fordo pauses. “But I think I knew. In your own way, of course.”

Alpha swallows his pride and starts, “Look, I’m sorry if - ”

“Don’t,” Fordo interrupts. His voice softens. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He offers a small smile, and the knot in Alpha’s chest begins to unwind. He manages to return a halfhearted smile of his own. He’s navigating unfamiliar territory - and he’ll have to confront it again someday - but for now… well, he prefers to focus on what’s in front of him. 

Fordo squeezes his hand and lets go. “Okay, alor’ad?”

Alpha can’t help rolling his eyes. “I’m starting to think you should’ve been assigned to Kenobi. You’re awfully dramatic.”

“Denial isn’t a good look on you, ner vod.”

“Oh, come off it,” Alpha huffs. “You and Kenobi could have your own holodrama.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You just don’t want to admit I’m right.”

In the end, neither of them are willing to admit defeat, but Alpha leaves the med tent undeniably smug for the truce he managed to negotiate.

[interstellarflowers]

i want you to know | peter parker x reader | chapter two

a/n hey everyone, this is part two of i want you to know also sorry if you live elsewhere where you don’t have a summer break or don’t have it in July and August, it’s just that Peter lives in NY (Queens, specifically) and so do I, so I’m writing it like that

t/w angst, self-destructive behavior, endgame spoilers

i want you to know | chapter two: at the edge

chapter one | chapter three | chapter four | masterlist

Peter Parker walked the halls of school like a ghost. Tired and drained. Haphazardly opening his locker and putting away his books. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent, but to him, you were worth more than all of the sleep in the world. He could go without sleeping, what he couldn’t go without, was you.

“(y/n) again?” Ned asked Peter with a pitiful expression on his face.

Peter just nodded and gave him a fatigued smile as they both sat down in the cafeteria.

“Has she been able to sleep at all?” Ned asked worrying for his friend who he hasn’t seen in months.

Peter shook his head and Ned sighed,

“Ever since her Dad died…”

“I know.”

“The world lost a great man,” Ned said shaking his head sorrowfully and getting up to rid of his lunch tray,

“(y/n) lost a great Dad.” Ned paused and turned around.

“When was the last time that you slept?”

“Me? This-”

“Not on the subway.”

Peter shrugged,

“I know she’s our friend, but take care of yourself too. She would’ve wanted you to.”

You had work to get done. You sat down at the desk...It used to be your Dad’s, now it was just you and Uncle Bruce in this lab. Well, sometimes, Uncle Bruce.

You remembered when you were really young, maybe six or seven. The first time your Dad had taken you into the lab. It seemed so big, especially to a child. Mysterious electronic boxes beeped and booped, and wires littered the floor. To anyone else, it might have seemed messy, ugly even, but you thought it was beautiful. The AC was always blasting in order to protect the computers from heat, but you thought that it was the warmest place in the house. Uncle Bruce, Dad, and you, all together messing around in the lab for hours on end. That was home.

You open your eyes, ending your daydream and find yourself in an unfamiliar lab. The surroundings were the same but the feelings that hit you were entirely different. The room was just...cold. Desolate, empty, it made your heart ache. It made it ache for your Dad. It made it ache for your Aunt Nat. It made it long for Uncle Bruce’s presence, it made it want him to show up today, but you knew he only went into the lab certain days of the week. Even the strongest can only handle a room so cold and empty for so long. Your heart ached for Peter Parker. You wanted him so badly, but you couldn’t have him. Everything you loved seemed to break.

How crazy it seemed that after all of this you were still hooked on Peter Parker. The very thought of it made you laugh to yourself. Resenting someone beyond belief and wanting them simultaneously, how ridiculous. You laughed to yourself some more, you laughed a little too hard for a little too long, and that’s when you realized that you weren’t laughing because you found it humorous.

You can’t want anymore. You sat down at what used to be your Dad’s desk and got to work. You knew deep down that he probably wouldn’t be proud of you for this, doing something so dangerous in spite of all of the warnings he used to give you, but you did know that if you succeeded he would be proud. If you succeeded nobody would ever deny that you were deserving of your name. If you succeeded nobody would ever brush you off for Peter Parker ever again. If you succeeded maybe the feeling in your stomach that hasn’t gone away since you lost your Dad would dissipate. If you succeeded maybe you could find your way back home again. Was there even a way back home?

You heard a noise outside of the lab and you quickly exited out of your work, you waited a few minutes before reopening your work, wanting to make sure that nobody was going to walk in and see you, Nobody could know, well, nobody was supposed to know.

One person knew.

Only one, and it was a mistake.

The look of disappointment mixed with worry within your Uncles eyes. It broke your heart, but you couldn’t help it. You were close, you could feel it.

“(y/n),” your Uncle Bruce gave you this heart-shattering look, “How long have you been doing this?”

“Not long.” You lie through your teeth and can’t bear to meet his eyes.

“You’ve been doing it long enough,” he paused and shook his head, “I can tell.”

Truth be told, Uncle Bruce was never particularly great at the whole typical Uncle thing. You recalled a memory from age seven when your Dad caught him allowing you to play with an assortment of chemicals and then scolding him.

“I have to keep going.”

“You’re going to kill yourself, please stop...please.” He begged you, but you refused.

You could only imagine how much harder it’s become, because now not only is he an Uncle but a Father figure as well. With Steve gone and Nat gone, he was pretty much on his own. He was trying his best to guide you, be better than your Father, succeed where he failed. He may have been the only one in the world to believe you to be just as great as your Father, and for this, you were unimaginably grateful.

You gripped the edge of the lab table, groaning at the numbers on the screen. You should stop. You knew that much. There was too much risk.

“Please,” your Uncle pleaded, “We’ve lost too much already…”

You shook the memories away and your heart wrenched as you returned to your work. How hard it is to betray that look in your Uncle’s eyes.

Peter returned home from patrolling the streets at around 11 pm, it was a Friday in June, school would be over soon. Summer would soon be upon him, a summer he had been dreading. A summer without (y/n) Stark. It sounded awful. Although, he supposed that this was the least of his worries.

Peter stared into his mirror while changing, he looked at the scars that littered his body left over from the war. The dark circles growing heavier and heavier each day. Sure, he was up nearly every night trying to get through to you, but whenever he did try to sleep he couldn’t. He would always wake up no more than an hour later, haunted by what he would see when he closed his eyes.

“I am Iron Man.”

Everything after that seemed like a fever dream. Too devastating to possibly be true. The world mourned the loss of Tony Stark. Peter was crushed. Peter had lost Tony Stark, yes, this alone crushed him, but he had lost (y/n) too. He could still remember her face.

Peter looked over to (y/n) sobbing over her Dad’s body, asking him to please wake up, pleading with fate, yelling that they had won and he could wake up now...He never did wake up…

Peter could remember that very moment, when all denial of Mr.Stark’s death had faded away, at that moment he witnessed all of the life leave her eyes even though she was not dead.

He relived this moment over and over. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was her, all he was met with was her eyes and how quickly the light had flickered out of them.

Truth be told, this wasn’t the only memory that would haunt him. The moment you broke his heart was always in his mind’s eye.

“I’m fine,” you had said to him, so blatantly brushing him off before escaping to your room. Everything had changed after that. Life became nothing but a series of you brushing him off until one day you just stopped responding, until one day he had found you in your bathroom...

He flinched at the memory. These moments would haunt him forever, (y/n) Stark, would haunt him forever, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Another night you sat on the edge of the Stark Tower. Well, physically you sat at the edge of Stark Tower, otherwise, you considered yourself to be sitting on the edge of the world. The edge of your world. You awaited the arrival of Peter, he always seemed to show up at the same time, like clockwork. 

“(y/n)?” 

Just like clockwork.

Your world was small. It was you and the repercussions of your loss, but sometimes, despite everything, there was Peter.

tag list

@heartbeats-wildly @editsbyjenny @loxbbg @joe-mazzello-is-my-dad @imslightlyconfused 

a/n i hope you liked it, thank you so much for reading if you want to be on my taglist just let me know through the comment section or my ask box, thank you also stay tuned for chapter three because something relatively big that was a loose end in this chapter will be revealed and something big is gonna happen yup 

[ladylynse]

Back with more of my fic Passageway (Part 3). This one’s dark; Danny hasn’t figured things out yet.

Passageway: [FF | AO3] Even when Danny knows it’s coming, he can’t stop it. (Danny as the ghost portal AU)

(Part 2)

The device sparked and died in Danny’s hands. It was just another failed prototype, another thing he couldn’t use.

His parents didn’t understand the reason for the increase in ghostly activity, but once the ghosts had begun causing trouble, they’d turned from the intent to study to the intent to defend. For every capture and containment device they invented, they created two more offensive weapons with the intent of protecting of Amity Park.

But they didn’t know enough about the ghosts for everything to be effective, and their miscalculations—

“You haven’t learned yet, have you?” the ghost before Danny taunted. It had changed again and was back to wearing his face, using his voice. It knew how much that unsettled him. “You thought you could fight. That’s cute. But you can’t. You don’t know how this works. You don’t understand anything. You don’t even understand yourself.” It smiled at him and tilted its head. “I do.”

Danny tried to swallow down the fear that was crawling back up his throat. The ghost was right; he didn’t know everything. He was still trying to figure it out. And he was failing. And because of that, this ghost was….

Danny didn’t know for sure, but there had been…incidents. Too many for him to believe it a coincidence when he knew what this ghost could do. He’d started keeping a sharper eye out, searching for any sort of clue, and that’s when he’d seen Valerie walk past the Nasty Burger.

Even though he could see her inside, talking to Star.

He’d cut and run without giving Sam and Tucker an explanation, but they had most likely assumed that it was happening again, that something was coming. They couldn’t help him stop it, and he didn’t want everyone to know, so in the end it had become routine for them to distract anyone who tried to follow him while he found somewhere private. It was the only way they knew how to help, the only way he wanted them to help. Everything else was too dangerous.

But he’d thought the weapon he’d stolen from the lab last week would work.

He hadn’t thought he’d be facing down a ghost unprepared.

The ecto-gun prototype had passed its preliminary tests, but it hadn’t been able to stand up in a real fight. One good blast had sent it flying across the warehouse floor, and even after he’d managed to retrieve it…. Maybe it was frozen, maybe it was fried, but the ghost had disrupted it somehow. He’d had a moment of hope when he’d first tried using it again, but now it wouldn’t even power up.

The ghost lunged forward, and Danny wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way. It tackled him and held him down in a grip stronger than Danny’s own, and its grin grew. The disturbed dust motes had Danny coughing, but somehow, the slight grey coating on the ghost’s hair only made it seem more sinister. “You’ve been very good about keeping our secret,” it said, not seeming to exert any effort in keeping Danny pinned no matter how hard he struggled, “but in light of your little plan, failure though it was, I’m not sure that’s enough.”

Shock stilled him for a moment. “What do you mean?” His voice climbed, betraying his panic if his face hadn’t already done so.

“You’re powerful, but you’re not very useful as you are,” the ghost said frankly. “I should keep you somewhere till I can bring more of my friends out to play. I wouldn’t have to do much more than leave a trail of clues in the wrong direction and make a big show of running away, and then we could have more time together.”

Danny tried to choke out some kind of protest, but it came out as a wordless whine. He wished he thought someone would hear him if he screamed, but he realized now the ghost had led him here on purpose. Towards the old industrial part of town. Through a hole in a loose chain-link fence, in through the side door with the broken lock, and out into the thick dust and cobwebs of some old manufacturing plant.

“Oh, I wouldn’t hurt you more than I need to,” the ghost assured him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Danny didn’t answer, and the ghost laughed.

“You’ll like my friends, too. We have such fun together, and it won’t take much for you to bring them through.”

Unfortunately, that was true enough. It really wouldn’t. Not when Danny could barely control this.

He’d gotten a bit better at actually emptying his mind instead of picking something to focus on, but he could still count on both hands the number of times he’d actually been successful in closing the passageway inside of him. And the moment he wasn’t alone, the moment he couldn’t focus, the moment this ghost decided to torture him—

It needed him alive, but that was about it. It didn’t need him healthy, or mobile, or really anything beyond conscious enough to allow the portal inside him to open. And considering he’d woken from dreams with ghostly fire searing in his throat or spitting up leaves, he wasn’t wholly sure about the conscious part, either.

The ghost had called him powerful, but it was only the thing inside him that was powerful.

“My parents will know you’re not me,” Danny whispered. “My sister, my friends—”

“—have never noticed before.” The ghost was dismissive, but the words took away Danny’s breath. He didn’t need to think too hard to understand the implications. The ghost had masqueraded as him before and gotten away with it. It had been planning this. It might have even planned all of this.

Instead of catching it off its guard, Danny had followed it into a trap.

And now he was going to pay for that mistake.

The ghost abruptly released him and climbed to its feet. “I’ll come get you when I’m ready,” it said.

Danny stared at it from his position on the cold concrete floor, still trembling and not trusting that the ghost was really letting him go. Maybe it was just another trick. Maybe it was messing with him, wanting him to think he was free before it—

“But just know that if you tell anyone,” it continued blithely, “I’ll possess your sister first. She should be able to remind me how much blood human bodies hold.”

Danny blanched and abruptly found himself fighting the urge to be sick—actually sick, not ghost-sick. He spun onto his hands and knees and gagged, coughing and hacking and heaving. Phlegm splattered onto the floor, and he tried to calm his breathing before something worse decided to follow.

When he finally sat back, he wasn’t surprised to find that he was alone.

Just like last time.

Like he would be next time, unless he could find a way to stop the ghost first.

Danny closed his eyes on his tears and balled his hands into fists, trying to battle his emotions back into submission. He couldn’t afford to lose control. That’s what it wanted. The more chaos there was, the more distracted his parents would be.

It wanted him to panic. It wanted him focused on its threats, too terrified to turn to anyone for help. It wanted his parents focused on all the other ghosts so that they never realized it was there. It wanted his friends to stay ignorant of how deep this went so that he’d be easier to replace when the time came. If he did all that, it would win.

But if he kicked up a fuss, it wouldn’t hesitate when it came to following through on its threat.

It didn’t care about his family or his friends.

It just wanted to control him.

How was he supposed to fight back against a ghost when the only weapons he had didn’t even work?

“There has to be a way,” Danny murmured. “There just has to be.”

But he didn’t know who he could turn to for help without the ghost finding out. He didn’t even know what his next move should be. Unless his parents invented something that worked consistently….

He’d figure something out.

He had to.

(see more fics | next)

[im-american-honey]

Angel On Fire Ch.I  {Micheal x Reader}

A/N: So I decided to write a Micheal X reader, mostly to help improve my writing. (And because of a dream I had.) I have a plan for this story but if it doesn’t do well then yeah I won't continue it. Anyways enjoy :)

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No light, no light in your bright blue eyes / I never knew daylight could be so violent / A revelation in the light of day / You can’t choose what stays and what fades away / Florence And The Machines

—————————————————

The smell of rotting corpses is something I never get used to, even after the blast over a year ago. Just piles of bodies, full of diseases and radiation. All I could do is go fast on my motorcycle, look straight ahead, and avoid running over bodies or cannibals. Right now I have to be somewhere. Meet the boy I loved but betrayed, and kill him. It was my mission sent from my father Archangel Raphael. As I stand in front of the old school for warlocks, my palms began to sweat. The sword in my right hand felt heavy. “I can’t do this. I can’t.” I say out loud. “It is your duty Y/N. You can not fail us. You and the others are humanity’s last hope.” The voice of my father replays in my head. I took a deep breath and made my way inside the school.

As I walk down the dimly lit hallway I smell something so familiar. This place reeks of...

Death.

So soon?

“I thought the world would end in ice and fire, not witches and warlocks.” Myrtle Snow says. She was there with Madison Montgomery and Cordelia Foxx, the Supreme witch. On the stair was Mead, surprisingly still alive. And Michael. I was surprised at his changed appearance. His blonde hair now floated on his shoulders. He wore a finely tailored black suit with a velvet dinner jacket over it. He wasn’t the boy I knew anymore.

No.

I feel the energy cascading off of him. He was something absolutely different.

“Michael!” I yell. Everyone’s attention turns back to me, shocked. His bright blue eyes felt like daggers on me. It took everything in me to keep my composure. 

“Y/N, it’s been so long. Why now?” He looked at me with so much hurt in his eyes. Once again I am betraying him.

“I am so sorry my love.” I raise the sword to point at him. The sword glistening in excitement. “ As much as this hurts me, it is my duty to bring the dark prince to his knees.” As the words came out of my mouth so did the tears. It made me angrier.

For a second his I did see the Michael I fell in love with. His face becoming soft. But it quickly turns into a smirk, then a chuckle. “Well my Star, I guess the world shall end not with witches and warlocks; but with Angels and Demons.”

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Three years earlier

“There’s a boy over at that devil lady’s house,” says Janet, my adopted mother. “Her grandson or something.”

“Why is this important Jan?” My adopted father Andy asks with a mouth full of quiche. He was never a fan of talking gossip, especially at our church’s Sunday lunch. We were sitting at a picnic table with Mr. and Mrs. Price and their two daughters Melinda and Stacey. 

“Well I must talk, shouldn’t I? That woman has lived alone all her life with her cult being the only ones to come over. Now she has a young boy living with her? Who knows if that is even her relative?”

“He could have adopted him. Like how you adopted Y/N.” My little sister Pam says.

“Don’t be silly Pam. Your father and I had to go through a rigorous process to make sure she had a good home. They wouldn’t let people like that satanist adopt, much less foster a child.” 

“You know you’re right Jan.” Chimes in Mrs. Price. “ Something about that just doesn’t sit right with me about that boy. Who knows, he might just be there to attract young girls there for their sacrifices”

“Oh god, Honey should you be saying such things in front of the kids.” Mr. Price says. 

“ Have you seen that boy darling? He is one handsome boy. He has the blazing blue eyes and the shaggy blonde hair girls our daughter’s ages go wild for. I can see no other reason for bringing that boy into her house that to attract young virgins-”Before Mrs. Price could finish Father quickly cuts her off. “I’m sorry, how about you girls go for a walk, okay.” 

And we did so. We decided to take a walk around the block. As we did so Melinda started to discuss the mystery boy. “Do you really think he’s here to take our virginities. Because I honestly wouldn’t mind. We saw him at the grocery store with the witch and when I say he is hot I mean like, Chris Evans hot. Seriously, I would let him raw me any day.”

A little groan comes from Pam. She just turned twelve. Talking about sex makes her uncomfortable, even though she will learning more about it this year in her health class. But Melinda will be the one to always take the talk to another level.

“Melinda, didn’t you brag last week that you and Jacob did it on the beach?” I questioned. 

“ Yeah we did, but that was from the other entrance. Totally doesn’t count.”

“Yes, it does.” A voice from behind us suddenly says. I turned around to see a boy around six foot wearing black jeans, a sweater, and boots. His vivid blue eyes stare at us impishly. “New kid aren’t you?” I ask. He smirks and holds out his hand. “ My name is Michael.” 

“Y/N.” I shake his hand. Instantly I feel this energy running through me. Something strange. It was a bad feeling. A really bad feeling.

I knew he felt it too by the look he gave me. And for a minute we stood tranced by this bizarre energy. “Um hi, just want to say that I am a virgin, Okay?” Melinda continues. Snapping out the trance Michael looks over at her. “No your not.”

“You’re really not Melinda.” Stacey silently whispers. This sets Melinda off, as she grabs me by the arms and pulls me away. “C’mon, we weren’t even supposed to be anywhere near this creep anyways.” She drags me along as the other two follow. 

“I hope to see you again Y/N.,” says Michael waving. I look back at him, still in the rapture of the energy shared between us.

[postedbygaslight]

You’ll Be the One to Turn - Part 44: Lux Aeterna

These chapters have taken a lot out of me. I don’t know if there’ll be a proper chapter 45. I’ll probably write three epilogues. But I’m not even going to begin to think about that right now. I’m emotionally blasted, and I’m taking a rest.

He’s dead. He’s supposed to be. And yet, his eyes open. Only, are they really his eyes? Are these eyelids? Is this his face? Is what he’s feeling a feeling at all? Or just the dream of a feeling?

Or the feeling of a dream.

Or nothing.

Everything.

It’s dark, but, yet, not. It’s light so bright it’s blinding. It’s endless gray that never actually begins. And yet it always has been. Where did this start? He’s unable to grasp what he’s meant to do. Or see. If doing or seeing are actual things in this place he’s found himself. If this is a place at all.

Rey.

He can see her.

He can’t remember her face. He can’t forget it.

The future she showed him haunts him. It sustains him. He hasn’t had time to understand it. He’s known it so long, he no longer knows anything else.

Time, it seems, has no power here. One second is a lifetime. One lifetime, a second.

And the warp and weft of Force’s endless loom spools our before him, offering numberless causeways to travel, threads to follow. But he can’t see the one thread he’s looking for.

This shouldn’t be happening, he thinks. And then he falls into a rhetorical trap, debating whether he can think anything at all, and whether anything at all can happen to someone who’s already been torn away from the Living Force.

But has he been torn away? What actually happened?

He bled to death in Rey’s arms on Naboo.

He was killed by Rey in a duel on Starkiller Base.

He was incinerated on the deck of his Star Destroyer when the stormtroopers rebelled.

He died, a lightsaber scorching through his heart, at the hands of his uncle, while he slept.

How many futures have already been spent? How many pasts never were?

And all at once, he’s himself again. Whatever that means. He’s standing on the salt flats of Crait as the sun sets. The wind is high, sweeping across the barren landscape. There’s no battle here. No rebel base. No wounded hatred. No desperate need to burn away the weak parts of himself. Just the salt and the sun, and an endless cloud streaked sky.

“Ben,” a voice resonates across the distances, sage and knowing.

Ben turns to see him, much as he looked that day, walking toward him, a being of dim light tinged with an aura of gentle blue.

“Luke.”

Luke, dressed in his simple Jedi robes, comes to a halt a few paces from Ben. His face is tired and careworn, but peaceful.

“You already know what I’m going to say,” Luke says, a deeply mournful tone in his soft voice.

“You said it once already.”

“And I’ll never be able to say it enough.”

Ben can’t see the point of this. His life is over. Whatever place or time they’ve come to, whether Luke is truly sorry, and whether Ben accepts that, the time has come and gone for that to have any meaning.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Luke says, walking a step closer to him. “It matters more now than ever.”

Ben remembers the night in his room at the temple. It’s a memory he’d nurtured and protected, returning to it again and again to fuel his terror, his fury, his abject hatred, and to let the cold of the cruel darkness take root in his heart. He remembers it so vividly that it strikes him now that he doesn’t have a single memory of Luke other than that one that seems to hold any meaning anymore.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Ben says, an angry tremor stirring in his voice, even as he feels nothing of the rage that he once held in his heart toward Luke.

“You don’t have to forgive me, and I’m not asking for forgiveness,” Luke says, sitting on a large rock that Ben hadn’t noticed before.  “I only want you to know that I know I wronged you. I didn’t trust you or myself, and I gave in to fear. I failed you. And I’m sorry.”

They’re words he’s wanted to hear. They’re words that remind him of happiness and a home he’s never sure he’s actually had, even as they stir vicious swirls of hatred deep within him. But there’s something in the way Luke said them, a note of revelation, that draws Ben in. He can suddenly sense the eddies and flows of the Force around them, and appreciates what this is.

This isn’t death. Or the netherworld. Or another plane of existence. He’s still right where he was before, cradled in Rey’s arms as he lies dying on the floor of the focusing chamber on Naboo. And he sees again his furious attempt to break the crystal’s will. His last entreaty to the phantasm of Anakin Skywalker— Darth Vader— to aid him. To bring him enough power through the darkness. And he feels again the totality of his failure, and the silence of the mask on the altar.

“I saw his memories,” Ben says, knowing Luke can sense his thoughts. “Your father’s. I saw him turn to the Dark Side.”

“Then you saw more than I did,” Luke responds, his worn expression filled with old hurt, struck through with loss and longing. “And understand more than I ever will.”

“I understand he was cruel,” Ben says, remembering Anakin’s exhilaration as he killed the Separatists, and his sense of righteousness and dark justice as he forced Padmé to submit. “And he wanted to hurt people.”

“And he loved my mother. And his fear destroyed him.”

Ben wants to refute Luke immediately. He wants to say that Anakin didn’t love Padmé. That he couldn’t have. That he wanted only to possess and control her. But Ben knows it isn’t entirely true. He could feel the warmth of their love, a peculiar feeling when compared to the bond he and Rey built together. And he knows now that the possessive rage, the desperate, urgent desire to protect what he loved— Ben recognizes the same in himself. Recognizes it, and knows how close he’d been to losing Rey to his own murderous impulses.

“Did he really turn back to the Light? At the end.”

“Ben, I’ve talked about it so much in those simple terms, and it took me years to really understand my father’s conflict. When I confronted him, I was younger than you. I was still a boy myself in many ways,” Luke looks off into the limitless gray horizon, the burden of his destiny still hanging on him like a shroud of chains. “The Jedi and the Sith have always talked about turning. It’s not about being on one side or the other. It’s about where you’re headed. Did my father reject the Emperor’s teachings? Yes. For a moment. But it was the right moment.”

He can see it as Luke looks up at him. Luke, a young man, his face clean shaven, his sandy hair swept aside. Dressed all in black, as though he mourned for someone he’d never known. Vader, a tower of metal and plastene, a clotted wound in the Force, bleeding decades of anger and hatred. And he senses what Luke sensed. Something so familiar.

The spark. A tiny, flickering light deep within the soul of Anakin Skywalker. Ben sees the child, crouching in the inky blackness. He is nine or ten. Blond hair. White and cream colored clothing— like Rey’s when she lived on Jakku. His face is sad and frightened, and his eyes betray the loss and sadness of a hundred lifetimes. He clings to the ember, racked with shivers, and cannot even bring himself to weep. There are no more tears that can be shed.

I feel the good in you. Let go of your hate.

And the shadow conceals the desert boy from view, as Vader’s black storm cloud cloak folds in around him like a predator protecting its young.

It is... too late for me... son.

Ben shudders away from the cold shroud of Vader’s presence. He looks to Luke, and then around at the stark, endless horizon.

“What happens now?”

“What do you want to happen?” Luke asks, standing.

“I’ve never had anything I’ve wanted,” Ben responds. “Not really.”

Luke slowly closes the distance between them, holding his gaze, his eyes deep with knowledge and understanding.

“She loves you.”

Even though it’s something he knows, something so fundamental and essential to his reckoning of who he is, hearing Luke say it takes him aback. And he realizes that he never truly believed Rey loved him. Not as he is now. Or as he was.

“She loves someone who I might have been,” Ben says, shaking his head, the grief of it too raw and near for him to fully grasp. “Someone who won’t ever be.”

“No,” Luke says, and the emphatic way he pronounces it shakes Ben to his core. “Loving someone for who they could be— for what they have the potential to become— is hope. And hope is the purest form of love.”

Luke’s gaze cuts deep into him, and he thinks of the ember shielded from the dark by young Anakin. Ben thinks of the blast of light that released from his own spirit when he bled the crystal in the cargo hold of the Finalizer. He remembers its power. And he knows now where he’s felt it before. The blinding light at the heart of the bond. Within the bloom of warmth, that blaze of starfire. A light that cannot be doused or diminished.

Hope.

“It’s a rare gift,” Luke continues. “And one not lightly given.”

Ben can see her. She’s holding him in her arms. She won’t let go of his body. He can feel her despair, and her acceptance of the finality of what is to be.

“It’s too late now.”

Luke takes another step toward him. He’s only a pace away now.

“It’s never too late.”

“How did you do it?” Ben asks, reaching for some way to understand. To accept. “How did you save your father?”

“I didn’t save him. He saved himself. I only reminded him that he could.”

Ben sees it through Luke’s eyes. The Emperor standing over him, his cruel yellow eyes thrilling in the pain he’s able to inflict, cords of lighting streaming from his fingertips, lashing Luke with violent blasts. Only now, at the end, do you understand. Gray teeth bared in a twisted, corpse-like scowl. And Vader. Standing there. Watching.

Father! Please!

And Ben feels Anakin Skywalker emerge from behind the mask as he regards the monster at his side. This man. My tormentor. My jailer. My master. He asked for my freedom, and I gave it. He asked for my name and my life as I’d known it, and I gave those, too. He will not have my son.

Ben sees Luke’s memory. Of a dark throne room. Of pain and electric smoke. Of sudden shock as Anakin Skywalker, imprisoned in the shell of Darth Vader, lifts the ghoul at his side into the air, summoning the last strength he has in his powerful frame, heaving the Emperor into the reactor shaft as lethal ropes of lightning snap through his metal body.

Ben steps back, shaken.

“B— but, how— how can I—“

“You already have,” Luke says, reaching up to touch Ben’s face. Ben can’t stop the tears, if there really are tears in this place, from spilling down his cheeks, and he shakes his head.

“After what I’ve done—“

“Reach out with your feelings. What do they tell you?”

Ben looks into his uncle’s sad, hopeful eyes. And he does reach out. And he feels it. His mother. Not the memory of her, but her. Bright and shimmering in the Force. And his father, joined with her there, his strength and love blended in with hers as they exist still, together, beyond the reach of pain or sorrow.

He meets Luke’s eyes, and he breaks. Whatever enmity he felt for his uncle strips away, and all he can feel now is a deep and lasting gratitude.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Luke says, stepping back from him and letting his hand drop to his side. “This is the lesson. My last lesson. The same one I tried to show you here. Those you’ve loved, and those who’ve loved you, they’re never really gone. They’ll always be with you. Just as I’ll always be with you. And your father will always be with you. And your mother will always be with you.”

Luke motions to the horizon, stepping back again. Ben can sense this place starting to bleed away into the Force around them.

“The past doesn’t ever die. Just as the future never actually is. What lies between the two is hope. And, hope, Ben, is accepting that you can’t make the future what you want. And recognizing that fear will drive you to destroy what you love even as you try to save it,” Luke says, shimmering with flashes of blue and white as he and the apparition of Crait blink away. “You have to trust. You have to trust enough to let go.”

And he does. He lets go of his hate. And the anger that fueled so much of his misery washes away like streaks from a windowpane. He feels the brilliant light of his mother’s love, and the earnest fierceness of his father’s. He feels Luke’s love, too: yielding, distant, but resolute and unchanging.

He finally understands. And accepts. And knows. The future spreads out before him in limitless causeways and paths, and he finally sees that he can’t make any one of them come to be. He has to walk a path, and let the future come as it will. He sees now, at last, that the only thing that can destroy the future that he wants is his own fear, his own inability to let be what will be, to try to take control and bend destiny to his command. He has to let go of that fear. He has to hope.

And as he is enveloped in the warmth and light of Rey’s love for him, he closes his eyes, and takes the first step forward on a new path, trusting to the Force that it will guide him home.

***

She’s still holding to him, even as his body is limp and lifeless. She clings to him so tightly it’s as though she hopes the ache of emptiness in her will somehow be comforted by press of his skin against hers.

Even as he’s gone. Even as he’ll never return.

The sobs coming from her now are so broken and violent that she doesn’t know how she’ll ever be able to breathe again. And part of her wants to stay here with him, to sink into death, to go to the darkness to find him, because if this is what living will be, she doesn’t know how she can do it.

Perhaps that’s why, when the cold in her starts to blaze with warmth, she thinks for a moment that she has actually died. That she willed herself into the Force. That she could not go on alone.

But it’s not death. And it’s not comfort. It’s the familiar warmth of the bond. And she can see it again, the thread. It’s shining so brilliantly, it overcomes everything else around it. And confusion gives way to disbelief as she feels Ben take in a sharp breath and his hands close around her arms as though he’s been drowning and somehow reached the shore.

She pulls back to see him staring up at her, his eyes filled with wonder and gratitude, and she can’t stop the tears from flowing as her heart overflows, spellbound with a joy so pure and unencumbered that she doesn’t care at all how any of this is possible.

His arms are closing around her as he sits up and their eyes are locked in the shared awe of this new embrace. The warmth and fire shared between them blazes outward and crashes back in, the Force blooming and collapsing in rushes, a crackling blend of ecstatic energies all around them.

She sees it in his eyes, and she knows he sees it, too. The future she showed him returns in a thousand different paths, brilliant and shining with color, a slowly tilting prism of perfect crystal. For the first time since she’s known him, Ben Solo’s face is filled with hope, and as she kisses him, the Force swirls and keens around them in a balance of shadow and light so strong it carries their spirits aloft as though they’d never been parted at all.

They kiss, and kiss again, and hold each other, parting only in brief instances, their names on each other’s breaths as they embrace in the soft white glow of the kyber heart, finally together in the Light.

[humanistauno]

A Journal by: Paola Marie Zuniga

December 16, 2019

A community blast!

Exactly 5:45 AM, I jumped out of my bed and prepared myself up. Today’s the day for our community visitation and survey. I will not deny that I kinda got excited with the thought of going out for a community immersion in a place I have never been visited.

All set! We had so much fun (or maybe only me) riding the trike to Brgy. Paraiso’s Sitio Salkan. I loved how the trike go up and down because of the rocky kind of road there – although, a part of me is kinda worried since I sat at the back part and I am undeniably heavy so, I was thinking about our tricycle getting stuck because of me. I was so excited about the ‘hiking part’ but it all disappeared when I felt my body getting heavier than it was used to be. I got tired easily and I can only think of two reasons why did that thing happened; first, because of how high the place is and second, that was the day I had my exercise ever since December started.

Everything went well, fortunately. We had interviewed 3 participants from different houses and we also had a chance to stay up on a hill and watch those eye-warming trees surrounding the whole place. We even took our lunch there and of course did some photoshoots. That is something we cannot forget, to be honest. Oh well, so much for this day. I am kinda tired with all the hiking and walking and running and stuffs and now, your little girl here needs her sleep. Ciao!

December 18, 2019

“Happy another-step-in-reaching-death Day slash legality day”

To be very honest, I wanted not to open my eyes. I mean, I know it’s my birthday and I have to be thankful for this another year being added but, who would like to celebrate their birthday without their mother? But oh well, my body betrayed me and it moved on its own plus I still need to open the boutique and do kinds of stuff there.

Tons of ‘Happy birthdays’ and such were received both personally and In social media. I am thankful for those people because I felt special with their birthday greetings and all. It made me soft and think, maybe it’s not that bad to celebrate my birthday after all, even with the absence of my mother. Also, speaking of which, my mom called me and I tried not to cry. I joked around while she cried on the other line. Ah, it hurts to hear your mom cry aye?

To be very honest, I cried while I was in the boutique – cleaning and arranging dresses. This was supposed to be a very happy and special day since I just turned 18 and here I am, doing work and just spend the entire day watching anime. Nothing special, really.

Ps: my churchmates and my tita prepared foods at the church. It lifted my spirit a little and I do appreciate the effort.

December 20, 2019

“Church thanksgiving and Christmas party!”

So far, this is the most awaited day for me. I am just ready to receive gifts and stuff from peeps in the church. Also, I am kinda excited about the prepared foods. The party started with a blast! We had the victory got talent and it was epic I must say! Every participant did a very good job and that includes my sister and two cousins who won first place in the said event.

After that segment, the most awaited part had arrived and it was EATING TIME! I only ate meat at that time and avoided rice hehe – I did not even touch the cake but then I kept on eating the fried chicken. I honestly can not stop myself at that time since I was craving for that and I know we need to feed up that craving and be happy for the rest of our lives with the help of these foods!

Receiving gifts for me is the highlight of the party- I received gifts from my Ates and Kuyas and also from my Ninongs and Ninangs. So for those who posted on Facebook about their godparents who were missing in action, I really can’t relate to your posts as of the moment (ooh, arrogance at its finest oho).

It was a great night actually, although, after the party, we went straight to the wake of my grandmother who passed away just right before my birthday. We stayed up late until 4 AM just to play lucky 9 and Bingo. I am kinda new to the card game (Lucky 9) and don’t even know a single thing so my cousin had to teach and guide me from time to time just for me to participate in the game. It was fun actually.

December 24, 2019

“A Happy Christmas”

We started this day with a dawn service in our church which for me is the best thing to do. I mean, it would be nice to start your day worshipping and praying to our creator. After the service, we had hot Choco and suman prepared by our pastor and we had fellowship with our co-members in church.

The moment we reached home from church, I found myself sleeping on my bed again. I woke up at 3PM actually and I took a bath immediately – after hours of sleeping and enjoying the dream I was having, back to the same routine again. Do some household chores then indulged myself to anime.

As the darkness finally took over, we started to become busy preparing food for the Christmas Eve. We don’t have much food for the celebration but being together, eating in one table is so much better than having lots of food but there’s no one to talk too. I kind of like being alone but I love being with my family.

Our house was filled with my music and shouts from my cousins the moment the clock struck 12. Exchanging of ‘Merry Christmas’ were heard inside our house as the 8 of us gathered around the table. We prayed and did a video call with my mom who was celebrating Christmas alone in her dorm in Cebu. ‘Twas sad honestly, seeing your mom on the screen of your phone, alone, while you’re with the rest of the family, eating together. I kind of felt sorry that she had to go somewhere far from us just for the sake of our future. But hey! It’s Christmas, we obviously does not want to break the joy we were having in our hearts, and so, we still laughed and joked around as we have our small celebration.

It was indeed, a happy Christmas.

December 29. 2019

“Mini reunion”

Every family gathering, I have always felt uninvited. Maybe because our family was known as one of the most problematic among the others and that made me feel uncomfortable every occasion.

Early in the morning as we prepare ourselves for church, my tita told me that we will be attending the reunion after church. At first, I said I am not going to show up in that gathering because I am pretty sure I will be left out, yeah – I am that negative. But after our church service, my cousins did convince me to attend the said reunion and even blackmailed me and left me no choice but attend the reunion.

The world seemed so dark to me at that time, sitting on the corner, frowning while I watch my titas and titos laugh and do crazy stuffs. At first, I really am not in the mood but when they called us out because we are about to eat, my mood changed a bit. Food can really change the world, yes. Well, I ate a lot. One thing I liked when we have gatherings is that the food being prepared are way too delicious that it made me forget how grumpy I am earlier. And since the food enlightened me up – after eating, I started to mingle with my younger cousins, they would kiss me in the cheek then we’ll sing along at the karaoke. It made me think that it wasn’t really a bad idea joining this mini reunion. The kids had their parlor games which was facilitated by me (lol) and it made me realize, kids can really wash away those negative cells you have in your body.

Guilt was slowly eating me at that time. How can I enjoy listening to their funny talks and even enjoy the presence of the kids where in the first place I was so negative about this gathering and even talked bad things about them inside my head. But here’s what I had realized like really.. I may talk bad about them but now, I will try my best to repay the goodness they were showing which I had failed to recognize through hard work in school and make them proud. Somehow, I want to be a good relative for them despite of how bad my thoughts about them are.

January 1, 2020

“2020”

To be honest, I did not started 2020 with a ‘good morning world’ since I did not sleep last night and I spent the whole night talking over the phone with my friend who was living in Makati. We talked about stuffs like our favorite anime series and of course, our cringey new year’s resolutions.

The whole first day of 2020 was not spent wisely. Body was still glued on the bed, eyes were still darted on the screen of the laptop. Productivity was nowhere to be found. I am pretty sure everyone wanted to be productive in the first day of 2020 but look who’s lazing around and let the whole world go crazy on its own as long as she get to finish her favorite anime, it’s me your girl.

6:15PM in the evening, we went to church for our midweek service. It’s kind of cool to start up 2020 with God’s words yeah? The whole preach was about reminders and of course it gave blessing to every listeners. Who wouldn’t be blessed by his words right?

The first day of 2020 ended up semi-good and semi-not. Semi-good because we went to church and heard wonderful messages and reminders and semi-not because I was not productive, I only fed up my anime desires and finished a whole series. Ugh.

January 3, 2020

“A man in green”

When boredom hits you, you sure do things just to make yourself busy and entertained. As for me, I’m clinging up unto omegle at times like that and I wasn’t really expecting to meet someone who just became my crush in just a snap.

So okay, here it goes. Every time I do omegle, my interest were always ‘bnha’ ‘mha’ and ‘anime’ and so I started the chat and words such as ‘you both like anime’ had appeared. The stranger did messaged me first with a hello with plenty of letter Os and was followed by ‘M20’. When I receive replies like that, I always end the conversation right away because I think they were just some horny dudes trying to get some nudes from girls they met in omegle but at that time, since I was bored and all, I replied ‘F18’ and did not end the conversation. Betraying my own rules, yeah the power of boredom and curiosity.

And so the guy once again replied and asked me about my favorite anime series. I did answered him that I have a lot of favorites but I then told him my favorites among the favorites which are One Punch Man and Boku no hero Academia. I was really expecting for him to freak out and end the conversation since many peeps in the anime community doesn’t like both series for its plot and both series are overrated animes but this guy replied “OMG YES SAME” and was followed by “I LIKE DEKU” “WHO’S YOUR BEST BOI” and such which I find funny so I tag along and replied him with ALL CAPS.

The whole duration of our conversation was fun and all, until we decided to exchange our instagram accounts. And there I saw a green eyed human with green hair. He is a good looking man who like rats and is obsessed with my hero Academia. While me, just a rotten potato who assumed he was a horny guy who asks nudes from girls. It was really fun and all since we are both born-again Christians and we are also both musicians in our church, he play the electric guitar in their fellowship while I play the bass guitar.

We were really having fun fanboying and fangirling over the series until he replied a.. “Let’s get married”

PS: I said yes and we are now happily living as anime couple in instagram.

[darkflare-oc]

Demonic ambitions Part 4

Aaron stretched as he came outside in the morning. He had asked the employer he was working for to allow him to stay overnight on the guise that he wanted to be sure there wasn't anyone waiting until the party was over and the Centurion were gone to strike. It has been a while since he woke up and there was no sign of Margaret. He was beginning to think he may have been tricked.

“GOOOOOD MOOOOORNIIIIIIIIIIIIING!”

Aaron was caught by surprise from the sudden appearance of Margaret who looked at him with eyes closed and a smile on her face.

“Morning...” Aaron grumbled.

“Thank you for sticking around. Made it easier to track you down.” said Margaret

“At least, I was able to find a way. So...care to tell me about these demons?”

“I suppose I did promise. From what I know, this isn’t the first time those demons tried a pull like this. In fact, their last attempt goes as far back as decades ago. Obviously, they failed and they bide their time waiting for an opportune moment to strike.”

Margaret looked directly at Aaron. “If you ask me, i think they picked an even worse time to strike. Relationships have improved between the two. Which begs the question as to why even bother?”

“They’re making a statement.” said Aaron. “Launch an attack against a human city in the name of demon independence. Relationships better, but something like that could turn it shaky. Enough of these and suddenly we could be back to square one if left unchecked. ....wait, this city has it’s share of demons too.”

“They were willing to offer you an alliance with them, right? They’re looking to recruit others to their cause. I know more are willing to keep this peace between us, but if they show enough power, they might reconsider joining them as well.” said Margaret

“Nah, I doubt that. We ain't as weak willed like that. We share the human mentality of being pretty stubborn in our decisions as well. If anything, I think they’re really desperate. They know their dream is becoming hopeless every day and they’re desperate to turn things around.” said Aaron

Margaret smiled. “That’s very comforting. Perhaps we can finally leave these old ways behind for good.”

Aaron leaned closer to Margaret and whispered. “Don’t look back, but I think there are two girls tailing us. Let’s move somewhere more in the open and away from the civilians.”

Margaret tried to sense their tails, but they were mixed with the other people. She found it odd that she couldn't sense another demon’s presence, but shrugged it off. The two continued to walk along until reaching the outskirts. Upon confirming the area was clear and out of the way, the two quickly turned around.

They looked at a pair of twins, both wearing gothic lolita outfits, black long hair and red eyes.

“So, looks like you knew were following you for some time if you lead us here.” said one of them

“When you’re in my line of work for long, You learn to have eyes in the back of your head. So, what’s your reason? Just going to let you know I ain’t the kind to give autographs.” Said Aaron

“We just wanted to see for ourselves, the one who defeated Warlord. Pretty impressive, but that just made you a target for the rest of us.” said the same twin.

“Get in line with the others wanting a little revenge. I’ll just warn you that it only gets shorter because they stop breathing in the end.”

“Wolf...” said Margaret in a soft tone

“Now’s not the time to get distracted.”

“I know, but doesn't something seem off?”

“Off?”

“They’re demons and I should have been able to sense them. But now that I see directly...”

Margaret then spoke to the twins.

“Do you have a death wish? You know what the guy is capable of and here you are challenging him while the two of you are weakened.”

“You take one look at us and call us weak? That’s quite a bold statement.”

“I can sense your lifeforce and I can tell neither of you have it as strong as a normal healthy demon should have.”

“Gah! Well figures one would be so easily fooled. I can assure you that we’re not as frail as you think.”

Aaron stepped up. “All right. Don’t go crying if you get hurt. I don’t pull my punches.” Aaron cupped his hands and launched a large dark energy wave at them, the two easily jumping out of the way.

They looked at the direction the blast went.

“It’s such a shame you won’t lend your strength to your own kind. Especially since the humans can easily betray you at any time.”

“As I told your large friend before, I've been around long enough to know that I kinda prefer their company.”

“Even though they murder our own kind the moment they consider us a threat?”

“Hey, they have the right to self defense”

“As do we.”

Margaret remained silent and just looked at the group. She couldn’t help but note that only one of them talked while the other remained silent. It was an interesting observation, she wondered if it meant anything.

“Hey lady, you’re welcome to join this 2 on 2, you know.” said Aaron

“Huh....oh. I thought you could handle it on your own.”

“Oi, I think I would prefer somebody watching my....” Aaron was interrupted by a strike from one of the twins. Aaron turned to face the attacker only to find that she quickly moved out of range after the strike. “and they’re using hit and run tactics. Perfect....”

“Sorry about that. ^_^”

“What happened to having eyes in your back big guy?” said the twin.

“You just got lucky.” Aaron said as he proceeded to attack with some swift strikes. Surprisingly, despite his speed, the twin was able to dodge all the strikes easily.

“Huh...wait...” said Margaret as she noted the strikes. She also noted the other one beginning to move in to sneak attack Aaron again. “Big guy behind you!”

Aaron turned around just in time to see the other twin preparing to attack. All she could let out was a shocked expression before she was struck by a palm strike from Aaron. At the same time, Margaret noted a bit of a blur on the other twin.

“Rin! You’ll pay for that one!” She leaped over Aaron and went straight for Margaret. Margaret however didn't show any concern at all and remained still. Once Rin’s twin got close she prepared to strike with her claws only to suddenly stop right in front of Margaret

“What’s wrong? Too scared to defend yourself?”

Margaret simply looked over to Rin, who had recovered from the blow. She looked back at Margaret for a moment before revealing a horrified expression.

“She’s scared?” said Aaron having trouble making sense of what was going on.

Suddenly, Margaret appeared behind Rin and proceeded to restrain her.

“H-hey! LET HER GO! YOUR FIGHT’S WITH ME!”

“Nice trick. I’m familiar with it myself, but I must admit you pull it off much better than I do. Unfortunately, I’m afraid your non-existent sister isn't going to fool us anymore.”

Rin’s twin suddenly faded away. Margaret could sense Rin with a stronger lifeforce now more in line with a healthy demon. Then Rin bit Margaret to try and break free. Though Margaret flinched, she kept a strong grip on her. “Dammit, hey big guy, you can probably keep a hold on her better.”

“Oh, I thought you could handle it alone.” said Aaron with a sly smile.

“Oh, you cheeky bastard. Ok fine, I admit I deserved that one.”

Rin continued to struggle to escape free. Realizing that Margaret’s grip was too strong and Aaron’s would most likely be even stronger, she stopped struggling and accepted her fate.

“I’m sorry, Lin. I couldn’t avenge you...” said Rin as she began to tear up.

“Whoa whoa. now hold up. You really should stop with this death wish thing. First you attack us despite being obviously outclassed and now you just assume we’re going to kill you?” said Margaret

“I mean, it’s a fair assumption to make given the circumstances.” said Aaron

“Not helping.”

Aaron just shrugged “Just saying. Look...Rin was it? You got your reasons to be angry at the humans, but this....taking the side of those extremists....it won’t make things better. You know what. I got a place we can go. We can decide what to do with her there.”

Margaret nodded. “Lead the way, big guy.” She turned to Rin. “Please be a good girl and follow along. We promise not to harm you, but you have to promise not to do anything stupid yourself, ok?”

Though still distrusting, Rin gave a slight nod having already submitted herself to them.