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themaribatpit · 3 years ago

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Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing. I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy. She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy. Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place. The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity. For Lila, this simply would not stand.

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes. The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone. “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped. She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face. “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut. Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying. “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears. Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand. “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears. It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup. It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations. She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden. On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned. Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night. It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear. She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover. Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought. Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision. Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers. Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all. The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare. She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.” Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons. Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy. Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open. This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending. Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear. It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one. Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city. This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention. She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power. Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims. She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand. Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky. She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down. “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness. She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor. It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it. She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer. Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist. A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her. In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on. If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands. Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask. She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room. She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face. From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.

#maribat lila salt #jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #maribat class salt

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fluffybunnyartist · 5 years ago

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Hey!! Again I can't get enough!! I really appreciate you putting Actually time and effort into our asks! My ask! Can we get a Michael Myers (other SLASHERS) as a meaner more scary yandere?? Like just a more realistic darker version of them with a cute innocent S/O NSFW IF YOU WANT!! AGAIN NO RUSG

Hell ya!! NSFW: Blood, gore, implied sex and noncon.

MICHAEL MYERS

Whatever you did to catch this man's attention you're either one lucky bastard or one unfortunate SOB. Hes extremely possessive and in the first day of him showing you your his you'll be covered in hickies.

You can kick and scream all you want. He has you in his clutches and he needs you. You better learn how to behave. He doesnt like hurting you but will if you dont act nicely.

Friends? Murdered. Family? Pushed away. Any boyfriend/girlfriend? Killed 3 days ago. No one is allowed near you unless you're working or buying groceries. He does know when to let it go.

God forbid anyone flirt or bully you. They're tortured and killed. Only he can do that. Speaking of which his idea of flirting is stealing or murdering people for what he needs for you. That rich family down the street? Murdered and you got some nice shiny jewelry covered in blood.

Now he will wait for consent to fuck you. Hes not a complete monster and you're the only one he loves. But he will grope you, rub up against you and mark you however he pleases. When he kisses you he doesnt expect you to kiss back. Just sit back and take it. Hes still a dom but hes a bit cold. You talked to a cashier for too long and hes left you naked tied to the bed with a vibrator in for an hour.

All in all you're his little doll and hes never loved anyone like you. Just let me play with you Y/N, you'll enjoy it I promise.

JASON VOORHEES

He'd tear anyone to shreds to get to you. You remind him a bit of his mother, so sweet and kind and he wants you. He needs you. So everyone else is slaughter with blood and guts sprayed across the cabin and campgrounds as he carries you to his place.

He ties you up to a bed and a chair during the day so you can sleep at night. Hes very kind, despite slaughtering your friends. He'll treat you like a delicate bird or baby deer. Petting you softly and feeding you from his own plate.

Stay in Pamela's good graces. Mainly be nice to her boy! Dont do drugs and no escaping! If you try he wants hurt you. He'll put you into a timeout. Do it too many times and he'll bend you over his knee and spank you li km e a naughty child. So you're not in much danger.

He's very sweet to you once you get to know him but like Michael he refuses to let anyone come over or near you. He'll chase everyone away. You dont need them, Y/N! All you need is me. He loves to cuddle you. Sweet little pets and even kisses.

Hes more likely to take off the mask if you've earned his trust or promise kisses. Then he'll stay unmasked around you. But only you! He doesnt really make you work but he does appreciate if you clean house a bit.

He always makes sure to have consent before touching you any where other than your hair. He doesnt wanna upset you.

THOMAS HEWITT

Something about you caught his eye. And now here you are at dinner. With your dead friends seated on one side and the large man wearing you best friends face on the other.

Be kind. Dont insult them or itll lead to you being punished. Thomas already made clear that he wants you and he wants you alive so they wouldn't risk killing you but being forced to do hard labor and chopping your friends up for dinner isnt killing you.

He'll spoon feed you the stew made of people. And at dinner you're tied down until further notice. After that you'll be tied to Thomas's bed. He'll feel up on you and touch you no matter how much you squirm. He just cant believe a beautiful creature such as yourself is in his bed. Laying with him!

He likes to cuddle you a lot and he'll grind on you and hump you a ton. Hes never had a sexual outlet before so it's a common occurrence when he just masturbates over your naked body. He loves seeing the look on your face as he cums all over you.

He may actually fuck you without your consent. You're his right? His to take? And he loves you so much. He promises to make you feel good. Just let him in.

BUBBA SAWYER

The fact that you survived one dinner is enough for Bubba to make you his. He'll give you plenty of kisses straight off the bat. He makes sure you're fed and bathed. Usually you're tied up for these.

He doesnt talk so it hard to understand him but he likes to cuddle with you. Sometimes if you cut yourself or get cut he'll lap up the blood and sometimes he likes to bite you.

He can and will kill and eat your friends. If you try to run away or escape you leg or legs may be butchered or mutilated courtesy of Drayton telling Bubba that he needs to so you dont run away again.

Now he'll probably fuck you while you sleep or are so tired you dont know what's going on. He's not so great on consent but that's bc if his upbringing and not out of malice or need to prove your his.

Probably one of the more innocent ones and the only reason he harms you or does freaky shit is bc of his brothers. He likes to make you jewelry out of body parts or steal some from victims.

He'll have Drayton marry you too so you both can have kids together! And he wants lots of kids! He's so happy he found you!

BO SINCLAIR

You're tied up in the chair until you can behave yourself. You get bathroom breaks but only he can take you and hes right inside with you. He'll face the other way he just doesn't want you escaping.

He'll gag you if you keep making noise. He wont glue your lips together bc what if he scars them? You're his perfect little doll. He doesnt want you too injured. So stop struggling in those bindings Y/N. It wont help.

Within the first few days he'll be on top of you grinding and groping. Touching you wherever he can. He loves your body and he wants to make you feel good. Dont you wanna make him feel good too?

Hes aggressive though. He may love you but he wont hesitate to scream or yell at you if hes thinking you're acting like a bitch. Hell come back later being softer and kissing you.

He'll get you to marry him. How can you say no to him? He'll take care of you and your kids! Hes so excited to get his little nuclear family started! After the chair you'll be chained up in his room. Maybe he'll take you for a drive if your good. But hes another one to lock you down fully or cause it so you cant escape.

No he wont cut off your limbs! But maybe if you cant see the exit you wont be able to leave him. Remember even though he loves you he still gets off on your pain a bit.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

More or less Bo thought you'd be good for him and he locked you in the studio where Vincent spends all his time. At first he doesnt know what to do. He leaves you food and water and let's you use the restroom but ues not sure.... but you are really pretty.

Awkward cuddling. Usually when you're asleep he'll nuzzle up to you gently. He doesnt wanna wake you but he wants to be close to you. He'll start drawing you and soon he'll be enamoured with you.

During the day hes polite and kind and offers you things to keep yourself occupied. But at night he let's his fingers and lips wander wherever he wants. Usually you tire yourself out by crying or trying you escape. So you're really conked out by the time he starts to touch you.

He wont mutilate you if you try to escape no. He'll cripple you. He can just carry you where you need to go. He can help you with whatever you want! He can bring you food and water! You can have everything you've ever wanted! But you have to stay here with him.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bubba saywer x reader #bubba sawyer #michael myers x reader #michael myers #jason vorhees x reader #jason voorhees #jason vorhees imagine #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher

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redrobin-detective · 5 years ago

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Everyone has a type

I’m trying to be better at quick stories so uh here.

_______________________________

One minute Billy was standing outside of Beck’s Diner, feeling cold and hungry and wondering if a quick meal was worth the last few dollars he had when a feeling came over him. It was both familiar and completely alien and from one breath to the next, he was somewhere entirely different. He blinked, Superman blinked back in confusion. There was Batman and Robin off to the side, Flash dropped a snack bar he’d been munching on in surprise, there were two Lanterns in sight and both of them were swearing. But mostly Billy focused on all the stars glittering from the windows and the lovely view of the Earth from the teleporter pad.

He was.... on the Watchtower. Wait a moment, he was on the Watchtower as Billy Batson. He went from slightly confused to panicking in moments.

“Who the hell is that? It’s some kid!”

“How did he get here?”

“You were supposed to grab Marvel! Who’s this!”

“Shit send him back!”

“We can’t send him back! We don’t know what happened! He could be a spy and report straight to the villains!”

“Son,” Clark (no it’s Superman, don’t say Clark then you’re really screwed, Batson) said gently but with a steely, cautious edge to his voice. He floated closer and Billy took a few stumbling steps back. Should he run? He wouldn’t get far with the fastest in the League, save Marvel of course, right here. What would he even do? He knew these hallways like he knew the back of his hand but he’s in the wrong body and he had no idea what to do and he was kind of freaking out a little bit. Okay maybe a lot. His anxiety must have been obvious, if not for the reasons they thought, because Clark’s expression softened just a bit. “It’s okay, we had a little mix-up but we’ll get this worked out.”

“Where am I?” he asked because that was the logical question anyone would ask.

“That’s classified,” one Lantern, John Stewart, said with a distrustful frown.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Clark tried again, floating a little closer. “What’s your name? Where are you from?” Oh no way in hell did Bill want his name in their files.

“Fawcett City,” he murmured instead, still tamping down the instinct to run. He glanced over at the Bats who had yet to intervene. The newest Robin, a kid his age named Jason was looking at Billy like he was some kind of puzzle he couldn’t figure out. Bruce, as usual, was hard to read behind the mask.

“Well we got the right city at least,” Flash chuckled awkwardly. “You didn’t happen to see a flying man in a red suit, did you? Can shoot lightning, big smile, bigger heart?”

Oh they were trying to get Marvel, made sense, it was just very, very bad news for his secret identity and overall mental health. He heard some of the others whispering to each other, going over the transporter and wondering what could have gone wrong. Pretty soon, they were going to draw together some very uncomfortable facts and his identity was going to be exposed. No one would ever take him seriously again, he’d be out of the League, lose all his friends and-

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw black and realized the Dark Knight had snuck up on him without noticing. Normally he’s taller than Bruce but now the man towers over him and he has to wonder how there’s any crime left in Gotham if this guy protects it. Even worse, he was smiling.

“I believe we just had a simple misunderstanding,” Bruce (no, definitely Batman when he’s like this) said simply. “I’ll take Captain Marvel’s communicator back and we’ll send you back where you came from.” Billy’s mind went blank.

“We honed in on Cap’s comm,” Clark said with a frown before looking back at Billy, “but how does he have it?”

“A distracted hero, an enterprising and quick fingered boy and an opportunity too good to pass up,” Batman subtly looked over at his sidekick. “I’m familiar with the story.” Realization slammed into Billy, Bruce had recounted his first meeting with Jason at least a couple of times. He always had this soft smile on his face as he described coming back to find the Batmobile missing it’s tires and the bold street kid who’d lifted them. That was the same sort of smile he was wearing now.

“Are you saying this punk took Cap’s comm?” Hal said with a little laugh. “Man, you got balls kid targeting someone with the literal Gods on his side.”

“Uh,” was all Billy could say because what else could he do? They thought he was a thief! And that Cap was a bungling idiot who let a kid steal his equipment! He supposed that was better than them realizing their teammate was twelve and homeless. He wordlessly opened his jacket and deposited the comm into Batman’s waiting hand.

“He didn’t see you take it, did he?” Batman said casually, “he would have reported it missing if he had.”

“Uh,” Billy said again because this whole situation felt like an uncomfortable fever dream. Batman tucked the device into his case and loomed a little bit more.

“Do no take things from heroes again or you may find yourself with more than you can handle,” he growled before nodding at John to fire up the teleporter. “But keep up those skills and you might find yourself with a job one day.” As before, one moment Billy was staring down Batman and the next we was back in front of Beck’s Diner. An old lady with a dog startled when he appeared put of nowhere and hurriedly walked past. Bill looked down at his hands in confusion.

“What just happened?”

XxX

“Hey Cap,” Hal said in a sing song voice. “Lose something?” He continued holding up Marvel’s missing communicator. The parts of Billy inside the god rolled his eyes but on the outside, Marvel feigned surprise and took the device.

“I’ve been looking for this, wasn’t looking forward to asking Batman for a new one. Where did you find it?” Marvel asked, clipping it back on his belt.

“We were beaming you up for a mission debriefing and instead snagged a ratty Fawcett kid. Seems he nicked your comm while you weren’t looking, probably was gonna sell it or keep it as a souvenir until we accidentally kidnapped him.” Hal said with a wide grin. Wisdom of Solomon said the man was just teasing him and delighted to find a mistake in the otherwise godly reputation. Billy thinks he’s just kind of an ass in general. Or maybe he’s just a bit offended about Billy being called ratty.

“Well I’ll be sure to secure it better this time,” Marvel said, already wondering just how to prevent this from happening again.

“Yeah, be careful, Batman looked like he was ready to take the kid home with him,” Hal joked.

“Excuse me?” Marvel questioned.

“Bats was pretty impressed the kid was able to swipe the thing from you. If his other street kid sidekick hadn’t been standing right there, Bats probably woulda offered him a job right then and there,” Hal said with a laugh and a wave as he wandered off. Marvel just stood there wondering how close he got to having Wayne added to his name. This secret identity stuff really was getting to be a hassle.

#billy batson #dc #*cries* this was supposed to be short #stupid thought of 'hey if Billy has Caps devce they might think he stole it'#to which i realized 'hey isnt that how Bruce got Jay??'#and now B is making adoption eyes at another cheeky street kid #Jason is cranky the whole rest of the day #he just GOT here and now hes going to get replaced #later on the reveal comes out and B is sweating bc cheeky street kid AND hes a sweetheart A N D hes a superhero???#Bruce has a type and its cute but ballsy kids he can dote on

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bowieandqueen11 · 5 years ago

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Break Things / Billy Hargrove Imagine

Request: Hii! Could I please request Billy (Stranger Things) being a huge dick to you for months since he’s come to Hawkings but then one night at a party, both drunk he admits he likes you? Please and thank you❤️

Of course love, thank you for requesting! I’ve really missed Billy

Comments are much appreciated!

You never expected to end up at Dean Brauner’s house on this Friday night, but that was Hawkins for you.

You were too busy spinning around in circles on the dancefloor with Nancy, Steve glancingly warily, as if almost afraid of the unity the two of you held from where he stood at the punch ball. The strange, gloopy, scarlet liquid bounced out of over Nancy’s solo cup, splashing down on her fingers and staining the front of her cream blouse as she swished her hips. She stumbled against you as the night began to reach its climax, giggling as her forehead hit against her shoulder and the two of you stamped on the foot of poor Jason Miller. Laughing, she wraps her arm around you, slow dancing with wilting hands before nodding off against the dip of your chest.

‘Nanc. Nanc!’

You shake her gently, eyes fluttering open before closing once again.

‘No, Nanc! The night’s not over yet!’

She hiccups slightly as she pushes up and off you.

‘I’m gonna go to the b-bathroom. Maybe...maybe sleep.’

The bass thumped in time with your heart beat as Nancy walked off, faltering with every step towards the stairs. You go to catch up with her, but stop when you see Jonathan Byers grab onto her elbow and help her start slowly away from the roarous noise of a bunch of drunk teenagers.

Over the roar of music, you could hear a distant, hazy chatter. You couldn’t make out any words, but harshness rang in your ears and wouldn’t seem to stop. The song that was playing got louder, pulling you in and wouldn’t let go. You rolled your eyes, believing Billy Hargrove would, of course, always be the main culprit of any disruptions, of any fights that broke out among the Hawkins High students.

Billy Hargrove, the man who had body slammed you into your locker during the first day of school because he ‘hadn’t seen you standing in his way’. The man who sit down in front of you during lunch break just to blow cigarette smoke in your face with a laugh. The man who then, later, when skipping class with the next skyscraper hair girl he had found to play tonsil tennis with, would flick said cigarrette buts out of his hand and onto your leg. In all honesty, he would say, he hadn’t even seen you sitting next to Steve Harrington on the bleachers.

Little did you know, that Billy Hargrove was trying to distract himself from how deeply, and utter terrifyingly much he was falling in love with you. He couldn’t get you: little, unknowing you out of his mind, and it was driving him insane.

The crowd here was so jubilant, singing the songs that belonged to the inebriated and joyful, so annoyingly happy. They rubbed shoulders, never minding that their toes were often trodden on or that they were in closer proximity to these strangers than they usually were every single day at school. The atmosphere was one of elation, the warm summer air occasionally punctuated by whoops and hollers.

Billy dropped down off the keg stand, finding a high, the only form of elation he could in his life from the roars of the boys around him as he saunters inside cheering. He reaches up to pull down the bunting that lines the ceilings, gritting his teeth in drunken victory. He buttons back up his shirt, hoping no one could see the slight red mark, the last remaining bruise in the shape of Neil Hargrove’s hand, but being too buzzed to fully care.

He sees you wander over to the pizza table from across the room, stepping on scattered cups and pieces of popcorn that litter the wooden floor. He frowns slightly as he watches you go, trying to draw his eyes away with a feeling he can only guess is close to some heartbreaking kind of longing. He snarled to himself, beating his chest and slapping Dean Mibrow on the shoulder as he passes by. Thinking about you too long reminded him of his mother: the things he wants most in life, will only break his heart in the end.

But the thought of the giddiness he would feel from just the touch of your skin muzzled his higher thinking in much the way the mass of beer he had just downed was. With his primitive brain in charge and the flood of endorphins urging him to continue he was swept away in the moment with his girl, his love. He was intoxicated.

Deciding which topping of pizza was going to be the best tasting one right that second, you don’t even notice John slide up to you, eyes glancing at your cheeks. He flashed you one of those signature half smiles that Hawkin heartbreakers were famous for, shifting closer towards you until his hand reached up to brush against your neck.

‘Hm, you smell delicious tonight, Y/n.’

‘And you’re drunk, John.’

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his football jacket, shrugging slightly. He couldn’t mask the look of slight annoyance that flitted over his face, however.

‘Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you have to be such a prude Y/n.’

‘Excuse me?’

You shivered as you tried to dodge the hand to started reaching towards your thigh.

‘I said-’

Before he could even reply, his body was flying forward onto the counter as Billy grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. Billy pinned him down, not enough to hurt him, but as his face loomed over John’s grimacing one, it was enough to instill fear into the jock’s heart.

‘You want to say that again? Say that shit one more time, I dare you.’

His voice was almost inaudible against the thumping music, but it was enough to make John’s legs start shaking from underneath Billy’s vest. You grab onto his arm, crying in surprise when Billy nearly rips his arm away, but he softens slightly under your touch.

‘Billy, it’s okay, everyone’s just really drunk. It’s fine.’

Billy’s grip falters as you grab onto his hand, one eyebrow twitching in confusion. When he realises that you’re not tugging away from him in disgust, he slowly interconnects his fingers with yours, letting his grip on John’s collar go.

‘Fine, but I’m giving you a ride home.’

The two of you just sit for a while on the hood of his Camaro, Billy kicking at the gravel with his boot as you just wonder. Wonder what on earth Billy Hargrove was doing.

‘Why are you being so nice to me. You hate me.’

Billy’s fingers reach behind him through the rolled down window to fumble with the radio buttons, switching the channels until he finds the track on the CD he’s looking for, ‘Kickstart my Heart’ by Motley Crue, turning it down slightly until the musical notes begin to blur in with your synchronised breathing.

‘I don’t hate you, Y/n. I hate most people in this shit hole town, but you’re not one of them.’

‘And you’re drunk as well, Billy.’

You smile at him warily, your heart beginning to pound at the hope that fills his swirling eyes, flecked with little pieces of gold as he looks at you like one of those hopeless romantics in a love movie, his chest shaking with each breath. Neither of you dare to move for a second, and all that can be heard between the two of you is the gentle hum of his engine.

‘And you’re warm.’

It takes you a second to realise what he means, before Billy’s forehead is resting gingerly on your shoulder and his arm drapes around your lower body. His fist is still trembling, slightly red against the knuckles as he grinds his teeth, scared by this moment of vulnerability. His voice rumbles against you as he continues,

‘And you’re beautiful.’

‘W-what?’

‘I didn’t tell you, because I don’t deserve you.’ He ducks his head for a second, his breath warm against your arm as he blinks the tears that rise up in the corner of his eyes away. ‘I break things, Y/n. All I do is break things, and you’re too perfect for someone as damaged as me.’

You laugh lightly at his nervous expression, wetting his plump lips almost subconsciously. He takes a deep breath in, staring at you with such an intensity you couldn’t place, but were willing to take a chance on.

‘I didn’t know you were soft for me.’

His smile faded, his expression growing deep. His eyes stared intently back at you, examining you, surveying you. His eyes travelled down to your lips, slowly pushing forward until his nose bumped against your forehead.

‘Only for you. But if you tell Harrington, you’re still dead.’

Buy me a Coffee?

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tuttifuckinfruttifriday · 4 years ago

Text

Part 2 of The Letter

Kill(h)er

Pairing: small Jason Voorheese x MJ, MJ x Malon, kind of Freddy Krueger x Malon and MJ

Warnings: angst, small gore/wound mention and kidnapping

Don’t hesitate to tell me if I did some mistakes :)!

—

MJ waited and didn’t get an answer back. She was starting to worry her letter wasn’t sent or got lost.... Maybe it took more time to send?? She didn’t really know how long it took from Crystal Lake to where her parents were, but she didn’t think it would be that long...So with a sigh, she got up from the table and decided she wanted to go take a walk, her standing startling her daughter who was drawing on the floor. “Can I come with you mommy??” The female only nodded taking her small hand. “We won’t be too long or daddy will worry.” Malon nodded and smiled sweetly before they opened the door and walked toward the path Jason made for them. It was paved with small rocks, so they could clearly see the trail. When they came at the end, they stopped.... Hearing police sirens???

Before they could do anything more, police officers ran toward them, guns raised as they looked at the mother and daughter. “My babyy!!!—“ To MJ’s shock, her mother ran toward her and hugged her tightly, her father following closely behind as the officers looked around, their guns still raised and their dogs, that MJ just now noticed, even more on alert. What was happening?! They’re not supposed to know where she is!! “Do you remember the way you’ve come from ma’am?” A kind looking woman officer asked her when her parents released her. “I... What are you doing here?? How....” MJ was speechless, looking at her parents and the 3 officers with her, the others already scattered in the woods when she didn’t answer the question the blonde asked her. “We’ll protect you, okay? They can’t hurt you anymore...” Her mother caressed her hair as she let down some tears, MJ doing the same as she realized the danger of the situation. “I.....” The costumed woman released a sigh as she looked around, her hand hovering over her gun.

“M...mommy...?” There were small tugs on her dress. A gasp escaped her as she remembered that she almost forgot Malon. When her parents heard the small voice, they jumped in the air as they didn’t think that they would hear a child’s voice. Five pairs of curious eyes wandered toward the figure hiding behind her mother’s skirt. The latter put a protective hand behind her, holding her daughter’s and hiding her a little more. The girl was startled when she heard the woman who hugged her mother’s curious voice. “Who... Who could this little angel be??” The female officer, who tried not to listen at first, turned with surprise toward the small being behind their supposed victim. The redhead didn’t respond to the question, so after a moment of silence, MJ looked toward her mother with a face deprived of any emotions, glaring as she suddenly felt defensive. “She’s my daughter, Malon.” Everybody’s eyes widened at the revelation as they totally didn’t expect that answer. But still wanting to be polite with her long lost daughter, MJ’s mother forced a smile and nudged her husband. “We didn’t thought you would have a daughter. Malon’s a beautiful name.... is the father—“ She immediately cut herself as her eyes widened again, realizing her mistake.

MJ’s wet eyes darkened as the possibility of them finding her undead husband came to her. They probably wouldn’t, since Jason’s probably already watching and hiding, but she just couldn’t help but worry. Some time after they came back, Malon crying in her mother’s arms, they walked back with MJ toward their car, her trying to protest without sounding too defensive about her supposed kidnapper as she told them she was fine. “That’s not what you send us, honey. Are you feeling well?” MJ frowned at her father’s voice, seeing him sending her a glance from the corner of his eye.

She still couldn’t believe it, so she stayed speechless and only glared at her father. The male didn’t even looked ashamed. Why was he being rude and cold toward her??

When they finally left, MJ saw her husband’s figure trough the back window, and tears started to stream down her face. Thinking that it was from relief, her mother hugged her close to her, Malon sleeping soundly from the crying.

Jason couldn’t help but let out some tears under his mask, his heart breaking. A small part of him told him that it she planned this all along and modified the letter after she showed him. But he knew it wasn’t what she wanted, the pain on her face and tears showing it. He even saw Malon crying, and it totally broke his heart even more. He would find how they found them, he promises himself that.

—

At the station, MJ’s parents asked her if she wanted to come back with them, but she obviously declined, even if she was really happy to see them. So she stayed at the station, the police wanting to know everything about the killer of camp Crystal Lake. When she only said a vague description, like that he wears a mask, they looked kind of angry, but she seriously didn’t care at the moment. When she finished, she cared tho, because she didn’t have anybody to take her home.

Home? She, or more like they, didn’t have a home anymore.

With a sigh, she looked at Malon who sat beside her and told her that she’s going to relieve herself, having drunk three cups of water because of her crying and not having gone to the bathroom or eaten anything the officers gave her since they’re here. Watching her mother go, her big eyes trained on her figure, Malon sat quietly and looked at the officers who passed her with curious eyes, since she’s never been to a police station. She didn’t really like being around a lot of people, because she’s never been for the most part of her life. Why wasn’t daddy here?...She wants him here....

When the door opened, her sparkling green eyes fell onto a kind of familiar figure, a male with a green and red sweater with a really kind face and a brown leather jacket. When she tried to remember how she knew him, she could only recall that she’d seen him when she was younger, but he really picked her curiosity.

He seemed to search for something, his kind eyes looking around the place and falling on her small figure, a soft and relieved smile appearing on his face. “Malon! You’re mother sent me to get you, darling.” He knew she wouldn’t remember his true form(for now), so he opened his arms and she hugged him, smiling. “Hi mister Fred!” A smirk appeared on his face as she called him like that, obviously remembering their talk they had. He took her by the hand, no officers protesting or finding it strange. They only made him sign a paper and show them his identity card, nodding and watching with a small smile the cute little girl going with her uncle. In the foreign car, the curious girl moved her feet back and forth from her seat, waiting to go find her mommy, her naivety helping in no way the situation she didn’t know she’s fallen in. While her thoughts were racing as she tried to remember more of how she knows him, his dark eyes looked into the rear-view mirror, a wicked smile spreading on his face as he finally had what he wanted.

“HELP—!!” The chair she’s bounded to rattle on the ground as she tried to get out of her binds, the skin of her wrists turning raw and starting to become bloody in her struggle. “Please.... somebody..........” Tears streamed down her face again as she sniffled, breathing heavily as what she could only guess as blood stained her forehead and dripped a little down. She didn’t know how long she’s been down here, but she felt really dizzy and her head hurt. There were scratches on her neck too, but she couldn’t see how bad it was, and she was kind of relieved since she could feel the burning and the blood still dripping. The air stung her wounds as the adrenaline dropped, her body growing weaker.... and her only thoughts being about how her little girl was alone with him.

———————

I dare you @randomly-a-fan to do another part if you want to, I’m really curious <3👀

#jason voorheese #randomly a fan

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coffee-randomness · 5 years ago

Text

Trembling

Here, have this medium! reader x Jason Todd of sorts fic no one asked for but I somehow ended up writing (to cope?).

Word count: 1431

Warnings: Mentions of death, ghost, violence, cemeteries, fire.

Tags: @0hmydeku @the-shadow-of-atlantis @insideoflit

The first time you felt the ground tremble under your feet, you were standing on a cemetery. No one else noticed the violent movement of the earth or the new figure standing amongst them, which was weird because it was dressed in a very bright and beautiful pink dress, contrasting with all the black. Your mother had passed away two days ago yet, you saw her with such vivity it brought tears to your eyes. She seemed solemn, looking down at the coffin that was being covered in dirt, a soft breeze that creep through your skin and rose goosebumps threading through her hair.

Remembering her laying in a bed and tainting a white cloth red with her coughs as nurses pulled you out of the room for the last time, you shook free from your aunt’s grasp and ran to her like you always did: bringing her flowers so she could tread her hair in the way you loved so much, bringing her drawings of her and your dad holding hands while he sat beside her, bringing her anything you knew would make her smile.

Your mother smiled at you and whispered about good and evil, of how you were both and she hoped you never had to hold so tightly onto one you forgot about the other. Then she turned away, leaving a kiss on your father’s cheek and you watched a faint glow enveloping her form before she disappeared forever.

It wasn’t until much later, on your fifteen birthday, that you understood what had happened that afternoon.

You were surrounded by your friends, admiring the precious cake they bought for you and you felt the chair, the dining table and the whole kitchen trembling so violently you were surprised nothing was falling or breaking. You held onto the edges of the table to keep balance, dizziness setting in your stomach, when you saw Amanda standing in front of you. She was covered in fire, half of her face bruised so bad you held back a scream and the whole room was starting to reek of burned hair and skin. However, no one stopped singing the happy birthday song.

“You need to let me spend the night here,” she said, eyes pleading.

Amanda was holding up the cake looking as happy as ever, yet she was burned almost to the crisp, two opposing figures of the same person converging in your vision. You thought that maybe this was a bad joke, that maybe Jason was hiding in some corner holding up a camera, stifling his laughter behind his palm like he did sometimes.

“Hey, are you okay?” said the other Amanda, worry leaking into her tone as she shook your shoulder.

The cake was now on the table in front of you, candles melting onto the frost. All of your friends were there, including Jason, who was looking at you with a mix of curiosity and fear, no camera in sight, just the lamenting figure of your worse for wear best friend and her perfectly normal, perfectly healthy counterpart.

You shook your head, prying your eyes away from the burned down Amanda. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Please, just don’t…” She stopped beside you, her sad expression bringing tears to your eyes. “Know you can avoid this.”

And just like that, she disappeared, the same mysterious halo that covered your mom all those years ago wrapping around her. You were left to celebrate your birthday with a bittersweet taste in your mouth, and when everyone started to go home, you held onto Amanda’s hand and begged her to stay, almost breaking down. She looked at you funny, still, she complied.

The next day, as your dad was driving you to school, you passed the ashes of Amanda’s house and you recall her panicked screams and sobs pressed against your shoulder, but she was there and your heart grew content and warm, knowing she was safe and alive.

Something odd happened the first time Jason kissed you, it had nothing to do with your crazy pulse or the dancing butterflies in your stomach, or with the way his thumb traced small circles in your heating cheeks as he leaned more into you, sighing. He pulled back, licking a smirk off his lips, eyes half-lidded with soft things you knew he would never say out loud, and smiled. You held his shoulders, feeling the mattress of his bed shake, the door opening and closing on its own.

There was a mask over his eyes, an unspoken secret, and a yellow cape hanging from his shoulders. It was brief, but it was there and it made you blink with confusion.

“Oh shit, I screwed up, I’m so sorry… I didn’t meant to, well of course I did, I just... ah fuck.” Jason stammered, scratching the back of his back and searching for apologies. “Look, I should’ve ask you first, I’m sorry I kissed you.”

You frowned. “Well, I’m not.”

“What?”

You cupped his face, ignoring the feeling of the leather that was not really there under your palm, and kissed him again. This time, as he pulled back, satisfaction was written all over his face.

“So, um…” He started, looking away from you. “Are we, you know?”

“Whatever you wanna call it, boy wonder,” you smiled.

Jason froze for a second, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Robin sneaking out of his opened window, a soft glow you were starting to get all too familiar with enveloping him.

“What, do you have a vigilante fantasy now?” he asked, trying to play it cool.

“Hmm,” you pretended to think, “I just think Robin’s neat.”

You shrugged and Jason laughed.

“Well, maybe one day I can introduce you two.” He pulled a strand of hair behind your ear. “Only if you promised not to leave me for him.”

The next time you saw Jason as Robin wasn’t that sweet. He was drenched in blood, beaten black and blue and standing at the end of your bed in the middle of the night, the near earthquake sensation having had woken you up. He said it was unavoidable and that he was sorry for never telling you outright who he was and what he did, and in a trembling whisper you could barely hear, that he loved you. Then he disappeared, the faint glow enveloping his form an odd color you weren’t able to pinpoint, and you cried your eyes out that night. And the ones that followed, with Amanda stroking your back and staying silent, because there was nothing she could say after watching you lost the only boy you had opened your heart to.

It felt as if the whole world was trembling down constantly. Anger filled your insides and somewhere deep inside of you, you swore to yourself you would never lost anyone like you lost Jason again. And, even though you haven’t dared to step on a cemetery ever since the afternoon your mother was buried, you talked to the disembodied forms that wandered in the night and learned all of the secrets they would whisper, sat in cold gravestones until the sun started to come from behind the clouds.

By the time the sound of bullets and motorcycles engines filled your dreams as the ground shook, you had already killed thirty men, scums that trafficked and sold and brought nothing to the world but suffering. The Fortune Teller, they called you, though you never quite liked the name until one night you stumbled upon a man wearing a red helmet and heard it straight from his lips.

“I have a deal for you,” he offered, voice jaded with something electronic that made it unrecognizable, and the ground shook enough to warn you.

A glimpse was enough to have you throwing away your careful demeanor, a boyish grin and ruffled pitch black hair.

“Jason?” you stuttered, trembling voice filling the empty space of your apartment.

“Damn, you’re as good as they say,” Red Hood whispered.

You saw him emerging from green waters, gasping for air, a literal zombie walking through the streets of Gotham. Brushing off death like it was a bad joke.

“Do you remember me?” you asked, hope filling your chest.

“As if I could ever forget you,” he answered and lifted the helmet so you could see his face.

Jason whispered your name, soft and filled with so much tenderness your breath trembled. Stepping back, you invited him in without any questions and it felt as if the world were a little more stable now that he was back.

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skeletonwoman · 5 years ago

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Jay is for Jacket

Hi!

So i recnelty posted J is for Jacket, and i really liked it but i felt that a lot of the nuance i was seeing as i was writing wasn’t being included. And i know it can be cheap to write the same story from two different perspectives but i just couldn’t not include the thought here, it was wriggling in my brain. so this might be a mini series and if it requires more Jason POV’s they’ll pair up in title like this

It’s him, Barbara, Cass and Steph. Not his usual group but sometimes a guy just needs some time with the girls.

Or that’s what he’ll tell Tim when he starts in on him about it. More than that, the girls are savages that definitely think exactly what he’s thinking.

They’ve all seen the texts, seen the smiles, seen the change. Dick had come right out and told them, he’s met a girl and shes his soulmate. It was a small kick in the chest for everyone, for different reasons, but none of them could deny the new wind of joy at the manor. Everyone was smiling more just Dicks radiant happiness.

He’d actually taken to avoiding the place.

And tonight, since it’s just him and the girls, they give in to the curiosity and take a wander over to her building. Light stalking aside, everyone is surprised when they see her just sitting there on the ledge.

He doesn’t think she’s there to hurt herself but Babs does, for a split second. He reads it in her stutter step.

Only one thing for it, he thinks. Just to reassure Babs, he promises. Just to see if they can see what Dick sees, he wishes.

It’s a few days and he’s back.

He doesn’t have a clue why, he’s not in love with a strange girl who sits beside four idiots and somehow emits such a calming influence that the four of them are nearly drunk by the time they leave.

Barbara promised to look into that and her, without telling Tim, but he can’t wait.

So after blowing up some idiots, Jason lets Dick go when he says that she told him to tell Jason its bed time, and when it actually works, when Dick realizes they’re done for the night and he can go to class tomorrow, he grabs his face and kisses him.

Idiot.

She’s a terrible influence on him.

And there she’s sitting, staring into the bright lights and the bright night and she doesn’t react when he sits down and the wind picks up but he senses her calm at his presence. Maybe she likes him too.

The thought makes his mind whirl, both with embarrassment that he wants to steal Dicks girl and the desperate hope that she might like him too.

She shivers.

His jacket is halfway off before he’s realized he’s moved and then suddenly its draped over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” slides through the air to brush his ears and he smiles behind the mask.

“You’re welcome.” He’s unsure why she thanked him, he probably should wash the jacket.

She’s wearing his jacket.

Shit, Dicks girlfriend is wearing his jacket.

But he can’t just snatch it off her now, her arms are in it and she’s so close to the edge.

Leaping to his feet, he races off into the night. What is he going to do? He just left Dick and immediately went to flirt with his brothers girlfriend!

That wasn’t his intention, though, obviously, he just wanted to see her. Calm down.

He’s got class with her tomorrow, he never shuts up about how he can’t wait for Tuesday and Wednesday to hang out with her.

He gets it now.

No! Not the point.

He’s back at the manor before he knows it, mask off and hanging from his fingertips, knowing there’s no way he can patrol tonight and knowing he can’t go home to his dark, cold apartment. The manor always has room, and the lights are always lit and its always warm.

Hurriedly, he steps into the warmth of the foyer and exhales a long breath.

No place feels quite as much like home.

He didn’t spend much time here, in the before, but it probably has less to do with being familiar with the place and more to do with the memories of his brothers hidden in the spaces.

Damian creeps through a door and stares at him as he stands in the middle of the room like a weirdo.

“Evil Spawn,” he offers as a greeting and the kid scowls. “What’re you doing awake? What time is it?”

“Midnight,” he says with that eerie knowing voice. He shouldn’t be so young and have that voice. “You’re here very early.”

“Yeah, it really is early.” His eyes drop to his feet, still parked in the middle of the room.

“Where’s your jacket?”

He scowls at his feet before wiping the expression away and replacing it with a more defined scowl. “I fucking lost it.”

Damian scowls back at him. “What’re you going to do then? Where’d you lose it? How’d it even come off?”

“I don’t know! I think I fell off a roof, a low one obviously, and I guess it got stolen? I don’t know.” He moves toward the doorway Damian’s standing in, knowing what comes next.

“Kneel down here,” Damian gestures to the floor in front of him and pulls a torch from his back pocket. One small hand captures his cheek while the other points to the roof and moves left to right. Then comes the torch. It’s all so well-choreographed now, allowing an eleven year old to check him for a concussion. “You’re good.”

He grins up at his tiniest brother, who scowls and rolls his eyes.

Without warning him, he rises and ruffles his hand through Damians hair, drawing a vicious curse from the childs lips. “You gonna make me something to eat, favourite sibling?”

“No.” Damian immediately counters sullenly, but he heads toward the kitchen all the same. “I’m throwing the dog a birthday party, by the way. Gifts are expected.”

This is why the manor is home, this is what makes it warm and bright.

He doesn’t get the text till late. 2pm late.

Dickson Grayne: Yo is your jacket missing I think ik where it is

Dickson Grayne: if urs is missing

He scowls at the phone, deciding not to respond. He doesn’t want to lie but she clearly wore the jacket in front of Dick without realizing they were connected. He’s gotta get it back, she can’t keep it, clearly.

He stares at the clock on his phone before he tosses it under his pillow and climbs into bed.

“Can I have it back?” He blurts before he can think and she wrinkles her nose at him, clearly annoyed, though he catches her smile as she turns to collect it from across the room. She hugs it when she picks it up.

Honestly, it looks like she sniffs it.

Maybe she has no sense of smell because he suddenly really feels the need to wash it before he gives it back.

No! No giving it back. Damn.

“Here,” she says, holding it out with a sad face. “I’m sad to see it go, it’s amazing and I’m jealous you own it. Where’d you get it?”

Before he can control himself, a harsh no escapes his masked lips and she flashes a scowl at him before masking her expression.

“Thank you for lending it to me, I really appreciated it, and have a wonderful night, Red.” The words hit his back and he stops for half a second to absorb them before taking off. He can’t think of her or the nickname right now.

Despite this, he thinks about her all night and when four am rolls around, he finds himself dropping his jacket onto her doorstep and taking off.

The first pet shop he finds will be fine. He’d have gone to a supermarket but he knew the evil spawn would know and be able to tell the difference.

It’s Titus’s birthday, and Damian is demanding everyone be present with presents for the dog.

No one celebrated his birthday last year but the dog gets a full party? Sure.

The bell rings as he walks in, already heading where he can see the collars and leads. Is that what the dog needs? New leash?

The moment he thinks it a rejection follows. Ace, letting someone leash him? As if.

All the same, he takes his time looking over the options and colours. He has no idea what he’s looking for at the this point, as he moves to the dog toys. It’s a great dane? Do they need special toys? Does Titus need special toys cause he’s a “special” dog? Should he be getting him a bat shaped toy?

He moves to the cat toys. More likely to find something bat shaped there.

A tickle runs over the back of his neck and his eyes follow the feeling to see- her.

She’s here. Staring at him. Does she- know?

He never asked what Dick had told her, what she knows. Does she even know who he is? Has Dick ever even mentioned his zombie brother?

She starts toward him and his eyes flicker over her features- she doesn’t recognise him. She has no idea who he is.

A flush of pleasure fills his body as he notices her check him out.

Good.

No! Bad!

She stops next to him as he forces his eyes to the toys before him.

“Anything I can help you find today?”

She sounds so different. His jaw tightens slightly, irrationally, and he inhales an unsteady breath at the distance she places between them.

Christ, he sounds like such a stalker.

Lowering his voice to how he imitates batman, he says “dog toy.” Hesitates. “Great Dane.”

She beams at him, still distant, and gestures to a pink elephant. Her voice is pretty darn sweet when she explains. “Some customers have issues with the colour but this guy is really the best on the market right now for dogs like great danes. Its tough, light weight, machine washable and there’s a squeaker inside.”

He grabs it before she finishes speaking, absorbing every word she offers him.

Disgusting.

He can’t help himself from offering a thank you, despite the seething and roiling mass of self-loathing in his gut. No one deserves love as much as Grayson, no one.

His gaze trips down to the elephant in his hands and he smiles. Damian is going to hate this, and Titus is going to love it. By the time he looks back up, you’ve taken off and he’s following your beckoning wave just like the stupid dog he’s gotten the gift for.

A flurry of short actions finishes off the transaction and Jason clutches the bag handles in his fist.

“Thank you,” he says, keeping his voice as Batman as he can.

He turns in a rush, storming two steps toward the doorway before he feels his gut tug him hard, and spin him back around.

Without thinking about consequences, Dick, Barbara or the Red Hood, Jason nabs a pen and her wrist, scribbling down his mobile number and asking her to text him.

It’s only out on the street when the doubts and worries crash back in does he realize that he forgot to disguise his voice.

“F*ck.”

Babby: Heads up, you know who is coming tonight

Jason stares at the text, his good mood melting away. Tonight was supposed to be his brothers, his siters, Alfred, the dog and Bruce. He was going to watch his brothers be happy, ignore Bruce and give Alfred a smile. Hell, he might have even let Dick hug him and rustled the Kids hair.

Now?

Ah, hell.

yea!!

Part two? yEAH!

#jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #jason todd #batbrothers fic #batbrothers imagine #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanficition #jason todd imagines

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chibinightowl · 5 years ago

Text

First Contact

Inspired by @tanekore‘s utterly amazing Jason Todd piece, Freedom Fighter. I meant to have this up last week, but life threw me a ton of lemons, so I had to deal with the influx first. The story is set a few years in the future of a JayDick piece I wrote last year, which can be read here (forewarned, it’s E). This story is most definitely not. ^_^

---

The quiet ping from Tim’s comm put him on instant alert. And what a time for it, right in the middle of a conference vid with Federation High Command. Thank the stars he was alone in his office on board the Titan because otherwise, someone would undoubtedly notice the quiet shift of his hands as he brought up a holoscreen beneath his desk.

Normally, he wouldn’t go through the effort during a meeting such as this, but the alert was one he’d been waiting, no, hoping for since he lost contact with the merchant vessel his ultimate trump card was carefully stashed away on. The AI was his greatest accomplishment, so the loss of the ship and his agent were devastating to his plans to regain control over the hijacked Unternet, the sub-particle web that connected all the planets and colonies in the system with Earth. Anything was possible on those data streams and the government needed to regain control before Ulysses Armstrong realized exactly what he now had access to.

Tim suspected Moneyspider was involved somehow and Oracle concurred. Between them, they knew just about everything worth knowing in the Earth Federation; their respective roles in the Intelligence Service giving them more power than that fool of a President could ever dream of. Unlike the Penguin, he and Barbara Gordon were determined to use this knowledge for the betterment of all.

There were plans in place to overthrow the current regime, plans that they’d been ready to implement at the start of the next election cycle. Plans that were now crashing around them because of Armstrong. The AI had been key and now, despite all the odds, it was signaling it was back online.

How was Tim’s main question as his fingers flew over the small screen while maintaining eye contact with Admiral Wayne and the other Commanders of the six fleets that made up Naval forces protecting the solar system. From what was always a favorite unvoiced question of his since most of their turmoil came from within rather than from beyond. Case in point, right here as Armstrong was one of theirs, a former Naval officer with a massive chip on his shoulder that was often directed right at him.

Humans and their drama, he’d heard a Kryptonian say with derision once where he wasn’t supposed to overhear. It wasn’t entirely wrong, especially since humanity seemed to carry with them eons of history that they behaved as though occurred yesterday. Always looking to the past, the Kryptonian had added before changing the topic.

Like they were ones to talk. There was a reason they were banned from this system. Or any other system with a yellow star.

Tim swiped at the small holoscreen, tapping in the codes to receive data from the AI. Where was it?

Streams of information flooded the screen, so fast his cybernetic-enhanced eyes could barely keep up. Dammit, this vid needed to end now. He could only listen to Ogilvy and Lark rehash the same stupid event for the third time. Neither of them came out of that looking great and both were determined to blame the other while trying to regain face with the Admiral.

Apparently, Admiral Wayne couldn’t stand to listen to it again either. “Alright, I think we’ve reached the end of the walk-ons,” he interrupted when Ogilvy paused for breath. “I expect to see all of you planet-side for the Naval graduation in three weeks. Until then, standard channels unless an emergency crops up.”

He didn’t give the others a chance to reply and disconnected the vid, ending the conference.

“Thank you,” Tim breathed, sending his holos to eye level with a flick of his wrist and expanding them. “TIM, load a chart of your current location.”

“Loading.”

A large blue orb appeared on a third holo above the other two.

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Neptune? How under the sun did you arrive there?”

The lost shuttle had been traveling between his base above Jupiter and Mars, using the interplanetary gates. Neptune’s current orbit could not be further away if it tried.

A new stream of data appeared, complex figures and symbols that only someone with cybernetics could understand. What Tim read made him grimace because Oracle’s suspicions were now confirmed. Armstrong had used the Unternet to interfere with the interplanetary gates.

This was not good. At all.

“Current status?”

“Power cells at 15%, no exterior damage, and my scans indicate no internal damage either. However, I am in the hands of a human male who claims to be one of the greatest hackers who ever lived and he’s on the verge of cracking my HUD.”

“Son of a bitch,” Tim swore, fingers flying across the screen as he attempted to narrow in his own satellites and scanners on the AI’s location. “Any chance to draw power from elsewhere?”

“I’ve got enough power for a self-destruct. Should I initiate?”

Good question. Tim frowned and glanced back at the screen showing Neptune.

“Get me a visual on your hacker.”

The image flickered and a face appeared, framed by untamed red hair and a grungy cap that should have seen the trash bin ages ago. He was human alright, and smart enough to wear protective goggles as he poked around at TIM’s HUD. There was something familiar about him, but with his eyes concealed, it was up to facial recognition to narrow the possibilities.

A list of possible names popped up, and Tim honed in on one immediately. Roy Harper, alias Arsenal. Member of the antigovernment group the Outlaws and listed as their resident munitions and technology expert. Hacker could probably fall under that category, although Tim suspected the man’s claims to be exaggerated unless things had drastically changed since the last time their paths crossed.

It was times like these that Tim missed the relative simplicity of his Academy days. Dick would not be happy if he were to learn about this.

Best not to tell him then.

“No need for self-destruct yet,” he instructed the AI. “The Outlaws aren’t as antiestablishment as they’d like the press to believe. In their own way, they’re trying to take the Penguin down too.”

Not that they were doing a good job of it. They needed a plan, structure. A leader who didn’t fly off the handle and blow things up at the drop of a hat.

“Standby then, sir?”

Tim watched as Harper leaned in closer. Another figure stood behind him, just over his shoulder, but wearing a full-face mask as opposed to Harper’s goggles. He zoomed in and stepped back in surprise.

It was an oni mask, grim and fearsome, and as red as the eyes of the man whose face it concealed. The thing was, he wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this sector of space. In fact, if he remembered correctly, the file stated he was near Venus on the New Arkham penal colony, sentenced for a lifetime of hard labor in the mines for more murders than Tim had fingers and toes.

Jason Todd. The Red Hood.

What the hell was he doing here?

Tim’s nearly obsessive need for answers had him sitting back down in his chair, eyes locked on the vid. “Yes. Standby and observe.”

---

Ghost ships never failed to give Jason the creeps. Death and him were old friends, but it didn’t make it any easier when the people bumping into him in zero-g never had a chance. An interplanetary gateway malfunction, Roy had guessed when they came upon the ship hanging in Neptune’s gravity-well. The large shuttle definitely wasn’t the type to travel long distances, and there wasn’t much out this far unless a person was readying to leave the system altogether. They were lucky the Starfire was of Tamaranean design, otherwise there would be no oxygen slowly filtering in from the docking port. This shuttle wasn’t the biggest he’d ever seen, but it was large enough for a good fifty or so passengers.

Where had it come from?

Jason pushed another drifting body away from where Roy crouched on the floor, the magnetic pull of their gravity-boots allowing them to stand still. “Seriously, let’s get out of here already.”

“Someone afraid of a bunch of dead people?”

“I see dead people all the time. You’re next if you don’t move your ass.”

Roy ignored him, entranced with the new toy he’d found drifting amongst the other detritus. “You don’t get it, Jaybird. This is DI tech. Drake Industries. We’re talking top-of-the-line, best of the best, tech here. It’s so expensive I can’t even afford it in my dreams.”

“You can’t even afford a new hat.”

“Go poke through the engine room. If there’s any charge left to those ion batteries, we’ll be sittin’ pretty for a cycle or more.”

Jason sighed as he wandered away. This was what he was reduced to, sifting through wreckage of dead vessels and scavenging for goods that would put food in his stomach and recharge the fuel cells on Kory’s ship. The last attempt to gain a foothold in the Federation had crippled the Outlaws more than the government likely realized, and it wasn’t just because they’d captured him.

No, even after his rescue by the two most incredible people he’d ever known, it all boiled down to one thing.

Money.

Well, money and information. Neither of which were in great abundance at the moment.

So here they were, out in the back of beyond licking their wounds and biding their time. Another opportunity to take a stab at the Penguin would come again. It had to, because otherwise, what was the point? What had he given everything up for if not for that one chance to make things right, better for everyone in the Earth Federation?

Not for the first time, an image of Dick flashed before his eyes and Jason shoved the thought away with a grimace. Fuck memory lane and fuck Dick Grayson. The past was the past and he’d more than learned from the mistakes he’d made there.

The engine room proved to have nothing but inert batteries, the charge to them utterly neutralized by the energies of a malfunctioning gateway. Jason shoved the last tube back into its casing and scowled. There went any chance of a decent meal unless he wanted to sift through the luggage in the hold.

Why the fuck not? It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, not with Roy still poking and prodding at that piece of DI tech.

The cold, dark air in the storage compartments made Jason shiver as soon as he entered. With all the pods, it reminded him of a tomb. In a way it was, as everything down here wasn’t needed by the people floating up above. Chances were likely all the passengers died when the gateway created the wormhole that sent them out here, but there might have been a few stragglers who slowly suffocated as the air ran out.

He got to work, switching on a light-stick to see by, and sorted through the luggage pods. There were a few promising items. Earth gems always garnered some decent creds outside the system, so the jewelry he found was stashed away quick enough. A silken robe he set aside for Kory, and in the depths of one suitcase, he found a stash of physical cred chips.

Maybe there would be some beef to add to his broccoli after all.

“Hey, Jay!” Roy called from above. “You down here?”

“Yeah!” Jason returned to the stairs so he wouldn’t need to shout. “The engine room was a bust, but you might want to check it out, just in case. Got a few things in here that might be worth something if we head over to Vega for the exchange.”

Roy clomped down the stairs, the pull on his boots against the metal making it ring with each step. “You won’t believe what this is.” He held out the thick, circular disc he’d been messing around with earlier.

“Something we can trade for a shit ton of creds?”

“Technically, yes. However, I think we might want to keep it.”

Jason frowned, not sure what his best friend was getting at. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t just DI tech. This is Drake Industries AI tech.”

Well now. Even he’d heard rumors about the kind of artificial intelligence DI was involved with. All military grade stuff too, the kind that required the highest of clearances to even be in the same room with it.

And now, here they were with what could be one of the most cutting-edge AIs in the system.

He sighed, not looking forward to poking through the bodies upstairs to see who it might have belonged to. “What have you done to it?”

Roy laughed, eyes a little wild as he slipped his shades back on. It didn’t matter that it was darker than the murk that constantly surrounded New Gotham, the man could see perfectly with them. “Charged the battery a bit. It was almost dead.”

“Are we gonna die if we turn this thing on?”

“Probably not.” Roy handed the disc to him. “At least, I’m 60% sure.”

Jason had lived through worse odds, but because he had a reputation to maintain, he still gave his friend shit. “Gee, that’s reassuring. And since you’re just so goddamned skilled at putting me at ease, I’m covering my face. The last thing we need is the Federation on our asses right now.”

Roy shrugged and took a few steps back as Jason slid his oni mask on. It used the same lens technology as Roy’s shades. “Your funeral.”

“Yeah, it is.”

It wasn’t that Jason didn’t trust Roy. He knew in the coldest cockles of his heart that the man would never betray him. The problem was, his best friend was erratically brilliant and if what he said about this piece of tech was in anyway accurate, then they had a treasure trove of information and access into the inner workings of the Federation in their hands.

This was the edge the Outlaws needed to get back in the game.

If he wasn’t, then chances were likely they were about to get fucked because that was the way their luck had been of late.

“Here goes nothing.” Jason pressed lightly on the activation sensor.

The device illuminated and spun in his hand, glowing with a faint blue light as it hovered before them. A hologram appeared, about ten inches in height, of what appeared to be a human male. A rather attractive one at that, with fine features, sharp cheekbones, and an even sharper jaw.

Whoever made the AI, they were definitely projecting a fantasy because no man could be that good looking.

The hologram’s eyes narrowed. “I am TIM, designation 003-07-19. Who are you?”

Was that a bit of sass Jason’s ears detected? “Who do you think we are?” he asked instead, wanting to see what this thing could do.

A small HUD light up in front of TIM the AI. “Visual scans indicate Roy Harper, known as Arsenal, and Jason Todd, the Red Hood. Members of the antigovernment group the Outlaws.” Those eyes narrowed again. “Such an original name,” he muttered.

“Hey, who’re you to judge?” Jason shoved his mask up over his head because there was apparently no point in hiding behind it. With the light the AI was giving off, he could see just fine. “What kind of AI are you?”

“I am TIM,” the hologram replied. “Tactical Information Manager. Series 003-07-19.”

At least he answered direct questions. Why wasn’t he checking for clearance codes? Was this a private piece of tech rather than Navy? If so, whoever created this was a goddamned genius.

“Okay, TIM. Here’s the deal. We found you on board a ghost ship. There’s not a living soul out here except for me and Roy. You do what we tell you, we’ll bring you back to the inner ring.”

Eventually. Jason crossed his toes in his boots, a habit from childhood he never quite grew out of.

“My files indicate you are supposed to be on the New Arkham penal colony.”

Jason smirked. Looked like the government didn’t want to admit they’d fucked up and lost him. “Does it look like we’re on New Arkham? I don’t think so.”

“No, coordinates indicate we are orbiting Neptune.”

Looked like TIM’s data relays were connecting to the Starfire’s mainframe. Whether that was a good thing or not was for Roy to decide. Although, Kory would be pissed if they’d managed to fuck up her ship while she was undercover on the Titan. “Yeah, it’s a real gas.”

The humor was lost on the AI. “Did you escape then? Please tell me how so that I can update my files.”

“Don’t think so, Timmy. If the government wants to believe they still have me all safe and sound in that hellhole, let them. It’s their fault they couldn’t keep me there in the first place.” Not that he ever made it there, but the AI didn’t need to know that.

“My name is TIM, not Timmy.” The AI sounded almost prissy.

Jason leaned forward. “Your name is whatever I feel like calling ya.”

“Then that will make it hard to determine if you need my services or are speaking to the bots.”

“What the fuck kind of AI are you?”

“The best kind.”

--- Behind the HUD, the real Tim snickered as Todd’s posturing turned more and more into bewilderment the longer he bickered with TIM. Or maybe it was his makeshift uniform because who under the sun finds a man with an ice cream pin tacked onto his jacket intimidating? It even smiled.

Still, this was a unique opportunity and one that he wasn’t about to waste. The Outlaws were working toward a similar goal as he and Oracle, even if they approached it from a different angle. How did that old adage go? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?

Yes, he could make this work. Possibly even use these men to further his own goals and take out Armstrong. Wasn’t there a third person who was part of the main crew, a Tamaranean female? He’d have to check.

“The best kind,” Todd repeated, mocking while Harper snickered beside him. “Someone’s got a massively high opinion of himself.”

“Says the man who’s holding his life and jacket together with safety pins and duct tape,” Tim replied, and the AI repeated the words.

Todd’s face turned red and he pointed a gloved finger at TIM. “Listen here, TIM. I recognize DI tech when I see it. That shit’s top notch and so are you. And right now, you’re mine. So whatever backtalk you’ve got programmed into your behavioral patterns, forget it.”

“I’m afraid you’re sadly mistaken,” the AI stated on its own. “Part of my programming includes the ability to verbally spar. My maker designed me so.”

Yes, and he was rather proud of that little fact. TIM was an extension of himself after all, designed to go where he could not.

“They programmed you to annoy the fuck outta people?”

“You are not my maker and I am not being used for my intended purpose. As such, anything I can do to complete my mission, I will.”

Harper whistled, low and slow. “Wow. I had no idea AI technology was this advanced. Those are subversive behavior patterns, right there.”

But Todd grinned slowly and held TIM higher. This close, Tim found himself face to face with a pair of stunning teal eyes, not red at all like the file stated. Were they his real color? He mentally smacked himself. Now was not the time to fixate on a pair of attractive eyes.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

The sad thing was, Tim was highly inclined to agree with him.

#chibinightowl writes #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #preJayTim #space AU

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themaribatpit · 3 years ago

Text

Jasonette July Day 3: Grave

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: Grave (EDIT : trying to make it look consistent)

Rated: T

Side note: Tikki and Plagg being the ones who created the Lazarus pits is my favourite bit of Maribat crossover lore.

Marinette had only known Jason for about a year, ever since that day he commissioned her for a new suit and leather jacket design. She had seen news reports about the Red Hood, but she had never seen him in person ever since she came to Gotham. That was until he visited her just as she was getting ready to close up shop. Marinette needed to know why her mysterious client was asking her to work with a great big bolt of Kevlar. It seemed like a challenging task for the young boutique owner. It wasn’t necessarily being used for nefarious purposes. He was a crimefighter, one of many that tried to keep Gotham safe. Tikki felt like there was something strange about him, but she couldn’t quite put their finger on why.

She didn’t think she’d ever see him again, until one night when there was a loud banging on the boutique door. Marinette was about to say something about people having no manners when she saw a redhead in a red suit and a green cap…with someone’s arm slung over his shoulder. Marinette rushed to the front door to find the Red Hood, with his helmet cracked to reveal a part of his face. She could make out some matted dark hair and a red domino mask around his eye. “Please, do you think he can lay low in here for a while? At least until we can get him fixed up,” the redhead asked, “we can’t take him to the hospital”. Marinette looked around before hurrying them inside.

She got to know more about Jason, the person behind the red mask. There’s only so much you can hide from a person after they end up cleaning and stitching your wounds in their apartment. He told her that he slept on the streets of Gotham before being taken in by Batman when he was 13. He told her that, when he was 15, he went on a journey to find his birth mother and he was never the same since. Jason would say that the old him died that day. Marinette assumed he meant that he was so drastically changed by the experience, that he was unrecognizable from his old self. Still, she got to know the person he was in that moment, and that was what mattered. The two became close and started dating shortly after, and Marinette told him that she had been a superhero since she was 13. Marinette remembered seeing a worried look on his face, before assuring him that she was up against very different villains from what he was used to in Gotham. Marinette wondered if he was worried that she could have ended up like him?

Marinette knew that there was a roguish charm to him, possibly a remnant of the young boy he described from his past. She would occasionally help him as Ladybug, and he became impressed with her quick thinking in a fight. Marinette told him about the time she got a rocket launcher as a lucky charm and discarded it because she only needed the targeting laser. She was certain that she saw a tear in his eye at that moment. Marinette also knew he was someone who cared about those close to him, a group of people who now included her. She got the chance to meet the rest of his adopted family, that is when he wasn’t at odds with them. Dick reminded her far too much of Chat Noir, Damian was a lot colder and more standoffish, Tim told her he’s like that with everyone. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Marinette knew Jason would put his life on the line for his adopted brothers. She came to know Roy as the more optimistic of their dynamic duo, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t battling demons of his own. As the year went on, Marinette went from being unsure about him, to feeling safe and warm with him by her side. Even Tikki came to see that whoever this person was, he made their Guardian happy, and that was what mattered most.

Today, however, Marinette had been worried sick. Jason had left for a mission in a rush, barely able to say goodbye. That was days ago, he had not answered any of her messages or her calls. She paced around the apartment in a panic, “why isn’t he answering? Is he hurt? Captured? Worse yet…dead?” She slapped her cheeks, trying to snap out of it.

“Jason’s strong, he can handle it. If he’s in trouble, I’m sure Dick or Tim would help him. If he’s really in trouble, Bruce would certainly help him,” Tikki assured her as Marinette paced around the room.

Marinette decided to take a trip to Wayne Manor, having some of Alfred’s baking would calm them both and she could ask him about Jason’s whereabouts. Ladybug sets off to Wayne Manor, changing back before she arrives at the front gate. When she arrives in the kitchen, she is greeted by Alfred wearing an apron. "Welcome Miss Dupain-Cheng, you're just in time. I'm doing the finishing touches on the ginger biscuits. Why don't you take a seat while they cool?"

Marinette smiles at Alfred, she could smell the biscuits from the front door. "Thanks, Alfred, I came to ask about Jason. I haven’t heard from him in a while,” she asked.

Alfred scratched his chin, "Master Todd? It would be best to ask Master Bruce then if it's related to work. He is currently asleep and should wake up in an hour or two"

“Thanks, Alfred, mind if I have a few biscuits to go then? I'd like to have a walk in the gardens, " she asked.

Alfred nodded and handed the biscuits to her in a paper bag.

Marinette took a stroll around Wayne Manor, walking past Damian drawing something, whilst a large dog was curled around him. She came across the private Wayne cemetery at the very edge of the estate. She was drawn in by the Gothic architecture and design of the area. Curious about the history of the Wayne family, she tentatively wandered into the graveyard. She saw the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Everyone knew the story of how Bruce watched in horror as they were killed in Crime Alley.

She froze in shock as she saw one grave in particular, tears began forming in her eyes. “Here Lies Jason Peter Todd: Gone But Not Forgotten” in large bold letters. She felt her heart breaking, many questions raced through her mind. How did he die? Why didn’t anyone tell her? Did no one at least think to invite her to the funeral? She was too stunned to move, Tikki floated down to take a close look. Before she could utterly break down in tears, she heard a voice behind her.

“Hey, Pixie Pop” Marinette whipped around to see Jason standing before her. He was casually eating a chilli dog, acting as if standing in front of his gravestone was the most natural thing in the world. Marinette didn’t know if she should feel happy, distraught or furious. At first, she slammed into him, hugging him tightly. “Hey, Pixie, did you miss me that much?” He was about to return her hug, and maybe finish eating the chilli dog over her shoulder, when she softly pounded her fists into his chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She asked, her fists punctuating her words, Jason was trying to make sense of what she meant. He had told her that he had died before, or at least tried to. Even he didn’t like to talk about it, the events leading up to it and how he was brought back. Eventually, she stopped, and just curled into him with tears streaming down her face. Right now, the last thing she needed was dumb jokes as he held her close to him.

“I’m sorry, I” Jason tried to explain, only to be interrupted by Tikki.

“Marinette,” Tikki called, Marinette looked back at the gravestone to see the date written on the tombstone. The year was 7 years ago when Jason was around 15.

She turned back to Jason “so when you said that your old self died…”, Tikki finally realised why she always felt there was something strange about him. The Lazarus pits, the result of a wish that she and Plagg were forced to grant long ago. Tikki could sense her magic on him, and a faint hint of Plagg’s magic that would consume him if left unchecked. In the time he’d known Marinette, he had managed to keep it under control, for her sake.

“So what happened? These last few days I mean,” she asked as she pulled away, wiping her tears on her sleeves before crossing her arms.

“I was gonna call you, Roy and I were in Paris fighting killer mimes when one of them fried my phone,” he explained. “I tried to get you something to eat from your parents’ bakery on the last day we were there, your parents said ‘hi’ by the way”, he told her.

“Then what happened?” she asked, he wasn’t holding any paper bags or boxes with their logo on them.

“Roy ate them all is what happened, right after his little talk with Killer Croc,” he told her.

“So why didn’t you just drop by for a visit when you came back?” she asked.

“We tried to, but Roy was craving chilli dogs and I was just ready to crash,” he replied. The look on Marinette’s face told him that if he didn’t do something, he might be back in that grave a lot sooner than he thought. “Look, I’ll make it up to you, starting with taking you to that little craft store you love…” he suggested, the corner of her mouth pulled into a slight smile. “I’ll buy you as much silk, satin and tulle as you want. Paid for with money we got from kicking killer mime ass”, he promised.

“You mean I’ll get a chance to sew something that isn’t Kevlar, leather or your flesh? Who are you and what have you done with the real Jason?” She asked jokingly. As the two of them walked away, Jason wrapped his arm around her. He glanced back at his tombstone, that boy had been gone for quite some time now. Right now, he was just trying to be a better man.

#jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette #maribat

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tinalbion · 6 years ago

Note

May I so kindly ask of thee to deliver me your finest Michael, Buckman, Jason and Nathan with an s/o that quite sick and can't move? (Totally not talking about myself right now pshhh what?)

Oh no, horror mom isn’t feeling well?! This shall not do! Boys, get to it!

Michael

When he had arrived back to your place once it was dark out, Michael realized that you had left the door open as usual, but you weren’t there to greet him, which was slightly alarming. He was always so used to your face lighting up once he walked in, but he was only greeted with a folded note on the counter with his name beautifully written on it.

He read it and let out a deep sigh while he placed the kitchen knife gently on the countertop, then he had taken notice of the little things around the kitchen that wasn’t normally there. Nothing had been touched all day besides an empty can that was sitting on the stove top.

He heard you coughing loudly from upstairs, and he could tell that your throat was dry, there was nothing to cough up. He peeked his head in the doorway as he watched you lay motionless on your bed, he had never seen you in such a state before, and it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to watch.

He stepped in and looked at you with a tilted head, his eyes gazing upon your face. You looked as white as a sheet and your skin was clammy, your breathing was shaky as your chest rose gently up and down. He could hear you wheezing as you struggled to breathe. Deep down, he was thankful that he never got sick, but he felt terrible seeing you like this.

Michael sat down on the edge of the bed and reached his hand out to stroke the side of your face. You stirred slightly to face him, and you offered a weak smile.

“Michael, hi,” you greeted with a raspy voice. He didn’t speak, but he motioned to you as if to ask you what happened. “I’m just sick, it’s the flu season after all.”

He wanted to help you and to do all he could to make sure you would return to your normal self quickly. He signed to you, asking what he could do to help you. You told him not to worry, but he insisted that he help, whether you wanted him to or not.

He started off by drawing you a hot bath, hoping the steam would help clear out your sinuses. Of course, he would carry you in and out of the bathroom since you were so weak, and he had no problem doing so, much to your own embarrassment. Then he made you a bowl of soup and served you with plenty of fluids to keep you hydrated, making sure you ate all of it.

He kept you company until you fell asleep beside him, where he guarded you all throughout the night and made sure you would sleep peacefully.

Buckman

Being dead had its perks, like never getting sick ever again, but the curse didn’t affect you, so it hit you pretty hard one day. You had promised Buckman that you two would enjoy a picnic together in the nearby field, but when you didn’t meet him at the time you agreed on, he grew worried. He stormed the town looking for you, mainly hurt that you would stand him up! How could you?

Once he stepped inside your quarters, he could hear you in the bathroom puking your guts out. He flinched at the atrocious sounds, but he felt terrible. He didn’t mean to be upset with you, he had no idea you were ill. Buckman knocked on your door and smiled as he happily called out your name.

“Oh darlin’, are you alright? Yodon'tnt sound too hot.”

“Bucky,” you groaned as you sat weakly on the floor, but you couldn’t push forth any strength to say anything else.

He gave you a look through the door as if his heart broke. He hated hearing you like this, so he warned that he was coming in, but you couldn’t even argue. The mayor looked down at you and rushed to your side, his arm around you and pulled you up to your feet.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed where you can rest.” He gave you a smile as he had you walk with him, his arm wrapped around your waist as your arm was draped over his shoulders. “I was almost worried when you didn’t show up to our picnic, so I’m glad I got here in time.”

“Bucky, please,” you sighed as you dropped down onto the mattress, “I’m fine, I just need sleep, you don’t have to-”

“Oh no, no. I am not going to take any lip from you, honey. Just lay there and I will be the mother hen nursing my sick little chick back to health.” He chuckled as he looked down at you, then he planted a soft kiss on your heated forehead.

Jason

In the middle of winter, the camp was slow and Jason had very little to worry about when it came to people intruding. So when he found out you were sicker than a dog, he seemed rather sad, he had no idea what it was like to care for anyone who was sick. You kept provisions in the cabin for yourself and had essentials, but when you woke up several hours later than you normally would, you could barely move.

Your body ached all over as you tossed around under the blankets, trying your best to find a spot where you could be comfortable and be able to breathe. No such luck. Jason came back after gathering firewood all morning and hunting for game, but he had no idea you were so bedridden.

When he walked into the room and looked to see you still laying in bed with the sheets pulled up to your face, he was curious that maybe you just wanted a day to sleep. But once you noticed him, you called to him in a voice that didn’t sound like your usual tone.

He looked back at you and walked up to the edge of the bed, peeking over to look at you directly in the face. He noticed the usual blush in your cheeks was gone and your eyes looked glassy. You weren’t well and he wasn’t oblivious to that. He cupped your face in one of his large hands and gently bumped the forehead of his mask to your face, hoping that the contact would help you smile. It worked.

You reached up and placed a hand on the back of his neck, snickering quietly as you looked up into his eyes. “Hey big guy, sorry I couldn’t help this morning. I’m pretty sick so I won’t be leaving the bed anytime soon.”

He let out a low mumble and grabbed onto your hand, squeezing it in his own. He wanted to stay by your side and help you through this, so that’s what he planned on doing. Anything you need, he’d be there to get it for you.

You chuckled as he stood up and told you ‘one moment’, and he came back several minutes later with an armful of random things he thought would help you feel much better. There was your favorite plush throw from the couch, a pair of your slipper socks you wore on cold days, damp cloth for your head, and a bottle of water.

Your face lit up with love for that man as you attempted to sit up, but Jason had dropped the pile of things on the bed and was quickly there to help you, his hand on your back as you struggled to push your body forward. He was a huge help, and you figured being sick wouldn’t be too bad after all.

Nathan

With the way Nathan looked at you as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom, you thought something had happened. Your eyes looked as if you hadn’t slept in weeks, but you tried your best to put your best foot forward and ignore the creeping feeling of another round of throwing up.

He stood up from his chair and set his book down, and within seconds he was holding you up against him. The back of his hand was pressed against your forehead, and the results weren’t good.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” he asked with hurt straining his voice.

“I didn’t want to worry you, Nathan, you’re a busy man.”

“I’m never too busy to be there for you, Y/N,” he retorted softly.

He quickly helped you into the bedroom and covered you up and even fluffed your pillows. He was there and he would do everything in his power to make you well again. Ever since he was able to take care of Shilo, he knew he could help you, too. He began to raid the medicine cabinet for anything to help settle your stomach, then he wandered out to the kitchen to prepare a stomach friendly meal for you.

Once he came back, he was holding a tray that he set over your lap with a serious expression plastered on his face. “Now you need to take one of these after you eat,” he pointed to a small pill, “and be sure it’s after you eat, no sooner.”

He sure was a doctor. You scoffed. “Alright, mom,” you joked weakly.

He looked down at you with a stern face at first, but seeing you smile even though your body was sore and fighting off one hell of a case of the flu, he couldn’t help but smile. Putting up with this was nothing, and he’d happily do it again and again for you.

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aion-rsa · 5 years ago

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The Weird History of Friday the 13th Comics

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Friday the 13th boasts some of the strangest movie tie-in comics ever made. We hit the bloody highs and lows. Mostly lows.

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Friday the 13th’s Jason Voorhees has been part of pop-culture for decades. It shouldn’t be surprising that he’s had his share of comic book adventures, what with him essentially being a supervillain in a story with no superheroes. Granted, he’s a one-dimensional supervillain with an incredibly vague origin story, but he’s been memorable enough to land him a dozen movie appearances. Many have told his tale in comic form and since the early '90s, he’s been represented by three different publishers.

The surprising thing to me is that the earliest Jason comic is only in the early 90s. For comparison, the RoboCop comics all stretched across the franchise’s entire existence. They were around for all four movies as well as the stretch where he was just about nostalgia. Jason Voorhees didn’t get the same treatment. For the most part, they missed the boat.

Topps Comics first picked up the license and Jason’s comic book debut came in July of 1993. Two comics came out this month with Jason in them, so it’s hard to say what was his very first appearance. One of the two comics was Satan’s Six #4 by Tony Isabella and John Cleary. We’re already bonkers out the gate here. Satan’s Six was part of the Secret City Saga, where Topps created a big story using a bunch of leftover Jack Kirby ideas that he never did anything with in the form of several miniseries that intertwined (think Grant Morrison’s Seven Soldiers). It didn’t last long enough to finish and with Satan’s Six, it’s no wonder.

The comic is a comedy about the demonic Odious Kamodious, who has his own team of agents out to create chaos in his name, only they always screw up. In the very beginning of this issue, Kamodious gets in an argument with one of his demons Frightful and threatens to replace him. He summons Jason Voorhees, who proceeds to talk like Rorschach and try to kill anything nearby.

Anyone else find randomly and casually tossing Jason into a superhero universe’s continuity really weird?

Frightful and teammate Bluedragon go after Jason, but he responds by throwing them a couple times and saying, “HRMM,” a lot. Despite only appearing for a couple of pages, Jason says that six times. Kamodious summons him back where he found him and starts making a blatant reference about Jason going to Hell. The angelic Pristine interrupts and calls out how this was a pointless cameo to justify advertising Jason on the cover, which came at the cost of continuing their very story. And at that point, readers stopped caring.

As Kamodious referenced, Jason was at the time starring in Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday, otherwise known as Friday the 13th Part IX. Based on the screenplay, the comic is written by Andy Mangels and drawn by Cynthia Martin.

That’s how far down the pipeline we are. By this point, the movie franchise was in dire straits. By the time any comic company thinks of doing anything with Friday the 13th, we’re already at the ninth movie, which was the last Jason movie for eight years. The really bizarre one.

If you haven’t seen it or don’t remember, Jason Goes to Hell is the movie where the FBI finally decides to do something about Jason and blows him to kingdom come in the first few minutes, onlit turns out that he can’t be killed unless stabbed in the heart by another Voorhees (though the comic keeps spelling it “Vorhees”). So Jason’s heart hypnotizes the coroner into eating it and he goes around vomiting the heart into people’s throats to change hosts until he can find and kill the rest of his bloodline.

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It’s an example of knowing that you have to do something new and fresh, yet still driving way off the road. Also, if you’re all about drawings of bare asses, this is the comic for you!

But really, all anyone remembers Jason Goes to Hell for is that cameo at the end when Freddy Krueger pulls down Jason’s mask and cackles. That was the original “Nick Fury asks Tony Stark to join the Avengers” moment. It just, you know, took ten years, is all.

Topps didn’t want to wait to give us a big slasher icon crossover and while they didn’t get the rights to Freddy, they got the next best thing. Okay, they didn’t get Michael Meyers, but the next best thing after that. No, they didn’t get Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof, but—Listen, they got Leatherface from Texas Chainsaw Massacre, okay? More specifically, we got Jason vs. Leatherface, a three-part series by Nancy Collins, David Imhoff, and Jeff Butler.

Despite being released in 1995, the chronology is very choosy, ignoring the history of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre stuff to make sure Leatherface and his brothers Cook and Hitchhiker are both alive. As for Jason, this takes place after Part VI, where he’s chained to the bottom of Camp Crystal Lake. Some corporate types have the lake drained of all the toxic grossness and Jason goes with it. He kind of wanders around, kills a bunch of people on train, and eventually comes across Sawyerville, where Leatherface and Hitchhiker are stalking some poor soul. Jason ends up getting in a scrap with them, where he disarms Leatherface (not literally for once), kills their victim, and then – in a surprising act – hands Leatherface his chainsaw.

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There’s this feeling of acceptance between the two parties, leading to Jason being practically adopted into their family. This leads to a really awesome moment where Cook asks him his name. Since these guys need to start calling him Jason and he doesn’t actually speak, Collins goes about it in a clever way.

Through this partnership, we see the differences. While Jason is a ruthless murderer, he isn’t so much a sadist, at least not as much as the Sawyer family. He’ll kill the victims, but Hitchhiker will get on his case for doing it too quickly and not torturing anyone. Mainly, Jason gets along with them due to the way he sees his younger self in Leatherface. For once, he feels sympathy and it drives him to hate Hitchhiker for constantly being such a dick. From there, it becomes Jason vs. the three brothers, where Leatherface will protect his family, even if he does show appreciation for Jason standing up for him.

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There wouldn’t be any more Jason comics for a decade until Avatar Press picked up the license in 2005. I had a lot of bad stuff to say about Avatar in the RoboCop article, but here, the ugly, mean-spirited, blood-and-chunks-covered style is a perfect home for Friday the 13th. If anything, it’s a fitting response to how most of the Friday the 13th movies were edited to oblivion by the MPAA to hide all the gore. Now we can see Jason punch a guy in the head so hard that it comes out his ass!

Avatar mostly released a bunch of one-shots, starting with Friday the 13th Special by Brian Pulido and Mike Wolfer. The Avatar Friday the 13th comics have some actual strong ideas mixed in there, but they also rely on doing the same thing over and over again...much like the movies, but in a different way. While every single comic of theirs has at least one softcore sex scene, there’s also a constant theme of the 1% screwing things up for everyone. Like in Friday the 13th Special, it’s about the children of the man who previously owned Camp Crystal Lake. The daughter, a shrewd businesswoman, insists on not letting that land go to waste despite the piles and piles of dead bodies showing why that’s a bad idea.

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To be fair, she goes about it the right way. If Jason’s hanging around the woods, just hire a ton of military guys to take him out. That basically took care of Jason in the very beginning of the ninth movie, didn’t it? Too bad being in a comic book has caused him to go through a major power creep, and he’s now able to power through having a huge chunk of him blown off by a grenade launcher, as it just heals up in seconds. Jason’s way too overpowered and that continues on for the next year of comics.

Pulido and Wolfer would get back together to do a three-parter called Bloodbath and it’s easily the best thing to come out of the Avatar run. It has some serious dialogue issues, but the basic idea could have been the basis for a Friday the 13th movie and I would be totally okay with it. It actually comes across as a prototype for Cabin in the Woods.

It has to do with Camp Crystal Lake being opened yet again, this time with ten teen counselors brought in early to get acquainted a day or so before the campers are said to show up. Their boss is Kevin Carny, a kindly southern guy who appears to be really laid back about everything. He wants everyone to be responsible during the daytime, but at night, they’re welcome to enjoy the hot tub, an excess of beer, and each other’s naked company. The counselors all hit it off and immediately pair up with no problem. In fact, they pair up a little too easily, like they were handpicked. Discovered through some really unnatural dialogue, they all come to realize that all ten of them are orphans and have no families. Strange. It’s almost like if something were to happen to them all, nobody would really care enough to look into it.

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Naturally, there’s more to Carny than meets the eye. Much like in Jason X, the military and corporations are very into the idea of bringing Jason in for the sake of studying his healing factor and weaponizing him. The camp is nothing more than bait. It helps that the protagonists, Violet and Rich, are actually fairly likeable and relatable compared to every other human character in Avatar’s comics. You end up getting a story of the would-be victims vs. the military vs. the unstoppable killer. It actually has a really good ending too, which will be ruined months later.

Around this time, Avatar released the Jason X Special by Pulido and Sebastian Fiumara. Yes, a Jason X comic. The movie is already a few years old at this point and I don’t think anyone cared about it enough to clamor for more Jason X in any form, but here we are. As it turns out, when Uber Jason was blasted to a lake on Earth Two at the end of the movie, he was really back on the original Earth. A woman named Kristen, one of the few remaining humans on the planet, tricked the ship into turning back to Earth for the sake of getting her hands on Uber Jason.

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Kristen’s boyfriend Neil is dying and she needs some Voorhees DNA to potentially cure him. Even though she is able to capture Uber Jason with some nanites, you can imagine that this is a bad idea. It becomes a big, confusing mess, where Pamela Voorhees goes from being a voice in Jason’s head to being a machine ghost able to control all the nanites, leading to lots of human-like androids being slaughtered. Uber Jason is shot into space, where he stumbles across a party-based space ship.

That leads us right into the two-parter Jason vs. Jason X by Mike Wolfer. Really? Is that even a contest? That’s like having the regular version of the Hulk fight a super-pissed off Hulk. The story of this one is more contrived than even the beginning of Jason Takes Manhattan. So there’s a piece of Jason’s skull and hockey mask from the Jason X movie that wasn’t part of the regeneration process that created Uber Jason. When that ship was blown up, the chunk of skull floated around in space until – TOTAL COINCIDENCE – it now drifts into the very party ship where Uber Jason is currently slaughtering everyone. The ship’s cloning machine builds a new body out of dead victims and Jason is reborn! Fully clothed too, which I suppose I shouldn’t be complaining about. I can live my entire life without seeing his hockey stick.

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It takes the whole first issue for the two Jasons to meet up and the entire second issue is them fighting while anyone who crosses paths with the brawl gets chopped up. The fight brings them to Earth Two, where, big surprise, Uber Jason wins. He tears Jason’s brain out, shoves it into his own brain, and reminisces about his mother. He’s also chilling out in the woods near a lake, so even though the Jason X Special changed up the movie’s ending, this comic puts it back the way the writers found it. You know, just in case they were to ever make another Jason X movie.

The last book from Avatar is Friday the 13th: Fearbook by Mike Wolfer and Sebastian Fiumara. It’s a direct follow-up to Bloodbath and is especially pointless. It’s basically about killing off anyone who survived Bloodbath without any real drama. Sure, it makes sense to have the government people behind the events of that story taken out, but there’s no actual plot. Jason just effortlessly kills everyone for two dozen pages.

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Also, the art is really bad in the sequential sense. It seems to go from point A to C from panel to panel with no sensical movement. For instance, in Bloodbath, they were able to stop Jason by freezing him. The only reason he was able to escape was Violet’s doing. Makes 100% perfect sense that they’d just try that again, right?

And now Jason is able to shrug it off completely to the point that there’s no sign of him being frozen one panel later. What’s up with that?

The ending suffers from the same problem. Violet is backed up to a window and Jason is coming. She decides to take her chances and makes a leap of faith, hoping the trees will break her fall. She jumps and the perspective makes it look like she’s at least ten feet away from the window. Suddenly, Jason has her by the neck and drags her back in.

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Anyway, Jason would then move on to the next publisher, Wildstorm, in 2007. Wildstorm mainly gave us a bunch of two-parters, but started it with a six-issue miniseries simply called Friday the 13th by Justin Gray, Jimmy Palmiotti, Adam Archer, and Peter Guzman.

For the most part, it’s a basic, by-the-numbers Friday the 13th story in comic form, just handled competently. They’re reopening Camp Crystal Lake again. A handful of teens are brought in to clean up the cabins. Sex and drugs and beer are had. Jason shows up and starts killing people. Same old shit.

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At least the cast of victims isn’t so bad. They aren’t great, but they at least have more personality and dimension than the characters in the Avatar Press comics, easy as that is to do. The drawback is that for the sake of conflict, they’re almost all over-the-top in terms of being assholes. Like there’s a nerdy hippy guy who looks to be potentially psychotic and everyone shits on him for zero reason. For one of the characters it makes sense, since it’s established that she’s had to put up with his company for years and she’s a terrible person, but everyone else snaps at him like he’s Donnie from Big Lebowski.

The comic plays up the supernatural aspects of Friday the 13th more than just Jason surviving taking a machete to the neck. Not only do they establish that the lake is haunted by the ghosts of a hundred murdered children, but the final issue even explains that the area is literally cursed due to some settlers murdering a Native American shaman.

Otherwise, it’s nothing special.

Marc Andreyko and Shawn Moll give us Pamela’s Tale, a two-parter where Pamela Voorhees explains her life story to a camp counselor while giving her a ride to Camp Crystal Lake. Naturally, she also murders her, but still keeps telling the story, mainly about raising Jason and how she’s been out to kill anyone she feels is responsible for his death.

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We also see Jason’s father depicted as a drunken wife-beater and massive dude (he had to inherit it from somewhere) who is killed because Pamela’s afraid that if she tells him she’s pregnant, he’ll beat her so badly that she’ll have a miscarriage. Oh, and she’s also whispering conversations with “Jason” much like she does at the end of the first movie.

Jason’s birth defects are explained both between his father’s treatment of his mother and the fact that Pamela is constantly in places filled with cigarette smoke. It hits comedic levels once we see the doctor smoking a cigarette while delivering the baby. That’s dark as hell but I had to laugh.