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#hopefully it was worth the wait
basicallyjaywalker · 1 month
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Trying To Make Something Out of Clay
It only took me getting back at school to finish editing this! I am not kidding good grief
Anyways! At long last @cboffshore I deliver you: JAY! my specialty
Prompt: Jay, Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham, eagle, fastidious, pardon, clay, separation, earthquake, and protest
AO3 Link
Fic also under the cut!
Pottery classes wouldn’t have been Jay’s first idea for a birthday gift to himself, but he could never dodge his mother’s chipper voice in his head. 
Coupons! They’re like an excuse to do things. Always keep your eyes out for the real deals… From there, she’d go into a spiel about good versus bad deals, ones designed to make you spend money rather than save it, and eventually that would develop into discussions of unit prices and store brands and what-have-you about “mother’s know-how.” 
All that to say, when the coupon came in for “Free Pottery Lessons!” with the purchase of a starter pack, Jay knew how to calculate the value. Cost was the starter pack, lessons would cover all of the basics of pottery, he would be able to make more cool gifts for his friends and family… worth it. Plus, the studio said once he finished his lessons, he was still welcome to come back and use their equipment to mold and fire the clay. Plus plus, if he decided he didn’t like it, he could always use the clay and tools in the starter kit for another project. No matter what, there wasn’t a way to lose! His mom would be so proud. 
And that was how he ended up sitting in front of a clay-stained table, almost a month after his birthday, sculpting. Now Nya’s birthday was coming up and he was making her a seagull figurine. Unfortunately, they hadn’t gotten to the “figurine” part in his basics classes, so Jay was having to wing it with what he knew. However, what he knew seemed to be very lumpy and not very gull-like. 
He frowned, examining the vaguely bird-shaped lump of clay on the table. Its legs were short and thick, holding the uneven, bulbous body up off the table. Jay had thought he made wings, but they seemed to be lost within the sinking mass. The head was little more than a drooping oval, the end of which molded into the torso much too high up (or maybe this gull's neck was just in the middle of its spine). 
… Yeah, he couldn’t pass this off as a seagull. He could barely pass it off as a bird. Maybe he should just make Nya something else.
 Just as he reached to put his tools up, the studio door opened behind him and he spun around to see his teacher, Kat, in her clay stained apron.
“Ah, pardon me,” She smiled at him and raised her hand in a wave, it was stained reddish orange, “just grabbin’ somethin’ for my next group. Whatcha makin’?”
“Something for Nya,” Jay said, trying to shield the misshapen heap from her view. The light-up grin on Kat’s face told him he failed. 
“What a lovely turtle! I’m sure she’ll love it.”
“It’s supposed to be a seagull.”
“Oh.” 
Jay sighed. “Yeah, we’re not quite there yet.”
“Well,” she clapped her hands together, sending a few splatters of rust-colored clay flying, ”trust the process! It’ll turn out swell, I’m sure. Do you need a reference?”
“That might help,” was what he said out loud. What he thought was, I know what a seagull looks like. I don’t think looking at another one is going to help. Still, he managed to hold his tongue. As much as he liked Kat, some days, her teaching just bugged him. She always went on about “the process.” Trust the process! Everything looks bad until it’s done! Sometimes, it even looks bad after, it’s just the artist's way. 
As she left the room, Jay continued ruminating on that idea. Trust the process. He stared at the ugly lump on his table. He wasn’t sure “the process” could save this one. Still, he supposed giving it a try was better than giving up. 
Frowning, he tried to fix the head, adding some clay to make it rounder, more… sharp? Less like a turtle. A few globs there, a dab here, some shaping… hey! Now that was a seagull. The legs could use some carving, but they were sleeker now; he could actually make out the shape of wings in the blobby body, and the neck wasn’t coming out of the middle of the spine! Jay could almost envision the thing trying to steal his french fries on the beach, as long as he was squinting really, really hard. Slowly, he drew his hands away.
Immediately, the head drooped and detached from the rest of the body.
“Oh, come on!” Jay exclaimed just as Kat walked back in and interrupted what was about to be a long string of words about the clay, gravity, and the concept of seagulls in general. In her hands she cradled a majestic gull perched on a rock, caught mid-caw.
“This is from one of our old students. She left it here and never came back, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you used it as reference.”
“Thanks.” Jay took the figurine and examined it. It was a simple shape, lots of round circles, and some small details for the wings and feet. It looked easy enough to make. Looked being the keyword. 
Kat looked at the self-decapitated bird and tilted her head. “Fix-it attempt gone horribly, horribly wrong?”
He nodded, pursing his lips. 
“You’ll get it,” she said, spirited as ever, “it just takes some time to master, y’know? New skills and all that.”
He nodded again. She’d told him the same thing during his first few lessons, when the teacup he tried to make for Master Wu ended up looking more like a soup bowl made by an avant-garde artiste. He knew she was right, it was just the way learning went, but it didn’t stop the nagging irritation he felt staring at the pathetic pile of muddy material in front of him. 
“I’ve gotta get my next class started, lemme know if you need anything else.”
One last nod and Kat was gone, leaving him alone again. Jay sat down and continued to stare at the distended body. He placed his new reference next to it and felt the minute bit of confidence that sprouted from his forming gull fly away. 
Maybe he could pass his off as a seagull that went through a tsunami or earthquake. Then again, that felt a little too morbid. Maybe a mutant seagull, left alive to propagate his species after a nuclear apocalypse wiped out the rest, save for him and the perfect specimen sat beside him, a symbol of a simpler time? 
No, that was too far-fetched. 
Sighing, Jay figured his best way out was to start from scratch. He pushed the majestic reference gull out of the blast radius before slamming his fist down on his failure. The wet clay gave easily under the force, body and head merging into one flat, knuckle-imprinted puddle. Jay knew it wasn’t necessary—and rather messy—to do it this way, but it allowed him some sort of catharsis. That alone made it worth the bit of splash onto his apron and face. 
Now, he could start again. 
His hands started to shape the clay, eyes focused on the reference as he tried to imitate the product in front of him. He didn’t need the rock, just the bird. That was enough of a change to keep it from being plagiarism, right? Could you plagiarize a clay sculpture?
As he worked, his mind wandered. Initially, it was just about the concept of plagiarism and if copying the reference counted. He was pretty sure he watched a video recently on that. Could one plagiarize an artstyle the same way they plagiarized research? Then it moved to the feeling of the clay. It squished under his hands like mud, but held like a sand castle. He used to build sand castles in his yard, when he was too young to help his parents build their various projects. His mom would give him a water bottle and tell him his job was to make a palace for the nearby ants to live in. Jay took his job very seriously, working fastidiously far after his parents went inside and even when Edna tried to call him in for dinner. He never truly mastered the art, despite various attempts to mimic the grandiose castles he saw in the storybooks his father used to lull him to sleep. His castles always ended up a solid mound. No doors, no windows, and definitely no rooms where the creatures nearby could rest. 
Well, that little memory didn’t bode well for this project. 
Jay clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus on the task at hand, but still his thoughts swirled about his head like a storm. He was good at so many things, how come castles and seagulls outsmarted him? He was an inventor, for First’s sake! Sure, he fell out of practice recently, but he’d done it his whole life! Surely no one loses skills that fast, right? All his years of practice should amount to something, should translate to making a clay bird? But wires and gears and cogs were so much different than clay. They were rigid, fixed. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle and always worked as intended. They were predictable. Clay wasn’t like that. It morphed not only under the weight of its creator’s hands, but under its own. Sometimes, it held its shape perfectly, strong like a tree in a storm. Other times, as Jay experienced over his time learning to sculpt pots and cups, it drooped or flattened or folded itself over like a cloud rolling over the horizon. Capricious, that’s the word he would use to describe it. Clay was capricious.
Okay, maybe inventing wasn’t his best comparison. He rifled through his skills toolbox again. An art form would serve better as a comparison. Painting? Paints could be difficult too. When he first started learning, driven by the small pieces his father used to make of the night sky, he hated it. The paints always turned to a muddy mess on his canvases, leading him to ruin more than one still-wet attempt by throwing it into the sand. He only got the hang of it after sitting down with his dad one day, both of them looking to capture a gorgeous eagle that landed in their junkyard. It was rare to see them in the Sea of Sands, as they preferred the shores of Ninjago more, but here this one was, perched on a pile of scrap his dad pulled out for a project the day before. At first, Jay didn’t understand why his dad had a sketchbook and pencil out or why he took a picture of the bird. Instead, Jay went straight to trying to capture its glossy feathers and curved beak, only to be vexed when the browns and whites he was using merged into one murky beige. He tried to fix it, but the problem only worsened until, with a yell, he scribbled over the whole thing in black. The commotion frightened the bird away, which only served to heighten Jay’s frustration. Great. Great! The bird was gone. Now he had to remember what it looked like to try and paint it again. 
That was when his father picked up his painting, examining the mess he made. He commented on how they would have to repurpose the canvas for something else and Jay felt a hot flush of shame hit his cheeks. He apologized for his outburst, but his dad just patted his head and sat with him. He explained how painting wasn’t just about putting paint on the canvas, but how you needed a sketch to start with so you could have an idea of how to make the picture by hand, how to plan your layers so your colors wouldn’t all mix, and how to control your brush so there were no stray bumps in the smooth lines. Jay still didn’t fully get it, but this time he actually finished the painting. It was rough, looking closer to a pigeon than an eagle, but it was dry and not covered in sand. His dad hung it up in their living room. 
Maybe Jay could draw on his painting skills. Paint was finicky, often felt like it had a mind of its own. Surely, there was something within this childhood memory that could help him out now?
Splat.
The noise roused Jay from his thoughts. In his daydreaming, he’d pulled the neck of the gull out too thin and the head—which was just a little bead at the end of the spaghetti string—now drooped on the table. 
Dammit. 
Jay squished the horror noodle back into the body and checked his watch. The place closed in an hour. He’d made no progress. His deadline wasn’t imminent (Nya’s birthday wasn’t for another few weeks) but it still weighed heavy on his mind. He wanted to get something done today, before Kat asked him to clean up. There was no telling when an attack on Ninjago might drag him away from this, swallowing his time and bringing the date closer and closer until he was forced to rush the project to completion.
Change of plans. He wasn’t good at sculpting, but he wasn’t willing to switch to painting. He was going to make the most of this studio and his work so far. He was good at engineering. He stared at the clay. This gull wasn’t a sculpture, it was a… a machine! Like Zane’s Falcon. Yeah, he could work with that.
First step of the process, separate the parts. Separation was easy, since the limbs of this bird seemed intent on breaking apart. There was the head, the wings, the feet, the torso… he could break those down further! The head had eyes, a beak, feathers on top? Little hairs? Whatever. The point was, he could break it down. He could maybe get somewhere with that.
What next? He had the parts, now he had to figure out how they fit together. The bird needed a base, otherwise its feet would be too small for its body (or alternatively, to support itself its feet would need to be comically large, which must’ve been why the original had a rock base). Then, the torso rested on the feet. The wings then melded to the torso, becoming almost part of it. The head was connected by the neck, which needed to be enough to set it apart from the body, but not too long and skinny that it would fall. That’s where his issue was. The first-forsaken neck. Solve that, he solved the whole thing.
Maybe he was a genius. Maybe he’d finally cracked the code! …Okay, maybe he already knew that was the problem, but breaking it down helped! The storm in his brain calmed and he could focus his attention on the task at hand: fixing this stupid bird before Kat—
“Hey, Jay!”
Are you kidding me?
Kat bounded over, her apron, arms, and even parts of her face stained orangish brown with clay. She grinned from ear to ear as she settled back into her spot across from Jay. “How’s it going?”
“Eh, fine. I’m just trying to figure out how to make the neck work.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I can’t figure out how to make it look like a neck, y’know? Like… How do birds even function? I know their necks aren’t super complicated, but it’s like I put the head on and it all goes splat!”
“Have you been using an armature?” 
“...what?” 
Kat burst into giggles. “You’ve not been using an armature this entire time? It’s what helps the clay keep its shape. You’ve been freeballing it?”
“I didn’t know!” Jay protested. This whole time he’d been missing a key part of the body—robotic, flesh, or clay—skeleton! Muscles! That’s why the stupid bird kept self-decapitating! It had no bones! How hadn’t I realized?!
Kat leaned over, examining the bird while Jay’s face cycled through shades of red. “Well, in that case, as an act of freestanding feathered figurine formation, you haven’t done a half bad job.” She held her hand out. “And if you can come back tomorrow, I’ll show you how to make a wire armature. Then, we can get you going on this project, for real this time. Deal?”
“I’ll try to make it.” Jay sighed and held his hand out, still covered in clay. “Deal.”
After a messy handshake, Jay washed, put away his tools, gathered his things, and left. The late afternoon sun hung lazily above the horizon, not ready to dip fully out of sight, leaving the sky a brilliant, cloudless azure. The golden light reflected off the lush zelkova trees that lined the sidewalk outside, turning the leaves chartreuse. Crickets chirped quietly at their feet and in their branches, warming up for their song later in the evening. Other than that, the streets were quiet. Warm rays hit his face and he sighed. In the distance, he could smell something cooking, maybe a barbecue in the residential area a few blocks over? His stomach growled. It really was time for him to head home.
Tomorrow, he’d come back and make an armature. Then, that stupid bird would finally come into form. 
All things considered, Jay figured he made good on that coupon. Free figurine lessons! And he didn’t even have to buy a second kit. Plus, something about working, letting his thoughts roam free… Jay wasn’t sure what it was, but he was excited to go back there soon, and there wasn’t much more to say about that.
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Damien was not proud to say that, when he first heard the noise, he had been baffled at what it could be. It was beautiful, strung together and structured with all the planned grace of his favorite sword. It was not until the women started singing that he realized that what he had been listening to was music. Sure, he understood in theory what music was, had been taught the word and understood the basic principles that governed it, but he was an assassin. There was no reason for him to need music, and so like all superfluous things Damien had simply never been exposed to it. Nor had he ever sought it out. Still, he found himself being drawn forward
Before him was a stage much like those he’d seen in photos of old theater houses, the bright overhead lights casting a down in strange colors with no name. At the center of the stage was a woman. She wore odd clothing resembling a superhero costume, though without any identifiable armor, and her face was painted with swirls of black that differed from any makeup he’d ever seen. She had the look of anyone of this realm. Her skin was mottled and hair burned a phosphorus blue, eyes glowing like the Lazarus pits. Damien did not recognize the instrument in her hands, but the sound it made was… enchanting. From his place in the empty audience, Damien found himself swaying ever so slightly.
“Little boy
Why are you here?
So far from the world you hold dear
Oh kid
Quite your spying
Don’t you know you are dying?
Does your mother know
You’re playing with ghosts?
Does your father see
Your liminality?”
“So you finally got a new song?”
A soft hand hand lands on his shoulder and Damien starts. He doesn’t remember the last time someone snuck up on him like that. He looks at the person who so rudely interrupted the performance. Phantom stares at the woman on the stage with something resembling anger.
“What? You like it Babypop?”
“That’s KING Babypop to you, Ember.”
The woman, Ember, laughs. Phantom’s grip tightens and Damien hears a low growl radiating from his chest. He glances down, the worry radiating from him like heat from the noon day sun.
“Hey,” Phantom says, “you wandered off. Everything good?”
Damien stiffens; it suddenly occurred to him he may in fact have done something wrong by leaving on his own without any sort of warning to follow the ephemeral melody.
“Yes. I was merely listening to the music. She is very good, I’ve never heard anything so lovely.”
“Don’t tell her that, she’ll never let me hear the end of it.” Phantom grinned. He glanced back to Ember, clearly calculating what to say next. “Do you want to keep listening?”
Damien nodded mutely. Ember took this as her cue to begin playing again. Phantom took him by the hands and began guiding him closer to the stage.
“Do you know how to dance?”
“No”
“Would you like to learn?”
“I can’t see what possible purpose it could have.”
“Absolutely none.” He said, pulling Damien around so that they where face to face, “here, stand on my feet”
“Will that not hurt?”
“I’m a lot sturdier than I look.”
Damien followed his instructions and Phantom guided him through the basic steps of what he would later learn was called a waltz. They stayed like that, stepping and spinning to the melody for the better part of the day. Occasionally Ember would switch up the tempo, and Phantom would have to show him new steps, until finally he stepped back and began dancing on his own.
“Come on,” he encouraged, “Don’t worry about the form, just follow the melody, same as before.”
“I am not yet ready.”
Phantom smile, a sort of boundless sorrow hidden just beneath the surface.
“No one ever is.”
…………………………..…………………………..………………
To say Dick Greyson was nervous would be the understatement of the century. If asked why, Dick would probably be hard pressed to explain why the thought of meeting his second brother’s new partner was as absolutely nerve wracking as it was, although he was fairly sure it had something to do with the fact B seemed to be dead set on treating this as an interrogation. Not even the standard well meaning but ultimately misled, “explain everything about yourself and if I get so much as a hint you’re not good for him they’ll never find the body”, type interrogation. No, an actual, criminal interrogation. To be fair, given he was dating Jayling, the odds were Danny was involved in at least some sort of criminal activity, but that was to be expected. Probably not a great way of thinking for a cop, but so long as he kept out of Bludhaven; not his monkeys, not his circus.
Really, it wasn’t that Dick didn’t understand why B was acting this way. Danny was, after all, an unknown, something Dick knew his adopted father couldn’t abide in much the same way he couldn’t abide sunlight and injustice. If they could just find something, anything that told them this guy had a life prior to coming to Gotham than maybe he would feel less like a threat. As it was, even Dick had to admit he was antsy. Still, he had to respect the skill with which Danny had so far avoided their questions. He could see what Little wing saw in this guy.
That was it really. Jay bird saw something in this guy and for all his anxiety and suspicion, Dick still respected that. If anything, this proved to make him more nervous. Jas was flighty. Getting him to agree to do anything with the family was an uphill battle of mammoth proportions generally only achieved by the likes of Alfred, but he had agreed to bring Danny to dinner so they could meet him. Moreover, he had agreed to come to the manor specifically. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he’d come here without actively bleeding out. Dick wasn’t so self centered to think Jayjay was coming back just for little old him. This was because they had been harassing Danny and he wanted it to stop. Of course, if it had just been that they would have just met on a rooftop, so Jay must honestly want Danny to meet his family and see his childhood home, and wasn’t that terrifying. It felt as if Dick were walking on egg shells, knowing a single wrong step could be the end of whatever faith he had put in them.
There was another, deeper fear that they would, somehow, scare Danny away entirely. They weren’t exactly the easiest people to deal with, long term. Jas deserved people; to feel loved and wanted in a way he understood and reciprocated. He would never forgive them if they took that away from them. Moreover, Dick would never forgive himself. It boiled his blood that B was willing to put all of that at risk to calm his fears.
This is why, when the knock finally came, Dick found himself quite literally tripping over himself trying to get to the door. Luckily, his training kept him from landing all that hard, and with a quick forward motion he rolled himself back to his feet. By this time Alfie had, of course somehow beaten him to the door despite definitely being in the kitchen mere moments ago. There in the door frame, standing next to his wonderful baby bird, who looked about ready to punch someone, was the man Dick knew must be Danny. It occurred to him suddenly that he had never seen him up close before, given that all cameras seemed to be unable to get a good image of him. Besides his obvious adoption bait traits (Dick was probably going to have to have a TALK with B later), he looked… well… he looked odd, but not in a way that immediately made sense. He was thin, sure, upsettingly so and it took all the self control bestowed by his Robin training not to pick him up and take him straight to the dining room, but his skeletal frame wasn’t it, not exactly. There was something to him, to the sharpness of his teeth when he smiled, the fluid bend of his limbs and neck as if  unimpeded by joints or bones, the absolute depth of his eyes and the silence of his steps that seemed terribly wrong and absolutely familiar. He reminded him of Dami.
See, Dick Greyson was a lot of things; an acrobat; ex-boy wonder, current detective-extraordinaire; eldest daughter syndrome poster boy; and easily the hottest Wayne; but for all his acting, he was not an idiot. He may not be a genius on the level of, say, Tim, and he still didn't get how Cass did her whole “definitely not mind-reading” bit, but he had experience. He was bright in his own right, and he knew his family, maybe better than they knew themselves. When Dami first came to the manor, back when they were strangers and his threats meant something, he’d been… feral. Dams was still feral, but he’d improved; he’d become more human, less… whatever else he was that led him to hiss and bite and scratch with claws too sharp to be human. Whatever made the air around him so oppressive when he was angry or frightened. At first, Dick had assumed he was a meta of some kind, but a quick genetic panel (and what a thought that the idea of running and reading a genetic analysis had become so straightforward he could probably do it in his sleep) had shown that, besides the honesty concerning levels of Lazarus water in his system, there was nothing which he could see that would make him anything but a standard human. He’d asked Dami before, but he’d only said he was “the son of Batman and heir of Al Ghul, of course his steps were silent and his movements fluid,” completely ignoring the rest of his concerns. Dick hadn’t pushed. It wasn’t his place. As long as he was safe and happy, Dami could keep whatever weird-kid secrets he pleased. Then Danny hugged him, and Dick wondered if maybe this was his concern after all.
The dining room they moved into was not the private one usually used for these dinners but the great one reserved for parties. Dick rolled his eyes. Of course, B would insist on this room. Intimidation was key, apparently. Dick wondered when precisely the others were planning on arriving. Being late was not unusual in this family, much to Alfred’s eternal displeasure, but keeping Jayling and B from going for each other’s throats was becoming increasingly difficult. Having more people wouldn’t necessarily help, but it would spread out the attention. Dick wished B would kindly take a hint and back off. He didn't like something in the way Danny and Jay were acting. It felt too familiar. Too much like the way he acted when trying to keep his siblings from learning something he knew would inevitably hurt them; the dodging, misdirecting, and a look of absolute fear he had suppressed almost every day for the last ten-odd years. They knew something, and whatever it was, Dick was willing to bet his last box of cereal it was about Dami. So when he asked how exactly Jas and Danny had met, it had less to do with his own genuine curiosity and more to do with changing the subject right now.
“Ancients,” Danny started, “I’m pretty sure the first time we met was… the auto shop?”
…………………………..…………………………..………………
It was pitch black out when Jason arrived at the shop. He’d heard about it in the usual way, words whispered in dark corners amongst people with downturned eyes and who spoke in quiet voices. The building itself was unassuming, located at the very edge of Crime Alley where the city began to fall away. The worn bricks were painted with graffiti; strange and winding shapes of no recognizable language or culture. Jason couldn't help but feel that if he just stared long enough, he could read the messages left there facing the street. There was a neon green sign above the door. It read,
“ Vehicles, appliances, and more!
You break it, I can fix it!”
Something about the color reminded him unavoidably of a certain toxic pit. Jason did his best to shake that off. He needed to be here. See, the word on the street was that the sign didn’t pull any punches, that the Mechanic, as he’d come to be known, really could fix anything you could break, be it mechanical, medical, mental, or even spiritual. His next-door neighbor, Synthia, claimed he’d helped her with her “ghost problem,” fixed her stove, and saved her house plants to boot. The man on the corner selling samosas said he’d ended his nightmares, which he’d had every night for the past thirty years. One lady even claimed he cured her cancer. All of the stories had two things in common. One, there was a young man they called the Mechanic with dark hair and blue eyes. In Gotham, that wasn't exactly much to go off of, given the city’s disproportionate number of people fitting that description. The second bit was more interesting. People said that the Mechanic used a kind of barter system. You could pay cash for most things, but if you either couldn't afford it or the service was particularly unusual, he’d ask for other things. Favors, mostly, sometimes stories or promises. Even trinkets, if that was all you could afford. The general consensus seemed to be that he preferred things with strong emotional connections. Folks seemed split on whether this guy was an angel or the devil.
Even the building itself was suspicious. For all the wear and tear apparent, he had it on good authority it hadn’t existed until about three months ago. There was no paperwork for the lot, no signs of an owner, and no records for the business itself. Hell, the place didn't even show up on Google Maps. The whole deal screamed illegality. So, a building that didn’t exist, a business with no name, and an owner who was apparently a miracle man. It had been a pain in the ass to find the place. Jason didn't know how he had gotten lost in this town where he’d lived almost all of his life.
There were no hours on the door, but when he turned the knob he found it unlocked. The door creaked loudly.
“Huh, guess he can’t fix everything after all.”
“Maybe I just like it that way.”
Jason started. Maybe he was getting rusty because he had been absolutely sure the room was empty. That or the man in front of him could just walk more quietly than any Bat besides maybe Cass. He certainly fit the description of the Mechanic, however vague it may be. Messy black hair, silver-blue moon eyes. He was... Beautiful. Etherial. He looked like the kind of guy people wrote poems about. When he walked, he moved with the grace of a dancer. He didn't look like a mechanic, but his skin and clothes were stained with motor oil.
“Long time no see,” the man smiled.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Guess not,” he said. His voice was comforting, like the sound of old cartoons playing in the next room on a rainy day. The guy could make a killing as an ASMR YouTuber. “What can I do for you?”
“I,” Jason knew his story, but part of him was struggling with the feeling that he was betraying an old friend, “I wreaked my bike.”
“Ok, I can fix that.”
“What’s your price?”
“For you? Hmm...” He tapped his chin with a long clawlike nail. Jason couldn’t imagine how he kept his nails so long while working with machines. “How ‘bout... Lunch.”
“Lunch?”
“I don't have to stay around or anything, just drop off some food when you come back for your bike and we’ll call it even.”
“You realize we’re talking about a good $750 repair job at least, right? We’re not just talking about an oil change.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“I live in Crime Alley, pretty sure that means I already owe you my life.” the man’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling, “Or well, whatever it is I’m doing”
Jason snorted.
“Trust me, you don’t owe me shit.”
“Don't I get a say in that?”
“Alright, fine, be indebted if you want. Free bike repair for me. What do you want to eat?”
“As long as it’s dead by the time it gets here, I couldn't care less.”
“That’ll make two of us.”
“Three.”
The man’s eyes flashed a familiar green, and Jason braced himself for an attack but none came. Looking at him, Jason saw none of the anger he associated with that color. If anything, he looked... Sad.
“Who are you?”
“The name’s Phantom, but most folks here know me as Danny Nightengale.”
“What? Your real name say a bad word?”
“Guess you could say that.”
Jason left after that, but he came back the next day. He brought empanadas, which they ate together on the sidewalk just outside. The work on the bike was a masterpiece, especially given the time it took. Jason came back again later. And again. And again.
“My fridge’s busted and won't stop making ice.”
“There’s a mole in my gang and I’m not sure who it is.”
“My helmet broke.”
“I got shot.”
“My head hurts.”
“My heart hurts.”
His reply was always the same.
“Ok, I can fix that.”
The next time Jason came to the shop (he still didn't know the name) it was sunset, he was covered in blood, both his and not, and all he could see was green. Tear tracks cut through the red. He threw his helmet to the wayside where it sent a precarious stack of papers flying.
“Hey, Hood. Long time no see.”
Danny looked how he always did. If he noticed the blood, he didn’t show it.
“What can I do for you?”
“Please,” Jason begged, “It’s the Pits, I...”
He fell to his knees, body shaking from the force of silent sobs.
“...I just want to be ok.”
Danny dropped down next to him, cupped his face so gently as if he might just break, and did his best to wipe away his tears, with the corner of his sleeve. Jason cried harder. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone has held him so carfully. Had they ever?
“Ok”
Then Danny plunged his hand into Jason’s chest. He froze, the cold sensation of clawed hands grasping at his very soul shocking him to his core. It was unlike anything he’d felt before, and as quickly as it started it was over. Danny pulled back. Grasped in his hands was a writhing black mass, like earthworms fat from eating their kin. Then he opened his mouth, much wider than any human ever could, and Jason watched in horror as he ate it whole and struggling. Then Danny cupped his hands together, a strange green liquid that looked horribly like the Lazarus Pits, if a bit brighter and not bubbling angrily the way they should, filling them. He plunged his hands and the liquid back into Jason’s chest, though this time he could only feel a vague tingling chill.
“What the Hell?”
Jason wasn’t sure how else to react to what he had just seen.
“This,” Danny said, indicating with a nod to his hands, still very much in Jason’s chest cavity, “is pure ectoplasm. It should help clear out the last of the corruption. Think of it like dialysis; I clear out the bad stuff and replace it with something clean.”
“What corruption?”
“The corrupted ectoplasm in your system? I’m pretty sure that was clouding your head and messing with your emotions.”
“You... Got rid of the Pits. You... Ate them.”
Jason wasn’t sure how to process this.
“I guess? A rose by any name and all that.”
He withdrew his hands. Suddenly Jason felt very empty. Emotionally, he was drained, and he was pretty sure he was still in shock from what had just happened, but more than that, Jason’s head was uncharacteristically quiet. There was no rush of blood, no bubbling murmur corrupting his thoughts, no green tinting the corners of his vision. It was just... Him. A cool rag touched his face. At some point, Danny must have stood up and gotten a damp washcloth to clean the blood. When had that happened? Golden sunlight streamed in from the glass door, casting soft shadows and making a moon of Danny’s face, his pale skin glowing in the reflection of the setting sun.
“Who are you?”
“Danny Phantom, remember? You know me.”
“No,” Jason paused, “I mean, what are you?”
“What are you?”
Jason wasn’t sure how to answer that. A dead kid with daddy issues and a gun fixation? A ghost of Robins’ past? A zombie? A fucking mess? Suddenly, a blinding light haloed Danny, spreading from his middle and passing over him. When his vision finally cleared, he saw Danny, greyed skin and vibrant green eyes haloed by glowing white hair which floated as if unbound by gravity. He looked like an angel. Something untouchably beautiful and impossibly holy. He smiled, and his teeth were as long and sharp as a deep sea predator.
“I’m a halfa.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Honestly? Not much. It's sorta a slang term for someone who's both alive and dead.”
“How does that work?”
“Well sometimes I’ve got one foot in the grave, and sometimes I’ve got the other foot outta it.”
“Is that what I am?”
“Not quite. As far as I can tell, you’re a revenant.”
“And here I thought I was just a plain old zombie.”
“Oh trust me, if you were a zombie, you’d know.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“It's kinda my job.”
“I wasn’t aware a working knowledge of the undead was a requirement for mechanics.”
“What can I say? I’m just good at what I do.”
“Speaking of which,” Jason said, “any idea what I owe you for literally giving me back my sanity?”
“Ancients... I don’t know.”
“I’ve got an idea... How about...”
They both paused, Danny halting what he was doing to listen to what Jason had to say, the rag in his hand now thoroughly saturated with blood, harsh red against snow white. Jason wasn’t sure what it said about him that he found the sight of his blood on his hands so attractive, but damn. Before he had time to think about it, Jason peeled his sweat-soaked leather gloves from his fingers and took those ivory hands in his. God, they were cold. It was like holding ice. If he kissed him, would his lips freeze to his skin? Would they ever come apart, or would they stay connected forever? Jason was starting to suspect he might be a little hysterical from shock and exhaustion.
“My heart.”
“...What?”
“You gave me my head, let me give you my heart.”
Danny opened and shut his mouth, gaping like a fish seemingly at a loss for words.
“You don't have to do that.”
“No,” Jason said, “no I don't. Hell, the truth is I’m ripping you off if you accept, ‘cause I’d just be paying you something that's already yours.”
“Ok,” Danny nodded.
“Deal?”
“Yeah, deal.”
It wasn’t clear who moved first, but the two met in a kiss. Sharp teeth knicked Jason’s lips, soothed by cool saliva. Danny’s hands, so frail looking, gripped his wrists as unyielding as iron cord. Overhead, the electric light flared, popped, and burned out. The sun had long since set, and the only light was Danny’s otherworldly glow. They sat there for a long time, neither speaking. Finally, they got up and together stepped into the rest of their afterlives.
…………………………..…………………………..………………
“Oh,” Dick asked, “you work in an auto shop?”
“Well, sorta,” Danny shrugged, “It's my shop. I’ll fix up just about anything, but yeah, I get a lot of cars and bikes.”
“Babe, calling what you do “repairs” is like calling Supes a pencil sharpener.”
Danny waved his hand dismissively.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
By then, Alfred had served the salad course, making the rest of the siblings officially late. Danny eyed the salad, a rose vinaigrette with summer greens, as if expecting it to bite. Dick couldn’t help feeling personally offended on behalf of Alfie’s cooking. Finally, after poking it a couple of times with his fork, Danny seemed to decide it was in fact edible and began eating with the speed and ferocity of someone starving. Watching him, Dick couldn’t help but feel deeply uncomfortable as Danny unhinged his jaw and consumed the salad without chewing. There was something almost… predatory in it. Looking closely, he swore his tongue was split.
To his left, B watched with wrapped attention, his eyes steely and stern, building fear and distrust building behind his standard mask of stoicism. On his right, Damien seemed utterly unaffected. If anything, he seemed almost cheerful, listening to Danny talk about his job, his school work, and all the dull details which come with any life. He had a pet dog named Cujo; his older sister had just started her own psychology practice—tiny details which did nothing to explain the bone-deep discomfort permeating the air. Danny, for his part, was animated. He spoke with an effervescent energy that felt almost unreal. Jayjay sat back, occasionally throwing in a smart comment with no bite but mostly seeming content to watch. It was nice seeing his brash and bullheaded brother so comfortable. The usual anger which seemed so ever-present was absent. Dick didn't know how to cope with that. Danny was disturbing. Still, he made his beloved brothers so happy, and the contradiction ate him alive.
Throughout the meal, siblings began to filter in. Duke was the first to arrive, followed by Steph, Cass, Barbra, and finally, Tim. Each would introduce themself, take their seat, and find themselves slowly introduced to the madness that was Danny’s existence. He had this odd habit of saying the most baffling, concerning things Dick had heard in his life. Honestly, that alone was an achievement to be proud of. He watched as his siblings shared glances, seemingly trying to figure out whether this guy was for real. Duke, in particular, was staring Dick dead in the eye as if daring him to stand up and yell, “Sike!”. The only exception seemed to be Cass, who, much like Damien and Jason, was apparently unaffected, even cheerful. It seemed like the most screwed-up members of the family were the ones most comfortable with this strange man, and it was starting to paint a harrowing picture. Dick had to ask himself, what made them different? What set those three apart from the rest of them? He thought he might know the answer, and he hoped to God he was wrong.
After all, if he was right, what would it mean that this guy seemed like catnip for the previously deceased?
Tag cultists
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scribeoffate · 4 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alicia Boyd & Vernon Boyd, Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd & Derek Hale Characters: Vernon Boyd, Alicia Boyd, Vernon Boyd's Mother, Vernon Boyd’s Father, Lydia Martin, Erica Reyes, Derek Hale, Laura Hale Additional Tags: Canonical Character Death, Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Episode: s02e03 Ice Pick (Teen Wolf TV), Episode: s03e06 Motel California (Teen Wolf TV), Episode: s03e07 Currents (Teen Wolf TV), Pre-Canon Summary:
Six times Vernon Boyd misses his sister. (No plus one.)
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ancient-pokehistorian · 6 months
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[ puzzle ] from bri, for pascale!
PROMPTS FOR ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE (open still, somehow) [ puzzle ] sender helps receiver solve/put together a puzzle
"I can't believe I found this when I went ruin-hunting with a friend's grad students a weeks ago." Pascale's was warm, laced with an undeniable excitement as she set the object down on the table between her and Bri.
Although she handled it like it was made of glass, the box seemed remarkably durable. Though clearly aged, there were few dents and even fewer scratches in the still vivid violet exterior. At first glance, it seemed to be a solid block of an object, but the knowing look in the ancient queen's eyes as she slid into her chair said otherwise.
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"Your grandfather gave this to me shortly after I came to Kalos for my wedding. It's a puzzle box, but with nothing to push or turn. But, if you move in the right pattern..." Pascale demonstrated by running two fingers horizontally across the top of the box. Where she touched, the color darkened to black, then turned silver, but when she pulled her fingers towards her, it quickly faded back to violet.
"I remember that first step, across the top. But I never did manage to get it opened. What do you make of it?"
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seventh-district · 4 months
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Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition
[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]
#boothill#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr incorrect quotes#hsr memes#honkai star rail memes#hsr meme#honkai star rail meme#hsr textpost#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#hsr spoilers#hsr 2.2 spoilers#hmmm... don't think it's worth tagging the others in the 9th image. this ain't about them#still unsure abt how to do the alt text for these kinda posts properly but hopefully i'm improving#anyways. don't think i've ever seen heard and typed "cowboy' so many times in one day as i have while making this good lord#i did a bit of digging around and haven't Seen any of these done yet so. here's hoping that's the case!#i'm only ~3/4 of the way through the 2.2 main quest but the need to make these compelled me to put these out Now#i can already tell u that there Will be more of these for Boothill tho bc i'm crazy abt him. probably enough to make another dedicated post#but i'm gonna wait until i'm fully caught up on the plot (and will probably spoil myself for more of his character lore after that as well)#speaking of. i'm gonna go eat mac n' cheese and stay up too late playing through the rest of the main quest#i'm loving it so far. many thoughts head full abt it all but in a good way. hoping for more Boothill moments as we approach the end#he's def not the main character here but he is to Me okay. he is to me. i'm scarfing down every crumb he drops#i'm also suffering from Aventurine withdrawals out here. Argenti mentioning him was Interesting but i need More. Where Is He.#also. was Argenti intentionally not voiced or was it a game issue?? the hell was that. threw me off so hard when i couldn't hear him speak#anyways i'm getting off topic and wasting precious gaming time so i'll be takin' my leave now
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demaparbat-hp · 5 months
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Almost
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jojo-schmo · 2 months
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[The Forgotten Land Roleswap: Chapter 2 49-50]
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emblazons · 3 months
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"Do you not see, Eleven?"
El & 001 + Mike Wheeler & Martin Brenner Parallels see also: Vecna' using El's trauma to manipulate(!) her ⤷ inspired by @heroesbyler & my own commentary (x)
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acourtofthought · 3 months
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"Gone to the mat again and again to fight for that future with Feyre"
Rhys may have stepped back and kept his distance for months when he thought Feyre would be happy with Tamlin but what Cassian said is true, Rhys did consistently show that he was willing to fight for Feyre.
Lucien fighting for his future with Elain:
Lucien breathed, "Where is he keeping her?"
"I don't know. Rhysand has a hundred places where they could be, but I doubt he'd use any of them to hide Elain, knowing that I'm aware of them." "Tell me anyway. List all of them."
"You'll die the moment you set foot in his territory." "I survived well enough when I found you."
"I need to find her."
I asked Lucien to escort me, and he'd been more than happy to do so, given that his own status of mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days".
"I'm getting my mate back."
"Tell me about her - about Elain," Lucien said quietly.
"My mate is engaged to a human male." I want to see her. Just once. Just-to know." "To know what?" "If she is worth fighting for. And then I'll ask your mate how he survived it - knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male's bed."
"I would like to see them first. I know you're anxious -" "Just do it," Lucien said, bracing his forearms on the stone rail of the veranda. "Come get me when she's ready."
But Lucien was standing in the doorway. And from the devastation on his face, I knew he'd heard ever word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.
Lucien stiffened - not at what I'd said, I realized, but at the tone. A hostess. But he asked, "What of - Elain?" "I need to think about it," I answered plainly.
"I would never hurt her."
"She needs fresh air." "We'll judge what she needs." "Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two."
"I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And ... sorrow. Longing."
"Let me do something. About Elain. I heard - from my room. Everything that happened just now. It wouldn't hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally."
"Please tell me," Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer. "What the healer says. And if- if you need me for anything."
"I'll go." Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke.
Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he'd run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.
"I heard - what happened. I'm sorry for your loss. All of you."
"I heard you made the killing blow."
Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain's side.
"How is she?" "Good. But is she still..." A muscle flickered in his jaw. "Does she still mourn him?
Lucien had encountered him, I realized. Somehow, in living with Jurian and Vassa at the manor, he'd run into Elain's former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.
"The bigger box is for you. The smaller one is for her."
Cassian's heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. "
Two years after their bond snapped "he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."
From the start of their bond snapping until where we are currently at in the series Lucien is still fighting for Elain.
Is he being pushy? No, because that's not what would best for a female who recently had a broken engagement with someone she loved.
But does he still think of her? Does he still long for her? Has he been loyal to only her?
That is the author showing us that Lucien remains committed to their bond, he is fighting for their bond.
Authors do not write loyal kings as not ending up with their HEA and Elain will always be able to take comfort in the fact that he wanted her, he waited for her, he allowed her to set the pace of things while he suffered for her.
That is how you write a real love story. Not a guy who rejected her at the first real test to their love as Graysen did, not a guy like Az who hadn't thought of a future with her beyond his sexual fantasies and proceeded to feel a spark in his chest at the thought of another female's happiness mere hours after he rejected Elain.
Lucien is loyal to Elain regardless of what he's getting out of the situation and that's exactly what we saw from both Rhys and Cassian with their mates.
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northstarscowboyhat · 6 months
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I know your art (which is bedazzling, btw!) is primarily about staroba, but I gotta ask. How is my favorite “vampire”, Dalv doing in your Lucky Clover AU?
First of all, thank you so much! I know I tend to hyperfocus on the Staroba and Clover end of the AU, given my obvious bias LOL. But it was about time I designed Dalv and Martlet, so two for one special!
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Dalv is in his late 30s and doing quite a bit better! He's still quite introverted, but has more of a social life in Snowdin! In the time that's passed since Clover chose to live in the Underground, he's become a very successful children's book author and illustrator and gains a ton of joy from that. Overall he's living a bit more of a quiet and peaceful life despite his past struggles, but he's quite content with that! He still in contact with Clover and the others and they visit him fairly often.
Martlet is in her early 30s, and she's just as energetic and spry as ever! She still has some scatter brained tendencies, but she's a lot more responsible and a lot more independent now. She also still lives in Snowdin, though she flies to the Oasis Valley like, daily, to see her buddy Clover LOL. She quit her job with the Royal Guard and took up carpentry, and is successfully running her own independent business! She's upbeat and cheerful, but she generally tries to keep a low profile in Snowdin. Despite it being quite a few years, there's still some rumours and talk about why a Royal Guard in Snowdin suddenly quit her position...
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silverskulltula · 1 year
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so the limited run kotor master edition strategy guide is really good
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(apology tour spoilers)
you know what? I think apology tour is actually my favorite episode of helluva boss so far.
Yes, I cried, and yes, I want my babies to be together. But I think this episode was actually a turning point- blitz is trying to get better.
And when they were talking on the couch.. blitz holding stolas in his arms, their casual banter, stolas looking at blitz to make sure it was okay for him to dance with that other guy, and blitz's little wave of approval. They fit so well together even when they're fighting.
I love this episode because it's realistic. Sometimes people need time apart to be able to make it work, and sometimes things are complicated and sad, not fluffy little gays all the time. How stolas is so lonely and just wants to be loved, blitz doesn't believe he CAN be loved, and they're both so broken yet perfect for each other. I do think that they need time apart so they can both grow and just have time to think about their relationship. Blitz is already showing signs of acknowledging his issues and wanting to change, which is good.
And it's interesting to see myself in both of them, and I know lots of other people do as well. It's nice seeing that maybe we can change, too.
This is the most invested I've been in their relationship, I think ever.
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guardian-angle22 · 1 year
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911: Lone Star | Owen Strand & Marjan Marwani
↳ for @autistic-lesbian-story-lover
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venus-is-thinking · 14 days
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A Narrative Defense of Levi Accomplice Theory
Hello everyone! I’m finally back with this post to celebrate the fact that DRDT is back tomorrow! aaaaAAAAAAAA–
For any of you who have no idea what the title means, consider it the second part to my year-old Narrative Defense of Eden Culprit Theory. In this, I’ll go over the narrative reasons why I think Levi being the accomplice (to Eden as the blackened) would make sense and open up interesting opportunities for DRDTdev to explore, if they do choose to go in this direction. I’m not at all trying to prove, evidence-wise, why Levi is the accomplice in this post. 
My thoughts on the functionality of the Chapter 2 murder method are basically exactly what @1moreff-creator (nickname FF) outlines in their A Summary of the Levi Accomplice Theory + How We Got Here post. I STRONGLY recommend reading it, both because I think it’s a great read and because as far as I know, the concept of Levi as an accomplice isn’t really talked about outside of it, so it’ll provide some useful context as to why I believe this is a possibility. 
That being said, I do want to disclaim this by saying that this post will be a lot more open-ended and speculative than the Eden version. Levi accomplice theory, at least in the context of being paired with Eden culprit, is objectively less likely to be true than Eden culprit theory by itself, and I could definitely see a world in which Levi is either innocent or involved in the crime in some other way. 
There’s also the fact that, because I don’t believe Levi will be executed this chapter, there’s a lot more question of where his character is headed. I predicted the trajectory of Eden’s arc to end in a handful of episodes; Levi will hypothetically be facing entirely new motives and twists that I have no way to meaningfully predict, so take all of this with a grain of salt.
Still, I’ve been meaning to make this post for literally an entire year, and I’m not gonna let the “Chapter 2 resumes” deadline pass! So, without further ado, here it is: the long awaited Narrative Defense of Levi Accomplice Theory!
SPOILER WARNING THROUGH CHAPTER 2 PART ONE!
T/W: Murder, blackmail, traumatic pasts 
I’m going to follow roughly the same structure as the Eden Narrative Defense, which means that I’m going to be looking at the following topics:
Motive (Why Levi would choose to help Eden commit the crime)
Story Arc (How Levi being the accomplice fits into the overall narrative)
Relationships (How Levi’s relationships impact this writing decision)
Character Arc (How this plays into Levi’s individual character arc)
Wildcard (A specific topic that I think is relevant to discuss for this theory)
These are listed in the order they appeared in Eden’s narrative defense, with Eden’s Wildcard slot being taken up by her emotional breakdown in the Trial and justifying how that wouldn’t be entirely fake/how it would be possible with her still being the culprit. Hopefully that all makes sense! 
For Levi, I actually think the best starting point is: 
TOPIC 1: Relationships
Because this theory is dependent on Levi helping Eden commit literal murder, I want to start off by examining Levi’s relationship with Eden. 
Interestingly, they don’t really interact much of all in Chapter 1; to my memory, the clearest example of them being highlighted in the same scene is when Arei throws a fit over Eden not inviting her to bake with her, where in the same scene, Arei manipulates Levi after he tries to defuse the situation.
However, we open Chapter 2 on the two of them having a rather important conversation. Notably, Levi gets “good person” name dropped in this conversation. For those who don’t know, beneath the “All That Glitters” chapter title, there’s a faint hidden text of “A Good Person.” Pretty much everyone who is called a good person is incredibly important to this chapter (Teruko, Eden, Arei, David, and Levi), so Levi getting hit with the “good person” right at the beginning definitely flags him for importance down the line. 
Interestingly, what is said here is: 
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Levi is called a good person due to his reliability, which clues us into the fact that Eden might be open to relying on Levi, even if it’s for something important. Notably, here, Levi still wants to help others and try to be the best person he can be, despite his slip-up yelling at Ace in the Chapter 1 Trial. 
The existence of this scene at all, and especially given the fact that it delves further into Eden and Levi’s mental states as the killing game progresses, seems to indicate that this is a pair to watch moving forwards. 
Levi also notably has another relationship that heavily plays into the idea of Levi being an accomplice: Ace. 
Ace has spent the chapter telling Levi to fuck off and leave him alone, holding the fact that Levi said he would strange Ace over his head. To me, Levi’s strong reactions to Ace play very heavily into his secret quote:
I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness.
(If you don’t know what the secret quotes are, basically, on everyone’s profile page on the tumblr website, there’s a secret quote hidden that you can find by inspecting elements. This is the one on Levi’s page.)
I’ll get more into this later on, but this is a rather interesting quote when paired with Levi taking the action of threatening Ace, but doing it through words alone. You could argue that he didn’t actually do anything, but that’s not completely true. Ace certainly seems to think he did something. 
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Levi is caught at the crossroads of his words of intent to harm Ace being treated as the true him, but any attempts he makes to reconcile are being treated as “just words.” 
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However, any actions that Levi tries to take are rebuffed. He can’t repair things with his words, and he can’t take action without violating Ace’s wishes, so he’s stuck. This, of course, frustrates Levi.
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This was clearly a big character moment from Levi. It seems like his will to repair things with Ace, at least, is fully gone in this moment. Notably, we haven’t really seen any demeanor change from Levi that I can think of as a result for this conclusion he’s apparently drawn, which raises my suspicions that he’s hiding crucial information from us this Trial.
But, most people who think Levi is set up to be suspicious and giving up on everyone think that he’s going to be the killer. Why do I think he’s going to be the accomplice instead?
Well, a lot of it has to do with the evidence itself, notably the grippy tape and the contraption used in Arei’s killing (see FF’s theory post). But, there’s also the fact that it’s not unreasonable to think that Eden and Levi could’ve gotten scheming here. 
While Levi walks off before Teruko, we don’t know exactly what happens afterwards. It seems like Ace got bandaged up at some point (possibly because Eden helped him?), but either way, I could see Eden and Levi talking afterwards about their opinions on everything that happened. And, of course, about their secrets.
TOPIC 2: Motive
For the sake of this theory, I am strongly assuming that Levi’s secret is “You’re a murderer, and you hold no remorse.” If it isn’t, toss this entire thing out the window, because it doesn’t make any goddamn sense. 
I think there are two conceivable paths to Levi’s motive for helping out Eden here. I know that in FF’s post, they outline one of them: the possibility that Levi would prefer that Eden escape and everyone else die over the continuation of the killing game as-is. This would be based on Levi’s belief that Eden is a good person, and his increased belief over time that everyone else (including himself) is a bad person, unworthy of living.
I certainly think this is possible, but it leaves Levi’s character off in a bit of a weird spot. Like, okay, he decided to gamble it all on Eden and he loses. Then what? It’s only Chapter 2. There are certainly ways for his character to go, but I feel like at that point, he’s either dragging his feet before dying or dragging his feet before he gets to do his survivor arc. I’m not sure if it would leave enough room to explore his character over the course of who-knows-how-many-more chapters. I have to imagine that, if Levi is the accomplice under this plan, he’d make it through Chapter 3, because otherwise, it seems like the message of Levi is that he gave up and that means he died. But, what would he be doing throughout those chapters?
So, I think that’s a possible read, but it’s not the one I favor. The second read is a little more complicated, but I think it makes sense. Give me a bit to explain it.
This theory really focuses in on my interpretation of Levi’s secret quote, which is again: 
I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness.
What this says to me, in combination with Levi’s secret, is, “I am only a murderer if I am actively murdering someone.” Sure, Levi was a murderer– but that was in the past!
(Levi makes many cryptic mentionings of his dark past. I don’t know what exactly it is, but I believe that Levi has killed someone, and might not feel remorse for at least one specific killing. It’s also possible that he feels no remorse because that’s just how he grieves– by feeling nothing– which he alludes to in the opening conversation with Eden.)
However, Ace is challenging that belief that Levi has. Can he really change so much just because he’s acting on his best behavior? Besides, it doesn’t really matter; if people think he’s a murderer, what difference is there in how they treat him?
To me, that’s what Levi’s “Why do I even bother?” means. He’s realizing that, with Ace, at least, but also maybe in general, if someone believes he’s a murderer, that’s as good as him being a murderer. In combination with his secret, that means that anyone who learns his secret will treat him as a murderer, immediately burning any relationship they have with him.
It kind of makes me think of the concept of Thought-Action Fusion, which is the psychological term for the belief that thinking about doing something wrong is just as bad as doing that wrong thing. It’s not quite the same, but it’s that kind of idea. Who cares if Levi kills someone or not? If people think he has, he might as well have. 
That, obviously, is a bad thing. It’s an even worse thing when you consider that DRDT seems to be a TV show, and MonoTV is threatening to reveal everyone’s motive secrets to everyone in the whole world if no one kills!
This then creates a bit of a paradox for Levi. The only way to prevent everyone from finding out that he’s a murderer is to murder someone on national (?) television. 
However, there is one out for him in this situation. If someone else kills before the motive timer is up, Levi gets out of this situation clean. And that’s where Eden comes in.
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(For clarity’s sake, I largely think this scene is a joke. I do not think Eden is actually doing anything sinister by “blackmailing” Teruko here, nor do I think either Teruko or Eden would actually think anything malevolent of Eden because of it. However, I’ve noticed that DRDT is very good at slipping relevant ideas or information into jokes, which is why I want to look at this.)
Eden doesn’t need to blackmail Levi, per se. At least, she doesn’t have to actually put the threat out there directly. 
What I’m envisioning is basically that, after helping bandage Ace up, Eden goes and checks in with Levi and sees how he’s doing. Levi explains his frustrations with the fact that Ace is treating him like a murderer even though he hasn’t done anything, and it seems like Ace’s belief that he’s a murderer is good enough to condemn him. In response, Eden lets Levi know that she knows what his secret is.
Arei is the one who received Levi’s secret, but I’d be, like, 0% surprised if Eden knew it. Arei said she’d do anything to prove her loyalty to Eden, and especially considering how Arei overheard the secret Eden received, it would make enough sense if she told Eden about the one she received to “even it out.” 
So, let’s say Eden says, “but aren’t you a murderer? Your secret says so.” Or something like that. Levi is now obviously in a tricky position, because the answer is, yes, that is his secret, but people aren’t supposed to know that. Eden would then loop Levi into her plan to kill Arei, and they would come to a mutual understanding.
Levi has to cooperate with Eden and do whatever she says when it comes to the crime, because if he doesn’t, Eden could easily reveal his secret. To Levi, that’s a fate worse than death, because it means that he will never be able to escape his past. Conversely, Eden can’t throw Levi under the bus and spill his secret, because then Levi would easily throw Eden under the bus and reveal she’s the blackened in turn. By giving Levi a severe secret of Eden’s own– that she’ll be the blackened– the playing field levels out into one of mutually assured destruction, where both of them respect each other enough to take the other’s secret to the grave if they’re the one who fails.
Eden, I think, would be willing to take this risk in the first place, because Levi is reliable. If she understands how his internal logic operates, she can trust that he’ll see it through to the end. Having an accomplice could make it much harder for people to find out she's the blackened, which is a huge advantage.
For Levi, if you follow my read of his character, this makes sense. His best bet is to help Eden out from a neutral perspective, helping her commit the crime but not dying on the hill to help her win. If Eden loses, she can respect the fact that he didn’t out her and tried to help her. Then, Eden dies, taking everyone’s secrets and the motive to her grave with her. Obviously, the secrets ended up being more or less revealed anyways, considering Arei’s body wasn’t discovered until after the motive announcement, but David is proof enough that the students didn’t know that was how it would be ruled. 
Hopefully this makes enough sense! To summarize, I think Levi’s motivation to help Eden is to protect his own secret and survive the motive. The only way to avoid being known as a murderer is to help facilitate a murder without the fact that he was an accomplice ever being exposed. To have his secret revealed is basically death anyways, so risking death if Eden is the killer isn’t the biggest deal in the world. 
INTERLUDE 2.5: Arei’s Glove
So, this isn’t part of the narrative defense, this is me repairing part of FF’s theory. Because, Arei’s glove is missing from her body, and FF’s reasoning ended up being “Levi can drop the glove to frame himself as the culprit mid-Trial if needed.” However, because in my world, Levi is still hoping Eden loses (even if he can’t contribute), that seems a bit far fetched. So, I tried to come up with an alternate explanation of why Arei’s glove might be missing.
One of them kinda sucks, which is that Arei was wearing her glove when the water jugs broke, drenching it. Because the turf is weird, you can count on the turf not being wet by the Body Discovery Announcement, but the glove could still be too wet, giving away part of how the crime was completed. Thus, someone hides or pockets the glove so that it doesn’t give something away. This seemed halfway viable to me before I rewatched the investigation, but between the fish being entirely dried out (non-turf that was definitely very wet at one point) and the positioning of the tape marks on Arei’s wrists (which I think would mean the glove would have to be off her wrists when you taped them), I don’t think it’s especially viable.
There’s FF’s original reasoning from a while ago as to why it could’ve been missing, which is that to get a better grip on the spinny thing (carousel), Levi may have put on Arei’s glove. It could’ve gotten scratched up or stretched out as a result, making it key evidence. This is a bit presumptive, but it works enough.
The weirdest thing to me is that it does seem like Arei’s glove was taken off before her wrists were taped. I’d think taping Arei’s wrists would happen fairly early, considering it makes it harder for her to struggle. But, getting her glove off while she’s struggling seems pretty hard.
The third explanation I have is just that Eden asked Arei to take her glove off at some point before Levi showed up, because it would be annoying to tape her wrists with the glove on. Then, Arei’s glove went missing in the shuffle, or they didn’t have a good place to put it because it would be difficult to put it back on once Arei is hung up. They couldn’t throw it in the trash, because Eden planned on the class reconstructing the note they left in the trash. So, instead, Arei’s glove gets stashed somewhere and they hope no one notices it, because if people stop to think about how Arei’s glove was taken off before her wrists were taped, it could point to Eden.
I don’t love any of these reasons, but combined, I think they’re good enough that it’s not a dealbreaker for this theory, at least. Pick whichever one is your favorite and we can go forward from there.
TOPIC 3: Character Arc
If Levi’s relationships have set him up for this, and he has a viable enough motive, what does it mean for Levi that he’s the accomplice? What is his individual story telling us?
I think Levi’s character is meant to center around the concept of what makes a person good, and what allows a person to properly repent. It really seems like Levi has a not-so-good past, something that’s only heightened if he does have the murderer without remorse secret.
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There’s also the secret quote, which talks about “excuses” for “heartlessness.” Levi is trying to put his dark past behind him, but it’s incredibly difficult. He wants to move forwards from it, but he doesn’t know how.
If Levi is the accomplice, it provides a really interesting opportunity for his character arc: Levi will then be exposed as an accomplice and be publicly known as someone dangerous and possibly, to some, unforgivable, but he won’t die for it. He’ll have to figure out how to navigate the fact that he does carry the burden of his past actions with him, and he’ll have to learn to cope.
If a character is meant to ask how possible it is to repent, doesn’t it make sense to give an extremely concrete in-universe thing that they need to repent for, and that everyone knows they need to repent for? 
I’m not sure exactly where Levi would end up from there. A lot of it depends on the other characters, the motives, and the kill order. I still think it’s definitely possible for Levi to take on the classic Chapter 4 buff curse/sacrifice killer mantle with this, if he decides that the only way to repent properly is to put everyone else above him. However, I do think it’d be interesting to see him fill any slot. 
He could be a victim, if his time runs out. He could be a killer, if he decides that he can’t repent, and his only option is to once again try to outrun his past. He could be a survivor if he figures out that the only thing he can do is try to move forwards, accept his past, and try to do better in the future. I’m actually quite partial to the survivor interpretation, but it’s hard to make survivor cast predictions this early.
Either way, I think this totally makes sense as a direction to take Levi’s character in.
TOPIC 4: The “Murderer” Rule
This is my Wildcard slot for this narrative defense. I don’t know exactly what it’ll amount to, but I think it’s worth discussing. 
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Rule 14: All murderers must be held accountable for their crimes. 
If Levi is the murderer without remorse, I wonder if this rule will apply to him. I also wonder exactly what it means. “Held accountable” doesn’t necessarily mean that whoever is a murderer will get executed.
I honestly think a really interesting way for this to go is if Eden gets found out as the culprit on her own, but they don’t realize that Levi is the accomplice. Then, in accordance with Rule 14, MonoTV reveals that Levi was also involved in the crime, and is also functionally a murderer. This forces Levi to be held socially responsible by those around him.
Another option would be that, whenever his secret comes to light, he’s at risk of some kind of execution. I doubt Levi would actually get executed there, considering a lot of the reason I like Levi accomplice theory is because of how interesting it’d be to further pursue Levi’s character post-murder, but it’s certainly possible.
It could also be something that comes up in Chapter 6. This rule feels like it’s a direct result of the mastermind’s worldview or something. If Levi is a survivor, it’s possible that, at the end, the mastermind will try to execute him or something because he’s a murderer. Hell, maybe every survivor will have a claim to be a murderer in some way or another. That’s when the characters will rise up and say that people deserve a second chance, no matter their past. Or something like that, I don’t know. Again, it’s really hard to theorize about the whole game when we only have, like, 1.75 chapters so far. 
Anyways, onto the last point:
TOPIC 5: Story Arc
Oh boy, time to theorize about the whole game!
Because figuring out the moral messaging and final result of the last Class Trial at this stage is nigh impossible, I’ve been reading the Story Arc category through Teruko. How would it impact the way we see the story through her eyes if Levi is the accomplice?
Well, an obvious point is that it emphasizes how much you can’t trust anyone. You can’t even trust that there’s only one person with killing intent per murder! I’m sure Levi would be somewhat outcasted if this does all play out, and that would likely tie into a greater feeling of distrust. Between David’s heel turn, the sweet and helpful Eden tearfully being the blackened and facing an execution, and the stoic but previously reliable Levi being both a murderer (secret) and an accomplice (crime) out of nowhere, trust throughout the group would be at an all-time low. I think that’s a good thing; as I’ve said before, at this point in the story, I think we’re still validating Teruko’s worldview. It’s too early for a major shake-up, and to Teruko, these patterns are repetitive. They have to repeat at least a little bit for the audience to truly understand why Teruko acts the way she does.
But, even more than that, I think that DRDT has the makings of a central message surrounding fate. 
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Everyone’s fate is already sealed, according to Teruko. The Lucky Student cannot die, no matter what. All murderers must be held accountable. There are a lot of big picture makings of the idea that people’s fates are already set in stone, no matter what they do.
Levi is, in many ways, “fated” to be a bad person. He’s fated to be a murderer. Whatever his past was, it seems like he was set up for moral failure no matter what. Seeing Levi fall into that trap of his destiny, being a murderer yet again after being deemed a murderer, also validates Teruko’s worldview that everyone is doomed because they’re already locked into their slots. Even if Levi didn’t die today, he will eventually.
Except, if he doesn’t die immediately, he also has a possibility to invalidate that worldview later. Levi’s survival to a point and (presumed) attempt to repent again, even after everything, could be something that shakes Teruko’s beliefs in future chapters. I’m not saying Levi would be the catalyst for Teruko’s entire character arc, but I think it’s going to take a lot of instances of Teruko being “wrong” to actually change Teruko’s mind. This is one way that we could set up Teruko being wrong, dating back to Chapter 2, so that when we get the payoff, the seeds have been planted all along the way.
 CONCLUSION
Hopefully this made sense! It’s been a long time since I’ve fully watched the series, and I only had time to partially rewatch Chapter 2 before writing and posting this. But, I remember a lot of the thoughts I had back when I was in peak DRDT brainrot, and I still believe Levi being the accomplice would make a lot of sense and open up a lot of doors narratively.
Obviously, this is what I currently believe, but even if you disagree, I hope you still found it interesting. I think it’s important to remember, going into these next few episodes, a core principle that pushed me to write the Eden Narrative Defense in the first place: we shouldn’t call something bad writing until we see it executed. Please remember to respect DRDTdev’s writing decisions and creative autonomy, no matter how you feel about the result. I’ll do my best to do the same as well.
With that being said, OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE DRDT IS BACK WE’RE GONNA GET ANSWERS AAAAAAAA–
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melonfiend · 1 year
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everyone’s favorite disney prince, eugene fitzherbert!
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poisonousquinzel · 8 months
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ngl real missed opportunity by DC to let Harley and Mr. Freeze become friends during her primary villain arc (btas or other) cause tbh I can't imagine he'd enjoy sitting in his cell listening to Joker brag about all the ways he's cruel, abusive and uncaring towards Harley, a woman who loves him, while Victor's entire goal is to save his wife who he loves dearly ya know ???? and it's not like all of them haven't been locked up together, the other rogues Know. Joker's not like most abusers who try to keep it behind closed doors, he's very public with his abuse.
And just that feeling of like "I am doing everything I can to save my wife, I have become a criminal and have done awful things in the name of love and I just want nothing more than to have her back and You Have Someone Who Loves You That Much, That Much To Become A Criminal As Well And You Repay That Love By ABUSING HER."
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