#at this point this basil is my oc

[eggsoupery]

testing out a pen

[misty-wisp]

long time no redraw

old ver. and a comparison i edited together:

[percivalias]

I graduated college, so you know what that means: THE LONG AWAITED RETURN OF THE MONKEYWRENCH MY LITTLE PONY AU! Now featuring names and special talents for our newly-equine protagonists.

[incompletebasil]

Drew me and my friend's S.T.A.L.K.E.R ocs

Witch belongs to my friend while Speaker belongs to me

[basilpaste]

Joyce and Zip, two of my oldest ocs to date. I always end up coming back to them! What their story was is... deeply incoherent since I wrote it when i was in like 5th grade. I want to rework it at some point. I've got some ideas! Like weapons!

[memewife]

most regular teenage friend group

[theokusgallery]

God I've been listening to Wolves Run Together today and I'm back to thinking about the lines

If all the good in me is because of you // Are you to blame for the bad, too? // 'Cause I've walked holes inside my shoes for you

Because like??? Oh my god????? I feel like it's something that could be said from either Nick or Sun's perspectives, like how the whole song is almost like a duet between the two of them

Nick knows how far he's gone but doesn't quite care, but I think it'd be interesting if he's very aware of the hole he's dug for himself. No way but down for him in his mind; besides, he's happier for it, so why the hell not?

And for Sun, its like he knows he's surrendering himself entirely to Nick, but chooses to anyways. Much like his partner, this is something he finds happiness and comfort and safety in. He would rather have this known environment than taking his chances without him, even if this environment is very much a toxic one.

The two make each other happy, but they also know they're slowly killing one another with their horrible habits. It's not like they'll stop though, they're too far gone.

God I love dynamics like this HDHSHDHFJF

(also I think Nick and Sun would make for fantastic OCs given how far their personalities are being pushed from canon. You don't have to, of course, but I think it could give you a lot of freedom!)

YES YES YES THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I LOVE ABOUT THEM

The thing is that... Especially for Sunny, but for both of them— they know they're not... healthy. They're horrible for each other, but that's why they're good for each other, they're— they fit together. They'll both go to terrible, terrible lengths for one another, but at least they'll do it together. It's unhealthy, but it's... consensually unhealthy. If that's even a thing. They're both like candles constantly fueling each other's flame, and they are melting, but boy do they love the burn. They're horrible for each other because they fit so well together.

They make each other so so much worse but they fucking love it (for Sunny, despite himself; for Nick, completely by choice).

[the-kipsabian]

For the Writer ask, would you ever write a match-like fanfic?

oooh maybe? ive written some match content stuff back in the day, tho i always found it a bit tricky so unless i really find a way to get it into the fic im probably not gonna do that very often, but yeah maybe

also i just remembered i actually did write a little bit of a match in immortal fears so ive at least done that a little fairly recently lmao

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Hermione Baddeley (Brighton Rock, Passport to Pimlico, Mary Poppins)— An absolute mainstay of British films from this period. She’s an icon who never takes shit from anyone in any of her movies, dresses for the occasion, and has the best line delivery! Also she started out in silent movies, and was a close friend of Noel Coward. In a desperate attempt to appeal to a large tumblr fandom, I will also point out that her first husband and one of her children were both called David Tennant. You like that name, don’t you tumblr??

Glynis Johns (Mary Poppins, The Court Jester)—LISTEN, I'd let that woman's voice with all its gravely hoarseness (positive) wash over me all goddamn day, but if that's not enough she managed to play the straight woman to Danny Kaye's jester, all with her cleavage so plunging it might as well have been catapulted into the ocean right after Basil Rathbone

This is round 1 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Glynis Johns propaganda:

She walks the line between sexy and cute. Her best role for me is in "The Court Jester as Maid Jean. She's fantastic as the soft but tough captain of the outlaw band and she looks stunning in every gown she wears throughout the film. And of course we can't forget her iconic turn as the suffragette mother, Mrs. Banks, in Mary Poppins! Also shoutout to her distinctive and beautiful voice, kind of smoky and husky. Extremely hot and set her apart from many of her peers."

"Listen, listen. I was raised on Mary Poppins and "Votes for women! (step in time)" single-handedly taught me how to be a feminist. Also The Court Jester is one of my favourite movies of all time and she is UNBELIEVABLY gorgeous, charismatic, funny, and clever in it. She knocks several men out. Absolute icon."

"Like Bette Davis she has eyes to die for. Unlike Bette Davis you felt comforted by them, even when she was batting her eyelashes at you. Would glady go to Downing Street with her and throw things at the Prime minister"

"She had this wonderful wit and charm to her no matter the role and the most distinctive, striking voice!"

"She was amazing in Mary Poppins (the Suffragette song is severely underrated) and apparently she was Welsh? National pride! And she advocated for arts funding in Wales, which is very cool. Also, she died recently (RIP) making her one of the last survivors of the Golden Age of Hollywood, according to Wikipedia. Also also, she just has a cheeky energy I like? And her eyes are beautiful!"

"I mean, incredibly beautiful and talented, can do drama can do comedy. And she was a mermaid."

"I love Glynis Johns. Most of the reason is The Court Jester where she's a sensible and capable foil to whatever what going on with Danny Kaye at the time. She was also the first star I based an OC on. An OC that I still have to this day! Anyway here have some YouTube links love u bye"

Mermaid clip: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/1jUEA03mYTk

Court Jester (sharing a bed trope): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5d_qG9i054U

Court Jester (seducing the king): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-GuqFYElKg

"VOTES FOR WOMEN! Well, votes for this woman. Please."

Hermione Baddeley propaganda:

Propaganda for both Hermione and Glynis:

[toorurii]

if you had to make a dating sim of your ocs who would be in it!!

oh my god anon you don’t even know......... I am the dating sim / otome guy of like 11 years this is my REALM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tbqh I have a little side project on the backburner of making a mini gimmick-y dating sim so initially the answer is like. All of them (though I do plan to make an entire new round of ocs for it so nothing weird happens) but lets see if I can whip up a cast real fast

Basic loverboy route would be Vlad! He's the classic quirky sweet guy with no crazy skeletons in his closet. His route could have a little angst / hurt-comfort in it though on his end bc he does have an aversion to seeing people bleed if anyones into that (hes a vampire so....the math)

Slightly meaner would be Sachiko! She's not purposefully mean but definitely pretty aloof and blunt, sort of like the '🙄 gosh ur so hopeless' type of vibe but she loves u. It's very slowburn with her and a big thing is getting close enough for her to share HER love as opposed to just taking (She's a Demon god, specifically Greed!).

GENUINELY mean route for the tsun-likers out there is Mateo! He's like NOT nice but he's very comically mean and entitiled in a way where it's funny / almost pathetic. She's more actions speak louder than words though so while she's spewing venom she'll still stick around through thick and thin! There's also so much repressed mess with her so the layers need to be peeled back

sorry that it's a sketch and 5 whole pixels I’m revamping her rn but Biancas the more mysterious and dangerous route (only for the girlies)! She's like a top notch assassin so I can imagine setups where either the MC is her mark or MC witnesses something they Shouldn't. The way to her heart is to get under her skin bc she's very guarded with a nonchalant front which makes talking to her a minefield

Final 'True' route would be Dizzy I feel! They're shrouded in 1000 layers of nuance, symbolism, and mystery and they're sort of a freakazoid at first glance (and just sort of unpleasant / mean-girl-esque... they're also very fast to throw the first punch a lot) but in the end they're a lover through and through and it becomes clear at some point that they would do Very Heinous Acts for love.

anyway... ty for asking I have a problem ❤️ There are def more ocs I could have included bc I have a bajillion of them and also some ocs that cannot be near a relationship with a 10 ft pole but I still want them (Miah.....Agape.......... Basile.... Harlem...)

[writelikethrollope]

✨ writeblr intro ✨

It's been two minutes since I last did something like this, but here we go I guess. Hi! Welcome!

Personal Stuff

I'm Blue (but you can call me Gwen, if you prefer a "real" name). I'm 31 and your most normalest 9-5 office worker. I learned to read and write at 5 and, since then, never stopped doing either. Which is normal, I think. In middle school I used to write a lot of fanfiction, in high school started with personal stories that I never finished but kept alive throughout university. Eventually, I started working and my job fries my brain and I lost the habit. But if I don't write, the thoughts will inevitably remain trapped in my brain and rot there, which is not good. So, here I am.

Writing Stuff

In the past I used to write a lot of fantasy, some fanfictions (mostly about Fallout and Pillars of Eternity) and romance (I don't like to read it, but I like to write about people holding hands which I've always found weird). I've also tried my hand at writing fairy tales and children's stories - which is something that I actually enjoy a lot doing! But I currently have no idea what I'll be writing next. Exciting! :D

Media I like

The Mummy (1999), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Gravity Falls, Hazbin Hotel, Mass Effect, Stardew Valley, Scarlet Hollow, Portal & Portal 2, A Boy and His Dog, The Lord of the Rings, Stardust, Coraline, Jane Austen is probably my favourite author.

Other Stuff (in handy bullet points)

Blue is my favourite colour!

I love cross stitching and knitting

My native language is Italian

I enjoy gardening on my super small balcony (the basil is thriving though)

I like parenthesis (if you didn't notice)

Dragon enthusiast, but since they don't exist I choose cats as my favourite animal

Feel free to interact and message/comment under posts! :) I'd love to find people to discuss the whole ordeal of writing with (and I gladly listen to OCs rambles!).

[radioisntdead]

Ways to piss off an Italian

Alternatively three ways to cartoonishly piss off an Italian

Hazbin hotel x reader [Platonic]

Warnings:

Italian stereotypes, just jokin' around this is all in good fun! I put an Imp OC of mine in as the reader assistant! She just pops in and out to stir things up! Reader's learning to cook other types of food because they've hadn't had to cook for themselves in ages they just had others do it. Ending is a little off but we don't talk about that I finished this at 6 am I need sleep, Angel isn't that pissed mostly dismayed

Good evening folks! This is a side story with Eldritch horror reader and Angel dust because he's Italian, this is somewhat inspired by my own bit of how my younger self made it her mission to piss off Italians because of that Italian TikTok duo back in 2020-2021 [???] She did not succeed as she did not know any Italians and all she did was eat spaghetti noodles with anything but a fork.

this is also the 100 followers special! Now at the time of posting we are FAR past that at 207! but better late then never! Thank you so much for the support, I genuinely did not think this many folks would like my silly little writings, I adore getting y'all's requests, comments, and just appearing in my inbox genuinely it makes my day thank you! And I hope you enjoy!

Angel Dust took great pride in his Italian heritage and culture, as he was truly Italian.

Unfortunately he lived with a centuries old Eldritch horror who may or may not have lived in Europe during the bubonic plague and didn't understand the more "modern'' Italian or Italy at all, and others that didn't understand the "sacredness" of the Italians.

🍝The spaghetti.🍝

You took over cooking in the hotel, you and Alastor had begun fighting over the kitchen, whoever got there first got to cook and today, you were victorious.

You were exploring new recipes you had thus far made spicy tteokbokki and Korean corn dogs, some type of curry that was sonic blue, teriyaki chicken, hummus and other things! You experimented with different flavors, seasonings,

These tasty things would've ended you if you ate it back when you were alive and not dying of the bubonic plague.

Anyways, you decided to give making spaghetti a try because you were in the mood for something fairly easy to make.

As you perused the recipe book while humming along to the songs playing from Alastor's radio show, you nodded noting down the ingredients before pulling out the phone that the little Imp that worked for you had bought you insisting you should have one to contact her instead of hunting her down at random and dragging her away.

You squinted as you scrolled through the few contacts you had until you reached said imp's phone number and slowly texted her a barrage of ingredients to buy.

Cece carefully opened the hotel doors and skittered over to the kitchen, having memorized the route since she delivered ingredients to you almost daily at this point.

You grinned as you took the ingredients from Cece's hands turning around to place them on the counter while she pulled up a chair and sat down waiting for the inevitable "Dear Cece can you cut this" or "Dear Cece can you stir this"

You washed off the tomatoes before slicing in an x and blanching them, you peeled the tomatoes after and diced them up before putting them aside to cut up yellow onions, you gathered them up and placed them into a pan, sprinkling in salt to unleashed the onion liquids and sweetness.

You added in some prechopped garlic and let it saute.

While that was happening you took the tomatoes and crushed them, once done you combined the tomatoes with the rest letting it simmer.

You added other components like herbs, basil and a little olive old at the end just for fun.

You filled up another pot with water to boil, sprinkling a twinge of salt and stirring it in.

You brushed your hands on your apron, as you scooted around to find the box of spaghetti noodles, grinning you opened it and take out the pasta.

It was at this unfortunate moment Angel dust decided to waltz on into the kitchen, intending to see what was for dinner and maybe snag something to munch on, you held the dry pasta over the pot, both hands gripping the ends

"Hey tentacles, what's for- WHAT THE FUCK!''

"Good evening Dearest Angel! I'm making spaghetti!"

You said unfazed as the pasta snapped in half and dropped into the pot as Angel dust watched in pure horror.

"Why would you do that?!" Angel asked, his voice pitched as he asked arms gesturing to the pot of sad broken pasta boiling away.

"Make spaghetti? I didn't think it was such a controversial meal"

"No! You broke the pasta! That's like the biggest sin ya can do! What is wrong with ya?"

"We're already in hell, I don't think sins matter much here," Cece popped in, you jumped slightly forgetting the imp was there.

"They do when it comes to' fuckin' pasta toots!"

Angel dust shouted before promptly turning around and leaving the kitchen, leaving you completely confused and Cece amused, unfortunately her amusement turned into irritation as you asked her to grab the ground beef and roll it into balls so you could cook them because meatballs.

During dinner time your spaghetti was a hit!

Charlie complimented your cooking saying you outdid yourself while Vaggie was grabbing a second serving, Sir Pentious enjoyed slurping up the noodles, Niffty kept stabbing the meatballs foe whatever reason, Husk seemed to enjoy the meal however Angel dust had one pair of arms crossed while he reluctantly ate, it was good he could admit but he knew the sin that you had committed while cooking, he knew that innocent pasta had been broken.

Angel dust almost died a second time when he walked into the kitchen later that night for a midnight snack and witnessed a probably drunk Husk eating leftover spaghetti pasta with ketchup because the sauce you had made was on a higher shelf in the refrigerator and he didn't feel like climbing.

🍕 pineapple pizza time.🍕

You and Alastor had... For lack of better words got into a little fight over the kitchen, tentacles, shadows, mild mind control and other things were used until Vaggie stepped in and separated the two of you,

It was decided that pizza would be ordered for the hotel, much to Alastor's disapproval.

Cheese, pepperoni, pineapple and ham, and supreme were the pizzas ordered unbeknownst to Angel dust since he was coming back to the hotel from a hangout with Cherri.

"Angel! Welcome back we ordered pizza!" Charlie said waving the spider over as Vaggie placed the pizza boxes onto the table.

"Great! I'm starvin'!" Angel walked over just in time to see the box containing pineapple pizza opened up.

"Nevermind I'll starve."

"We have other pizzas Angel."

Vaggie did not get paid enough to deal with this, she didn't even get paid!

Angel dust was extremely disappointed in you, you were the one to suggest getting pineapple pizza because you quote, "Never had it before and wanted to try it",

You were well over a few centuries old, you weren't a child, you had gone to hell and become an overlord that rained terror for a couple of years and therefore you should've been able to tell that pineapple on pizza was a crime against humanity, so what if pizza wasn't a thing during your time, it was a thing that came to be while you were down here!

He had later lectured you about it, it was amusing to you! You were a feared overlord and yet this little Italian guy had the gull to lecture you, this was normal in families right? To not be afraid of each other? How wonderful!

The lecture eventually switched over to Husk who was eating pizzas folded which was just weird because he was just tasting the crust! What about the cheese? The sauce? THE SAUCE HUSK? DO YOU NOT TASTE IT?

Husk was too sober for the lecture, Alastor found it amusing though.

🇮🇹Italian PowerPoint presentation 🇮🇹

"Alright tentacles, we're havin' a intervention!" Angel dust said throwing his hands down on the coffee table as you sipped something from a teacup, probably tea.

"Is what you dragged us here for? This shit?"

Husk was here, how did he always get dragged into these things? Niffty was beside him trying to stab a roach, Charlie and Vaggie were out of the hotel, Alastor was hell knew where, probably doing radio stuff and Angel dust had somehow tracked down your assistant and dragged her there.

"Oh! Whatever for dearie?" You asked head tilted as you placed your cup on the table,

"You've committed so many fuckin' crimes in the past week! Ya' broke the pasta before puttin' it in the pot! Ya' put cream in the carbonara! Ya ate pineapple on pizza, I get we're in hell but are ya fuckin' kiddin' me?-" Angel moved his arms around to empathize his point "Not to mention that little fusion stunt, ya' deranged octopus!"

You hummed thinking about the meals you've made recently before responding, "I don't think I made anything bad?"

"You decided to put tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni on cooked ramen and stuck it in da' oven and ate it."

"It wasn't as good as the little people on the interwebs said."

"OF COURSE IT WASN'T GOOD IT WAS A CRIME! IT CAME OUT OF THE DEEPS OF HELL."

"Eh, it wasn't that bad" Cece popped in to stir the pot, Angel slowly turned around becoming slightly more spidery

"The fuck did ya just say?"

Cece shrugged, "Food's expensive and I need to eat."

Cece was picked up and thrown on the couch with you as Angel dust set up a PowerPoint presentation about the history of Italian food and whatever else, You did not want to be here you'd rather be drinking your drink in peace, Husk didn't want to be here he'd rather be drinking, your hellborn imp assistant didn't want to be here, she's never going to Italy she didn't need to know this and Niffty, well she's still stabbing things on the floor.

By the time Charlie and Vaggie returned you had zoned out completely and your mind was elsewhere, Niffty was napping on your shoulder, Cece had escaped by asking Angel if garlic bread was Italian and while he went on that tangent she ran out abandoning everyone.

Husk was more dead inside then per usual, he wasn't paid enough for this, the first hour was fine but this had been going on for five hours at this point, how did Angel dust manage to drag this PowerPoint presentation out so long?

Vaggie shut it down after it was realized that you weren't responding and they thought you had somehow died,

You did not die and you eventually snapped out of it when a white cloth was put over you in order to hide the body.

Good evening folks! Thank you for turning on in! I hope you enjoyed, my apologies for taking forever to get this out, if your wondering why it feels like there's a missing gap that's because I wrote a whole lil' thing of reader and Alastor combining forces to annoy Angel and I accidentally deleted it.

I'm gonna rewrite it eventually and add it to a different fic with Eldritch horror reader, also If your wondering why I have an imp OC in here there is a reason with Eldritch horror and their family complex you'll see eventually

I'll be getting the readers backstory which will be the 200 follower special out [hopefully] soon so tune on in for that! Thank you again have a wonderful day!

[undiscovered-horizon]

Cold Blood - Coriolanus Snow x assassin!Reader

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

***Third person POV + Can be read as either "x reader" or "x OC", just as long as you have fun babes. Thinking about making this like a loose series? idk

SUMMARY: Coriolanus thought that arranging Basil Flatberg's death was arduous. He's about to learn just how complicated things can get when he learns that his despicable actions have been noticed by someone or something. The stranger claims to be an ally but can a person so passionate about murder be worthy of trust?

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.2k

The rain is thundering against the windows, a painful reminder that summer is long gone and the upcoming weeks will be drowned in cold and darkness. Except for a few cars, the streets of the Capitol are deserted. Freezing, biting wind howls as it pulls and tugs at everything it can lay its hands on. A thunder rolls in the distance, loud and ominous as though mountains have been split in two. The sky appears rancorous this evening. 

If Coriolanus had a speck of poetry in him, he’d think the black clouds hanging over the Capitol are akin to the swirling thoughts inside his head. Albeit, he is a pragmatic man and such colourful comparisons escape him.

His home is drowned in darkness when he enters. The rhythmic ticking of the old clock is barely audible over the hollering of the storm. Although not a sound of life can be heard in these four walls, an aroma of gravy and soap fills the air: Tigris and Grandmother must have retired early. 

Coriolanus guides his hand to turn on the overhead light when he notices a stripe of glow under the door to his bedroom. How strange - he could clearly remember turning off the bedside lamp when he was leaving in the morning.

Cagily, he turns the brass knob and pushes the door open. The hinges creak shrilly, slowly unravelling the inside of the room:

The bedside lamp is, indeed, on. It shines a faint, unpleasantly yellow light. The bed he had carefully made after waking up is left untouched - not an unfamiliar wrinkle on the expensive, dark duvet. His eyes glide along the sleek material towards the large window. 

He clenches his fist and takes a sharp inhale. Coriolanus Snow is startled.

On the windowsill is sitting someone - a nimble silhouette dressed in various shades of grey. Their back is leaning against the wall, one leg propped up and the other casually hanging in the air. Dexterous fingers keep flipping a knife. The blade flows through the air, time and time again performing the same motion of doing a full circle, only to be caught at an angle that doesn’t seem to change either. Although not instantly, Coriolanus does recognize the weapon as an old filleting knife he keeps in the drawer of his bedside table. ‘Just in case,’ as he told himself once.

But what strikes him as the strangest about this already bizarre encounter is that she's completely dry, even though it's been raining for a few hours now.

"Sweating and breathing, Panting and screaming," a female voice resounds in his bedroom. She recites the poem in a comically dramatic tone. "Didn’t think I’d ever see him." The woman turns the blade in her skilled fingers, suddenly pointing its sharp tip at Coriolanus. "But I heard and so did you, The thud and smack of the steel-toed shoe." Suddenly, the woman taps her foot against the windowsill three times. “Dancing to the beat of that drum, Lolling head and swollen tongue. A baseline! “She exclaims with a theatrical gesture. “A crescendo!” Like the unbearable tension before the climax, her dramatics are brought to a halt as she hangs her voice and lays the knife against her chest. “A guttural moan when the thing was done.”

Only when she leans forward can Coriolanus see her face. The dim light of his bedside lamp is enough only to illuminate a part visage. Despite that, the twilight of his bedroom is sufficient for him to be certain that nothing about her features is familiar.

"Basil Flatberg fell dead in his own house, among friends and family,” she continues, although her voice is rid of dramatics. “Poison! They said. Which would be awfully sad if it wasn't so..." The unwelcome guest waves her hand looking for a suitable word. "Anti-climatic. Really, Coryo, you could do so much better,” she reprimands him with visible disappointment.

Coriolanus feels his blood turn cold. There is nothing that ties him to the premature demise of Basil. He’s made sure of that. So how come she knows? Has he missed out on a prying set of eyes? Ears, perhaps?

"Who are you?" he asks in a stern voice. Despite the tension inside him, Coriolanus doesn’t let his voice waver.

She does a half-hearted, mocking bow. A playful grin curves her lips. "A specialist at unfortunate accidents, if you will."

It’s not said directly, the important things rarely are, but Coriolanus knows there is only one reason such a ‘specialist’ would visit his bedroom in the late hours of a rainy evening.

Thunder rolls in the distance. Lightning splits the black sky in two. Quite fitting circumstances for the last night alive.

His mind is galloping as he’s considering all the possibilities of surviving this encounter. He may have his fair share of experience in the morbid matters but that doesn’t compare to someone who’s been doing this for years. "So you've come to kill me?" Coriolanus questions, hoping to buy himself a few more minutes.

But the stranger only chuckles.

The woman, whoever she really is, once again point the sharp tip of the filleting knife at Coriolanus. "That's where the dog is buried, my friend,” she says with amusement. The knife glides through the air as she resumes flipping it. “I come it peace. Even better!” Coriolanus closely watches the blade as it makes a few more turns mid-air. The visitor doesn’t catch it with their hand. The knife falls on their hanging foot, nestling perfectly on top of the worn-down work boot. With a swift move of her ankle, she tosses the blade towards Coriolanus. It lays at his feet, glistening in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. “I come with a proposal of an alliance of sorts,” she continues. A satisfied chuckle rumbles in her chest. “Oh, I know that look. You're curious. Good! You see, Coryo, you and I are not so different.” She points between him and her. “The plotting, the opportunistic tendencies, the disregard for morality or human life. Except for the unfortunate limelight. Whether you like it or not, you're kind of a public figure now. And public figures look awful behind prison bars, with blood on their hands. Say, if you could have the ability to have some inconveniences removed without as much as lifting a finger and in return you'd do a small favour every now and then, would you?"

Would you sign away your soul to the Devil?

Yet unsure how he’s supposed to feel about the change of the scenario, Coriolanus is all the more eager to learn about the identity of his unwelcome guest. "I won't ask the third time: who are you?" Anger drips from his words like a cornered animal that turns fear into violence. She has complete control over this situation and it’s making his skin crawl.

"Let's put it this way. If the world was a coronation, all of you self-important Capitol pricks are the princes,” she lays her hand on her chest, “while I'm the bishop."

He ponders her words for a moment. The stranger doesn’t strike him as someone who just runs their mouth - no, each of her words is carefully selected. Her analogy has another, hidden, meaning that is not lot on his quick wit.

"If you're the bishop,” he begins, piercing blue eyes studying all of the nonverbal cues he can see in the twilight of the room, “then who's the pope?"

A smile curves her lips once more. She’s amused, satisfied even. Which in turn means that, so far, Coriolanus is doing exactly what she wants him to do. The ambitious, young man is seething. He’s found himself in the eye of the storm with only basic knowledge on how to navigate restless tides.

"Excellent question!” she exclaims. “I can already tell we're going to get along. I speak in the name of Lucky Jade. She has a lot of emissaries, scattered across Panem. Some pose as simple workers, others as socialites. And some, like yours truly, live away from the public eye."

The notion that there’s some unknown persona pulling the proverbial strings is equally asinine and entirely probable. Panem, after all, is ruled by deplorable schemes and back-stabbing. Who’s to say that there isn’t some higher power orchestrating these morbid dramatics?

Still, no matter how plausible such things are, Coriolanus is a pragmatic man. Hearsays and gossips, as useful and lovely as they are, will always be inferior to material evidence. And such evidence, if she can provide it, might tell him more about the identity of the stranger than she’s willing to admit. "That's a lot of extraordinary claims you're making,” he states, new wave of confidence coursing through his veins. “You better have some proof."

Much to his satisfaction, the woman takes something out of her pocket. It’s small, metallic. The object glistens in the low light of the lamp when she tosses it towards him.

The supposed evidence in his hand is… a ring. It’s made out of silver. There’s an engraving of thorns wrapped around a fish on the inside of the band. Long years of wear and tear have flattened and dulled the image but it remains clear enough to be read.

"I'm always prepared, Coryo.” The nickname has a hint of mockery when she says it. “July, three years ago, district Four. Clover Pitforest, the only daughter of Caspian Thorneforge, dies in a lakehouse fire. Her husband, Fellord Pitforest, is in town, taking care of some business. Officially, the fire started from a lit cigarette that fell on wooden boards and set fresh resin aflame. Not that Clover ever smoked. After the fire is put out and the crispy bones of the fishmongering princess are found, another discovery is made: the jewellery box is gone. Now, you might think to yourself why would a thief set the house on fire but then, why shouldn't a barking dog bite? Good old Caspian breaks down and signs away his fishmongering fortune to Fellord.” The woman returns to her theatrics as she dramatically put the back of her hand against her forehead. “Oh, what a shame, that mister Pitforest has to live the life of a revered widower bathing in obscene wealth.” Then, she spreads her hands in a grand, welcoming gesture. “And they lived happily ever after, or something to that effect."

"Alright, let's say I agree to your proposal. What sort of favours would I have to do?"

"Nothing gory, if that's what you're asking. Unless that’s what gets you going. You see, Coryo, the thing about influential people is that the smallest of their deeds carry immense power. The fact that you say 'yes' to one question and 'no' to the other; whether you show up at an event or leave right before the self-absorbed host makes his pointless speech. All that will be asked of you is to simply be in the right place at the right time. Ask a question, mention an event or a name. Gently nudge the world in a certain direction like water carves the stone over long centuries." She mimics a flowing wave with her hand to get her point across.

But, like older people tend to say, he’s not been hit in the crown of his head. Coriolanus Snow is as smart as a Devil. Maybe even too smart for his own good.

"This all seems too easy to be true, don't you think? I find it hard to believe that you will kill someone if I agree to be ‘in the right place at the right time’ as you have elegantly put it."

"Believe," she muses, slowly nodding. "A strange word indeed. You must believe if there's not enough proof that something is real. I'm not asking you to believe, Coryo. I'm stating a fact of life. I'm asking you to know." A moment of tense silence falls between them. The woman fishes out an old fob watch from her grey jacket. Something must have surprised her because her eyebrows raise as she looks at the pocket watch. "We've been chatting for quite a while and a thunderstorm is perfect weather to fulfil some of my responsibilities. I'm afraid we'll have to part ways, for now. If you're willing to give our cooperation a try, just find someone with a vulture pin. They'll let me know."

He’s not yet done with her, so Coriolanus doesn’t move from his spot in front of the door. If she wants to go, she’ll have to go through him and that’s not happening anytime soon. Although she’s told him quite a lot about what kind of business she wants from him, Coriolanus is aware that he’s barely scraped the tip of this bizarre iceberg.

Just when he’s about to say something, egg her on to tell more, thunder roars and a purple vein of lightning crashes near the building. For a moment, Coriolanus’s bedroom is bright as though it’s daytime before it drowns in complete darkness. Some part of the wiring must have been struck.

Perhaps a minute passes by until the light turns on again. But to his surprise, Coriolanus is alone in his bedroom. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was all a hallucination brought on by illness or stress. Nothing indicates that a stranger has trespassed into his home. Everything is disturbingly undisturbed.

Albeit the ring is still in his hand and the filleting knife still lays at his feet. 

The next day, as he’s making his way to Doctor Gaul’s office, Coriolanus convinces himself to put the strange encounter aside until the proverbial viper comes back to bite. He is going to be Panem’s next president and even an intimidating stranger in the night can not dissuade him.

His footsteps echo through the cream-coloured halls. Someone passes him and says a half-hearted ‘Good morning’ but Coriolanus ignores them. He keeps on walking.

A cleaner is mopping the floor close to the wall. Whether it’s her attire or her small frame, she’s almost invisible to the man. Not that servants have any kind of presence to them. That is until something glistens as he’s walking past her.

A pin.

Coriolanus stops dead in his tracks. He takes a good look at the cleaner, only to realize he recognizes her - he’s seen her quite a few times cleaning windows and mopping bathroom floors at the Academy. Despite his memory working as it should, he can not recall whether she’s always had this bronze pin in the shape of a bird of prey. Surely, he’d notice such an out-of-place accessory.

A strange emotion overtakes him. The feeling of being seen through, as though he had been stripped naked and displayed for public humiliation. How long have these ‘emissaries’ been following him? Stalking his every movement?

How much does the woman in grey actually know?

If he wasn’t sure before, he is now - someone who might know him inside-out makes for a dangerous foe. His empire could fall before he has a good chance to start it.

Not caring for etiquette, Coriolanus harshly grabs the cleaner’s arm. She turns around, her body language speaking of fear but the calculated calmness in her hazel eyes shows anything but. The vulture pin sits proudly on her chest, right above where her heart’s supposed to be.

“Tell her I agree,” he barks at the maid.

The cleaner changes her demeanour instantaneously. Her body relaxes as she learns she can drop her A-grade act in front of him. Visibly offended, she yanks her arm out of his tight grasp.

“At once, sir,” she forces herself to sound polite but her eyes throw daggers at the blond man. In an ostentatious manner, she fixes the sleeve of her white shirt.

Coriolanus continues his quick walk towards Gaul’s office. He’s a few minutes late but that’s hardly his fault. How was he supposed to know he was going to run a friend of his most unwelcome guest?

When he enters the spacious room, Gaul is not alone. The woman standing next to her is looking through a folder, nodding along to the Doctor’s monologue. From time to time, the stranger asks a single question or gives a short answer.

It is only when the two women notice his presence that Coriolanus feels his heart drop for the second time this morning. Standing there, in a grey skirt and a matching grey jacket, is the very same person who had trespassed into his bedroom last night. She’s clutching the dossier close to her chest. Her legs are glued together. Contrary to just a few hours prior, she appears timid. 

“And here he is,” Gaul’s voice echoes through the surgically white room. The irate tone of her voice is not lost on Coriolanus.

The stranger he met last night gives him a soft smile. She extends her arm, offering a polite handshake. "I don't think we've been introduced, mister...?"

"Snow,” he answers shaking her hand. He’s carefully studying her features but no matter how closely he examines her expression, nothing about it indicates that she’s putting up an act. By all means, this facade appears genuine. “Coriolanus Snow."

Her face lights up in a way so innocent, it makes him sick to his stomach. “One night I saw a snowflake fall. Past memories it did recall. And as the snow fell to the ground, So quietly without a sound, I watched until a blanket made, To glistening white - brown earth did fade.” Coriolanus feels a cold shiver run down his spine as the woman quotes the poem. This part about her is familiar. Judging by the knowing look in her eyes, this time, too, there is more to her words than just their surface-level meaning. Then, the familiarity disappears as she breaks into nervous laughter. "I'm sorry, it's a force of habit. My late father used to teach literature. Pleased to make your acquaintance, mister Snow."

The foreign accent, the syntax... It’s almost as though the woman in front of him is a completely different person. In some sense, she is.

"Likewise,” he hears himself slowly answer. How come this situation is only getting weirder by the second?

Then she simply leaves his side, walking towards the door. The way she moves is so ordinary, Coriolanus finds it hard to believe that the very same woman simply vanished in front of his eyes the night before.

‘Believe,’ he catches his thoughts. ‘A strange word indeed.’

"Tomorrow morning, miss Bishop and not a minute later,” Gaul calls after the woman.

Coriolanus fights hard against himself to control his expression. Bishop? It’s almost as if the whole point of this lark was to prove to him how far Lucky Jade’s roots reach. If this person, whoever they really are, can fabricate a persona to get her into the Ministry of War, she must be someone worth knowing. Even better - someone worth befriending.

"Of course, doctor Gaul,” she answers. Her eyes switch from the Doctor to Snow’s face. “I take pride in my work.”

Just like last night, when thunder rumbled and rain thudded on his windows, the woman disappears. Despite the answers she provided, he’s left with many more questions.

And just like yesterday, the lack of control leaves him seething.

___

The poems used are "A Snowflake Falls" by Ruth Adams and "Fin" by Collic

[fortuneravine]

official fortuneravine oc post

so you guys actually know who i'm talking about!! wahoo!!!!

Team Campfire - Fig (cyndaquil, she/any) + Chive (chikorita, she/her)

fig: not much of a talker, it's hard to get a read on her. her shyness gets read as being cool and mysterious, which she's fine with. content with her pokemon form, but takes a long time to get comfortable in it. has accidentally set more than a few things on fire

chive: much more outgoing than her partner, she does most of the talking for the team. very passionate about food and cooking, she hopes to open a cafe one day. always experimenting with random nuts and berries, with a little help from fig's flames

Team Obsidian - Mistral (totodile, she/they) + Cinder (vulpix, she/they)

mistral: seemingly has absolutely no sense of danger of self preservation, she's reckless and hardly ever thinks things through. scares the shit out of cinder on a daily basis by doing something stupid. a bit of a self-sacrificial idiot, they get it from grovyle

cinder: anxiety incarnate. absolute wet cat of a fox. she's wanted to be an explorer her whole life, but getting badly injured in a dungeon scared her away from it for a long time. much more calm and confident nowadays, getting dragged into dangerous situations by a certain gator forced her to get over a lot of her fears

Team Hydra - Ceru (oshawott, she/xe) + Olivine (axew, he/they)

ceru: the funny one. you may know her from my critically acclaimed shitposts. xe's the oshknwott that works at subway. didn't have a whole lot going for xem as a human, she's much happier with her life as a pokemon

olivine: ollie to his friends. absolute guy. kind to a fault. he loves to feel useful and help other pokemon, to the point they forgets to look after themself. loves his friends and will fight anyone who is mean to them

The Rapids- Mistral (totodile, she/they) + Basil (riolu, they/them)

mistral: yeah the same guy from team obsidian. don't ask me how that works in lore, i don't know. this version is a bit younger

basil: let's hear it for kids with Problems!!!! they're around 12 years old, with all the accompanying issues that come with being around 12 years old. they tend to come off as overly enthusiastic or annoying, they really struggled to make friends until mist came along. they put on a brave face, but they've got hella insecurities

[clonebabybasil]

roleplay account for my oc, basil wayne khan

OOC: i'm 18, my name's apollo and she/they pronouns, BST

ABOUT BASIL (short version)

essentially he’s a clone of bruce wayne and minhkhoa khan. he was made by tim drake. the process started when bruce had “died” and then abandoned after tim went off to find bruce. then when kon died and tim was trying to clone him, he messed around with continuing to make the bruce & khoa clone (honestly khoa’s DNA was an accident) to see what he was doing wrong with kon’s cloning but he was not expecting it to work. then it worked and basil was created. then tim dumped basil at the manor and tried to repeat the process to make kon clones.

at this point, for this blog, only tim and bruce are aware who basil is a clone of, basil knows he’s bruce’s clone but he’s unaware of minhkhoa, and minhkhoa doesn’t know at all.

basil is 15 years old, but he’s chronologically 2 years old. he’s smart though, since he’s literally the clone of bruce “world’s greatest detective” wayne

feel free to interact and send asks!!

- my main is @duskdawnallen

- my damian wayne rp blog is @thetruerobin

- my tim drake rp blog is @tdrakeofficial

-rp posts for basil will be tagged #clonebaby and his vigilante posts will be tagged #ghostecho

[i-can-not-art]

girl gimme a ref sheet or sm for ur fav oc and gimme a bit of backstory, basil I beg of u I will only need this to finally fill my craving of drawing ur oc, like ahhshahahshshhah I love ur art sm lol

anyways heyy hruuu

Omg thank you I’m so glad you like my art 😭

Also I like never make refs for my OCs (keep all their designs in my mindscape) but here’s a little thing for my bbg midge jshanajehbaja thx for drawing them🙏

Uhhhhh okay so basically “The Event” was when aliens and humans met, at first relations were good, but then it was found a disease the aliens carried over was incredibly fatal to humans, a couple years later and ~95% of earth’s population is dead and the remains ~5% have immunity, but most are left with physical damage/disabilities.

Midge (who at this point is still just “Meng Guo”) is infected and barely survives, and when they wake up from a coma to find the earth completely different, he takes this as a chance to run away from his past and become a new person basically, taking on the name Midge and acting completely different.

I also yap about their lore a little in this post