#arkham

December Junk Journal - 2025

Voting's up and our first stop is revealed as we go partying with the Gotham City Sirens.

Get ready and stay tuned for tomorrow's easter egg reveal and a new stage of voting, 3 arts left! See you soon <3

Second part of our project is here, follow us on our trip together! Click here !

Don’t misunderstand. Tim’s not like standing at this revolving door of a prison entrance intimidating people into staying. He’s just being he’s weird self. He’s not Robin anymore after all, Damian took that mantle, but he’s still Timothy Drake and if you think this little twink of a boy with too much Information on everyone and to many random ass skill sets is not the most entertaining thing to show up in those halls then you are wrong.

Dude walks in with a suitcase half his size and wearing a pair of shades that cost more than the building housing him. He has a cell to himself that’s??? Fully furnished what the fuck? How did he get a laptop in here?

Someone approaches him in the canteen thinking they could extort or threaten him and Tim reflexively flips and pins them to the ground. He then sits in the guy and starts telling his captive audience about a cold case from 87 that he’s absolutely positive would be solved already if the police were competent in collecting evidence but also holy shit the uncle was so obviously guilty I can’t believe he somehow managed to get away with it.

Tim and Dent regularly hold mock trials. They’re not serious. Someone from the audience usually comes up with some random scenario and the two argue over it and site sources they have memorized and they go back and forth until there’s a vote by a preselected Jury.

Somehow Tim and Riddler started a “Pun-off.” That roped in like….half of the inmates. They had to cool it after someone got stabbed for a particularly bad pun though.

PowerPoint nights were implemented and the therapist thought it was a great idea because it allowed the patience an outlet for their obsessions. Most showed up because Tim was a bottomless well of cold case information and obscure conspiracy theories. This man has shown up every night with a new PowerPoint to present. No one talks about the number of note takers when he was presenting the PowerPoint on cloning.

People start showing up to group therapy on the off chance they’re in a group with Tim because there is something entertaining about listening to him dramatically wax poetic about how if he’d “ever felt the true touch of his mother’s love then he likely wouldn’t have spiraled down mentally when all his closest friends died so close together.

Once, Tim wanted Alaskan Crab so he ordered it and had enough shipped in for all the inmates and the staff. Hired a private chef to come in and cook it all too.

Meanwhile, in one on one therapy, Tim kinda just laughs with his appointed therapists about everything that’s going on. Talking about his friends does help, and playing up his intelligent eccentric billionaire is cathartic in a way Tim’s never really expected. “How sad is it that I’ve had more fun around these people than I have with my own family?” He asked one day.

Dick shows up one day to check on his baby brother because all he hears from Arkham is “Tim’s doing great!” Also he’s trying to check up on why there haven’t been any breakouts recently. When he’s brought to Tim’s cell he’s super confused. Again, this is a fully furnished Cell and Tim’s “smuggled” in a super computer essentially and what looked like a very expensive bed. There’s a shelf of books and a number of other electronics and oh? Are those WI financial records? Is Tim still running the company out of Arkham?

Anyway, Dick is checking in and Tim beams at him. “Dude, you basically sent me on Sabbatical! No fighting, no Damian or Jason! I don’t have to submit patrol reports. I’m not always bruised up from fights. No Damian or Jason! And when my fellow inmates aren’t being psychotic they’re entertaining as shit! I’m having more fun here than I have had in the last decade.”

And Dick doesn’t really know how to handle this, especially when Tim slips him a tablet and says. “By the way, I called in a favor with Slade (or other mercenary of your choice) since that Bitch owes me for that one stunt in the Caribbean, and had him check out some locations I thought Bruce might have left clues. Turns out I was right. Our cruddy father was in fact not dead and lost in the Time Stream. This tablet has everything you need to bring him back assuming you don’t think I’m still losing my sanity, which by the way, I’ve seen future selves where my sanity was lost and you better pray that never happens. Apparently the world burns. Killed that version of me already though, it’s somewhere in the YJ archives along with Gun Batman, Joker Batman, and Demon Head Tim. That last one is still possible though.”

“There’s at least two ninja’s here who have been tasked with keeping an eye on me on Ra’s behest. Wouldn’t put it past that man to abduct and try to brainwash me, but also if he tried Dent and Riddle would team up and systematically tear his organization a part to get me back. Apparently I’ve brought in enough intellectual stimulation and  entertainment that if anything happened to me they would ‘kill everyone involved and then Themselves.’ Their words not mine. I mean, I haven’t seen hide more tail of the Joker and wouldn’t be surprised if someone shot him dead in his cell to keep him from ruining our fun.” It was Tim actually. Figured he’d give patricide a go since all of his father/father figures keep dying. Figured he’d let Joker Junior complete the set.

“Anyway. Go save Bruce. When’s he’s back, tel him to come pick me up. Ask him if he’s proud that I’m following in his footsteps. Oooh tell him they stuck me in his old room I bet he’d love that!”

Dick end up leaving wondering if he somehow made a problem worse.

A month later Bruce shows up in a suit. Tim is drinking something out of a pineapple, sitting around a table with Dent, Nigma, and Harley playing a game of poker. Tim looks up, smiles, and asks if he wants to be delt in. Bruce sighs heavily but pulls up a chai, nods at the the other’s at the table and lets his son deal him into the game.