#tam doesn't get paid enough for this

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Danny and Tim are twins- And Vlad is the first to figure this out in his attempts to get DavlCo a new investor.

---

Tim was getting the creeps from this guy. It was as if the room got colder, the seconds got longer and the room's shadows moved to their own volition. He stared Tim down less like 'You punk kid' and more like 'You'll be mine' in a way that Tim didn't appreciate. At all.

The guy kept setting meetings up despite Tim's direct insistance that Wayne Enterprises would never touch DalvCo- not with a ten foot pole or for all the money in the world. Some how Tim's board of directors kept getting swindled by the guy and... therefore more meetings. More looks from this guy that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

Vlad asked him if he ever went by Timothy- Tim couldn't reply "that's not my name" fast enough. It apparently inspired the guy somehow. More meetings that Tim can't reject because of board members pop up.

It's been long determined that Jason doesn't get involved with Wayne Enterprises, but after the Uncle and a few other paid-actor solutions go up in flames- Tim decides to call up his older brother to act as a bodyguard and tell this guy to fuck off for the final time.

Jason apparently also gets the Heebee-jeebies from this asshole but his message is loud and clear to Vlad. There's a flash of green and then all of sudden it's just Tim and Jason in the room... Only Jason isn't acting like himself.

Putting it together- Tim reaches for his contingency F stash of Knock out gas and doses Jason. Vlad doesn't re-appear so Tim assumes that to mean that he'll be trapped in Jason's person until Jason wakes up.

Walking out of the meeting room with his bus of a brother over his shoulders- Tim quickly asks Tam to reach out to Vlad's Emergency contact. Surely there is someone in this man's company willing to explain what the fuck Vlad was trying to pull. Tim theoretically can keep Jason drugged asleep for a long time- surely that threat can get him somewhere.

The day drags on as Tim continues to keep Jason unconscious and eventually Tam lets him know that someone is here for Vlad. She says it with the addition of one of their codes- He mentally prepares himself for the worst and then... His doppleganger walks through the door? What the fuck?

Tim and Danny puzzle about one another for a little too long and Jason wakes up- Vlad pops out immediately. A shouting match between Danny and Vlad commences and...

"Man I knew our family had unresolved issues but seriously what the fuck has your clone dealing with?" Jason asks, as though he could watch this all day with pop corn.

"You made more clones?!" Danny screamed at Vlad who's only response is "Not this one! This one is actually polite!"

"Fuck you!" Tim and Danny reply in tandem.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Wheel of Time! Chapter 5: Winternight

Welcome back to the reread that has caused both my tablet and my fire cube to glitch out in horrible, frustrating ways for no apparent reason! There are many spoilers going forward (like the fact that this will cause me to snap), so if you don't want that sort of thing, run.

In the Two Rivers that often included three or four generations under one roof, including aunts, uncles, cousins, and nephews. Tam and Rand were considered out of the ordinary as much for being two men living alone as for farming in the Westwood.

Makes you wonder what did happen to Tam's family. Presumably there were some deaths (maybe that's why he left the region in the first place; trying to get away from grief), but you'd think he'd have some cousins or something that would merit a mention. Or maybe the al'Thors were incredibly inbred and used to be a Congar/Coplin tier clan until they all died.

“I’ll start some stew for supper. And as long as we’re here, we might as well get caught up on a few chores.”

Already it's the worst Bel Tine ever, but don't worry Rand, it will get worse.

A broad oaken table was the main feature of the room other than the fireplace, a table long enough to seat a dozen or more, though there had seldom been so many around it since Rand’s mother died.

Because of course it's up to women to coordinate social events, even if they're outlanders who don't have the decades of social networking that their husbands do.

I skipped over a whole bunch of chores, btw. It's good scene setting but there's not much else to say about it.

...The Travels of Jain Farstrider sat on the table...

Hi Jain! For the first few books, your own title sounded like something rather old and well-established, The Travels of Marco Polo not as seen by his contemporaries but by the people of the 1500s. Now we know it's actually a very recent tome, not much older than Rand, which means that he's lucky to have a copy at all. Maybe Tam bought it in Illian.

There's actually a lot of domesticity stuff I'm skimming over. It helps set the calm mood that is about to be so violently shattered.

When Tam came back, Rand stared in surprise. A thick belt slanted around Tam’s waist, and from the belt hung a sword, with a bronze heron on the black scabbard and another on the long hilt. The only men Rand had ever seen wearing swords were the merchants’ guards. And Lan, of course. That his father might own one had never even occurred to him.

Of course even before that we get the mounting dread as Tam locks and bars the doors and starts rearranging the furniture.

Rand doesn't recognize the significance of the heron, which is a little odd. You'd think the sign of the blademaster would be exactly the sort of thing that stories would harp on about endlessly, like how Rand never shuts up about his man crush Lan.

“I got it a long time ago,” Tam said, “a long way from here. And I paid entirely too much; two coppers is too much for one of these. Your mother didn’t approve, but she was always wiser than I. I was young then, and it seemed worth the price at the time. She always wanted me to get rid of it, and more than once I’ve thought she was right, that I should just give it away.”

And this right here is virtually all the info we get about what might have happened in the Tam prequel that Jordan wanted to do. Two coppers doesn't seem like anything other than a complete steal for such a valuable blade, but something about Tam's statement makes me wonder if there's a lot more going on than just spending two coppers.

He had always vaguely supposed his father must have gone outside—his mother had been an outlander...

Shame that in all your years you never asked your dad about how he met your mother. Usually we get some kind of nod about how "Father never spoke of Mother" in these kinds of stories but Jordan's never actually said that and Tam seems quite open and supportive so it's just odd, like his lack of any relatives in the area. I will now endeavor to never think of these incongruities again because they don't really matter, they're just the kind of thing that you look back on make you go, "Oh yeah, these guys are fictional and not real people".

Then the Trollocs show up!

Rand felt the beginnings of an odd sort of relief. Whoever this was, it was not the black-cloaked rider.

Welp, Rand's gone into shock. Thankfully he snaps out of it and...

The creature roared, part scream of pain, part animal snarl, as boiling water splashed over its face.

Even in the first book the Trollocs are getting punked. This is only a distraction before Tam actually takes it down, but still.

Shadows, he told himself. Only shadows.

Yes Rand, the Shadow has finally come for you. Save this feeling that it's a completely inconsequential copy of what's real and true; it'll help you later. (Sadly, he will not.)

“They’re coming in the back!” The words came out in a croak, but at least they came out. He had not been sure they would. “I’m outside! Run, father!”

He starts and ends on good notes, but when you're being hunted by the forces of darkness you never give away your position even a little.

In mid-stride Tam whirled, not running toward Rand, but at an angle away from him. “Run, lad!” he shouted, gesturing with the sword as if to someone ahead of him. “Hide!”

After Rand gives away his position AGAIN, Tam bravely covers for him. You shoulda spent less time on meditation and more on emergency situations. What kind of novel by a semi-libertarian type is this that our heroes who live out in the woods besides a minimalist democratic government aren't crazy preppers whose irresponsibly placed bear traps have already killed fifteen government agentsShadowspawn?

Suddenly a hand closed over his mouth from behind, and an iron grip seized his wrist. Frantically he clawed over his shoulder with his free hand for some hold on the attacker. “Don’t break my neck, lad,” came Tam’s hoarse whisper.

Coulda whispered quicker. Geez, Rand probably pissed himself.

They kill for the pleasure of killing, so I’ve been told.

Don't sound too different from real people, do they Tam?

But that’s the end of my knowledge, except that they cannot be trusted unless they’re afraid of you, and then not far.

Is it just me, or is this rather an odd piece of trivia to know? Most good people aren't going to need to know this. Maybe Kari *had been* a Darkfriend back before she settled down and knew these things from experience?

No, of course not. But it's funny to imagine and since we don't get a prequel anymore we're all welcome to come up with the stupidest headcanons imaginable.

If he had to do it against a Trolloc he was surely just as likely to run instead, or freeze stiff so he could not move at all until the Trolloc swung one of those odd swords and. . . . Stop it! It’s not helping anything!

Realism doesn't hurt, Rand. It's good to acknowledge that battles are scary and that since you're not trained you're not likely to make a positive difference.

Creeping from tree to tree, he tried to make a plan, but by the time he reached the edge of the woods he had made and discarded ten. Everything depended on whether or not the Trollocs were still there.

Jordan, being a military man, is smart enough to know that plans don't really last in conflict, and this spreads to Rand. He also is again aware of his limitations and knows that if the house has Trollocs in it his only smart choice is to run back.

It was the light that decided him. The barn was dark. Anything could be waiting inside, and he would have no way of knowing until it was too late. At least he would be able to see what was inside the house.

Of course, you'll be quite visible as well, especially if there's anything in the barn watching. Can't blame you for not thinking everything through though - and luckily, nothing is in the barn, so that's all going to work out.

Four twisted bodies made a tangle in the remnants of the furnishings. Trollocs.

Tam did pretty fucking well to only be semi-mortally wounded while taking out four and distracting all the rest, especially for someone who claims to have had no experience with Shadowspawn, which are quite distinct from human opponents in several ways.

“Others go away. Narg stay. Narg smart.”

In a book filled with early installment weirdness, Narg really takes the cake, huh? He's also incredibly popular, though much like another incredibly popular non-human in this series I don't really get it. He's a fun but to me very forgettable meme. (NOTE TO SELF: Put in more of these hot takes in the hopes of getting angry replies to boost viewership.)

Did Jordan intend for there to be more distinct Trolloc characters over the course of the series and just never got around to it, or had to abandon them as the plans changed? Was this just laying the groundwork for Shaidar Haran? The world will never know.

Desperately he brought his sword up. The monstrous body crashed into him, slamming him against the wall. Breath left his lungs in one gasp. He fought for air as they fell to the floor together, the Trolloc on top. Frantically he struggled beneath the crushing weight, trying to avoid thick hands groping for him, and snapping jaws.

Rand's first fight. Like so many of his physical confrontations, this one ends ignominiously. His most "epic" fight is in a Sanderson book and besides that one I feel like most of his battles have high prices, ambiguous outcomes, or other weirdnesses that stop him from being Gilgamesh and keep him more at a Samwell Tarly kind of level when it comes to combat. You'd think the dude would have clued in sooner that his focus wasn't meant to be on the material world, but he is just a sheepherder I guess.

He was sure he was forgetting any number of things they would need, but Tam was waiting, and the Trollocs were coming back. He gathered what he could think of on the run.

He actually does pretty well. In a crisis, Rand tends to have a pretty clear head when he's not succumbing to madness. Anyway, he heads into the barn (it's empty and the wagon is wrecked) and promptly breaks down the wagon to at least have something to carry Tam in.

When the shaft fell free, he looked at the sword blade in wonder. Even the best-sharpened axe would have dulled chopping through that hard, aged wood, but the sword looked as brightly sharp as ever.

Every fantasy series needs to have magical blades that don't need sharpening no matter how often they're used. Jordan was probably one of the first to state that it all happened because the wizards and witches forging the blades were manipulating them at the atomic level. Even this is a cliche in the modern era though.

That thought was like a beacon as he pulled on his coat and bent to tend Tam’s wound. They would be safe once they reached the village, and Nynaeve would cure Tam. He just had to get him there.

I'm starting to wonder if any of these chapters will end without irony at this rate. Rand does *not* have the gift of Foretelling, that much is for sure.

Anyway, tune in next time for Rand's desperate trek across the Westwood. I'm sure it's just a travelogue chapter and that absolutely no life-changing revelations will be had.

[iviarellereads]

The Eye of the World, Chapter 5 - Winternight

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Dead tree icon) In which that escalated quickly.

Rand and Tam arrive home the sun halfway from noon to sunset, to find everything in order at their relatively small home. They're unusual for having just the two living there, as most families live three or four generations in a house.(1)

A fair bit of time is just spent establishing that they are indeed farmers and know what they're about, and that the effects of the long winter are causing the animals to be less fruitful as well as a delay in the growing season. They do the daily chores, attending to the animals, checking on the early plantings, chopping wood and mending tack. As dusk falls, Tam breaks Rand out of a woodchopping fugue and suggests they get some supper and sleep before tomorrow.

At one point in the evening, Rand notes Tam locking the doors, something that's never been done in his life, and then Tam retrieves something from the chest under his bed: a sword, with a heron on the scabbard, the hilt, and the blade.(2) Rand is enamored but confused, Tam says he should have gotten rid of it, he paid too high a price and it's no good for farming, but maybe they'll be glad of it tonight.

Then comes the knock at the door. Then thumping. Then the door bursts in, the lock laying almost exploded across the floor.

Rand felt the beginnings of an odd sort of relief. Whoever this was, it was not the black-cloaked rider. Then he saw the curled ram’s horns on the head that brushed the top of the doorway, and where mouth and nose should have been was a hairy muzzle. He took in all of it in the space of one deep breath that he let out in a terrified yell as, without thinking, he hurled the hot kettle at that half-human head.

Tam tells Rand to run for the woods, and Rand is ashamed of how quickly he obeys, until he realizes the back door is locked, too. He slips out a window just as another creature breaks down that door, and as he listens, he hears both boots and hooves across the wooden floor inside.

After some scuffles, chases, and finally running into the woods, Tam finds Rand and confirms that these are Trollocs, and they're no myth. They have the properties of the animals that are part of them, so some can see or hear or smell particularly acutely, but they're sensitive to bright light and lazy, so if they can evade the creatures long enough, they should give up.

Unfortunately, Tam's hurt, and already running a fever. Rand has to sneak back to the house for Bela, the cart, and blankets, to get him to town. The sheep are all dead, and the house's contents in splinters and shards.

As Rand looks for a waterskin, one of the Trollocs comes back, and starts telling Rand to put the sword down, he just wants Rand to talk to the Myrddraal. Rand panics momentarily at the mention of Myrddraal, another myth, and starts to lower his arms. When the Trolloc lunges at him, he raises the sword quickly and makes his first, messy, horrifying kill.

He gathers what few things are still intact, which doesn't include his bow. Rand uses the sword to take some of the wood from the broken cart. Marveling that the sword stayed sharp even after chopping old, hardened ash that would dull any axe,(3) Rand makes his way back to his father. He finds the older man asleep, and touches his face gently to check his fever.

The touch roused Tam, but only into a hazy wakefulness. “Is that you, boy?” he breathed. “Worried about you. Dreams of days gone. Nightmares.” Murmuring softly, he drifted off again. “Don’t worry,” Rand said. He lay Tam’s coat and cloak over him to keep off the wind. “I’ll get you to Nynaeve just as quick as I can.” As he went on, as much to reassure himself as for Tam’s benefit, he peeled off his bloodstained shirt, hardly even noticing the cold in his haste to be rid of it, and hurriedly pulled on the clean one. Throwing his old shirt away made him feel as if he had just had a bath. “We’ll be safe in the village in no time, and the Wisdom will set everything right. You’ll see. Everything’s going to be all right.” That thought was like a beacon as he pulled on his coat and bent to tend Tam’s wound. They would be safe once they reached the village, and Nynaeve would cure Tam.(4) He just had to get him there.

=====

(1) Yep, the nuclear family is an incredibly new and incredibly American development. A lot of places in the world still live with many generations, and even several of the siblings of each generation staying in the one home. It can get crowded, but it's also a way of distributing responsibilities: if everyone's together, everyone can work together and cover every base. (2) Now, why would a farmer like Tam al'Thor have a fancy sword like that? It's no wonder he thinks it cost too much, it must have cost a fortune, with delicate detail work as described… but is a monetary cost all he means by it? (3) And weirdly strong, to hold up to that kind of usage without needing sharpening. Just what is this heron-marked sword? (4) I sure hope you're right about that, my lad, for your sake and his.

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [9/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. Jason and Isabel Ardila

Author’s Note: Exactly what it says on the can. I’ve had this idea kicking around my head for a while, getting in the way of finishing the next chapter of Philtatos and I figured if I started jotting down the basics of it, I could stop thinking about it.

________________________________________________________________

Jason really wants to say something caustic to Tim about that Robin comment—about how it’s something Dick would say, or that he’s watched one too many Hallmark specials.

But the thing is, he can’t argue the logic.

There is something about being Robin that creates a bond, and an inherent something you can trust in. They might disagree, and fight and even try to kill each other on occasion, but when it’s down to the wire, there’s no one you can trust more to have your back.

Not even Batman.

Which is why Jason hefts his duffel bag and allows Tim to lead him up the stairs of the open-concept apartment, through the upper floor that’s just as unnaturally clean as the rest of the house. Jason suspects that’s down to not really being lived in; his replacement probably spends more time falling asleep in his secret nest than anywhere else. Jason would bet his no-longer-extant trust fund that the only bit of the house that Tim spends much time it is in front of the flatscreen TV in his living room, playing on one of the fancy gaming consoles.

“This room’s yours for as long as you want it,” Tim says, disrupting Jason’s musings. “That’s the bathroom over there—clean towels in the cupboard under the sink—and my room’s down the hall if you need me for anything. Just shout.”

Jason takes a wary step into the room and blinks.

Tim probably thinks it’s entirely modest, but the room is huge, possibly bigger than some of his bolt holes; it’s practically its own self-contained unit minus a kitchen or bathroom. In addition to the usual trappings of a bedroom, there’s a loveseat and coffee table by the window, a desk and shelves in the corner, and another flatscreen on the wall opposite the queen-sized bed. Even with all of that, it doesn’t even feel crowded.

In fact, they could bring up all the stuff Tam Fox bought, store it here, and Jason still would be in no danger of knocking into any of it.

The reminder of the pile of baby things downstairs makes him frown again. Just how much help is he going to be accepting? He doesn’t take charity well under normal circumstances and receiving it from Tim—fellow Robin or not—is a bitter pill.

Could be worse, he tells himself a beat later. It could be Dick or Bruce, and then he’d have to endure the double-teaming of concern and disappointment from both.

Right. Disappointment from Bruce. Because that’s new.

Still, he feels a very pervasive and irritating sensation in his stomach at having to take Tim Drake’s help, especially after everything he’s done to him in the past. He sort of wishes the kid was being an asshole about it—holding it over his head or something—but the fact he’s not makes it ten times worse.

“Listen, I’m going to pay you back for all of this,” he begins. “Once I figure everything out, I’ll make sure we’re square.”

“I already said you don’t have to,” Tim dismisses.

“I’m still going to. I don’t like owing people. So, name your price.”

Tim sighs, and fixes him with an exasperated stare, like Jason is being needlessly stubborn or something. “I can’t think of anything. But how about we start with you getting some sleep? At some point, you need to be capable of making decisions for the baby yourself, and it’s not going to happen while you’re brain is stewing in shock and the attempted alcohol poisoning you subjected it to earlier.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are. But your sleep schedule’s about to take a major hit. Tonight might be the last time you actually get a few solid hours in a row for a while.”

“If you think I’m sleeping tonight after all this…” Jason trails off, shaking his head.

“Fair,” Tim allows and turns to leave. “I’m going to head out now. I won’t be doing a full patrol, so if you’re still awake when I get back, I’ll help you bring the bassinet up and set it up. Unless you want to do it yourself. But Tam says those things require an engineering degree, and you’re not exactly the most patient person ever.”

“I’m not going to set fire to anything in your place. Probably.”

“Is it weird that that’s actually somewhat reassuring?”

“It’s the honesty. I’m fully aware of my faults. Unlike some people.”

“Speaking of…are you absolutely sure you don’t want to tell anyone else? I know for a fact Alfred’s way more qualified—”

“No.”

Bruce’s disappointment he can live with; Alfred’s, not so much.

“Right. Then I’ll see you later.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Jason alone once again.

He stares around the room, imagining a cradle set up beside the bed, and the mountain of baby supplies. Even having seen and held the baby—even knowing her name—he’s still having a hard time picturing bringing her home.

However temporary that is.

It’s yet another reason he’s not cut out to have a kid—you have to have a home and roots and stability. And the closest thing he’s ever had to a father figure was far from stable, judging by the propensity to dress up as a giant bat and fight crime.

Jason digs out his phone, tempted to call his friend again and to try to convince him he needs him to be here.

Except, if Roy’s in the thick of a job, Jason doesn’t want to risk calling at an inopportune moment just to bother him with his shit. And he knows how touchy a subject it is, especially considering what happened to Lian.

Better not.

Roy will contact him when he can, or he’ll likely just show up. Until then, Jason just as to…figure all this out on his own.

Which he can do.

He’s a goddamn adult, isn’t he?

Shit, I’ve got to be now.

There’s a knock at the doorway, which even if he didn’t know it was her, would tell him it’s Tam Fox.

(Bats don’t knock; that would mean understanding the meaning of privacy.)

Tam lingers against the doorjamb, shifting uneasily, and isn’t this a blast from the past?

Jason has done a pretty good job of avoiding running into anyone who knew him before he died, especially when it comes to civilians. The only person who knows for sure outside of the Family is a prostitute named Rhonda that’s walked the streets of Park Row since before Jason ran away from his first foster home. And while she knows he’s Jason Todd, she doesn’t know he’s the Red Hood or that he was Robin.

Which, I guess, Tam probably doesn’t either. Tim just said I was a ‘friend’, not what kind of friend.

Still, it’s a whole different thing, having someone from high society, who remembers the kid he was, even if it was the distant relationship of acquaintances. He has to remind himself that Tim trusts her, and Bruce has always trusted her father, and if those two paranoid freaks consider them good people, it would be stupid of Jason not to do the same.

“Tim asked me to stick around for a bit and keep an eye on you,” she says after a few seconds of awkward lingering. “I think it’s kind of pointless—I mean, look at the size of you.”

Jason shrugs. “He probably thinks I’m going to take off.”

“Are you?”

“Considering it,” he admits. “But what’s the point? It’s not like it would change anything.”

There would still be a kid out there—my kid.

Tam’s eyes soften. “You must be scared out of your mind.”

“I don’t get scared,” he replies automatically.

“That’s a bald-faced lie. Even people who plan to have kids are terrified when it happens.” She folds her arms. “Now, I don’t know your story or where you’ve been all these years, or how you’re involved with Tim and his…night job. And I probably don’t want to know. But you’re barely older than me, and if I was in your place, I’d freaking out.”

Jason clenches his fists.

“Also, Tim probably didn’t bother asking, but are you going to be okay?”

“I have no fucking clue,” he admits at last. “This was never the plan. It was never part of any plan.”

“I bet. The, uh, nightlife isn’t exactly one you want to bring kids into. Especially if you’re like Tim.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means…look, Tim’s a good guy,” Tam says. “But when it comes to stuff like this, he’s sort of…” She tilts her head to one side as though thinking of the right words, and then says, “He’s sort of like Pinocchio.”

Jason huffs in amusement. “Because he’s so small and wooden?”

“Because he spends most of his time pretending to be a real boy and has a very casual relationship with the truth,” she corrects. “That’s not the sort of environment you want to raise a child in. Parents shouldn’t have to lie to their kids, even if it’s to protect them. And kids shouldn’t have to lie to their parents.” She pauses, clearly chewing on something, and then asks hesitantly, “Does your…um…does Mr. Wayne know you’re…?”

“He knows,” Jason replies shortly.

“Right. Of course. Though…I mean, I would have assumed if he did there’d have been a big press conference or media thing.”

“I didn’t exactly come back here on good terms with him.”

“That wouldn’t matter. He was devastated when you died. He stopped going to work or doing anything. Dad had to take care of everything.”

“Oh, yeah, he was really broken up,” Jason pretends to agree, feeling his mouth twist unpleasantly. “Didn’t take him long to move in the new kid, though.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Tam protests. “Tim told me. He said that B—”

She cuts herself off, clearly unsure of how much he knows. Jason can’t help be impressed by how in the know she seems to be; knowing about Tim’s extracurricular activities is one thing, but knowing Gotham City’s biggest secret as well? He begins to reevaluate just how far up her metaphorical security clearance is.

“He said Bruce was self-destructing,” Tam concludes, clearly deciding to remain vague. “It was going to get himself or someone else killed if Tim didn’t step in.”

And Jason knows that now, of course, and doesn’t even blame Tim for it anymore; but it doesn’t make things hurt less.

“Who’s to say that wouldn’t have been the better option?” Jason challenges. “Maybe if Tim stayed out of it and B crossed that line, Gotham would be safer now.”

The slight widening of Tam’s eyes is the only indication she’s noticed his acknowledgment of just how much he knows. But Jason is now too distracted by his thoughts to remark on it.

“See, dear old Dad and I have philosophical differences about some pretty common sense stuff. Namely, taking out the scumbags who deserve it. The unforgivable types, like rapists and child molesters and the Joker.”

“You went up against the Joker?” Tam gapes. “Are you crazy?”

“Seemed fair, since he was the one who killed me,” Jason shrugs. Tam’s mouth actually drops at this; clearly, she hasn’t heard those details, either. “Not that I’ll ever get the chance since B’s always there to get in my way. The number of times that crazed clown almost killed me—almost killed all of us—”

He cuts off with a choked growl because it’s an argument he can perform by rote now, in several languages.

His fists clench tighter in anger, seething at the old resentment. It’s not as fresh as it was when he first came out of the Pit, or even when he was carrying out his plans to force Bruce’s hand. But there will always be a stinging ache just beneath his breastbone whenever he thinks about the situation.

He remembers that other Earth, where after losing him, Bruce effectively ripped apart Gotham’s rogues and made the place safer; where the cost of peace for the city was his own soul.

It’s a sacrifice Jason’s always been willing to make.

He wonders if that’s all going to change now, with the…

Jason pauses, and realizes for the first time tonight since receiving that voicemail from Dr. Kerry, he hasn’t been thinking of the baby.

Granted, it was because his mind went back to fixating on the psychopath that killed him, but he’s finally feeling something beyond numb disbelief.

This feeling he knows; these thoughts are familiar ground.

He squints at Tam, considering.

“You’re good at that,” he says at last.

“At what?”

“Being a distraction. I see why he keeps you around.”

“He doesn’t keep me around, I keep him alive,” she retorts. “I’m way more than a distraction, thanks very much.”

“Obviously. You know the big secret and you’re still here. There are only a few people who can cope with it.”

And not everyone does it well.

“It’s been a steep learning curve. A lot of which was playing catch-up and learning to decode Tim’s everything. And I almost walked a few times,” she admits. “Last year was the closest I came to it. Tim faked my father’s death for another one of his convoluted plans. He didn’t tell me anything, and then just expected me to be okay with it.” Her mouth turns downward; obviously it’s still a sore spot. “After a few weeks of thinking about it, and talking things through with my dad, I understood why he did it. But I also decided I’m not cut out to be kept in the dark. If I’m going to be in on this stuff, I’m going to be in on it.”

“That’s a different take from your dad,” Jason says. “He always liked being ignorant until the last possible moment.”

“Pretending to be ignorant,” Tam corrects him. “For plausible deniability. But if there’s anything I’ve learned working for WE and for Tim, it’s that ignorance can get you in just as much trouble as knowledge can. And if I’m going to get killed by ninjas, I’d rather I knew what it was for.”

Jason can’t help a chuckle at that. “That’s weirdly specific.”

“Well, if you’re too wired to sleep, I’ll tell you all about it.”

Jason pauses for a moment, not entirely comfortable with the offer—it’s somehow too easy, too normal; in his experience, sitting down with old acquaintances leads to bloodshed.

But the lure of keeping his mind off his own troubles is too much.

“I’m all ears,” he tells her.

⁂⁂⁂

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[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Armour of God (Chan, 1986)

I knew going into Armour of God that Jackie Chan nearly died during production after a routine stunt went seriously wrong. In that sense, it makes sense that this movie doesn't go quite as hard as some of his other movies from the era, as it would be entirely justified for Jackie to make the action scenes a bit less bruising so he could properly recover from his injuries. (The first scene was mostly shot prior to the accident, but the majority of the movie was shot several months later. You will notice a different haircut in that opening scene, but the rest of the movie has him with his usual mop.) But I think the bigger problem is that he doesn't seem to have much of a feel for the globetrotting adventure genre. I get the sense that this might have been designed to play better internationally, and the result is that it tones down the clothesline-plot quality of his better movies (that allowed him to maximize the killer-to-filler ratio) for fear of alienating viewers with the usual tonal dissonance. Instead, it commits to a plot that by itself isn't terribly interesting, and fails to liven it up in between the set pieces. Unlike his directorial efforts from the era, this is shot in the 1.85:1 aspect ratio (chosen by original director Eric Tsang, who started shooting the opening scene but didn't return after the hiatus in production) instead of 2.35:1, and as a result looks grittier and less lavish than I'd like from this genre.

I think the other big problem is that Jackie is paired with weaker than usual co-stars. You can watch his Police Story movies or the ones he did with Sammo Hung and Yuen Biao and see how him and his co-stars have complementary presences that play off each other nicely. Here, he's paired with Alan Tam, who I presume was cast because of his talents as a singer (in an undercooked backstory about both characters being in a band that's never paid off), but Tam is neither charismatic nor agile enough to give Jackie much to play off of. (I suspect Tam's involvement was also the result of a conscious MTV influence, visible in a massacre montage and the makeup of Jackie's foes in the climax. The massacre is bloodier than usual for Jackie, likely because it was shot by Tsang.) The only co-star Jackie has any chemistry with here is Miss Spain 1979 Lola Forner, reuniting with him after Wheels on Meals, who plays every scene with her hair seemingly caught in a slight breeze. That being said, there is some classic shtick here, like the scene where Jackie distracts Forner while Tam tries to sneak out of her room, or the scene where Forner waits in the car while the two friends take a leak at the side of the road while a Cantopop ballad sung by Tam blares on the soundtrack.

All that being said, Jackie Chan is still a master physical performer and action director, so a movie where he's operating at less than 100% is still pretty enjoyable and has enough of his usual slapstick-tinged fight scenes to sate viewers. The opening feels the most aggressive in terms of stuntwork (probably because it began shooting before his accident), but the climactic fights have him surrounded by his foes who strikes him from all corners of the frame, business as usual. There's even a certain balletic grace in how his foes stumble out of the way to dodge the fiery wooden log he swings across the room. But the best action scene comes around a third of the way in, with a car chase that tries to approximate the claustrophobia of Hong Kong in a European location (the movie was shot mostly in the former Yugoslavia), with endless extras jumping out of the way as Jackie tries to evade a motorcycle gang in his silver Mitsubishi. (I suspect Golden Harvest had a product placement deal with the manufacturer. I also noticed a scene where Jackie conspicuously uses a can of Kirin beer to distract a group of hostile tribesmen.) This is a great scene, although if I must be perfectly honest, I didn't find it quite as fun as a similar chase in Heart of Dragon which I watched a few weeks ago, likely because the ugly car here (which for some reason has a "Twin Turbo" feature to make it go extra fast) doesn't have the same visual impact as the loud yellow one in the other movie.

[stars-that-do-not-give-a-damn]

KOTLC squad as marvel characters

Sophie: carol danvers. blonde, tired, always standing up for what she thinks is right, woke up one day with superpowers, memory problems, more powerful than anyone else on the planet, "I have nothing to prove to you"

Linh: wanda maximoff. bc she's a precious bean with a lot of power that she has to learn to control, misjudged and treated badly by people who dont understand her, also she's literally a twin, like what else could you possible want??

Biana: pepper potts, kicks ass while looking flawless, literally the only competent person on the team (don't @ me you know its true)

Marella: tony stark. snarky little shit, doesn't care what other people think of her, has power thrust upon her she didn't want but uses it for the greater good, also idk I feel like they would really vibe?

Keefe: loki. little shit, likes to play pranks on people, crap dad, has a complicated family lineage/background and a legacy he doesn't want to uphold, has switched sides in the past but is ultimately trying to help his friends

Tam: bucky barnes. emo, dead inside, likes to style with silver accessories, bangs and eyeliner, has to make sure that his best friends don't get themselves killed doing something stupid, misjudged for his background and circumstances he didn't have control over, but always remains strong

Fitz: thor. born into privilege and power, has a long family legacy he's meant to live up to, actually just a nerd who loves his friends and wants them to be safe. also very stylish and attractive lol.

Dex: bruce banner, super cool science/tech guy!!!! too pure for this world, has some trauma he's had to work through but still continues to help people. completely underrated and overlooked, but 100% the best person ever

sandor: happy hogan. team mum, has to drive places, tired of everyone's shit, not paid enough to deal with this.

fork man: nick fury, literally how did he get all of these children??? he regrets all of his life choices. also idk, a leader dude, runs a secret organisation.

if anyone wants to add on feel free ♥️

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [8/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. Jason and Isabel Ardila

Author’s Note: Exactly what it says on the can. I’ve had this idea kicking around my head for a while, getting in the way of finishing the next chapter of Philtatos and I figured if I started jotting down the basics of it, I could stop thinking about it.

________________________________________________________________

Tim drives to one of Jason’s safehouses in the Bowery, about halfway between his apartment and the bar where he found Jason earlier. The place is a rundown, fire-damaged building with boarded-up windows and a sign out front advertising cheap studios.

“Do you need any help?” he asks as Jason gets out of the car.

“Just how much stuff do you think I need?” is the irate response before Jason vanishes into the dilapidated lobby.

Tim scowls at his back.

Someone remind me why I’m helping this jerk again?

The memory of the very tiny human still in the nursery at Gotham General makes his facial muscles relax.

Right.

Given the circumstances, Tim supposes he can overlook Jason’s inconsistent moods. He needs someone to lash out at right now while processing, and it’s not like Tim isn’t used to it. Better him than the criminals of Gotham; Jason’s pretty good these days about not using lethal force, but he might not care so much if he goes out without his head on straight.

Speaking of going out…

Tim surprised when Jason actually returns to the car ten minutes later instead of just vanishing. As he indicated earlier, he doesn’t have very much with him, just a worn duffel bag that he tosses in the backseat of Tim’s Porsche before having himself back into the passenger seat.

“Hope there aren’t any severed heads in there,” Tim remarks lightly as pulls away from the building. “I just had the seats redone.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “A guy makes one grand statement and they never let him forget it.”

“You don’t want people to forget it.”

“True,” he agrees with a sharp grin that is anything but humorous.

It’s a short journey back to Tim’s place, but he still drives around the block to use the secret entrance to his base of operations.

“What, I’m not good enough for your front door?”

“Be my guest. Say hi to Vicki Vale when you do, she’s usually lurking nearby.” When Jason shoots him a sharp, questioning look he elaborates, “An occupational hazard of being the face of WE is having paparazzi camped out around my place every now and then. I figure you don’t want your face showing up on the front of the Gotham Gazette.”

“Yeah, that might have been worth mentioning when you offered your guestroom.”

“Guess it’s a good thing like all responsible Bats, I have an underground secret hideout.”

He pulls into the back alley and flips the switch that activates the hidden ramp; the ground falls away and leads down toward the carpark. Tim won’t lie, he enjoys the way Jason’s eyebrows go higher the further in they get. The rest of the Family doesn’t come here—even during citywide emergencies, the agreed-upon convergence point tends to be the original Batcave—so Tim doesn’t have a lot of opportunities to show off.

And maybe showing off to his former childhood idol is something that doesn’t go away, no matter how many years or murder attempts.

That subbasement is nowhere near as large as any of the Caves, but there are two other cars and a half-dozen motorcycles in various states of modification parked in a circle. Tim eases into the only empty space and cuts the engine.

“Welcome to the Nest,” he says as he gets out of the car. “It goes three floors up not including this level. Outside it looks like just another apartment building behind my place, so no one would expect an actual secure installation inside.” He gestures as he speaks. “Ground floor’s got my crime lab and containment units, the second floor’s all training stuff, and the third’s the communication’s hub. There’s even aerial access, but I haven’t had to use it yet.”

Jason shakes his head. “Must be nice to be Dad’s favorite.”

“I wouldn’t know, you’d have to ask Dick.”

“Is that a popcorn machine?”

“No self-respecting hero’s lair should be without one,” Tim quips. “Come on, the living area’s this way.

They head up the stairs to the main level, and Tim doesn’t miss the appreciative glances Jason casts his tech and gear. He opens his mouth to offer to hook Jason up—extend the olive branch, so to speak—but stops himself; he doesn’t know if, after this whole baby adventure is over, Jason’s even going to want to stay in Gotham.

He slides open the hidden door, revealing Tim’s apartment. It’s the same deliberately clean open-concept room as he left it, except for one change. Across from the aquarium that hides the entrance switch, Tam Fox is reclining on the divan in the living room, one hand holding a glass of wine and another flipping expertly across her tablet.

She startles at the sound of the secret door sliding open, and that movement makes Jason tense, fingers ready to grasp for a weapon if need be.

“Relax,” Tim tells him, unsurprised when Jason does the opposite. “She knows everything.”

“And that’s reassuring how?”

“I trust Tam with my life, and to put my interests above WE’s or Bruce’s,” he explains. “Since at the moment you and I are working together, that means she puts your interests above WE and Bruce’s too.”

“She can hear you and knows how to speak for herself,” Tam quips, putting down her glass and standing up. “Who’s this?”

“This is Jason, the friend I was telling you about.”

Tim can almost hear Jason scowling at that; he trusts new people about as much as Bruce does.

Funnily enough, they both make the exact same face.

“And since when is there wine in my apartment?”

“Since you sent me scrambling around Gotham running errands, you generously decided to buy me a bottle of this very nice Riesling,” she replies, studying Jason. “When you said you had a friend with an emergency that required diapers, I was expecting Batgirl. Or Wonder Girl. Or Pru. Or, heck, even that Lynx-woman.”  

“Lynx?” Jason repeats, shooting Tim a disbelieving look. “Ghost Dragons Lynx? There’s no way you have that much game.”

“Then he didn’t tell you about what almost happened in Paris,” Tam informs him.

“Anyway,” Tim interjects. That’s all he needs is for Jason to hear about his own near brush with fatherhood. “This is Tam. Officially she’s my personal assistant, but I think ‘friend and confidante’ covers the relationship a lot better. And Tam, this is—"

“Jason Todd,” she says immediately, her eyes fixed on the other man in disbelief. Tim is momentarily caught off-guard. “It took me a minute, but I recognize you anywhere.”

Okay. I didn’t expect that. Though I probably should have. The Foxes were invited to all the same benefits and events Mom and Dad were. She probably knew or knew of Jason.

“Tam,” Jason repeats, tilting his head to one side and frowning at her for a moment like he’s trying to place her. His expression clears. “Tam. Tamara. Fox, right? You knocked Ned Davenport into a potted plant during Bruce’s birthday party one year.”

For once this evening, Tim is the one to feel a little bit off balance. Jason never talks about his time at Wayne manor in anything but unpleasant terms. And yet, Tim knows from Alfred’s stories that there were happy times and that once, Jason was as much a part of life at the manor as Tim or Damian.

 “He deserved it for ‘accidentally’ grazing my boobs when he passed by. Three times. And—and that’s not the point! You died!”

“I got better,” he replies with a bitter twist of his mouth.

She gapes for a moment, then reaches for her glass and downs the remainder of it.

“I’m going to become an alcoholic before I’m 25,” she tells the empty glass in a resigned tone before turning back to Jason. “Okay. I don’t even question this stuff anymore,” she informs him. “He could show up tomorrow with the Devil himself and I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Kid Devil, maybe. Lucifer doesn’t like Gotham. He's more of a beach-party kind of guy."

Tam stares, clearly unsure if Jason is being serious or not; Tim actually isn’t sure either and decides to change the subject.

“You want something to drink?” he asks as he heads for the kitchen. He doubts Jason will notice or care, but his mother raised him to be polite even to people that don’t like him. “I doubt you want anything alcoholic after everything today, but I think I’ve got Zesti—”

“Water,” Jason says absently, looking around the apartment. Now that Tam has been proven as a non-threat, he’s clearly more interested in assessing his surroundings.

He notices the large pile of boxes and bags by the stairs at the same time Tim does.

“What the hell’s this?”

“I called Tam and said it was an emergency and that we needed a few things.”

“This is not a few things.”

“Well, you don’t know how long you’re going to need them,” Tam replies. “Congratulations, by the way.” Tim can’t see Jason’s expression, but doubts it’s a good one from the way Tam quickly adds, "Or no congratulations? Where are we on the whole 'congratulations' thing?”

I don’t think either of us has the energy to get into what happened with Isabel just now. Redirection time.

“Did you have any trouble picking up the stuff?” Tim asks as he gets two glasses from the kitchen cupboard.

“Trouble?” she snorts, and her voice instantly goes from bemused to annoyed. “Do you know how hard it was to get all of this delivered without someone seeing me? Or seeing that it was baby stuff? That’s all I need now is Vicki Vale adding cradle-robbing and teen parenthood to her stories about us.”

“What’s Vicki doing this time?” Jason asks.

“She’s been trying to prove Tim’s Red Robin for the better part of a year,” Tam says. “She tried to get me to confirm that last year when all those ninjas tried to kill us, but I panicked and said we were engaged just to distract her.”

“Talk about taking one for the team,” Jason mutters.

Tim glares at him, and if he shoves the glass of water into his hands a little more forceful than he needs to, oh well. “She trots out that dead horse whenever Tam and I happen to be in the same room together.”

“Which is doing wonders for my career,” Tam deadpans. “People already scream nepotism because of who my father is, but now I’ve been reduced to either Tim Drake-Wayne’s assistant or Tim Drake-Wayne’s fiancée.”

“Hope he’s paying you overtime,” Jason says and wanders over to the intimidating tower of cardboard and plastic. He makes a face. “How much of this shit did you order? There’s like a lifetime supply of diapers here.”

“Trust me, that’ll last a month if you’re lucky,” Tam informs him. “My nieces and nephews did nothing but eat and poop for the first year of their lives.”

Jason appears vaguely horrified. His gaze rests on something else. “Is that a car seat?”

“How else were you expecting to bring home a baby? Carry her on a subway?”

Neither man has a response to this.

“Oh, this is going to go well,” she sighs. “Neither of you has any idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“That would be putting it lightly,” Tim acknowledges, and side-eyes Jason. “We should probably sit down and talk options, but that can wait until tomorrow if you want.”

“Tomorrow,” Jason agrees, and he sounds so exhausted and lost, that Jason takes pity on him.

“Come on, then. I’ll show you to the guestroom,” he offers and starts up the stairs. “It’s right next to the bathroom, if you want to shower. The water pressure here’s not great—” He shrugs, as if to say, ‘Park Row, what can you do?’ “—but it’s unlimited hot water.”

Surprisingly, Jason follows without comment.

“I’ll be here,” Tam says, and there’s an undertone to her words that suggest she’s not going anywhere until Tim explains the whole story.

And isn’t that going to be fun…

________________________________________________________________

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels

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