♟ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴾᴬᵂᴺ⋅ (hiatus) @masteredfear-blog - Tumblr Blog

#🔪 ▌ ᵈʳ⋅ ʲᵉᵏʸᶫᶫ⋅ ( jonathan crane. )#mad ting #still need an eddie tag tbh

#🔪 ▌ ᵈʳ⋅ ʲᵉᵏʸᶫᶫ⋅ ( jonathan crane. )#🔪 ▌ ʷᵒᵘᶫᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶫᶦᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ᵐᵃˢᵏ ( aesthetic. )

zctanna.

❛ we don’t fear authority … we fear loss. our comfy houses and the luxury that has turned us into zombies with really good taste in clothes. ❜ it was a flippant rebuttal from a woman that neither feared authority or loss ;; the usual conventions that bound man were of little interest not while she could just as easily commune with heaven as she could invoke hell with just a whisper and a word.

❛ power is power … ❜ an indefinite realization she had made a long time ago, engaged with a younger version of herself, as she watched that very POWER consume both hope and love in the form of her father. she shrugged, non-committal to the idea of sharing her intimate knowledge with the t e r r o r i z i n g quality of power but, in regards to his rationality, zatanna feared nothing apart from herself.

‘ psychodynamics is a somewhat broad approach ... fears are solely dependent on the individual, therefore pinpointing a fear for the entire globe as a whole will most definitely receive an answer of ambiguous sorts. but you do indeed hold a compelling argument. ’

psychological defects were a topic of mass intrigue for a certain doctor crane, the weaknesses of the mind holding each niche ambiguity just waiting to be pried apart by nimble digits. the manacles that bound humanity in cerebral chains was a thing he’d explore until his dying days, & he found an intrigue in the ideology that other beings possessed on the matters of mentality, and the comparisons to be made. of course, jonathan always had to be correct & would not take another’s thesis for truth over his own proclamations of intellect.

azure irises would interweave her own for a moment, picking apart her anonymous profile in the wake of perusing gaze. my my, he almost neglected his formalities. the doctor stuck out his palm in his most graceful manner before offering a sanguine announcement of, ‘ doctor jonathan crane. ’

#this is real deal first reply post-hiatus im so sorry if im a total rust bucket xxx #thank u for being so patient !!#lmao @ jonathan #he just has to sneak in the fact hes a doctor :))::):) shut u[#🔪 ▌ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᶦˢᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉ⋅ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ⋅ ( verse. 03. )#zctanna

jamsoftheday

Visit Original Link

“One thing, before I graduate Never let your fear decide your fate.”

#🔪 ▌ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⋅ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶦˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⋅ ( tracks. )

xsinglebound.

“Expecting someone else?”

The whoosh of air bringing forth the caped wonder silent as his entrance. The Man of Steel makes his own appearance with a grace the Dark Knight often lacked.

Though Batman was absent ( his alter ego much needed in business affairs ) Superman could easily manage both this city and his own.

jonathan cannot proclaim his elation by the sudden presence of a foe in blue spandex, his scholarly scheme not requiring the paladin whom appeared before him. expression, tho’ beneath the stitched visor, would indefinitely sour & an unnatural form of rampage consumed his very skeletal innards. he was firmly rattled.

‘ wh — no! not you. where’s the — other one? you’re not the bat! ’

#🔪 ▌ ᶦ ᵃᵐ ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᶦᶰᶜᵃʳᶰᵃᵗᵉ⋅ ᶦ ᵃᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳʳᵒʳ ᵒᶠ ᵍᵒᵗʰᵃᵐ⋅ ( verse. 05. )#xsinglebound #this lil stresshead amirite #how could u hurt his feelings this way supes

godsonllychild.

Pink tipped flesh, unfurls seams. Thin crimson streaks mould around lettering. Bleak irises bare only into mirroring ones. Crimson blends upwards, as streaks shift, pulled upwards.

“—Is this the ER- part, where I SPEW my HARROWING backstory?—”

A spare palm drifts outwards. Lining an intonation.

“ONLY; I’m a little RUSTY. How about a CLASSIC? The psychologist’s WET-DREAM —”

“—My, ER, da’ he used to worship the JESUS juice, before dolling out the Catholic HAND—”

Weighted digits crawl deeper against smooth planes, plucking at skin, an etched inking, pulled taunt over planes, knuckles blush though translucent flesh. While another lithely signs out swaying pitches of intonation, cooing along to lilted lettering.

“—UNTIL, one night we hit up the big top, & we watch the CLOWNS lark about. &, he was TRANSFIXED. I mean those big ol’ guppies eyes turned to SHINERS. & we watch, & we watch. Then one of the clowns drops his pants. SUSPENDERS snap! &, down went London bridge to speak, they poll at his feet. & I hear chuckling. & this, THIS, is the first time I see that SNARL erased. Leaving this GRIN. So, we, uh, go home. I uh, raid his CLOSET, between the playboys & bottles, I find some trousers. I dart out to him. DROPPING them. &, he CHUCKLES. He really chuckles. & then he BREAKS my nose—”

“—I guess that’s what you call SLAP-STICK—”

jonathan’s lips compress, taught, in his explicit discomfort. a thing becoming all the more palpable as his.. companion toyed with his seemingly lifeless expression. — it’s a notion most irritable on the clown’s behalf, crimson-painted flesh pulled upward in his perpetual glee: a joyous physiognomy most contrary to the array of naturally pallid skin becometh something of hinted red, abnormal colouring (for him) spawned by the unremitting prods ‘gainst colourless dermis. — he’s neither satisfied, nor sympathetic by the deft telling of his tall & most troublesome tale. he’s just so.. blank-faced, an anonymous drone seeking sufficient stories upon the man with no alias but the joker.

jonathan was somewhat accustomed to the turmoil monsters kept within, thus he’s unaltered by the other’s declaration. his childhood of similar sorts, alas without the humour & incessant desire to please. under-nourished intimacy & sense of warmth? the array of fists & manipulative torment? that was a thing he could relate to.

‘ — & your mother ?? ’

#godsonllychild #🔪 ▌ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᶦˢᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉ⋅ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ⋅ ( verse. 03. )#me: writes para for three words of dialogue #i M??? TYSM ??#I FEEL THE SAME ABOUT U ??? LIKE UR SO TALENTED <3 #Jonathan pls can u just stop #he is ??? so nosy

settle-my-heart-out-deactivated

Visit Original Link

#i really love thi s song #and this version #ps. goals #Xxx #🔪 ▌ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⋅ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶦˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⋅ ( tracks. )

napiier.

a sigh left the males lips, watching as the other smoked. a hand raisesto rub his left eye,blinking hard before his gaze averts back to him. ❛ kindness comes without the need to be cruel ❜ his hand then moves to scratch his cheek, the wounds had only recently begun to heal.he really shouldn’t scratch them but, when he did he didn’t realize that he was. he had no reason for provoking the other in such a way, && really, he supposed that he shouldn’t. so, he wouldn’t stay on the topic any longer. instead he turns && looks around, a hand raising to scratch at his cheek once again. seemingly distracted.

‘ seemingly so. — but where is the fun in that ?? ’

something touching irony interlaces his timbre, for cadaverous countenance remains somewhat lifeless through the reverberation of his speech. — the only signs of movement being his languid motion to tap! away excess ash collecting at the edge of burning cigarette. perhaps it was the fact jonathan’s lacking mobility that caused him to get notably impatient with the other’s perpetual stirring, but he offers a passing juncture for the boy’s movements to cease, alas — to no avail. he’d blink twice, shying away ICED irises for two brief moments before allowing his voice to sound in the sudden quietude.

‘ is there something the matter ?? ’

#napiier #🔪 ▌ ᶦ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᶦᶰᵈ'ˢ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵈʸ⋅ ( verse. 01. )#omg hiiiii !!!#tysm for turning this into a thread? ???#i luv it when ppl do that it makes me feel #gooooood #but yes HELLo

aciddyed.

“Ya’ jus’ sore ‘cause I got my PUDDIN’ & Ya’ stuck playin’ DRESS-UP with some ol’ BURLAP. Tell me does all that STITCHIN’ keep ya’ warm at night?-”

‘ ah yes, the unrequited love story between two children’s horror story clowns. — i can scarcely contain my envy. ’

#aciddyed #🔪 ▌ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᶦˢᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉ⋅ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ⋅ ( verse. 03. )#woaaaah #we gettin personal here Yo

lesswench.

she WANTS to hit him, wants to hurt him. but she won’t - the blonde does have some dignity left in her - as negotiable as that is. “ well it ain’t you. i ain’t ( s c a r e d ) a’ya. “ partially true, but slightly not. i mean, he IS kind of creepy, isn’t he? the jester smiles, COAXING her fear with humor as she always had done. harley isn’t stupid, she knows how illnesses work, and she knows she’s insane. yet, despite all this knowledge, the little thing has failed to recognise his manipulation. but then again, that’s how it works, isn’t? you’re not MEANT to know it’s happening. “ you ain’t findin’ out nothin’ about me. you’re ROTTEN. us bad guys are meant to work together and you ain’t got a single thought about doin’ that. “ she standing rather close now, harsh words spat at his face. she can’t take it anymore - won’t let him speak to her as though he’s the psychologist. that’s her job. she [ m e s s e s ] with people! the notorious bat ghosts over his ashen complexion, tapping it against her jaw. “ that’d hurt, wouldn’t it? y’can’t IMAGINE how much i want to hit ya with it. puddin’ would be so proud… “

introverted by nature, his demure regard of the jester wishes to disband & look anywhere but the pallid grease-paint of her visage: but he refuses to allow his icy stare to break away from her own ( not even to gaze upon the ghastly bat — god knows, he wanted to ). jonathan wants to resort to cowardice & allow her victory to be knownst to all, but his dignity would disallow him to do such a thing: so self-assured that she’d cause a friend no such physical harm. her death would be imminent, if she’d dare to do so ( surely she wouldn’t ?? ), at the hands of his thugs. — he hoped.

‘ then why don’t you just hit me ?? ’ a coaxing simper tugs at sallow lips, all prior unease somewhat soothed — a display, surely. & he retrieves his carton of cigarettes from trouser pocket: selecting a perfect cylinder from the packet and placing it between his lips. ‘ — are you waiting for something ?? ’ speech is slightly muffled, he seizes the moment to set cigarette aflame.

#lesswench #🔪 ▌ ᶦ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᶦᶰᵈ'ˢ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵈʸ⋅ ( verse. 01. )#someones gonna die and i think its crane #lmaooo

harlykinns.

Her mouth OPENS, ready to RESPOND to his questions before it CLOSES suddenly. Eyebrows FURROW and blue eyes NARROW at the doctor. She’s not as DUMB as she LOOKS or ACTS, her own EDUCATIONAL background is making RED FLAGS go off in her head. The MENTAL games were the ones SHE played on others, she wasn’t a fan when it was REVERSED and SHE became the PATIENT.

“I ain’t dumb. I know what yer doin’ knock it off.”

The PLAYFULNESS in her tone it LOST. She SNARLS as she stands at her full height, moving away from his desk and putting some DISTANCE between them like that would stop him from trying to PRY into her brain.

a wry smile would shadow her sudden distaste for his diction, a proclamation of annoyance most unalike a tenor he’d derived from the jester in junctures prior: the woman with a tongue seemingly FULL of bubbly jocularity turned to ill-temper in a matter of sentences. oh well, at least his prying compelled a ( somewhat lacking ) distance between the pair of them.

‘ i struck a nerve. — my sincerest apologies. ’

#harlykinns #🔪 ▌ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᶦˢᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉ⋅ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ⋅ ( verse. 03. )

ohfuckyeahcillianmurphy

Cillian Murphy photographed by Gustavo Papaleo for The Guardian | April 2016

#i swear there's not even a name for the blue in cillian murphys eyes #he makes me #so upset #🔪 ▌ ᵈʳ⋅ ʲᵉᵏʸᶫᶫ⋅ ( jonathan crane. )

catisms.

Selina, sitting on a bench in the GCPD headquarters, was BORED out of her mind. She was here for petty theft, AGAIN, and she knew Jim would bail her out AGAIN. That dude had major soft spots for kids. But still, there was paperwork to be filed, and Jim had gone off to COOL DOWN. Hand against chin, green eyes trailed a NEW looking man, or at least a guy she had NEVER seen before. He was close, within hearing range anyways, tall, dark haired. Selina was curious.

❝ You’re new ‘round here, aren’tcha? ❞

she was but a juvenile, jonathan sombrely thought ‘pon her presence: where many would frown upon her youthful detour to delinquency, the doctor was somewhat intrigued. by her introductory brief, it was striking that this seat happened to be perpetually occupied by her petite framework — azure irises taking a concise glance toward the girl, that critical expression of his physiognomy somewhat permanent.

‘ you’re not quite as perceptive as you seem. ’ he’s pointing out the evidence, her incarceration proving such a thing — she can’t be too skilful at her occupation if she’s getting caught ( more than once, he assumed ). ‘ i am a psychiatrist. i study whether an imprisoned person needs a form of medical help instead of regular treatment, such as confinement. — in short terms, sometimes cases are handed to me by the GCPD to determine whether prison or asylum. — are you a regular visitor of theirs ? ’

#catisms #🔪 ▌ ᶦ ᵃᵐ ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᶦᶰᶜᵃʳᶰᵃᵗᵉ⋅ ( verse. 06. )#im sorry this took so long!

zctanna.

❛ so is THAT how it’s measured then ? ❜ a contemplative drawl, condescending ( perhaps ) if it hadn’t been for the genuine note of curiosity vocal inclinations that would take her to a height ripe for disappointment. she was on the very precipice of concern, toeing an abyss that she was uncertain would hold any return that wasn’t raged with foam and endless in it’s depths ;; gotham was a storm and zatanna was not about to stand fast and be some beacon for salvation in it’s night.

❛ is fear all there is to power ? ❜

‘ it’s certainly a dominant factor. ’ jonathan condemned in serene kind of tenor, a voice of enigmatic sorts when it came to the deciphering of a person’s mentality. scholarly expertise assisted him into a further understanding of the ways in which each & every idiosyncratic membrane was shackled to the next. they all had mutual binds — fear. whether it unbeknownst to the beholder, or a crippling phobia that suppressed an individual from evolution. it was fascinating.

‘ we fear authority because of possible incarceration & punishment. — this affects every notion. we don’t hit the person who ridicules us, nor do we take the things we so want but cannot afford. we consider them as powerful figures of society, do we not ? ’

#zctanna #🔪 ▌ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᶦˢᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉ⋅ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ⋅ ( verse. 03. )#omg thank u for turning this into a thread #i luv

me: oh yea it's been years I'm over it

also me: *was actually irreparably changed to the point that my personality and the way I interact with others and my insecurities are, even today, a direct result of what happened*

#🔪 ▌ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶠʳᵃᶦᵈ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ( inspiration. )

jokersdaughter.

“I’m bleedin’ out over here,” Duela said as blood was still somehow pulsing from the wound. “C’mon uncle Scarecrow. Uncle Jonnie? Jon? Y’know what - we’ll work out the names after you save my life.” She said as she walked further into the home of her recently adopted uncle. (Literally two seconds ago). “I gotta ton of information you’d be interested in too.”

‘ i was unaware we were something of relatives, ’ jonathan quipped half-heartedly: the man’s physiognomy remaining lifeless through his speech, lacking in the joyous tone his diction so desired. his doctorate was something discarded, & his scholarly mind remained neglected. apparently he was playing nurse to his.. acquaintance’s daughter. —— why did it have to be him?

‘ you can start by telling me what happened, and what this wound you request my assistance for was created by? ’

#jokersdaughter #🔪 ▌ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᶦˢᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉ⋅ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ⋅ ( verse. 03. )

cheiiros.

Eyes flick up & away from the computer when Barbara registers the quieted shuffling of feet. Next, she smells hints of grassy notes and a tang of vanilla, her nose crinkling. Carefully, she removes her glasses from where they perched on her nose and puts on a sunny disposition just for the man opposite. ‘ Hi, can i help you find something ?? ‘

cerulean irises glimmer in the dimly lit space, a smell of nostalgia accompanying the parched dossiers aligning every bookcase of collected documents. there were thousands of books. — far too many for a busy man like dr. crane to shift through for what he needed. a particular little red-head, he hoped, would be the key to his predicament.

‘ anxiety & phobias, volume two. — do you have it ? ’

#lo OK HOW LONG THIS TOOK ME #AND I TS PURE #rubbish im so sorry ??#i literally ly ok #🔪 ▌ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᶦˢᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵉ⋅ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ⋅ ( verse. 03. )#cheiiros

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

♟ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴾᴬᵂᴺ⋅ (hiatus)