firewalkzwit
Cipriani’s Basement
for the so-called avant garde <3.do you have a vacancy for a back scrubber?she/her
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guys i swear i havent forgotten about the fic you just have no idea how busy ive been since november!! thats a good thing but i’d love to write again
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im probably a tad late but the absolute oppenheimer sweep at the oscars is insane im so happy for cillian
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When’s part 32 xx
when im off my writing slump and have more time available. ive had zero free time lately which doesnt help my writers block, but i got ideas trust i just dont know how to put them in words
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Cillian with musical instruments 😁
I had never seen these photos!
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its ironic to think im on break yet ive never been busier. sorry updates havent come through yet, they will though
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i love it when men look just enough like a girl for me to think theyre cute
yes im talking about beck i had a dream with him and it just switched up the wiring on my brain completely..
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since we still don’t know what the pt. 2 of the batman will be about i can say that in my dreams i’d looove to see a scarecrow rebootal with a more leading role (nolanverse scarecrow wasnt rlly the focus of the film imo, more of batman’s transformation arc).
and willem dafoe would be so perfect for it 😫
plus i’d love to see these two work together again. willem rlly gives me vibes from the alex ross design for scarecrow (which is also my favourite) and if he were to do a dc villain i’d just faint
#jonathan crane#the batman#batman#bruce wayne#battinson#robert pattinson batman#willem dafoe#the scarecrow#scarecrow#dc scarecrow
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i was waaay to optimistic when my ass was saying i’d finish runt before the end of the year😭 i prob wont be pushing in another chapter until january im acc so busy its not even fun
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that picture of cillian and barry keoghan altered my brain chemistry… thats a tag team right there
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sorry but the fic hasnt had and will not have much fluff its just anti climatic. crane would never be too nice without an ulterior motive and to ever write him as such feels like an altering of his character so drastic i’m better off just writing for someone else atp. there’s fics out there that offer more love than mine
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the awful self insert names r literally my worst nightmare
Me when it says it’s an X READER fic but READER has a name like hello? Not a X READER fic. And it’s always the most horrible names to like Mildred or Winnifred and sometimes there okay but do I look like an Amy to you?
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runt // jonathan crane x reader (31)
Chapter 31
cross-posted on AO3
masterlist.
Crane's fixation to his goals held a special allure to her, she'd watch him and listen to his careful planning and fidgeting of his fingers as he paced around the cold, humid sub-surface cave where all his supplies and secrets were kept. She'd finally figured she'd occupy her mind with visiting Arkham, it'd soothe Crane's mind and keep him out of her ear for a bit at least. In her mind, she'd made up and out of her unsteady relationship more times than she could count, but she doubted that even within the complexities of Crane's mind there had been room for that many questionings of their affairs. With his unwavering tacitly accepting attitude of her erratic behaviour, she couldn't help but feel it didn't come from a place of loyalty, but rather a tired toleration of her tantrums to maintain a peaceful formality, and on the side, good casual sex. He didn't react because he didn't care, and her emotions seemed to hold no place in his worries. He seemed so passionate and invested as he spoke with Falcone's men and his arms fluttered in gestures and pointed in every direction, that she knew the place his devotion to fear occupied in his heart could never be replaced by her.
She knew she needed no such thing anyway, it was never in her plans to get tangled in an affair with who, to her, should just be a gateway to her goal. He seemed to have that clearer than her. Though even in the slight ache in her chest as the realisation struck her, she found a strange comfort in who she could see as a mentor, and a certain fondness with no sexual hunger to prowl underneath it. It was as he rushed walking to a direction that was not her's, she placed her hand on his chest to halt him almost impulsively.
"How do you do that?" Although her head was tilted and between her eyebrows was a frown that seemed to demonstrate interest, her gaze seemed to be lost in something that was hardly his own. As if it seemed like her pupils were looking at his direction but trying to glimpse something further. Puzzled, he gave her his own wry as he thought his answer through.
"Do what?"
"You're so focused..."
"Yes; I should be, all this is important."
"No I mean, aren't you scared?" By that, the beginning of a scoff initiated his hand's motion towards her to gently slide it off his chest.
"No room for that here." Of course that was the answer, it was Dr. Crane talking for him anyway. She had no qualms in admitting to herself that she was terrified, but his answer seemed more of an attempt to reassure himself than calm her own fears. He walked with such performative security she envied him enormously. It felt as if she learnt how to perform for long enough she could somewhat convince herself, as she had done in the beginning, thinking whatever she was doing at that very moment should be the pinnacle of her priorities, or when the confusion of his role in her life had led her to ever believe she could be unconditionally in love with him.
It was as she remembered the reasons for her unease that she chased after him, the staccato of her heeled shoes reverberant in the ample height of the basement. As she reached him, hesitantly her hands gripped his shoulder as if she could feel him closer that way. There was a sense of privacy in holding tight onto the body of whom one wanted to share secrecy with, even though the sound wave would travel and smear just as fast, like gunpowder, she'd still felt words were more confined as her nails grazed the cloth of his suit and her mouth approached his ear close enough to feel her hot breath bounce back against him to return to her.
"I think Bruce might be suspecting something." His attention this time was far more poured into her than the last time, in his eyes and steady expression where not a single muscle twitched, nothing moved except his relentless trembling pupils. It was not natural or uncontrolled, it more seemed as if his gaze was trying to catch a focused glimpse of any minute detail separated from one another by a distance so minuscule the movement in his eyes hardly manifested itself in his eyelids. Yet all that came out of his mouth, despite her expecting him to scold her like a child or make quiet insinuations of immense disappointment, was nothing but a mere interjection.
"Ah?"
"I don't know, he seemed a bit distressed yesterday, he hinted something about danger."
"Well it must be the instinct." His speech, not calming nor alarming, seemed like more of a mild mockery, his reasoning completely incoherent for such a careful thinker. "Don't dwell on it too much, there's no way he got access to this cellar or any information related to it." His voice didn't coincide with his uneasy expression, and she could feel his body move under her hands as he tried to keep his accelerated breathing under control. He was like a rodent, anxious and jumpy, with his twitchy eyes and skittish way of moving, which did no favours to his gaunt and almost dainty physique, undercover within the layers of clothes he strategically wore to suppress what underneath was a frail frame.
That night, Crane drove quietly as she sat beside him, hugging her purse with her knees clasped tightly. The mild sound of the music on the radio had little room to move, too short to reach with steadiness the back of the car, as small as Crane's car was. He drove a '94 hatchback that looked tightly squashed, and it was shaped like a pencil sharpener. It was great to fit in the tight gaps that Gotham had for parking spots, and relatively consumed little gas, but it felt tight to be in, and poorly maintained. The cover of the passenger seat had a little hole she liked to poke her finger into, and the cranky gearshift made an unsettling noise every time Crane would yank it to change it. Still, she'd grown familiar to the car that had been the home to her last fear of death, and the car where she'd been put through an induced psychological torture so bizarre she was now back in it, with the man who'd nearly terrified her to death.
"Would you like to stay the night?" She finally asked once they'd been parked by her building for nearly five long minutes.
"Are you asking me if I want to stay the night or do you need me to stay the night?" Y/N thought her answer through, although reluctant to feed his arrogance she still felt prompted to be truthful.
"Both."
"Then I'll stay."
She didn't know exactly what had bewitched him, but that night, Crane had treated her as tenderly as ever. She felt taken to a nuance of his personality she hadn't been let into before, though he had a knack for revealing his different facets in sporadic outbursts of childlike or akin affection. He seemed to try his best to calm her by caressing her softly enough to make her feel like his fingers were made out of silk. His hands ran through her skin and cupped her face like she was his most prized possession, the apple of his eye. It felt so honest that for as long as that lasted, she'd felt him as genuine as ever. Her lashes fluttered with every blink, and even while she closed her eyes and let herself melt in the body heat and bitter wetness of sweaty bodies, she felt as if her lashes were the wings of a butterfly, his delicate treatment of her face almost made her feel like her body had shifted into a divine deity, feeling almost worshipped.
But as fast as it came, the feeling abandoned her like a wave that crests and dissipates down back to sea level, returning to the ordinary. The problem with serotonin highs was that their similarity to drug withdrawal was so strong the depression and loneliness she felt once he let go of her made her feel like shattered porcelain.
"I hope that helped you relieve your stress, you seemed very tense today." In her eyes, he had turned into an almost robotic satisfier, returning to his cold demeanour the second he considered it'd sufficed. In a way, he had achieved his objective, for all the stress in her body had slid off like the pest it was, leaving her laid in bed like wet clay, stiff in her position but every limb and bone in her body felt completely flexible. Though he didn't abandon her, staying in the small bed together like he'd promised, Crane turned and curled up into a ball. She could feel his arched bones against her back, and although she couldn't see his arms hugging his body tightly in search of simulating an embrace, she could swear she heard him weep, and in the occasional twitching and sharp inhaling on his side of the bed, Y/N felt too scared to bring him any comfort.
#jonathan crane x reader#scarecrow x reader#jonathan crane#scarecrow#jonathan crane scarecrow#the batman#cillian murphy#nolanverse batman#batman x reader#batman#batman begins
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i cant even fathom how some ppl can pour 100k words into a single fic. do yall go outside??
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how it feels to be the writer of ur own fic so you can skip the fucking pregnancy trope
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runt // jonathan crane x reader. (30)
Chapter 30.
cross-posted on AO3
masterlist.
Y/N hadn't attended Arkham in what had felt like months, but had only been three days. Bruce had left messages, but the only reason she'd reached out to her phone was to disconnect it, for she no longer wished to hear his grating voice plea to see her to amend a mistake he couldn't even identify. Her mind could only process one thought and it surrounded something as mundane as what she'd wear. For all she knew, it could be the clothes she died on, and even if she didn't, whatever awaited her after Armageddon was uncertain and prompted very deadly either way. She had grown very soft, and the determination that had come with a fresh loss wasn't as vibrant as it used to. Even though she had assumed that the emotional tolls that her decision would cost her were something she was willing to tolerate, she was naively ignorant of how much that would affect her performance. Naturally, she'd dug her nails into her palm as she clenched her jaw in some sort of mild physical punishment for the mistakes of her past self. Curled in bed, she had not thought of Jonathan for the entirety of the day.
The knock on her door had snapped her out of her distraught, rapidly shifting her once independent attention to the thought of Crane. Immediately her mind was invaded by gloom, the mere thought of him caused her an anxiety so intense her chest weighed on her. As she approached to open the door, her eye peering through the peephole perceived a much taller male on the other side. Crane could never acquire such shoulders no matter how much he used suits to disguise his smaller frame. The man on the other side had to be over six feet, which explained why the poorly placed spyhole could hardly allow her to see a blur of a face terribly deformed by the curved glass, especially under the strange disguise of sunglasses and cap he wore like a celebrity.
"Who is it?" A nervous voice emerged from her throat instead of her usual self.
"It's Bruce." Of course it was. She hesitated whether she'd open the door or not, permeated by a sensation of alarm that inspired no confidence in her hand which approached the chain lock. A man the size of Bruce could easily tackle the door and its little symbolic lock down like a car butts a transit cone. Although she couldn't picture someone with Bruce's personality ever doing that, she knew if he ever felt the need he could manhandle her little door and body like a dollhouse with its Barbie. The thought of it terrified her, and she struggled to open the door.
"What are you doing in this neighbourhood?"
"I needed to see you." Y/N finally thought it to be reasonable to let him in, it was after all a threat for him to be on his own in Park Row. As she opened the door, her hand placed on his back to gently rush him inside as she looked to the sides, making sure no one had seen him.
"What was so urgent that you had to come here? You didn't get your butler to drive you, did you?"
"I took a cab." Her chin rested on her hand as her arms hugged her chest, biting on her nail as she shook her head in anxiety. "I needed to see if you were okay."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Look, I won't bring it up again, but I didn't know if you'd be okay with... him." Immediately she rolled her eyes. While not being under the influence allowed the aggressive burst of emotions that ignited her lungs, the only thing that differed from her previous outburst was merely her self-control.
"Yes I'm fine." The desire to thank him for his preoccupation crept through but didn't manage to get past her mouth, as her pride contained the urge to feel gratification for such a minuscule display of empathy; Crane was really starting to grow on her.
"That's good." By the look of his expression he seemed to want to say more, yet he kept to himself as his feint of speaking was halted in the middle of lifting his eyebrows to mutter another pair of words.
"That's all? I don't mean to kick you out like this but I have to run some errands." Lies after lies, she couldn't be straightforward about how little she wanted to see people at that very moment, although she urged him to be quick to spit whatever he was biting in.
"You're not safe here." She scoffed immediately. "I could accommodate you in a residency for a couple of days." Her head looked away following her rolled eyes, biting her lip in disbelief. Bruce's hesitant approach to her was rapidly interrupted by his own usual faltering. He knew her body language exuded an enormous tentativeness to reject his offer, but he knew the lack of an immediate no presented consideration beyond the offence taken. "Something bad might happen."
Her head turned abruptly, the petty smile in her face rapidly replaced with a perturbed grimace. Her heart sank with anxiety at the idea of Bruce even sensing what was about to come. For all she knew he could be partners with Falcone and know about what was happening; about her. She had no guarantees his philanthropy wasn't a façade, and she was rapidly taken aback by his words. Her mind had no space to dwell on the obviousness of her expression, only panic and hope her wide inquisitive eyes would give away how desperate she was for further explanations. But he refrained to speak, instead assuming the frown in her dead expression was only a reprimand for his insinuations.
promised and delivered lol. this chapter is very crying lightning by arctic monkeys
#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#scarecrow#scarecrow x reader#the batman#nolanverse batman#batman x reader#batman#batman begins#cillian murphy
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im finally getting back to my computer in a few hours. if the draft is intact im posting, otherwise i’ll just hsve to rewrite which might take me until tomorrow😁😁
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