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#Arkhams intern
ghost-bxrd · 2 months
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Prompt:
It’s not that Jason forgot, per se.
But between smuggling a toddler out of the League of Assassins, trekking halfway across the world, and finding a suitable hiding place that’s also child friendly… well, it kind of slipped his mind that he’s supposed to be… dead.
Something that comes back to bite him in the ass when he takes Dami out for some ice cream and just so happens to run into non other than Brucie-fucking-Wayne
#look I’ve found a new fave trope and it’s Brucie Wayne having to keep up his act while internally LOSING HIS SHIT#Jason isn’t very into the whole revenge thing here#his mind is 85 parts ‘keep Dami safe’ 5 parts ‘kill joker asap’ and 10 parts ‘avoid bats at any cost’#Jason doesn’t know who Damian’s father is#dealer’s choice if Jason establishes himself as Dami’s dad or older brother#his build certainly makes him look old enough#if you don’t look at his baby face lol#Jason runs into Brucie and goes straight into survival mode#Damian who is very observant for a toddler immediately clocks Brucie as THREAT based on Jason’s reaction#Brucie blue screens and desperately tries not to lose Jason in the crowd#jason is absolutely trying to lose Brucie in the crowd#while clutching Damian like his life depends on it#for all he knows it does#the visceral terror that your pseudo dad will take away your little brother/baby#Bruce who just wants to know if he’s hallucinating again: W A I T#jason who is terrified of being put in Arkham for killing people: no FUCKING WAY#hm maybe Jason plays the ‘I’m not Jason’ game again#it’s not gonna hold for long#but Bruce absolutely thinks that Damian is Jason’s bio child for a while and he’s on the WARPATH#Jason was sixteen when he died and never showed any interest in dating so literally every red flag is waving in brucie’s mind simultaneousl#or maybe Jason manages to get away and all Brucie is left with is the memory of his supposedly dead son#running away from him#and clutching a tiny kid#prompts#jason todd#batfamily#Damian wayne#batdad#brucie wayne
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morverenmaybewrites · 3 months
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Domestic Arkham!Jason Todd Headcanons
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Y’all ever think about the inherent tragedy of Arkham!Jason craving something as simple as domesticity? 
How he craves the comfort of home-cooked meals, but can’t actually eat anything he hasn’t prepared himself. Because during his time in Joker’s captivity, almost everything he was served was either poisoned or rotten, and now every time he eats, it’s like he’s expecting the burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.
Can you imagine the frustration he must feel at his inability to share a simple meal with you? 
The sudden clench in his gut when he realizes that he wasn’t there to watch you prepare the food, and despite the fact that he trusts you, he can’t help that familiar dread rising in the back of his throat. 
Jason tries, for you, he tries. 
But there are times, more often than not, when he feels the phantom burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth–and his body reacts before his mind does. 
And suddenly he’s hunched over the sink or the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food, and it’s almost like he never left Arkham Asylum.
Can you imagine the absolute burning jealousy he feels whenever his family interacts with you with an ease he can only dream of? 
Maybe it’s a movie night, during one of those rare times when Gotham City didn’t need saving, and there’s Tim and Dick and Barbara piled on the couch. And you fit so well with them–a tangle of limbs and careless laughter at a dumb joke Dick made–that it’s Jason who feels like an outsider. 
Jason sits apart from all of you, the only person to pick an armchair instead of the couch, because every time he tries to sit close to someone, all he can think is whether they’re close enough to see his scars.
The table is piled high with snacks, more than the five of you can realistically eat in an evening. There’s popcorn and pizza, mozzarella sticks and pretzels, several bars of chocolate that can only be found in Bludhaven, the air is thick with the smell of grease and cheese dust. 
And it’s almost like being a teenager again. Before that night and the Joker and everything else that followed. 
It’s almost like being a teenager again, dizzy with the good fortune of being adopted by Bruce fucking Wayne, watching some dumb flick with his siblings when he was supposed to be training. Ordering takeout food and laughing along with Dick at Alfred’s visible disappointment as they stuff their faces. 
It’s almost like being a teenager again, but not quite. 
Jason watches the four of you pass around a bowl of popcorn, arguing about which genre of movie to start with. But when Barbara tries to hand it to him, he feels a sudden clot of heat in his chest, and he’s already shaking his head before he even knows why. 
And he realizes, he’s afraid. 
He doesn’t know who made the food or what restaurant it was ordered from, and he is sure if he asks, no one would be able to give him all of the names of people who handled it. 
The burn of poison and the taste of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.
Poisoned cake and rotting rats. The writhing of pale white maggots against bone and glistening meat and gristle.
He doesn’t touch anything for the rest of the evening.
Can you imagine how scared he is? 
Jason is so acutely, painfully aware of how exhausting it is to be with him. To be with someone you can’t even share a simple meal with. 
And he wonders how long it will be before you get tired of him.
Bruce, after all, had left after he had seen the twisted thing Jason had become. 
And if his own father couldn’t even stomach his presence–
And suddenly he’s hunched over again, over the sink or against the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food. 
And it really is like he never left Arkham Asylum after all.
This is what he thinks, when he finally collapses on the tiles of your bathroom floor, cold sweat pouring down his face. Your presence hovering over him like a ghost, a thousand apologies pouring from your throat. 
But it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s him. 
It’s this awful thing in the back of his head, always expecting the next threat, the next injury, the next sick game the Joker has come up with. 
It’s the fact that his days with the Joker had left him so twisted and strange that he can no longer fit into a normal life, even when he wants to. 
And this is what he thinks, when you catch the way he is not watching the movie at all. But instead he is looking at his family’s faces, his chest pulsing with a jealousy so fierce it might as well have been his heartbeat.
Jason wishes–oh, how he wishes–it was that easy, that simple for him. 
You disentangle yourself from his siblings–Dick had already fallen asleep, head lolling heavily on your shoulder, to pad your way to him. You sink down onto the armchair to share it with him, practically on top of him, and he marvels at the way your heat dispels the chill that has crept over him. 
Your hands are small compared to his, but they are just big enough that when you lay them atop of his, he does not have to think about whether you can see the scars. 
This is what he thinks, on days like these. It is something he always thinks, a small voice in the back of his head that is never silenced.  
He doesn't deserve you. 
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Thanks to @red--pirate for the idea!
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satoshy12 · 6 months
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Intern Jazz in Arkham
It had been an easy thing for her to send her application to Arkham Asylum and get her summer internship of 6 weeks there. It would help her understand psychology more, too. Danny was very against the idea of his big sister going to Gotham! But she got him to say yes after she said she would be protected. She has the Fenton Peeler and similar, Danny wasn't sure about it and asked a few ghosts to take care of her. In return, they can go to the human world without him attacking them. + Jazz liked it in Amity Park; the true few patients and workers looked as if the Director was crazy to allow Jazz, a 16-year-old girl, to intern in Arkham. But all is well; till her last day, all was well. Then it was a massive breakout of Scarecrow and Joker. Harley made her way to Ivy to protect the young girl! Harley was 100% against her being even near Arkham! They saw her in a room in armor with a massive, flaming knight who had his sword out.
Jazz:" Fright! Release Joker and Mr. Crane now! I am not sure if they can take your horror dimension."
And now Jazz has to get Fighty to release both when people around her are totally okay with letting Joker and Scarecrow be in that dimension! This is not okay!
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the fact that Lee worked in Arkham and it didn't break her, didn't make her less kind, more cruel, etc., etc., proves once again (for me) that she is the most morally strong and golden hearted character in Gotham
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doctorcranes-ask · 9 months
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What are you doing?
@dr-dlightfull
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I-I thought I was helping- I didn’t-
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Stop- please!- I didn’t mean to-
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[OOC TAGS: @askarkhamasylumintern @the-ratcl0wn ]
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dr-dlightfull · 3 months
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Hi, sorry I haven't been in contact with you in a while. Things got a bit heated for me. They still are.
Hope everything will get better. Don't contact my old place or old roomate, that's not safe anymore, not that I thought you would do it, but still.
-G.
Wow G I uh wow I haven't heard of you in forever! Those are defenitelly some news to get back to...
Are you okay? Do you need help???
@askarkhamasylumintern
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askarkhamasylumintern · 5 months
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Ooc post : G's first design ??
So today I realized my pencil case full of 3ds games was nowhere to be found, it was not found, I am in emotional distress.
I organised some stuff in an attempt to find them, it didn't work but I did find some early sketches of G.
Note : Since the creation of this blog, I have been drawing G in an artstyle that's "reserved" to their character.
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Here's G in their early days !
I didn't know much about them back then and didn't know which artstyle I wanted for them.
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the-ratcl0wn · 9 months
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The room's door opens with a swift of wind, G enters the room, in their crutches, a backpack containing a tupperware full of cookies on their back.
"This hospital is so hard to navigate with crutches-"
They say with a tired sigh.
- @askarkhamasylumintern
G!
*Squeaker immediately sat up, wincing at the pull of the stitches. It had a wide smile, as the look at their close friend.*
You made it! It’s nice to see you!
*They open their arms for a hug once G gets close enough, prepared to give a harsh warm hug.*
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unrestrainedbalderdash · 10 months
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My brainrotted heart leapt when I saw Riddler wearing his Arkham City outfit in Assault on Arkham
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crimeloyalty-arch · 2 years
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“ first of all,  it’s dr. quinzel now.  second of all,  i’m the only thing standing between you and the electric chair,  @crimeroyalty​,  so i would suggest you consider doing this my way. ”
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her eyes sweep upwards,  locking on the camera recording his every move,  then return to his face.  she tilts her head to the side,  cocking an eyebrow. 
⸻sc.
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krashoutluv · 3 months
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GIVE US MORE ABOUT NSFW AL JAYYY PLSSS
HRHSJSGAHS OKOK!!
NSFW Arkham Knight / Ak!Jason Todd !! <3
detailed smut !!
(wet dream, praise, soft sex 2 somewhat rough sex, not super long, , im so obsessed with his brain)
rq are open :3
‘tis under the cut!! :p
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M’SO EXCITED TO WRITE MORE ABT HIM M’SHAKING AND THROWIFN UP
NGL, i think one of the only reason he would come to terms with liking someone is bc he had a wet dream…
listen,, 99% of his dreams are nightmares, and you just changed his fuckin statistics for the possibility to the 1% chance of him coming in his sleep and being able to rest well after.
he has mixed feeling abt this..
on one hand hes like ‘wow cool i get to sleep well,’ but on the other hands hes like staring at his boxers and hes like ‘but at what cost…’
but oh,, he just knew he was fucked when it first happened and he woke up
after many , many years of overthinking, and his mind not being able to shut up … the thing that made his ass get so quiet was a fuckin’ wet dream
uuhhggrr it was such a good one tooo (hes internally cringing so hard)
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ONE hand in his hair, softly rubbing his scalp, the other massaging his shoulder to the base of his neck. Jason has both hands on your hips. Being so gentle yet passionate with each thrust, fighting back the nastiest sounds begging to leave his mouth. So he starts kissing you, open mouth kissing your jaw to just between where your neck and shoulders connect. The noises you start letting out make his breathing stutter for a second. His kissing gets more passionate, soft sucking at your skin, and he’s feverishly rubbing and grabbing at your hips.
The wet sounds of him fucking you get louder. Poor guy is just barely stopping himself from rutting into you. His strokes were slowly getting more rapid but nonetheless coordinated, hitting that spot that had you loudest. Jason was marginally coherent but he’s still trying his hardest to make you feel good. Your body returning the favor by squeezing him so lovingly and he just cant fight back the soft gasps he lets out in between his strokes. The wet sounds, the lewd noises, the details of your body and skin he felt every time he pushed into you. All of this just because of him, just for him? You babble to him how good he was doing, murmuring how good it feels between moans, and it has him gripping your hips.
JASONS rocking himself roughly into you, but its that ever so loving hand, still gently massaging his neck and scalp. That sensation has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Soft curses leaving his mouth. He buries his face right next to your head and has to grab the bed sheets just for an last attempt to stay composed. But the moaning gets louder, and you don’t stop gently massaging his hair.
So he can’t stop the “mmh, mmh, mmh” ‘s leaving his mouth with every rapid push of himself. He can’t stop the way his hands trail down to your legs to spread you wider for him. Grabbing at your thighs as he fucks himself through.
N’ just as he cums with a breathy gasp, his eyelashes are fluttering and eyes rolling to the back of his head. Letting his body weight press onto you and closing his eyes shut, trying to control his stammered breaths,,
he fuckin’ wakes up..!
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First thought was “what the fuck.”
genuinely startled, he doesn’t freak out bad but he like slowly reaches to touch his pillow.
his mind was so blank, couldn’t tell if it was because of the wet spot on his sweatpants or he was genuinely so stunned.
*hes like scratching his head and looking at his pants.*
hes goes to take a shower and his eyes are so blown out he looks like one of those cat memes
but his mind is soo quiet,,
in my brain at the very back of his mind he’s like ‘whys there so much of it.’ HSIGSISHSISHSIDHS HES COMPLETELY SERIOUS TOO???
he’s taking a shower and his brain, oddly, isn’t foggy, not dissociating, just feels so here.
which is horrible because that means he really has to directly face his feelings
KRILLING MYSELF WHY IS HEART TO HEART PLAYING WHILE I WRITE THIS???
heart to heart, heart to heart, heart to heart <3
Next time he sees you he feels so odd, he knows it a natural thing that can happen.. but it was so
djsksnkdnd
tingling under his skin sensation is yelling at him to leave, and he does.
hes cringing
he likes you…
he cringes harder
ghosts you for awhile
realistically doesn’t want anything like that to happen ANYTIME soon
but is it weird that he kinda wants it to happen at all?
MENTAL GYMNASTICS COMMENCE !!
but when he stops ghosting you for awhile, and comes back to see you still being just as patient as you were every time you saw him before,
arms always open for him, food waiting for him, a sweet smile. and with your own patience, his own patience begins to thin.
Everytime he leaves you its a little harder for him to not come back
that tingly feeling under his skin slowly becomes a craving for just your presence. thats all he wants.
he doesn’t need to fuck you when he just has your eyes on him.
“what you run from is what you end up chasing.”
live footage of arkham knights brain cells falling for u insta reel
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TEEHEE i loved writing this it was so fun, rq/inbox is open !! feedback is always appreciated >:3
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ghostbsuter · 6 months
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Can be read as a continuation of this
.・゜-: ✧ :-
It's been a few weeks, really, since the day he met his biological father.
The oversized hoodie drowned him, a perfect haven while he waits near the entrance to arkham asylum.
The whole week rushed by after the event. His mom, wonderful, black belt, kickass mom had fretted over him the whole time, messaging his therapist not long after and getting an appointment.
His dad had been clingy, giving him bear hugs left and right, it felt nice. Jazz hadn't let him out of her sight for one moment, always searching, always studying.
Man, he loved his family.
"Are you going to visit him?" The gruff voice of Batman asks, and danny shrieks, jumping away as he looks at the vigilante with wide eyes.
"Oh Ancients—! Don't scare me like that!" Danny scolds, hand over his chest and breathing hard.
He can feel the amusement wafting off of Batman. Or something.
Huffing, the child leans against the brickstone pillar holding the gate again.
"No," he ends up answering. "I'm not here to visit... him."
Batman listens quietly, simply standing next to him. He doesn't pressure nor demand anything. If danny thinks more of it, he might get a headache.
"My sister is an intern in Arkham, we're gonna have dinner with Harley and Ivy today." A shrug, and the wind lovingly pushes him.
"Good." The man states, he hesitates a moment before he stretches his arm out towards danny, opening his hand and showcasing the items.
First is a lollipop, famous for being handed over to children after being saved by the bat himself. Second is a pin, in the shape of Batman's signature bat, it had a red button on the other side however.
"It's an emergency alert, in case anything like this happens again." Is quickly explained and Danny takes them, if not a bit tense.
He is unused to the trust the man shows him despite how short their time was spent together. Danny wonders if the bat already snooped around.
"Thanks—"
"Danny!"
His head snaps to the gate opening, brightening up as Jazz runs through and hugs him.
"Jazz!" He eagerly hugs back, thank looks up at her.
"You gotta meet Bat—" He trails off when they turn to the empty spot next to the pair, wind rustling leaves just as he finished. "man..."
Damn batman.
Danny huffs and tugs at Jazz's jacket. "Nevermind then, c'mon let's get a nice present before we visit harley."
Simply bringing her up seems to have Jazz excited. "I still can't believe we're having dinner with THE Dr. Harleen Quinzel!!!"
"And her wife."
"aND THE Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley!!!"
Her enthusiasm is rubbing off on him, he grins, hooking up his arm around hers, and they're skipping towards town, laughing like maniacs.
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redflagshipwriter · 3 days
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Hot Ghouls in Your Area 8
Chapter 8
Masterpost
“You're just now going to campus?” Jazz said. Danny scowled ahead at the sidewalk. Her tone wasn't judgmental so much as mildly surprised. He still hated it. “That's a lot later than usual. Is everything alright?” Danny hunched his shoulders up and consciously reminded himself not to get defensive. He wasn't slacking. He'd gotten home after his class and slept 13 hours. He still felt wiped out.
“Ghost stuff,” he said cryptically. “Ruined my night.” He dodged someone on the sidewalk without thinking about it, used to the crowds by now.
Jazz inhaled sharply into his ear. “They're supposed to leave you alone to focus on your education,” she hissed. “Just so you know, I do have the venomous Fenton electric creep stick-”
“Yeah, I know,” Danny cut her off. She was probably holding it up right now, thumb on the trigger. He couldn't fight off the rueful smile. She had his back, didn't she? Always did. With that in mind… “I think I need help,” he admitted. Oof. Felt bad. Not as bad as failing his classes, though, which was the danger if he got pulled too deep into more Ghost bull honkey.
“Of course!” Jazz enthused. He stepped off the curb and then quick-stepped backwards to avoid getting hit by some asshole running the red light. Danny lifted up his free hand to flip them off as he hung on his heels on the edge of the pavement drop. He dropped lightly back onto the balls of his feet and jogged across the street.
Jazz was still talking, voice clear over the morning meld of honking and running engines. “How about you come over to my place after your classes tonight? My roommate is out for a conference.”
“You just don't want to come to Crime Alley,” Danny accused her. “Even for me, your beloved baby brother.” He dodged a car that was parked on the cross walk and made an ugly face at the driver. “Despite your professed love for crime, when it counts, it's all talk.”
“I don't love crime,” Jazz reiterated with her inhuman patience. She didn't take the bait of his deliberate mischaracterization of her career plans. “But I am exquisitely stabbable." Her tone went lofty with the brag. "So yes, I avoid Crime Alley.”
Danny blew an unimpressed raspberry to show what he thought of that.
He hadn't met anyone in Gotham yet who he thought would really throw Jazz for a loop. She was a 6ft 2 judo black belt, and she was liminally spooky as fuck. “No one would stab you,” he said, making it sound like an insult. His janky ass was more likely to get held up. "But fine, I'll haul my poor broken corpse all the way over there to do you a favor-”
“So I can do you a favor,” Jazz corrected wryly.
“My poor broken corpse,” Danny cut back in, because that was a really relevant factor to him. He put the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned a little. He felt like he'd been in a tumble dryer. Missing a full night of sleep was an insufferable insult to his desperate shoe-string construction of a healthy routine.
“I would so get robbed if I came there,” Jazz argued. “Maybe even kidnapped.” He could all but hear her flip her hair.
He snorted but let her keep her delicate feminine delusions about not being one of the scariest motherfuckers in the crime capital of the country. He wasn't actually worried about her interning at Arkham Asylum. Maybe he'd freaked out a little when she'd moved here, but that wasn't why he was here. No matter what anyone said.
“There's no immediate danger, right?” Jazz checked. “No reason I need to be concerned today?”
“Nah,” Danny reassured her, as the campus came into sight. He had about an hour before class to spend in the lab before his lecture. “It's not that kind of problem.” He felt his face arranged itself into a wry smile. “You might like this one.”
“Oh?” Jazz asked, intrigued. “Do tell.”
“Only after I've sworn you to perfect silence,” Danny shot back instantly. “I mean it, for real, you can't tell a soul living or dead or nonliving or-”
“I think I get it,” she cut him off. Jazz huffed. “As if I can't keep a secret. You think I can't keep secrets? I know the most incredible things that you could never dream up.”
“...Big if true,” Danny snarked, pretending that he wasn't extremely interested.
“You never knew what happened to the Robinsons,” Jazz said airily. “And you never will.”
“...that doesn't bother me at all,” Danny lied. He stopped walking.
“Ahuh,” Jazz said knowingly. “Hey, remember the neon cheese incident?”
Danny gritted his teeth. “Can't say I do,” he said. It was bullshit, and even he knew it wasn't convincing Jazz. He was dying to know the truth. It had been the talk of the town for weeks and was still occasionally featured on unsolved mystery podcasts. He'd gone far enough to ask the Dairy King, but even the dead wouldn't speak on it.
“Have a good day of classes, little brother,” Jazz said sweetly. She ended the call.
He rubbed at his temples. Ancients, she gave him a headache. She was fantastic. She was killing him and absolutely ruining his unlife. He couldn't even beg her for answers about the neon cheese, because if he managed to badger it out of her, it would prove she could be manipulated into telling secrets. That would be a loss anyway. It was more likely that either she didn't know anything or that she knew and her lips would stay sealed: Danny didn't have any to waste his breath.
He did a few calming rounds of breathing, now that he was thinking about it, and then went on with his day a bit invigorated by the familial aggravation.
Danny felt a little better about focusing on class now that he knew he could count on Jazz in his corner. She was the smartest person he knew. She could probably get him divorced by the end of the day. Hell, she probably already had a contingency plan for getting him a divorce. She was so ready for him to have a relationship so that he would have relationship problems to ask her about.
When he finished up on campus, Danny cut across town to pick up takeout food as an offering. He presented it to Jazz as soon as she opened the door, head bowed and food theatrically high.
“Oh, come in,” Jazz said, exasperated. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and bodily pulled him inside. “My neighbors are going to think I'm so weird, Danny!”
“My liege,” he intoned seriously. “I come bearing- ow! Stop hitting my- hey, my face!” Danny wrestled away from the horrible pinching grip his terrible sister had on his cheeks, scowling. “That hurt,” he complained. “Have you ever thought that you're getting caught up in the cycle of violence?”
“I don't lose sleep over it.” Jazz lowered herself delicately onto one of the weird puffs she had instead of chairs and made grabby hands at the takeout. “What did you get me?”
“Coal,” Danny snarked. But he handed over the bag without a fight and plopped himself onto the closest poof thing. He fully laid out and let his head flop past the edge to hang upside down.
“Inversion therapy, so chic,” Jazz said absently.
He considered flipping her off, but his balance was really off in this position and it would be hard to defend himself if she lunged at him. Hell, if she picked up his legs he'd probably tip over onto the floor. Danny dug his heels into the side of the poof in defensive preparation. He kept her in his peripheral vision.
“Oh, Malaysian,” Jazz enthused. “I wanted to have this!” She sounded a little too surprised.
He shot her a thumbs up. Two days ago, she'd sent him a screenshot of a text landing from someone else that had shown most of her screen was the active map app she was using to get to an appointment. The Malaysian restaurant had the star mark that she put on the places that she wanted to try.
He'd gambled that she hadn't gone yet because she hadn't had a late night at work. Jazz only got takeout with company or if she got home too late to cook.
“Cool,” Danny said, because he didn't want his rotten sister to think he cared about her interests. “It was on the way and it smelled good.”
Jazz hummed and put the food on the side table. “So I see.” She folded her fingers in front of her face and peered at him over the steeple. “What happened? What ghost do I need to soup with a fragrant combination of turmeric and saffron?”
“Please don't waste that, ghosts taste fine on their own,” Danny said.
Jazz grimaced. “Ew, Danny,” she enunciated carefully. She paused. “Ew.”
He shrugged and accidentally slipped a little closer to the floor. “Just saying. But actually, no one dead was involved, unless we count-”
“We don't count,” Jazz cut him off, serenely unbothered by his attempts to score empathy points off his death. She was a cold customer.
“Boo,” Danny said, because he knew his brand and respected ghost tradition. “Anyway, Jeremy Waters. Remember -”
“How could I forget,” Jazz muttered. She put her hands on her face.
“Hey,” Danny said, offended that Jeremy got that reaction and he got a big fat impassive nothing no matter how annoying he was.
“What’s Jeremy done?” Jazz sounded exhausted by the concept.
“Well… He uh.” Danny stared at the ceiling. He couldn't look at her directly. “Well. You know how he wants the good favor of the god of the underworld?”
“Yup.” Jazz hit the ‘p’ sound hard.
“He uh, hit the idea that uh. Maybe a Persephone of sorts was just the thing to suck up.”
He heard fabric rustle as Jazz sat up. “He did?”
Wow, she had one of the most fascinating ceilings in the world. Danny stared intently up at a splotch that looked vaguely malign. She ought to get that checked out by an expert before it possessed somebody. “Yeah, so he's been trying to vault people into the Ghost Zone as bridal sacrifices.”
“Ahuh.” Jazz sounded a little bit choked up. She wasn't laughing, so he couldn't complain.
“I had Dani get Vlad look into it-” because Dad or Mom would have been mortifying- “and apparently, he told her the odds of some hack wizard managing to send a living human to the ghost zone was laughable.”
He paused. He couldn't go on.
“And Vlad would know,” Jazz said leadingly.
Danny put a hand over his face. “Yeah, see, the thing is that I'm now very concerned that Vlad might not know.” His words came out muffled.
Jazz was so intent on him. He pretended even harder not to know she was leaning in towards him. “Does- does the ghost king have a bride, Danny?” She somehow managed in a professional tone.
He nodded miserably.
She promptly lost her shit laughing at his misfortune.
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feasibilities · 23 days
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"Perhaps you should have some, clear your head."
Investigative Reports | Jonathan Crane x Journalist!Reader
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Warnings: Non-Con, Drugging, Kidnapping, Dumbification, Bondage, Corruption, Pet Names, Hallucinations, Cockwarming, etc. Author's Note: I finally got around to writing this! This insane post got a lot of hilarious/supportive reactions, so thank you. I hope it really is The Most Disgraceful Fanfiction Ever Made.
“Would you like to see our treatment facility?” Jonathan inquired, smiling faintly.
“Of course. Where is it located?” You said, looking around curiously. 
“The elevator will take us there.” Jonathan replied, guiding you inside. You wondered why he was so eager to show you this “facility”, but it would be good for your article on Arkham Asylum. You also noticed that his hand lingered on your lower back. You made a mental note of the floor being accessible by key only. The door opened to a poorly lit corridor with double doors at the toward the back. A sinking feeling in crept into your gut but you followed behind him anyway. He opened the doors to an underground sweatshop. You saw the faces of some of the criminals who mysteriously avoided being prosecuted. 
“This is where we make the medicine.” Jonathan said. You quickly realized this was a trap. Why would he be willing to show you this if he would let you leave? A feeling of panic clawed at your internal organs but you stayed perfectly still.
“Perhaps you should have some, clear your head...” He said in a restrained tone, swallowing harshly. His icy disposition transformed into that of a monster. You ran for the elevator and frantically pressed the buttons. The doors never closed. You scurried out and ran down the hallway. You ducked into one of the empty holding cells. You saw a white bed with restraints. You hid in the corner behind it and held your breath. Tears rolled down your face as you blamed yourself for taking on this story. 
“Ready or not, here I come.” A ragged, disorienting voice spoke. Your heart dropped as the voice was a complete contrast from the composed one you heard minutes ago. You covered your mouth to muffle any sobs. You heard his footsteps click down the corridor before they stopped in front of the cell you were in. You crouched to make yourself as small as possible. You saw a figure with a burlap mask over his head. 
“Hmm, I wonder where she could’ve run off to.” Jonathan said sarcastically, knowing exactly where you were. Walking to your hiding spot, he stood over you. 
“There you are, princess.” He cooed. He kneeled down and wiped your tears with his thumb. You cringed at his touch and tried to scoot away. He pulled you back and put a white cloth over your mouth and nose. Your struggling was useless. Blackness crept into your vision as you lost consciousness. 
——
You woke up to an unfamiliar bedroom and a throbbing headache. This room was quite different from the dilapidated cell you fell asleep in. You didn’t recognize the pink silk nightie you had on. You were tucked in perfectly as well. You had little to no memory of the night before. Jonathan came in and shut the door behind him. Checking his watch, he smiled to himself. 
“Just in time.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“What happened? My head is killing me.” You inquired, sitting up slightly. 
“You had a fall and hit your head. I know how to make you feel better.” He said softly, pulling the comforter from your body. His smooth hands ran up your thighs. 
“I-I don’t think this will help.” You hesitated. 
“Of course it will.” Jonathan replied. You pushed his hands away and tried to cover yourself once more. 
“I guess I’ll have to tie you up, darling.” He relented, retrieving rope from the nightstand. He removed your nightie and folded it neatly. He tied you in the Shibari style of the Star Harness with your arms bound. He covered your mouth with duct tape. He pulled you to the edge of the bed and bent you over. You cried desperately in hopes that he would stop. 
“Shh. The more you struggle, the longer it lasts.” He hushed you, kissing the back of your head. He took in the sweet smell of your hair. You felt him slide into you slowly, whimpering at his size. His thrusts were slow but deep to the point of causing pain. Your knees buckled with each thrust. 
“Already falling apart, hmm? Isn’t that sweet...” Jonathan purred, speeding up. You looked back at him with teary eyes. Jonathan kissed you over the duct tape on your mouth. Sounds of skin hitting skin filled the room. You clenched around him frenetically, earning cruel spanks from him. His glacial blue eyes bore into yours. A searing pain managed to reach your cervix as his movements grew careless.  The rope he adorned you in began to scrape painfully against your skin. 
“Want me to stop?” He teased. You nodded frantically. He pulled the tape off your mouth painfully. 
“Please, sir.” You begged innocently, beginning to cry once more. 
“Of course, my love.” He whispered, pulling out. He groaned at the sight of your arousal dripping down your legs. He took out a polaroid camera and snapped some pictures of you from behind. You turned away until he violently flipped you over. He put his middle & index fingers in your mouth. 
“Smile, sweet pea.” He mocked, snapping one final picture. Setting the camera aside, he stared down at you with an esurient gaze. You shifted uncomfortably as you were still tied up. His fingertips grazed the tender burgeon of your nipple. Enjoying the sensation, you pushed your chest up into his hand. You mewled sweetly and batted your eyes. 
“Don’t do that…” Jonathan said, barely holding it together. 
“I can’t help it.” You whined, oblivious to his impending breakdown. He was fuming at the effect you had on him. 
“Right.” Jonathan said, standing up and opening a drawer nearby. He grabbed a burlap mask and held it up for you to see. 
“Remember this, hun?” He inquired, taking off his glasses.
“No, what is it?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows. 
Sliding it over his head, you froze in fear. You realized he was the man of your never-ending nightmares. You suddenly saw hallucinations of maggots and spiders crawling from the eye & mouth holes of his mask. The world around you started to spin nauseatingly. You closed your eyes tightly hoping it would all end quickly.
“I knew you would remember me, angel.” He said, speaking in the same ragged voice. He walked to you and untied the rope around your body. He began spreading your legs once more. You scratched, punched, and bit him to no avail. In actuality, your resistance was much weaker than you thought. The sedative he gave you drained you of any kind of physical strength. 
“Help!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, hoping anyone could hear. Jonathan put a firm hand over your mouth and entered you once more. This time, his pace was sadistic and blistering. The headboard banged against the wall. You felt your bones shake with every motion. You screamed behind his hand until you had no voice to scream with. That familiar band of pleasure in your lower half finally broke. Your body convulsed wildly. He enjoyed seeing you unravel. 
“Almost done, stay still.” He sneered, continuing his assault. Your mind was nearly blank from everything that was happening. Jonathan moved his hand from your mouth to your throat as he was getting close. Your fucked-out expression made his heart flutter. Suddenly, hot spurts of seed shot into you. His groans echoed through the bedroom. You felt some relief that it was over. Instead, he laid next to you and slid back in hastily. He wrapped his arms around you to keep you still. Your shaky hand clawed at them. A doused white cloth smothered you once more as you lost consciousness.
“Sweet dreams.” He whispered, holding you close. 
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doctorcranes-ask · 8 months
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I might come back to work soon enough, do you want me to smuggle bring you back something ?
- @askarkhamasylumintern
I would greatly appreciate some new books donated to the library
Mainly because I'm bored of the old selection, but also because I'm tired of Kingor's whining
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terrestrialnoob · 2 years
Text
The Batfam meeting Danny's sister
Bruce: So you said she's a psychiatrist at Arkham?
Danny: Yep! She really likes it there.
Bruce, internally: We should keep an eye on her, maybe offer some self-defense training to help her feel safe while at work, or a panic pager so we know if there's a break-out...
Doorbell: *Rings*
Jazz: *enters the room* *is 6'8, lean muscle, easily catches a vase from five feet away that Jason stumbled into while staring at her*
Jazz: Thanks for having me! I really appreciate you keeping an eye on Danny. Do you need any help preparing for dinner? I know how to kill reanimated food.
Bruce, internally: Must. Resist. Recruiting.
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