I loved the first commission so much, I couldn't resist ordering another one as a parallel of sorts! This lovely drawing is by @toktopus-art. It's based on a scene from Chapter 26 of my vamp!Eddie/Steve-gets-Vecna'd fic, laughing at the broken glass.
Scene excerpt is below, and the AO3 link to the fic is on my pinned post.
Steve wished they could just stay like this, but there were only two more songs left on this A-side.
“Hey, can I see your bracelet?” Eddie asked. If not for his all-too-casual tone, Steve wouldn’t have suspected anything.
“Pulling out all the stops, huh?” Steve asked wryly. Eddie flashed a shameless grin at him. Chuckling, Steve tugged his sleeve down before lifting up his wrist. To his pleasant surprise, the glow-in-the-dark effect was actually noticeable. Eddie took a moment to share in the admiration of the bracelet before grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging it down.
“This is better, yeah?” Eddie asked.
“Huh?” Steve turned to look at him again, but Eddie was staring straight up at the sky.
“Than just sitting in your car in the freezing cold by yourself, I mean.”
“I had Freddie Mercury with me.”
“I’m serious.” Eddie finally turned his head to face Steve again. His expression certainly matched his words. Steve couldn’t help but tense up at the shift in tone, though he was swiftly eased by the way Eddie’s thumb brushed across his knuckles.
“I...hate that you even have to ask.” Steve managed to smile, even though Eddie frowned at that. “Yeah, this is better.”
One song left. It wasn’t fair.
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Inspired by DC's new horror story design.
Because I kiiiinda don't vibe with trauma being made into something hideous and terrifying. It's one thing for Jason to take those symbols of trauma for himself, and another thing for other people to look and go "Bad Wrong Scary"
tl;dr GIVE HIM A HUG INSTEAD
(Of course, I have no idea how the actual story would go lol. This is based on that one(1) pic of character design alone.)
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Trigger Warning: blades, mild torture, injuries, and what amounts to suicidal thoughts and actions (he lives at the end but he does need a hell of a lot of therapy)
Tim shudders, as best he can while bleeding and bruised and broken.
The Red Hood is above him, mechanical voice melding into the raspy deeper tones of an Older Jason Todd. His voice is hollow and cruel as he digs his blade into Tim’s flesh. It hurts. But, Tim thinks dazedly, having Robin, Tim’s Robin, hating Tim hurts worse.
“Wow, Replacement, no last words for the person you stole everything away from?”
Jason’s mocking him.
“Okay.”
“What’s that, Replacement?”
Tim is so incredibly tired. And the blade held to his neck is starting to look like comfort. Tim thinks-
“My last words. You- You want to hear it?”
His hero’s face tilts, green eyes sparking something deep within Tim’s memory. But he’s so tired.
“Sure, let’s see what kind of recruitment pitch you’ve got for me, Replacement.”
Cruel. So cruel. Mocking him with false warmth. But false warmth is better than the coldness of Drake manor, the coldness of Bruce’s grieving form or Dick’s smile, sometimes when he thinks Tim’s not looking.
Ah, Tim knew it. His Robin will always be better than any other heroes, even if the false warmth makes his heart hurt worse than the broken ribs he’s now sporting. That Hood is pressing a knee down on to keep him immobile. Not that Tim could move anywhere considering both of his legs are broken. Tim wonders what it is about him that makes it impossible for people to muster up warmth towards.
“Do you know why… why heroes are so… so loved?” He wheezes out. He doesn’t wait for a response from Hood. “It’s because… they choose good- they choose to better the world- to save people, even if… even if they weren’t saved themselves. No matter how much- the obstacles, there’s always, an obstacle. But they try anyways.” Tim has to wrap this up. He’s losing coherency. “It’s why… it’s why this is okay. You… you’re choosing to save… to save Gotham from the Joker. Ev’n if you weren’t saved yourself. You’re not… good. You kill.”
Red Hood- Jason, snarls. Tim, blinking slowly, admires the man’s green eyes. “That’s fucking right-”
“But, you can be. Y’re helping.” And because this is important, because Tim has an alter set up to mourn Jason, “You were my hero,” Tim says, and Jason stops short, expression blanking. “So. I’ll help- help remove an obstacle so… so you can keep helping. Helping people like… like me. Or, not like me. Something.”
With that, Tim summons the rest of his strength and presses his neck towards the blade, starting the process to slit his own throat.
Jason flings the knife away, expression crumbling in horror as he stares down at the child he just tortured.
And as Tim’s voice fades, as blood spills out of his neck, as Tim gives him time to retrieve the knife, Jason breaks.
Oh, Tim thinks. His eyes weren’t green. They’re supposed to be blue.
——
Jason sits beside the medical cot, the steady beeping of the heart monitor grounding him as he held two fingers on the kid’s- oh god, he’s a fucking kid, Todd, you monster- pulse.
Jason will grovel when Tim wakes up. Because he turned into the kid’s Joker and Willis and if there’s anything Jason won’t ever allow himself to turn into, it’d be those two. He crossed a line. If Tim wants him to rip his liver out and present it to him, Jason thinks he’d do it on the spot.
Fuck. He fucked up.
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