#and I’m betting it turns out his blood cures her of her cold issues

[pippin-pippout]

Ok so I’m caught up on the this woven kingdom series. I HATED the blood oath bit. I understand it’s supposed to make us uncomfortable but it feels super unforgivable and disgusting on Alizeh’s part. And during the oath, she was like “I didn’t realize it would be this bad” yet she still didn’t turn back when she had the chance. And after it was done she still had the nerve to be surprised by how bad it was still going to get.

Maybe as someone who has suffered from chronic illnesses it disgusts me to see a supposedly heroic character knowingly condemn someone to suffer constant endless pain. Or maybe it’s because I really don’t think she HAD to have the blood oath in order to marry him. He would’ve given the kingdom to her no matter what and probably killed himself if she’d asked. And while I understand that she can’t trust him fully, she had a choice to make - 1) take a risk, trust, and don’t enslave someone, or 2) enslave someone and operate risk free.

In reality (and in most fantasy stories) people are forced to operate with risk. They take chances to get what they want. Because of the existence of the blood oath she didn’t have to take a risk, but she still could’ve chosen to do so, in order to spare someone who she knows didn’t deserve it even more unimaginable pain.

Even beyond that, she wouldn’t have been taking as much risk as a normal person, because she had the nosta when Cyrus was making his promises initially. So she knew he had the full intent at the time to fulfill his end of the bargain. She knows the devil plans for her to be queen, so she doesn’t actually have to fear the devil forcing Cyrus to change his mind, nor the devil making Cyrus hurt/kill her (which I’m still not convinced the blood oath protects her from given Cyrus also has a deal with the devil).

Ultimately, the narrative was set up like the blood oath was a requirement for the marriage. There were only two options: either blood oath + marriage or no marriage at all. To someone like Kamran, I can see how that would be an all or nothing situation. But there was also the option of marriage with no blood oath. It kind of ruined Alizeh’s character for me that she never even bothered to consider that option. She chose to enslave someone to herself and to condemn them to constant pain.

The only saving grace is that what she wants is to save her people, and I can understand the argument of not wanting to leave other people’s fates up to chance if you don’t have to. But to me, to condemn one person to that kind of suffering when there were other options available - other good options that provided more assurance than any normal person would ever get - should completely disqualify her from being any kind of savior Queen.

Edit because I’m not done: I also thought it really disgusting that she basically acted out Cyrus’s dreams as his “angel” in the last chapter, but instead of comforting him after the devil tortured him, in this case the torture was completely brought on by her. Yet the last line of the book is her blaming the devil.

And while he certainly has a part to play in Cyrus being forced to marry her it wasn’t him that demanded the blood oath that causes Cyrus’s current suffering. I’m pretty confident this parallel was intentional on the author’s part, including Alizeh ironically being the source of his suffering this time, but I don’t know what I was meant to take away from it. She was very much framed as a villain to me in that last chapter though I don’t think that was the authors intention at all.

Also I’m not sure if Cyrus’s prior dreams of her were actually the devil’s doing or him seeing a version of the future (since diviners can do that) in a way that comforted him. But either way the way it actually came true was for her to mend the hurts she willingly caused him while he is desperate for her like an opioid. It took any sense of romance out of that for me. Him not wanting her to leave after he’s tortured by the devil because she is a comforting loving presence? Sweet. Him not wanting her to leave because her absence will literally cause him unbearable pain and he doesn’t have faith she’ll stick around just to prevent that? Disturbing.

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [6/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47723155

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: Mature (for like one thing this chapter)

Beta Reader: None at the moment, but if anyone’s interested, message me through Tumblr.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #art #jealousy #reincarnation #secrets #undying love

Author's Note(s): Chapters are all still unbeta'ed, but I'm hoping that will soon be fixed :)

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim leaves the Cave and collects his bike and gear, preoccupied with conflicting thoughts.

On the one hand, he wants Jason spared as much discomfort as possible, but on the other, the possibility of him never waking up again makes his heart clench. Temporary or not, it’s still killing Jason, and there’s a reason why everyone is so reluctant to do that.

The fallout from his death the first time still haunts them all today. Still influences the Mission.

And either way, whether we use Diana’s cure or not, it all comes back to finding Eros’ arrows, right?

And speaking of Eros…

Tim returns to the Nest and the sight of the Olympian sprawled against his cot, completely naked and his own hand busily moving up and down his very erect dick.

“Oh my god what the hell,” Tim chokes, whirling around to avoid the sight.

“Fuck,” is the reply he gets, breathless and more irritated than anything else. “You…had to walk in now? Come back in…like…ten minutes.”

“I’m not leaving my own—” The distracting sound of heavy panting and the wet slide of skin on skin interrupt him. “I’m standing right here, stop it!”

“Not really much incentive,” Eros sniggers.

Tim scrambles over to his computer console, trying to block out the sounds, and punches in the code to activate the fire safety system. There’s a sputtering sound as the sprinkler in the ceiling sets off, followed by a shriek of surprise.

“What the hell, man?” Eros yelps, trying to scuttle away from the cold spray.

“Pants,” Tim bites out. “Now.”

“Okay, okay, geeze!”

There’s the rustle of jeans being dragged on, along with a great deal of cursing in more languages than Tim can recognize. Deeming it to be safe, Tim turns off the sprinkler and turns to face his unwanted houseguest, who’s glaring at him as if he wants to set him on fire.

“I can’t believe you did that. What happened to respecting guy-time?”

“There is no guy-time while you’re here,” Tim growls. “It’s enough I have to deal with your attitude, I’m not listening to sex noises. Or watching you get off.”

“Not something you’re into?” Eros questions. “I bet if I was 6’2” and with muscles like Thor, you’d be singing a different tune, darlin’.”

Don’t bet on it.

Eros’ personality aside, Tim’s never really had a taste for men. He considers himself open in terms of preferences, but until Jason, there’s never been any guy he’s ever thought about that way.

He clenches his fists.

Jason.

“Why didn’t you say anything about Stygian Sleep?” he demands, desperate to reroute this conversation pronto.

Eros snorts and rolls his eyes. “Of course someone brought that shit up. I’ll tell you why—because it’s a cure that’s as bad as the disease. Worse maybe.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean its price is steep and I didn’t think you’d be willing to pay it. I was saving time.”

“What did we say about not sharing all the information?” Tim snaps, and then pauses as something occurs to him. “Wait. Is that price the reason you couldn’t help your wife?”

It’s been confusing him, since Eros is supposedly a god; you’d think he’d be able to figure out a way to save the life of someone he supposedly loved.

“The Styx is older and more powerful than we are,” Eros replies, his entire demeanor shifting, as if to put distance between himself and the topic. “It has rules that make it pretty much impossible for a soul that’s been bound to it to leave. Only a soul that’s already returned from Hades can make that sacrifice…and it must be of equal value. Soul for soul, you see? God for god, mortal for mortal.”

Tim frowns.

“Put it this way—bodies are like this Zesti container,” the Olympian says, grabbing one of the many empty cans lining his table. “There’s only room for a certain amount of soul. No more.”

“And when Psyche was cursed, she was mortal,” Tim realizes; a beat later, “And you were a god.”

“Exactly.”

For the first time since they met, Tim feels a flicker of sympathy for the Olympian. It doesn’t make up for his generally irritating personality, but no one wants to lose someone they love. It’s especially hard when you know how to save them but are physically unable to do it.

Something else occurs to him.

“If we used the Stygian Sleep on Jason, there wouldn’t be anyone who could bring him back,” Tim realizes.

There’s no shortage of colleagues they know who have been dead, but no one with enough of a connection to Jason to willingly consign themselves to the death for him. And in the Family, the only one that’s actually been dead and come back (Dick doesn’t count, his heart only stopped for a few minutes) is Damian. And there’s no way Bruce, or anyone else, would let him make that sacrifice, even if he were so inclined.

“See?” Eros says. “I was sparing you the pain of a bad option.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Somehow I doubt it was as altruistic as that.”

Which means they’re back to square one, with the only way to save Jason being finding Eros’ diviners.

There’s a hollow pain in Tim’s stomach. Jason’s in trouble because of him. If he hadn’t thrown himself in front of Tim to save him from the gunfire, he wouldn’t have gotten tagged with Eros’ blood.

On the heels of that is the feeling of disgust.

His harmless daydreams of Jason ever liking him in that way have been twisted in mutated into this.

So, Tim dutifully throws himself back into the investigation.

Video-chatting with everyone back at the Cave, they work together on cross-referencing areas where Eros’ robberies took place and the locations where he last sensed his bow.

For two days, it’s just endless sifting through data and ignoring Eros’ increasingly obnoxious behavior and trying not to think about Jason.

Then, at last, there’s a break in the case.

“All these places you robbed,” Tim begins, frowning at his digital murder-board. “They all correspond with instances of murder-suicides. The victims are always a couple that never showed any sign of domestic issues.” He had noticed them earlier in his investigation, but thought they were unrelated. “Wasn’t there something in the stories…your arrows, they can make people fall in love, but that’s not all they do.”

Eros blinks and then his eyes narrow. “The golden tipped ones make people fall in love. The lead-tipped ones make people hate each other with a bitter passion.”

“I’m going to run a search on the victims, see if there are any connections.”

“I can tell you right now there aren’t,” a mechanical voice interrupts, freezing Tim’s screen.

“Oracle,” Tim greets, not even surprised that she’s been listening in.

“Oracle?” Eros repeats. “What is it with you people and muddying the legacies of the great ones? Have you ever even been to Delphi?”

“The only link between the murder victims is they were all newly married,” the flat, digital voice continues, ignoring Eros. “If you widen the net to track murder-suicides during the past month, most of them occur in or around areas where Eros was looking for his bow and arrow. The interesting thing is, though, they all happened before Eros committed his robberies.”

“What?” Tim asks, confused.

“That’s probably what I was sensing,” Eros says, perking up. “If someone’s using the bow and arrow to incite hatred between lovers, that’s what I was drawn to. But if there were more than one death happening in the area, it’s no wonder I couldn’t get a strong trail. It’s like the scent was overlapping too much.”

“Which means whoever took your diviners not only knew what they were taking, but also from who. And how to throw you off their trail.”

Eros’ face is stormy.

“Still no clue who this could be?” Tim asks, and receives no answer in return. “Great. Very helpful. Do you even want to solve this case?”

Oracle interrupts whatever quip the Olympian has prepared. “Red Robin, you might want to return to the Cave.”

“What? Why?”

There’s a sinking sensation in his gut.

“Red Hood isn’t doing well. And Nightwing might be on the verge of convincing Batman that Wonder Woman’s solution is the only option.”

“What? No! I sent them the report of exactly why that’s a bad idea!” Tim snaps, already hurrying toward the garage.

“I know that,” Oracles replies, her voice switching from the screen to his comm. “But if you could see what Hood looks like right now…it might be a kinder end.”

“And what’s Hood’s opinion on this?”

“He’s…not exactly lucid at the moment.”

And now he feels like throwing up. He was sure they had more time! “I’ll be there in ten.”

“I’m blocking any incoming and outgoing transmissions from Wonder Woman, but at some point, they’re going to clue in to that fact. Drive fast.”

The ride is a blur to Tim, whose thoughts race without registering anything beyond a desperate disbelief.

Think! There’s got to be something we can do, something we missed.

As he weaves in and out of the traffic on the bridge to Bristol, he goes over every interaction he’s had with or about Eros and his abilities. Anything that was said, no matter how seemingly insignificant or unrelated.

One idea needles at him, a shadow of an inkling…

He doesn’t bother with the roundabout route this time, tearing into the Cave’s parking area and barely parking the bike before he’s hurrying toward the containment unit. Bruce isn’t there, which is a good sign—he must still be trying to get a hold of Diana; if he were ready to carry out any action for Jason, he would be here with him.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t!” Tim orders, striding forward.

“Tim,” Dick says, getting up from the chair he’s been occupying beside the unit. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He ignores him, eyes drawn immediately to Jason. The older man is sitting curled in a ball at one end of the glass cage, surrounded by books and papers that look like they’ve been thrown in a fit of rage. He presses the heels of his hands against his temples, and Tim can see the bags under his eyes from here. And the angry red welt around his wrists and neck, like he’s been scratching into his skin.

Tim’s heart lurches.

“I didn’t know he was doing this bad,” he whispers.

Dick sighs. “He hasn’t slept in two days, and we can’t sedate him after what Diana said. It’s like he’s going through withdrawal—fever sweats, hallucinations, throwing up. Which isn’t great because he hasn’t been eating, either.”

And on top of that, he’s probably feeling trapped in that claustrophobic cell.

“He’s deteriorating right in front of us.”

“I know. We’re trying to contact Diana, but—”

“No. Not that. That is not an option.”

“Tim—”

“It would kill him, Dick! There’s no waking him up from it!”

“This is killing him, too! Wouldn’t you rather he didn’t suffer anymore?”

Tim’s fists curl into balls and he glances back at Jason.

He knows he;s is fighting. Bruce’s training and whatever he learned from the League is probably keeping him tethered—even if it’s only looselytethered now—but that’s only a stopgap. Jason looks like he’s on the brink of bashing his head against the glass until he knocks himself unconscious.

The mental image makes Tim recoil.

Jason’s in pain and it’s my fault.

He needs to help him, needs to do something, even if it means tamping down his own inconvenient feelings and letting Jason do…whatever he needs to.

Tim will do it; if it means giving Jason more time, he’ll do it.

Even if the idea of it makes him nauseous because right now Jason isn’t in his right mind and when they fix him, he’s going to hate Tim. But then…he’s hated him before, so at least Tim will know what to expect. And maybe if he’s careful about it…

Something Eros said about the nature of desire comes back to him then, and he considers it alongside what he knows about Jason.

He can’t take it anymore.

Tim strides to the door of the containment unit, ready to input the code. Dick blocks his way.

“You can’t!”

“I have an idea.”

“Then tell me what it is, and I’ll do it.”

“You can’t do anything right now,” Tim replies with a sad smile. “Just trust me, okay?”

Dick is still conflicted, but after a beat, he steps out of the way.

Tim opens the door to the containment area and slips inside, letting it close behind him. Slowly, he approaches Jason, almost the same way he might a wounded animal, moving slowly so as not to spook him.

Jason is shaking his head, backing away from him, and murmuring something to himself. Something foreign sounding, like a grounding chant; swear beads on his forehead.

His eyes are clenched shut, as if he’s trying not to see—either Tim or whatever hallucination has been plaguing him.

“Jason,” Tim says quietly. No response. “Jason, look at me.” Clear blue eyes snap open, locking with Tim’s. “I need you to focus on me, okay? And, uh, don’t punch me.”

He can see the difficulty Jason is having with comprehending right now, but he’s lucid enough to flinch away when Tim reaches for him.

“Tim!” Bruce barks somewhere in the distance, having finally made his appearance.

He ignores him and seeks out Jason’s hand, wrapping his hand around it. Or trying to; the other man’s hand feels huge compared to his.

He gives a fully body shudder at the contact, and then he’s clasping back at Tim as if he’s his lifeline. Something is at war in his eyes, that bit of sanity that tells him Jason’s still there.

“Philtatos,” he whispers, and Tim shivers at the way the strange word rings like a verbal caress.

Tim’s thumb automatically swipes across Jason’s wrist, and skin to skin like this he can feel the frantic beat of his pulse. Too fast for someone that’s been sitting still.

“You’re going to be okay,” Tim tells him. “Remember your training. Just breathe…and focus. Hold as tight as you need to.”

Jason’s breath shudders in a way that suggests he trying to comply.

Tim isn’t sure how long they stay like that, him crouched in front of Jason just holding his hand and murmuring calming words. But at some point, Jason begins to look visibly better. His pulse is returning to normal, the cold sweat on his face is beginning to cool and his breathing evens out.

“What…” Jason begins, eyes unfocused in their exhaustion. “Tim…?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“…shouldn’t be. I might…”

“You won’t,” Tim insists, confident. “It’s like what Eros said when we met him, remember? Desire is not just about…physical attraction. That’s not what you’re fixating on right now, is it?”

Jason shakes his head, slow, though his eyes don’t leave Tim’s face.

And I know what skin hunger looks like, Tim doesn’t add.

Before becoming a Wayne, before Dick and Alfred and Bruce and Steph—no on ever touched Tim in kindness or just casually because they wanted to. He was so touch-starved that for the longest time he flinched whenever Dick tried to hug him, even as he craved it more than anything.

He had been so worried about it seeming creepy to want to be held or hugged by his former mentor that it was, he’d let himself believe he wasn’t worth it. It’s a thought that occasionally comes back to him even now. And Jason…

Well, he wasn’t just starving for food when he was living with an abusive father and a drug addicted mother.

“Fuck, babybird, I’m so tired,” Jason murmurs, and there’s something in his voice like he’s asking permission. Tim feels a grating burn at the back of his throat and a swoop in his stomach.

“Go to sleep,” he says quietly. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

And utterly uncharacteristic of him, Jason listens. He lets Tim lead him back to his cot and sit him down, their hands still clasped, and almost the moment he closes his eyes, he’s passed out.

There’s a lingering heavy silence.

Tim takes one last moment to make sure Jason’s asleep and not about to wake again anytime soon, and in a more level voice remarks, “Could you guys stop gawking like this is a side show?”

Outside the glass, Alfred and Dick watch with bemused expressions; for Bruce, it’s disapproval.

“Uh, Tim?” Dick asks, clearly uncomfortable. “Explain?”

“It’s something Eros said. And Cassie, too,” Tim explains, settling back against the wall beside the cot. He keeps his fingers threaded between Jason’s. “This infection, it capitalizes on feelings that are already there, right? With Jason, his instinct when it comes to physical desire…it’s probably not a sex thing. Not with his background. But there is a touch component; having physical contact with another person—in this case, the object of his fixation.”

Alfred appears impressed. “How could you be sure of that?”

“I…wasn’t.”

But his theories are usually correct, so it balances out, he thinks. Dick and Bruce look like they disagree, though.

“Tim, this was foolish,” Bruce lectures, looming as best he can from the other side of the glass. “This might have gone very differently.”

“But it didn’t. I might not be great reading people, but except for you, I don’t think anyone ever bothered to learn about Jason the way I did.”

“He has a point,” Dick agrees carefully. “He was a persistent little stalker.”

There’s a degree of fondness in the statement.

Tim scowls at him and continues. “Besides, like I said, I know the look.”

Bruce doesn’t seem convinced.

“This is only a temporary solution,” he points out. “It won’t work forever.”

“But it will work for now,” Tim insists. “That’s what matters.”

And there’s really no more arguments against it.

⁂

Of course, Jason complains about it when he wakes up.

“I’m going to lose all my street cred,” he grumbles, shoveling a plate of Alfred’s oatmeal into his mouth with his left hand. The fingers of his right remain interlocked with Tim’s.

Tim makes to pull away. “I can stop—”

“I didn’t say that,” Jason interrupts, tightening his hold on Tim’s hand. He knows Tim has no intention of following through with the thread, but that doesn’t make it easier to look him in the eye.

Since waking up with Tim by his side, Jason’s condition has improved drastically. The color is back in his skin, and he’s entirely lucid if Tim is sitting within his personal space. And, of course, his appetite for actual food as returned.

It doesn’t completely quell the gnawing hunger, but he knows that’s not a physical hunger. There’s not much anyone can do about that until the damned arrows are found.

“I think you’ll eventually be okay to leave the containment for short periods,” Tim tells him, looking thoughtful. “At least if I stay in close quarters.”

“Out of the question,” Bruce interrupts; he’s been looming in the corner with a glare since before Jason woke up.

Oddly enough, I don’t think it’s directed at me this time.

“Definitely not a good idea, Timmy,” Dick adds.

“Why? He deserves to shower in peace and eat and groom and act like a normal human being instead of a quarantine patient,” Tim points out. “It’s not like he’s contagious.”

And, yes, Jason could definitely go for a goddamn shower; the grit on his skin has grit. But almost as soon as he has the thought, another image appears in his mind.

“You planning to shower with me, babybird?” he asks, voice tense as he tries to joke it off, because Tim couldn’t possible mean—?

“What? No!” Tim’s cheeks darken. “I think after another hour or so, you should be alright with light or no contact. And once we reach that point, I can probably sit outside the bathroom or something. If I’m within reach it should be okay. We can test it out.”

“Just what I always wanted, to be a science experiment…”

“No,” Bruce says again. “He might attempt to make a run for it or lash out and hurt someone. You in particular, Tim.”

“It is the whole reason I agreed to come here,” Jason concedes.

“And do you have any intention of going away again?” Tim shoots back, and frowns at Bruce. “At least not voluntarily. Also, the idea of him harming anyone is unlikely, he only reached out for Matt because he was disoriented and mistook him for me.”

“Who?”

“The kid from the alley,” Tim clarifies.

Jason’s stomach churns. “That doesn’t excuse what I almost did.”

“He was fine. He was a little shaken up, but I made sure he knows it wasn’t you. That you’re not like that,” Tim assures him, and refocuses on Bruce again. “There’s no one here he can do that with because he knows us all. If that weren’t the case, he would probably have gotten upset at the fact Damian’s been here for the past hour.”

In the shadows, Damian scoffs at being caught. “It’s not like I was hiding.”

And Tim…has a point there. Not sure if it’s because he’s sitting here with me or not, but now that I think about it, the past two days I couldn’t care less about Damian being here.

That’s actually a relief. So he’s not going to become a creeper to anyone that passably resembles Tim. Just Tim.

Okay, maybe relief isn’t the right word.

“As for trying to hurt me, I doubt he’d be capable of doing that in his current state,” Tim concludes. “Besides, I know how to defend myself. The fact that you don’t think I can do that much is a bit insulting.”

Jason can’t help the snort of laughter at that. He always likes when people other than him stand up to Bruce, but it’s somehow better that it’s Tim.

“If I might also point out,” Alfred speaks up. “It has been a rather long while since Master Jason has been able to enjoy a dinner at a table. With other people in attendance.”

Bruce doesn’t respond beyond exhaling through his nose.

“And that’s it, B,” Dick says, trying for levity. “Alfred’s spoken.”

Bruce doesn’t seem amused, either by the situation or the fact he’s lost the argument. Nor can he pursue it, because a notification pops up on the Batcomputer that Firefly is making a nuisance of himself again.

Which is how an hour later, Jason finds himself showered (fastest shower in his life while Tim waited outside the door), wearing fresh clothing (how the hell does Alfred always have clothes in his size around?) and sitting in the library with Tim, who’s doing something clever on his tablet.

“I figure you’d prefer not to be in the Cave unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Tim tells him, not looking at him.

“And I have taken the liberty of returning all of the materials you requested earlier,” Alfred adds, walking in with an armful of books. “I should hope you treat them with a mite more respect this time though.”

“Sorry, Alf,” Jason winces.

“Never mind that, Master Jason. Extenuating circumstances, and all that.”

He departs again.

“Anyhow, you can keep looking into whatever you were doing before,” Tim goes on, still not meeting his gaze. “It’s a good idea. Not all information on the subject has been digitized, so it isn’t searchable. I’ve got remote access to my system and the Cave from here, so I can keep working without having to leave you alone.”

“Right. Because you’ve got no choice but to be my babysitter.”

He tries to dial down the bitterness there, but Tim detects it easily. Finally, he glances up; his expression is surprised, and strangely soft.

“Being here is my choice. Or didn’t you notice the glares B was sending me all night?”

“Yeah, but he always looks like that. That could be about anything.”

“True, but in this case it’s because I have an issue with you getting dosed with some Olympian Death Kool-Aid.”

Tim had explained about the Stygian Sleep when Jason woke up and was trying to understand why they were holding hands. “Better that than me doing something I’d regret.”

“And I say what I said before—give it time.”

Jason scowls. “It’s not fair for you to use you against me right now.”

“If it means putting off the possibility of you dying, it’s totally fair. Besides, in this family, you know no one is above manipulation. Least of all me.”

“Why do you even care?” Jason wants to know. “After everything I’ve done to you?”

Tim shrugs, eyes darting away again.

“I don’t want Bruce and Dick and Alfred going through it again,” he mumbles, returning his attention to the tablet. “Losing you again. It…wasn’t pretty.”

Which Jason’s heard before, but he’s never exactly been willing to hear the specifics. He wonders if Tim decided to tell him this time, if he’d listen.

They lapse into silence then, both drawn into their respective avenues of research. Thankfully Tim’s theory about Jason’s affliction has proven true, and he seems to be regaining some control over himself.

Jason recalls what Eros said, about his condition depending on how far Tim was willing to go for him. He’s not entirely sold on the idea—there have to be limits, of course—but he won’t argue that it’s nice to be able to focus on something other than Tim for a few hours.

Just as long as he’s within easy reach.

By the early hours of the morning, though, Jason has grown bored.

“We’ve been at this for hours,” he grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

“Uh-huh.”

He shoots a look at Tim, who’s frowning over his tablet and clearly didn’t hear him, and rolls his eyes.

He wants to have this whole mess sorted out, of course, but right now it doesn’t look like it’s going to be finished for a while.

They need a break.

Tim needs a break, or he’s going to pass out.

“Time to take a breather, babybird,” he declares a good ten minutes later, after debating with himself about how much of this is his regular concern and how much is Eros-induced mollycoddling.

“We don’t have time for breaks.”

“Right now, we do. And you’ll be able to think better if you get some air and come back with a new perspective. Never know when you might get an idea from something random.” Tim still doesn’t appear very enthusiastic, and so Jason tries another tack. “It’ll make me feel better at least, I feel like I’ve got ants in my brain.”

Which is what convinces Tim; Jason feels only a little guilty about that, figuring it’s for the greater good.

No one is above manipulation, right?

“Go sit in the family room and queue something up on TV,” he orders, something like enthusiasm manifesting in his stomach. “Casablanca or whatever.”

Tim makes a face. “You really think that’s the best movie idea for right now?”

He considers, then winces.

“Good point. Fine, choose whatever. Something with car crashes and explosions and shit. I’m gonna grab provisions.”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“It’s downstairs, not navigating Gotham’s sewer system,” Jason retorts.

“Okay…” But Tim still looks doubtful.

Which Jason remembers the reason for once he’s in the kitchen making coffee.

Alfred won’t let him cook, insists on whipping up a tray of sandwiches because he doesn’t trust anyone in this house to make healthy food choices. Normally Jason would argue the point, because he eats just fine thank you very much, but his thoughts are straying back to Tim, and the fact he’s not here.

And if he glances at his phone every so often, finger hovering over the Contact button for Tim, well…he can’t do anything about that, can he?

At last, Jason heads for the family room, carrying a tray of coffee and tea.

“I’ve got the drinks, and Alfred said he’s going to bring up the rest of the—”

He freezes when he discovers the room is not occupied with just Tim. Dick is sprawled beside him on the couch—close! Too close!—while Damian hunches over his sketchpad in the corner, Titus and Pennyworth curled beside him, looking mutinous as ever.

“Bruce is still out on patrol. Gordon needed him for something, so he suggested we head back here and check on you,” Dick answers the question that wasn’t asked.

‘Suggested’ my ass.

Unsaid is the knowledge that if anyone has a chance of taking Jason down if he loses it, even if it’s just stalling him until Bruce gets there, Dick and Damian have the best chance.

He can’t even argue the point.

Scowling, Jason wanders over to the end table beside the couch and puts down the tray before handing Tim his coffee. The younger man takes it, sniffs and makes a perplexed face. “How’d you know that’s how I take my coffee?”

“Hell if I know, apparently it’s something I noticed,” Jason mutters as he finishes steeping his tea.

“Aw, Little Wing, don’t I get any?”

“Fuck off and get it yourself,” Jason snaps, still testy about how close Dick is sitting to Tim.

He knows that Dick has no interest in Tim that way, and vice versa, and that he’s just here to protect everyone. But the older man is also the one everyone likes best. Tim already likes him better than Jason, which puts a bad taste in his mouth and—

And he’s getting lost in his thoughts.

“Move,” Jason tells him. “That’s my spot.”

“You can’t have a spot. You don’t even live here.”

“Neither do you.”

“I’m here more often than you are.”

“That’s irrelevant. It was my spot when I lived here but you were too busy being elsewhere and an asshole, so I guess you wouldn’t know that.”

“I can move,” Tim pipes up quietly.

“Or Jaybird could just sit over here beside me,” Dick suggests innocently

Jason is not gritting his teeth. “No thanks. Your ego’s already suffocating me from over here, I don’t need the added burden of your cologne.”

“Guess you’re sitting on the floor then.”

Tim huffs. “If this is an issue, we can just go back to work. We really should be—”

“No, this is supposed to be a break,” Jason interrupts and glares at the older man, “and he’s ruining it.”

God, he sounds like a child. Tim must think so too, because he stands up and points to the space he was occupying. “Sit.”

“No, I don’t—”

“Jason, if you don’t sit, I’m going back to work.”

Which translates to Jason going back to work, since he’ll inevitable end up loitering wherever Tim goes. So, he scowls, and throws himself down in Tim���s spot, arms crossed and glaring at Dick, who watches the whole thing with a wary look on his face.

That gets blocked when Tim sits between them and shoots them both an irritated glare. “Are we good now?”

Not really, Jason thinks but doesn’t say, because Dick is still too close to Tim. A beat later, something occurs to him, and he smirks.

He stretches out, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch. Not touching Tim, or his shoulder, but there’s a heavy implication of hands offfrom his body language. Dick’s eyebrows are in danger of disappearing into his hair, and there’s worry now written in his eyes, but Jason ignores it.

He’s the one who even made this an issue.

Tim, meanwhile, sits very still, his cheeks stained red. Jason shifts with sudden guilt.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, considering pulling his arm back. “I can sit on the floor if—”

“No, it’s fine,” Tim cuts him off, crossing his arms tight against his body. “Now are we watching, or what?”

“You people are ridiculous,” Damian informs them, having watched the whole interchange with mild derision.

“Your face is ridiculous,” Jason shoots back and tries to concentrate on the television screen.

Which is more difficult than he expects.

The movie is boring. Worse, it’s predictable. He makes a mental note to never let Tim choose the movie ever again, at least until he gets some taste.

Early on, he loses interest in the formulaic plot and static characters, instead occupying himself with studying Tim out of the corner of his eye. The kid really isn’t that bad looking, for someone who lives on coffee and microwave dinners. His lashes are longer than he’s seen on most men, and his cheekbones are sharp without making his face look pinched. There’s also the curve of his mouth, where it’s not really smiling, but quirking upward in dry amusement.

It works well with the snark, Jason muses as his eyes grow heavier.

He drifts off, the family room fading away, dim light and tinny sound from the television blurring end ebbing, until it’s gone and he’s no longer there.

He’s in a large chamber, warmed by the dry breeze that winds through the open concept room. The walls are decorated with rich, colourful frescoes, and the floor with meticulous mosaic.

He leans over a wooden table, frowning down at piles of vellum and papyrus. There are discarded styli and other design tools lying across the sheets of military maneuvers and maps. The nearest one shows a hastily sketched city plan of roads and buildings; the one with the most notations reads Вιβλιοθήκη but it barely registers for him.

His attention is instead on the man seated across the room.

It’s Tim—because, of course it is—and he has a stylus stuck behind his ear while he uses another to etch something into a wax tablet. He’s also chuckling and shaking his head.

“You’re the one who wanted to stop here and found another city. What is this, the fourth one?”

“Fifth,” Jason corrects, though he knows Tim is just teasing him. “And it’s all planned now. Someone else can do the heavy lifting. Dinocrates is champing at the bit to get to work.” He shoves at the maps in front of him in frustration. “And I have things to do! You know that bastard Darius is holed up across the Euphrates trying to dictate to me?”

“He knows he’s losing, he’s just trying to cling to some semblance of power.”

“Exactly!”

“That doesn’t mean you should be impatient. Think it through—you’ll regret it if you just rush in. Remember what happened last time? You sliced a relic of the gods in half.”

“I was fulfilling a prophecy.”

“You were vandalizing public property. Call it what it is.”

“They threw me a parade.”

“Because they’re superstitious old goats.”

Jason crosses his arms. “You’re questioning my gods-given destiny to rule all of Asia. I could have your tongue for that.”

“You already have my tongue,” Tim says dryly. “Among other things.”

Though his face remains solemn, his eyes dance with irreverence and a heat that has Jason licking his lips and suddenly wanting to do something about that smile.

Which is when there’s a sound of approaching footsteps beyond the chamber. Tim looks down quickly, attention back to his etchings, and Jason draws himself up with an air of irritation that isn’t completely false; he hates interruptions.

A man wearing something like a linen caftan darts forward and bows.

“Your majesty, the sculptor Lyssipos has arrived.”

“Send him in,” he replies, a bit of the irritation waning.

A minute later, an older man appears, graying hair and beard oiled into curls; behind him, two darker-skinned men follow, carrying a large crate between them. From the way the old man snaps at them it’s obvious they are slaves.

“Your majesty, as always, you look to be in the prime of health!” the old man says; he has a smile like a salesman.

“Conquering the world agrees with me,” Jason answers in dry amusement. “What brings you so long from your workspace?”

“The piece you commissioned is ready.”

He makes a gesture to the men, who are quick to open the top of the wooden box and bring out a two-foot bust. It has been painted lightly with color, less garish than most artists prefer, closer to realistic. The face and shoulders rising from the marble are stocky, nose straight and locks of hair painstakingly hewn from the stone.

“I spent much longer on this than any other before it, majesty, and believe you will be pleased, though I would be humbled to know your thoughts on it.”

“I don’t know,” Jason chuckles as the men place it on the crate, and turns to Tim. “’Wife’, what do I think of it?”

Tim rolls his eyes, and both ignore the scandalized expressions from everyone in the room not privy to their dynamic. He lays his tools gently aside and wanders over to circle the bust with a critical eye. It is some time before he speaks.

“Master Lysippus has done well to hide that receding hairline you’re so worried about.”

Jason scowls, running a hand through his hair—it’s longer in the back than he’s used to—but the expression doesn’t remain long. He’s too busy studying Tim as he continued to evaluate the sculpture. Jason likes the way he wrinkles his brow and the set of his mouth.

Tim traces the statue’s eyelids and cheekbones with a finger, then brushes across the curved lips almost lovingly. Jason is reminded of the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, and rather hopes Tim isn’t about to embrace a piece of stone in his place.

“It is graceful, elegant and has good symmetry,” Tim pronounces at long last, and Lysippus preens. “Although I have to admit, for being the work of the only sculptor the king has ever trusted with his likeness…it doesn’t look a thing like him.”

The earns a sharp gasp, and the old man looks as if he has just been struck. The slaves’ eyes flick toward one another, and no one seems to know what to say to that.

Irritation flares in his chest and Jason feels the inclination to snarl, until he notices the teasing in Tim’s eyes.

That little shit…

“My liegeman is simply enjoying a joke at my expense,” Jason informs the old man. “The piece is perfect. A true artistic marvel, as expected.” He reaches for a piece of vellum and scribbles a hasty note, ignoring Tim’s pained expression at the informal proceedings, and then uses his personal seal to legitimize it. “Take this to Harpalus, Machatas’ son. He oversees the treasury and will see to your needs.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“Now, I’ll say farewell, as I must have some words with philalexandros here about inappropriate humor.”

“Your majesty,” the men echo, and soon Jason is alone with Tim once more.

He grimaces at him. “Do you see what you did? They’re scandalized by your irreverence.”

“Maybe, but you like that about me, and that’s all that matters,” Tim replies, approaching.

“Yes, but no one else is supposed to know that. I’m meant to be the god-king—remember that cynical philosopher in Corinth? He insisted I’m ruled by your thighs.”

“Hm,” Tim considers. “Aren’t you?”

“Rather the opposite,” Jason grins, drawing close to the shorter man. “I seem to recall you having a few choice things to say about my thighs.” He tips a finger beneath his chin. “Come, let’s take this somewhere else.”

“Why?” Tim teases. “Are you afraid your double is watching?”

Jason’s eyes flit to the lifeless stone irises of the statue, and shudders. “Well, now I am…”

He bends closer to Tim, and can feel his breath on his face—

Jason jolts awake to discover he’s nodded off against Tim’s shoulder—no, worse; he’s practically curled into him, face in the crook of his neck.

Tim is sitting rigid, neck and cheeks radiating warmth, though he’s staring carefully ahead of him. Jason hurriedly shoves himself away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Tim croaks.

Dick is watching the whole thing with evident concern his eyes. “You were talking in your sleep.”

“Shit. What did I say?” He doesn’t remember everything from his dream, but he’s pretty sure at the end there he was making some kind of innuendo.

“No idea.”

“It sounded like Greek,” Damian says, glancing up from his sketching. “Not any dialect I’m familiar with, though.”

“Oh. Good.” Jason swallows. “Also, what the hell?”

From everyone else’s expressions, they’re wondering the same thing.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

[p-gloria-blog]

Poor Disarray

-Paige.

My name is Disarray, I’m a serial killer. My husband is always watching, so I can’t look guilty. My daughter Vivian is mentally insane.

You're probably asking yourself, "Why would she even kill in the first place?," which is a good queston considering I have a family to take care of.

I'll tell you why I kill, I kill for the the thrill, when I'm in the middle of torturing someone, I don't have to worry about how I might have to put my daughter in a mental institution, or have to address my husbands trust issues in our close to perfect marriage.

To get back to the story, I've just got done with work and heading to my local bar, to pick up my next victim. As soon as I walk in, I see him, the bar tender.

I make sure my small red dress is in order, I close my iconic red umbrella, and walk up to the bar tender. I see his name tag, David.

“Hey, David!” I said getting his attention, “Could I please get a Jack-Coke?”

“Sure, coming right up,” he said nonchalantly.

I know he just barley started his shift, because of how he is in such a good mood. He was a short but slender man, he had his thin brown hair combed to the side, like you'd see in a cheesy romance film.

“There you go, mam’.”

“Thanks, David,” I smiled, dipping my toe into the pool that was flirting.

He smirked at me, “Hey, what’s your name?”, I could tell that he was expecting something much less exciting then what was acctually gonna happen.

“Delilah,” I said hiding my identity.

“Pretty name,” he said, continuing our flirting.

The thing with David was that he wasn't my type, but he be a perfect murder victim.

---

I got him into the abandoned basement under the bar. On the way down, I knocked him out with some anesthesia. Dragging him wasn’t that big off a chore, considering he was a smaller man. Once I have him tided up, I wake him up with some bleach on a cloth, and brought out my sharpest pocket knife.

To start the torture I made a deep slice in his left cheek. I could tell it was painful becuse the entire time he was squinting. When I was done and stepped back, I could tell he was crying.

"Oh poor David right? No, you souldn't even be crying, I have more shit to cry about then you do, but I don't," I let him know, "If I were you, I'd stop crying."

“Why are you doing this?” he pleaded, tears streaming down his face.

“Well David, for starters, I have problems just like any other person, but mine are a lot more hard to deal with,” I stated a little shaky.

"I bet all those problems were caused because you're a fucking psychopath!", He screamed, blood dripping along his jaw.

"Wow, your the most cocky victim I've ever met."

David was looking as dead as ever, he was like a vicious dog confined by a leash. I dragged the pocket knife across my thumb, I watched my blood pool on my thumb and fall onto the ground.

"What are you going to do, punish me?" David teased.

“Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than punish you,” I said while my knife came flying threw the air and sliced his neck open.

I watched blood overflow from his mouth onto his chest and onto the floor.

“Listen David, my husband is going to be wondering where I am, I’ve got to go,” I said innocently, and left without a care.

---

As I was driving home, Band-Aid on my thumb, I heard the sound of police sirens. By the time the paramedics get to David, he’d already be dead.

“Poor David,” I said obviously being sarcastic.

I started thinking about the events before David’s death. From the flirting, to me convincing him to bring me into the basement, and me knocking him out, I realized- “Fuck me!”

---

As soon as I got home, I ran into the house, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Chad, my husband and the detective who is trying to figure out who is killing all these men, was sitting at the table with our daughter, Vivian, who is shaking uncontrollably, with her long brown hair in her face.

“Hey, honey,” Chad greeted, “The man killer got another one, but this

time they left DNA.”

Chad was peering at me as though he knew something was up.

“what kind of DNA?” I asked calmly, “can they track it?”

Chad was sneering at me now, “They left a drop of blood, I have it right here,” he said waving the test tube in my face. “I have to bring it to the lab tomorrow, would you remind me?” he sweetly asked.

“Of course!” I smiled.

It got me thinking, my husband has my DNA, but he doesn’t know it’s mine. If he finds out its mine, he’ll arrest me. He usually keeps the DNA in his safe, that I don’t have the code to.

--- Vivian's POV

My father was just giving me my medicen, and explaining how I would be going to a mental institution. I was going so that I could be cured, and be normal for once. I know that they won't be able to cure me, no matter how hard the docters try.

My mom dashed in, looking pretty suspicious. I listen to my parents talk about god knows what, I started to think about how my best and only friend, Tate, was taking about how his abusive father was recently murdered, and how happy he was that he was dead.

When they were done talking, my mom walked into their room. I address my father, "Dad, I think Tate is murdering people."

"Honey, I think your thinking about this in the totally wrong way," He was trying to convince me, it wont work, "Tate isn't capibal of killing 13 different people."

"Father, anyone can do anything, thats what you've always told me."

"Fine, would it make you happy if I checked Tates house tomorrow?"

"Yes, thank you."

--- Disarray's POV

Chad just got out of the shower, as he was getting into bed I asked him, “Hey, since I’m taking Vivian to the hospital tomorrow, do you want me to bring the DNA to the lab for you?”

“Thanks, but I can do it myself, I have to check Tate's house tomorrow” he said, exausted.

"Why would you have to do that?" I asked, genuanly curious.

"Vivian thinks that he's killing all these people."

Although Vivian thinks Tate killed the 13 men, I know Chad knows that it was me, and he won't stop till I'm in prison. He's gonna bring that blood to get tested If it'd be the death of him, and I have to stop him.

---

Once Chad was asleep, I gave him a shoot of anesthesia before I dragged him into the bathtub and turned on the water, the water was as cold as ice, and as I grabbed a razor blade from the cupboard, I made sure Vivian was asleep. I turned his wrists over, and started cutting. The one thing I had to make sure of was that this was a suicide, not a murder, although a lot of wives think about killing their spouse, but few do, I'm one of the ones that don't, he did this to himself.

Once I was done, he was drowning in blood, the water was now a deep thick red, paluted with his blood. I tried to find a pulse, maybe to take it back, although he was the love of my life, but there was none. I continued to call the police and explain how my husband killed himself and that he wasn't breathing.

---

The police found my blood from David's murder scene in Chad's bag, so now I'm being charged with 14 charges of murder, so I'm going to be in here for a while.

Chad was dead three months ago, I guess that was the offical end of our marrage. Vivian is staying in a mental institute across the country. I secretly miss my old life, but I can't let anyone know, so to keep my persona, I killed 2 more woman. I know I'll have to kill more so that no one will kill me, but I'll be here a while, so I'll have time to think about my future.

[nomanicsdak]

New Post has been published on https://manicdak.com/the-cure-and-the-cult-and-demokritoss-atomic-dustbin/

The Cure and the Cult and Demokritos's Atomic Dustbin

The Doctor is Out

Well, it’s time to visit our next person for Mom clues. I will consult the quest list and find out that it is none other than Hippokrates himself. Doctor of Doctors. This guy is chillin’ over in Argolis, which doesn’t sound like a place I’ve visited. Yes, there are still vast quantities of map I haven’t even uncovered yet, as I might have mentioned before. It is right nearby where I already am, so I’m going to take some time now to complete some more locations. I find another tomb! Agamemnon’s tomb. There is nothing at all exciting in here except for snakes, so we’ll just complete the location and see Hippokrates.

Sostratos is his name. Thanks, screencap!

JK! I go to Hippokrates clinic and all I find there is his assistant. Soso…that is not his name. I forget what his name is because I did this the other day, but I know it begins with So and probably ends with ates, but it’s definitely not Soktrates. I will update you when I meet this guy again. Also there is a priestess, Chrysis, who is demanding Hippokrates bow down and proclaim that his mad healing skillz came from the Gods and not science. We basically tell her to get lost. I’m sure she will come back to haunt us later. 

In any case, Soso gives me directions and stuff to deliver to Hippokrates and tells me not to mention his bald spot, which I do anyway when I finally get there.

As for Hippokrates, he hasn’t the time for my mommy issues or discussion about his follicular insecurities. Also, why would he even remember Myrrine, he has a zillion patients anyway. I press him for info, but he has tasks for me to do before he can trust and talk. Fiiiiine. First and foremost is some commander stole his notes on brain disease and he needs it to help this dude that is dying on his table right now. He has stiffness of limbs and foaming of the mouth.

Sounds like Tetanus (at first I thought rabies, but we’re dealing and soldiers with possibly rusty swords not animal bites), but still I can’t give Hippokrates the deets, because I am Alexios, not actually gifted in future medical know how even though some future person is peeping through my blood memories. (Remember the premise of Assassin’s Creed? I know, I too forget until I get cut-scened into the future… We haven’t been back to the future in a long time though.) 

Maps Are Hard, Okay?

 I am off to do Hippokrates bidding, because I am all for actually helpful medicines and getting the info I need too. I am supposed to look for this fort in the north of Argolis, but I have looked all over the damn north and have yet to find a damn thing. Is it “north” in Argolis, but south of the city? WHERE IS IT. I am not turning on easy mode for you, Hippokrates. 

**Several tens of minutes later** Please do not laugh, it is actually North of the Ancient Ruins of Perseus not Northern Argolis. This area is clearly labeled on the map, in readable English letters. Excuse while I go hide of shame.

So, I have to sneak into this place without killing anybody, because I made a promise to Hippokrates. An oath, if you will. I don’t sneak so much as I manage to get caught and then hide until the dudes stop looking for me. It is a minor miracle that I was able to get into a hiding space while still inside the fort. I go to meet the doctor there who is definitely amenable to helping me out. Like—why can’t I just send in Ikaros with a note for this dude to meet me outside or something. Because that would be easy.

Notes? What Notes? Side note to the notes: I like this dude’s necklace!

Nothing is easy, especially when Fort Doctor tells me the notes have burned. He did memorize them and will come with me to Hippokrates to help out if I do him a solid and retrieve his bone forceps from some soldiers who keep stealing them for Gods knows what reasons. Whatever they are, they can’t possibly be sanitary. So, I do that, less than stealthily, making this quest so much very longer than it has to be, but I don’t kill anybody. Will this get me secret points to cash in at a later date? Probably not, I don’t think Assassin’s Creed has that much finesse re choices, but you never know when you’re going to need a doctor in the end game and he doesn’t show up because you pissed him off at some point previously.  I mean, I already asked about his bald spot.

So, Fort Doctor and Hippokrates meet and this time the bad news is the patient has died because we were too slow. Was this quest on a secret timer? Because I spent an awful lot of time avoiding killing anybody, or does the guy always die? The world may never know. Anyway, Fort Doctor sticks around to transcribe what he remembers of the notes and help out. 

Turns out Hippokrates does vividly remember my mom. He turned her away when she came to him for help with her depression and sent her to a sanctuary or something. He vowed to never turn away another person after that. So, now I have my next destination! Are we taking bets on whether or not that priestess I met earlier is at this sanctuary? Let’s find out!

Near the River of Dreams, as foretold in the ballads of William the Joel

Gods, Snakes, and Secrets

I am to head to the middle of the valley of dreams.

Why are there two targets here? Do I have to do tasks for multiple priests to get my info? Drat. 

Well, the first guy is less than helpful. In fact he’s a jerk who won’t talk to me because he’s under orders not to talk to mercenaries about Spartan women and injured babies. How very specific. Obviously he’s got the deets. If I rid his sacred bath of snakes then he will talk to me after all, it turns out. I guess he’s not THAT loyal to whoever ordered him to keep his mouth shut.

First he regales me with stories of how the gods heal the sick, which are wild. The bath is a sacred cleansing and then god of healing, Asklepios will come to the patients. As for the snakes, there is a special snake house that they escaped from where people with mind sickness go. The snakes lick them with their tongues and it is like a kiss from the gods. The snakes have escaped their house.

I can’t kill the snakes either, because the priests need their kisses. I have to chill them with cold water so they go back to their own warm snake houses. That doesn’t sound right, but there are no Snake Discovery videos about how to safely rid an ancient Greek bathhouse of sacred God kissing snakes, so what do I know? 

I find the pipe and wonder why this dude couldn’t have turned on the cold water his damn self. This guy is the worst, he doesn’t even tell me anything and walks around laughing like it’s all a big joke. I just get another guy to talk to. 

A Tablet of Truth

The next priest who is carving records into stone is Timoxenos. He is very helpful and talkative despite orders. Turns out Chrysis is the priestess here and it was she who has put the fear of gods into everybody and told them not to talk to me, also, yes, she is the lady who was giving  Hippokrates’s assistant an earful at the beginning of this chapter. What is her deal? Because I didn’t side with her when she was harassing Soso? Also, whoever bet that she would be here, you win! 

Stone Tales

Anyway, Tim over here, leads me to my mom’s stone. She came here wounded with a child and then went on her way. The child did not survive.  I’m going to meet Tim later though, because we get caught and I have to pretend like I’m asking for directions. 

Later, at the Olive tree, we get caught again. I have to defeat Chrysis’s thugs and Tim is nowhere to be found afterward. I hope he ran away! On to the next priest who is probably not going to help me, I guess. 

He is battling some contagion which cannot be helped with the regular sacrifices or snake kisses. I offer to help him, because there are people suffering, for goodness sake. He thinks I want money and whatever nonsense Chrysis has been spewing, but if I bring him an alive white bull—maybe he’ll talk. I’m hoping he’s more of a Tim, less of a bathhouse dude whose name I don’t remember because eff that guy!

Let’s go safely trap a bull! *gets stun arrows ready*

I don’t need them, as it turns out, because bandits already killed the bull. Dammit. Uggghh, now the bull heart I bring back to the priest can only help one person and I have to choose. The farmer whose bull it was (he provides food to the area), a wealthy woman (with 2 kids), or the child (who wants to sacrifice herself for the others). Noooo. Well, I am going to choose the selfless child, 

and then like—refer everybody else to Hippokrates, because he has actual medicines probably? Chrysis can go jump off a bridge. (PS. I can’t actually do that.)

The deed is done, the adults curse my name and vow revenge. And the priest refers me to the oldest man here for more info. I also learn that this old guy he speaks of cut out his own tongue and also I level up! Nice. 

So, the guesthouse where oldie lives is guarded as hell, and I have to bully my way in there, but tbh I’ve had just about enough of Chrysis, so her thugs can be gone. When I finally meet the old man, he is hooking up with a slave. She speaks for him about how the baby was past saving, but eventually it comes out that Chrysis took the infant. (and gave her to the cult, obvies. Since Kassandra is all cult-brainwashed now and certainly alive.) Poor Myrrine thought both her babies were dead, but they were both not. Where the heck is she now?

It’s a Chrysis!

I still don’t know yet. I go seek Chrysis out at a baby saving altar and she tells me all her evil plans over this random screaming infant. 

Ughhh, turns out this woman kidnapped my sister and abused her to “teach her how to be strong.” She wants more children from Myrrine, who must still be in hiding and tbh, I am double over her. Especially now that I know she’s hassling me, not because I sided with Soso, but because she’s a G-D Cultist.

She basically calls me a hypocrite because I’m an assassin myself with a body count too, and then she throws on a Molotov cocktail or some such at the baby. Okay, I may be an assassin, but at least I wouldn’t ever try to torch a baby. This isn’t the Sims. Geez. I save the baby from the fire of course and the kid’s mom thinks it’s all the God’s plan even if the baby had burned. Luckily God sent me and Chrysis can do no wrong. Gee, you’re welcome lady. 

Well, the distraction worked. Chrysis has escaped, and I have to find her again. Alas, her quest-line is ended, so I guess I’m not meant to find her right away. 

I need a break from all those revelations, so I’m going to do a character quest now. It is called “The Dunce conundrum” That sounds fun. (Probably not with my luck.) I have to go talk to a dude called Demokritos “The Laughing Philosopher” to unlock a mystery with some theorems. Cooool, sounds like my worst geometric nightmare, but off we go!

I run across a quest on the way to meet Demokritos. It is a woman wailing about suspicious bandits in a supposedly safe forest kidnapping her husband and her horse. I offer to help and as it turns out, it is a trap set by Chrysis, because she knew I would help. 

Uhh…congrats, lady? On your plan to lure me out when I was already looking for you. Seriously, you didn’t have to kill a dude to face me, you could have just not run away the first time! 

WTF. She is trying to get me to join her! ‘Yo, Alexios, sorry I broke your mother and kidnapped and abused your sister, but you should come work for me now!’ Forget that, I’m going to avenge my sister. 

She calls some plain old footsoldiers to fight me and well—I may have hit her with a hasty and wildly aimed arrow or she might have been stabbed by her lackeys. Honestly, I cannot tell. Either way, I easily defeat the soldiers and return to Chrysis so I can vow to reunite my family before I put an end to her evil child abusing ways for good. I wonder if I have enough shards to upgrade my spear yet. 

Theorems, Theorems, Everywhere, and also a Cyclops

Update: I do!

Also, is it just me or are there new things on spear island? There is a golden Q here now. Did I just miss a legendary creature all the times we came here? Let’s go check it out. 

OK, it’s a literal ass cyclops. (Not a one eyed human gangster) Time to run the fuck away because this thing is ten levels above me still. 

A Thoughtful Demokritos

Should I visit the Laughing Philosopher? Sounds good to me! Bye, bye, Clops. 

I fast travel to Demokritos and he tells me the tales of three theorems that will lead to great treasure, Zeno’s Paradox, the Pythagorean Theorem—no need to search for that one my dude it’s A² + B² = C². You’re welcome, and thank you, math class. The third one is the Golden Ratio. He says he will pay me for my help. 

Of course I will find them, but I want the treasure man. Unless the treasure is more math, then you can have it. Will these three theorem’s combine together to create some sort of mega-theorem, a STEMzord if you will?

Judging by the name of the quest, I feel I’m going to come out of this looking foolish, but let’s find out!

The Zeno’s paradox is first, so let’s head on over there.

On my way there, I stumble across a bear den. “Salty” bear to be exact. He is big and white and I forgot I had my knockout arrows out for that bull, because now Salty is not defeated, he is my friend. Yay! I don’t keep him for long, because taming the bear completes the location as I found out with Lions McGee. So, I just let him go right where I found him and go on about my business. It takes me a while to find this paradox because it is in the very corner of the area I’m looking in. 

There are a lot of incomplete locations here still, but I am off to find Pythagoris’s theorem for now. It is, of course, in the middle of a triangle of islands. I wander all around the area getting attacked by pirates, including one boat that gave me an achievement for defeating! I don’t know what that achievement was, but go me! Pythagoras’s theorem is in an underwater temple along with a cultist clue!

Precious and Salty

Next, the Golden ratio is super easily acquired in a sculptor’s studio. OF course. I learned about that one in art class I now realize. Ah, well, since I already have all the knowledge it’s time to head back to finish the quest. (Except for Zeno? Do I know that one? Maybe Demokritos will tell me when I show him all my scrolls.)

Okay, I’m going cheat and look this up because Demo here is asking me trivia questions about these concepts that I get to multiple choice answer and I’m assuming he’s assuming I already read it, so I might as well already read it. 

I don’t know. Infinite divisibility  sounds like the best of my options, but I read about Achilles and the Tortoise and am very confused. Why are we giving this reptile a head start anyway? Well, divisibility was the right answer to impress Demokritos, but I still don’t get it. 

As for the Pythagorean theorem, according to Demokritos this is the greatest breakthrough of all time. Yeah! Triangles!

And the Golden ratio is in everything and everybody or nothing at all, making things mathematically right and beautiful in the world.

As it turns out Demokritos really is creating his own STEMzord mega-theory. Let’s see what it is. He postulates that as we break down things into infinitely divisible parts then there is more space between them. Huh, is he talking about like…atoms? quantum physics? Is he going to invent time travel or a shrink ray or be the father of the memory machine? (At this point, I wiki good old Demo who is a person that did indeed exist like many characters in this game. We are talking atoms! Yeah!) 

He hopes to unite the world with this theory anyway. TBH this kind of science seems like it might do the opposite at this point in time, or maybe not and I’ve just been dealing with too many fanatically religious cultists lately. (Nope, I look this up too and nobody takes his atomic hypothesis seriously until the 19th damn century. I’m learning a lot on this quest.)

Ahah! He does have an ulterior motive though. He’s creating his STEMzord mega-theory to impress a girl. Of course he is. I am not one for wasting time, so I convince him to go see her now. Unfortunately there is a crapload of bandits at her house. No! Also, they are a good seven levels above me. Err—can I put this quest on hold after I convinced Demokritos to come here? I didn’t think I was going to need a save point before I accepted the next part of his nerd-quest! Will he just wait for me to grind? Let’s find out on the next installment of !Dakplays Assassin’s Creed!

[kinetic-elaboration]

January 3: The 100 2x08 Spacewalker

Spacewalker is probably a bad episode to watch when I’m feeling sad like this but... what can you do? (I’d say ‘skip the episode’ but I mean... it never gets cheerier so.)

The Grounders as a whole don’t intimidate me at all since I’ve seen their ineptitude too many times but I will never be over those costumes/masks.

See okay this Finn thing... On the one hand (I know I’ve said all this before), Raven is right that asking for Finn in exchange for a truce isn’t an offer. The offer has already been made. Clarke made it. The Reaper cure for backing the army away/maybe even forming an alliance. (This is a win-win-win for the Grounders btw: the war they’re so intent on fighting has no clear cause or purpose, so they lose nothing by just forgetting about it, and they gain a lot from the Reaper cure and anti-MW allies.) And Lexa accepts that offer, but then when she gets what she wants she demands more. I recognize that she is in a position of power and Clarke one of weakness, but I still think her attitude is dishonorable and bad faith and it pisses me off.

BUT I also don’t think that it’s inherently wrong for Finn to be punished by the Grounders for a crime against Grounders. I think their method of justice and punishment is bad but this isn’t actually a “Blood must have blood” scenario. It’s more like... how societies operate now? Because it’s, you know, pretty reasonable? Like if I went to France and killed someone, you can bet I’d be tried and imprisoned in France. So it’s really not, as Bellamy says, “insane.” (But then of course they have no concept of international law because they have never known any other ‘nation’ before so I guess..IC??)

Similarly, if the Grounders committed crimes against Arkadians, it would be fair for the Arkadians to punish them. (And I’d like to say ‘and they would and wouldn’t think twice’ but then I remember Ilian in S4 and just....ugh.....) (They should have killed him is what I’m saying.)

BUT it’s also gauche that Finn’s people are so quick to just hand him over. Unsurprising--from a world-building perspective I appreciate when the delinquents are considered nobodies, as they should be--but gauche.

Clarke always wants to save everyone, to find solutions to everything. Promise first, figure out the details later.

Also love Bellamy in the background pushing people away from Raven and trying to diffuse the situation, too.

“You’re running fluid dynamic specs while we’re having sex” is honestly such a self-burn though? Like if that’s what she’s doing, the sex isn’t good.

I love the set of Raven’s room. Whenever I picture the Ark, I always blur the details but these spaces are so cool. Hers looks basically like a mechanic’s workshop.

Every SINGLE time I see one of Finn’s pieces of metalwork art I think about that post laying out how Finn/Murphy could have been a thing and I just physically can’t stand it it made so much sense.

Speak of the devil.

All these people have their issues with Finn but when it’s time to protect one of their own (one of t100) they are all in. Like literally they are willing to turn Alpha Station into a fortress for one person.

And like honestly turning on Murphy though? I guess I understand it if we’re willing to say they were truly Finn’s friends, and given that Murphy uh killed some people and tried to kill Bellamy but--I never got the impression that Bellamy liked Finn and Clarke has many reasons to be upset with him. But I guess people are just like this: good at compartmentalizing. Murphy is just an easier target for anger right now, and you can’t be second guessing your defense of Finn when there’s literally a whole village of warriors out to get him. I guess from Clarke it’s a practical position, which she’s very good at. In a way perhaps... she is more practical than strictly loyal?

And Murphy always available to tell unvarnished truths. (That Finn was looking for Clarke isn’t relevant to blame or morality--it doesn’t make it her fault--but it does go to the heart of why she’s looking for scapegoats.)

I agree with Lincoln, obviously, over Octavia: Lxa would 1000% sacrifice one of her own in Clarke’s position, no question. Because she’s cold, but also it’s tactically and arguably morally the right thing to do. Lxa’s positions are often black and white--so are everyone’s--but O’s are like downright naive. (”She can’t ask us to hand over one of our own! Would she do that??”)

I can’t believe Clarke is so shocked that Lincoln would turn on Finn. Oh yeah this guy who was nice to him once but subsequently massacred his village? Yeah, they’re not friends anymore lol.

I feel like I didn’t have much sympathy toward this when I first watched it but I do like Lincoln’s line “We all have a monster inside of us. We’re all responsible for what it does when we let it out.” I think I disliked it because it made me uncomfortable tbh. (What still makes me uncomfortable is how much blame Lincoln gets, from the narrative, for actions he took when he really wasn’t in his right mind. Like... yes it was still him and something to live with, but he wasn’t just an addict, he was made an addict through torture by an enemy... seems perhaps a situation where more slack is warranted. Anyway.)

That said the Grounder torture machine is just...... leave me alone, I don’t need this gratuitous violence. I’m neither shocked nor impressed.

What they should have done was try Finn initially themselves because while I do stand by everything I said about facing Grounder punishment for crimes against Grounders, by the standards of his people, that torture is itself a moral wrong. And that’s reason to refuse extradition. But you can’t take the high ground about acceptable punishments when you let a war crime go with a ‘well, we don’t have a judiciary so I guess you’re pardoned?? idk??’

Another thing that I wish Clarke or someone had mentioned is that “He must suffer the pain of 18 deaths. Then we can have peace” may not be true at all because L has already shown that she does not act in good faith. There is every chance Clarke will hand over Finn, he’ll be tortured and killed, and then L will say “I also want [x arbitrary number] of your people as penance for frying my warriors” or “I also want access to your magical ship because I said so” or “I also want you to do a song and dance for me because it would be funny”--and she can say this because she has this army. And if Clarke says no at any point in the long litany of requests, L can just send the army in. She’s made no gestures of good will at all. So it would be nice if someone showed some skepticism about what good handing over Finn would really do--based on what they know at this point in the narrative.

Abby versus Jaha: I’m with Jaha not because I really agree with him--this is the period where he’s pissing me off--but because Abby taking the high ground is just so......... I mean yeah when it suits her?? I’m not sending a child to his death bitch please you already did that.

Clarke was legitimately disgusted by Finn just like 1-2 eps ago and now she’s ready with the excuses? It’s too much. I semi-understand her, as I said before re: compartmentalizing, but also I expect better from her. He wasn’t trying to look for anyone or save anyone; he was off his nut in a rage.

That love confession is so manipulative. And so weird... I mean he obviously doesn’t love her lol. But then again I always complain about these characters not acting like teenagers and then whenever one does I’m like “stop being so unreasonable CHILD.”

And Clarke with the awkward ‘mmm just gonna ignore you said stuff about love and forgiveness.’

Love the Griffin / Blake power walk.

This was back when I was still invested in Kabby (I loved them up until the moment they got together, then my interest level plummeted tbqh.) Kane’s return with such like off-center romance.

Legit question but considering the pretty amazing defensive structure they have in Alpha Station plus their guns and, like, General Technology... could they have won a battle? All of the negotiations, private and public, rely on the assumption that they could not but... I mean the 100 won at the end of S1 with, arguably, less.

I love that you can see the trees through the windows of the Ark, and some of the trees are coming in.

“I wasn’t a prisoner, but I wasn’t allowed outside either.” So.... you were a prisoner?

Abby, Kane, and Marcus are one fucked up trio. “The former Chancellor is being detained for treason.” Aka disagreeing with Abby. Kane: wide-eyed wtf??? Abby: oh and btw I’m keeping this job for as long as I feel like it; who’s the chancellor now bitch? Like power’s just a hot potato they throw among the three of them.

I do not at all believe L would actually agree to letting the Ark prosecute and execute Finn as a sufficient fulfillment of their end of any bargain. I think that would be a smart compromise but I don’t believe it of her tbqh. Still it is a best case scenario and Abby putting up her nose at the possibility of Finn being guilty of “war crimes” (which like he definitely is???) (except in the sense that there’s probably no real ‘rule of war’ in this universe and thus ‘war crimes’ is impossible to define but other than that...)--just drives me nuts.

I know I’m saying a lot of inconsistent things--that I think Finn should be punished but that I also think Grounder “justice” is gross and immoral and L is inherently untrustworthy--but basically it comes down to: they keep talking in terms of practicality, and no one is bringing up the moral dimension. Does he deserve to be punished in some way by some one for massacring 18 innocent civilians? Because I think just about anyone with any sort of moral dignity would say yes.

Anyway Raven’s really hot.

Really wish there’d been more a sense of where the delinquents are versus the main population. They only seem to use the majority of the Arkers when they need some conflict or some extras, but they don’t have, like, a real or consistent pov.

We NEEDED those Kane & Lxa scenes honestly. He keeps on saying things like “I spent time with her” and “I know her” and “she’s a visionary” but I’m gonna be honest I saw 0 visionary qualities in her, I legit do not get this, and you can’t say shit like this without backing it up. Like is she a “visionary” for keep them alive this long or is she just being reasonably intelligent by attempting to extract as much as she can from them, knowing she could kill them at any time? I mean her calculations are pretty easy as long as she has no honor--which she doesn’t--so I don’t see anything visionary or remarkable, even, about it. If she had to decide whether or not to accept non-torture punishment for Finn, that might be somewhat harder--but even then, nothing like what Abby, Clarke, et.al. are going through. She could prob. just lie and say she saw them torture Finn and now he’s dead (even if he weren’t even dead lol) and get away with it since she’s such a good liar generally and has no qualms about it.

What about anything she has experienced here makes Abby think that “showing Indra she understands her pain” will do literally anything?

I actually think Finn’s desire not to shoot that Grounder when he could, and would have had some reason to, is interesting--like he really did snap at the beginning of the season, and now he’s more “himself” again. I know this whole story line was devised to get him off the show but it actually could have, hypothetically, been a good exploration of living with long-term guilt, integrating a part of yourself you didn’t think existed into your more general, and still mostly accurate, vision of yourself. (There are a lot of other characters who could do this too obviously... Finn’s really the only one that I can think of who just snapped out of and then back into place, though.)

Damn that burned out dropship. (Definitely did not describe it right in that fic whoah-well.)

“Murphy, what are you doing here?” / “I believe I was invited.” Murphy just wants to be one of the group, ultimately. I really do believe that. I find it kind of touching and sad. (Especially since he’s only there to be thrown to the wolves by Raven lol. Not quite as hard to watch as him shooting her but close.)

Nurse!Murphy back at it again, helping Bellamy with Clarke.

I’m sorry but I just really don’t get why Finn is the hill Abby wants to die on lol. Yeah he’s your daughter’s friend and you’re rightfully guilty about the 100 situation and he’s only 17 or so but--he actually did what the Grounders said he did? NOW is the time to go all peace and love with Indra like ‘let’s stop the blooodshed!!!’?? Okay well you can start with not condoning war crimes.

People get so up in arms about the Finn cheating thing and honestly, not a great move--but I have some sympathy for the situation. Finn and Raven were not romantically compatible; they’re all young; and feelings really do change. They handle the situation with a remarkable degree of maturity overall--Finn admitting he shouldn’t be let off the hook, Raven emphasizing that they’re family, Clarke refusing to be the other woman in S1, Raven and Clarke becoming friends.

“The things that we’ve done to survive, they don’t define us” is all well and good--for someone suffering from guilt over actual impossible decisions, or self-defense killing, or killing in war. But Finn really didn’t have to kill a bunch of civilians, he didn’t rationally think he had to (he had Murphy there telling him he was being irrational), and he didn’t accomplish anything or serve any loftier goal by killing them. So basically what I’m saying is, Clarke, let him be guilty. He should feel guilty about this. And if you think he should live, he’ll never be able to move on until he acknowledges his wrong-doing.

Similarly, though, “maybe this is who we are now” is also rich--speak for yourself, buddy.

“It’s a capital crime” is such a dumbass thing to say, since the pilot established that “capital” is tied to the age of the perpetrator not the action taken. But I guess just as an audience reminder of the stakes.

Also this says “a year ago” but it clearly wasn’t a year ago--Finn says he’ll only be in the Sky Box for a few months, and he’s still there as of the pilot, and S1 is only about a month long--so Raven is 18, not 19 as she’s usually portrayed.

Anyway saving Raven from getting arrested was a legitimately good and noble thing he did.

I feel like we as a fandom collectively underestimate Raven’s ruthlessness. Like she really would have turned over Murphy instead of Finn and I truly find that sickening. I know that he shot her and that probably contributes to her sense that he’s expendable but it’s just such an obviously insanely wrong thing to do. Even Bellarke, not exactly paragons of virtue here, are like ‘woah, that’s a bridge too far, even for us.’ Also I really think Murphy has a thing for Raven and I really think that he was touched and complimented when she asked him to be part of the group, which just makes the betrayal so much worse--and really hits me in a softer part of myself, because this is more relatable to me than, like, guns and war.

Never a good sign when your friend says a prayer to you solemnly before just leaving for a few minutes.

Honestly it’s so... like darkly comic that after an entire episode of people talking about Finn, he ultimately just surrenders himself. Fitting. Satisfying.

Ugh, Kane’s that annoying guy who calls men younger than him “son.”

Okay the last ten minutes is just like gratuitous sadness.

So like basically we’re to assume from that conversation with Lincoln that Kane’s allegedly great idea about Ark justice wouldn’t have worked out, I guess?

I don’t agree with Lxa on anything but this isn’t a hill I would die on if I were her, either. Like maybe sometimes showing mercy can be revolutionary and maybe you can even get away with it--but this isn’t the situation where that’s possible. Finn isn’t a child by their standards (he’s probably about Lexa’s age?) and he isn’t an innocent. So “show my people how powerful you are” isn’t a great argument. She isn’t powerful enough to stop an execution like this, one so popular and--unnecessary torture aside--basically justified according to the laws and customs of the relevant societies.

Also super pisses me off that Clarke is comparing herself and Finn. Burning 300 warriors during a battle in order to save yourself is absolutely not the same as opening fire on a village of civilians and she is certainly smart enough to know the difference. I know--an emotional time, a last ditch effort. But I’m annoyed because having watched 4 seasons of this show and tumblr-watched a couple more I LEGITIMATELY do not know if the writers understand the difference. Like I think I might be supposed to be taking Clarke seriously here.

Like Clarke does need to wrestle with her own guilt--but this is still nuts.

Also she has never actually wrestled with her own guilt and neither has anyone else: it’s either ‘woe is me I’m so guilty’ or ‘what guilt? lol’

I mean Olav has already done the whining about his own un-atoned sin thing WAY better so....

ALTHOUGH back to everything I said about Kane’s proposal--ultimately, that’s what Clarke just unilaterally did: she executed Finn, which is probably what any fairly applied bit of Arker justice would have decreed--without torturing him--dealt with his very real crime on Camp Jaha’s terms, basically, not the Grounders’. And Lexa accepted this because it was too late to change it and ultimately she’d already gotten pretty close to what she wanted and could see that there was more to extract from Clarke’s people (as anti-MW allies) alive than dead.

This is obviously a very emotional and wrenching scene but I just can’t allow myself to feel it right now because I’m very upset and this is my distraction.

I do remember being actually floored when I watched it the first time though.

I’m going to tentatively say I agree with the opinion that Raven never got over Finn’s death and Clarke’s part in it--that they were never truly friends again after this.

Bravenlarke are such a physically attractive ot3.

Overall a good episode but not a fun or enjoyable episode. I miss my MW kids.