#fuck Arkham Asylum all my homies hate Arkham Asylum

[blondefoxmedic]

Playing another Arkham game, collecting the Riddler Trophies

#wanted to play arkham city but game kept crashing #arkham asylum #riddler trophies #why am i like this #i actually love/hate it #fuck joker #all my homies hate joker

[yandere--stuck]

Return to Arkham - Yandere!Joker x Doctor!Reader

"Catch me if you can," The Joker's voice echoed over the intercom. "First one to find me gets a prize!~"

Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, every hair standing on end and every nerve shot as you forced yourself to creep through the hall of the asylum. The adrenaline that flooded your veins practically screamed at you to run, but running meant almost certain death. You'd make too much noise, you'd take a wrong turn in your panic, you'd run straight into the clutches of the blackgate inmates or corrupt guards. Despite every instinct screaming at you to flee as fast as you could, you had to take it slow.

So, you crept through the asylum's dirty, ancient halls. And now, in this moment, your brain taking in everything with increased clarity out of panic, is when it really hit you how awful the set of circumstances were for everyone here. Not just now, during the Joker's mass takeover, but throughout all of Gotham's history. 

The demonization of mental health issues and those afflicted, preventing those who need help from actually getting it because they might be villainized and ostracized. Throwing people - adults, children, criminal or otherwise, into a rundown building built on the conflation of mental illness and crimes and letting them be abused by guards and doctors and even the warden, himself.

Not that that was an excuse for crime, of course. But, isn't that why you were hired in the first place? To replace the older generation of doctors and psychiatrists and breathe new life into the asylum, to treat the inmates better? You had tried. You wanted to make things better.

You had heard of the tales that psychiatrists faced at the hands of The Joker. Murder, stalking, assassinations… And, of course, the case of former Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Still, you tried to reach him.

You looked over his case, looked over his files, listened and re-listened to interview tapes over and over again. Maybe, you could learn from the mistakes others had made. Not so angry as to draw his ire, not so understanding as to allow him to manipulate you, not so neutral that you failed to reach him. A monumental feat, to be sure.

He lied. A lot. But, of course, he did - you expected, as much. You could understand why Ms. Quinzel began to trust him. The Joker didn't look as intimidating as he did on Television or in photos when he was in the required inmate jumpsuit, the bright orange clashing with his stark white skin and dark green locks.

He told you conflicting stories - of a drunken father who beat him and his mother, who took him to the circus- or the ice rink- or the amusement park. A sister who got cut up by the mob, but wasn't he an only child? Or didn't he have a little brother? His wife got pregnant and lost the child- but, he never had a wife… Or he did, and he lost both his wife and their unborn child.

But, no matter the story and no matter the contradictions, you did your best to take him at his word while attempting to tackle the problem - or, at least, tried your hardest to seem like you were taking him at his word. Not enough to allow him to take advantage of you, but just enough to suggest ways to help him improve. Had he tried Cognitive Behavioral Therapy? Perhaps he could try breathing techniques in order to cope with the flashbacks to that night in the Ace Chemicals factory? If he needed reassurance, it would be good to turn to Ms. Quinzel and… His fellow (Friends? Allies?) inmates.

You knew it was unlikely that Joker was taking your advice seriously - or that it would even help, at all. Numerous psychologists before you had already studied Joker's psychological profile and had come to the conclusion that whatever was ailing Joker wasn't found in the DSM, or anyone else struggling with mental health issues. He was a complete anomaly, but that didn't mean you could give up on him. Maybe… Maybe just knowing that someone else cared enough to come in and try to help communicate with him in a way that wasn't violent or demeaning could get through to him, at least a little bit.

You could tell when he had stopped trying to lie in order to trick or anger you. A majority of your sessions had become him goofing around and attempting small talk. He would fiddle around in his chair, switching his sitting positions and even flipping upside down in his seat while the guards tried to keep their trigger fingers in check.

You remembered the last session between you and him before his break out.

"Having fun down there?" You asked, watching the Clown Prince of Crime as he sat upside down. 

His hair brushed against the floor, bubbly giggles leaving his painted lips. His long, lanky body outstretched over the bow back, legs kicking in the air. His arms hooked around two of the legs, his surprising upper body strength holding him down and keeping himself from toppling over.

"Oh, you know I am," Then, quick as a flash, Joker righted himself, spooking the two guards that remained positioned at the door. The clown's hair remained unchanged in his righted position, still smoothed back, save for a stray curl that fell to his forehead. "You should try it some time! There's nothing like blood rushin' directly to your head!"

"I'll consider it," You replied, before adding a faux-whisper. "I'll have to do it off the clock, though, I think the Warden'll get mad if he walks in on me doing it during a session."

"Ugh, Sharpie is such a killjoy. You deserve a raise just for putting up with him," The Joker thought for a moment. "Want me to put in a good word for you?"

You snickered. "I appreciate it, Joker, but there's no need. I get paid enough as it is, and coming in to help my favorite patient is a good bonus."

Another bellow of laughs escaped the clown, Joker hunching forward to rest an elbow on his leg, holding his chin up with a fist. There was a soft look in his eyes, filled with light and adoration. "You know, Doc, you're a real charmer!"

"Am I?"

"Indeedy-doo-da-day!" The Clown beamed, eyes crinkling. "And quite the looker, too! Careful, Doc, you might just steal me…~"

"I'm sure Ms. Quinzel would have something to say about that."

Joker waved the thought off. "Oh, you and half of Gotham already know about her and Pammy. We both know how good it is to share!"

You hadn't expected the conversation to turn so… Personal? Intimate? It was most likely all jokes and ribbings, but the thought of Joker actually flirting with you - attempting to court you, even - made you uncomfortable. It was dangerous, not to mention incredibly wrong and unprofessional. Keeping your relationship as caring doctor and patient with the Joker was incredibly important and you couldn't risk losing the raport you had built.

A nervous laugh escaped you, brows furrowing. Your gaze flicked over to the guards. You swallowed.

"Well, I'm extremely flattered, but," You paused, taking in a shaking breath as you chose your next words. "I'm afraid I'm already taken."

It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. It would nip that little problem in the bud, and he'd move on.

But, your heart sunk as a scowl stretched over The Joker's lips, all glee fleeing his expression and his eyes going dark.

A tension filled the room, so thick you thought you might choke on it, only to be dispersed by the beeping of a timer. The session was over.

The two guards approached Joker, one holding him stoll as the other cuffed him and lifted him to his feet. 

"Well, Doc, I'll see ya next time!" The Joker looked over his shoulder, meeting your eyes.

"See you…"

"Oh! One more thing-" The Joker stilled only to be shoved forward by one of the guards.

"Keep it movin', Clown!" One of the men barked.

The Joker bared his teeth, glaring down at the man. "Hold your horses, Pig." Joker turned back to you, his expression softening. "I have a secret for you…"

Hesitantly, you stepped forward. "Oh?"

"I'm gettin' outta here real soon," He grinned. "It's gonna be a real party!"

"Not on your life, Clown!" The other guard spat, shoving Joker out the door and into the hall.

You followed them into the hall, watching as your patient was roughly escorted away. You called after him. "Please, don't break out, Joker! You're here so we can help you!"

Before he was taken around the corner and disappeared from your view, the Joker called back. "Sweetheart, I think you and I both know that this place can't help anyone!"

—

He had kept his promise. He had broken out.

The moment you got word of his escape, you had spent most of the day cowering in your room, sure he'd break in at any moment. It was actually a relief when you were called back into work, just so you could be far, far away from the city while he was free.

You were so sure he was angry at you. So sure he'd come after you.

He didn't. It wasn't until you checked messages from your friends in the city that you realized what he had done. They all went dark. No replies. No nothing. Pictures of victims on the news that were both familiar and yet… Destroyed beyond recognition. The weight of your words fell heavily on you.

He hadn't come after you. He had gone after whoever he thought might have "taken" You from him.

And what was worse was…

How did he know who you talked to?

—

Creeping through the dark halls of the Asylum, now, you could really see - he was right. You always knew that, in a way, but you were blinded by the thought of fixing this place. The thought that you and people like you could rebuild what was broken and bring Arkham Asylum into the 21st Century. No more torture of patients, no more abuse, no more lobotomies. But, with every crack sealed, more and more reappeared or were discovered to take its place. This wasn't something you could put a band-aid on and call it a day.

Arkham Asylum was built on hatred and fear and prejudice, and it would stay that way. The best thing anyone could do for this place and the people in it was to tear it down. No amount of doctors replaced or modernized treatments or Wayne family funding could undo that, could undo the damage it had done to the people in this city. Generations upon generations who had heard horror stories from the Asylum and decided to fear the inmates instead of the abusive staff. Is it any wonder why mental illnesses went undiagnosed, that so many people went without help, out of fear of people thinking them the next supercriminal?

Maybe… Maybe you could speak out, if you got out of this alive. Convince the mayor or Bruce Wayne or Warden Sharp or whoever the hell was in control of stuff like this to tear the whole place down and reopen a new mental health facility in the city, without the baggage and horrific past of this Asylum. Maybe then, there would be some change.

The halls and floors were so dirty. Water leaking from the pipes and ceilings, damaged floorboards or ceiling panels. Blood gone uncleaned for who knows how long, smeared upon the walls. You always knew there were cracks in the seams, but it only hit you now how many there were.

How could anyone here get better if they were living in a waking nightmare? How many people had this Asylum, this city, failed?

You crept slowly through the halls, walking slow and silent, barely breathing in fear of making a sound. You spotted a side room out of your periphery, one that could be closed with an electronic security gate. You strained your ears and heard… Nothing.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. You'd hide there. You'd hide there until it all blew over and you were safe and Batman took care of everything.

You made a break for it, hustling into the room and-

The hum of electricity sounded as the barrier was activated, making you jump. Your heart pounded in your ribcage. You- you hadn't pressed the switch, hadn't even *seen* it, so how did-

"I knew you'd find me, Doc! You could always see right through me."

No. No, no, no, no-!

Slowly, you turned to face him. Joker. Out of his uniform, in his usual Clown get-up. He looked so much taller without it. So much more dangerous and unpredictable out of the controlled environment of your therapy sessions.

"Joker," You breathed out, surprised you could even find it in you to talk at all, "Please, don't…"

The Clown shushed you, raising his arms up as he slowly approached you. "I know you're scared, dear, but you're safe now, alright?"

You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Too focused on watching him, focusing on every moment. Too scared to fight, too scared to run. All you could do was stand still as a statue.

Your whole body shook as The Clown Prince of Crime rested his hands on your shoulders. Somehow, you found the strength to look up at him, meeting his eyes. They were dilated, bright green eyes drinking you in completely.

"Now, my boys didn't hurt you, did they?" He asked, voice soft. 

You shook your head.

"Good," Then, he pulled you forward against his chest, arms curling around you in a tight embrace. Your body seized up as you were captured in his hold. "If they had hurt a single hair on your head, I would've flayed them alive and used their intestines as streamers."

If he had said something more, you couldn't hear it over the sound of blood pulsing in your ears. He was holding you. The Joker was holding you in his arms, your body pressed up against him. You could feel how surprisingly solid he was, in spite of his lanky figure. Could feel how gentle his touch was, in spite of how brutal and bloodthirsty he could be. Could hear the steady thumping of his heart. You could probably only name two other people who've been in your position before and came out alive, and one of them was Joker's girlfriend.

You were brought back to reality as Joker mumbled to you. "I've wanted to hold you like this for so long, Doc. And now, I finally can. This really is the best night ever."

The Joker rocked you to and fro in a lazy dance, making you step backwards. He leaned down slightly, softly brushing his forehead against your own, distracting you until your legs hit something solid - the Joker guiding you to sit down on a chair placed against the wall. You swallowed thickly as you looked up at him - he looked even taller now, looming over you.

"Well, a deal's a deal, ain't it? Ya caught me!" A mischievous look crossed over Joker's face. "Or was it me that caught you?"

"Either way," He purred, leaning down to get closer to you. He raised a hand to cup your face, before a gloved thumb ran over your bottom lip. "I think it's time for you to get your prize…"

#yandere x reader #yandere joker #the joker x reader #joker x reader #arkhamverse joker #arkhamverse #yandere dc #yandere dc x reader #dc x reader #can be any Joker but its based off Arkhamverse J #yandere #suggestive #nothing happens but. just in case #fuck Arkham Asylum all my homies hate Arkham Asylum #the building not the game #yandere imagines #yandere imagine