#International Asylum News
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#documented#new york city#state of new york#migrants#asylum seekers#documented.info#digital platform#international rescue committee (irc)
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Full accountability for Genocide in Rwanda remains elusive 30 years later
First Published in The New Times Rwanda by Zachary D. Kaufman, J.D., Ph.D: This year marks the 30th anniversary of the 1994 Genocide Against the Tutsi in Rwanda. Recent developments, including in the United States and within the United Nations, have been celebrated as indicating the successful pursuit of justice for the genocide. The truth, however, is more complicated. On May 15, the UN…
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#Africa#asylum#International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda#news#politics#Rwanda#rwandan genocide#Survivors Fund#UN International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals#Zachary D. Kaufman
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UK Home Secretary visits Rwanda to discuss controversial deportation scheme | CNN
CNN — British Home Secretary Suella Braverman arrived in Rwanda on Saturday to discuss a controversial agreement which will see the UK deport asylum seekers deemed to have arrived illegally to the African nation. The scheme is mired in legal difficulties – no one has yet been deported – and Braverman’s visit has been criticized as she invited journalists from right-wing titles to accompany…
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#africa#citizenship and displacement#continents and regions#deportation#domestic alerts#domestic-international news#eastern africa#europe#iab-politics#immigration#international relations and national security#northern europe#political asylum#rwanda#united kingdom
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ASYLUM AU ! dark!patient!rafe x new!nurse!reader
summary ; everybody warned you about this patient, but you wanted to give him a chance as the new little nurse of the asylum. you just have to feed him nothing more, how can it turn bad ? or maybe your deep hidden secret was that you expected this... ? to be alone for some minutes with him.
warnings : dark content. knife play. violence. smut. sick behavior. mentions of threats. asylum place. mean!rafe. oral (m.receiving.). fear enthousiast. mentions of spit. dubcon. manipulation. agressive behavior. choking. size kink. slight of corruption. rafe being a menace as always.minors DNI. be careful with the warnings. maybe some mistakes too, i'm too dumb.
author's note : i wrote this with a big headache so please, it's maybe a little shitty and i'm sorry. this is strongly inspired by the show " ratched " and not the season of ahs. ngl at first, i wanted to make a mildred!reader but with rafe, it's a bit complicated. anyways !
“i don’t think it’s a good idea to send y/n to deal with rafe. she's still new in the asylum....and rafe? you know how he is, it's not a secret. . he could hurt her. ” said the man who worked with you and obviously who had a crush on you. you didn’t know if it was jealousy or a real sign of affection.
you had arrived at the asylum a week ago, and everyone had been nice to you, the patients and the workers. that's why you were very intrigued by rafe, because you knew he had a difficult connection with all the people here, and only a strict set of people could interact with him. you wanted to know more about him so badly because of the mystery around him. and maybe you were curious about what he looked like after what everyone was saying about this guy.
“shut up, man ! i think it’s a very good idea. ” your colleague said, discreetly giving you a knife, with a smile on her face.
“is he that dangerous? ” you replied, raising an eyebrow.
“you’re so innocent, y/n! ”
“i’m not. it's just that i don't understand the use of this knife. there is enough security i think. ”
nevermind, you were definitely ready. you had waited for this day since you arrived here. it was annoying to see everyone treating you like a baby and making you sit there doing nothing or like an intern giving you the worst chores.
“believe me, you’ll need it. it’s an asylum, everyone’s mad, and you know what? this one guy. " she whispered so close to your ear. "he's the worst of all." and she was gone, leaving you with a nice shiver in your stressed body.
you should hate this place, the nightmares and the problems that haunted these walls. but that's exactly what you came for, ever since you were heard that rafe cameron had been interned in this place, you had done everything to be transferred there he had killed an incalculable number of people, without mercy, without remorse, without regrets and what killed all these people, this sentence. this sadness, made you so curious.
how could a man be so cold and cruel? you needed to know it, see it and feel it.
but you finally saw the light. you had hidden the knife in your lace garter underneath your pretty blue nurse uniform. it was quite short, the skirt going up just below your butt, it was as indecent as it was seductive.
you had to go through several back doors, and deal with security. the guard had given you some advice, and asked you to be careful. you replied politely “can you leave me alone with my patient? i wish it were both of us so as not to rush him. you know he's already in a lot of pain, he's very mad. you don't want to make his situation worse, do you? i ask for the respect of his privacy. ” you had convinced him with your devotion, and kind smile. and you had entered the devil's room without really knowing what you were getting yourself into.
“another new girl? ” a deep, masculine voice had said through the bars of a cell, you could hear the ringing of handcuffs.
“you gotta love scaring them away, rafe cameron. ”
“wrong, sweetheart but nice try. i prefer when they stay. it's more fun when they realize they're stuck with me. ”
“do you realize how sick you are, rafe? ” you allowed yourself to be familiar with him while gathering his meal out of the cart to bring to him.
“you’ll be the one to tell me, y/n. after all, that’s what you’re here for. ” he had no shame, no restraint, and you could feel that he was trying to make you lose control, to upset you, to get on your nerves, and to make you crazy. he was just testing you.
“how do you know my first name? ”
“oh i think your boyfriend likes to say your name a lot when he comes to see me. ”
“i don’t have a boyfriend. ”
you approached to finally discover his face. you expected a monster, a misshapen man, a dark creature but it was none of that. he was a boy with a charming face, a neat hairstyle, and magnificent features. he looked so good physically but you also knew that mental illnesses couldn't be seen on someone's face. but it was as if his own beauty romanticized his perfect madness. reconnecting with reality, you glared away.
“open your mouth. ” you ordered.
with such a sick smile, he replied. “ i really love when my little nurses come to feed me. don't make me waste anything. there's nothing i can't eat here. ” he responded while looking at you, his eyes scanning you, from your breasts compressed in your uniform, to the tiny dress who covered your quivering body.
“i can remove your handcuffs if you promise to behave.”
“ what else, sweetheart? you're the boss, here. ”
“promise me. ”
“you really want to trust me? i wouldn't do that in your place. ” you could tell he was clearly having fun with you. that the more you wasted your time, the more he gained.
“promise me. ”
“ promised. ” he responded gently but there was something so wrong, so bad in his voice.
you had undone him from his handcuffs, and he had grabbed you, holding your body harshly against the bar. you felt pain when your back crushed the cold metal. his hand had circled your neck, completely locking it with his fingers.
“sorry sweetheart, i’m really not good at keeping my promises. and i can't keep my hands to myself with such a beautiful girl in my company, that would be disrespectful, don't you think? don't look at me with those eyes, you wished for it. i can even say that you manifested it because i can't believe you're that stupid or maybe you are. but in this case, let me make you even more senseless. ”
you were short of air and rafe had noticed. you wondered if he was going to kill you, but you remembered that he liked to play. in a false movement, you dropped your knife.
“it’s your lucky day! you won't be the only toy in the party, doll. ”
he had removed his hand from your mouth and while you were trying to catch your breath, he had picked up the knife. he had hooked one of your hands to the bars with the handcuffs. there were tears on your cheeks when the object approached your arm.
“you know you would be even prettier if you let me draw a smile on your face? ”
you shook your head to defend him from doing that. you didn’t want him to hurt you, or feel that sharp thing on you.
“can i give you a new haircut then? wouldn't you like to have shorter hair? don't make those eyes, this knife must be useful to us. your body is betraying you, you should hate it for giving me so many bad ideas. ”
he had cut the buttons of your dress with the knife, revealing your bra with the smooth, shiny surface. “ such a gorgeous thing with pretty parts. he had dragged your uniform to the floor. “you have pretty eyes, too bad they hate me so much. ”
you turned your head when he tried to lick your face, but he didn’t like it. he had violently grabbed your jaw, slamming it against the metal iron, and forcing you to look at him. “i really tried to be nice....ok no, maybe i'm lying, i never tried to be nice to you but i was patient. and now i’m pissed. and guess who's going to have to fix it?”
he licked the side of your cheek, before biting the corner of your mouth, his teeth sunk in your bottom lip. while he sucked his favorite part of your face, he slided his tongue in you, making a rough contact with your throat, his saliva mixed with yours. you moaned against him, freaking out when a bead of blood came out in your widen drippin slit. “ swallow it, sweetheart. 's not gonna kill you. ”. he kissed you intensely, forcing you to swallow the blood and the spit that dropped in your moth, his hand around your hips, pressing his fingers into your skin. he loved to watch the fear in your glossy eyes, watching the fall of your boundaries because of him. you were so nervous, shaking with tense.
“ get on your fucking knees, doll. do something good for me, only once in your fucking useless life.”
surely because of his firm tone and his temperament but above all because of the knife at your throat that threatened you, you had listened to him. you were facing his boner. “i think you’ve already done that. you just have to do it again with me. ” with a speed that had terrified you, he had squeezed your cheeks in his hand, digging them with his fingers. “be careful, sweetheart. i'm not as nice as your boyfriend, dare to put your teeth in, even if it's just a molar, and i can promise you that i would also allow myself to damage you. so, if you want to keep that face intact, you know what you have to do. ”
“ you hurt me!”
“yes, and i love it, doll. the more you complain, the more i will do it.”
suddenly tired of your stupidities, he forced your hands to unzip his pants, and remove his boxers. he was huge. not your usual type. he had opened your mouth which you refused to open with the knife. “try to bite me, and it will be worse. ”
he had pushed his hard cock into your mouth, and without waiting, started making you suck. his large cock occupied your tongue, you breathed hard as he shoved every inch deep, his hand was wrapped around your hair in a brutal grip, tugging fiercely every time you tried to take a break. but the rythm was unbearable, his slippery leaking tip was hitting the back of your throat, and his bulge seemed to grow every time you took him in your mouth. you could feel the drool dripping around his cock, the way your saliva pooled. your lips were swollen and wet, completely abused. his balls sopping wet with your spittle, lazily slapping in a pornographic sound. your mascara was running, your eyes were twinkling.
you could hear him enjoying the show of your downfall because he was the only master of it, his grunts becoming one of the sounds in the room, along with your muffled cries, the smack of his balls in the air, the dull buzzing in your head. everything was happening so fast. “stop. ” he had removed his fat length from your mouth, pressed the tip against your tears before making you suck again. “is my dick better with your flavor, sweetheart? ” you didn’t know if you really hated him. the thing that disgusted you about him, this madness, this attitude, also excited you. you felt strongly giddy.
your panties were immerged, the wetness flowed between your thighs. “ you're supposed to take care of me, but it looks like you need someone to take care of you. ”
you sucked back and forth, your tongue rolled on his big girth. he was painfully hard, and your throat started to hurts. he pushed himself deeper in your mouth, smirking everytime you were about to pass out. when he had finally had enough, he pulled back, taking his penis in his hands, you had chased the trickle of drool between the two of you and sniffling. your cheeks were wet with tears and saliva, everything was mixed in a mess. “ look like your sick patient is feeding you, how do you feel about this, little nurse ? what about your job ? too bad, there are no cameras here, but also pretty lucky for the two of us, nobody can disturb. but soon, the guard security’s gonna check on you because they care a lot about your safety. but i'm curious now, what they will think if they found you without your uniform, but mostly, what will they think about me inside their favorite little nurse ? especially, your sweet boyfriend. it would be so disappointed to see the one he love is not interested because she prefered to be fucked by his ennemy. seems like, you can hurt a lot of people too, sweetheart. ”
you understood why he was locked up differently from the others. he was so manipulative. but also aggressive. he had torn your underwear with the knife. you shivered as you felt the cold metal surface on your skin. you were literally scared, your pulse had accelerated, your breathing too. you weren't a fan of knives but the problem was that the more afraid you were, the more you motivated him to want to hurt you.
“relax” he had said as he placed the knife back against your collarbones, pressing it against your bone. then slided it down your neck, the metal tip lightly stinging your skin. “you know i can’t kill you, doll. i can only torture you. “
that didn't reassure you at all, you preferred that he killed you. as if he had read your mind, he replied. “you should be more scared of what i can do to you than what the knife could. i will hurt you better. ”
he had moved the knife to your stomach, then to your wet pussy. “there’s more than just fear from what i see. and you can't deny it. " he continued, sliding the sharp object at your entrance.
“ please, rafe ! not in…i-i-i-m begging you ! ”
“ you beg ? so sweet. but do you know what ? i don't care, honey. ”
“ you…i'm sure…i mean, you're not that sick ! please…”
“ if you say please once again, i'm pretty sure i can cum between your legs. ”
the tip of his knife had caressed the inside of your sloppy cunt. “don’t worry, i won’t go any further. ” he withdrew the knife, and licked the blade. “i fear, everything is sweet about you, pretty nurse. now, spread those legs for me. ”
“we can't do that, the guard is right next door! he can hear everything and imagine if he comes” you started to panic. with a mocking tone, he replied “for the time, i can handle it but for the noise, it's on you, sweetheart. do you think you can do that ? don't answer, i don't fucking care at all because i will fuck you in any case. ”
“you shouldn't do that, it's really bad, you might regret it! ” you tried to stop him, but the knife hit your throat. “don't try to escape something that's going to happen, it's a waste of time. and i hate it. ” he lost his patience and opened your legs with one hand, she was big and strong enough to control you on her own. he had slightly moistened his cock before going inside of you.
“ one move, one scream or one fucking bite and i will rip your throat, got it ? ”
you nodded, and his thrusts started to get rougher, he pounded you deep in your stupid little cunt, hitting the spot with no mercy. you wanted to shout but the knife was clearly too close to do anything stupid. you bitten your own lips, a drop of blood dripped in your mouth. he smacked your ass a couple of times to the point you felt the bruises and the pain quickly. his teeth were on your shoulder, leaving marks. it was painful, but you don't wanted to be a crybaby. you held back your tears, while he crushed you against the metal.
he stretched you to your limits and you barely held back a cry. he smiled before covering your mouth with your underwear. his body was sweaty, you could see the sweat sheen his body. your body slammed against his, and against the bar. he had pushed your thong between your lips but also his fingers which you sucked with enormous devotion, you licked every inch of his skin, you covered them with drool, you made them completely soaked. he eventually added a lot of his spit. you must have looked like nothing at all. you were even less credible in your role of nurse. he was no more groans as he reached your first orgasm, but more desperate whispers, quick back and forth in your uncontrollably leaked swollen cunt, as his eyes were all over your face. his dick was harder because of seeing you with his fingers and your panties stuffing perfectly your slutty mouth.
he lifted up your leg to watch himself getting buried inside your walls. “ i'm afraid that now you can't deny that this pussy is mine. ” he said, removing your thong from your mouth.
“ i'm not y-yours...rafe ! ”
“ i fear it will be against your will then, sweetheart because your fucking cunt really like me. ”
he grabbed your face, forced you to look at your messy part. “ still deny, fucking slut ? you really want me to pull that knife inside. ”
again, you shook your head.
“say it. you know your words. ”
“this pussy is yours, only yours! ”
he plowed you for a long moment, and you can't even think anymore. you were too dumb, too dizzy. your head spinned, and your body only moved because of him pounding retlessenly. you squirted a lot, you splashed a little on him but it was nothing unlike him. when he came, it had gushed into your pussy, the thick and white loads filled you, while his sweaty and heavy balls emptied inside you.
“ sweetheart, you're really my favorite nurse. don't forget to tell the director how mean i was to you. ”
“ why did you cum in me ? ”
“ for any inconveniences, you can tell the director. she will be glad to know how i fuck all her little nurses. and you're not an exception. ”
“ what if i'm pregnant ? ”
“ you're so naive. pregnant or not, nobody's gonna forgive you for that sin. ”
“ i'm leaving. ”
“ don't forget the knife, you know how to play with it now. ”
“ i hope you will stay here forever.”
“ you can pray for it, sweetheart but i fear god doesn't listen to sinners. ”
i wanted to tysm @dark-fics-4-you and @bunnyrafe for helped me with this one. <333
#can't wait for halloween i think ???#ratched is a good show#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#obx#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#dark!rafe#dark!rafe x reader#mean!rafe x reader#mean!rafe#tw knifeplay#tw violence#dark content#ratched#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#x reader#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron drabble#obx smut#rafe core#rafe cameron blurb#obx content
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A while ago I got under someone's skin for referencing Joker's surprising delayed reaction to killing Jason Todd, and since then I've been thinking it's worth digging into as an interesting element of Joker's characterization.
Of course, first thing's first: Jason's murder in Batman (1940) #427, as originally presented in 1988.
Jason has just reconnected with his biological mother, Sheila Haywood, at a famine relief camp in Ethiopia— and he's discovered that Joker is blackmailing her with information about her criminal past. She gets him truckloads of medical supplies to sell on the black market, and Joker restocks the trucks with toxin. While Bruce races to stop a tampered truck, Jason decides to help his mother on his own. When he discloses he's Robin, however, Sheila betrays him to Joker, not only to stay on Joker's good side but because she's actually been embezzling money from the organization she works for this whole time. She's afraid an investigation prompted by Batman and Robin's appearance would expose this fact.
So Sheila stands by as Jason is felled by Joker and his goons, and then the crowbarring starts.
It's bad! When we return later, Jason is presumably dead.
While Joker isn't shocked that he's murdered a child, he does have an unexpected reaction to Sheila's point. He hadn't really been thinking about what he was doing, implying that he hadn't intended to kill Jason. He just got carried away, whoopsie! He didn't do this to get at Batman; he wasn't thinking about Batman at all. Now, however, he's concerned about how Batman will react.
Joker thinks Jason is already dead. The purpose of the bomb is to get rid of the evidence of his involvement, including Sheila. Joker is not broken up about what he did, but he does have a sense that he's gone a step too far and he doesn't want Batman to know about it. At least for now!
In the end, while Jason wakes and he and his mother try to save each other, they're trapped in the warehouse when the bomb goes off. Bruce makes it back only in time to find a dying Sheila, who tells him it was Joker. When Bruce finds Jason, Jason gets no last words. He's already dead, and Bruce is devastated.
A clue from Joker leads Bruce to the United Nations in New York, and there, infamously, Bruce learns that Joker has been made the ambassador from Iran. Joker is now protected from prosecution, and Batman going after him risks an international incident. Bruce still very much wants to, but Superman stops him.
Well, mostly Superman. I recommend reading Batman #429 to see Bruce's full thought process on this. He is furious and constantly thinking about finally ending Joker— but he also questions his mental state. He still wonders if he can hold Joker responsible if he believes Joker is insane. He uses phrases like "what happened to Jason" like it was a natural disaster, not murder. He even confronts Joker to give him one last chance to turn himself in to Arkham Asylum. Bruce is in a kind of denial, still grabbing at how things usually go.
But back to Joker. Evidently, he's no longer worried that Batman will find out he killed Robin. Joker admits to it immediately.
I assume Joker realized there was no point in denying it. Is Batman going to think it's a coincidence that Robin got blown up when Joker was around? Though Bruce does say it's Joker's taunts that 100% confirm for him that the clown was responsible, pointing again to Bruce still grasping for reasons to not break his rule in his grief.
By the end of the issue, Joker has naturally tried to kill the entire United Nations assembly, which instantly made him free game. So Bruce pursues him to a helicopter, and an in-air scuffle ensues in which Bruce explicitly prevents Joker from being killed by friendly fire, evidently so he can decide how Joker will die. Bruce jumps out of the helicopter, abandoning Joker to a fiery crash. However, despite Bruce's (supposed) intentions, Joker's body is nowhere to be found. The clown lives!
So that's it, right? Joker felt some unease about killing Jason initially, but in a short time, he was happy to gloat about it to Batman's face.
But when Joker reappears in Batman #450, in 1990, he is not triumphant. He's holed up in a dilapidated building, where he learns someone is impersonating him.
How often do we see Joker upset by murders? When the story returns to him, we learn more about his mental state.
With all of Joker's cackling glee at the things he's done, coming close to actual death in the helicopter crash has jarred him— and not just the crash, but the murder that led to it. He recoils from the memory of what he did to Jason. It's why he can't see the joke anymore. It's set apart from his previous crimes. It's too far.
Which is not at all to say that Joker is completely broken up about Jason. By the end of #450, he rallies and sets out to go after his copycat and restore his reputation to his liking.
In Batman #451, though, Joker is still plagued by doubts along the way.
Even when he overcomes those doubts, claiming the mantle as the one and only Joker when his copycat dies by falling into acid, Joker challenges Gordon to finally kill him. It's reminiscent of The Killing Joke, the first time Joker went too far. But like TKJ, Gordon and Batman decide to get Joker back to Arkham against their more vengeful instincts.
Joker's also decided Arkham is just what he needs. Outside, he's plagued by the reality of what he's done; in Arkham, he can settle back into his insanity and stop caring about it again.
So after that, Joker has no second thoughts about killing Jason, right? After all, he largely references the murder in callous terms. In-universe this makes sense as Joker revising history in his own head, particularly as more stories portray his effort to be more monster than man. Monsters don't have qualms about murder! But this is comics, so we can also presume that not all Joker writers know or remember #450/451, which I think is a shame. I find stories in which Joker expresses even just a degree of vulnerability to be more interesting than those where he's just mwahaha evil.
I have seen a few other bat stories bring some nuance into Joker's perception of Jason's death, though.
First up is the particularly nuanced "Fool's Errand" in Detective Comics (1937) #726, published in 1998. Bruce visits Joker in Arkham to get information on how to find a kidnapped girl who's running out of time. It just so happens Joker arranged this kidnapping for a particular day.
I strongly recommend this issue for batjokes fans, as it revolves around Joker talking the case through with Batman in his cell to help him figure out more clues to a crime Joker himself planned. Even with Bruce beating Joker up, the conversational tone feels almost friendly. They're just doing their usual thing.
Well, sort of. Bruce has already said he's not in the mood, and he interrupts their conversation to say so again.
Joker could insist that Batman stay and keep playing the game, and needle him for being unwilling to merely talk to Joker to rescue this child. Instead, Joker gives up her location.
And Bruce does come back as predicted.
So that was Joker's nefarious plan. He wanted to restore some hope to Bruce's cynical soul to be sure that his future failures would hurt even more. But it sure seems the middle didn't go the way Joker expected, when he recognized Batman just wasn't going to play the game as usual.
Joker doesn't jump into taunting. He doesn't answer Bruce at first. He's withdrawn and reflective. He's got something else on his mind on this anniversary of the second Robin's death, and he knows that Bruce does, too. Perhaps not forcing Batman to play was a small gesture, acknowledging the difficulty of the day, remembering how things changed. And what does that gesture cost Joker when he still gets the outcome he wants?
Second example is actually also called "Fool's Errand," this one from Robin (1993) #85, published in 2001. This is a fun one in which Joker discusses his interactions and frustrations with the Robins.
But while Joker indicates more than once that he wants to fight Batsy alone, after he talks about killing Jason, this is the next page:
Joker does not then say he was relieved when another Robin showed up, but still. He's acknowledged again that when he murdered Jason, things were not right. As angry as the birdies make him, they're a key component in the game.
Then we come back to "Once More, With Feeling!" in Harley Quinn (2000) #25, from 2002. Harley's been playing double-agent against Batman with Joker, and she and Joker have this exchange.
Joker typically makes light of murdering Robin, but it seems that when he's with just about his only confidante, he lets other feelings about it burst out.
There's also a flashback to DitF in Batman: Gotham Knights #44 in 2003. We get an exchange between Bruce and Joker before Bruce jumps out of the helicopter.
Joker laughs as the helicopter dives, ready to die, but before that, he seems resigned. He doesn't throw in a real dig about murdering Jason, and he doesn't gloat that he's finally gotten Batman to kill him. He acknowledges he crossed a line.
Lastly, there's a 2006 exchange between, well, Joker and Jason himself in "All They Do is Watch Us Kill, Part 2" as part of Under the Red Hood in Batman (1940) #649. Jason has kidnapped Joker as batbait, and when Joker needles him, Jason needles him back.
Joker regularly extolls his own crimes, but suddenly one of his victims mockingly accuses him of putting up a front, of not being as coldhearted and untouchable as he wants to seem. Maybe Joker does doubt what he's doing and retreats under the cover of madness so he doesn't have to think about it— just as he did in Batman #451.
I'm not sure if there are other examples of Joker expressing anything but mocking glee about Jason's death. I do know of times he's shown a sort of fondness for Jason (such as in The Man Who Stopped Laughing #4, Gotham War: Red Hood #2, Suicide Squad: Get Joker #3), but that's not really the same thing. Joker could've seen Red Hood as his and Batman's Frankenstein child without feeling any squeamishness about killing him in the first place.
But if anyone knows of any other moments where Joker does not act like killing Jason is absolutely his most favorite thing he ever did, do share!
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Elizabeth Cochran was born on May 5, 1864 in Cochran’s Mills, Pennsylvania. The town was founded by her father, Judge Michael Cochran. Elizabeth had fourteen siblings. Her father had ten children from his first marriage and five children from his second marriage to Elizabeth’s mother, Mary Jane Kennedy.
Michael Cochran’s rise from mill worker to mill owner to judge meant his family lived very comfortably. Unfortunately, he died when Elizabeth was only six years old and his fortune was divided among his many children, leaving Elizabeth’s mother and her children with a small fraction of the wealth they once enjoyed. Elizabeth’s mother soon remarried, but quickly divorced her second husband because of abuse, and relocated the family to Pittsburgh.
Elizabeth knew that she would need to support herself financially. At the age of 15, she enrolled in the State Normal School in Indiana, Pennsylvania, and an added an “e” to her last name to sound more distinguished. Her plan was to graduate and find a position as a teacher. However, after only a year and a half, Elizabeth ran out of money and could no longer afford the tuition. She moved back to Pittsburgh to help her mother run a boarding house.
In 1885, Elizabeth read an article in the Pittsburgh Dispatch that argued a woman’s place was in the home, “to be a helpmate to a man.” She strongly disagreed with this opinion and sent an angry letter to the editor anonymously signed “Lonely Orphan Girl.”
The newspaper’s editor, George A. Madden, was so impressed with the letter that he published a note asking the “Lonely Orphan Girl” to reveal her name. Elizabeth marched into the Dispatch offices and introduced herself. Madden immediately offered her a job as a columnist. Shortly after her first article was published, Elizabeth changed her pseudonym from “Lonely Orphan Girl” to “Nellie Bly,” after a popular song.
Elizabeth positioned herself as an investigative reporter. She went undercover at a factory where she experienced unsafe working conditions, poor wages, and long hours. Her honest reporting about the horrors of workers’ lives attracted negative attention from local factory owners. Elizabeth’s boss did not want to anger Pittsburgh’s elite and quickly reassigned her as a society columnist.
To escape writing about women’s issues on the society page, Elizabeth volunteered to travel to Mexico. She lived there as an international correspondent for the Dispatch for six months. When she returned, she was again assigned to the society page and promptly quit in protest.
Elizabeth hoped the massive newspaper industry of New York City would be more open-minded to a female journalist and left Pittsburgh. Although several newspapers turned down her application because she was a woman, she was eventually given the opportunity to write for Joseph Pulitzer’s New York World.
In her first act of “stunt” journalism for the World, Elizabeth pretended to be mentally ill and arranged to be a patient at New York’s insane asylum for the poor, Blackwell’s Island. For ten days Elizabeth experienced the physical and mental abuses suffered by patients.
Elizabeth’s report about Blackwell’s Island earned her a permanent position as an investigative journalist for the World. She published her articles in a book titled 10 Days in A Mad House. In it, she explained that New York City invested more money into care for the mentally ill after her articles were published. She was satisfied to know that her work led to change.
Activist journalists like Elizabeth—commonly known as muckrakers—were an important part of reform movements. Elizabeth’s investigations brought attention to inequalities and often motivated others to take action. She uncovered the abuse of women by male police officers, identified an employment agency that was stealing from immigrants, and exposed corrupt politicians. She also interviewed influential and controversial figures, including Emma Goldman in 1893.
The most famous of Elizabeth’s stunts was her successful seventy-two-day trip around the world in 1889, for which she had two goals. First, she wanted to beat the record set in the popular fictional world tour from Jules Verne’s Around the World in Eighty Days. Second, she wanted to prove that women were capable of traveling just as well as—if not better than—men. Elizabeth traveled light, taking only the dress she wore, a cape, and a small traveler’s bag. She challenged the stereotypical assumption that women could not travel without many suitcases, outfit changes, and vanity items. Her world tour made her a celebrity. After her return, she toured the country as a lecturer. Her image was used on everything from playing cards to board games. She recounted her adventures in her final book, Around the World in 72 Days.
In 1895, Elizabeth retired from writing and married Robert Livingston Seaman. Robert was a millionaire who owned the Iron Clad Manufacturing Company and the American Steel Barrel Company. When Robert died in 1904, Elizabeth briefly took over as president of his companies.
In 1911, she returned to journalism as a reporter for the New York Evening Journal. She covered a number of national news stories, including the Woman Suffrage Parade of 1913 in Washington, D.C. Elizabeth often referred to suffrage in her articles, arguing that women were as capable as men in all things. During World War I, she traveled to Europe as the first woman to report from the trenches on the front line.
Although Elizabeth never regained the level of stardom she experienced after her trip around the world, she continued to use her writing to shed light on issues of the day. She died of pneumonia on January 27, 1922.
#nellie bly#women's history#feminism#journalism#history of journalism#social justice#women's suffrage#progressive#women's rights
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Spellbinding ( sam winchester x reader )
summary : sam being completely in love with reader who happens to be his best friend while on a hunt she is hit with a curse making her needy clingy mess while sam was loving the closeness it was only temporary right?
Warnings : spells and shit , sam being simp (love that for him )
In all his life he never thought he would feel like this , at first he pegged it to being a school boy crush but it only grew . she would be the one to stay up late into the morning researching while his brother just went to the bar or bed calling them " nerds" . she'd be the one to make sure they got sleep after realising how long they had spent nose deep in their laptops or books . she'd be the one to make sure everyone was taken care of even making sure dean didn't have a diet that consisted of fast food making them home cooked meals in the bunker . she would tease and be playful so it wasn't all work . so it was hard not to fall for her in fact what scared him was how easy it happened. the fact that dean caught on was hell in itself finding new ways to torture his brother with the new found information always pairing the two off together , the little remarks she never noticed and when she did she would brush them off as dean well being dean . hunts we're both a blessing and a curse for him when she was there . he could make sure she was safe but yet her just being there meant she was also in danger , an internal battle on which part to stick with . Like now they were walking through an abandoned asylum after report of many men going mad once they've been in the place one way or another . now they were walking through the halls , searching for whatever it was or even a clue to what it was . she hated the abandoned hospitals and asylums they had an extra creepy feeling to them . sam knew this main reason he made sure to stay closer then usual which if he was lying he kinda took advantage of it . " ah shit " she huffed . " what , what is it " . " look the symbol we've dealt with this before " she pointed walking into the large open space that used to be a rec room . the symbols spread around the room like she said it was too familiar .
" witches " he mused. " always witches get dean here , he's a lightening rod for curses " she sighed dramatically making him laugh. " what are you doing here , your not welcome " the voice called . " listen lady , neither are you " she turned to see the raven haired woman glaring . " this is my new home and intend to keep it that way " she turned to sam as he raised his gun . he was waiting for it , to be thrown across the room it was all too regular habit but yet all he felt was her pushing him and taking the hit flying across and hitting the wall . " hey darling now that wasn't so nice of you " dean held the woman tight while cas done his thing . " hey sweetheart you ok " he called. " yeah i think so ouch how do you do that sammy " she groaned wiping the dust off of herself . " what the hell were you thinking " he yelled running to check her over. " i was thinking you'd be grateful " she smiled sweetly. " idiot you could of been killed " he chastised missing the way she was looking at him . " hey kid you ok " dean smirked seeing the sudden shift in her demeanour. " so pretty " she cooed all doe eyes and mushy as she stared at her best friend before latching on to his arm . " lets get her out of here " dean snorted seeing his brothers cheeks all flushed while Y/N was clinging to him like he was the light in the dark . " hey how you feeling slugger" dean turned see sam carrying her out on his back like a koala on a tree. " she wanted to be closer because it hurt being so far apart " he groaned. " hey you should be happy hot chick all over you " held the door open so sam could put her in the back . " cas in front "dean's shit eating grin was not helping the situation and neither was the grabby hands she was making .
They found out she was hit with a curse same one those men were hit with except in her case well she was overly clingy only when sam moved away it actually hurt her like a blinding cutting pain ran through her body when they were apart for more than 60 minutes , during the first week they found that out . " a couple of weeks and she will be back to normal she said something else but cas was playing around so we had to leave quick " dean explained while Y/N was now in sams lap almost purring like a kitten nothing like the woman before . " couple of weeks , how the hell am i going to do this for a couple of weeks " sam hissed rubbing her back when she tensed at his words. " enjoy it since your such a bitch and not telling her how you feel when she's, well not a pussy cat " he chuckled. " do you not like the affection " cas asked confused. " i would if it was of her own accord " sam muttered feeling her head resting on his shoulder after she'd fallen asleep . " i need a shower , a quick one " he said placing her down on the sofa and putting his shit around her. " don't be long i can see her screaming again , it's painful to watch " cas walked out . " i wont , i don't like it either " sam huffed running out the room . he loved it and hated it , he loved the close contact and he affection , but he missed his partner in crime , he miss how she would talk about everything and anything with him , he missed her being his best friend . yet he love having her nuzzled so close he could smell her shampoo , he loved the feeling of her soft skin under his palms. how he could see every detail of her face , how her smiled would widen in his presence . the water cascaded down his body yet the hot water done nothing to soften the stress of the situation he loved and hated all in one . What made it worse she was going through it all because she wanted to save him , wasn't it his job to keep her safe.
"where's sammy " she whined starting to sweat as she felt the tingle beginning. " he'll be back in a minute " dean huffed. he couldn't wait for it to end , the badass smart chick he loved like a sister reduce to a needy airhead , now whining like a kid for candy. " hey how come you never told sam why she so bad " cas asked again his curious nature getting the best. " because even i know the two of them need to say it without the power of a curse and hell he'd probably short circuited. " this hurts " she sniffled but her head shot up feeling his presence near it was like her skin was burning and only he could put it out. " hey i'm back " he smiled weakly feeling her arms wrap around him tightly. " i missed you , it hurt and dean was mean" she pouted . " jesus this hard to even watch " dean rolled his eyes . " well if sam loves her i'm sure it ok " . " sammy only loves me like a friend " she pouted at cas words . " that's what you think but he's in love with you ... ouch " he winced rubbing back of his head . her head shot up and a clearing of a fog sensation. " hey when did we get back here " her voice back to levelness before . " hey sweetness aint you a sight " dean smirked only for her to roll her eyes. " she's back " he cheered. " that could of been the cure , although it's very fairy tale like" cas smiled. " what the baby in the trenchcoat is saying was that you were cursed and been on sammy there like a pimple" dean explained making her realise where her hands were . " oh shit sorry " she back off cheeks flushing at the close proximity . " it's ok really " he smiled sheepishly. " so how did we break it " she asked . " i told you how sam really felt and OWWW " Castiel cried . " hey why you hit him " she ran to the angel checking him over. " oh fuck it, knowing sam loved you like truly loved you broke it , the reason she was so affected is because she loves you too " dean yelled. " do i hit him now " cas whispered . " you love me " they both said at same time . " lets give them some room " dean led castiel out of the room while the two stood stunned at the information. " wait did he just confess for us " she asked dumbfounded. " i think he did " sam stood closer wrapping his arms around her waist. " didn't you get enough " she teased turning to face him fully arms going on his shoulder. " but this time its because i know you love me " he smiled leaning his forehead on hers . " shame it wasn't a kiss breaking curse " . " i think we can change that " she couldn't respond because soon as the words left his mouth he crashed his lips on her. kissing her like she was the only source of oxygen . every part of her being felt alive and awake like never before . they melted together like two missing pieces finally connecting. lost souls lost in the dark finding the light. " i love you so much " he chuckled happy to finally being able to say the words .
"hey thought the curse was broken " bobby asked looking as she sat perched in sam's lap while he was looking through research . " it did " she smiled holding up her book she was using . " they love each other and do sick sweet shit like this now " dean rolled his eyes . " oh stop being a baby i've seen you cuddle your car " she snorted. " i have too " castiel nodded. " well glad to have you back kid" bobby smiled getting himself a cup of coffee. sam on other hand sat smiling happily now he had the woman he loved back , the one who talked to him constantly , his best friend and now his girlfriend .
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#supernatural fic#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester fic#castiel#cas#fanfiction#jensen ackles#jared padalecki#misha collins#cw supernatural#sam winchester fluff
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Hi! Do you think you could link me to some resources about the problems/ evils of the EU? Would love to find some but it's hard to know what's reliable when I have no base knowledge in this area + you seem very well informed :)
sure. let's start with what the EU does to its own member states--in 2009, the EU bailed the greek government out of severe debt on the condition that they establish brutal austerity measures, cutting public spending and welfare. these measures served to immiserate and destroy the lives of thousands of greek people:
Greek mortality has worsened significantly since the beginning of the century. In 2000, the death rate per 100,000 people was 944.5. By 2016, it had risen to 1174.9, with most of the increase taking place from 2010 onwards.
[forbes]
Since the implementation of the austerity programme, Greece has reduced its ratio of health-care expenditure to GDP to one of the lowest within the EU, with 50% less public hospital funding in 2015 than in 2009. This reduction has left hospitals with a deficit in basic supplies, while consumers are challenged by transient drug shortages.
[the lancet]
The homeless population is thought to have grown by 25 per cent since 2009, now numbering 20,000 people.
[oxfam]
the most brutal treatment, however, the EU of course reserves for migrants from the global south. the EU sets strict migration quotas and uses its member states as weapons against desperate people fleeing across the mediterranean. boats are prevented from landing, migrants that do make it to land are repelled with brutal violence, and refugees are deported back to countries where their lives are in lethal danger. these policies have led to many, many deaths--and the refugees and migrants who do survive are treating fucking inhumanely.
After a perilous journey across the desert, Abdulaziz was locked up in Triq al-Sikka, a grim prison in Tripoli, Libya. Why? Because the EU pays Libyan militias millions of euros to detain anyone deemed a possible migrant to Europe [...] A leaked EU internal memorandum in 2020 acknowledged that capturing migrants was now “a profitable business model” [...] in Triq al-Sikka and other detention centres, “acts of murder, enslavement, torture, rape and other inhumane acts are committed against migrants”, observed a damning UN report.
[the guardian]
Volunteers have logged more than 27,000 deaths by drowning since 1993, often hundreds at a time when large ships capsize. These account for nearly 80% of all the entries.
[the guardian]
Refugees and asylum seekers were punched, slapped, beaten with truncheons, weapons, sticks or branches, by police or border guards who often removed their ID tags or badges, the committee said in its annual report. People on the move were subject to pushbacks, expulsion from European states, either by land or sea, without having asylum claims heard. Victims were also subject to “inhuman and degrading treatment”, such as having bullets fired close to their bodies while they lay on the ground, being pushed into rivers, sometimes with hands tied, or being forced to walk barefoot or even naked across a border.
[the guardian]
In September, Greece opened a refugee camp on the island of Samos that has been described as prison-like. The €38m (£32m) facility for 3,000 asylum seekers has military-grade fencing and CCTV to track people’s movements. Access is controlled by fingerprint, turnstiles and X-rays. A private security company and 50 uniformed officers monitor the camp. It is the first of five that Greece has planned; two more opened in November.
[the guardian]
i could go on. i could cite dozens more similarly brutal news stories about horrific mistreatment, or any of the dozens of people who have killed themselves in the custody of border police under horrific conditions. the EU is a murderous institution that does not care about the lives of refugees and migrants or about the lives of the citizens of any member state that is not pursuing a vicious enough neoliberal political program
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If you’re interested Can you write a fic Where reader has met Spencer’s mom and she absolutely loves reader and r mentions in front of the team when they have a case in Vegas and says “if we have time can we go see mom?” So the team thinks that they’re dating. They both get all flustered and deny repeatedly. Eventually the get together and kiss maybe where the team saw? So they’d go like “aweee” making them both embarrassed again.
Secret’s Out | Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: A visit with Diana Reid makes you realize how badly you want your relationship to be public. Luckily, Thanks to the team’s snooping, you don’t have to worry much longer.
Tags: fluff, established relationship, BAU! Reader
Warnings: none
Words: 1.7k
A/N: i accidentally lied about how long this was gonna take 🤷♀️ IM SORRY, I GOT SICK (it’s not covid though yaaaaay) enjoy 💕💕
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There were so many things you loved about dating Spencer— his ranting as his long fingertips combed through your hair, the cheeky tight-lipped smile he looked up at you with when he wanted to hold you, the thoughtful coffee dates and foreign film movie nights. You could probably go on indefinitely. One thing you DIDN’T love was keeping it all a secret.
Spencer wasn’t a fan either, but you both knew that this wasn’t something you wanted floating around the office, or, God forbid, an unsub’s criminal plan somehow involving your relationship. So, it is what it is. You were left with two real places you could be a couple: each others apartments, and around Spencer’s mom.
You ADORED her, and she returned the same sentiment tenfold.
The first time you met, you had been, admittedly, and reasonably so, scared shitless. You had heard little tidbits of information about her through the proverbial grapevine. Penelope told you about how she was in some sort of facility in Vegas, and you overheard some ballsy intern talking about how it was actually an ‘asylum’ because she was ‘crazy’. This pissed you off a little, but Spencer reassured you that it was not a big deal. But, no matter what he told you, or how many times he calmed your doubts, standing in that common room in front of Diana Reid was terrifying.
What if she didn’t like you? What if she thought you weren’t good enough for him? What if you didn’t get along and you would sit in awkward silence as she scowls at you and-
“Spencer, is this the girl you’ve been writing me about?” She smiled wide at her son. He nodded sweetly, something glimmering in his eyes. Your heart pounded a little, but that melted away when she wrapped her arms around you, speaking into your ear. “I already like you, sweetheart,” you could hear the smile in her voice, and you couldn’t help but join her.
The three of you spent hours together— finishing a puzzle she started, talking about your favorite books and stories, stories of the favorite boy you two shared. You were all disappointed, when you had to leave.
“Please visit again soon, sweetheart,” she hugged you, turning to Spencer, whispering something in his ear that was purposely just loud enough for you to overhear. “This one’s a keeper, Spence,” she kissed him on the cheek, waving you goodbye.
“Spence?” You grabbed hold of his hand that searched for yours by his side, and he started rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, a habit you loved about him.
He hummed a little in response, pulling you closer.
“I think I love her,” you smiled.
—
That brought you here, sitting next to Spencer, reasonably spaced out, to avoid suspicion, on the jet toward a new case— a new case in Las Vegas. He read through the file for a third time in the past minute and a half, deft fingers moving along the print. You watched in awe of your boyfriend, the focused look on his face making your heart flutter.
“Spence…” you gently interrupted, nudging him gently on the knee. He broke his eyes from the pages, looking down at you. He smiled. You knew he loved you, but it was times like this— when his eyes would immediately dilate, a small smile effortlessly pulling up on his lips, that made you really believe it.
“What’s up?”
“Since we’re in Vegas,” you started, putting a hand on his knee. He grabbed it. “If we have time, could we visit your mom?” The room must have gotten too quiet, right before you said that, because everyone seemed to hear your innocent suggestion.
“You two making plans, over here?” Morgan jested, flashing a signature smile that you had been Pavlov-ed into associating with teasing. You looked at him curiously, not yet understanding his point. “You two going to visit Reid’s mama? What, are you finally gonna ask for his hand in marriage, Pretty Girl?” He chuckled, proud of his joke. You both blushed harshly, scooting away from each other subconsciously.
“Morgan, don’t say stupid stuff,” you laughed nervously, occupying yourself with the file in your hands, trying not to look at your boyfriend’s same flustered expression. “It makes you sound… I don’t know, stupid,” you scoffed at you inability to come up with anything other than that.
“Sooo,” Emily started, smiling wide at the scene in front of her, tickled a little by Reid’s unconscious, nervous leg bouncing. “You’re NOT going on a solo couples excursion?”
Spencer brushed his hair behind his ear, clearing his throat. “Actually, it’s not at all odd for someone to be well acquainted with their friends’ parents,” he pursed his lips, wetting them with his tongue nervously. “When I was a child, I had more in common with the parents of kids in my class, than I did my friends themselves. Studies show-“
You kicked his leg a little, trying to signal that he was digging himself in a hole. He pursed his lips and went quiet.
“I love making the kiddos uncomfortable as much as the next guy, but let’s reconvene on this case,” Rossi interrupted, flashing you an apologetic smile. You sighed and returned the gesture, as the team went back to the former subject. Reid slid back next to you, looking down at you with big, brown eyes. Behind the prying eyes of the team, he hooked his pinky finger with yours, smiling, as he started scanning over the crime scene photos, again.
—
It was a quick case, thankfully. Forty eight hours after you arrived in Vegas, the hostages were returned home, and the unsub was arrested. The team let out a collective sigh of relief and went out to lunch to celebrate. Well, the team MINUS you and Spencer.
“It makes me so happy that my mom loves you so much,” Spencer pulled you closer, walking toward the exit of the facility, his had tangled in yours.
“Gosh, me too,” you laughed, still giddy from getting to visit your boyfriend’s mom, something that always made your day better. He waved a small goodbye to the staff, opening the door for you. “Rossi said he would come pick us up, right?” You squeezed his hand, his free one moving to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, sighing and closing your eyes, the warm summer sun beaming onto your faces. He hummed a small ‘yeah’, swaying with you in the light.
“Y’know…” Spencer started talking. You opened your eyes, looking up at his face, strands of hair shielding his eyes a little. “We don’t HAVE to keep our relationship a secret,” he pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, one hand moving to hold your waist. His eyes searched yours for a reaction. You cocked your head to the side. This notion was a little out-of-nowhere for him.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” he looked up in thought, eyes squinting from the sun. “When we were in there, we didn’t have to keep anything a secret. We didn’t have to walk on eggshells to keep anything in the dark. We were just,” he stopped, looking down at you. “Y’know, us,” he smiled, both hands holding your waist. He was right, and you knew that. More than anything, you wanted to be able to grab his hand without making sure the coast was clear. He wanted to sit so close to you, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to be able to smile and laugh and be with him without trying to keep it under wraps. He wanted you more than anything.
“Alright,” you put your hands around the nape of his neck, and he sighed. He loved that.
“You mean it?” He smiled, a little surprised you agreed so quickly.
“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “I mean, once the team knows, we’ll have to have a talk with Hotch about work-home balance,” Spencer laughed at that, knowing you were right. “Penelope, Emily, and Morgan will want all the details,” he rubbed small circles into your skin, his smile not fading from his face.
“And Rossi is gonna make us have the talk,” he chimed in, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“So that’s it? We’re gonna tell everyone we’re dating?” Your smile was wide, hands combing through the hair at the base of his head. Spencer just nodded, pulling you close to him in a kiss. He smiled into your lips, wrapping his hands all the way around you, then bringing them up to your face. He pulled away, smiling, opening his mouth to say something.
“I-“
“Awwweee!” Your heads spun around to the road, team members’ heads sticking out the window of the van, Rossi in the driver’s seat.
“Reid, you sly dog!” Morgan whistled, smiling wide. Spencer blushed, dropping his hands from your face and laughing nervously. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. You looked between them, then bursted into laughter.
“I guess that’s one way to let them know,” you looked up at your boyfriend. He ran his fingers through his hair.
“I guess so,” he shrugged with a smile, grabbing your hand and walking toward the vehicle.
The secrecy, thankfully, came to and end.
But the rest of it all was just starting.
#x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x you
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Sometimes I wonder what life was like for plurals of the past. By that I mean – we know of the history of asylums and social outcasting of anyone who did not fit mental or behavioral norms of the past, yes (trends that have continued, although less common and in new forms, into the modern day), maybe even sometimes of those whose plurality was/is part of their culture (so important, and yet so rarely am I able to learn about them), but what of those who flew under the radar? Those who did not know of their own plurality, or perhaps knew, but kept it secret?
How many philosophers and scientists came up with their ideas by conversing with their headmates?
What of the authors who thought speaking directly to your characters on how their story goes was a universal writing experience?
Did any plural leaders who sought the guidance of their council assume that all the advice given to them was decided upon through an internal meeting of selves, just like how they made decisions?
Were there artists who couldn't find the words to explain their drawings were of their headmates? Storytellers who told tales from their exomemories? Record keepers, secretaries, and scribes who were so good at their jobs because they had practice from having to leave records for themselves?
When and where were the plurals like us?
I see hints of potential plurals of history, sometimes – typically in discussions of the self made by poets or philosophers. And there are a few cases that stand out as evidence that we have always been here. But plurality is so often a personal experience, with any observable behavior often brushed over, shunted away from others' knowledge, or just lost in records muddled by how difficult they are to find, that it's hard to make any theories or guesses about the plurals who might have been. Especially with how we're still barely known to most people; there would have been even fewer opportunities for these plurals of the past to find themselves and words for who they are.
It's... something I think about, when I'm looking at studies or learning about history.
Did plural gentleman living in England during the Victorian era get an unexplained thrill whenever they wrote of themselves in the third person for letters, per proper etiquette? Would they have any idea why referring to themselves in the third person felt right, the same way it can feel right for systems referring to themselves by their bodily name today?
Well. How should I know?
But I hope plurals of the past were able to have moments of plural joy, too.
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Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt 2.1
Note: The writing bug bit me while wading through the comments and replies so you guys get more! 😁 Special thanks to @the-scarecrow-of-aus & @starlightcat04 for helping spark this continuation!
Also, so you're not confused, this part is from Kon's POV and backtracks to before the Bane incident to explain how Kon started going undercover in Arkham. Pt 2.2 has the Bane incident from Kon's POV.
~*~*~
When Kon got the call from Tim asking if he'd be willing to do a favor for him, he hadn't expected it to be an undercover assignment in the infamous Arkham Asylum itself.
"You want me to do what?" He asked staring at Tim in disbelief once he reached the Nest to debrief.
"Go undercover as a new guard in Arkham." Tim repeated with a deadpan expression looking over his shoulder at Kon from his computer chair. Holy fuck, his eyebags were bad.
"Have you slept in the past week, Tim?" Kon asked, taking in his best friend's appearance.
Tim frowned at the question.
"I don't see how that's relevant but yes." He answered, heartbeat unchanging. Which didn't really mean anything since it was Tim but Kon decided he'd believe him.
For now.
Kon sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Okay, I'll do it." He said. "Can you tell me why we need someone undercover at least?"
Tim eyes widened, startled by the question like he was surprised Kon didn't know yet even though Tim hadn't told him yet. Okay, deep breaths, calm down, Tim clearly hasn't slept in at least two days. Kon coached himself as his temper flared up at the evidence that Tim wasn't taking care of himself again. All the Supers agreed: sometimes you just wish you could beat some sense into the Bats and make them take care of themselves like normal human beings.
"Ah. Right." Tim said, turning back to the computer and pulling up some files as he explained. "Two thing have occured within roughly fifteen days of each other that together are rather suspicious. First, Dr. Thomas Rylie, Jonathan Crane's undergraduate roommate and classmate throughout undergrad and grad school, was hired to work as one of the new in house psychiatrists at Arkham Asylum. They also got their doctorates from the same school during the same time frame and both focused on the impact fear has on the brain. Dr. Rylie's focus was on fear conditioning and Dr. Crane's focus was on fear responses." Well, that sounds suspicious.
"Second, Gotham University lost their minds and began an undergraduate and graduate internship program partnering with Arkham Asylum."
Kon went cold. They did what?
Pictures of the Asylum, University, and three people -presumably Scarecrow, Dr. Rylie, and a young woman- filled the computer screen now.
"The internship program has only one applicant so far and she'd already started working at the Arkham. Her name is Jasmine Fenton and her background is...sparse, to say the least." Tim turned in his chair to face Kon.
"I'm too recognizable in Gotham and among the rogues to successfully go undercover in Arkham so I've set you up with an apartment and ID as 'Kyle Jennings.' You're scheduled to start work at Arkham as a new guard tomorrow morning."
"Okay," Kon said with a nod. "What do you need confirmed? What are the primary objectives?" He prodded Tim again since his friend's sleep deprived brain seemed to think that was enough information for debriefing. It wasn't. Definitely not. A lot was implied but it wouldn't be the first time Tim had completely different intentions than what Kon had understood from his briefing. Sleep deprived Tim frequently assumed others could read his mind or something. Sleep deprived Tim was wrong.
"We need to determine if Dr. Rylie is here working for Scarecrow as part of some new scheme. We need to determine if Jasmine Fenton is complicit. We need to know if Gotham U is also in on it. And we need to find out what exactly Scarecrow is the planning." Tim stated automatically as he ticked each one off on his fingers.
"Got it. Guess I'll head over to my new apartment then and start prepping for tomorrow." Kon said, heading towards the exit. Tim hummed in agreement waving a hand in his direction as he left. That dumbass was probably already absorbed in the next case. Kon sighed, hopefully Tim would at least pass out sometime later tonight.
~*~*~
Kon's first day at Arkham wasn't anything special. He didn't see Jasmine, Dr. Rylie, or Scarecrow. He didn't see any rogues or doctors at all. It was just a really Gotham kind of orientation.
"This is where we keep a cache of stun grenades, long-range scope rifles, tranquilizer rounds, and rubber bullets." His new supervisor and guide through orientation, Alex Fhizer, said as he showed Kon how to access, inventory, lock, and re-conceal the cache. "Everytime you pass by a cache on patrol, you will check the inventory again and sign off on it with the date and time. If anything is different from the previous inventory entry, you will immediately radio the tower and the island will be put on lockdown." Greyish Hazel eyes peered out of a weathered face staring Kon down. "You will never neglect to inventory a cache while on patrol. You will never neglect to report an inventory discrepancy. The first time you do you will be fired immediately and you can count yourself damn lucky if that's all that happens to you."
Fhizer was intense, man.
"Yes, Sir." Kon answered. Fhizer's hard look lasted another long moment before the older man gave a firm nod and continued showing Kon the ropes.
~*~*~
The second day was no where near as chill as the first. Hell, his brain was already starting to warp, there hadn't been anything chill about that orientation.
Kon started his second day by boarding the Arkham transport bus with the rest of the staff and early morning visitors to the island. That was where he saw Jasmine Fenton in the flesh for the first time.
She has got to be part Amazonian, was his first thought upon seeing her. She was around 6ft tall with a thick mane of red hair tightly braided reaching all the way down to her waist. Jasmine was wearing teal stud earrings, a silver bangle type bracelet on her left wrist, a white blouse, black slacks, and black flats. She carried a small, clear purse that only held a small notepad, pen, house key, chapstick, and a thin teal wallet that presumably contained her IDs, debit cards, and a small amount of cash. Damn, she was tall.
Kon's concentration was broken by the quiet sound of metal crunching slightly beneath his fingers. He immediately loosened his grip on the hand rail, checking for damage with a wince. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he saw the damage was almost entirely unnoticeable to the naked eye. He'd have to mind his strength more closely. Kon was too used to the farm and facilities that were all reinforced to handle casual use from people with super strength.
Tim's notes indicated Arkham wasn't reinforced for super strength anywhere. Not even along the outer walls. The facility had opted to use suppression collars on their meta inmates instead since they were cheaper and easier to repair and replace according to the official reports. However, Tim's notes had also mentioned that Arkham had reinforced the outer walls to account for super strength at one point. They'd poured nearly every dime the facility could spare into the project for months until the Joker himself had taken it personally. The madman had absolutely obliterated the reinforced outer walls until no part of them remained standing. Given Joker had destroyed the walls without having any meta powers at all and his history of viciously attacking -damn near mauling- anyone that tried to put him in a straight jacket, Kon didn't really blame Arkham for stopping while they were ahead.
Kon looked up as the bus jolted to a stop. The other passengers filing off around him. He watched as Jasmine Fenton was met by Dr. Rylie in front of the bus as he waited to disembark.
"Ms. Jasmine!" Dr. Rylie greeted her enthusiastically with a broad open grin and beaming eyes. He reached towards her with both arms, hands open and she reached back. Their right hands clasped as their left hands landed on the other's upper arms as the two greeted one another openly. Kon wasn't very familiar with intern-mentor relationships nor what would be considered normal or professional for them, but it looked like a rather affectionate greeting for them having been strangers two weeks ago. That was strange, wasn't it? Was Tim right to be worried about them?
"Ms. Jasmine is the first and only applicant for Dr. Rylie, Director Keener, and Dean Byle's hairbrained idea to hire more doctors for this place." One of the older guards that had been standing just behind him on the bus explained having apparently noticed Kon watching the pair.
"They just seemed rather affectionate for Gotham." Kon shrugged dismissively as he turned to look over his shoulder at his new colleague. The shorter man laughed.
"A bit, yeah." He agreed. "I think Dr. Rylie is just desperate for this program to work out." He continued as they finally managed to get off the bus. Dr. Rylie and Ms. Fenton were gone now. "Pretty much everyone's been treating her like a princess."
"That doesn't seem fair to everyone else." Kon commented, dropping back a bit to let the older man lead the way to the guards room for morning debriefing and to get their assignments. He'd already memorized the layouts but 'Kyle Jennings' shouldn't have yet.
"Who cares about fair as long as it works?" The guard answered. "If treating her like a princess scores more interns for the program in the long run, and if one intern every year ends up interested in sticking around, I'll be happy to cater to every single one of them." He confessed, stopping in the middle of the hall to turn and face Kon directly. Kon glimpsed the name Ryans as the silver name badge flashed the briefly reflecting the overhead lights. "You non-gothamites just don't get it. We're desperate for whatever help we can get."
"That's why I applied here." Kon lied. "Going to school across the bay, I heard a lot about what went down over here while I was in college. I want to help."
Ryans gave a short solemn nod then turned and led the rest of the way to the break room.
~*~*~
Day four undercover was when Kon officially met Jasmine Fenton.
Everything had been going well so far with his undercover assignment. He'd settled in to the role of Kyle Jennings, been getting along well with his new coworkers including Ryans and Fhizer, and hadn't yet managed to screw up inventorying the caches during the outer patrol loops. That being said, Kon was having other issues.
The worst part of being an unstable Kryptonian clone was that his strength tended to fluctuate. It normally wasn't much of an issue when he was surrounded by reinforced everything in his daily life but here at Arkham it was becoming a problem. Case in point, Kon thought to himself with an exhausted groan as his freshly made coffee mug shattered in his hand.
"Oh come on." He sighed snatching a handful of paper towels from the counter and bending to wipe up the coffee and ceramic shards on the floor. At least he was the only one in the room when it shattered. The door clicked softly behind him and Kon jumped twisting to look.
Jasmine Fenton stood behind him having just closed the door to the break room after entering.
"What happened here?" She asked, sounding bewildered with slightly wide eyes as she took in the mess on the floor. Thank God. She didn't see it.
"Guess I was a bit more tired than I thought." He said with a forced laugh in order to hide his nerves. "Slipped right through my fingers."
She nodded, accepting his words at face value.
"I've done that more than a few times close to finals." She admitted. "You guys have 10 hour shifts, right? You must be exhausted. When's your next day off?"
"The day after tomorrow." Kon said. "This is day 3 for me since orientation doesn't count."
"You get 2 days off followed by an on-call day, right?" She asked.
"Right," Kon agreed. "AKA 2 days of freedom and a day chained to the Bowery." He joked.
"Absolutely terrible, they may as well put an ankle monitor on you." She cracked back grinning. Kon snickered. The door opened again.
"I see you found another non-gothamite here." Dr. Rylie said striding into the break room with a wide grin.
"Sounds like that makes three of us." Kon agreed. Outside of Joker, he had never seen a gothamite grin that wide in his life.
"Dr. Thomas Rylie, a pleasure to meet you." Dr. Rylie introduced himself holding out his hand to shake. Kon shook his hand as gently as possible, mindful his strength was on the fritz.
"Kyle Jennings, nice to meet you. I just started as a guard earlier this week." He said then held his hand out to shake Jasmine's.
"Jasmine Fenton, I'm an intern therapist. This is my second week here." She greeted with a warm smile shaking Kon's hand. She didn't say anything about being glad to meet him, Kon noted. It wasn't exactly strange behavior but something made him take note of it anyway. Like by not saying it she was saying she hadn't decided whether meeting him was a good or bad thing yet. Dr. Rylie didn't seem to notice anything off with the interaction though as he went about making his own coffee. The three of them made idle small talk as they made their own coffees. Once his new cup was ready, Kon bid them both goodbye and went on his way. While they were his main objective, lingering too long this early into their aquantiantship would probably be strange.
He had several other small friendly interactions with both of them over the next few days. Taking the time for greetings, small talk, and sharing small bits of casual background info from Kyle Jennings's past to encourage them both to open up to him. He also broke a clipboard, two more coffee cups, several pens, and a doorknob during that time as his strength continued to fluctuate. The doorknob had been particularly embarrassing. He had gone to open the door for Jasmine when he saw her with her arms full of files and somehow managed to twist it in such a way that the screws holding it in place sheered off and the knob came off in his hand. Collins, his partner for building patrol that day, burst out laughing hysterically as Kon stared at the doorknob in horror.
"No worries, man." Collins said, clapping Kon on the shoulder still snickering. "Someone else probably broke it and put it back so they wouldn't get scolded or something."
"Yeah," Kon said with a nervous laugh. "That must be what happened."
Jasmine's eyes flicked between the two of them then she grinned.
"And here I thought you just really hated that door." She teased Kon. He felt his face heat up as Collins laughed at him again.
"It is an ugly door." Collins agreed enthusiastically smirking.
"Terribly ugly. Hideous even," Jasmine said with a smile.
"Possibly even traumatizing to behold," Collins continued to smirk.
"You've got me. I have a deep rooted traumatic fear of metal taupe doors." Kon deadpanned ears burning. Jasmine snickered as Kon got the door open for her and they went their separate ways.
~*~*~
"What have you found so far?" Tim asked. Kon did not have the words to express how much he didn't want to be at the Nest at 3am on his first day off from undercover work. If it was anyone other than Tim he wouldn't have even answered the phone.
"Literally nothing," Kon said dryly. "I am still the newest of newbies at Arkham. I practically spent the whole week being babysat by senior guardsmen." He sighed, reminding himself that it wasn't Tim's fault that he was a little insomniac goblin and that Kon really did love his friend and would be sad if he hurt Tim's feelings. Eventually. When he woke up again in the morning. "I did start befriending them both though. It's slow going since we're in different areas but nearly being the only non-gothamites there seems to be helping me make some headway at least."
There was one other non-gothamite on staff, a medical nurse named Sharon Earley. She was in her mid-thirties and the most sour and unpleasant person Kon had had the displeasure of meeting so far on Arkham's staff. Not that Kon could blame her for that. Not when she had several large ragged scars spanning from her chin and down both of her arms from when Zsazz had gotten hold of her alone after dark her second year at Arkham. It was a damn miracle she'd survived him. Kon didn't know how she managed it but he wouldn't try to find out either. Ryans had taken him aside right before he first met Nurse Earley and warned him not to stare or ask about any of it and then explained the bare basics of what happened to her after they'd left.
Tim probably had a file with every detail of that night as well as information about Sharon Earley's life both before and after that night somewhere on his computer. The thought made Kon nauseous.
"Good, good," Tim said absently as he updated the mission file on his computer. The keys clicked so rapidly that Kon again reconsidered whether or not his best friend had super speed. "Better to keep them from suspecting than to rush in anyway."
"Exactly."
Tim continued asking questions about every little detail he could think of concerning Dr. Rylie, Jasmine Fenton, and the rogues currently in Arkham.
"They don't let me near those guys yet. I'm too new." Kon said when Tim asked if Scarecrow looked to be plotting more than usual.
"They don't?" Tim sounded surprised, going so far as to stop typing so he could turn and stare at Kon. The clone was amused to note something about his statement had managed to wake Tim up enough to be visibly shocked instead blank-faced with exhaustion.
"Of course not," Kon answered trying to keep the amusement from his voice as much as possible. "As many times as your rogues have broken out they're leary of letting new hires near them in case they're goons in disguise."
Tim sank back into his chair looking like Kon had uprooted his whole world by proving the Earth really was flat via actual science.
"That's impossible." Tim said sounding faint. "Everytime there's a mass breakout, we always hear that some of the guards helped them escape. How?..." He trailed off, eyes darting rapidly like he was tracking lines of an invisible conspiracy board in the air in front of him. Kon shrugged, uncomfortable with this new information.
"Scuttlebutt is that the people helping them escape are visitors. The guards get blamed because the goons visit wearing clothes similar to the guard uniform from a distance. All blue polo shirts and black pants look similar at a distance." Kon explained. "It also doesn't help that the guards can't really do much to stop the escape attempts since they only have stun grenades, tranquilizer darts, batons, low voltage tazers, and rubber bullets to fight back with. So as long as enough people are involved in the escape attempt at least some of them will make it out even if the guards manage to to tranquilize several of them."
Tim still looked like Kon was blowing his mind. It was such a rare experience that Kon had to continue.
"Plus the tranquilizer darts and the rubber bullets have to be fired from different hardware." Kon told him. "Which sucks because you have to carry twice the amount of weight while chasing after the escapees which slows you down and it takes longer to swap between them."
There was something similar to mystified horror spreading across his friend's face now.
"Speaking if swapping between them, they have different ranges too." Kon continued gleefully. Half because it was fun wrecking Tim's worldview and half to actually impart the information. "Batons are short-range. Tranquilializer darts and stun grenades are mid-range. Rubber bullet riffles are long-range."
"If that's all it is, WE can fund then better gear to control the inmates." Tim interrupted turning back to the computer and swiftly typing out a list of things to send Arkham. Kon shook his head.
"That won't work." He disagreed gently. "They aren't failing because of the gear itself."
Tim turned back around to face him, confused. This was not going to be a fun conversation, Kon swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.
"The problem is that if you fire the rubber bullet riffles from mid or short range you could seriously injury or even kill the patient. If they get past mid-range, you'll miss them completely using tranquilizer darts or stun grenades. If you try to use either of those at short-range it'll be bad for you whether it's because they'll get hold of you before the tranquilizer knocks them out or because you'll stun yourself too."
Comprehension and trepidation began to dawn on Tim's face. He deflated in his chair, sinking lower and lower as he stared off into nowhere.
"You also can't hit them with more than one tranquilizer dart in a four hour window because you could accidently kill them that way. That also means even though you have a baton, you typically can't do enough damage to them to keept them from escaping because that might potentially kill them." Kon said completely solemn now as he relayed the information. "Because regardless of the reputation Arkham has or what the patients have done, it is still a hospital and they are still patients."
Tim was staring directly at Kon now. Mouth open, face slack, eyes wide with a kind of numbed shock. Kon held his gaze.
"Yeah," Kon said after a moment. "Yeah, that's how I reacted too." He looked down, picking at his nails for a moment before forcing himself to stop and meet Tim's gaze again. "Phizer, my new 'boss', made sure to drill that into my head during orientation. 'Arkham's guards exist first and foremost to protect the patients. Arkham isn't supposed to be a prison. It's a medical facility. The patients are confined to the premises because their affliction has made them dangerous and they have to stay so that we can keep them and others safe from further harm. We are here to keep the patients and staff from hurting each other, themselves, or being hurt by people outside of Arkham's walls.' Not gonna lie, man." Kon said quirking a bitter grin as his did. "Hearing that kind of fucked me up a bit."
Tim sucked in a huge heaving breath then slowly let it out before he responded.
"I can't say I ever thought about it like that." He admitted in a soft strained voice. "Can't say I ever wanted to either." There was a bitter tinge to his words.
"Yeah, neither did I." Kon answered, shoulders slumping a bit. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me? I kind of want to head back and sleep a bit."
Tim shook his head slowly.
"No, I think we're good at the moment." He said looking twice as exhausted and drained now as he did when Kon first got there. Kon nodded.
"Good night then. I'll see you later, man." He said, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning against and heading for the door.
"Be safe, Kon." Tim answered softly turning back to his computer.
#Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist#Meta Jazz#Arkham Intern Therapist#MJAIT#AIT#Meta Jazz AIT#dc x dp#dcxdp#dp x dc#dpxdc#Jazz/Kon#Eventually that's the goal anyway#Side note I do not headcanon Arkham this way#But Jazz went through her 'I can fix them' stage during high school#And in my experience most people don't try to 'fix others' again after they fail the first several times#Jack & Maddie definitely weren't fixed in this story#So I couldn't see her willingly interning at Arkham if it was actually like how it is in DCU#Since the internship program is optional#Which begged the question why everyone thinks Arkham is Like That#So Kon gave you the answer#Also sorry if he's really OOC#I have never written his POV before and finding a voice for him was hard#Tim's shit got rocked#tw: cursing#my Kon curses because he's through his rebellious stage already but linguistic habits stuck around#Oh yeah#and his powers are fluctuating because the density of the smog and cloud layer over Gotham is constantly changing#my original post
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Rivals || Jonathan Crane x reader
Synopsis: You and Crane are both fighting for the asylum's new head of the psychologist department. Pairing: Jonathan Crane x reader / Jonathan Crane x psych! reader / Scarecrow x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, unprotected sex, p in v, rivalry Notes: RUSHED, there will be lots of grammatical errors. Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLIST Click here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST
Today is the important day of your career. The head medical chief will now announce who will be the head of the psychology department.
You were working for nearly 5 years in Gotham's asylum, Arkham Asylum. You've seen many patients; juveniles, sadists, serial killers, and other more. It wasn't easy at first but slowly, you got the hang of it, being able to adjust the unusual environment of the hospital.
You had barely any interaction with anyone else when you were an intern except for Jonathan Crane. He was your age, a fellow psychologist committed to helping Arkham Asylum's needy patients. Your relationship with Crane developed with shared experiences and shared loyalty, creating a firm connection during the psychological obstacles of the asylum.
The pressure between you and Crane was intense and serious considering there were just the two of you. You will both keep track of the number of patients you see each day, the number of consultations and interviews you do, and of course, the journey toward becoming the department head of psychology.
Now, the both of you standing in front of the head chief resident, waiting for him to announce the result.
Even though you appeared calm and collected on the outside, there was a stream of anxiousness running through you. Jonathan Crane was just as calm as you were, but in opposite to you, he was so confident and at relaxed that there was no trace of nervousness.
"Doctor Crane, Doctor (Y/n), I want to say that the both of you did a wonderful job here as Arkham's psychology resident. I saw both of your performance since your first day and I can see the massive progress that you guys done for the past 5 years," the head chief resident said, lowering down the papers that contained both of your performances and records.
"Thank you, chief." a smile was plastered on your face as you thanked the chief resident.
"You both did an excellent job. I hereby congratulate our new chief..," the chief resident slowly announced, making your heart flutter, a wave of anxiety rushed over your spine.
"Doctor Jonathan Crane,"
Your eyes widened. You looked at your workmate, his eyes glowing as he shook the hands of the chief resident, thanking him.
You were left cashing by the shock that went through you like a voltage, and your hopes were buried in a deep sense of disappointment. A dream set back in the face of unexpected defeat, the pain of longing for this desired position, grown throughout your time at Arkham, suddenly seemed to resonate down the corridors of your mind.
Jealousy was starting to spin all over you as you shook Crane's delicate hand, muttering a 'congratulations'. You left the office after, giving the both of them privacy as they started a new conversation about Crane's new responsibilities and duties to the hospital.
Your gloomy walk echoed through the asylum's corridors. You immediately walked to your office and harshly opened and closed the door.
"What the fuck!" you yelled loudly in frustration Your palms curled up together like a ball. "What the fuck do you mean that Jonathan got the position and not me?" slapping your wooden table harshly as you threw a big tantrum.
"Fuck you, Jonathan!"
Good thing that your office was soundproof so all the staffs and patients passing by won't hear a single sound of you bursting into frustration.
Your tantrum stopped when you heard a knock on your office's door. Assuming it was the head chief resident, you fixed your hair and your outside, composing yourself.
You opened the door with a smile but it was gone after you see who it was-- Jonathan Crane.
"What are you doing here, Crane?" you spitted, your arms folding each other on your chest.
"May I come in?" he asked.
"Fine," you groaned in annoyance, opening the door widely so he can enter your lightly-dimmed office.
He scanned your office, looking at the picture frames on the hanged shelf, books that were neatly stored beside your frames, and your Ph.D and awards that hanged over the white walls of the office.
"Now, what do you want, Crane?" you asked again, sitting in front of the wooden table, both arms still locked in your chest together, your eyes piercing through his.
"I just want to congratulate you for having the chance to compete for the position," he teased, a small grin plastered on his soft cheeks.
"Oh fuck off, Jonathan. Yeah, I got it, you got the position," you rolled your eyes, getting angry and annoyed every time Crane breathes.
"Won't you congratulate me, (Y/n)?" he asked, moving closer and closer to you, until your faces were only centimetres apart.
"Fuck no! Just go and flex your position to somebody else because I don't care about you,"
Your response made him chuckle. He took a deep breath as he adjusted his clear eyeglasses. "Mhm, I don't think so. You care about me. You have feelings for me, don't you?"
Your eyes grew wide at what he said. Was he aware that you like him? He's your rival, and you were beginning to feel something for him. He's a perfect man - well for you. He's good looking, smart, and works with you but you kept it as a secret, ashamed that you're in love with someone you compete with. His words caused you blushing leaving you speechless.
"I - What? Funny, Jonathan. I don't even like yo-"
"Not according to your journal here," he cut you off, he took a small brown notebook out of the pocket of his blazer, showing it you.
Then you realized what it was: it's your missing journal book. You remembered leaving it at your desk a week ago but after that, it just suddenly disappeared like that. You kept on finding it, you searched everywhere, your apartment, your bag, your office, your cabinets: none.
"Where'd you get that! Give it back!" you gasped, attempting to grab it from his hand but he sways his arm back further away.
"God look at this. You were imagining stuffs like this huh? Lusty images and scenarios of me," he teased, opening the journal and scanned the pages.
"Fuck you, Jonathan," you cursed.
"If that's what you want," he said before he crashed his lips to yours. Tasting every spot in your lips. You gasped at the sudden action but it was true, you fantasized about this.
You returned the passionate kiss, wrapping your arms over his neck and then his now messy hair, pushing your lips deeper to him.
His tongue traveled deeper into your tempting mouth, the passionate kiss becoming more messier and messier. His hand held tightly to your delicate body, pulling you closer him. Your lips softly moaned, each one begging for the kiss to get even hotter and more intense. You could feel the heat building as you both gave in to the burning desire that was dominating over.
Crane's lips started to trail down on your neck, kissing the sweet and sensitive spots all over, earning a loud moan from you.
"You know, I fantasized about this too," he confessed, sucking your sweet spot that will likely leave a mark. Your back arched, your cunt getting more and more wet. "It's just that I don't write about it."
"Oh god, Jonathan," you moaned. His hands found your tight long sleeve shirt, unbuttoning it one by one. Crane tossed your shirt on the floor, continuing kissing you.
"Look at you. So fucking sexy," he said, your breasts now exposed after he unhook your bra only using two of his fingers.
Crane's trousers stretched out revealing his bulge and how he was hard already. In not much time at all, you unfastened his belt and took off his underwear, causing his hard cock to spring out, pre-cum leaking all over it.
"See what you did to me?"
"I need you, Jonathan," you begged, showing how wet you were when you removed your trousers. Your black panties were now stained with wetness.
He removed your panties with his soft hands before aligning his cock into your hole. "So wet for me, huh?" his tip teasing your wet and impatient hole as you moaned softly.
"Please.." you begged, getting more and more impatient.
He slowly entered you, earning a low grunt from him. Stretching your small hole as you took him.
"You're so tight, fuck," he cursed, starting his pace slow. His cock pushing in and out of your needy cunt, letting you a loud moan.
"Is this what you imagine me doing to you? Fucking you? Taking my cock?" he asked, his hands gripped your hips harshly as his pace fastened. A small dash of sweat was starting to form on his forehead as he grunt out loud from the sensation.
"Yes - oh god, Jonathan!" moaning, your eyes shut as you rolled your head back, taking him deeper and deeper. Allowing him to penetrate all the sensitive spots down there.
All you experienced was nothing but pleasure. You felt a rush feeling of thrill wash over you, seeing only sparkles. A huge mess was made as your skin flapped loudly, the table moved around, and some of your materials items fell off the table.
"Look at me while I'm fucking you, sweetheart." Crane hissed, harshly gripping your jaw to make you look at him.
His pace was immeasurable. The sound of his and your skin slapping together echoed inside the room as you let out a series of pornographic moans.
"Good thing your office is soundproofed," he laughed. "You don't want them to hear you moan while I fuck you, huh?"
Crane's right hand gripped your thighs, giving him support as he fucked you harshly.
In a short while, you felt your orgasm starting to form. Your legs trembling as you locked his back with it, allowing him to penetrate deeper at your sensitive spots.
His icy-like eyes met yours, mesmerizing him. His eyes. His mouth. His jaw line. Everything, admiring him.
"Jo - Jonathan, I'm close.." you breath shaking, feeling your orgasm coming near and nearer.
"Yeah? Come then, cum on my cock, love," his pace remained fast. His grunts were getting louder and louder.
After a few more thrusts, your orgasm came and so did his, staining the inside of walls with his seed as he came inside. The both of you continuously let out a few grunts and moans while reaching your high.
He didn't pulled out until every drop of his cum pours inside of you. The both of you pant hard, your cunt clenching on his hard cock.
"I like you, Jonathan," you confessed.
"Oh sweetheart, you belong to me," he said, pulling out slowly before he kissed you again but this time he did it passionately.
"I'm still mad at you for getting my desired position," you admitted, glaring at his sweet features as he chuckled with your response.
"Well, I can request the chief to make 2 psychologist the heads of our department," he remarked. "But before that, let me.. enjoy what belongs to me."
#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane#scarecrow#scarecrow smut#scarecrow x reader#batman#x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut
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An Open Letter to Dan and Phil
Dear beloved nerds,
This was originally going to be an (even longer) actual letter that I was going to give to you at the tour, but my nonprofit-employed ass can’t afford a meet and greet, so we’re doing this instead. I promise it’s not just trauma dumping— mostly, it’s about saying thank you and trying to cultivate some hope for all of us.
I’ve been a big fan since around 2014, when I was a mentally ill neurotic deeply repressed loner egg (average phannie, let's be honest). Now I’m a whole adult who got therapy and HRT and has joined the legions of transmascs with the Dan Howell haircut! What a legacy.
I’m making jokes because the thing I actually want to talk about, and the reason I decided to make this an open letter, is kind of serious. But in light of the election, I feel like I need to share this, both with you and with all the other queers in this little corner of the internet.
Here’s the gist: I’m a paralegal at a non-profit organization that works to help queer migrants get asylum. Mostly what I do is sit them down in our nasty sterile office and try to be kind, and help them get through telling me all the most terrible things that have happened to them, and then turn around and pare it all down into legalese that is digestible to the government to make the case they should get asylum.
It’s a horrible job, really, and one that shouldn’t have to exist. Some parts are plainly wonderful, like meeting so many queer people from all walks of life. But it’s also heartrending and difficult, and burnout is always looming. My horrible banal work is often literally a matter of life and death for the client, and I’m fighting a broken system for a chance at giving them the happiness and safety is owed to them by international law and, really, by any decent human standard, should never have been in question.
The thing is—and this is reason to hope—queer people really do exist everywhere, no matter how much repression and violence we face. In a tiny village in Colombia, there's a kid who’s all spit and vinegar, dresses like a boy and plays football and fights anyone who says that they can’t, who grows up wiry and gets black eyes because men still can’t handle getting their asses handed to them on the soccer field by a dyke. This client texts me at my work number sometimes to ask if I’ve eaten that day, because they wanted to check in on me. He asked me to call him by a boy’s name, recently. I don’t know that he’s told anyone else. I open every message I send him with "Hola, James."
Then there’s the sweet, babyfaced college freshman who got death threats when he was outed to his classmates back home, and whose parents kicked him out when he refused to marry a girl to protect the family's reputation, leaving him alone in a foreign country. He was couch surfing and just trying not to miss class so he could keep his student status and he was so conscientious I wanted to cry— he’s eighteen, guys. Eighteen. I’ll get him his papers or so help me fucking God I will kill for him. You know? You know. After that meeting I had to sit at my desk with my notebook and fill an entire blank page with the phrase “he’s just a kid,” over and over again, until I felt like I could breathe.
On a Friday morning recently I get up and open my laptop to interpret on a call with a soft-spoken older trans woman who's sat in the bleak phone room of the ICE detention facility because her immigration judge didn’t believe that she was really transgender. “An odor of mendacity pervades everything the respondent says,” the judge wrote in her ruling, where she determined the client wasn't "credible." To this day I’m still floored that she straight up ripped off Tennessee Williams—new frontiers in bigotry, truly. She didn’t even cite. In our meeting now, the client quietly tells us how hard it was when she came out but how happy she was the first time she wore makeup, and she'd rather stay in detention here for indeterminate years as proceedings spiral on than go back to Guatemala, where they'll kill her—boys, if I ever get within spitting distance of this fuckass judge, it is on SIGHT. Absolutely fucking ON SIGHT. For legal purposes, that was a JOKE.
So I finish the call and get up to get a snack. It’s only ten am but feel tired already because I’m angry, which is not unusual but also not something I want to hold onto, because it doesn't help anything. So I make some toast and look at my phone— two texts, which I ignore, a spam email, and, wouldn't you know it, a YouTube notification from Dan and Phil games! Jarring! That’s just sort of how life is though, isn’t it? Deathly serious and lighthearted in the same breath.
But regardless, seeing the notification makes me feel warm, so I have my toast and watch a little video of you two playing Roblox or dress up or whatever it is you do on that channel these days. I have a good giggle and I finish my toast and go back to my desk. It’s a crucial part of my diet really— the giggles, not the toast. I’m not angry anymore. I’ll be angry again, but for now my cortisol levels are manageable and I can put my head back into emails or whatever the fuck. Do you ever think about how plants make food for free out of sunlight but we sit around writing emails all day? And that’s if we’re lucky. Capitalism is hell.
Anyway, there is a point I am trying to make, and it’s not really about the banal horrors of neoliberal nation-state or capitalism or even homophobia. It’s to say thank you for coming back to make silly videos together, because I love them, and you never fail to make me happy. And yeah, maybe something about the story of that scared eighteen-year-old kid at the front of my mind makes it particularly sweet to watch you two goofing off and being openly queer. It reminds me why I’m doing what I’m doing, and it gives me the strength to send another fucking email because sometimes doing “important work that I value and believe in deeply” means having to send another fucking email. And sometimes I’ll rewatch your older videos, and then come back to the more recent ones, and my heart bruises, because you remind me what I’m fighting for and why. It’s nothing grandiose, it’s just— for queer people to get to have the ability to grow into themselves and be outrageous and silly and make mistakes and to love and be loved for who they are. To have the safety and support and security that no one should ever go without. That’s all.
So I am being dead serious when I say thank you for making top-tier light entertainment, and for coming back to a job that wasn’t always kind to you, and that it does actually matter. All this talk about terrible influences and legacies has made me think that sometimes you doubt whether you do good in the world, so let me be clear: you really, really do. I kind of get the sense that in order to accept sincerity Dan needs to be beat over the head with it, so if that’s the case, consider yourself coerced, you dickhead. You matter to me, and especially in times like these, I think I speak for all of us when I say that the joy you share is a precious and treasured gift. So please accept my gratitude in return.
All my love,
Jules
(I removed or changed all identifying information in this letter to protect privacy, but the stories are real).
#tldr: dnps queer joy helps me stay afloat and avoid burnout while trying to help other queer people#and its essential like food and water#I would love if people would consider circulating this because it's also a sentiment I want to share with the whole community really#though it's a bit heavy so I understand if you don't feel up for that.#I genuinely get so much joy out of being a weird freak online with all you guys#and im glad these spaces have helped me accept myself#and helped me survive#and i know i'm not the only one#dan and phil#dan howell#phan#phil lester#dnp#i wonder if dan and phil know that whenever my friends are feeling down i send them the wiggly line emoji
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Deep in my ff7 rereads so here are my favourite fandom fics, hands down.
End as you mean to begin <- 130k+ of time travelling cloud parenting the remnants, seeking asylum in a war torn wutai to keep all four of them out of shinras hands while sephiroth is absolutely Going Through It in midgar. Great Genesis characterisation and cloud mothering his way to an international incident. Bonus gender hijinks, hilarious misunderstandings and zack. Unfinished.
The fear of falling stars <- 500k+ and soon to be completed. Cloud and insane!Sephiroth time travel back to their shinra days and I cannot emphasise enough how much cloud is Not Doing Well. Gorgeous wordplay and top tier banter. Utterly unhinged blood enemies to ??? to ?????? to lovers sefikura. It's E rated and probably the tensest I've ever been reading fic lol, it is not lighthearted! But it's incredibly well written and the characters are phenomenal (zack my beloved) so if you've got strong nerves (and like a quarantine pairing) I'd definitely recommend it.
Voice of the gods <- 170k+ of almost idyllic gods and avatars au. Slow, soft and full of world building, it's a lovely relaxing read of cloud getting anointed the envoy of sephiroth, god of war, and slowly growing into his role and joining the ranks of envoy. Lots of side characters take larger roles here, and sephiroth himself is a darling without losing his sharpest edges. Unfinished.
I CAN FIX HIM (series) <- possibly my favourite sephiroth characterisations ever. 130k and growing of pure shaking this man like a doll in a perfect mix of almost delirious crack and gutting angst (often both at once!). Very good writing, every single funny moment hits like a truck and keeps building until you're choking with laughter. Bonus points to ROADTRIP! for being utterly, utterly insane. I cannot emphasise enough just how GOOD every single character and their dynamics are written.
Just anything ff7 written by AimeeLouWrites, if you've been in this fandom for any length of time you'll have heard of her. Great concepts, great executions and aus for DAYS.
Five hearts to make him whole <- 130k+ of time/dimension travelling cloud getting sent to a world of soulmates - and his alternate self bagged all four soldier firsts. Alternate cloud also died violently a few years ago and boy did those soulmates (not) take it well. Our cloud, of course, was not read in on any of this. Shout out to the emotional support chocobo! Unfinished?
Shall I find rest <- another soulmate agszc (?) dimension cross but this one is 100k+ of post AC cloud and Tifa waking up and deciding to make it everyone else's problem. They're so done with all the drama. Bamf nibel duo to the end and Tifa is the mvp. Unfinished.
Advanced release <- 250k+ and it's sephiroth receiving the original game in a strange packet that appeared in his room. It spirals into a messy and painful exposure of conspiracy, lies and inevitable tragedy. Video game logic is a running gag and zack remains the only actually stable person in the whole sorry mess but he's also Having a Terrible Experience. Really well written!!! Unfinished.
On broken wings <- 160k+ of pure post AC sephiroth redemption from his pov. Him struggling to find his place in a new world and experience real human connection evolves into MOOGLE EMBASSY need I say more?? Unfinished.
With Great Power Comes Meddling Fucking Gods <- 470k+! Poly WEAPON cloud gets yoinked back to the past (feat agzs), dies for a few days and misses his family SO bad but he is determined to change the future for the better. Probably the most healthy and mature cloud ever lol. Unfortunately for him, insane!sephiroth is pulling a inner hollow and gaia herself isn't talking. If you like symbolism, whoo boy!! The dream sequences are a DOOZY (and drowning in eroticism). Wonderfully written, the divide between sane!sephiroth and his counterpart is really cool to see. E rated at times but it's absolutely DELIGHTFUL and WEAPON cloud is such a treat. And I cannot emphasise enough the symbolism. Zackkura (kinda) and slow burn! Unfinished.
A brand need not be seen <- 180k+ in a world of soulmates where the four firsts have clouds name on their wrists. Trooper cloud is tentatively, desperately hopeful. Then a smoking hot op af adult cloud appears, with no names on his wrists at all. It's a really cute flirty fic despite covering shinra politics, identity crises, huge self worth issues, lots of trauma, and finding your own place in the world. Unfinished.
Memory's struggle <- 250k+ of cascading time travel. Basically everyone goes back, which goes great XD. Everyone... Except cloud. I read this a while ago but I do remember poor cloud just getting loved and spoiled by literally everyone and freaking out about it lmao. He was so confused! Unfinished.
Additional edit:
A solitude of space <- a wonderfully soothing 90k complete of sephiroth getting resurrected and moving to stardew valley to become the farmer. It's sooooo peaceful and following him as he grows into his own person and experiences real normality and community is lovely, if a touch angsty. Eventual sefikura with cloud moving to the farm when he's not doing deliveries. It's just. Really nice. I think I cried at the end. Finished!
One-Winged Angel's Self-Saving System <- 55k+ sephiroth enters the Chinese fantasy Scum Villain world in place of the scum villain himself! (He's the third person to take on that role, but who's counting?) Reborn into a plant body he's set loose on an unsuspecting world with a completely different magic system (sentient swords! Immortality!), with only the guide of a mysterious hallucinated ai. Freedom to make his own choices! Aroallo seph rep! He messes up the plot so bad, recruiting accidental love interests with kill counts and resurrecting long lost immortals. It can get a bit heavy but it's really fun and sephiroth has no intention of ever going back. Unfinished.
The SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun <- 73k+ of the opposite of the last fic: the scum villain (the 2nd) gets isekai'd into sephiroth! Shen qingqiu, aka the modern world native shen yuan, fails to resurrect into his prepared plant body and wakes up in a new fictional world, once again as the villain. With his limited memory of the games and his immense knowledge of cultivation (scum villains magic system) he tries to get a grasp on his new life while evading hojo, the president, his new subordinates and the war front while cultivating to immortality - something shinra is VERY interested in. When I tell you these two fics have a GRIP on me. I've written so many fic ideas around them. It's actually insane. The first thing he does is completely redecorate his rooms and buy a whole new wardrobe, which is totally not suspicious XD. Unfinished.
The fifth act <- 160k, it's a good ol' time travel fic - with a twist. The truest exploration of ripples in a pond, or how kindness, when true, can be returned in most unexpected ways. Or maybe how a single act of good can change the world.... Or maybe it's about how you must never turn your back on an enemy. Cloud has people to save and people to kill, and only time will tell which is which. Complete.
Of Things That May Be Only 'Verse <- another series! At 250k, it's about sephiroth resurrecting, only to, uh, slip and crack his head lol. This sends him spiralling through a vision of a cosy life he'd never dreamed, and when he wakes up? He wants it so bad. But that means behaving. Slow burn sefikura redemption, side Cid/Vincent (vincid?) which ngl did convince me of the ship, domestic fluffiness and found family galore! And the whole series is complete!!
Little seph <- a 160k series about the AC sephiroth revival going wrong. Stuck in the body of a kid, post AC sephiroth is a feral kitten carefully domesticated with the power of pancakes, wing preening, and deeply uncomfortable sleepovers. He's a brat, a pest, a murder machine, but he just wants to be part of a family even if he pretends he doesn't. Eventual sefikura, and overall just a very good read. Fully complete!
We are no heroes <- 70k series, about a secretly time travelled sephiroth desperately trying to save his friends and finally, maybe, rest. When I tell you this had me SOBBING. I was BAWLING. Extremely good, zack is best boy. This man is just so tired. Beautiful descriptions. And, again, complete! Yay!
#ff7#ffvii#I love all these fics and there's more where that came from lmao#Why does fic reccing take so long this took me two HOURS ToT#I'm so tired orz#People who only tag for complete miss out on SO much good stuff it's unreal#fic recs#fic rec#Ff7 fic recs#sephiroth#cloud strife#sefikura#Zackura#Yes they're all 100k+ I love short stuff but long fic is a different experience
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I have a request to make if you’re willing. Platonic yandere lamia shinobu x child reader please.
Yandere Lamia Shinobu Kocho x Child Reader
War is a terrible place for a child
Even if they’re blindly motivated to help the cause
Shinobu has always thought this but she was also aware that desperate times called for desperate
Hence her early employment as a battle field nurse
Through a series of successes and coincidental massacres
She’s earned her position of a commanding general
Instructing her scientists and exploring her power with chemical warfare
All while strategizing for her army against the enemy lines
Being a lamia in this kind of environment was helpful
The muscle gave her the extra edge above her human compatriots
making her a valuable asset
One that needed to be contacted frequently
“I-I huff huff am h-here huff huff for Miss Sh’nbu!”
The entire camp practically swooned when they saw the young messenger waddle into camp
There were other young messengers
Much faster
Much more outspoken about their dreams to become a soldier or pilot one day
But not you
Not you
“Uh I h-heard this huff helps people. S-so I’ll just try my best.”
When she first met you she immediately wanted to fire you
You were far too small
Legs too short
And all the huffing you were doing made her nervous
“How was your trip, little (Y/n)?”
"It was uh okay, here’s your letter by the way.”
“...Those cuts on your knees…”
“I just tripped a little, I’m okay!”
But how could she
Even the apathetically smiling mad lamia scientist couldn’t deny you
As soon as you tiredly ended up curling into her
She’s determined
Whether she makes you an intern or even an errand runner
She couldn’t leave you in the position you were in
She looks into your parents
Finding them to be a struggling couple that sent you to work
It irks her when she convinces you to let her do blood work and she finds so many horrible diseases beginning to sprout
Of course she wants to cure them…
But the medical expenses are so much and your family can’t afford that
“How about we make a deal? If you relinquish your parental rights to me I’ll be happy to care for them.”
If they don’t immediately hand you over she’s going to get a lot less nice
How impudent
A lamia helping the weaker humans and they can’t do this one thing for her
It just proves her right when they begin to mentally decline
And once the proper authorities agree they’re just not fit to be out of an asylum
You’ll be placed in her care
It’s probably even more of a wrecking ball if you’re life if your reading it out
“Young messenger (Y/n), we regret to inform you….oh.”
“There There (Y/n) here have some tea its sure to relax you.”
“Uh thanks Miss Sh’nbu…”
“If you’d like you can call me Mom.”
Whatever refusal you can articulate fades with the floaty feeling that comes after having a sip of her tea
Being the medicinal genius she is she’ll make sure her dearest human baby will have no problem fitting into their new life
Now some of her generals will have noticed
The odd amount of time Kocho spends with the asylum director or the little human she wraps her tail around
“A war is no place for a child!” They’ll protest
“How can she? Caring for a human child?” They whisper
So with a single whip of her tail and a smile that threatens to disappear
She holds her sleeping child to her chest
“You’re absolutely right about that one thing. A war is no place to raise a child…therefore I’ll just have to end this one quickly.”
Dictatorship, absorbing other branches of the army, or creating an ultimate weapon that only she can use or even defecting to the other side if necessary
This war will end so she can devote all her time to raising you
You’ve run so far
And you’re just so young
She promises she’ll prioritize your well-being and her happiness with you
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere shinobu#yandere platonic#yandere platonic shinobu kocho#yandere kny#yandere kny x reader#yandere kimetsu no yaiba#yandere demon slayer#yandere platonic kny#yandere platonic demon slayer#yandere x child reader
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DPXDC FENTONS IN GOTHAM AND MISCELLANEOUS
TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES
DP FIC REC HOME POST
let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any
FENTONS WORKING IN GOTHAM
Stalling T 2,363
Just a perfectly normal conversation between Arkham's newest psychiatrist, and its most troublesome resident. In the staff parking lot. During a jailbreak. How she walks out of this alive is a question even the Batman himself wants answered.
Who's Afraid Of Who? G 611 SERIES
Someone gives Jazz the wrong interrogation room number. Now she goes to visit a certain Dr. Crane...The station officers realize the error in the files when visiting the other resource, 1 hour later it's too late. By the time they arrive at the interrogation room, they find...Dr Jasmine Nightingale became an expert on the mind to help people. That included almost all of Gotham's worst offenders. Dr Crane, aka Scarecrow, is about to find out more first hand.
Danny The Intern T
Danny decided to intern at Wayne Enterprise. He's always so helpful, and polite, and gets the job done. He gets REALLY confused when his co-workers start acting weird: they would either pull him into another room; or make him do some outlandish task so far away, or a group of people suddenly surround him. It’s as if they are trying to hide him from someone. Meanwhile, there is an unspoken agreement amongst the employees: Rule #4: DO NOT LET ANY WAYNES SEE HIM. Otherwise, they are going to lose their most helpful intern (and hopefully a permanent employee) because of those damn Wayne’s adopting addictions. Though of course, it wasn’t long until they messed up Rule #4.
Trivia Night G
Danny gets a job at some underground bar as one of the tenders there. The problem? He wasn’t informed that Gotham’s most dangerous villains would frequently go out for drinks, using said bar to do so. And naturally, through the power of tired college student and brunt-out hero, he manages to gain favor of all of them. So much so that they begin including him on planning heists, kidnappings, etc
Just Another ̶L̶A̶ Gotham Devotee~ T
Danny didn't expect much after leaving Amity and his vigilante career for a job at Wayne Tech R&D. All he wanted was a decent roof over his head, non ecto-contaminated food in his fridge, and maybe to stop getting thrown into buildings so often. Hell, he'd even negotiate that last point if it kept the Bats of his back. Unfortunately, fate has never been kind. Ancients, he needs a vacation.
Specter Of The Month T
Far from Amity and those who'd follow, Danny does the only sensible option to make money and watch over his sister. Apply to become an Arkham Asylum security guard. When breakout rates drop and Penguin's released spouting rumors of a ghost haunting BlackGate, a certain Tim Drake grows curious.
Gotham's Ghostly Bartender T
Danny after revealing to his parents he is Phantom and taking his place as King of the Infinite Realms, decides to try his luck as human opening a nightclub in Gotham. It´s going great until he attracts the attention of the Bats because he can´t help going feral on the Joker everytime he finds him on the city
Help! My Teacher's A Mad Scientist NR
wherein Danny is a metalwork teacher at Gotham academy and ends up subbing for Tim's chemistry class. Measurements are just suggestions.
Pitch-Dark Shades T
Danny Fenton is trying to build a new life in Gotham after closing up the connections to the Ghost Zone. Not that all connections are entirely broken, still being able to perceive shades and give them strength when he connects to one of their prized objects. Tim Drake is trying to find his own place in the world, focusing on becoming a better detective by solving cold cases in his spare time. When Tim and Danny meet, a new (begrudging) partnership starts to bloom to solve even the hardest of cases. Or it would if only they told each other the truth.
New Job, Who's This? T 8,000 SERIES
Danny has an interview with the Engineering Team at Wayne Enterprises. He gets a job, but not where he expected.
Those Who Serve. T
Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need.
A Matter Of Opinion M 13,096
Jasmine Fenton goes down a different path in her attempt to care for her brother. Unfortunately, she could not stop her parents from taking her brother apart. Now, his core is slowly rebuilding his body from infancy, and someone has to pay for letting the Anti-Ecto Acts exist. When she bites off more than she can chew, she learns how to grow bigger teeth, and hunts down bigger prey.
The Curious Case Of D. Grayson T
Dick Grayson gets a job in Wayne Industries as an electrical engineer, or so is the word. Except it's not Dick who gets the job but Danny Grayson, half ghost and professional disaster. Of course, because nothing is ever easy for Danny, the world mistakes him for the prolific first child of Bruce Wayne and therefore rumours start Dick Grayson got married in secret. What could possibly go wrong, am I right?
Penny Two T 6,822
Alfred decides to hire Danny Fentom as an assistant butler. Bruce is uncertain about having a new person in his house.
He Can See Ghosts Because He’s A Medium, Obviously NR SERIES
But no, what convinced him he’s in a different dimension are the ghosts. They’re nothing like the ghosts from the infinite realms, more like stereotypical ghosts kids who were raised normally believe in. The ones no one can see except in the flickering of lights, something falling when it shouldn’t, a strange noise or even sometimes a shadowy figure. But not for Danny, cause of course he can’t be normal. To him these ghosts look like every other living person around him. Or Danny gets trapped in the DC universe, specifically Gotham, and decides since he can see ghosts here he may as well use it. Or or Danny the medium!
Ghost In The Morgue M
There's something off about the new Medical Examiner for the Gotham City Police Department. Danny Fenton, now working for the G.C.P.D. is good at his job. Very good. His reports are always done promptly and accurately. Scarily accurate. His "unofficial reports" even more so, listing details the medical examiner shouldn't know. He's an oddity, and oddities in Gotham attract Bats.
Mondays, Am I Right? T 2,681 SERIES
There was a long silence. He heard his sister breathe in, breathe out, like she was mentally preparing herself to say something. “I… I heard, from other interns I talked to, that guard positions are always open. And that it’s super easy to get in.”
Unnerving T
There's a new doctor at Arkham Asylum, and with the new doctor came a new security guard. Or, Jazz decided to work in Arkham and now it's everyone's problem.
Arkham Phantom: The Cryptic Security Guard NR
Danny becomes a security guard at Arkham.
Graveyard Shift NR
He moved slowly through the dark hall as the alarms blared and flashed, his eyes cutting through the dark. Where. Where did he go? He pauses at a sound, glancing down the left hall as a masked group crouches and goes still. Not paying them any mind, he pays more attention to the blue smoke that finds its way out his throat, curling around his face before trailing off down the hall. He starts walking again. He has someone to find. With barely a thought he slowly fades from the visible spectrum as he continues down the straight hall.
Shrike T
Danny Fenton starts a new life in Gotham but ghosts keep following him, forcing him to return as Phantom to try and keep them in control. The Bats are trying to hunt down the new meta due to the destruction he causes. In his civilian life, Danny finds himself being questioned about his background and knowledge of technology when he wins a full ride scholarship and fellowship from Wayne Enterprises. Both sides of his life ends crumbling before him.
DANNY IN GOTHAM
Wait, I'm A What? T
after Clockwork dropped of Danny in Gotham he tries to make the best out of the situation which includes helping out some people. Except along the way that led to rumors that he was an up-and-coming crime boss. A rumor he was largely unaware of.
Wait! I’m A Cartoon Over Here!?! T
A new vigilante group had been working the rounds. Every rogue or villain they came across for the past week got defeated in seconds. Bruce has been aging like a fly due to the stress of trying to catch them. Everyone else wishes to meet and get their autographs. While Damian and Dick can’t figure out why this group's actions, tools, and abilities feel so familiar. That is until Damian gets saved by a teen with snow-white hair and glowing green eyes. Damian just got saved by a cartoon character Dick and he watches regularly. Meanwhile, Danny and the gang got dumped into the DC Universe. They are familiar with the comics, shows, and movies, they know what’s up, and they can survive! They plan not to draw too much attention. Maybe help a person here or there? get an autograph or ten? But, definitely find a way back home. That plan fails immediately, and now, they’re a vigilante group with a dumb name. But, as long as they stay in the shadows, they should be fine! That all changes when Danny saves Robin and learns something very important yet terrifying.
Cry Of The Mourning Dove T
Danny's made it this far from Amity. An alley way, somewhere in Gotham city. He had a goal, but he's so injured... He's not sure he's gonna find who he needs to find. Red Robin and Red Hood find him first. A kid. Bleeding green. With Bruce Wayne's face.
Bus To Nowhere T
Is it running from your problems if your problems consider you to be a dead imprint of consciousness that killed their son? Yes, but Danny tries not to think about how his nightmares of his parents trying to kill him came true when they found out he was Phantom. After being on the run from his parents and the government for a couple of months, moving from town to town, Danny ends up in Gotham City and decides to risk staying in Batman's territory. He'd take the wrath of Batman over live vivisection via beloved parents or being studied and torn apart by the government. Besides, he's not a meta. Being dead is a medical condition.
Change In Management T SERIES
Desperate for energy to sustain herself and her city, Gotham tries to consume Phantom but loses and instead bequeaths her mantle to him as she destabilizes. This has some interesting consequences as Danny now finds himself inexplicably linked to a crime-ridden city in another dimension.
In The Dead Of Night T
Danny's life has never been normal. One night he is thrust into a situation he never wanted and certainly didn't ask for. Now lost, alone, and injured in an unfamiliar city, he must rely on the help of strangers in the forms of Gotham City's vigilantes, and the family of Bruce Wayne. In order to survive and keep himself out of the hands of an insane cult that is desperately seeking out a power far greater than anyone should have.
Thirty-Odd Days Of Chasing An Enigma T
Danny and the Batfam play hide and seek and tag, all on the palm of Danny's hand, while he tries to gain some much needed balance after a reveal gone bad.
Anarchic T 5,585 SERIES
Danny Fenton is set free on another world, he really should've taken the "No consequences" claim with a pinch of salt
Hatred At First Sight G 1,304
The residence of Gotham were used to rogue attacks and most didn't bat an eye to the extravagance that was the Joker even as everyone watching as he live filmed his assault on the bank in a numb kind of horror that you could only acquire through exposure. He was holding a bunch of hostages, asking the watchers what he should do with them with a wide unhinged smile and maliciously gleeful eyes that watched his many victims squirm in terror. Until he looked at the skrunky kid in a ratty hoodie that looked like he could be a Wayne adoptee. And both froze for a good minute. And like some kind of demented switch got flipped the kid snarled and (still with his hands tied behind his back mind you) launched himself at the Joker.
Danny's Guide To Not Dying Alone On The Street G
After his parents chase him out of the city, Danny finds his way to Gotham to stay out of the eye of the GIW or any other ghost hunters who might be interested in him. After he accidentally shows his powers in a very public setting, can he avoid the ghosts of his past and the ever-increasing number of Gotham Vigilantes interested in him?
Run Ghost Run NR
Danny escaped from the GIW and his parents, but he had to keep running. If those in the infinite realm found out what happened war would happen. Clockwork said to follow the birds and bats whatever that means. For now, he would just hide in Gotham. No one would look for him there.
Gotham's Haunted G
Five times Danny Surprised a Batkid and that one time he was forcefully adopted by Bruce Wayne.
No Laughing Matter NR
Danny kills the Joker, not knowing of the kill switch set to release Joker gas the moment Jokers heart stops beating
Taking Flight T
Danny decides to tell his parents the truth. It doesn't go so hot. Fleeing Amity Park for his life he decides Gotham is the best place to fall through the cracks. Sadly as a black-haired blue-eyed teen with a strong sense of morality the adoption papers were half filled out. Unfortunately for Bruce, Danny has a thing about rich guys with secret identities who want to adopt him.
Death Is Not The Enemy T
Danny gets summoned into a new universe, makes some friends, becomes part of the most powerful vigilante clan ever, punches a bunch of satanists, finds the meaning of family and gets a chance at dreaming big. Definitely not in that order
Concession To Realism G
Clockwork sends Danny to a universe where he'll be safe until he can take up the mantle of Ghost King, a dimension far away from the Fentons and other ghost hunters. Danny is less than thrilled, especially when he starts developing a soft spot for some local bats.
And So It Ghost T 65,805 SERIES
When Danny Fenton is invited to a Technology Fair in Gotham he hopes it will help open doors to a good college. What he doesn't expect is an attack by a technology obsessed ghost, or a visit from the Batman himself. Can Danny keep his identity a secret while also scoring a spot at Gotham University? Or will everything come crashing down around his ears like usual?
MISC
A Vigilante A Day Keeps The Government Away M 11,158
Lucius Fox gets a phone call he'd never expected from a source even more unexpected. Now, he's got to figure out what to do with a betrayed child, a traumatized nephew, a protective son, and an adoption-prone Bat.
I Can Be Both Even If It's Hard (And It's Hard) G 52,999 SERIES
Sam and Tucker ran to get Jazz and didn't see Danny come out of the portal. By the time they return Danny has transformed back. This changes things.
-=INSERT TERM=- T
“It's probably just identity theft” Tim looked up from his laptop in the corner as he said it, a courtesy Jason didn't return. “Maybe” he sighed, reading through the document in front of him again. Apparently a kid had cashed in his government trust fund, two years after his death. “I don't know why you care” Tim continued, returning to his screen. Originally Jason hadden’t, had even been offended when Bruce handed him the file with instructions to ‘look into this’. However, the more he did look into it, the more he realised this wasn’t really about the trust fund at all.
Dull Residue Of What Once Was (A Shattered Cloud Of Swirling Doves) T SERIES
Danny didn't expect to become Ghost King. He definitely didn't expect or want to become a target for summoning because of it. He's pretty annoyed at this point. But hey, at least he gets to meet some of his favorite heroes! The Batclan meets King Phantom. It's very alarming.
Of Course It's A Cult T 2,696 SERIES
Danny did not sign up for kingship. Nor did he sign up for random summons by crazy cult people. Fortunately, the sacrifices for this one are still alive and are slightly familiar.
The Historian NR SERIES
I have even documented some stories claiming that the Bat is a living person. Of course, these claims are preposterous and should be immediately discounted. What living person would willingly choose to dress as a bat to fight crime?
Dead Men Don't Bleed M
Dead men don't bleed. When the body begins to break down, the blood settles and congeals in the veins, clotting and preventing them from being able to bleed like the living. This, of course, isn't an issue, so long as your corpse stays dead.
Tape 01 NR
Daniel "Danny" James Fenton wasn't just a normal young adult and while everyone seemed to accept this fact, nobody was able to understand it. That's the point, where all his problems started to evolve into something much bigger. So nobody noticed when he disappeared...
When The Clown No Longer Laughed M SERIES
Things have been going well for Arkham Asylum. There haven't been any breakouts in a while, a new team of Psychologists are starting to make a breakthrough with the residents, and Gotham is starting to heal. But with the recent suicide of one Mr. Freeze, Batman decides to look into what is happening in Arkham Asylum. Dr. Penelope Spectra talks about the good she is doing for the inmates, and how they are finally being rehabilitated. But Batman knew something was deeply wrong. When the Clown no longer laughed.
Time Traveler Code G 1,486
Danny has to (re)introduce himself to Batman and his family after meeting them in the alternate Dan future. He has a few other big pieces of information to break to them, too
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