#So you guys get why this is Spectre AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caffeinated-cryptid · 4 years

Text

ashes, ashes.

10.8k | AO3 link | tags/tws: intrulogical, serial killer/deity of death au, lots of death (murder, mentions of a previous suicide attempt, and brief descriptions of animal death), injury, violence, swearing, morally grey characters, crime.

““You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” Logan blurted out with a start, eyes wide and looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” Logan asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.””

(aka: remus chases death like it's his favourite pastime, since it means he gets to see logan again. understandably, logan has some objections to this.)

--------------

Case 1: the man in the alley.

The first time Remus and Logan met, it was more or less a complete accident.

As a part-time warehouse operative slash freelance artist, Remus had a lot of free time between jobs, and one of the things he enjoyed doing most while waiting for his next gig to come around was spray-painting obscene images into the side of alleys.

His latest project was a 7-foot tall purple unicorn with generous proportions. Pretty tasteful by his standards, all things considered.

If nothing else, the piece of work would give passers-by a topic of conversation, and that was always something Remus aimed to inspire with his art. These topics, however, often happened to be the ‘why’ variety. Most commonly, the old classic (and his personal favourite): ‘why are you like this?’.

Regrettably, the evening passed pretty quickly with no curious pedestrians passing by his alley and starting up such a conversation. By the time Remus finished, it was past midnight and by now the only people around were the regular nightlife-- primarily the local college kids who had recently come home and were enjoying their break from classes, and adults like himself who were trying to chase away their loneliness with some other kind of high.

...Woo, and that’s enough depressing thoughts for tonight. Remus declared to himself. After all, he had a new piece to admire! Stepping back, he spent a moment taking in the completed artwork by the light of his phone’s torch before deciding it was as perfect as it could get. He’d come back later and get a picture during the daytime to show off to his friends, so for now he begun preparing to leave by packing his paint cans into his backpack.

It was when he had collected the last can of magenta from the ground that he felt something grab the back of his coat hood. Remus had no time to process the fact that someone had snuck into the alleyway before he was shoved against the same wall he'd painted his mural on, coming face-to-face with a hooded man waving a rather pathetic-looking pocket knife at him.

“Give me your money. Now.” The man demanded.

Remus blinked in delayed surprise. Usually he was the one being the creep in the alleyway. He had never expected to come across an actual creep. Heck, this situation felt like it was pulled straight out of an old PSA with how stereotypical it was.

“What?” He blurted out unthinkingly, because of that exact train of thought.

“You heard me! I want you to get your wallet and hand over everything you’ve got.”

What an unfortunate victim this man has chosen.

“You think I have any money to my name? I’m practically the starving artist every parent warns their kid about becoming.” Remus said with a huff of amusement.

“Don’t try to bullshit me!” The hand clutching the front of his coat tugged him forward before violently slamming him back against the bricks. The back of Remus’ head ricochetted off them roughly with the sudden movement, and the small grin he had been wearing quickly faded with flash of pain and the realization he may actually be in trouble.

“I saw the paint you’ve got in your bag,” The man continued over his dawning concern. “Somebody who’s broke wouldn’t have all that.”

Remus’ thoughts halted for a second. His bag…! He knew the paint can he was holding onto for dear life wouldn’t do much in the way of self-defense given that it was practically empty, but a whole bag of them? Hitting this guy with that much weight would make him think twice about trying to stab him, at least.

“Okay, okay. You got me, I’m rich as hell. Just let me get it, alright? My wallet's in there.”

The man gave him a skeptical look, but stepped back slightly, continuing to hold the weapon in his direction. “I know how to throw knives. Try to run and you’ll have a hole in your back quicker than an onset stroke.”

Yikes, and Remus thought he was bad at metaphors. He didn’t even need Virgil here to tell him that that made no sense. Still, he grinned placatingly. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye: I won’t run.”

Finally, bad-metaphor guy let down his guard and allowed Remus to side-step around him. He walked a few paces towards where he dropped his backpack in his initial shock, putting the magenta spray in before he picked it up by the straps. True to his word, he didn't run; instead he swung around on his heel, slamming the full force of his hardback sketchbooks and cans of spray paint into the face of the hooded man.

He instantly dropped his knife, falling backwards and clutching his nose as blood erupted from it. Under the low-lighting of the street lamp, Remus was transfixed for a second, feeling like he was in one of those gritty r-rated movies he watched with his babysitter as a kid. The moment was ruined when he realized that 1) the man was approaching again very quickly, and 2) he couldn’t get the momentum quick enough to swing his bag around and hit him a second time.

Before he knew it, Remus had accidentally let go of the makeshift weapon when he was tackled to the ground, wind completely knocked out of him as the two of them collided against cobblestone moistened with rain.

“You fucking bastard.” The guy hissed furiously. His voice was nasally now that his nose was crooked and broken-looking, and Remus almost wanted to poke fun of him for it until he felt two hands wrap around his throat and start to choke him. “‘Could’ve just made things easy, but now you’re gonna die with all the other trash.”

Why? Remus wanted to ask. Over the 7 dollars and 15 cents he had?

But as he tried to tear away the vice grip on his neck, he couldn’t find the voice to talk back, even though the seriousness of the situation was hitting him like a freight train. Maybe it was his own fault for escalating things instead of playing along. Go figure, he had overestimated his own abilities after years being the off-putting one; the person others thought they had to watch over their shoulder for. Either that, or maybe it was the fact that his wallet carried more sentimental value with it than monetary. It was small and made of orange ducktape, but it carried so many things that Remus wanted to protect; a photo of his family, one of Virgil's guitar picks, the ticket to the last Tenacious D he went to, and of course, the receipt for his first condom purchase.

His mind flashed to his friends and family, and he wondered how they’d feel about this; him dying because of some dumb robber in a dumb alleyway because he was painting his dumb artwork. That was hardly the kind of death one could look back on and regard with pride (Hell if it wasn't funny to imagine how everyone will react to the news, though). But as he focused on the face above him, he realized with some panic that the grip wasn’t loosening, even as he could feel his lungs burn and a near-soothing feeling telling him to just let go.

As a final act of desperation to save himself from becoming a wholly embarrassing funeral eulogy instead of having a rockstar’s death in his 40s like he always imagined for himself, he patted the ground frantically, looking for a loose rock or something to stop this with. That’s when he felt it; the slightly warm plastic handle of the knife the guy had been holding. Remus’ heart pounded as he realized what he needed to do, and he barely even considered the repercussions of the action before he was plunging the knife into the side of the guy’s neck.

Finally, the grip around his throat loosened as the guy gasped, his expression flickering back and forth between anger and shock. Remus ripped the knife away, inhaling air greedily when the sudden action caused the man to loosen his grip and move off of him, trying to cover the stab wound with his hands and failing.

Remus quickly scrambled back and pulled himself up the wall, watching and waiting for the guy to fall still. He did, after what felt like a few minutes, and Remus didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He’d just killed a man. It was self-defence, but still… even the morbid thoughts he had over the years couldn't have prepared him for what it would have actually felt like to go through with any of it.

In that moment of pause, his injuries caught up with him as both his head and neck begun to ache. He was so disoriented that he barely even noticed the third person standing in the alley until they spoke up.

“Well. I didn’t see that coming.”

Remus snapped his head towards the source of the voice, and immediately regretted it when the hasty motion made him dizzy. The only reason he didn’t immediately jump into fight mode was because of the unusually casual way the voice had spoken. Beyond that, the figure he saw standing a short distance away didn’t really… look like a regular person. Beyond the odd formal clothing that had no discernable modern style to it and the shock of white hair that could only be achieved with hella bleach, his skin was a cool grey like a cadaver and he had a ghostly appearance to him; transparent and misty around the edges.

Definitely not the sort of thing Remus expected to see, but he was always one to accommodate the unexpected.

“...You and me both. My only goal for today was to draw unicorn porn.” Remus replied lightly, once he decided it wouldn't hurt to entertain whatever was currently happening.

The figure turned, startling at the sight of Remus staring directly at him.

“You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” He blurted out with wide eyes, looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” The man (deity???) asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.”

"I can't believe my own brain is kinkshaming me." Remus whined, slipping down slightly as the worn-down soles of his boots lost their grip on the concrete for a second.

Death frowned, until a metaphorical lightbulb lit over his head. "Ah- you think you're hallucinating. Well, that's not an unfair assumption. Keep believing it, by all means."

"That doesn't sound like something a hallucination would say." Remus pointed out.

"Well then, I'll gladly prove my non-existence by disappearing." Death said as he took a step towards the body.

"Wait!" Remus called before he could figure out why. The ghostly figure stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Remus’ composure slipped as his eyes darted between the body and Death. "I...I need to know that this is real. That I'm not making this up. This feels like something I'd dream, but…"

His hand clenched around the knife, feeling the squelch of blood and the tremor of his hand. Despite the mixed signals he was currently getting on the state of his sanity, it felt solid and real, and Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that.

"Fuck. Please tell me! Am I being as messed up as usual or did I really just kill someone?"

Death’s eyes softened. "You did. This is real."

"Well shit. Okay…" Remus looked back at the body with a deep resignation. He wondered if he should do something about that. Probably not; that would look even more incriminating.

"...If it makes you feel better, he has hurt people in situations like this before, and completely unnecessarily; his only motive was to achieve a rush.”

That did make Remus feel better, actually.

"Good. I’m glad I killed a piece of shit and not someone down on their luck." Remus sighed, eyeing the spectral figure. "Speaking of, if this is real, then I guess that means you are too right?"

Any sympathy on Death's place quickly faded as he was caught out. "Erm-"

"It's cool." Remus leaned his head back again. "Talking to a cute ghost man? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for me."

Actually, this was the furthest thing from a typical Thursday night for Remus, but he didn’t want to admit that to the cute ghost man and risk looking uncool.

"You shouldn't get acquainted with it. Seeing me is hardly a good thing." Death replied, though his cheeks were distinctly a darker grey.

"Aww- don't sell yourself short. I love your work!" Remus waved away vaguely. He always had a strange relationship with death in a way that others didn’t; always the first to laugh at a funeral or smile instead of grieve. That was probably why he felt so comfortable right now. “Besides, we’ll all be food for the dirt and worms eventually, anyway. Why get uncomfortable with it?"

Death met his eyes again, seeming slightly more firm. “Perish those thoughts, it's hardly your time yet."

Remus pouted. "It's still inevitable, though. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I didn’t die today and got to meet you instead, but what’s so bad about something that’s going to happen either way?”

“I’m starting to think I was right by judging your attitude as a red flag.” Death muttered.

“But I'm right aren't I?” Remus prodded.

“Indeed.” Death begrudgingly conceded. “And do you know just how inevitable it is? Approximately 2 people die per second; 106 per minute. There have been 6435 events of armed conflict in the past year alone, and over 690 million people who are undernourished as we speak. Beyond that, there are even more people losing their lives to case-by-case natural events and incidents. So if you’d be so kind, do not be so eager to create more work for me.”

Remus absorbed that information, tilting his head. “Despite all that, you’re still here?”

“...I am.” Death agreed after a heavy pause, in the same manner most would admit their own defeat. “I’ll admit, I’m not used to… talking so much. It’s an unusual feeling, but it’s been pleasant, I suppose.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus laughed. “That’s gotta be saying something.”

Death rolled his eyes. “My name is Logan, not Death.”

“Huh. I’m Remus.” Remus replied, a little baffled. He didn’t expect a deity to have such a normal name.

“Remus ‘Tsukio’ Kaneshiro, I already know of you. We’ve met before.”

Remus’ bafflement only grew. “We have? I think I’d remember meeting someone like you.”

“You wouldn't; you were unconscious. It was after you overdosed on cold medicine. Thankfully your parents got you to the hospital on time before I could do my job, but I remember it being a close call.” Logan looked at him knowingly.

“...Oh.” Remus laughed nervously. He definitely remembered that. Finding out you could overdose on a lot of common household items was pretty dangerous for him to learn as a teenager, and he’d never forget how furious his entire family was with him for being so reckless. He never knew how to tell them that it wasn’t quite the accident they assumed it to be (needless to say, his adolescent years were pretty shitty to him, being the outsider in this town in more ways than one). Thankfully, the taste of cold medicine had become too repulsive for him to try anything like that again.

“...I am glad you’re alright. It’s always unfortunate when a life ends too soon.”

“Well…thanks. This has been pretty trippy, so I’m glad I met you too, Logan.”

Logan hummed and looked towards the end on the alleyway. “By the way, you should think about leaving soon. There’s a group of people approaching us.”

Shit, Remus had almost forgotten that he had just committed a crime. Given how awful this scene looked, there was a big chance he’d get thrown into jail for this if he got caught. But at the same time, he was almost hesitant to leave behind the spectre that had enchanted his heart within a few minutes, even if his mind was still trying to catch up with the overload of information.

“Why would you help me?” He asked quickly and somewhat suspiciously.

Just as Logan finished his business with the body, he looked at him over his shoulder with an almost sly expression. “You seem interesting, Remus. I’d hate for you to lose your life over someone so unworthy of one.”

And with that, Logan disappeared like a cloud of fog. Remus stood there transfixed, until he remembered Logan’s warnings and snatched up his bag, shoving the knife into his pocket and dashing into the night.

--------------

Case 2: the man who couldn't leave well enough alone.

The next time Remus and Logan met, it was slightly less of an accident, but fuck if the guy didn’t deserve it.

When Remus got home after the night he first saw Logan, he was more grateful than ever that he lived in such a run-down part of town. There were barely any security cameras to look out for, let alone people who were willing to be out during the early hours of the morning.

He was able to slip into his apartment complex unseen, avoiding his early-bird roommate long enough to wash away his crimes in the shower.

After that, he fell into his bed, completely unable to process everything that had just happened. So instead he fell asleep and left the deep thinking to his future self.

As expected, he needed plenty of time to collect his thoughts. First of all, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing because after weeks and months of taking it as easy as possible, he hadn’t seen anything else as strange as a personification of death named Logan. Logan...what kind of name even was that? It felt like the name of a teacher, not something that should be as grim and macabre as Remus himself.

But that was the other thing; Remus couldn’t get the thought of Logan out of his head. He was like the angel who had come down to bless him in a moment of weakness, saving him from further misfortune. He knew he had little to no chance of seeing their deity again, but that didn’t stop him from plaguing his mind constantly.

Remus figured the best chance he’d probably get at seeing Logan again was to become involved with death once more. His mind immediately jumped to animals, the easiest targets; he pictured slipping into a farm late at night and slitting the throat of one of the sheep, going to a pet store and buying a hamster for the night before ‘accidentally’ leaving it in a box to suffocate, picking up a stray from the street and snapping its neck quickly. But just as soon as those thoughts came to him, he waved them away with a grimace. He wouldn’t be able to go through with any of that, even for Logan.

People had always talked about him like he was a serial killer in training. They would keep a wary eye when he picked up sharp objects and ask his brother if Remus had ever hurt one of their pets as kids, as if because he had unconventional ideas, he was a complete sadist towards the innocent. (And yes, perhaps he did have thoughts of that nature too, but they’d always fill him with sickness because he fucking loved the pet dogs they had as kids, damn it). In any case, he knew that going through with those ideas would only be proving those people right, that he was a dangerous individual who’d murder an innocent creature just for someone his brain maybe made up.

...Perhaps he was losing his mind after all. What was he doing, plotting out the best way to see Death? If anyone else could hear his thoughts, they’d think him half-mad or suicidal. It seemed like the best thing so do was to try to push this out of his mind, so eventually, that's what he did. He wasn’t so good at that usually; his mouth ran a mile a minute and the people who knew him would often say that his brain-mouth filter was non-existent. But this felt like something he’d like to keep for himself, especially when news of the murder made it onto the local news, presumed to be the outcome of ‘gang activity’ simply because the victim was successful and had a loving family and what else could explain this?

He decided to not think about making plans anymore, and he only thought about Logan when his mind was otherwise unoccupied. It stayed that way until the very next week when he found out about the situation with his roommate’s ex.

Remus didn’t have many people in the world who were willing to put up with him, but the one’s that did, he cherished dearly. So when Nadia, the woman he’d describe as belonging among the Valkyries (if only she could get past her deal of not wanting to hurt a fly), came to him looking uncharacteristically shaken and upset, Remus felt something in him snap.

She told Remus about how her ex-boyfriend was following her to her workplace and making threats on her life. He’d even begun showing up outside their apartment late at night in an attempt at intimidation, and that detail alone pissed him off considering he’d been too in his head to even notice.

“All because I decided I deserved better.” Nadia told him tearily. She was so strong usually, both physically and emotionally, so seeing her so close to crying felt like a punch to the gut. “I just want for him to be gone… But James would probably kill me before I could even file a restraining order.”

“What if he was gone?” Remus blurted out. “Hypothetically.”

Nadia blinked at him, wiping a stray tear. “Honestly? I think the world would be a better place. But that’s never going to happen.”

Remus nodded. “Right. Of course. Do you still have his number, by any chance?”

Remus’ plan was simple: Nadia would call her ex and ask him to come over to ‘reconcile’, and when he did, Remus would confront him. Scare him enough to stay away for good. He was pretty great at being intimidating when he wanted to that the both of them assumed it would work out.

Well, James came as planned. Their apartment complex had one massive security flaw in that anyone could get in without keys or permission, so the only clue Remus got that James was coming was the sound of footsteps bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. Remus stood upright and waited, until he saw the top of James’ head slowly ascending up the stairs, pausing on the second-top step.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” James scoffed disbelievingly as Remus moved in front of him. “Did Nadia seriously send out the guard dog? What? Suddenly too afraid to talk for herself?”

Remus considered barking at him in response, but considering how James was way above the common creep in terms of persistence, he crossed his arms instead and glared steadily.

“Hell yeah she did. You should know why, given how much of a low-life asshole you’ve been acting all week. When are you going to give up the big guy act, huh? Curley called and he wants his complex back.”

James, in all of his 5-foot-no-thoughts glory, only squinted as the insult went over his head.

“...I knew I never fuckin’ liked you. Don’t get involved in our relationship, you little freak.” James tried to pass him, and Remus quickly blocked him, taking out the knife he’d stolen months ago.

“Take another step and this is going in your goddamn eye.” Remus raised his voice, confident that most of their neighbours were already out at work. “You’re not going near Nadia ever again, do you hear me?”

“Or what?! What’ll you do, Kaneshiro? Stab me? Put the toothpick away and step aside, for god’s sake. This is embarrassing, even for you.”

The two of them stood in a standstill, staring each other down as the echo from James’ exclamation faded out.

“...Fine.” Remus said finally. He slipped the knife back into his pocket, and James smirked smugly until Remus grabbed the front of his shirt instead. “It’ll be more fun to do this, anyway.”

With that he shoved James backwards, who quickly lost his footing and fell down the long and narrow flight of stairs. He tumbled for few moments, hitting each step, until he landed on the ground floor with a distant thump.

Remus stared after him, preparing for James to get up and start making a scene like he always did when he didn’t get his way. He didn’t.

Frowning, Remus descended the stairs, and as he drew closer to the slumped-over body, he noticed the puddle of blood around James’ head and the odd way he’d landed.

“Damn.” Remus commented under his breath. “Nadia’s going to kill me.”

He heard a sigh somewhere ahead of him, and fearing someone had walked in on his compromising position, Remus quickly glanced up, excuse at the ready.

“It was an accident-!” He exclaimed, before he realized it was Logan standing there, looking between James and Remus with a pinched expression.

“I know you pushed him, Remus. That’s not exactly what the law would define as an ‘accident’.”

For a second, Remus was starstruck (and opting to ignore the consequences of his actions). “You remember me.”

“Of course I do. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, though.”

That almost sounded like an accusation, so Remus held his hands up defensively. “Hey, in my defence he was just asking to die. The dude's a dick!”

Logan sighed. “Regardless, you shouldn't go around killing people. Sooner or later you’ll get caught.”

“Well, I’m 1 for 1 so far! But if you’d rather me not get in trouble… Have any tips on how to cover this?” Remus joked, winking.

Logan frowned at him before he truly considered it, looking around at the scene thoughtfully. “...Double check to make sure you left no evidence. Move quickly, before anybody stumbles across the scene. And if you have time, plant something which will make this look more like an accident-- for instance, a spill on the stairs.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting actual tips. Holy shit- okay.”

He went over to check the body, feeling his cheeks heat up. He absolutely should not be getting flustered over advice on how to cover up a murder, yet here he was.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be encouraging this.” Remus said jokingly as he smoothed out the creases on the front of James’ shirt. “Didn’t you say something about having more work to do? Who knows, you might be giving me a new hobby.”

Remus laughed. Logan didn’t. When he glanced up, the deity was frowning.

“Perhaps not. Forget what I said; I shouldn’t be interfering in matters like this. I shouldn’t even be appearing to you now.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s the matter? I thought you liked talking.” Remus hastily stood upright, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I- regardless of my personal feelings, I have a job to do. I can’t allow myself to become so partial over one human.” Logan replied, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows.

“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?!” Remus argued.

“You could cheat death, for starters.”

“You already know how I feel about that.” Remus whined. “I’ll off myself when the time comes, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Don’t-” Logan exclaimed, before he reigned himself back in. “Just. No. You’re supposed to go naturally. Neither you or I should interfere with that.”

Remus frowned. He wasn’t so sure he liked the thought of such a boring death. If anything, he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Otherwise, he’d be just another body no one would remember-- like loverboy over there.

“That means no more meetings like this.” Logan continued on.

“But what if I want to see you again?” Remus muttered. He looked across the room to Logan and found him wearing a similar downtrodden expression, until it grew serious.

“You’ll just have to deal with that, because we were never supposed to meet in the first place. I have a duty to fulfil and you have a life to live. Our paths are as parallel as can be.”

“This is bullshit, Logan.” Remus said, but he didn’t argue any further. Not when Logan walked around him to complete his business. Not when he prepared to leave, either.

“Don’t do this again.” Logan said finally, giving him a stern glare. “I mean it.”

--------------

Case 3: the woman in the streets.

The next time Remus and Logan met, Logan was starting to think Remus was making a habit of this after all.

In Remus’ defence, he totally wasn’t.

Logan’s parting words just wouldn’t leave his head. It was even worse than last time; the knowledge that he could kill anyone and get to see Logan again plagued him, and he found himself pulling away from his family and friends after the questioning from the police was over and done with.

They were all worried for him, but especially Nadia who knew exactly what he did and assumed it was because of the guilt that he was becoming uncharacteristically withdrawn. Although she was shocked at how things had escalated, she tried to apologize multiple times for letting Remus confront James, which he would always blow off. It wasn’t killing James that had gotten to him, not at all; in fact he was glad that prick was out of their hair. Rather, he grappled with the idea of never seeing Logan again, one of the few people who truly saw the worst sides of him and accepted them nonetheless.

He didn’t deal with it well.

The night of their next meeting, Remus was out drinking alone. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he didn’t want to justify why he wanted to get absolutely wasted to his friends, so being sad and lonely for one night it was.

He had stumbled out of the bar late at night, beginning his unsteady trek home since he had accidentally spent too much money and couldn’t afford an uber to drive him back. Stepping onto the street a couple blocks from his apartment, everything was quiet until the person ahead of him crossed the road, just as a car sped around the corner and knocked them over with an awful crunch.

Remus stood in shock. He looked after the swerving car to get the licence plate, but it was already too late and they had hit the gas upon noticing him. Swearing, he stumbled over to the person left in the road.

“Shit- Are you alright? Of course not, you need an ambulance.” He was struggling to unlock his phone when he noticed how still the person-- a frail old woman-- was. It didn’t even look like she was taking breaths, though it was hard to tell through his swimming vision and the thick coat she was wearing.

With unsteady fingers, Remus pressed against the pulsepoint on her neck, and felt the moment her heartbeat stopped.

“Oh…”

And then he turned on his heel and threw up.

Death wasn’t supposed to bother him like this. He had always been proud of his ability to frighten others with his dismissive attitude towards life’s eventualities. But this was different. He had just watched the murder of a complete stranger right before his eyes, and there wasn't even anything he could do. What the fuck?

He didn’t even feel better when the person he’d been longing to see all night appeared right in front of him, arms crossed and ready to give a lecture.

“Again, Remus?! What did I tell you?! No more murder!” Logan threw his hands up at the sight of Remus next to the body, that was until he noticed the cause of death and Remus’ sickly appearance,

“I-I didn’t do anything this time, I swear. Logan I promised myself I wouldn’t.” He picked himself out of the gutter he had been puking into, trying to look at the deity, just so he could feel some sense of reassurance. “I thought I’d never see you again. ‘Thought I was okay with that, but I’m not. I missed you.”

Logan only stared at Remus when he began crying. He was a sappy emotional drunk when he got through the fun tipsy phase, sue him.

“...I apologize for yelling at you.” Logan said, awkwardly hovering his hand over Remus’ shoulder until it shuddered with a sob and accidentally brushed against him. Remus jolted at the cool touch, as did Logan, who quickly retreated his hand, eyes darting around worriedly.

“‘Always thought you’d be like mist.” Remus slurred, awestruck enough to forget his sadness. He reached forward to prod at Logan, who furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully.

“I… Yes, that’s definitely strange.” Logan cleared his throat and straightened up. “In any case, you need to get off the street, report this incident, and go home. Being around so much death isn’t good for your mental health.”

“Maybe.” Remus sighed. “I quite like hanging around you, though.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re drunk. You’re going to feel a lot worse about seeing me in the morning, I promise.”

“I never feel bad about seeing you.” Remus said, picking up his phone from where he’d dropped it. “I only feel bad that it’ll be a long time before I get the chance to see you again.”

“...I don’t get it.” Logan replied softly after a heavy pause. “You shouldn’t want to see me at all. I’m a bad omen. You’d only ever get to meet me in times of tragedy.”

“‘Bad omen’... And I thought Emo was dramatic.” Remus chuckled weakly. “You’re not so bad, Lo. You guide people to the end. You care for them even when you have so many people to watch over. You’re opinionated and you’re easily curious when things don’t go to plan. You don’t mind when I’m weird and you’re fun to talk to. I like you.”

Logan blinked rapidly with surprise, clutching his chest. “I wish we could be having this conversation away from the recently deceased. But... I suppose I feel the same way. I still don’t know how or why you can see me, but our conversations haven’t been unpleasant.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus said, smiling softly to himself. “...You’re right though. I should probably phone this in. I just wish I could remember the licence plate… Something like XQ... ugh.”

“XQR 460.” Logan supplied helpfully.

“That’s it!” Remus cheered, sloppily kissing Logan on the cheek. “Thanks babe!”

Logan floundered for a second as Remus begun calling an ambulance, struggling to regain composure. “I hope we don’t meet like this again soon. Three times over the span of a year is already too much.”

“I don’t know.” Remus looked at Logan slyly. “I’ve always had pretty bad luck.”

--------------

Case 4: the bad doctor.

The next time Remus and Logan meet, it’s completely coincidental and under less stressful circumstances for once.

Well, still stressful. Just for different reasons.

Roman was in the hospital because of some dumb motorcycle crash he got into, which near-gave Remus a heart attack when he heard about because he may often ask for death these days, but not like this. Never like this.

Anyway, he was more or less alive in the end. Just a broken leg and a lot of scrapes and bruises since he always refused to wear the proper protective clothing when he went riding (due to it ‘not fitting his aesthetic', apparently. Remus assumed it was pussy talk for ‘I don’t look badass enough to pull off leather’).

Remus had stopped by to visit, bringing some of the fancy name-brand crackers Roman liked since he kept complaining about how stale and awful the hospital’s ones were, and to say hello to Virgil while xe was on shift. The three of them even managed to sit down while Virgil was on break and catch up, too. Roman and Virgil seemed glad Remus was doing a bit better after his downward spiral a couple of weeks ago, even if they didn’t mention it.

After a few hours spent catching up and teasing one another, he decided to leave Roman to get some rest. His plans for that evening were to take a load off and perhaps call for some takeout with Nadia. Honest to God, he didn’t plan on looking for any trouble.

But still, trouble found him when he noticed Logan walking the halls of the hospital, following a doctor to the elevator.

Remus double-taked. Though he shouldn’t really be surprised to see Logan here in a place with so much death, it was still odd witnessing the cloaked figure walk around normal people, none of them noticing his presence.

Remus quickly jogged over. "Logan!" He hissed under his breath.

The deity startled (startled!) before turning to him, just like the doctor he was following.

"Do you need something?" The doctor said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhhhh, nope! Just… getting into the elevator." Remus replied, stepping in and standing next to Logan.

"Why must you have such awful timing?" Logan sighed stressfully as the elevator doors slid shut. Remus looked at him, unable to verbally reply with the doctor standing right next to them. Fortunately, his unspoken request to elaborate was picked up on.

"This doctor is going down go the morgue. I was here to see a patient that died under his care, and I noticed how death seemed to latch onto him. I got curious."

Sounds like a bad doctor, if even a deity of death was interested in him. Heh, that probably said a lot about Remus too.

Logan elaborated for Remus’ misinterpreting amused expression. "Remus, he murders patients purposefully. You should not have gotten on this elevator."

...Oh. Remus looked past Logan to the doctor, who had noticed his glances.

"...Hm, aren't you supposed to be in your room? Broken leg, road burn, lacerations?" He questioned, eyes flicking down to where he assumed Remus must be injured.

"Nope! You’re thinking of my twin. I came to visit him today." Remus responded as chipper as he could manage, suddenly a lot more unnerved knowing that this apparently dangerous doctor knew about his brother.

"Ah! I see. I did wonder how you managed to grow a full moustache in a day." The man chuckled. "Twins… quite fascinating."

Uh oh spaghetti-os. "Yeah… people say we're like two unrelated people, we’re so different." Remus laughed dismissively. It didn't seem to bother the doctor.

"Interesting… Say, a partner of mine is conducting a study on the differences in the individual psychologies of monozygotic twins. I'm sure it would please her to get more data, if you'd be interested in participating. There would be monetary compensation for your time, of course."

"This is such an unethical form of recruitment. What kind of professional are you?" Logan argued in frustration. Remus almost burst into laughter on the spot from the bizarreness of the situation, but he somehow managed to turn it into an agreeable grin instead.

"Sounds good, doc." Remus said.

"What-?!" Logan exclaimed. Remus spared him a glance, hoping it would let him know he knew what he was doing. Logan didn't look placated in the slightest.

"Excellent! I'll pass the details onto your brother and we can arrange a meeting sometime this week.”

At that moment, the elevator stopped to let a few other people on. Remus took the opportunity to head out before they could reach the basement floor.

“See you later!” He called to both the Doctor and Logan.

“REMUS!”

--------------

Case 4.5: the dead doctor.

The next time they meet, Remus fully expects it.

Roman asks him over text why he volunteered them for a study, and Remus makes some vague excuse like ‘sexy doctor’. Thankfully, he bought it.

Before the date sent to them by the doctor, Remus decided to do his own research first. To do so, he contacted Virgil and asked for details on the man.

After copious amount of friendly jabs (like 'oooh Remus, I didn’t know tall, straight, and boring was your type'), Virgil told him his name and not much else, given that xe wasn't exactly close with the older staff member. That was fine; Remus used the information to find online profiles, where he found contact details and photos, where he found business accounts, where he found history.

After pulling a few more strings from people that owed him one, he managed to gain access to the vital records from the hospital. It didn’t take long to discover that Logan was right, there had been a spike in deaths since the doctor, a mister 'Stacey’, had begun working there. It was a mystery how no one had noticed the pattern honestly. Weren't doctors supposed to get their licences taken away after a certain number of incidents? As he begun looking through the files more closely however, he realized that the deaths were often chalked up to accidents; small things that could have been due to anything, from mistakes during operations, to the patients overdosing on their prescribed medication, to incidents days after they’ve been discharged.

As Remus closed his laptop, he begun feeling very glad he had impulsively accepted Stacey’s offer.

The meeting ended up being scheduled for Friday evening, and by the time it rolled around, Remus was fully prepared and waiting outside of the agreed location. He dialled Roman’s number, looking out to the empty parking lot and familiarizing himself with the location.

After a few rings, Roman picked up, sounding slightly agitated. “Yes, Captain Dookey?”

Remus snickered at the old nickname-- it was practically a relic from when they played pirates as children. Perhaps Roman was feeling sentimental after his accident.

“Aye aye first mate. You should know that I’m not gonna make it to the study. I already called Dr. Stacy to let him know we’re cancelling for today, so you can stay home.”

“Really Remus? I just got ready.”

“Yeah well, you’re supposed to be resting anyway. Unless you want to drop a visit by yourself that is, but Virgil told me he’s straight, soooo...”

He heard a retching sound on the other end of the line.

“No thanks.” A sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

“Bye, ugly.”

“Later, Rat Bastard.”

“Rats are cute, that’s not an insult. Byeee~.” Remus quickly hung up, his grin quickly fading as he took in the apartment complex.

It didn’t look like the sort of space that would house an office, but Stacey didn’t look like the type to break the Hippocratic oath either, so perhaps the world wasn’t as straight-forward as it seemed.

Slipping his phone away, Remus buzzed the number he’d been given, and it wasn’t long before the good doctor himself came down to answer the door personally.

“Remus.” Stacey almost looked surprised to see him. “Is your brother not coming?”

“Oh, no.” Remus waved a hand. “I just got off the phone with him and he told me he’s running late. He said to get started without him.”

He received a charming smile. “That works just fine. Come on in.”

Stacey led him up the stairs to his apartment, and the whole time Remus felt the weight of the kitchen knife in his pocket. When they got to the ‘office’ (which was really just a living room with minimal furnishing), he offered him a drink.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Remus said, looking around. “...Seems pretty empty in here for an office.”

“Ah… Yes, unfortunately my colleague is having renovations done in her usual space, so we’ll have to collect our data here. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

A fair enough explanation on the surface, and one his brother would probably accept if he was here, but Remus wasn’t nearly as trusting as Roman was. Nor was he as ignorant to the true purpose of this meeting.

“I see… That makes sense. Or at least it would, if I didn’t already know all about your dirty little secrets.”

Stacey glanced up from where he’d been looking for a pen. “...Pardon?”

Remus smiled back; a grin with all teeth. “You have quite a few skeletons in your closet, doc. Even for a fine medical professional like yourself.”

The doctor very carefully didn’t react to that. "My apologies, do you have the right person? To the best of my knowledge we've only spoken once."

"Yeah." Remus agreed. "And once is all it took. I found out about all those little accidents that follow you, doctor. Weird how many times your patients pass away from nicked veins and potassium chloride overdoses, hm?"

The only outward response Stacey gave was the clenching of his fists. Subtle, but Remus noticed it. "Be careful Mr. Kaneshiro, because that sounds an awfully lot like a baseless accusation. People sue for that, you know."

"I don't doubt it. But you already know it's not so baseless, don't you? You know exactly what I’m talking about, which is why you invited us here to a shady apartment late at night, no colleague in sight."

"Remus what the hell do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice chimed from behind him.

Remus startled out of his focus, whipping his head around. "Logan?"

"Don't look at me, you ignoramus-! You met a serial killer alone after I told you to stay away?!"

"He knows my brother, I couldn't just-!"

Remus looked back at the doctor was closer now, looking down at him pitifully. "I see now. The talking to air, the erratic behaviour, the pushing your delusions onto others… you mustn't be well. It's alright, Mr. Kaneshiro, I could easily refer you to a mental health facility who will take care of you."

"Remus, you have to get out! Now!"

"I know!" He wasn’t a complete idiot, damn it! But he needed to get Stacey to confess or-

"Ah, perfect! If you wait here, I’ll go and make a call."

Remus stepped backwards, hand going to the knife in his pocket. He needed Stacey to confess, but if he didn’t-

Unfortunately, Stacey noticed his movement and quickly grabbed his left wrist, putting way too much pressure in his grip than was necessary.

"Ah-ah. I told you to stay put, didn't I? Come now, don't be difficult. I'm only trying to get you the help you need."

If he didnt-

"Let go of him!" Logan demanded to the man who couldn't hear him.

Stacey froze, feeling the cool touch of Death on his arm as Logan tried to pull him away, and at that moment Remus pulled his knife out and stabbed him in the chest; slipping the blade right between the ribs.

Red pooled around the knife, staining his crisp white shirt vividly. Stacey stared at the knife, and dug his nails into Remus’ wrist.

"Fucker." Remus yelped with pain, pulling the weapon back out.

Finally, Stacey let go and stumbled back, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. His expression didn't recover from the shock from when Logan touched him; he didn't even try to apply pressure to the wound as he bled out. He just sat there until the light left his eyes, and the only sound left in the room was Remus’ laboured breathing.

"I… shouldn't have done that." Logan muttered, eyeing the limp body.

"Done what? I'm the one that killed him. That was my backup plan all along." Remus replied numbly, looking at the scene he had caused.

"I gave him the touch of Death, it's- it's an omen. I'm not supposed to use it ever."

"Gee, I'm flattered. I promise murder was always on my brain though." Remus said as he took the tape recorder out of his pocket. No need for this anymore. He wanted to get a clip of Stacey saying something incriminating so that he could defame him and ruin his reputation, but well, him not being able to benefit from a reputation at all was the next best thing.

Logan watched him, taking in the claw marks across his wrist. "...Right. He scratched you, so remember to clean under his nails."

Despite everything, Remus smiled softly at the advice. "Aww, you really care about me, don't you?"

"I- no. Absolutely not. That’s absurd" Remus snickered as Logan flushed an adorable shade of paynes grey, which he hid by going to deal with the corrupt doctor’s soul.

"...Why did you show up, by the way? There isn't anyone dead in this apartment is there?" Remus realized belatedly, looking around the empty space.

"Ah… No. Admittedly, I've been keeping a closer eye on this town than I really should, and after what happened the other day, I figured I needed to be here when I noticed you two meeting… I probably shouldn’t have.” Logan conceded.

"Well, at least you can't say this wasn't a business visit." Remus giggled to himself, wiping the blood from his knife with a tissue. Maybe he was a little giddy from the endorphins of confronting a prolific serial killer, or perhaps it was the confirmation that Logan cared for him, but either way he felt really good right now, like he could take on the world.

Logan looked at him and sighed. "I should've known you'd be trouble. No more killing, Remus. This has to be the last time."

"Of course, pinky promise~."

"...I can see you crossing your fingers behind your back, you brat."

--------------

Case 5: the one who tried to get away.

The next time they met, Remus broke his pinky promise. No surprises there.

It was hardly even a promise to begin with, but for some reason Logan expected him to stick to it. Quite foolish, if you ask Remus, given that he now had a total of three murders under his belt, and stopping there almost felt like giving up.

Of course, he had to lay low after Stacey however. The hospital was holding a memorial for his death and Remus later found out that it was ruled a break in. (Made sense, since Remus took a few of his fancy cleaning products on the way out, as a treat to himself.)

It was a shame Stacey was being remembered so honourably, but he couldn't really do anything about that. At least he wasn't out in the world hurting more people.

But unfortunately for Remus, the ruling of Stacey’s murder didn’t stop the incident from trickling into his normal life, as Virgil and Roman seemed to grow suspicious of him. Virgil didn't bring up the topic to him directly, but xe begun acting sketchy when the two of them hung out (Though that could easily be wariness after having one of xyr co-workers be killed). Oppositely, Roman brought the topic up at the first chance possible.

"Dr. Stacey was murdered the night we were supposed to meet him." Roman commented the next day they were able to have lunch together, arms crossed confrontationally. "Funny that."

"Yeah. Sounds like we had some pretty good luck, if you ask me." Remus grinned.

"Wha- why are you smiling?! A man died!" His twin hissed at him. Under his breath, as to not alert the other tables.

Remus’ grin faded. "Listen Ro-bro, I didn't want to tell you this but our good doctor wasn't as kind as you think he is. I called you off that night to help you. Trust me. It’s better off that neither of us went through with that ‘study’."

Roman leaned back, looking unconvinced. "What were you doing instead, Remus?"

"...Huh?"

"You heard me. Where were you? What's your alibi?"

"You're not accusing your own flesh and blood of murder, are you?" Remus sipped his drink casually; ice coffee with as many pumps of peppermint syrup as the barista would allow.

"Just answer the question." Siiigh, what a tightass. How did they come out the same womb?

"I was meeting an old friend, for your information. Logan." Remus smiled to himself at the inside joke.

"Logan? You've never mentioned a Logan before." Roman raised his eyebrows.

Remus leaned back in his chair with a shrug, opting to look out the window instead. By doing so he missed the flash of complicated emotions that crossed his twin’s face at the dismissive gesture.

"I don't tell you everything about my life, brother dearest."

"Clearly…"

A week or two passed since his conversation with Roman, and during that time Remus didn't get to see Logan again once. That wasn't such a terrible thing, most people would assume, to not run into a deity of death, but Remus was so bored! He wanted to see his favourite death pal again, but no opportunities arose to do that, and nothing was striking his murder-fancy.

That was until the day he saw a familiar licence plate parked outside a shop.

Remus froze in his tracks, remembering the night he last saw that car.

A woman crossing the street, a body too still, a car speeding away with no remorse-

Remus had given the licence number to the police, but clearly they hadn't done anything about it. Or perhaps they'd tried and the asshole bought them off.

He growled at the idea, startling a passer-by who was crossing around him.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long before he found out who his ire belonged to. A familiar face left the shops and begun walking towards the car; Anton, a guy who had been a year above him back in high school. Remus’ memory of the man was vague; primarily made up of snapshots of cruelty and entitlement towards those around him.

He looked exactly the same, with his annoyingly polished appearance and ugly overpriced clothes. So he was right about the police being paid off, then. Typical.

He'd just have to do something about this himself.

“I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you to stop this, is there?”

“I mean.” Remus begun, looking down at the body he had just finished suffocating and rubbing at his bruised arms. There was more of a struggle than tv had led him to believe. “I kinda had to do this one. What? Was I supposed to connect the dots on a murder and not stalk and kill the guy who got away unpunished?”

“Most people would say yes.” Logan groaned, in the sort of tone that said he already knew he was fighting a losing battle.

“We’re not like most people though, are we?” Remus grinned, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You’re most certainly not. I’m barely a person.” Logan replied with finality.

--------------

Case 6: the one who pushed their luck.

And then shortly after;

“Come on man, don’t do this.” The masked person pleaded, hanging onto the fire-escape for dear life. Literally.

Remus raised an eyebrow, making a show of contemplating the request. “Hmm, I don’t know. You did try to pull a gun on me.”

“It wasn’t loaded, jackass!”

Remus tutted and held his foot over the person’s clammy hands. They shook violently at the unspoken threat. “And now you’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood too? No consideration!”

His joking tone must have angered them, because they began struggling to hoist themself back up again, red in the face with strain. “I swear, when I get up there-”

Promptly losing his interest in hearing the rest of that threat, Remus stood on their fingers, causing them to let go of the fire-escape and plummet to the street below with a strangled yell.

“Whoopsie daisy.”

He leaned over the banister, whistling innocently as a familiar presence appeared next to him. Logan joined him in peering down at the body, eyebrow raised.

“At least this one was merely an accident?” He guessed by the cause of death, a twinge of hope in his voice.

“Nah, they’ve tried breaking in at least 3 times this year. It was getting annoying.”

As Logan scolded him for his recklessness, Remus decided not to comment on it when their topic of conversation turned back towards the casual banter they usually shared. The two of them stood on the fire escape until the sun was on the edge of the horizon and Remus had to dash back to his apartment to avoid being seen by the early-commuters.

--------------

Case 8: the innocent.

And then:

Remus curiously nudged the raccoon with the tip of his boot. He’d just stumbled upon it and it still looked fresh; given that he was standing by a busy road, it was no wonder what had happened.

He was making a mental note to come back and collect the bones at a later date, when Logan appeared in-front of him in a blink, looking completely unsurprised this time around.

Remus on the other hand startled before regaining his bearings and shooting the deity a smile. “Our paths are looking less parallel by the day huh, Psychopomp-ous?”

Logan raised his eyebrows appreciatively at the word play. “It appears so. It’s quite the pleasant surprise to find you not getting into trouble for once.”

“There’s always tomorrow.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows back. “That said, I really didn’t expect to see you. I was wondering for a while if you dealt with this kind of thing too, y’know.”

Logan looked down, seeming to really notice the raccoon for the first time. He nodded after a beat. ”She had a life too. My brother brought her into the world, and so I must escort her out.”

”Yeah? Anything of note happen?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity. He’d file away the latter half of Logan’s statement for later prodding.

”...She had a family. They stayed together under the porch of an old couple.”

“Ah, to be a racoon living under a porch.” Remus lamented dreamily. “I’m glad she got to live such a rich and fulfilling life before becoming road kill. I’m truly jealous.”

“In the wild, your lifespan would most likely be around 2–3 years as a raccoon.” Logan pointed out, attempting to contradict his idealistic tone.

“Exactly. The life.”

That earned a pinched expression from Logan that made Remus titter.

“Just messing with you, prim reaper~. Now, do you have any idea how long it’s going to take for her to decompose? I have a new piece of decor to make.”

--------------

Case 11: the matchbox.

Remus watched from afar as the house on Psyche Avenue burned. It was bright and brilliant, so of course the firefighters were already on the scene, trying to calm the fire and save the occupant inside.

They’d be much too late; the trafficker was already unconscious and likely burning to death, along with any evidence Remus might have left behind. It was the perfect crime.

Satisfied with today’s work, he took a drag of a cigarette, delighted when Logan appeared beside him instead of with the dirtbag who deserved to burn forever (and since it was a mystery whether he'd end up with such a fate, it only seemed fitting for Remus to play god and speed up the process.)

“Those kill, you know.” Logan said in greeting.

“That makes two of us.” Remus grinned sharply, even when Logan rolled his eyes and pinched out the end of his cigarette.

For the second time in a month, the two of them overlooked the sky together, illuminated by the amber blazes of the fire. It almost felt like a date.

--------------

Case 13: the one with bad luck.

He was back in the alley that had imprinted itself so clearly in his memory, knife buried in the chest of a would-be assailant. Remus was boredly watching the blood seep between the bricks when Logan finally appeared to deal with the body.

“You’re late!” Remus complained with a whine. “This guy’s practically cold already.”

“Apologies. There was a flash flood across the country, and it took more of my focus to handle than I would've liked."

Remus hummed. He thought he heard something about that on the news. Mother nature could be cruel indeed. Perhaps even worse than Remus himself.

“Anyone nearby?” He checked.

“Not in a half-mile radius, no. However, the police may be on their way.”

“Plenty of time, then.” Remus said as he pulled Logan down to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It had been months since that first drunk sloppy kiss happened, and less time since it had become a regular greeting. Remus would never get tired of the feeling of cold skin against his lips. It was like kissing marble-- if marble had a sassy mouth and a sexy amount of knowledge.

Logan pulled back first, smudging away the trail of blood running from Remus' nostril. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Nah, you should see the other guy.”

That earned a laugh-- a quiet chime that made Remus’ heart flutter. “I see them. Good job, you’re getting rather skilled at that.”

“Why, thank you~.” Remus preened under the praise. “It only took a couple tries, but I think I finally got the technique down pat.”

“Hmm. Speaking of 'Pat', my brother doesn’t seem to like this much. He’s not unappreciative of your choices in target, although he appears to be rather disapproving on the amount of times I've been called to your side."

Logan didn't talk about his brother much: the deity of life. From what little Remus had learned from his prying and Logan’s own complaints, he seemed like a bit of a killjoy. He blew a raspberry in response.

"Tell Patton to stop making so many criminals and maybe I'll consider it."

The corner of Logan's lips quirked up. "I don't think I will, as humorous as I'm sure that would be. It doesn't quite work like that."

Remus shrugged, watching as Logan looked off to the side.

"...It seems I’m needed elsewhere."

”You can’t stay? We barely got to talk.” Remus said with a pout.

“Unfortunately so.” Logan turned to the body; what he should have been there for. It wasn’t long before his focus was back on Remus, though. “That said... It’s a busy night. Perhaps we’ll meet again sooner than expected.”

Remus’ frown tipped back into a smile as he watched Logan vanish. He then turned on his heel and retrieved his knife before walking off into the night. If he was going to make good on Logan’s expectations, he better get to work.

--------------

Case 0: the one who death followed.

It soon became an established pattern; Remus would come across someone shady, and he’d put together a detailed- or straight-forward- plot on how to get rid of them. By now his city must have noticed the string of deaths, but with such a random means and very little evidence, Remus was free to continue as he pleased.

In a sense, he was untouchable with Logan by his side, pointing out anything he left behind and giving warning for any potential witnesses. Especially when he gave up on persuading Remus away from this path. It's not like the moral argument could be made anymore; the city had seen a drastic decrease in crime once Remus had taken out a lot of big players (even if there was an air of fear that lingered in the back of everyone's minds, wondering if they'd be next up on the chopping block).

All in all, it was enough to make Remus cocky; perhaps even enough so to lead to his downfall. But how was he ever going to give up now? All his life he’d been hoping for some sort of excitement to fulfil him, and he finally found it in a surprise meeting with a deity of death. Death had gone from a distant longing to something familiar and welcome; something he could use to right wrongs and feel a sense of purpose with.

And as long as he was able to exchange a life for one more meeting with his beloved partner in crime, he would do his best to stay ahead of the game.

(No matter who was out there, trying to stop the two of them.)

--------------

Writing taglist: @just-perhaps @sashootkahoot @anxious-l0ser @illogical-immunity @overlad-of-the-snakes @varthandi @whisperinginthevoid @and-this-sword @creamiiteaa-xx

Deityfucker au taglist: @arodynamic-enby @its-the-usda-certified-trashman @overlad-of-the-snakes @aromanticwhore @haha-phrog @hetalianhufflepuff @emeryyleaf @winter-wandering @gaylotusthatexists @8bituin

#my writing #sanders sides #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #(others are mentioned)#deityfucker au #death tw #violence tw #crime tw #weapon tw #swearing tw #injury tw #(lots of warnings for this one. take care!)

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Ill Tidings From Down Below

Night Culture AU One-Shot

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I am back once again with a fic based on this piece by @bunnvoid! This time it's one with Hal and Kyle's Night Culture forms in which they're "Wraiths"! I hope you enjoy the piece and do expect a possible sequel when Bunn and I converse more over what the other characters look like and such! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“That’s a wyvern,” he said dumbly, gazing at the large dragon currently stretching out its wings in the sun. “It’s as big as my home in New Guard.”

The royal flyer descended from the deep blue silk saddle, landing just a few feet from Kyle. “She,” he corrected. “Nezyphis is a she.” He accentuated his point by scratching a section of smooth looking scales behind her head, cooing, “Aren’t you a pretty girl, Nezyphis? Who’s a pretty girl?”

A noise rumbled through the air from the dragon’s chest, something akin to a purr and she fell flat onto her stomach, digging her chin into the dirt.

“She’s a giant dragon,” he repeated dumbly, this time catching the golden symbols lining the harness she wore; recognition bled across his face, and he remarked, “I didn’t know you were apart of the Royal Flyers, Hal.” Kyle’s lips pulled in a satisfied way as he muttered to himself, “But that does also explain why your head is shoved so far up your ass as it is. Only members of the Kings Forces act like that.”

If Hal had heard him, he didn’t speak on it as he explained, “My father was one when I was a child. I followed in his footsteps.” Hal exhaled as he leant back against the wyvern. “Besides, I only boast about it when I know there’s no one around who can connect me to the Wraiths.” He looked at Kyle. “You don’t usually come along this side of the land. Something up?”

Kyle nodded. “Bruce is calling for the members to meetup at the sanctuary. All of us.”

“Why’s that? Is there new force he’s detected in his hidey-hole?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself,” he answered. “I haven’t been out of New Guard in a few weeks, but…he seemed concerned.”

Hal snorted and Kyle swore the wyvern did too. “As if the man could ever feel something like concern. You honestly expect me to believe Spooky is spooked?”

“Hal, I’m being serious. Even Jason called on me and told me that Bruce is trying to find out where that occult magician Constantine is so he can recruit him as well.”

The flyer’s face pinched. “I don’t like that guy. He’s trouble.”

“Regardless,” Kyle waved off. “Bruce is calling us all to the sanctuary.”

Nezyphis suddenly stood on her hind legs, stepping in front of both men, and growled loudly. They both shot each other looks of suspicion then a swirling evergreen cloud enveloped them both, settling moments later to leave behind ghost-like wispy trails of smoke along their faces, arms, and legs, almost as if their entire bodies were made of the substance; humans taking on the forms of spectres.

“I don’t know what she’s growling at,” Hal murmured, voice cold and low like the hiss of death. “I don’t sense anything in the immediate area.”

“I do,” Kyle replied, his voice only an octave higher than Hal’s, but just as frigid. “And it’s evil. I can feel it slithering like the serpents in the Wayward Lands.”

“I hate that place.”

“Only because you’re intimately familiar with it.”

Hal shot him a glare. “As familiar as one can be when you’ve died.” He drew a hand along Nezyphis’ side. “Take to the skies,” he said. “You will have a better view from the air.”

She obeyed, massive wings generating gusts of wind strong enough to kick up the dirt and rocks around them as she lifted herself into the sky above.

Hal stared at the tree line, flying next to Kyle. “It’s coming from there.”

The painter looked at him. “Shall we flip a coin to see who goes in first?”

“You go first.”

“What! Why me!”

“Because I have seniority and I said so.” He nodded towards the trees. “Go, I’m right behind you.”

Kyle all but hissed at him as he stalked to the forested area, then he paused and looked back at Hal. “If I get eaten because of you, I’m going to kill you.”

“Uh huh,” Hal mocked. “I’ll be sure to send your patron your regards.”

The two walked into the forest, white eyes cautious and waiting for anything, though the further they went, the darker it got, as if the trees were finding a way to block out the sun. In mere minutes they had reached the heart of the forest, a giant clearing surrounded by a circle of trees, though the canopy blocked the light of the sun above them.

“I don’t like this,” Kyle mumbled. “I feel like I’m being watched.”

“Don’t be such a scared child,” Hal chastised. “We’ll be fine—we’ve faced worse and come out unscathed.”

The younger man stilled, resting his hand back across Hal’s chest. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he strained to listen. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly,” Kyle remarked, turning to him. “It’s too quiet.” They both started looking around. “Where is the wildlife? The birds and deer? There’s nothing around. It’s like—”

“Like everything has died,” Hal interrupted, nodding at the center tree and Kyle’s eyes went wide when he gazed at it.

The blackened char of the giant Blightwood tree gave off the scent of rotting flesh, causing both men to turn away, holding their hands to their faces. The ground all around the tree was covered in an oozing black liquid enveloping everything in its path.

“I’ve seen necromancy before,” Hal started. “But nothing quite like this.” He shook his head, taking a step back. “This is greater and far darker than anything I’ve ever encountered.”

Kyle nodded, stomach churning with every waft of the smell up his nose. “This must be what Bruce was worried about. But…is this an extension of the other phenomena? Or is this a new one cropping up?”

Hal shook his head. “I don’t know, but we need to leave and report this to Bruce and the others at the sanctuary.” He looked to the sky, what little of it he could, and his eyes widened. “Kyle,” he breathed. “It’s sundown.”

The painter’s head cocked up, jaw going slack. “That’s impossible…it was only eleven when we entered.” He reached into his chest, hand disappearing only to come out a moment later with a brass pocket watch. “My God,” he whispered. “We’ve spent eight hours in here. But how? It’s only felt like minutes?”

“The dark magic here must be distorting reality as we know it.” He urged Kyle to turn back. “We have to get out of here. Now, lest the others send someone to find us and experience the same.”

“This isn’t good, Hal. Something is seriously wrong with this forest. And not in the good way.”

“Save it for Bruce and the others.”

By the time they exited the forest, the sky was a deep mahogany, signaling the start of sunrise, and Hal raised his fingers to his lips, whistling sharply. The cry of the wyvern sounded above them, like she’d been circling the forest all day and night and into the early morning, then she landed.

Hal climbed into the saddle, holding his hand out to Kyle. “Come on.” Tugging the other man behind him, he dug his heels into her sides. “Go Nezyphis. To the sanctuary.”

The wyvern ascended into the dark sky and Kyle lifted his hand. “Guy and John have both tried to contact us during the hours. The forest must’ve distorted the signals of our rings as well.”

“We’ll be at the sanctuary soon enough to explain.”

Kyle frowned as the land passed by beneath them, the wind whipping across their faces. “Something tells me this is only going to get worse, Hal.”

The flyer’s expression darkened as he leant the wyvern in the direction of the sanctuary. “You and me both, Kyle…you and me both.”

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nothisis-ridiculous · 3 years

Text

Duplicity

An AU where Kaidan joins Cerberus for the events of ME2.

Chapter Nine: Of Explosions, Traps, and Thresher Maws

"Who did you blow to get access back?"

Mary looked up from the safety of the relatively stationary floor of the shuttle. This wasn't a day where the nausea meds worked to full effect, but she could suffer through a grin, "Illusive Man didn't appreciate Leng's interference with our mission."

"What a bosh'tet."

"You should still avoid him, if possible."

"Come on, Shep! Give me a reason to smear him against the cargo bay walls," Jack retorted with a smug grin.

Tali huffed, "I can take care of myself!"

Mary rubbed at her temples, focusing again on the grooves in the flooring, "we might be pushing it already."

"As I said," Jack sighed, "it's an empty facility. Since when did you give a fuck about what Cerberus thinks? Did you drink Cheerleader's kool-aid?"

"I jumped at the idea of blowing up this facility if my urgency was not noted," she retorted, "and only if it was cherry flavored. Unfortunately, it tastes like watered down orange."

"You're fucking weird."

"I'm sure someone likes orange flavoring."

"And they would be wrong, and besides, have you ever tasted orange?"

"That's beside the point, Shepard."

"Why is the bastard even here?" Jack interjected, becoming the voice of reason.

Mary puffed out her cheeks, "he was elusive about it. Leng mentioned something about a confidentiality breach. Tali, did you try and hack their systems?"

Tali shook her head, "if I did, they wouldn't have caught me."

Shepard grinned.

"Cerberus has the entire Normandy bugged, and not to mention that AI. I wouldn't do something like that without you knowing about it."

Mary nodded, "I thought so. If I wanted to get rid of those bugs, what would I need to do?"

Tali went silent.

"Way to ruin your plan," the biotic gently mocked.

"Who is Kai Leng to you?"

Jack leaned back in her seat with a growing scowl, "him and some Cerberus bitch tried to capture me. It didn't happen, but some mercs got me instead."

"That explains how you got to Purgatory," Mary murmured in response.

Jack shrugged, not interested in further explaining that particular defeat.

"Please be careful with him; even Miranda seemed spooked," she cautioned gently.

"Cerberus has really got you by the balls."

The blond flinched, "I'll have you know I ignored an urgent message from the Illusive Man to bring you here." It was a poor attempt at a deflection; everyone aboard the Normandy knew about her history with a certain crewmate. Worse was the presence of nearly every friend she had left in the galaxy. Most brought in by her. She had no doubts that the Collecter threat was overly sensationalized, but for the time being, it what her only option in stopping the threat. Anderson had seen the threat for himself, but whether or not he could help remained unknown partially because she was afraid of a formal admonishing.

"I forgot how much I hate this place."

~~~

"Shepard-- we caught a break."

Predictably, the break was a trap. Mary wasn't liking the new habit of trampling through her ship in armour fresh from a fight. Or how annoyingly composed the Illusive Man always was, even in her impromptu meeting, he was waiting with a cigarette and drink in hand. The bastard knew what he had done. Worse, he was ready for her to explode.

"In the meantime... I suggest you tell your crew I didn't risk their lives unnecessarily," whether or not the microscopic curl of his lip was imagined in the end, "it would make things easier going forward."

"I'll tell them the truth, screw this half-truth bullshit," Mary leaned back on her heel, folding her arms.

"Our reports missed the petulant child side of you," he took a long drag, flicking away the butt, "can't you see this was necessary."

"Not in the way you handled it."

His pupils narrowed as he stared at her, mouth kept in a thin line. Boldened by this slip, Mary pushed it, "you'll be lucky to have my crew after this."

"Who, exactly, is going to help you? The council already dismissed you once. The Alliance doesn't care about the humans in the Terminus Systems," his posture and blank expression returned, "unless you don't care about the abducted colonies and the Reaper threat anymore."

"Fuck you!"

He issued a long and drawn-out chuckle, "I expected better behavior from you, Shepard. Be an adult, and put aside your petty grievances. You need me to stop this threat."

The coldness pierced her heart first, spreading through her veins with incredible speed until it froze the tip of her fingers. The frigidity of her body forcing her face in a neutral expression, "Akuze was no petty grievance, you conniving prick."

She couldn't lose much more face, so stomping off without a pause was well within her wheelhouse.

"Mary?"

Kaidan knew that look, not that he had to be blocking her way to read it. The emotionless mask was there for only a select few emotions, and all urged him to reach out. Whatever it was, at least meant he wouldn't have to explain why he hovered around the briefing room. He stood his ground, allowing her the time to breathe before he attempted to pry it out of her. Eventually, her shoulders dropped for the briefest moment before squaring back up.

"Talk to me," Kaidan murmured gently, "what happened out there?"

Shepard's posture had corrected, but the mask had yet to fall. Moving him into unfamiliar territory, so he waited for her to speak. Timidly, slowly, placing his hand on her pauldron once the time elapsed into the space of no response.

"Shepard," he called.

First, her body lurched forward, he instinctively moved to pull her in, but the arm that reached around him corrected course and shoved him aside. Perhaps a little harshly, as his back met the metal wall of the hallway. Finally, the mask slipped, catching the moment her eyes filled with regret that morphed with the half-assed raising of her arms, "it was a trap."

Mary spun away to the right, sputtering another few choice words as Mordin collided with her across the opening doorway.

"Go get Grunt ready; we're headed to Tuchanka."

~~~

"You've had a lot more poker practice, Alenko," the turian mused in defeat.

"Back then, I was never invited," the biotic returned snidely.

"Only because Shepard took you everywhere," Tali added wistfully, "you were both so moony-eyed."

"Is that your excuse for always losing, Vakarian?" Kaidan grinned, fighting a bittersweet blush, "careful Tali, you'll start slipping."

"You were all formally crewmates?" Thane finally decided to speak from his corner of the mess hall table. His gaze lingered longer on the human. The other two were obviously connected to Shepard. His short time aboard the Normandy, he hardly saw the Commander and this man in the same room.

The human's next smile a little less forced, "yeah. With Joker at the helm. Those were crazy days."

"Much simpler times, just chasing a rogue spectre across the galaxy."

Tali hummed, "it felt more heroic back then."

"To hell with Cerberus," the man muttered.

Thane stood from his seat, this talk of the past making him feel further like a stranger in this group. Why Officer Alenko had invited him in the first place was a mystery, he hadn't attempted to speak with anyone. Not out of malice but out of desire. Shepard's words about him socializing with the crew to find meaning the sole reason he attempted this game.

The three looked up at him in unison.

"We can change the game."

"You can just stay and talk if you want."

"Look at you guys scaring away the new blood."

Thane glanced between the group; they were a good sort. He shrugged in an effort not to disappoint them, returning to his seat; he had little else of import to do.

"How about a game of go fish?"

The turian turned to the man, "isn't that a children's game?"

"I thought keeping your credits would be an enticing offer," Kaidan returned smugly.

"I already owe you a small fortune when you do decide to collect," the turian drawled, "might not be wise to encourage you to do so."

"I'm banking on interest too, Garrus."

"You would," Garrus chuckled, his eyes sweeping to the quarian, "but Tali, I've always wondered why your faceplate is tinted. Doesn't that distort your vision?"

"Garrus my e-"

Grunt barrelled by the table, taking the L2's attention with him. Adding biotics to the already large Krogan only increased his appetite, especially after a fight. The youngster looked pleased, settling down at the table with whatever was easiest to sweep into his arms—tearing into the still bagged loaf of bread sideways, the group watching with mixed reactions.

"Grunt," Tali was the first to scold, "you should be a little more careful."

"He's just a growing boy, Tali," Garrus replied.

The krogan looked up and around the table with a sheepish grin, "I am a boy no longer. I have passed the rite, and with my battle master, have defeated a thresher maw! You should be in awe!"

"That's no small feat-" Thane finding himself suddenly the chatty one.

"It was glorious! A worthy opponent. So big and in your face," Grunt continued to gloat through mouthfuls of bread and plastic.

"And Shepard?" the man dared to ask.

"The best battle master. Our enemies should be afraid!"

"Was she upset?" Tali pressed.

"No- she fought bravely."

Garrus was next to speak, "nothing odd?"

The krogan groaned, "she fought well. So well, she was too tired to speak."

Kaidan shuffled from his chair, hesitating as the turian and quarian took turns locking eyes with him, "am I supposed to sit here and do nothing?"

"I wouldn't test her patience."

Tali folded her arms, "what could you even do? Guilt trip her again?"

"Ouch," Kaidan flinched, running a hand through his hair, "I deserved that one."

Grunt looked around the table, cocking his head to the side. Thane went still, achieving a far better understanding of the situation than the confused krogan. Until Miranda, followed by Kai Leng burst from the second officer's office, both beelined for the elevator. Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan moved to intercept the pair.

"Out of our way," the Cerberus assassin seethed.

"Do you have a death wish?" Garrus tried to defuse him with humor and a well-intentioned claw on his shoulder. It did not work; the man's eyes only narrowed the anger held in his posture, doubling.

"Keep your dirty talons off of me, bird!"

Tali pulled Garrus back, allowing Kaidan to get in the way.

"That wasn't necessary," the biotic stated bluntly.

Leng rolled his eyes, "and neither is whatever fit Shepard is having in the elevator."

"So you're going to make it worse by demanding she stop?"

"Kaidan, we can't let her damage the ship," Miranda added gently.

"Yeah, I know," Kaidan sighed, rubbing at his temples, "but she won't. I don't think she will, anyway. It's her way of coping."

"By letting off biotic charges?"

"Yeah, I know, but has she damaged anything?"

EDI piqued up, "damage remains cosmetic."

Miranda placed her hands on her hips, "well, this is why we hired you, Alenko. Make her stop, or we'll be forced to act."

"Next time, a little warning after she's faced a Maw would help."

~~~

Riding through the elevator of the Normandy was an old pastime. Something about being crammed into a small space with blank walls let her think. About the good, about the bad, about anything that needed her consideration, really. She had spent hours in the old elevator; they moved much too quickly in the new ship. With more floors and staff came more distractions.

Usually, it involved much less biotic discharge, but this time that display kept the peace. The strain to keep it contained and from flaring too brightly occupied her mind pushed out the thing... the creature... that kept trying to wedge back in her mental space. Pulling it all back in, only characterized by a faint aura around her form, was another challenge. She kept her back to the person.

Ignoring it until the crinkling of a bag pulled her attention.

The opened bag revealing the light reddish-brown contents within, "I thought you might be hungry."

She looked Kaidan up and down, resting on his gentle gaze. Why was she so stubborn? Was he really so different? Did who he worked for matter? She couldn't pretend that all she saw of Cerberus was bad. She trusted Jacob- he had many of the same qualms she did about the organization but continued under their banner without compromising his morals. Her work was good fighting to protect the galaxy from the Reaper threat. Sure at the moment, it felt solely based on saving humans from the Collector threat, but they were only a tiny piece of the problem. She saw no shift in Kaidan, despite the things he had done after she passed. The same integrity, the same aggravating calm, the same compassion.

Perhaps she was unfair. What would she do to bring back the man she loved?

Huh, love was a funny feeling—a light but at the same time heavy notion.

Fuck this.

Fuck the forced distance.

If they were going to die, why waste what could be their last moments together?

"Kaidan."

Pushing the chips aside, she wriggled her way into his arms. A hand threaded through her still damp hair, his nose pressing into the top of her skull. The other arm supported the small of her back, cradling her in gently. Mary breathed in his familiar scent, no different than the man she knew two years ago. It was this easy. Some, but not all, of her worries faded into the background. She had missed physical comfort.

"Wrex was there," it was all she could offer.

Kaidan's chest rumbled, the patch pressed against her forehead an unwelcomed annoyance. A reminder. Hot and blinding, the logo was all she could focus on as it rubbed against her.

Maybe she was weak, but she could not separate the horror from the uniform.

He let her escape without a fuss, leaving him empty-handed.

#fshenko #mass effect fancition #cerberus au #female shepard x kaidan #kaidan alenko #duplicity #mass effect

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yugirl-with-dragons · 4 years

Note

ok but on that space au vein - Space Race AU. I've done it for Naruto before and it creates such an interesting dynamic between characters (from both Soviet and American sides) I'd love to see how this would pan out with 5Ds cast.

At first I was confused because I didn’t get that you meant the historical thing between the US and the Soviet union ahahaha (sorry my historical knowledge is very limited) but it’s actually a great scenario if you write it correctly!!!!!! :0 @aceyugiohdreamer helped me out so much and we came up with a list of ideas, but then we went so beyond our own expectations, it was unreal!!

It came out as an AU and a crossover (because we didn’t have enough characters in the 5ds cast who would fit every role we were thinking of + some specific characters would fit this AU in such a perfect way!!!) so here’s the list:

The US would be Neo Domino City, while Russia would be Heartland

The main leader of the space project in the US is Rex Goodwin

Nobody in Neo Domino trusts people from Satellite, which is the same hellhole it is in the anime, but Yusei is that one genius who could dramatically boost the chance of the US team winning the race! The main issue is all the prejudice and bullying he gets from the other Neo Domino scientists because nobody wants to trust a person from Satellite

Bruno/Antinomy is that only engineer of the team who trusts him, because he can see Yusei is a trustworthy person, like (and I quote) "I don't care where he's from, he knows what he's doing, and I need him. If you don't bring him on the team, I'm leaving to join HIM over in Satellite"

Crow is the guy in charge of the espionage program, idk why but he feels like the right person who can take care of that specific thing

Aki is the doctor that helps with the space projects on the medical side :’)

Sherry and Mitzoguchi work for the Neo Domino side

Important: Kaiba leads the project in Heartland (I imagine an older version of him because of time consistency, plus Mokuba might be on board too!)

Leo Akaba directs most of the research in Heartland. He works for the Kaiba Corp

I could see several characters in the Heartland team, they have nothing to do with each other, but I hope you can see why I picked them: team Ragnarok, then Kaito, then Spectre and Revolver. I can’t explain why, but they exude the right vibe

also, as a background story (and this is entirely Ky’s idea, to which I give the greatest chapeau): imagine that Kaiba started expanding his company into other regions, and at some point he moved his headquarters to Heartland because he felt satisfied with the state of Domino, and he wanted a new pet project to develop, and so he made Heartland COMPLETELY based on Kaiba Corp technology (which is why everything is so techy there, like even the trash cans are talking robots, because Kaiba was like, "THIS ENTIRE CITY WILL BE A LIVING MONUMENT TO KAIBA CORP!!!!"), and after he left Domino, it became Neo Domino, and Rudger/Roman (who was the leader of the space project in Neo Domino at that time) decided he wanted Domino to surpass Kaiba's legacy, and that's why he wants to compete with Kaiba, and Kaiba's like, "You think you can surpass me? Bitch, I MADE Domino what it is today!! Domino would be NOTHING without me! And now I've already built ANOTHER goddamn city, and you think you can best me? You don't know who you're dealing with!!!" And that's how it started

But then, then, the whole Rex, Rudger, and Dr. Fudo travesty happens, and Reverse Zero has a devastating effect, and THAT'S when Kaiba realizes this isn't just a competition of geniuses comparing their achievements, there's like, legit danger going on, and so now he's like, I have to fucking shut that whole operation down before they fuckin destroy the planet, and so now he's competing with them in order to not only discourage them and beat them in everything they try, but also to infiltrate their companies and corrupt them from the inside (bringing in the whole spy and red scare aspect of the Cold War space race)

About the Zero Reverse, the accident happened all bc of Rudger’s thirst for victory, he wanted to beat Kaiba so bad that he was ready to send the reactor straight to overload mode. Dr. Fudo tried to stop him, but it went like we know in the anime (and that’s how Satellite was born). Only Rex survived and he swore to never let such a thing happen again. He’s leading the project to the present day, but he still hasn’t given up on the rivalry thing. They’re all calmer now but they still want to get first

About Yusei, he would be Dr Fudo’s son, but nobody would be aware of his identity! (Not even Yusei knows his father belonged to that project :v he might know in canon, but he doesn’t in this AU because to be fair even the anime thing was hard to justify :v) Rex would look at him and get almost a heart attack though because they look sOOO alike, so he decides to investigate and.... oh, the irony

#kikubiku #ask #this got way LONGER than expected #thank you for the idea bc you threw gasoline on a fire we didn't know was already lit #if I'm not the one expanding this AU #I want someone to adopt it #space race au #yugioh 5ds

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

Text

September 1: 3x06 Spectre of the Gun

Okay so, it might be a little early to declare myself a S3 apologist, since there are still a lot of eps I’ve never seen, but I feel like I’m pretty close..

This ep was so good!! Honestly I think it’s one of my faves. And perfect to usher in Spooky Season.

Honestly, this show really is my happy place. Just all the characters together on the bridge, on some kinda adventure, looking at weird space buoys and investigating stuff.

Again, this buoy looks like a Windows 98 screensaver.

Kirk keeps referring to Spock as “Science Officer.” Is he mad at him? Full of some particularly intense longing that requires him to put extra distance between them?

Excuse me, you address US as aliens? YOU’RE the aliens.

Hmmm, so it seems they’re not friendly.

It’s addressing them in different languages!!! I love it. Love the reminder that Uhura’s first language is not English,also.

“True telepaths are dangerous.” As opposed to fake telepaths like Vulcans lol?

The Melkotians withdrew immediately. They invented space travel, they saw space, and they said “not for us” and they turned around and left. McCoy would like them; they’d have a lot to gripe about together.

The welcome mat is NOT out.

“Unlike Mr. Scott’s transporter, this unit is not functioning.”

It legit looked like Spock put his hand on Kirk’s back there. Like he clearly raises it, but not far enough to be seen above Kirk, so like.. what was the point? Where did it go?

LEE CRONIN--oh no, flashbacks lol.

“We come in peace”--immediately pulls out gun.

I should have watched this when writing my Western fic.

Just bits and pieces of a Western town... and a completely red sky...

The guns are “crude but dangerous.” If only Sulu were here; he’d love this.

An announcement with a specific time and place on it--that’s a very precise detail to just pull from their minds. Must have come from Kirk’s, that nerd. Maybe Spock. But probably Kirk.

“Because my ancestors pioneered the American frontier.” I mean did they really get to the frontier? Or just... the Midwest?

Maybe it’s actually because he’s a cowboy at heart?

Aliens using his own ancestral sins as the pattern for his own death for breaking their law IS a great (possibly partially unintended) idea. Oh also, if they think that Kirk and co. are here to ‘tame’ or colonize them, then the Western setting makes even more sense--you’re no different from your ancestors, you came somewhere new and brought lawlessness and violence and death, but not this time!

Can you believe Kirk knows all of these details about the OK Corral? NERD.

Spock is so proud of himself for knowing the phrase “had it out.” Look, I used slang correctly!

These are some creative aliens.

“We know death is real here.” Or is it? They’re literally telepaths guys.

Hmmm, this building doesn’t need a roof I think. - The aliens probably

Can’t believe Scotty thinks his usual is his actual usual lol. You’re going to drink bourbon and like it!

Kirk and Spock look so good together.

They’re obviously Chekov’s disapproving parents.

“The day is still young, Ensign.” I don’t remember the exact context of this but Spock is SO judgmental.

What is Kirk doing? This guy is a hallucination; he won’t be convinced by touching some cloth. There’s nothing to convince! He’s only a Concept.

“Have you seen clothes like this?” / “Yes.” / “Where?” / “On the Claytons!” Comedy gold.

Kirk really thinks he can charm his way out of anything. Hmmm, maybe if I just talk nicely to the Earps, they won’t kill us.

“In small amounts, it [bourbon] was considered medicinal.” Lol.

Scotty is becoming a bourbon guy!

“Mr. Chekov is inVOLVed” lol. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

“A lot of people and things have tried to kill me.” No need to brag.

THAT’S how you make a city limits sign. Put a dead animal skull on top. I live quite close to a city limits sign and I think it could use a cow skull.

Western Cossacks!!

Poisonous snakes and cactus plants. That really distills the Aesthetic down to its core.

This is a good Kirk episode. He’s really being a good Captain: coming up with different ideas, being creative, pushing his crew to brainstorm.

Bones and his tranqs again.

Bones meets his old nemesis: Old Timey Medicine.

Why was Doc Holiday just...chilling in his own dentist chair? (My mom suggested: power nap. Let’s go with that. Power nap + ability for optimally dramatic entrance.)

Also I can’t believe McCoy just goes into this guy’s practice and starts helping himself to all the serious drugs.

Chekov definitely isn’t the marrying kind.

RIP Chekov.

Bones does not sound very sympathetic here. Jim, get over it, he just died, whatever.

And then two seconds later he turns around and tells Spock he’s not sad enough! You can’t win.

“We all knew the risk when we joined the service.”

“My feelings are not a subject for discussion.” !!!!!!! This line!!

“You worked closely with him.” Yes! Chekov is his protege!

“Bones, Scotty, stop bullying Spock.” <-- not an actual quote but it might as well be.

If this were AOS, Spock would already be choking Bones out.

Whoops, no one told Chekov he wasn’t supposed to die!

“Let’s organize! Let’s form an anti-Earp union!”

“I can’t kill them!” he says in a mad rage.

I mean, it is important, though. That’s not what he does.

Kirk is /disgusted/ by lawlessness and frontier justice. What a Rebel TM.

I feel like Bones was waiting for the gotcha moment when Spock compliments him. “Saying nice things about me? That’s not how this relationship works!”

“Nothing can go wrong.” / “Up to now, everything has gone wrong.” He has a point.

That pause before Spock admitted it hasn’t been tested lol--they don’t want to admit it.

“[The bourbon’s] for the pain.” / “But this is painless.” / “You should have told me that before.” The unexpected comedy stylings of Scotty and Spock.

It doesn’t work--guess Spock’s got to take back that compliment now.

“Captain, you don’t understand--they’ve been telepaths the whole time which we already knew!”

“We’re not going to move from the spot.” * is immediately in a different spot * Well I mean at least he’s trying. He’s doing his best!

Love the OK Corral sign also. Weirdly creepy. With its accompanying horse.

Spock doesn’t have any hips for the holster to rest on.

“What did Chekov die of?” / “A piece of lead in his body.” That would do it.

If the tranquilizer should have been effective, does that mean Scotty is actually passed out right now?

Honestly, this is all so spooky. TRUE Western Horror Ghost Vibes.

Also very trippy. If you don’t believe it... it’s not real... some kinda weird chicken and the egg argument regarding our belief in the truth of physical laws idk but it sounds good. Spock brings it home.

Even with the wind whipping around him, Kirk is SO in love. His absolutely adoring expression... So soft...

“Very well, Sir, I’ll meld with you again. Not that I particularly want to. It will be a sacrifice. But I’ll manage. Even though you’re such a dynamic individual haha ha I’m fine I’m cool.”

I feel like Scotty is NOT into the mind meld. He looks terrified. Maybe he should have saved the bourbon for this occasion.

I know the mind meld is supposed to be a replacement for on screen hypnotism...but is this not hypnotism? Like even more than past uses? In this case, Spock is leaving them with suggestions that he wants to continue AFTER the meld, as opposed to, like, efficiently sharing information or giving immediate suggestions. And the scenes themselves are very creepy and...hypnotic.

Kirk’s patented move: WHOLE BODY ATTACK.

Well, we wrapped that up right quick.

Did they... never actually leave the bridge? Or even navigate past the buoy? This actually brings up a lot of questions as to when the aliens started the hallucinations, what their bodies looked like to the rest of the crew, and how they woke up--since there’s obviously been a bit of a time skip, as Bones is already examining Chekov.

Lol at Chekov, saved by horniness. “Nothing but the girl was real to him.”

“A vast alliance of fellow creatures who all believe in the same thing...”

Kirk’s vision of the utopian future is so powerful, he’s effectively gotten the welcome mat put back out.

A personal question? Kirk is intrigued.

Ah, but it’s just another excuse for Spock to be a hypocrite--how did humans survive? How did VULCANS survive? And for the show to remind us of its utopian vision of the future... we will move past violence, we will prove ourselves attractive to and worth of new alien friends.

Then McCoy walks out so Kirk and Spock can have their Moment. He undoubtedly knows what’s up.

So this ep was shown one day before the anniversary of the shootout at the OK Corral AND on Halloween week. It is very much a spooky season episode. So surreal and strange. Ghostly.

I know using sets rather than on location shoots, and not even building whole sets, was a budgetary issue but tbqh I think it worked in the ep’s favor. It added to the alien feeling of it and was an accidentally creative way of showing that these images were pulled from Kirk’s mind.

This felt like a very Classic S1-ish ep to me. I think it’s because Kirk was foregrounded as the Captain/hero and we get to see not just his intelligence and creativity and leadership but also his compassion and his moral core. He IS the values of the series, personified, and that was clear here.

But we also got to see lots of him and Spock, casually working as a pair, and the use of the rest of the landing party crew was very deft also. I loved that there was time to mock Chekov’s horniness, to talk about Spock and Chekov’s professional relationship, to joke around with Scotty, to show more of the Spock and Bones dynamic.

Again, great sci fi concept. I think this would have been another possible inspo for my Pirate AU if I’d seen it in time (although I think I picked a good mission-concept ultimately). I’m fascinated by the Melkotians: who are they? What do they really look like? Do they communicate any other way but telepathically? Are they corporeal? What is their planet like? And most importantly, what experience lead them to be so isolationist? They specifically refer to the aliens as “disease” coming into their home. And it’s when Kirk shows himself to be fundamentally nonviolent even in the face of his own death, they let the Enterprise through.

Basically, I always enjoy hints of alien societies that bring up more questions for me than answers. I love speculating about it.

The next two eps I’ve seen and remember well and I know they’re classics. I’m really looking forward to them!

#the year 2021 #2021: fandom thoughts #2021: star trek #star trek tos

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ad1thi · 4 years

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and then there’s you | Au-gust Day 8: Superheroes/Superpowers AU

AU-gust masterlist

i took a brief hiatus but now im back!! this is possibly one of my favourite things ive written, ever

Steve was never expecting to get along with James. He didn't have the best start with Tony - even though he likes to believe that they've moved past that and have become good friends - and James' protective streak was well known. After all, the man broke records trying to fly back to New York fast enough and managed to show up just as the Hulk picked up Tony from the sky.

He still remembers the way James landed around them with a thud, his faceplate snapping up and shoving all of them to the side so that he could get to Tony. He remembers the way Tony's face softened; the way James reached out with one metal encased hand to awkwardly rub his hair before settling on his shoulder.

He remembers fiercely missing the time in his life when someone looked at him like that, like he was the reason the world continued turning.

In retrospect, Steve honestly should've seen this whole thing coming, but he's still blindsided by the whole thing.

After the last of the Chitauri are felled down, Thor and James raging in the sky until they drop like flies, they regroup back at Stark Tower. It's almost too easy, over in a matter of hours, even though Steve feels like it's taken ages. They lock the Spectre away and clasp chains around Loki's body - and he can release a breath that he didn't know he was holding it.

"Colonel Rhodes," he says, later, when they're all lounging in a beatdown shawarma joint, shamelessly taking advantage of an extremely grateful store-owner, “I just wanted to say thank you for all your help. Having two heavy hitters in the sky really helped us take down the stragglers. We couldn't have done it without you."

James and Tony (from where he's resting on James' shoulder) both turn to him and give him identical looks, the kind that makes Steve want to duck his head and rub the back of his neck.

"No need to thank me Cap," James says finally, "Just doing my civic duty." But he keeps looking at Steve, in a way that stirs feelings inside Steve that he thought had died when he went into the ice.

Guess not.

He nods once and is saved from answering by Tony grabbing the Colonel into another discussion. He takes another bite into his wrap, the food feeling wooden inside his mouth. Tony has one hand in the air, gesticulating wildly, but the other is wound around James, inter-twined with his own. It twists something inside Steve, and he tries to tell himself that it's just him missing his life before the ice. Before he was dropped into the twenty first century.

He looks up to see Thor giving him an all too knowing look for a man who only met him a couple of hours ago. It makes him so uncomfortable that he stands abruptly, pulling both Tony and Rhodey out of their conversation.

"I have to go," he says stiffly, "I have some work to attend to. I'll see you guys at the Helicarrier tomorrow at 0900 for a debrief," he nods at his team, "Colonel, it would good to meet you."

"Call me James," he says, nonplussed, "that’s what everyone who isn't this fella calls me," he thumbs at Tony; who's face twists in mock outrage.

Steve doesn't say anything, spinning on his heel and all but running out of the shawarma joint, lest he dwell too strongly on the fact that James called Tony fella.

Despite their horrendous first meeting, Steve and James actually get on fairly well. He's in New York a lot, despite still being on active duty. Ostensibly, it's because the War Machine - now rebranded as Iron Patriot armour needs regular check-ups and after what Tony and James mysteriously refer to as the Hammer incident - Tony is the only one who fiddles with it.

It makes sense, since Tony designed the damn thing, but Steve knows that James is a genius of his own right. Privately, he thinks that James is equipped to deal with any and all faults in the armour, but he makes it a point to come for Tony. Watching your bestfriend strap a nuke to his back and fly into space with no concrete desire to return tends to do that to someone. Hell, if Bucky had pulled something like that he wouldn't have left him out of his sight.

Besides, now that Steve has been living with him and gotten to know the man behind the mask so to speak, he can see why Tony inspires that kind of loyalty. The way he badly misjudged Tony still digs at him, even though Tony has waved off his apologies multiple times and promises that he harbours no bad feelings.

Steve isn't complaining though. He likes that James visits, even though he frowns everytime James complains about how hard it was to finagle time with his superiors. Clint calls it his Captain America face, says that he makes it every time he thinks there's a fight. Steve doesn't know if he has a specific face, but he does know that it doesn't sit right with him that James has to fight that much to come stateside.

That was the whole point of the War, that they would fight so that future generations don't have to. There's a lot to be said for the twenty first century. His country's proclivity with inserting themselves into every war that side of the Atlantic isn't one of them.

Still, James' regular check-ups mean that Steve has gotten a chance to get to know Tony's bestfriend - since he winds up spending a lot of time in the workshop these days; sketching while Tony putters around. It's like white noise - the sound of a wrench or a blowtorch, interspersed with Tony and JARVIS sniping with each other, and it reminds Steve of the barracks, of the Howlies huddled around a single fire and sniping around each other.

(It reminds him that he's no longer alone)

When James comes however, the entire workshop lights up, and Steve along with it. Despite his best efforts, the smidgen of interest he'd felt in the shawarma joint has buried itself inside him, planted seeds and grown around his heart. It doesn't help that James is one of the most easy-going people he's ever met, the kind of person one gravitates to.

He reminds Steve deeply of Bucky, but then again - Steve was never overcome with the urge to bear Bucky down and kiss him until they both couldn't breathe.

"Steve!" James cries out, as the workshop doors open with the faintest snick, "It's good to see you."

Steve looks up from his sketchbook - where he's been drawing James funnily enough - and gives him a warm smile, "James. Good to see you. How's the Iron Patriot?"

"Don't call it that," Tony wags his wrench at Steve, looking like he's contemplating the merits of lobbing it at him, "You do not call it that in my workshop. This is a sacred space."

"She's handling like a dream," James says over Tony, but he still walks over and pulls Tony in for a small hug before making his way over to Steve. The first time this had happened, Steve was almost jealous, but he's since realised that it's just a part of James' schedule. The need to physically remind himself that Tony is okay.

"There's been a couple of tough missions," he continues with a grimace, after he's done surreptitiously looking Tony over and found his way to the couch where Steve is currently propped up. "I've definitely got some fresh bullet dents. But nothing Tony can't fix, isn't that right Tony?" he calls out to where Tony has turned back to his holo-screens and gets a half-hearted gesture in response that Steve takes to mean that Tony has heard James.

"Enough about me though, not in the least because I could be arrested for going into detail," James reaches out and places his hand over Steve's; and it takes everything in Steve to not react to the touch, "You getting through the list okay?"

A month into his stay at the Tower, Steve was listlessly chewing a banana in the Common Room when James came out for some water and saw him. "They taste weird," he'd said, when James asked if the banana had done something to offend him, "I guess I was just hoping it was something that hadn't changed."

James had regarded him for a second, and then pulled out a napkin from thin air, "You should make a list. It's what I tell most of my rookies, when they're going back after a long tour. Make a list of everything you want to catch up and work through it on your own pace. At the very least, it gives you something to do."

Ever since then, Steve keeps a small black book on his person, filling it with a never-ending list of things. The entire team pitches in, depending on what it is that Steve is about to discover about the twenty-first century. Steve likes it best when James carves out time for him though.

"I'm adding more things than I'm crossing out," Steve admits, and James clucks sympathetically, "but it's good. I've not Star Wars on my list next? And Tony made me promise to wait for you to come back so that both of you could introduce it to me together."

James whistles lowly, but his eyes light up, "Oh I am so happy that you waited for me for this. Never listen to Tony, he thinks the prequels deserve rights," he bends down to whisper at Steve loudly, "we don't recognise the prequels."

"Is that prequels slander I hear in my safe haven?" Tony pipes up, spinning around to face them. He's still got the wrench in his hand, "Don't make me revoke your access honeybear because I will, don't test me."

James holds up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm going to go freshen up," he says with a clap, "but after I'm back, we can discuss Star Wars strategy."

Steve watches him go, until he disappears around the corner. When he looks back at the workshop, he sees Tony looking at him with a look that's half speculative, half sympathetic.

"You know that nothing can happen right?" he says apropos of nothing, but Steve knows exactly what he's talking about, "It's against the law. DADT. If his superiors find out, his career is over. 's why me and him ended in the first place."

Steve found out about Tony and James' history only a month ago, and the sting has faded. Mostly because he knows it was a long time ago, and neither of them harbour those feelings anymore.

"I know," Steve says carefully, because Tony is still James' bestfriend, "and I wouldn't ask him to risk that. Doesn't change how I feel though. And if I have to wait, or hide it, or even ignore it until he's ready to deal with it - I'm ready for all of it."

Tony nods, like it's the answer he's expected, "You'll be good for him Steve. He deserves someone who'll wait." Unlike me, who didn't goes unsaid.

"I don't expect anything from him Tony," Steve says, looking Tony right in the eye, "but I can't just pretend I don't feel the way I do. Especially not if there's the barest possibility that he feels the same."

Steve isn't generally good with these sorts of things, recognising interest. Still, he doesn't think he's imagined the looks he's gotten from James the past couple of times he's been over, over misread the touching, the talking, the borderline flirting.

"He does," Tony confirms, "but like I said - nothing can happen." He says in a careful tone, and it takes Steve a couple seconds to cotton onto what Tony is implying. It leaves a rush through him, reminding him of back-alley trysts, protected by the shadows.

"Nothing can happen," Steve repeats, and Tony pointedly turns his back as Steve leaps up from the couch and follows James out. He thinks about calling ahead, or maybe messaging - but there's a decent chance that James already knows about this conversation, since Tony wouldn't have brought it up unless James had expressly allowed him too.

Steve might not know much about the twenty first century, but bro-code well enough.

He knocks on James' door, thrumming with energy, and his heart stutters when James opens it in a towel; one around his waist, catching the droplets of water falling down his chest, and another around his neck.

"Steve?" he asks, and there's no mistaking the hopeful tone in his voice. It confirms Steve's suspicions, that Tony was talking to him on behalf of James.

Steve doesn't reply, just pulls him for a kiss.

Fin

#my writing #steverhodey #warshield #steve rogers/james rhodes #steve x rhodey #steve rogers x james rhodes #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #Superheroes/Superpowers AU #post Avengers (2012)#past rhodeytony #pre slash #mutual pining #first kiss #dadt #secret relationship #pov steve rogers

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ecto-american · 4 years

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Replacement Memories

Phic Phight Oneshot for @anthropwashere based on their prompt: "Memory Blank" AU where Sam can't convince Danny to go into the Portal, so she goes in instead.

Official summary: AU During the events of Memory Blank, Danny refuses to risk his life going into the portal because of what a complete stranger tells him. But the world needs a half ghost hero. And thus, Sam steps up to the plate

Read on FFN or AO3

His eyes scanned the photos that she had laid out before him, and Sam swallowed nervously at he tried to process what she was showing him. The book was full to the brim of photos of all the years they spent together, the three of them.

Danny's eyes honed in on a particular photo.

"Wait a minute," his voice hitched a breath, and Sam felt her heart race in hope. "That's my parents' lab…"

It was the three of them, Tucker, him and her. They stood in front of the Fenton portal. It was closed, but it was unmistakably the portal. Clearly no longer under construction, with wires poking out and parts not fully attached. Sam tried to read his face, but it had gone oddly blank. He flipped the page.

Danny holding the jumpsuit that would soon become his trademark look, in front of the open portal. Him and Tucker cuddled up on the floor, sleeping peacefully. The famous hero Danny Phantom, the secret identity Danny would have no longer known, flying in the peaceful night air, without a care.

The boy sitting across from her at the table looked up at her, eyes wide, and she could see now that they were full of fear and confusion. She couldn't say she blamed him.

"Who…" He paused, and she could see him swallow nervously. "Who are you?"

"I'm Sam Manson," Sam introduced herself. She reached forward to turn the page once more, and her finger pointing out a particular photograph. Danny Phantom floated before it, his arms crossed lazily as he floated in front of the open portal. If her train of thought was right, then Danny would have never seen the portal's glowing green swirls. The portal would have never been turned on. "This is you." She put her finger specifically on Danny before moving to the portal. "A few months ago, I convinced you to go into this. You went in there, there was an accident, and-" Sam couldn't help but fall silent. Danny stared back at her.

"I got super powers?" he finished for her. Sam exhaled deeply.

"Actually, ghost powers," she clarified. Danny shook his head slowly.

"Sorry, but you're not really selling me on this," he apologized.

"You have to believe me. I-I fucked up, okay? We had a fight, and I wished we'd never met, and th-that ghost in the school made it happen," she rambled slightly, and she lifted up the bright pink sweater slightly, shifting so that he could see the anti-ghost belt. "But I was wearing this, which is why I don't think the ghost affected me, and now you don't have your powers anymore."

Danny shook his head more, exhaling as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with the palms of his hand. Sam's heart sank as she sat back down in her chair, scooting closer. Her hands grasped the edges of the book.

"This is crazy," he mumbled. She gripped the book tightly.

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. I swear on it." Her voice took a desperate tone, but she didn't know what else to say. It sounded absolutely insane, and it's because it was absolutely insane. All things considered, it was the most wild, flat out bullshit-sounding thing one could ever hear. A human having ghost powers.

"What do you even want from me?" Danny asked. He rested his hands on his knee, one of them bouncing anxiously as he observed her.

"We need to get you your ghost powers back," she said firmly. Danny's eyes widened. "Which means we have to re-create the accident."

"What the fuck? No, that's suicidal, that'd involve literally like, if it's ghost powers then you're literally asking me to kill myse-No!"

Her stomach flipped. She had never thought of it like that; this was just about putting things back as they should.

"No, it's not like that!" Sam tried to protest, but she only cut herself off. That's...that's basically what happened. She nearly killed her best friend. And now she sat here, trying to convince him to do it again. And...there was no guarantee that he'd become half ghost again. The past two days had already been horrible over losing him, emotionally. Post the first accident, she could barely live with herself and knowing the pain she put him through, but still was asking him go through it all again.

But Desiree was only growing more and more powerful, they couldn't just defeat her with Fenton gadgets. Especially when the only ones that were, assumingly, still around was the Spectre Deflector that Sam wore, and her only Fenton thermos and Jack-o-Nine tails. They'd be killed. They needed a half ghost. They needed Danny Phantom.

And almost as if on cue, the first cry of fear rang out.

Panicked screaming filled the store, and she could feel the ground rumble as people began to run. Her head shot up to see a ghost with sharp claws, the trademark sweater and fedora, pale skin. Sam could recognize the legendary movie monster.

Nightmerica.

"Danny, you have to-" Sam cut herself off as one look reminded her of everything. Danny's pale, pale, frightened expression as he was frozen to the spot. He didn't have his ghost powers anymore. He wasn't his powerful and confident self.

Fuck. It was...truly on her.

Sam reached into her backpack, digging around for the Jack-o-nine tails. Her hands found the Fenton thermos first, and she immediately attacked it to a loop on the anti-ghost belt before digging back in for her weapon. She grasped it, and she pulled it out, dropping her backpack and letting her newly freed hand turn on the Spectre Deflector.

"What the hell are you doing?" Danny's voice called out to her, completely baffled, but Sam ignored him.

Pressing the side button to let the invention activate, she began to charge. A net came out, and she spun it around above her head like a lasso.

Nightmerica had occupied herself with chasing after Paulina, the teen barely managing to dodge. Sam nearly skidded to a halt, throwing the net forward. The net wrapped itself around the ghost in a cacoon of webbing and ropes. A hard jerk of the pole, but Nightmerica stayed in place, jerking wildly in hopes of freeing herself. Sam gritted her teeth. This was a lot physically harder than she expected.

"Come on," she mostly muttered to herself, and she moved her left foot back, pulling harder. She could feel some sweat collecting on her forehead.

Finally, Nightmerica came to her, being jerked forward, and Sam grinned. She unhooked the thermos from the belt, and using a thumb, popped off the top. It rolled onto the floor, and she sucked the ghost in. The bright blue beam ensnared her, and she screamed in protest. The jack-o-nine tails dropped as it's ghost was captured, and Sam pressed the side button to retract the netting. She scanned the floor for the cap, and she put it back on, stopping the steam of the Fenton thermos as it powered down.

"...You've done this before." Danny wasn't asking, almost lightly accusing her. Sam could only shrug.

"...More than you could ever remember," she said, and she glanced down at the thermos in her hands. That wasn't too hard...maybe she could take on Desiree solo, and without ghost powers. The Fentons kicked butt without having to resort to ghost powers. Same with the Guys in White.

...That was what she tried to convince herself as her mind tried to ignore the countless times that this simply didn't work out. The amount of times the ghost got away because the human hunters couldn't keep up with the speed of a flying ghost, or how hard you went down because there was very few ways to match the strength and raw, internal power of a ghost. You were fucked if your weapons all were taken out of commission.

Danny studied her carefully, his eyes stealing a quick, nervous look at Tucker for some kind of help. Tucker did nothing but watch their exchange. Nobody spoke as Sam quietly relocated her bag, putting the thermos and the Jack-o-nine tails into it, before finding her book, letting it slip inside as well. Danny hesitantly cleared his throat.

"...L-look, you have my attention now," he said slowly. Sam glanced at him curiously. "Let's talk more."

Her heart thumped wildly. She zipped her backpack shut, slinging it quickly onto her back and reaching out to grab his wrist. Her other hand grabbed Tucker's.

"Finally!" she exclaimed. "Let's go!" Danny paled once more.

"Right now?" he squeaked.

"Yes, we have to stop Desiree!" Sam insisted, tugging on both of their wrists. Danny refused to budge, swallowing nervously, despite Tucker taking a half-step forward. Tucker was, very uncharacteristically, silent, though Sam knew that this was because he was also very unsure and apprehensive about this. The geek was simply glancing back and forth between the two as they had their exchange.

"I'm not ready to die," Danny's voice barely came out, and Sam stopped pulling.

"Please, you have to trust me," Sam found herself begging.

"...Okay?" Danny hesitantly spoke. "I...trust you."

She knew he didn't.

123456789

"It's all clear."

Sam glanced up from the photos in her hand to see Tucker coming back down the stairs. Her eyes drifted to Danny. He was standing in front of the portal, the eerily familiar metallic inside being exposed. There was no familiar green opening, just the dark, cave-like insides. The cables were still all over the floor, having not been tied off yet and out of the way.

When Tucker spoke, Danny had turned to look at him. The youngest Fenton had his arms crossed over his chest, and he was bouncing in place, though he stopped at the words. He still looked pale, and Sam bowed her head at the console before him. She flipped to reference another photo, and she began to rearrange the dials so that it was the exact same.

"C-cool," Danny spoke shakily. "Hey uh...Sam, right? How's it going there?"

How was she supposed to ask him to do this? To go through with this? He was terrified and putting his trust in who he only knew right now as a total stranger. Could she really ask him to go through all that pain again? Sam was now beginning to doubt that she could even go through with witnessing that again. Tucker, in a strange way, was going to have the blessing that this was his "first" time experiencing this.

But Danny's screams after that portal blast...those noises still haunted her.

"Uh, pretty good," she lied. She had to keep some semblance of composure. "I'm guessing if we just, ya know, set everything to exactly the way it was before, when it happened, that it'll happen again."

Her hands messed with the dials and buttons, pushing them to mirror the photo exactly.

"So, are you really sure about this?" Tucker finally spoke. She wasn't sure who he was speaking to, or if he was just talking aloud, but...No. She wasn't. Well, Sam had no doubt that it'd happen again. But everything else...

"No," Danny replied. "But...we all saw those things…"

"Somebody's gotta stop them," Tucker finished for him, giving a nod of understanding. Danny exhaled deeply, his shoulders drooping as he looked back at the portal.

"And apparently that somebody's gotta be me," he said. His gaze fixed on the inside of the portal. It was hauntingly dark in there, despite the bright lights of the lab. "...I know I always wanted to go in there." He stopped, his eyes roaming the outside structure before staring straight into the seemingly endless tunnel. "...I mean, who knows what kinds of awesome, super cool things exist on the other side of that portal once you get it working? But just…" His hand reached out to touch the outlining of the doors, letting his palm slide down the smooth surface slowly. "I'm…I'm not ready to die."

"You're not going to die," Sam told him. The boys looked to her, and she was clutching a white jumpsuit with touches of black. She held it up before tossing it to Danny. His hand reached up, and he caught it with ease before bringing it down to stare at it. "You just get ghost powers. It's super cool, I promise."

Danny stared down at the jumpsuit in his hands, running his thumbs over the material. He slowly began to shake his head no. He dropped the jumpsuit, putting his hands up.

"No," he whispered. "No. I-I can't. I can't, I'm, this, this is absolutely crazy. I can't do it. I won't do it." Sam's heart fell. She rushed forward to scoop the jumpsuit up.

"The world needs Danny Phantom!" she protested. Blue eyes stared coldly at her.

"Well, there's gonna have to be a new Danny Phantom, which, sorry, is a fucking dumb name anyway. Fenton, Phantom? That's so obvious," he scoffed. "I'm not doing this. I'm-I can't! It's crazy! A human with ghost powers is crazy!"

"It does sound kinda wack, Sam," Tucker agreed. Danny gestured wildly to Tucker while shooting Sam a dirty look. "It's so risky. I'm with Danny. I don't think he should go in."

Her hands clutched the suit tightly.

"But-"

"But you're asking me to risk my life," Danny cut her off. Her body turned cold and numb at the harsh reminder. "To get some kind of ghost powers, so I can do, well, what? Go and fight monsters, continue risking my life? Turn into this-this, if you're even right and I don't die, this mutated human freak with ghost powers?" His hands were going crazy as he talked, becoming more and more agitated. "Can I remind you that my parents are ghost hunters? And you want me, me, to do that? What good do I even get out of this deal? It, it, it fucking sucks. I'm not doing this. No dice, no deal."

"...You're right," she finally agreed. They shot her a skeptical look. Both expressions turned into looks of horror as she began to unzip the jumpsuit, putting her right foot into the suit.

"W-what are you doing?" Danny asked, narrowing his eyes at her. Sam stared up at him as she slipped the other foot in, pulling the suit up over her arms.

"Amity Park needs a half ghost hero," she told him. Her stomach turned into knots as the reality began to sink in, just as she pulled the zipper up to her mid-chest. She began to pull her hair up, making sure that it wasn't stuck under the suit before she finally zipped the rest up. "And you're right. It's not fair of me to ask you to make such a sacrifice, to trust somebody you barely know. But the world needs Danny Phantom. Whether it's the actual Danny Phantom, or just another half ghost hero...the humans need somebody to protect them. So I guess it's gonna be me."

Danny went from annoyed to horrified. Tucker paled.

"Y-you sure? It's crazy, it's so dangerous!" Tucker said. Sam shrugged, putting her hand on the side of the portal.

She took her first step in, taking a deep breath. She forced a smile to show to the others as she looked over her shoulder.

"Well...Somebody's gotta do it," she replied, and she began to walk in.

In her memories, Danny always kept his hand to the wall. And so she did the same. Letting her palm lightly brush against the wall as she walked slowly down, her eyes flickering around briefly but always kept on the empty void before her. How deep did it go? It couldn't be that deep. This was still a residential home. But it looked, and it certainly felt, endless. Before her, she could see what she thought was the end, but nothing was hap-

Her hand slid over something small, something that lightly pressed inwards with the faintest click that immediately sparked a loud, rumbling reaction. The darkness was instantly flooded away in bright, blinding white and green light.

She began to scream, and it slowly turned into pained wailing. It hurt. It hurt so bad. Danny had never mentioned just how much it hurt. Electricity shocked her, and the tingling felt like it'd never end. Sam had to get out. She had to get out, abort mission, abort mission. It hurt worse than anything else she had ever experienced. Her heart thudded like crazy as her head spun, and she reached out. For what, she didn't know, she just had to get out, and she felt something. She grabbed it, and she pulled herself forward.

Almost immediately she stumbled to her knees, bending over as one arm wrapped around her stomach and another clenched at her chest.

"O-o-oh my f-f-f-f-fucking g-go-od," Danny's trembling voice only barely registered to her. It hurt, it hurt.

Sam forced her eyes to open, and despite being blurred by tears, she could tell that she was kneeling on the familiar tiles of the FentonWorks lab. She could see Danny kneel next to her, putting a hand on her back, and hear Tucker rushing towards her.

"S-Sam?" Tucker's voice was shaky too. "Holy shit, are you okay?"

No, she wasn't okay, but she couldn't form any words. She just kept breathing heavily, feeling tears escape. Even those were painful, feeling like harsh shocks on her cheeks.

"Wait, s-so a-are you d-d-dead?" Danny asked. Sam finally focused on herself.

The jumpsuit she had put on had inverted colors, leaving her with white gloves. The jumpsuit was black. She took her hand off her stomach to grasp at her hair, pulling it into view. To her surprise, it was a light blue-purplish color. The portal must have inverted her natural hair color, a blonde-orange, instead of the dyed black she had.

"H-half," she clarified.

"What's going on down there?" Jack's voice boomed.

The three teens froze, and they looked at each other.

"Oh fuck, it's your dad. I gotta change back," Sam gasped. She reached out, grasping the front of Danny's shirt in her first. "I gotta change back to normal. Danny, how do I change back?" His eyes widened.

"Change back?" he repeated, absolutely baffled. "You can change ba-what? How? Uh, I dunno how!" His hands gestured frantically. "Ju-just? Uh, t-think about it? Or something!? I dunno!" Her eyes welled up with more tears, this time of frustration. Everything still was tingling.

"You were the half-ghost before," she half-cried.

"Sam, just relax," Danny tried to soothe her. He reached out to lightly stroke her hair, doing his best to comfort her. "Ju-just try thinking about it? Or at least calming down, what would calm you down? You know more than us."

"Guys?" Tucker interrupted them, his tone hitching up a few notches as the trio all heard Jack open the door, and begin to come down the stairs. Sam's breathing picked up rapidly. She had to change back, how was she supposed to change back? Why did she never ask Danny how he did the things he did? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Sam felt Danny wrap an arm around her back, pulling her to him. She allowed herself to be pulled into his chest in a tight hug. He kissed her forehead, and Sam finally felt her muscles relax as the electrical tingling died down.

"Chill, it's okay." Surprisingly, he didn't sound so scared or anxious. Whether he had pulled it together for her or the relief of not having to take on the ghost powers finally hitting him, it was what she needed. "Just take a deep breath." Sam did just that. "Think about changing back."

Jack stepped down into the lab to the odd sight. His son's best friend looking like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, staring straight at him with wide eyes and visible sweat. His son was cradling a girl he didn't recognize, in a skirt and tank top with purple leggings and boots. Jack frowned.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded to know. "Danny, have you been messing with the portal? You could have been killed. You and I are going to have a talk. Tucker!" The geek made a frightened "eep!" sound. "Get on home, I won't tell your parents." The pale-faced geek needed nothing else, and he quickly began to rush up the stairs. "And you!" His attention directed to a fully human-looking Sam. "Who the hell are you?"

Sam pulled away from Danny, feeling her cheeks flush hard as she struggled to think. Her muscles ached, and her head was willing her.

"Um, I'm...Paulina?" she said slowly.

"Danny's not allowed to see you anymore, Paulina. You need to go home," Jack told her with a deep frown.

Sam felt too tired to be proud of her own move, or even smile. She nodded slowly, and she tried to get up. Her legs felt too weak.

Danny, thankfully, seemed to notice, as he scrambled to his feet and offered a hand out to her. She accepted it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"Uh, lemme walk...Paulina out," Danny said. Jack motioned for them to shoo, his eyes focused on the operating portal as he walked past them to fully examine it. His eyes followed his dad, and he leaned in to whisper in Sam's ear, "Can you walk?"

Sam hesitantly took a step forward. She was immediately shaky.

"...I dunno," she admitted.

"Here, lemme-" Danny cut himself off as he wrapped an arm around her waist. They began to walk together up the stairs, slowly. "Do you want me to walk you home?" She shook her head.

"I'll call my mom and have her come get me," she replied. The idea of walking the several blocks home right now made her want to die. Even with assistance. Danny nodded.

"We can wait in the living room," he told her, and he took her to exactly there, carefully helping her to sink comfortably into the couch. Sam sighed deeply in relief at the comfortable cushioning, and she pulled her cellphone out.

Danny took a seat next to her on the couch. He said nothing as Sam had to not only quietly request her mom to pick her up, but explain where she was and lie about why she was there. The only bright side, it seemed, to all of this was that her parents had no reason (yet) to hate the Fentons.

She hung up, putting her phone back into her skirt's pocket, and she leaned into the cushions with a deep sigh as she closed her eyes.

"...Um...Sam?" Danny squeaked. She lazily opened her eyes, glancing down to see that her legs were invisible. She sighed, reaching for a throw blanket to toss over them for now. Figuring that out was not on her list of priorities right now. "...Is that going to uh...happen a lot?" She gave a disheartened hum.

"Probably," she slurred out.

"...So you really...everything you said was true."

Sam glanced at him before nodding.

"...Yeah."

"...I still don't remember it."

"We'll fix it," Sam promised. She held her hand out for him to take, and he accepted it. She squeezed his hand. "Before you know it, or well, remember it, it'll be back to the way things were."

"Will you still be half ghost? Like instead of me?" Danny asked. She shrugged. He looked down at their hands. "...We were dating, weren't we?" Her face flushed darkly, and she shook her head. He frowned. "But, what? We had to be."

"No, we were only best friends," Sam clarified, feeling her heart tingle once more. His hand squeezed hers.

"But just...," He shifted in his seat a bit to better face her, letting go of her hand in the process. His elbow rested on the back of the couch. "There was almost this...like, connection, and I dunno, it just really kind of felt like I knew you my whole life, and stuff, and...I dunno."

"We'll figure it out," she assured him with a light smile. "I gotta say, I don't really know like...what the game plan is after this. So I'm just gonna have to make it up as I go. But we can do it. We've done it like, hundreds of times before. We totally got this."

Sam felt her phone beginning to vibrate, and she immediately pulled it out. It was her mom, and she answered.

"Hey, Mom...Yeah it's the big FentonWorks signs...Yeah, yeah, it's super hard to miss...I'll tell you specifically on the way home, I'm headed outside now so you can see me...Alright, love you too. Later."

She hung the phone up, and she pulled the blanket off her legs. Thankfully, they were visible, and she pulled herself to her feet. Sam still felt a bit wobbly, but it wasn't nearly as bad as earlier.

"Here." Danny sprung up from the couch to link his arm with hers, helping her walk to the front door. As they reached the front door, she slowly pulled away from him, motioning for him to stay.

"Uh, I got it from here. I really don't want my mom to think that I was here for you, she'd never let me live it down," Sam said. He nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, my dad will probably hassle me about having a girl over," he sighed. Sam flinched.

"Are you really gonna be in trouble for this?" she asked. Danny shook his head.

"Nah, once my dad can see that the portal's open, he'll likely forget all about it," he grinned, but it dropped. "Just uh, stay safe, okay."

"I will," she promised. She opened the front door, seeing her mom's familiar car parked across the street. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

She gave him a final smile, and she slipped out of the Fenton home. The new half-ghost closed the door behind her, and with a slightly pained sigh, made her way to her mom's car to head on home.

#sam manson #halfa!sam #danny fenton #tucker foley #phic phight #danny phantom #my phics #phics #okay but this was legit one of my top favorite prompts and super fun to write #i hope others like it to #I may write more post-the phic phight but for now this is what y'all get

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