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Romantic landscape by Andrey Bakulin

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@constellationcursed said

this is so embarrassing.

Basil turned to watch her as she spoke, a slight frown forming, questioning eyes looking up at her. It was clear that she was distressed - embarrassed as she put it - but he didn't know what had caused her uproar. He tilted his head a little - prompting her to say more. Had he been home, he would have offered her a drink to calm her nerves, but they were allowed no such luxuries here. Had he been home, he would have just asked her to explain. But then again, he never would have met her at all if that were the case.

Then he stands, gesturing for her to sit down on the only chair in his cramped room. Smoothing the grey fabric of the hideous overalls that were a size too large for him, he moved to take a seat on the bed. He was glad that they didn't make him share a room, even if what they provided him with was the size of a storage closet. He supposed it was meant as a favour to someone else - so they didn't have to share close quarters with someone from the Capitol - but if it benefited him the artist wasn't going to complain.

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༘⋆｡ where it hurts starters.

caretaker.

i'll  stay  until  you  fall  asleep.

you're  not  a  burden.  not  to  me.

you  don't  have  to  act  tough  with  me.

let  me  help.

if  you  need  to  cry,  i'll  look  the  other  way.

you  don't  have  to  talk.

let  me  handle  it,  just  for  a  minute.

rest,  i'll  watch  over  you.

i  don't  care  if  you  think  you're  fine.  i'm  staying.

deep  breaths.

just  lean  on  me.

you're  safe  now,  okay?  just  breathe.

i  know  it  hurts.  i'll  sit  here  as  long  as  it  takes.

i'm  not  leaving  until  i  know  you're  okay.

you  don't  need  to  hide.

let  me  take  care  of  you  this  time.

shh.  i'm  right  here.

you  don't  have  to  put  on  a  smile  for  me.

i  don't  think  less  of  you.

i'll  be  here  when  you  wake  up.

you're  allowed  to  lean  on  me.  that's  what  i'm  here  for.

you  don't  have  to  be  okay.

scoot  over,  i'm  not  letting  you  sleep  alone.

your  hair's  a  mess.  let  me  brush  it.

don't  apologize.

cared  for.

i'm  tired,  that's  all.

please  don't  go.

i  don't  know  what  i  need.

you  didn't  need  to  come.

you  shouldn't  have  to  see  me  like  this.

i  hate  feeling  like  this.

i  was  trying  to  push  through.  i  think  i  made  it  worse.

this  is  so  embarrassing.

can  you  just...  stay  a  little  longer?

i  didn't  think  anyone  would  notice...

i'm  not  safe  in  my  own  head  right  now.

why  are  you  being  so  gentle  with  me?

i  don't  want  you  to  fix  me.

today's  just...  one  of  the  harder  days.

i  didn't  know  i  needed  to  hear  that.

can  you  stay?  after  i  fall  asleep?

sorry.  i  didn't  mean  to  flinch.

i  don't  always  know  what's  going  to  help.

this  is  the  nicest  anyone’s  been  to  me  all  week.

i'm  sorry.  i  know  i'm  a  lot.

i  don't  even  know  why  i'm  crying...

i  think  i'm  broken.

you  didn't  have  to  do  all  this  for  me.

i  don't  want  to  be  a  burden.

i  didn't  think  anyone  would  stay.

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Oscar Wilde, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of Oscar Wilde

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ANTAGONISM — APATHY

"What do you want?" "You're still here?" "Heartless bastard." "Empathy, heard of it?" "Why should I help you?" "Beg, and I'll consider." "Why do you think I care?" "You won't even listen to me!" "Are you seriously this cold?!" "Why waste your energy on them?" "Why feel so strongly about this?" "Boohoo, my heart's breaking for you." "Save your words for someone who cares." "Is there nothing you won't do for money?" "Just this once, please, I need your help." "You think you deserve my help? That's rich." "Coming from you? I take it as a compliment." "Please, I don't have anyone else to turn to." "Don't know, and I don't care to know either." "Don't you get tired of every fruitless attempt?" "Go cry somewhere else, I'm tired of hearing it." "… And? You expect me to do something about it?" "Don't come at me with your self righteous bullshit." "You may think me cruel, but I do what must be done." "You could be dying in a ditch and I wouldn't help you." "So what? You'll just turn your back on an old friend?" "Their lives were a necessary sacrifice, you know that." "You're seriously just going to ignore me? Real mature." "I cannot cry for every death. You understand that, yes?" "I'm not ignoring you. That implies I think about you at all." "If you want to survive you have to turn your heart to stone." "I've got lax morals and I'm easily swayed by cash, what can I say." "I haven't paid attention to a single word you've said this entire time." "One day you'll need my help! And I'll give you the same answer you just gave me!"

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Louise Glück, from “Timor Mortis”, Poems 1962 - 2012

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I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break.

Marya Hornbacher

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Given that Mycroft had started their conversation by asking about the details of his new role, Basil assumed that work was likely the safest topic to embark upon. In any case, he hadn't asked him to have a drink to torment both of them with uncomfortable small talk. Besides, he had no idea how to make small talk with someone with whom it appeared he had so very little in common. If his opinion on art was anything to go by.

Basil wasn't necessarily known as a riveting conversationalist. Most of his friends were, and he much preferred to listen. When he did offer a topic of his own, it was usually related to his work. He put everything into his paintings, and while his work for The Games by no means carried the same significance to him, he still had every intention of taking pride in it and doing it to the best of his abilities. Mycroft did not strike him as someone to discuss the artistic aspects with, but when it came to assuring efficiency he was certain he could learn a thing or two.

After accepting their drinks, the painter took a moment to consider the question posed to him. It wasn't the first time he had thought this over, but it wasn't the topic that made him hesitate, but rather the person he was discussing it with. Mr. Holmes by no means gave the impression he could be spoken to informally or hesitantly. He wanted to assure that whatever solution he offered now was both reasonably effective and something he could actually stand by if should he be asked to.

❛I figured that simply firing them was perhaps not the most elegant way to deal with their lack of enthousiasm.❜

And doing that might also draw unwanted attention to his motivations rather than their shortcomings.

❛Perhaps a temporary solution would be to demand they sent in their designs for the season in advance. That way there will be less possibility to customise to specific tributes, but should there be anything dramatic, we can remedy the situation before the they appear on screen.❜

It would assure his first season passed without noticeable hiccups.

❛In the long run, of course, they should be replaced by more competent people. Given the pay is more than adequate, I don't see why it shouldn't be spent on someone worth the sum.❜

Gin and tonic was acceptable, and Mycroft nodded his confirmation. As Basil had observed, it was certainly a better option than the wine. Honestly now, why bother serving it at all if it was going to be subpar quality? The answer, of course, was in the names on the bottles. To many people in the room, what was trendy had become more important than what was actually worth consuming.

While Mycroft had a reputation for omniscience - one that he was careful to maintain as it benefitted him greatly and was not entirely untrue - he was not actually infallible. His mind largely worked on rapidly made calculations of probability. With enough evidence, no matter how small each piece was, assumptions could be made that were, for the most part, accurate. It was a simple process really, no matter how much it may look like magic to an outside eye, but it did occasionally mean he missed something - not that he ever allowed this to show.

In this situation, what Mycroft missed was the fact that Basil would dive into a a serious work based conversation. It was bold of him, and his prior body language had not suggested that he would be willing to try anything other than small talk or following whatever conversation that Mycroft led. However, this did not mean the topic change was not appreciated. Talking business was always Mycroft's preference - it was the conversation in which he had the most control, and it was so much less tedious than attempting to discuss anything else.

Whatever he wanted to discuss, the move had certainly increase Basil's interest level in Mycroft's eyes.

The topic turned out to be one that he hardly deemed a priority, but that did not mean the concerns were incorrect. Mycroft understood what was being said and, in fact, he agreed with it! But in the grand scheme of things, he also deemed it relatively unimportant. In general, the public did not care about the affected Districts. There wasn't enough glitz and glamour to them, and no amount of stylish costumes was going to make farming or coal mining appeal to the Capitol's citizens.

But Basil did have a point. It would be wise to avoid potential embarrassment, and it would be even wiser to avoid evoking feelings of pity. Compassion for the tributes was a slippery slope that he could not risk occurring. Even a flash of it would result in the President's ire, and if the feelings were to grow, it would risk undermining the very foundations of their country.

"What are you proposing should be done about it, then?" Mycroft asked, curious to hear Basil's own idea of a solution before he offered his own. "Keep in mind that any actions need to avoid embarrassing the Games just as much as the imagine they are attempting to negate. If you draw too much attention to the matter, you effectively admit that there was a problem in the first place."

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plotting call

♡ for me to appear in your IM's somewhere in the next few days for some plotting. I would love more interactions for Basil!

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Vilhelm Hammershøi - Open Doors (1905)

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Forbidden Love Dialogue Prompts

Trying out some different tropes. If there's a trope you'd like to see some prompts for in the future please let me know.

"Stop—someone might see us."

"You told them. You—I can't believe you told them about us. I trusted you."

"That fucking hurt!" "I'm sorry. I—I panicked when they walked in. I don't want to get caught!"

"Come on, you have to admit, sneaking around like this is kind of... fun."

"Someone saw us last night. They saw us. God, what if they tell?"

"I don't care! I don't care. I can't do this anymore. The lying, the sneaking around. I can't bear the thought of anyone else touching you, of anyone thinking... I want everyone to know you're mine."

"We—We can't." "Why not?" "If anyone ever found out..." "They won't."

"I love you." "You take that back." "No. I'm done hiding. I love you, and I want the entire world to know you're mine."

"Would it really be so bad—getting caught?" "Yes!"

"We have to stop." "What are you talking about?" "We can't keep doing this. We're going to get caught." "I don't care."

"Why won't you admit it?" "Because I'm scared, dammit! I'm terrified of what this means. I'm terrified to want you, to need you, to... love you. Because if anyone ever found out... God, it would destroy us."

"We were doomed from the start. But you know what, I wouldn't change a damn thing."

"Loving you was never the problem. It was pretending I didn't that killed me."

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✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 .    (  a collection of  action prompts.   feel free to reverse roles as desired. this prompt will be updated.  )

[ REDWOOD ] sender lashes out at receiver when it isn't their fault.

[ WILLOW ] sender embraces receiver in a moment of extreme distress.

[ PINE ] sender fervently resists receiver's attempts to comfort / care for them.

[ BIRCH ] sender finally ends a tense argument by reaching out to apologize.

[ POPLAR ] sender mentors receiver through learning a new skill.

[ PALM ] sender and receiver avoid / ignore the stresses of real life together.

[ ELM ] sender lends receiver aid in a time of urgent need.

[ MAGNOLIA ] sender, believed to be dead, arrives at receiver's door.

[ DOGWOOD ] sender gifts receiver a token of good luck / protection.

[ MULBERRY ] sender and receiver take a long walk through nature together.

[ HAZELNUT ] sender begrudgingly patches up receiver's wounds.

[ CAMPHOR ] sender suddenly pushes receiver out of danger's path.

[ CASHEW ] when they're finally alone, sender invites receiver to dance.

[ LAVENDER ] sender lays their head in receiver's lap and closes their eyes.

[ BEECH ] it comes to light that sender has betrayed receiver.

[ HIBISCUS ] sender invites receiver to go traveling with them.

[ HICKORY ] sender pushes receiver to admit that they need them.

[ MAPLE ] sender shakes receiver's shoulders, begging them to wake up.

[ CHERRY BLOSSOM ] sender revels in receiver's beauty, stunned.

[ JOSHUA ] sender offers receiver a safe place to hide / crash .

[ ASH ] sender and receiver become reacquainted after many years.

[ FIG ] sender, knowing receiver is hungry, pressures them to eat.

[ YEW ] sender beckons for receiver to join them in the water.

[ CYPRESS ] sender shamelessly flirts with receiver.

[ LINDEN ] sender cares for receiver, who took a hit to protect them.

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✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝟎𝟏 . ( a collection of assorted prompts intended to inspire drabbles & maybe starters. adjust as desired. )

describe a time your muse committed a justified act of violence.

describe a time your muse felt truly free.

describe a time your muse just couldn't help themself.

describe a time your muse committed a crime.

describe a time your muse discovered something about themself.

describe the earliest birthday your muse can remember.

describe a time your muse broke the rules.

describe your muse's feelings on their gender.

describe your muse's feelings on their sexuality.

describe a time your muse felt truly loved.

describe a time your muse lost their temper.

describe your muse's very first kiss.

describe the moment your muse discovered their passion in life.

describe a time your muse longed for something so deeply it tore them apart.

describe a time your muse worked themself to exhaustion.

describe a time your character was treated medically.

describe a time your muse made an unheard cry for help.

describe a time your muse couldn't care for themselves.

describe a time your muse couldn't commit to something or someone.

describe a time your muse realized they were in love.

describe a time your muse felt betrayed.

describe a time your muse learned devastating information.

describe a moment your muse reminisces about often.

describe a moment in which your muse lashed out violently.

describe the first time your muse held a weapon.

describe a time your muse blacked out.

describe a moment your muse was absolutely terrified.

describe a moment your muse went into fight or flight mode.

describe a moment your muse had a big, life-altering revelation.

describe the first time your muse took someone's life.

describe a time your muse went somewhere they shouldn't.

describe a time your muse sneaked out of the house.

describe a traumatic experience from your muse's childhood.

describe the first concert your muse ever went to.

describe your muse's dream [ engagement / wedding ].

describe an outing that went terribly, horribly wrong for your muse.

describe a time your muse found themself somewhere unexpected.

FOR PAIRINGS:

describe a time our muses slept in late together.

describe the moment receiver knew they were in love with sender.

describe the first significant fight our muses got into.

describe a time receiver thought they were going to lose sender.

describe the first time receiver realized they were comfortable around sender.

describe a moment that receiver felt betrayed by sender.

describe a private thought receiver has had about sender.

describe a time our muses went on a long scenic road trip.

describe a moment where receiver held onto sender a little tighter.

describe a moment of pure joy between our muses.

describe a moment where sender made receiver feel safe.

describe a moment of grief and mourning between our muses.

describe a moment where receiver lost their temper with sender.

describe a moment where receiver broke down in front of sender.

describe a moment receiver jumped into action to protect sender.

describe a kiss between our muses that 'shouldn't' have happened.

describe a day/night our muses lost track of time together.

describe the first date our muses ever went on.

describe the day our muses got the keys to their first place.

describe a night our muses stayed out until ridiculously early.

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Young woman reading in greenhouse Axel Helsted (1847-1907)

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❛Yes - yes - I am painfully aware that you will get whatever information you wish, and you seem adamant to assure I will not forget-❜ Basil responded - unable to hide his irritation at being so pressed when, clearly, he was cooperating. He didn't assume that Mycroft cared for the distress this conversation caused him, but he had expected a more gentle approach nonetheless.

❛Given that you have answered neither of my questions in the positive, I assume that you are neither inclined to actually destroy all trace of this, nor to avoid bloodshed - but it makes no difference does it?❜

He wasn't a fool. Usually, he even considered himself quite a good judge of people and their intentions. It was part of the reason why he had done an admirable job of se keeping his private life private. Something that was by no means a given in the atmosphere of The Games.

Mycroft, however, was not an easy man to read, but if there was one point about which little speculation was left it was his ability to get what he wanted. Basil had been careful not to give him a reason to exercise that power against him, so that up until this point, their interactions had never been as uncomfortable as this one.

This was a good example of why he had been reluctant to get involved with The Games. Not that he had ever expected something like this would happen. That he would fall in love with a Victor - or that he would be punished for it. But he had keenly considered the fact that a possible misstep would be of much more significance than when he had simply remained in the shadows. He was entirely at another's mercy - this conversation didn't change that. It only shifted the person holding the strings.

❛Aurus - District One -❜ he sighed eventually.

Mycroft's assumptions about the nature of his Victor had been rather accurate - so much so that the painter didn't think it would take the other as much as fifteen minutes to pinpoint who Basil had been referring to, and he was too proud to fight a losing battle, even if their current conversation left little of that pride intact.

If Basil thought that he could escape this matter without a single drop of blood indirectly spilt, he was a fool. That was the artistic types all over, though. They loved to be idealistic - caught up in their own worlds where everything was beautiful. Basil, at least, was not the worst for it, but he clearly still retained some of that tedious disposition.

Feeling the ultimate violence that would be required was obvious, Mycroft elected to not comment on it. Why should he? Basil should know the truth already, and, if he didn't, the chance of him ever finding out was minimal. After all, this victor had not made a move against the Captiol itself. Doing such a thing would have made him dangerous, and would have therefore resulted in his own death. Instead, he'd merely been too bold. He needed to relearn his place, and the best way to do that was to hurt those close to him. His family were the ones in danger, but why should Basil ever hear of their fates all the way in the Districts?

"I will ensure that no word of this gets out, yes."

Of course, that promise was subject to change should the knowledge ever become a useful barging chip. Mycroft didn't think that Basil needed to be particularly worried about that, though. The other man hardly had enough power or importance for gossip about his private life to have a high likelihood of becoming a useful asset.

Still, a low probability did not mean a matter was impossible. Basil would be wise to be wary - especially considering that the solution to his problem would leave him in Mycroft's debt, and there was no doubt that there would be a day where he came to collect.

"If you give me his name, you will save us both time," Mycroft then added. "You are aware, of course, that I will work it out either way. The tribute is male, presumably of similar age as you do not strike me as a man keen to chase an individual significantly older or younger than yourself, attractive if you were to find yourself drawn to him, and capable of being gentle enough to convince you to love him, while also being ambitious enough to embark on this bold blackmail attempt. That does not leave many options. How quickly do you think I would discover enough evidence to allow me to settle on a name? I don't think it would take me more than an hour at most, do you?"

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independent && selective Basil Hallward from The Picture of Dorian Gray. loved (&& ruined) by Alice (+25). book,, movie && headcanon based. follows back from @wcndxrlnd.

doc | memes | open starters

Every portrait that is painted with feeling

is a portrait of the artist - not of the sitter.

Alternative verses modern verse demon verse THG verse

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@governmentofficial

In Mycroft's opinion, there was little more important to who a man would ultimately become than the nature of his father. He would not admit to it, but this was based on his own experience as a man who was devoted to his father and would do whatever he could to gain his approval. It also completely ignored the exceptions to the rule. His own brother, for example, who was the complete opposite of everything Mycroft portrayed despite their shared upbringing. The Holmes patriarch, though, as a model citizen. Siger Holmes was a political figure who had kept to the shadows. To those in the know, he had been the Capitol's spymaster. Really, the fact he was still alive - even in retirement, where many men of his kind would no longer provide enough benefit to outweigh the risk of their knowledge - was a testament to his skill at navigating the minefield that could be the President's paranoia. And, of course, everything that Siger was, Mycroft was too - only, the eldest of his sons had build on his lessons and taken them to a whole new level. But Basil's father was different. He had overplayed his hand and paid the price for it. That smear on the family's name wasn't something one could forget, even if the desire was there to leave it all in the past. "No, I imagine you don't," Mycroft replied. "Your own father's situation is the kind of experience that reshapes his progeny's entire future. I only hope that he reshaped yours for the better."

What an odd statement. Usually Mycroft's boldness didn't bother the painter. If it had thrown him off a little during their first few interactions, he had come to appreciate the directness that usually accompanied their conversations. But the topic at hand was a personal one, and he wished that for once the other would show a little more consideration.

❛I don't see how his situation could possibly have reshaped my future for the better - ❜ he replies curtly.

❛- unless you mean to suggest that without it, I would have been likely to be problem.❜

No - in fact, if it hadn't been for his father's fate, Basil would never have entered any sort of political position. He would have been able to live off his painting, regardless of whether he managed to gain any fame for it. So arguably, his father's fate made him more likely to stand in the way - even if it had assured he never intentionally would.

❛I was no more likely to thread in his footsteps before than I am now. He and I did not exactly see eye to eye - but that doesn't make me indifferent to his fate.❜

His father had never exactly approved of his choices. Gregory Hallward had always had a rather distinct idea of what he wanted his only son to be and Basil had not met those criteria, ranging from his somewhat introverted personality to his lack of interest in the career path his father had set out for him - not to speak of other, more personal, preferences.

Still, his father had never treated him unkindly and even if the rebellious streak that often accompanied adolescence had often made the artist voice the desire to be rid of his father's expectations, its fulfillment had brought him no joy.