#Arkham inmate Jason

[satoshy12]

Arkham psychiatrist Jazz and Arkham inmate Jason Todd

It started with Jazz helping the crime Lord Red Hood, and to the surprise of all the new Arkham psychiatrists, Jasmine Fenton was a actually Harleen Quinzel, who was successful. She didn't pull a Harley Quinn. But fixed the crime boss.

And as Jason was released, he was no longer mentally ill and healthy. Which he really was. He left Gotham. Not once looking back.

What Dick/Batman put him into Arkham! He won't return there.

In Amity Park

Jason moved into the Fenton household as Jason Fenton, husband of Jasmine Fenton. Who would have thought he would marry his psychiatrist in Arkham?

Well, he did, and he was no big brother. Jason to Danny and Dani, son-in-law of the mad scientist Jack and Maddie Fenton. And the BBQ champion of the neighborhood of Amity Park.

He retired from being a hero, villain, or crime boss!

[mikakuna]

this is one of the arkham knight audio files where jason kinda breaks down to barbara and it's SO SAD. the way his voice shakes and gets smaller like a child's when talking about what joker did to him gets me so bad :(

[dcxdpdabbles]

Ghost king danny goes on a reincarnation vacation to the dc universe by ClockWork, he ends up as a mortician/coroner and chats up the dead and is super creepy and has to go to Arkham to claim a body there (idk how-) and ends up freaking out the prisoners but also makes some friends and is just all around having a good time and Batman is concerned why this guy just feels weird and why Jason likes him enough to call him a friend

"This is Daniel Fenton." Bruce starts clicking the button on his wrist computer so an image of a young man in his early twenties appears on the hologram. "He is the mortician working at Gotham Funeral Home and Crematorium. Recently, he has been the talk of the underworld for his actions in Arkham."

"Actions?" Tim asks, reading over the files that Bruce had downloaded into their own wrist computers. He pauses at the old-school photo of Daniel Fenton smiling shyly at the camera. Two rows below him is Jason's equally bashful smile when he was fourteen.

Huh.

"A patient was found dead in her room. Daniel went over to claim the body, but while there, he made a few of the inmates uncomfortable." Bruce pulls up a security camera footage of Fenton strolling down the hall, pushing the cart with the body covered by a white sheet.

The way his lips are shaped tells the Bats he whistles even if there is no sound.

It looks normal- even if he seems just a tad too cheerful for picking up a dead person- until he passes by Two-Face's room. The man flipped his quarter and then started shouting at Fenton.

They couldn't make out his words, but whatever the mortician said had Two-face laughing so hard he fell to the ground.

Then, the camera glitched as if there were some kind of interference. They watched it clear up with Fenton walking away and Two-Face sitting on the ground, staring at a wall with a blank expression.

"What happened?" Dick asks.

"It's unclear what Fenton did to him, but Harvey has been unresponsive since. This was three days ago."

"Shit," Steph swears, which pretty much sums up everyone's thoughts.

"Yeah, Danny has that effect on people," Jason speaks up, shrugging his shoulder at the looks he receives. "What? Danny has always been weird, but I doubt he is dangerous."

"You are acquainted with Fenton?" Damian asks, and Jason shrugs again.

"We were in the same graduating class. I spoke to him more after I died and came back, but I wouldn't meet up with him for a drink or anything."

"You don't drink."

"Exactly, Timbos."

Bruce clears his throat. "In any case, I want you all to keep an eye on him."

"B, seriously, the guy is harmless. He cried the other day over a book character's death-"

"How would you know that?" Cass cuts Jason off, a teasing smile on her face even though her eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

"We're in the same book club. Not another word." Jason grunts.

Dick, who has been staring at the class photo that Tim has seen, snaps his figures. "I know him! He's the weird kid who told people he was the reincarnation of the Ghost King on vacation! Claimed he was a powerful afterlife entity. Didn't you get caught with him behind the bleachers, Jason-"

"Shut it Dickface!" Jason screeches face a bright red suddenly. " That was one time, and I was fourteen!"

Bruce's frown is suddenly more profound. "I had forgotten about that particular detention. Jason, are you compromised for this mission?"

"What!? I am not!" The second oldest yelled, balling his hands "In fact, I bet I could get Danny to tell me what he did!"

"Good. Go get that done." Dick waves his hand at him in a dismissive motion. "Don't come back without the little crazy mortician's number."

Tim smiles as Jason explodes, but his eyes never leave Heavy Dent's image on the security camera. There is something about the way his eyes are hazy that set bells off in his head.

He is sure he sees flashes of green on Dent's pupils. He saw similar flashes in a file inside the League of Assassins while searching for Bruce.

It was the warning of ghosts.

Was Fenton's teenage lies not so fatuous after all? He'll have to investigate.

Master Post Link

[vodrae]

Normal quote but told outside of Gotham

Bruce: I think I should be more of a Dick y'know.

Tim: To be a better man I think I need more Dick in me.

Jason: Man, I think we need to raise an altar to Dick.

Barbara: I love Dick so much it's almost hurt.

Talia: Thus said Dick tried to take my husband from me. Now I have a great relationship with Dick.

Damian: We all know Father let the clown live to prove his moral superiority. If Father unleashed his anger, nobody and nothing would be safe. This is his sisyphus task to prove himself everyday he won't let anybody claim his soul. A single life taken would be an absolute defeat and destroy everything he fought for and erased the very blurry line between him and Arkham's inmates.

[dairy-farmer]

Tim is the prosecutor who successfully argues that the Joker should get the death penalty and Jason is completely enthralled by him

!!!!!!

the problem that jason and the other bats face with many of the rogues, not just joker, is that it's hard to change a courts decision that someone is NOT criminally insane. because the things that joker, poison ivy, mad hatter, two face, or any combination of the arkham crew do are very clearly rooted in insanity. who would create a gas just to make people laugh themselves to death if not an insane person? who would make man eating plants if not an insane person?

and so the revolving door of arkham is hard to stop. dangerous inmates are sent there, dangerous inmates escape, cause havoc, kill and traumatize the general population, they're captured, sent back, and wash and repeat.

jason attempting to kill the gotham inmates no matter how much people say they deserve it is opening a huge can of worms. bats running around killing the legally declared mentally ill? not a good look because arkham is the butt of every joke in gotham in its conversation about crime, news anchors love to deride it when complaining about how the city and state spends millions on it. but it DOES work.

not for joker or the other rogues, but they make up less than 1% of the facility's residents. its those that are sent there for a year or so because of the mental breaks they suffer from living in a place like gotham that benefit. arkham's max security inmates are essentially a lost cause, low hope of ever rehabilitating and even if they did their sentences state they they will die in those cinderblock rooms and be buried in arkham's unmarked cemetary. but the minimum security inmates? gotham funnels millions to arkham because its one of the few, if ONLY, well funded sanitariums for psychiatric illness on the entire east coast. arkham's minimum security produces the lowest rate of reoffenders in the state, is a major reason the poor and underinsured are able to recieve quality mental health care at all, and helps make sure that blackgate doesn't become over saturated with people who only committed crimes because of psychiatric issues.

politicians running for reelection use keeping arkham funded as a way to gain and maintain support. because gotham leads the country in rates of violent crime, drug use, and homelessness. all of which are contributing factors to worsened mental health. and in gotham? everyone knows someone or is related to someone who has been or interacted with arkham in some way whether its a six month hold at their facility, a 50 step program, or some other way.

and having people turn on the nightly news and seeing the headline 'gotham inmate killed by red hood'? it's not good. it scares people away from seeking help and makes things worse in the long run.

it's why jason has never gone after any of the arkham crew with intent to permanently put them down. and so joker gets to keep breathing. until tim.

and tim does not have an easy battle to fight because hundreds of lawyers before him have tried. but being able to successfully argue that the joker ISN'T insane and is, in fact, fully aware of his actions and so he no longer qualifies for arkham? it's a hard thing to do. to make the argument that joker is essentially a fraud who has exaggerated and faked mental illness to avoid jail. those who have done so before have personally gained joker's attention and ended up dead during the nest breakout. and those that weren't stll didn't succeed persuading a court because...joker's got a good lawyer.

because it's a mob lawyer and mob lawyers are fucking good. it's why other arkham rogues also successfully plead insanity. the mob knows that if the rogues weren't around batman would be solely focused on them and so they always pick up the tab on legal fees and joker stays in an arkham cell waiting for his next taste of freedom.

but tim is different. tim does not focus on joker, the clown prince of crime. he focuses on something else. jason's not sure how long tim spent on the case, on the lengths he had to go to to track down witnesses, gather statements, find age old security footage that had sat rotting in police stations in the middle of nowhere.

people like joker don't just magically get good at killing, at holding people hostage, at building bombs. however or whenever the joker had gone insane- it wouldn't have magically imbued him with the knowledge to cause chaos the way he had. he had to have learned it somehow.

and tim finds out how. before databases to categorize evidence existed, most police stations just stored samples they found in evidence bags and left them in a storage room until time came to test them against a suspect. but never getting a suspect meant that the evidence just sat unused.

when batman first caught joker the first thing he did was store his blood and dna on the computer to match up with any future crimes. but he hadn't found any past crimes, mostly because the evidence batman could have used was sitting in a police station whose most technologically advanced equipment was a new coffee maker.

people like joker don't appear out of nowhere. and he didn't.

tim finds trails of crime dating back a near decade before "joker" appeared in gotham. only he didn't go by joker. he went by jack napier. some failure, drop out chemistry student that made money by building bombs and stealing chemicals for low brow gangs. murdered security guards, dead gas station cashiers, a high way patrol officer. bodies and crime from philadelphia, to trenton, to atlantic city, and ending in gotham where jack had remained ever since.

joker had been declared legally insane. but jack napier? after getting expelled for trying to steal from the chem lab, one of the university's psychologists had evaluated him and recommend the school press charges. because during their talk it was revealed that jack was no more a slave to impulse than he was. that he'd gone in with clear intent and planning, that he was aware of consequences, and that he was not an individual that could be trusted to remain on campus. the university called the police but by the time they arrived jack had cleared out his dorm.

from there the crime spree was traceable. with eyewitnesses and dna putting him at the scene of where a 17 year old cashier was shot in the face so jack could leave with a full tank of gas and $45.67 in money from the register. the car he was using that matched the description of where a highway patrol was mowed down during a traffic stop. more dead cashiers and dead security guards at chemical supply companies, including one less than 5 miles from jack napier's university that was robbed the same day he was expelled and where a student id had been found at the scene.

it was sloppy work, buckets and mountains of evidence tying jack to all those crimes. it's something a prosecutor could only DREAM of.

and tim had found it. and could use it. because both new jersey and pennsylvania had no statute of limitations on murder.

but there was still one key difference between the two states that swayed tim's decision on where to take the bar exam to get licensed.

it was something that made jason pay very close attention when yet another prosecutor wandered into the gotham courthouse with papers to begin an Interstate extradition for joker from new jersey to pennsylvania.

it was important that joker be tried in pennsylvania.

because unlike new jersey, pennsylvania had the death penalty.

and joker may be legally declared mentally ill, he was not mentally incompetent.

so, if found guilty, the state would kill him. he would die.

he would die and pay for crimes he comitted decades ago under a different name. crimes he probably didn't even consider as 'worth' the joker.

and jason sees how that starts to settle in for him when joker's face twitches as the courts start referring to him as 'mr. napier' and 'jack napier' instead of his preferred title.

barbara had always said calling the rogue gallery by their stupid made up names like joker or mad hatter or poison ivy just further reinforced and encouraged them. but using civilian names always tended to make them all angry or violent so the bats refrained from it.

and yet here jason was in the raftors of the court watching the sweating judge, the clerk, the court reporter, the lawyers, and tim drake hesitantly use joker's real name and then grow more confident and then boldly turning to a furious joker and asking "mr. napier do you understand the proceedings happening here?"

jason's at the courthouse along with the rest of the bats.

when bruce had caught wind of the extradition going through he'd gone quiet and then, in a strange toned voice, told the rest of them they'd be on protection detail at the courthouse and escorting the prison transport until jok- bruce had stopped and then said "jack napier" was in custody at a philadelphia prison.

it's a tense few months. once out of gotham joker doesn't have his connections not with guards or goons and can't stage his usual breakouts. bruce is out of gotham through the entirety of the trial, setting up camp in philly because he wasn't going to be taking any chances.

dick said he thought it was because bruce still didn't quite think it was really going to happen. it's like all of gotham was waiting with bated breath over the outcome of the trial. every update was plastered all over the news and on the radio. a few of gotham's hometown news stations had even begun making the drive to the courthouse to film as much of the proceedings rather than using shots made by other and more local news crews.

in gotham everyone is restless especially the capes. this is a case none of them have had a hand in. and its not like gotham's legal system is fully incompetent it was just that everyone knew things went smoother if the bats were involved. but here not a single one of them had touched decades old murder cases comitted alongside and on a stretch of empty road.

bruce was stepping on more than a few tail feathers, strongarming into someone else's territory. based on what dick said the capes from the philadelphia area were none too happy over his prescense but willing to give him a break given everything.

jason knew more than a few capes were paying close attention and that clark even did frequent checks of joker in his cell on bruce's request.

it's a high stakes situation. if it doesn't work it'll be the biggest disappointment any of them have ever felt. so they try not to get their hopes up.

but still.

[gothamundernightlight]

Incorrect Batfam Quotes

Jason: *has control of the Arkham PA system

Jason: Just a reminder, to all inmates…

Jason: …if you ever feel safe, just remember I’m out there.

[gilbirda]

I'm just a simple guard, man

Part 6 of my Danny is an Arkham Security Guard AU (og tumblr post)

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

There was silence and tension as they watched Batman go through the motions, tying up the unmoving but awake Joker and moving him to somewhere closer to the entrance. Joker was surprisingly responsive and lucid, just mellowed and obedient. Somehow it made it better — if he was a vegetable Jason knew Batman wouldn’t let that go until Danny undid what he had done.

Danny.

The Ghost King.

Jason didn’t know exactly what that meant. Heck, until today he didn’t know that ghosts were kind of a thing. Mythical creatures, he could buy. Apparitions, imprints of conscience that were unavenged — that he could buy too. But a Ghost King implied an organized society with status and a legal organization. A power structure.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that.”

He turned towards the doctor well aware his face showed every emotion.

“The fuck?”

“Did that really happen?” Duke was trying to keep calm, but his eyes were wide open and his hands slightly trembling.

“Yeah?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“But—”

“How the heck—”

“ — how did he do that —”

“ — did he set him on fire!”

“ — and is he even human?”

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

Duke glanced at Alfred, unsure what to make of that statement. He quietly stood up, getting ready to intervene in case Jason decided to get violent; but Alfred held him back with a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Again, he deserves it.”

Tired of craning her neck to look up at him, Jazz stepped back. “He deserves the judgment of the people he’d hurt in the past — something my brother and I can promise you will happen.” Given what they saw in the camera feeds, nobody doubted the siblings could ensure it. “But I’m not going to tolerate that my patient spends his last years alive being unnecessarily abused.”

“I told you—”

“What do you think,” she interrupted Jason, her gaze cold and her body tense, “will happen if someone dies full of rage? If in their last moments they wish they could enact vengeance on those that harmed them?” She narrowed her eyes, knowing her words were hitting something in him. “What do you think will happen to the Joker’s soul if he’s abused and tortured at Arkham, and probably killed, after he crosses the Veil?”

“I—”

“A huge pain in the ass, it’s what will happen.”

The tense silence could be cut with a knife. Duke couldn’t understand how Jazz not only managed to stare down the six foot something tank that Jason was, but she also commanded the attention and respect. He was a newcomer to the place and he had done more than enough crazy stuff during his time in a gang; but he still struggled with openly challenging Jason and Cass. And Tim, but that was when the vigilante fell into his weird mumbling-in-the-dark episodes.

“I’m taking you there.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the garage section of the cave. Jazz yanked her arm free and stopped to cross her arms.

“I can walk on my own.”

Jason bristled, opened his mouth to continue their fight, but apparently that was when Alfred had enough.

“If you want to get there in time,” his voice was neutral, controlled, and his face wore his signature arched eyebrow, “I'd recommend leaving right now.”

His tone was final.

Jazz and Jason looked at each other, frozen under the certified Alfred glare. They nodded and walked quickly towards where Jason’s signature red bike was parked.

***

Arkham Asylum was a mess when the duo arrived — police cars flooded the entrance, and the Batmobile stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the red and blue lights flashing around.

Jazz cursed under her breath. She would have preferred to not turn the situation into a circus.

They managed to walk through the sea of cops and civilians looking in the compound from the metal gates. Funny enough, the few guards blocking the way didn’t move to stop them once both glared at them at the same time.

Jazz made a beeline at the Director chatting animatedly with Batman. Black Bat was standing a bit back with Red Robin, probably discussing what just happened with Danny, but the Arkham doctor didn’t care about them.

“I demand I see my patient.” Jazz didn’t beat around the bush.

The Director blinked and slowly looked away from Batman, as if he couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to interrupt this moment. “Miss Fenton—”

“Doctor.” She corrected him.

The man cleared his throat, throwing a nervous glance at the silent Dark Knight.

“Doctor Fenton,” the word was spit like it was a curse, “your shift doesn’t start until eight.”

“But the Joker is my patient and I know he’s in there.” She gestured at the looming Asylum with her hand. “After such a traumatic event I need to see him.”

Someone coughed a laugh behind the Director. At least the man had the decency of hiding a smile.

“The Joker is not going anywhere, Miss— Doctor.” He added when she glared at him. “You can schedule a session tomorrow. That is, if your patient is up for conversation.” With that, the man deemed their conversation over and turned back to Batman. “Once again, thank you so much, Batman. I’m not going to ask how you did it this time, but we will certainly appreciate the results.”

Jason was as happy as everyone else that Joker wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but the way this bastard was treating Jasmine was outright criminal. He squared up for a fight and tried to step forward, but a cold hand on his forearm stopped him. Jazz moved her eyebrows up and her eyes went over his body before she looked back towards the police. Several new vehicles joined the party — all the Gotham news channels were here to record the event.

And he wasn’t wearing his suit. Right.

He nodded and remained where he was, but made a gesture towards where the Director was waxing poetry about how good Batman was for their city and how much the city owed him.

Do you want me to beat him up for you? He wanted to ask.

Jazz chuckled, hiding her smile behind her hand. She shook her head and patted his arm a few times.

“Thanks,” she whispered, “but not today.”

He didn’t know how serious she was. This was the same person who pulled a gun at Red Hood and five seconds later forced him into a therapy session. The same lunatic that was excited about having the whole bat flock in her apartment so she could question them.

For the first time since the alarm sounded about Joker’s escape, Jason let himself relax a little bit. Jazz was crazy enough to take on Arkham’s finest and leave victorious.

“Director Kallwick,” her voice was pure steel, “I’m afraid it’s imperative I see my patient after such a traumatic—”

“I think there’s something you are not understanding, Miss Fenton.”

“And what is it?” She crossed her arms.

The Director raised an eyebrow, now fully facing her. It didn’t escape Jason how the man squared his shoulders to look bigger and overpower Jazz. He had seen that behavior way too many times, in many different situations — and he didn’t like it when men like the Director used it against people that couldn't fight back, specially women.

He glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge how much the old man would flip if he intervened anyway. He trusted Jazz, but he really didn’t like the Director right now.

“I’m positive that after today’s… development,” he smiled, “things at Arkham will definitely change. For the best, of course.” He raised an eyebrow. “Starting with streamlining our staff and making sure we count on experienced doctors to treat the patients that really need it.”

Was he implying…?

Jazz hummed, regarding the man with as much contempt as she allowed herself to show. “I know you don’t like me, Mr. Kallwick. You never did. I know you hired me because you needed cannon fodder to sacrifice and keep the Joker entertained.” She smiled. “I’m young, but I’m not stupid. And I know men like you — weak, scared, and cowardly.”

“Hey there young—”

“I know you’d rather let your staff die than develop better and healthier outlets for patient’s destructive tendencies.” She lifted a hand and walked closer, poking the man’s chest. “I know that you look the other way when guards and doctors mentally and physically abuse inmates because you actually think they deserve it.” She poked him again.

“I don’t—” He went to grab her hand.

She moved away from him so quickly and so smoothly that it looked like a dance step.

She smiled. It wasn’t nice. “And I know all about what you’ve been doing with the funds and donations.”

Even in the middle of the noise from the crowd at the gates, you could hear the man loudly swallow.

“I know about the embezzling and the bribes and the interesting filing mistakes and convenient registration mishaps, Mr. Kallwick.” Her eyes slowly turned greener. It was subtle, but you could see that her usual teal color suddenly looked greener than blue. A trick of the lights, you could think, but the bats knew better. “I know you don’t care how or why the Joker is unresponsive, but I do; and if you want me to stay in my lane I highly recommend you stay in yours.”

The man processed her words, the thoughts clear in his eyes. He was probably thinking how she could have found out, or who told her, or how was he going to silence her better.

Jason saw the switch to the later thought as clear as day.

Bruce saw it too.

Before the man said or did anything else, the tall and quiet shadow of Batman placed himself behind Jazz, one hand on her shoulder as an obvious sign of his support. The other two bats placed themselves on the sides of the Arkham doctor, arms crossed, looking down at the man who was realizing too late the mistake he made.

***

“Are you still mad?”

“Hm.”

“You sound like the old man.”

Jazz glared at him, violently stabbing her ice cream cup and breaking her plastic spoon.

“You may need to deal with those anger issues. Have you thought about going to therapy?” He said with a bright smile.

She stood up, not caring about attracting attention. Who was going to pay attention to them, Jason didn’t know. It was way early in the morning — or late at night, it depends on how you see it — and Jazz had demanded they go to the closest ice cream place that was open.

Luckily he knew a place, because of course only in Gotham someone would be crazy enough to have an ice cream shop open at this hour.

“Some vigilantes, and some rogues, really like ice cream. It is an untapped market.” The man running the place said when asked, shrugging like it was obvious.

Jazz sat back down, now with a new spoon, and continued eating her sweet monstrosity of layered chocolate and dulce de leche.

“If you are this mad I highly recommend you take it with Bruce. I’m sure he will be very understanding and accept your feedback.”

She kicked him in the shins, rolling her eyes at his sarcasm.

“Whatever you say, mister Daddy Issues.”

It was his turn to kick her, but she was expecting the movement and moved away before he made contact. She smirked, taking another bite of her ice cream with a smug smile on her face.

God, he hated older siblings and their knowing smiles.

He prepared to kick her again..

“Don’t even try,” a new voice said, the person taking the empty chair on their little table. “Jazz is like a ninja when she really wants to.”

Jason wanted to differ and explain he had trained with literal ninjas, but the speed at which she whipped a gun on him not that long ago came to his mind. Was it a liminal thing? Or a Jasmine thing? Maybe a Fenton thing?

“Hey.”

“Hey back at you.” Danny sighed, taking Jazz’s ice cream cup and biting directly from the top layer. “That bad, huh?”

Jason bit his simple chocolate cone, watching the siblings talk.

“She’s mad because B scary dog privileged his way into making the Arkham Director submit and it undermined Jazz’s authority. She did a neat speech and everything.” He shook his head. “All wasted.”

She huffed and stole her ice cream back. “I didn’t need his support.”

“I know you don’t.” Danny glanced at Jason. “But it’s better if you have Batman’s backup, yes?”

Jazz ignored him.

Jason took the chance to look at Danny, trying to find anything that was different about the young man. He still had the scene back with Joker burned in his mind.

King of the Ghosts.

He would have never guessed, given the scrawny and sleep deprived raccoon of a man sitting next to him. He was still wearing the same shirt and under the fluorescent lights of the ice cream shop, it was easier to see the scars on his arms and hands — and the ones peeking from under his collar.

“Spit it out.”

“Huh?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You have questions. Ask.”

“I don’t—” He tried to deny it, but thought better about it. Jason bit his ice cream and cleared his throat. “I want to ask about —”

“Of course you want to ask about what happened.”

A soft thump! came from under the table, and given Danny’s glare at Jazz then she probably kicked him for the sass.

“What do you want to know?”

“Why are you being so forthcoming?”

“I’m feeling charitable today.” Another kick from under the table. “Ok, ok! No need for violence.” He sighed. “Jazz’s right. This is not my territory. If we want to stay, we have to play nice with you guys.”

The way he said it, and the way he made a face when he said it, told Jason that Danny was really struggling with trusting the bats with the information. Trust issues he could understand — one wasn’t in their line of work without being betrayed or hurt enough to warrant these issues.

No. It was something deeper.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

There were many questions burning in his mind and he didn’t know how long they had. “Why… Gotham? Why Arkham? Why a guard?”

“You just wasted your time man. You already know the answer for that.” He pointed at his sister, who nodded in agreement. “I followed her.”

“And I came here because I was interested in the rogues.” She added, licking her spoon clean.

Jason shook his head. “I meant — why is the King of the Ghosts… just… here?” He lowered his voice, glancing at the ice cream man. The man was half asleep on the counter and clearly not listening. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Danny responded with a dry laugh. “I have no interest in being the king of anything.”

“But?”

He looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable.

Jason glanced at Jazz, but she was glaring at the table.

“What happened?” He poked the siblings, trying to be soft. It was obviously a touchy subject, and whatever happened was painful enough that they’ve been avoiding any mention of their past before Gotham like the plague.

“It was… It happened a few years ago. I defeated the previous Ghost King, but nothing happened for a while. I thought… I thought things had calmed down since ghosts stopped attacking my town so often. And then, after I graduated highschool, the Observants started harassing me about taking the throne.”

“Did they hurt you?” Jason didn’t know what these “Observants” were, but he could guess from context.

Danny shook his head, stealing Jazz’s ice cream again. “They were fucking annoying, but they couldn’t touch me. As the Prince, I was technically their superior and untouchable.” He bit the cold treat and chewed. Somehow Jason wasn’t surprised Danny never got a brain freeze. “It was a few more years of avoiding them and trying to keep peace in town, as well as trying to get to know the Infinite Realms.” He chuckled again. “I even considered, for a moment, that being King wasn’t even that bad.

“It was a pretty normal day when it happened. I went to the mall with my friends. Sam, she — She had a fight with her parents and went there to cool down and cheer her up. The ghosts came first,” he pushed the ice cream back to his sister, and avoided Jason’s eyes, “but nothing was out of the ordinary. We fought. I defeated them. More and more kept coming, faster than I — than we could contain them.”

“I was away at college, but I later learned that it was a massive all out attack on just Danny.” Jazz placed a hand on Danny’s. “It was a coup attempt.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know that so many people were against me being King, and all that time they were planning the attack, and if I just paid a little more attention… If I wasn’t so—”

Another kick under the table. Danny cleared his throat and tried again.

“The GIW came as well. Things went from bad to worse, and by the end of the day it was an all out war between us, the ghosts doing a coup and the GIW. With our parents at the head of the attack.”

Jason frowned. “But you guys knew they worked with the GIW.”

Jazz gave him a warning look. “We knew they collaborated and consulted for them. We knew about the patent weapons.”

“But we didn’t know that they’d lead an attack on me.”

Danny did a brief pause to breathe, and stole more ice cream from his sister. She just pushed the cup towards him, apparently done with the treat.

Jason followed where the siblings were going. “They knew you’d be at the mall. That… That Phantom would be at the mall.” Danny looked up, his tired eyes confirming his thoughts. “They knew.”

It wasn’t a question.

Jazz nodded anyway. “We don’t know how long they did, but the truth is they knew about Danny. And went for him anyway.”

Minutes ticked by. Jason and Danny made quick work of their ice creams, lost in thought. Jazz checked her phone, frowned, and typed a few messages before putting it away.

“People died.”

Jason blinked at the non sequitur. Danny swallowed the last of the ice cream and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Neighbors, friends, people I knew. That day. They were fine and then they were dead.”

Guilt. It was clear as day.

“Is not your—”

“Don’t.” He cut him off. “Please.”

Jason nodded and decided to move on. “So you won the fight?”

“Barely. The ghosts were either captured by the GIW or retreated when they became outnumbered. Tucker and Sam managed to mess up with the idiots in white’s machines and weapons long enough for us to retreat. But we knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“We packed what we could and I hid at Sam’s, with the excuse that I would help her while she recovered — she broke her arm at the fight. We were a hundred percent sure if… if Jack and Maddie actually knew I was Phantom or not, but just in case.”

“I stayed. They didn’t target me so we were positive they didn’t know about me being liminal, so I stayed home.”

The vigilante frowned at Jazz. “What for?”

“Someone had to monitor them to see what they knew exactly. I also hid away any weapon they could potentially use against Danny.” She shrugged. “Not that it actually helped, because neither came back home in the weeks after the incident.”

“They were at the GIW base.” Danny crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat. The young man looked tired. “Because of course there was work to do with the captured ghosts.”

Jason hummed. “So they’ve been working on experimentation since then?”

Jazz shook her head. “We were telling the truth when we said they weren’t involved in that, at least not by the time we left Amity Park. Back then they were more involved in investigation on ghost containment and weapons research.”

He nodded, and turned back to Danny. “And the coup?”

The young man cursed under his breath. “Dealt with them.”

Jason waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What—”

“Listen, man.” He slapped the table and stood up. “That doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. I dealt with it. I accepted the damn crown and then told everybody to fuck off. And they have done that so far.” He breathed in, breathed out. “I’m nobody’s king, I’m just a simple guard now, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

With that, Danny walked away and left Jazz and Jason simmer in the tense silence. He looked at her, trying to gauge if he had said the wrong thing, but Jazz appeared apologetic.

“Before you ask — I don’t know either. Nobody does. He just… after we took down the GIW base, he took the captured ghosts back to the Realms. He came back two days later, hurt and barely coherent, and never spoke of what happened there. To anybody.” Not even me, the hurt statement was implied. “He was… changed. He didn’t say what happened but from what we could piece together it was bad, very bad.”

A myriad of possibilities crossed Jason’s mind. How bad is “very bad”? How much did Danny stir things up at the Realms that he had remained unbothered ever since? He tried to map the scars that he saw, and grimaced at the idea of two straight days of fighting after doing a raid to the GIW base.

Danny was done. With being a hero. With fighting. With trying to do the right thing.

What was even the “right thing” here? Going back to being the King of a dimension that doesn’t want him and he doesn’t want in return? Give it up, and risk someone worse taking control of so much power? Destroying the GIW? Going after their own parents?

He thought about the Joker. He asked Jazz when she was back from checking on the clown, and she willingly shared some details about his state. Jason never felt sorry for the fucker, but gained a new appreciation for Danny and his abilities.

The power to take someone’s soul and seal it inside their bodies — what else could he do? What other otherworldly and potentially devastating powers did he have at his disposal?

What else was he choosing not to face? What else was he running away from?

He stood up and followed Danny outside, finding him standing in the cold morning rain of Gotham. It wasn’t pouring, but it was easy to get soaking wet if you underestimated it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Both ignored the door when Jazz quietly followed them out of the ice cream shop.

“Good.” The younger man looked up at the gray sky, maybe looking for the sun. Water droplets fell down his face, and he welcomed them with a relieved, albeit tiny, smile. “Because I don’t have anything else to say.”

Jason rolled his eyes. What a drama queen.

He glanced at Jazz, who was shaking her head. “Whatever you say, edgelord.”

She pulled Danny to her chest for a hug, which he only protested with a tiny grumble. Jason chuckled before he was pulled in too by a surprisingly strong grip.

“If I have to suffer sisterly hugs then so do you.”

Jazz giggled but welcomed the addition to her arms, not caring that she could barely hold both of them and her arms fell short. She squeezed them harder towards her chest, humming in delight.

Great, she was a hugger. Jason really didn’t need another Grayson in his life.

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

BACK TO THE ARCHIVE

BACK TO DANNY PHANTOM ARCHIVE

Just a normal link in case you liked this and want to support me :)

[anime-potato-san]

Why do people think Arkham! Jason is whiny compared to the other Jasons? To copy and paste what I wrote somewhere else to prove my boy is, in fact, not whiny and just extremely broken and angry, understandably.

He went after the Joker alone after he and Harley killed kindergartners and sewed their body parts together, and the Joker caught him. Jason spent over a year in the abandoned wing in Arkham Asylum, the Joker, with Harley helping, tortured him physically, branding him with the letter J on his cheek, psychologically, mentally breaking him down, with other inmates beating him, including Batman’s rouge’s gallery. Pretty much in every way imaginable, Jason was put through it.

He was lead to believe Batman had abandoned and replaced him, and then the Joker filmed the broken boy being “killed” by him and sent it to Batman, breaking him and causing him to stop looking for Jason out of grief. The Joker continued to torture Jason afterwards until the beginning of Arkham Asylum.

So yeah, I think he deserves a break. He also does redeem himself and become Red Hood, and then he acts more like himself, happier and not crushed by all the pain and hate. (I love that man.)

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

All of the semi-decent inmates panic.

They all freak the fuck out and bust out in a mass breakout trying to find the baby.

Like the bats are ready for the worst only to come find the rouges in the most strange of team ups.

Like Bane and Grundy are like busting walls and causing havoc and just when you think it can’t get Any weirder

Bane: Little one! Though your games can be humorous against the others it is counterproductive to hide from your allies!

Jason on the roof listening in: yo Oracle you seeing this shit?

Part of

[battymommastuff]

The Accident (Pt. 2)

Batmom x Batfamily Prompt: At least you did something...

TW: VERY DARK!!!!

Part 1

"She isn't making any progress. We've tried everything from electroshock therapy to simply giving her a journal to write her feelings." 

You could hear your personal therapist talking to your husband...well ex husband by now. Your marriage died the day he put you in this damn place. What place? None other than Arkham Asylum. At first he could live with what you did, he understood what you did. Everyone understood why you did it, but what happened after...he couldn't live with it. 

Bruce watched as his wife shut down. You became a shell of what you once were. The warm, welcoming mother that everyone knew you to be died. Something cold, and sinister was left in her place. The Gotham criminals began to fear you more than Batman himself. Batman held back...he pulled his punches. You...you didn't. You couldn't. This life, the scum of Gotham took your son away from you. How could Bruce just sit there and be okay with it? 

Everything came to a boiling point when he walked into the manor with his newest sidekick, Tim Drake...

"Y/N, this is Tim Drake. He will be assisting us in our...work." Bruce said and rested a hand on the young man's shoulder. Instead of a warm greeting or a smile that one usually got when meeting Y/N Wayne, Tim got a stone cold glare. 

"Jason's grave isn't even covered in grass, and you're already replacing him?" You growled as you stood from your seat on the couch. Tim flinched at your tone, and moved back a bit. He heard such good things about you. This wasn't how he was expecting things to go. 

"Good job Bruce, get another kid...let's see how long he lasts before he's in the grave too." You spat before storming off. That night, you chose to go on patrol alone. While Bruce and Tim were doing their own thing, you were spending your night alone. As you sat perched on a ledge, watching the city that you've grown to hate, all you could think of was Tim. How could Bruce just move on so quickly? You weren't surprised. He spent most of that night scolding you and lecturing you for nearly killing the Joker. Now the bastard was in a coma, and you wished he was dead. 

The sound of a woman screaming knocked you from your thoughts, and you looked down seeing the said woman blocking her young child from an attacker. You don't know what happened at that moment, but something snapped. You weren't going to let another mother's heart be broken, or the child's. No more families were going to be broken because of scum like this. You blacked out again, and this time you came to be pinned to the brick wall by Batman. Robin was hovering over the man you'd just beaten. He pressed two fingers to his neck then looked at Batman. Robin shook his head, and then looked at you. Instead of horror, or remorse...you smirked, "At least I did something." You whispered to your husband. 

Now here you were, wasting away in the cells of Arkham. Eating food that was stale, and cold. It made you miss Alfred's cooking. Several inmates tried to gang up on you, and quickly learned why that was a bad idea. 

"The doctors are beginning to fear her. She's got a rage inside of her that can't be tamed. Whatever set her off...doesn't seem to want to fade away." Your therapist looked over at you, chained to the table that you were forced to sit at. Bruce clenched his jaw as he looked at you. You'd lost weight, and your face was sunken in. You looked half dead. 

"Then we'll find something new. I'm not giving up on her. If you can't help her, then I'll have to find someone who can." Bruce snapped. He knew that keeping you here would kill you in the end. You weren't made for a place like this. He wanted you home with him and Alfred. It was where you belonged. 

Little did he know that the solution to his problem was going to be solved...

It would be several weeks later, close to when visiting hours would end. You were sitting in your cell with your back facing the door when you heard it open. 

"Mom?"

That voice made your entire body go cold. Yes the tone was deeper, and a little gravely, but you knew that voice. The Gotham accent...it couldn't be anyone else. Slowly your head turned, and you nearly fainted when your eyes met the ones staring back at you...

To be continued...

(I know most wanted a pt.2 with Jason's reaction, but I got a little carried away lol. I promise I will make a pt.3 with his reaction!)

[a-chicken-with-adhd]

Okay whump fic idea, anyone is free to use as inspo.

Bruce did kill Joker, especially after stopping him from blowing up the UN and killing him when killing the Joker wouldn't cause a war. He kills Joker, not as Batman, but as Bruce Wayne because it was the father mourning a child and not a knight mourning its apprentice.

Bruce is taken to jail (this is very undercover knowledge as to not cause mass panic), Jason revives in his grave, Barbara still becomes paralyzed.

Dick is left with having to manage Gotham, Blüdhaven, Wayne Industries, The Teen Titans, part-timing at the Justice League, and also working as a cop.

Tim still connects the dots and confronts Dick Grayson on overloading himself, he still becomes Robin helping Dick while in Gotham(if more on the investigation and finding evidence and solving cases to give to commissioner Gordan than stopping Bane and supervillians)

Jason still becomes the RedHood, (for more whump purposes) Talia notices that there is something different with Batman but is unable to uncover why.

There's a riot at the Jail Bruce is in and at the same time there's a breakout. Jason is training around the world.

Bruce unfortunately passes due to multiple inmates gaining access to an officers guns and shooting randomly. This is kept quiet. All online rumors shut down by Oracle, not letting the new out until Alfred and Dick are ready.

Dick, Alfred, Barbara and Tim are in mourning. Trying to get the company together before letting the news break to the public. Dick is upset, knowing that he will have to hold onto the cowls mantle for longer. Angry and confused with his emotions about Bruce, his Father, his dad, dying while also feeling regret and shame that they left on a bad note, yelling at each other with him screaming that he hated Bruce.

Barbara is mourning the second Father figure she had, missing the calls she would get on Wednesdays from Bruce who listened to her rants and encouraged her to keep trying physical therapy.

Tim is sad he never got to know Bruce as anything more than his idol, but is determined to become a master at detective work to lessen the burden on Dick. So Dick grayson can go back to being Nightwing full time.

Alfred is mourning his child, his son, the little boy he raised that grew into a phenomenally kind-hearted, if too stoic and emotionally scared, strong man.

Jason, still thinks Bruce is alive. No one told him, he couldn't find this information. Jason still harbors hate that Bruce didn't do anything. There's whispers that Joker is retired or dead, or just hitting the ground after killing a powerful billionaire/trillionaires son. But no confirmations.

Jokers death by the hands of playboy billionaire philanthropist Brucie Wayne, the kind-hearted if a bit dim-witted flirtatious himbo Twunk, is a well kept secret.

Jason makes his debut as Red Hood, harboring Hate for Bruce. Trying to really rub it in Batman’s face that he knows who is under the mask. Angry that Bruce didn't avenge him. Angry that his killer could still be out there! Wandering the streets!

Its night that Alfred decides to let the news break to the world. Jason is out, being chased by Batman, they get into a scuffle, the Red Hood manages to pin down Batman while ontop of a building right across from a jumbo advertisment screen, Tim was working on coms and surveillance with Oracle. Then the news hit Gotham.

Jason was yelling at Batman, angrily yelling about how he has to live in fear that the joker could still be alive, live in degrading self worth that him dying wasnt what crossed the line for his dad, yelling that ignoring what Joker had done just to put him in Arkham where he'd just break out was just sentencinh Gothamites to death, ripping off his helmet screaming at Batman with hot angry tears in his eyes, pulling off Batman’s cowl only to be met with his older Brother's face.

The screen flashes from whatever advertisment to breaking news covering the hidden story of Bruce Wayne, who had killed Joker in revenge for murdering his son, had recently died in a recent jail outbreak from inmates causing a riot getting ahold of a gun and shooting other inmates.

The new anchor draws comparisons to Bruce Wayne's Parents and how they died in a random act of gun violence.

Jason, dealing with too much, runs away. Ignoring the way his whole body felt like it was breaking at the news that his dad had avenged him, had killed the Joker, but it had gotten him killed, shot in the head. Ignoring the calls of his older brother who just found out that Jason is alive.

[ailithnight]

A fic based on this prompt by @chaoswarfare that I had originally put in the reblogs, but decided to move to its own post since I've got some ideas to continue it. No promises on this ever being a completed fic, but I'll try.

A King in Arkham

Listless eyes trace the cracks in the ceiling; their owner blinking slowly from his place, lying nearly motionless on a thin mattress supported by a metal shelf held to the wall by thick black chains. His face is blank, not sad nor angry nor despairing like so many others in this cold and lonesome place. No, his expression is empty, as though there is simply nothing to feel.

Bruises and scratches and even a couple very deep cuts litter a small body. Were anyone watching, they'd see a new one appear as if by magic across a gaunt cheek. Even as blood begins weeping from the slash, not a single emotion flits across the face. Not even a flinch.

Tomorrow, doctors will assume the patient cut himself. They will search his cell, again, and find no weapon. They will search his body and find not so much as a fingernail capable of creating the mark. They will check the security feed and find, as always, that the moment of injury glitches; one second no cut, the next fresh blood. They will try to force the patient to admit self harm, but he will remain silent.

When the door to his cell swings open with a buzz and a clang, echoed by every other cell in the building, the blank faced boy with dull eyes doesn't move. It's the 6th time this month, and the 13th since arriving 3 months ago.

When the sounds of screams and rioting grate on sensitive ears, he merely sighs, the first hint of feeling flashing across his face in the form of a minute second of frustration before blankness returns. When a pair of escaping patients rush past, one stopping to ask if he's coming, he remains unresponsive.

"Leave him! Kid never tries to escape. He's to far gone."

The kid in question feels his eyebrow twitch. He's not 'gone' anywhere, thank you very much. There's just no point. Nowhere to go. No one to help him; to understand that he's not crazy, just haunted. At least, no one who won't turn him into a monster. A horrible, world destroying, viscious monster.

Besides, Arkham's not too bad. At least it isn't a GIW lab. And his rogues have even started showing up less and less since he was sent here! Though maybe that has less to do with Arkham or Gotham and more to do with the kid's utter refusal to even defend himself.

"Now come on before Bats start showing up and put this place on lockdown."

A black form with a red head drops from above, just barely within the kid's peripheral vision. A brief moment of recognition and even something adjacent to interest flickers in blue eyes.

"Bats like me, perchance?"

.

Red Hood was assisting containment with an Arkham breakout. There had been a lot of them in the last few months and Batman was getting grey hairs trying to figure out why. No one in particular was even trying to break out. No one could be pinned for the inciting incident. Just randomly, at any point in the day, the automatic locks would spazz out and everyone would be released.

So the big bad Bat had called all hands on deck, requesting at least one vigilante be at or near Arkham at all times, hoping to at least keep most of the big fish in their cages while they tried to figure out what the hell was going on. And Jason had graciously agreed to help. So here he was, at 3am on a Saturday morning; assisting guards in keep inmates corralled; keeping any eye out for any maximum security escapees.

With none spotted so far, and the people below him literally admitting that they're giving up hope when the Bats arrive, Jason figured he might as well see if a bit of scare tactic will convince them to go back to bed willingly.

"Bats like me, perchance?" The would be escapees in front of him startle and whip around.

"Red Hood?"

"The one and only." Jason shifts to not so subtlely place a hand on his weapons. "Now why don't you 2 just go on back to your rooms and we can forget this little infraction. I won't even tell the guards to write up a discipline slip." The two inmates eye him, then his guns, then each other warily. Finally, they both raise their hands in surrender and begin walking back to their cells.

Jason permits himself a quiet chuckle, much to low to be picked up by the modulator. As he turns back to grapple up to his bird's eye view in the rafters, his eyes catch sight of the inmate who apparently doesn't try to escape. For just a moment, green swamps his vision as Red Hood registers the sight in front of him.

He almost steps in to the cell before a harsh buzz sounds and cell doors clang shut again. An intercom crackles to life announcing the effective lockdown, instructing guards to begin escorting patients back to their cells, cataloging each attempted escapee for future disciplinary measures.

Batman's voice sounds out over comms.

Not a single inmate made it past the main gate. Good job Hood.

Jason seethes for moment longer in front of the cell before biting out his question on the main channel.

What the hell is a kid doing in Arkham!?

A strangled sound makes it through the feed and Nightwing responds, strained.

What?

A KID! Can't be older than 15. In cell... 26B. Looking rather roughed up, I might add. Since why does Arkham even accept minors?

Oracle responds.

Pulling records right now.

Jason eyes the kid, who seems to be entirely unfazed by Red Hood discussing his imprisonment 8 feet away from him. Actually, unfazed is the wrong word. Apathetic is better. Entirely emotionless. Green threatens Jason's vision again as he ponders the potential reasons for the look of resigned desolation on a face so young.

Looks like he was transferred over from a psych ward in Illinois 3 months ago. Ward of the State. File says self-destructive behavior. Apparently he picks up unexplainable injuries and claims ghosts gave them to him.

That still doesn't explain why they sent him to Arkham!

Batman's voice filters back in.

Hood, pull out.

Jason has to force himself to keep his voice down.

WHAT!? I'M NOT LEAVING A KID HERE!

It's almost 4am. Red Robin is on route to relieve you.

I AM NOT LEAVING A 15 YEAR OLD IN ARKHAM!

We will be investigating this further.

15! YOU KNOW, THE SAME AGE I WAS WHEN YOU LET ME DIE IN THAT FUCKING WAREHOUSE.

Jason almost regrets the statement as he here's Dick's stuttered breath. But it seems the kid might have heard him and something about the statement seems to catch his attention.

He actually turns his head to look quizzically at Jason. The expression only lasts a couple seconds before slipping back into blank neutrality as he turns back to the ceiling.

Batman's voice grinds in his ears, an edge in his tone telling Jason that if he doesn't listen, the Bat himself will come pull Jason out.

Hood, his transfer coincides with the start of these break outs. He may be involved. We will be investigating this further, very thoroughly. If he's clean, we will be getting him out of there. But for now I need you to pull out. File your report.

The tone softens.

And get some rest.

[wolfjackle-creates]

I don't know if your taking requests at the moment, but can I just put this idea in your head? Spectra takes over Arkham Asylum. She sneaks past Danny somehow and sets up shop. Batfam ends up going to Amity Park as it's the only other location that she's recorded to have worked at, and they can't access the data from their computers for some reason. >:3

I'm probably not gonna be adding more fics to my WIP list if I can help it (curse my poor impulse control), but I'm absolutely up for talking prompts and brainstorming how I'd handle them!

I'd probably start the fic long before anyone goes to Amity. ^.^

Spectra is a psychiatrist in Arkham. The guards love her because all the patients/inmates come out of her sessions docile and cowed. In the entire history of the asylum, the patients have never been so well behaved.

Then Harley gets dragged before her. Even she is not immune to Spectra's power. But Harley has enough psychiatric training to know something is up. That the things Spectra is spewing are total BS. That her words alone shouldn't have the affect they are.

She sends words to Pamela Isley. Letting her know to lay low and avoid capture at all costs while this woman is still at Arkham. That something bad is going on. Maybe she even asks for help. Pamela then contacts Jason and/or Dick.

Jason/Dick contacts Tim or Barbara to look up information on the mysterious psychiatrist. Only...they can't find anything. It's like she doesn't exist. Even the records detailing her hiring are odd. (She overshadowed a few people to forge some of the paperwork, but missed a few steps.)

All they can find for sure is an obituary from decades ago and a short 2-3 week stint at a high school in Illinois.

Dual plot lines: Poison Ivy trying to break Harley out of Arkham while 2-3 of the bats go to Amity to find information on Spectra.

@stealingyourbones have you seen any other prompts/fics with Spectra at Arkham?

[arguablysomaya]

im ngl it’s kinda funny that jason being put in arkham is such a point of fandom angst and people just can’t believe dick would do such a thing when in the comics it was more like:

jason: pleeeeeaaaaasssseeeeee put me in a normal prison, i pinky swear cross my heart i won’t murder all the other inmates this time 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

dick: mmmmmfine

jason:

[swamiiyasssss]

Dragonfly In Red

Jason Todd + Vigilante!OfficeSiren!Reader

This Hood would never have thought he'd fell in love with a goddamn suit. Tall, dark and gorgeous, she was the wildest of his dreams. A dragonfly amongst the birds, the bats, standing out too much for his own liking.

The suit's got secrets; He intends to take it all for his own.

Dragonfly In Red by yasswami Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Jason Todd/Reader, Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd/Original Character(s), minor Luke Fox/Reader Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Titus | Damian Wayne's Dog, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Joker (DCU), Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Lucius Fox, Luke Fox, Arkham Asylum Inmates, Arkham Asylum Staff (DCU), Riddler (Batman 1966), Jim Gordon Additional Tags: Slow To Update, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Episode: s01e09 Enemies and Lovers, Lazy Sex, Hate Sex, NSFW, Smut, Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Vigilantism, Vigilante Reader, Blood and Violence, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Blood Kink, Blood As Lube, Recreational Drug Use, Bondage and Discipline, Chair Bondage, Non-Sexual Bondage, Body Horror, Body Worship, Corporate core, Office Sex, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Restraints, Angry Sex, Angry Kissing, Fake Character Death, Survivor Guilt, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Office SIREN reader, suits & bandages, whump, can u notice i got a thing for blood aha

Jason bares his teeth. “ I find a dragonfly, ensnared in my trap.”

Red Hood/You. Dark & Explicit Themes. Mind the Tags.

[silicon-puppy-pudding]

Danny totally kills the Joker

I have a very specific Eldritch!Danny in my head that, even though I've tried drawing before, I can't really get out of my head if you get what I mean

And as a dead on main shipper and a lover of angst I have him do shit that causes problems

Like kill the Joker in a blind rage after an Arkham break out

So it's like this, after a breakout that obviously requires all hands on deck, everyone is eventually re-cuffed and put back in their cells (including the Joker).

Red Hood and Phantom are doing some clean up in the Narrows and it's hard on them. Seeing some kids whose parents died cuz of the clown nearly broke Hood.

Phantom, now well known as Hood's right hand, picks up some of the burden. Helping more then he normally does with some displaced kids and families cuz he can feel Hood breaking down.

It hurts..

After the night/day/whatever is over, they head back home to their appartment and Jason just breaks. Danny's been helping with the pit rage so without all the extra anger crowding him it just sort of crumbles into pain and hurt.

Danny can't stand it

He can't stand to see Jason like this

Jason was his rock, his shoulder to cry on, his partner in crime. He had always been there for Danny when he had panic attacks and couldn't breathe cuz he saw some guy walking down the street in a white suit. Was always telling him it was going to be okay. Had told him things were gonna be alright. And now the roles had switched. Danny comforted Jason for who knows how long. Held him tight till he calmed down and was able to fall asleep. Once Danny was sure Jason would be okay he slipped out of the appartment...

Phantom would not stand for this.

Phantom flew over to Arkham with the intent to "have a little chat" with the Joker. Just ruf him up a bit. Scare him shitless so he'd rethink ever braking out again.

He didn't mean to bash the guys skull in.

He didn't even realize he'd been beating a flattened pound of meat and skull till Batman showed up and pulled him from his mind.

He looked over to where he'd heard his name and saw Batman and Nightwing standing by the door of the cell. Both were wrapped in bandages, some obviously stained in blood from the damage they endured during the breakout.

Dick covered his mouth and stared in horror at the sight of Danny, who he'd been lovingly calling his future brother-in-law for the past 2 months, covered in the Jokers blood. He looked like a staticky, distorted shadow. Three(3) sets of arm all ending with white clawed hands; one pair around the Jokers barely intact neck, another clutching the inmate uniforms chest, the last frozen mid punch. Bruce, having just the slightest ecto-connection from the pit, fought off the screaming in his chest to run and leave the King be.

Bruce slowly approached Phantom. Phantom on the other hand, slowly realized what he'd just done and was starting to panic.

He'd just killed a man

Sure he fucking deserved it but he just....let himself go. Let himself indulge in his rage, be consumed by it. And now the Batman was here to stop him. Would he send him back to the Realms? Would he lock him up, away from anyone he could hurt? Away from Jason?

Phantom flinches when Bruce touches his shoulder. And continues to try and back away when Bruce calls for someone to get a hold of Jason on the coms. What's he doing? Isn't he going to be thrown into a cell? He's dangerous! He could do this again if he wasn't dealt with! Why is Bruce calling for Jason? Does he want to show him the monster he let into his life? Does he want Jason to be the one to do it?

Bruce is talking.

Not Batman, but Bruce, is saying something to him, his name.

Not Phantom

"Danny? Danny!?"

Phantom disappears and isn't seen for two(2) days

Nightwing is the one to find him. In some warehouse, slamming his head into a support beam, yelling at himself that he can't become Dan.

I don't know how to continue this. It was supposed to have a nice hurt/comfort ending but I'm not a fic writer and I don't know how to do that. So feel free to use this as a prompt or something 👻👉🏾👈🏾

Edit: figured I'd add one of the Danny doodles I did a while back cuz it fits. I already posted it a while ago but it feels appropriate here too.