artzysyam - Tumblr blog

[artzysyam]

leaked asta vs lucius fight

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Jason is trying his best to make him look vicious ; )'

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I just wanted to draw Jason in Deathstroke armour

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some drawings I forgot to post

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Jason perhaps?

here he is

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i need to be honest with you guys, i've been doing comic storyboards for my ideas a lot (a few years ago), here's one of them. i may be cringe but whatever

they had a fight but it's gonna be okay

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Adorable jason moments </3

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thinking about the panels where robin jason is mostly made of cape!!! precious baby. tiny bean. absolutely adorable. ✨️✨️✨️

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"I'm more. I'm whole."

[artzysyam]

I'll Knit My Flesh Into Yours To Patch Up Your Wounds

Excerpt from Part 2 of Blue: Mallow

Part 1: Recap: Renegade Dick rescues Jason Todd from Arkham Asylum

Part 2: Summary: At his safe-house, Dick starts to patch his brother back together

Word count: ~700

Warnings: Nudity, Scars, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Non-consensual Body Modification

“........—Christ”

The asshole seems surprised, or just delighted at the twisted patchwork of skin his back is, or maybe—

There’s a hand in his hair, slowly carding through it, and his brain stalls.

He waits for it to wrench, to pull. To hurt.

The voice speaks instead, soft.

(dangerous)

“—not—oing to—hurt you—”

Laughter bubbles up his throat, it tastes of bile. This is not the first time they've pulled this gag.

A savior comes in and tells him everything's fine. He believes it. The act ends when they're at the threshold of the stupid cell. Then he's on the floor bruised and beaten.

It's a reliable joke. Never grows old.

He's not falling for this good samaritan bullshit this time.

But the hand doesn’t stop and his traitorous body tries to curl into it.

He tries to recall, but nothing comes up. There was pain. Everywhere. His arms. His back. The whip licking his back —leaving fiery agony. Laughter and jeers as he begged them to stop.

He must've nodded off. There had been sounds of what he could’ve sworn were gunshots if he hadn’t had the prior experience of hallucinating fucked-up shit every single day.

He must've passed out. The man must’ve grabbed him then.

“Jason—”

He doesn't get to hear the rest because the name bounces inside his head. How does he know?

He starts struggling anew, trying to get away from whoever his new captor is. He knows now it’s no longer just a two-bit thug. He’s fucked because whoever can bother with his identity probably has a personal vendetta, he has so, so many enemies.

He manages to push himself off the bed and his ass lands on the hardwood floor.

The voice is saying something but it might as well all be white noise for what’s about to come. He tries to kick at the floor in a pathetic attempt to put distance between himself and his captor as if that’ll stop them.

But his stupid ankle gives away and he just curls into a pathetic ball. He’s openly sobbing now. He’s fucked, he’s so fucked.

The man's going to burn him again and start picking chunks off his back and drill his good foot too and—

The sounds tear out of his throat, uncontrollably. Loud, ugly sobs. Hurting his mal-formed ribs with the force—but he can't stop

The room goes in and out of focus as he tries to blink away the tears. His bony arms twitch uselessly at his sides, the floor is dimly lit by the lights, in what he can see now is the hallway—

Hallway

It startles him enough for him to shut up.

He's not in his cell.

With a jolt, he realizes there’s a hand in his hair again, gently carding through it, nails gently scratching against his scalp and then slowly trailing through the ends, tugging lightly at them, and for a while that’s all that is. Fingers on his scalp, scratching and sometimes ruffling, tracing the puckered skin of his scars but never digging into his bruises. He grows tired of waiting for them to wrench his head back, for the blow to land. But the hand just keeps going. It's nice.

It's been so long since touch was anything but violation and hurt. It burns and he basks in it greedily.

Every now and then the fingers seem to reach a snag, and a hysterical part of his brain supplies shamefully that he can’t remember the last time he was allowed to clean up.

”—’m sorry—not going to hurt you—safe—"

The voice pauses.

Fear rears Its ugly head again— but he knows that if the asshole wanted to hurt him, he would’ve done it already ten times over. He wasn’t even restrained when he lost his shit. It's the long game then, where he gets a bit of respite if he pretends he doesn't know what he has to pay after.

The hand hasn't left his hair the entire time.

(Title inspired from "My Heart Has Claws" by Fatima Aamer Bilal)

[artzysyam]

Barbara and Dick, sketches in hades style because i need to combine the hyperfixations

I want to maybe do actual greek designs for them someday…

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DC, let them reunite i mean itttt

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born and raised gothamite combating kon's influence on tim's taste buds

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2019 doodle that I realize I never posted here because it’s from an au that I don’t want to explain to people lmfao

Suffice to say, Jason has years of resentment @ Dick 😔

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“Ghost” Selkie wip 🦭👻