𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃

you cannot destroy me.           i destroy me. nazrin atem-sharif. superbia. xxvii. she/her. as penned by lia.

[nazrinas]

𝕸𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖌 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝕲𝖊𝖙 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖘 𝕮𝖚𝖙 𝕺𝖋𝖋

𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗜𝗢

𝗗𝗬𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗖𝗦

𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔 

Although she was born in New York City, Nazrin spent a good portion of her life in Egypt, where her parents are from. 

Nazrin majored in linguistics with a fine arts minor. She is the person her family sends to handle large deals with other companies.

By the age of seven, Nazrin was fluent in 4 languages. She presently knows 10, and has every intention of learning more. (Arabic, English, Spanish, French, Swahili, Amharic, Italian, Japanese, Portuguese, and several French Creole variations)

Nazrin is a heavy drinker and frequent drug user, and has only increased her intake with Gula’s death. Hallucinogens were always her favorite (LSD, shrooms, etc.), but she’s begun using stimulants more frequently after several bad (gula related) trips.

Nazrin is excellent at handwriting forgery. 

[lcvesque]

𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐀.  ╱   nazrin atem-sharif  &  julian de cervantes (carina evangelista)

  poem without a hero & selected poems, anna akhmatova // duckie thot “the gun song” car seat headrest  // gayarsonist  // “intimacy” by angelica alzona // bridget o’bernstein, “how to be a body” + franz kafka, letters to milena //  i don’t want to live a small life, mary olive // francesco hayez, vengeance is sworn, detail, 1851 //  “balance of terror” star trek

[unbotheredmuse]

duckie thot

[nazrinas]

𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗔 & 𝗝𝗔𝗬𝗔.

@nazrinas & @bcloveds location: hotel amare, restaurant date: 1st july, 2021 time: 1pm

Traitors though they may be, Jaya was quietly satisfied that with her mere arrival, she still had the power to shock and awe this particular group. An old, undead part of her sought out the respect she had once earned from them that had been denied to her for so many years, her replacement an inadequate counterpart, undeserving of the honour. Yet arriving itself was not enough to feed the gaping maw in her chest that cried out for chaos. Julian would never have settled for this, and so she wouldn’t either. Inviting her former nemesis and nemesis’ best friend out to lunch seemed a suitable next step in causing the tremors she hoped would shake loose new information.

She doesn’t rise when the other two women arrive, nor when they are guided over to the table by the overly enthusiastic hostess. But she watches, sharp and unyielding gaze trained on them as they approach, their every movement noted and stored away for reference. As they reach her, Jaya reclines in her seat, leaning back into a patch of sunlight that illuminates her in gold but fails utterly in making her look warm. A champagne flute, half full, is held casually in one hand. “Welcome, ladies,” she begins, with a smile that could possibly pass as genuine to those who didn’t know her. “Carina, you’re as lovely as ever. And Nazrin. Gosh, haven’t you… matured. Sit, please.”

She sits forward again, posture military precise. “Thank you both for coming. I hope you don’t mind that I ordered a bottle of champagne. I always feel as though reunions deserve champagne.” With a flick of her wrist, a nearby waiter immediately pulls the bottle from its ice bucket and fills the two empty glasses. “Are you both enjoying being back at the house? Viviana tells me that you all seem to be quite excitable.” A slight quirk of the head. “Almost as much as the last time you were here.”

An invitation was never quite simple just been an invitation— Nazrin recognized the challenge for what it was. To not attend would be to back down, and that was never an option. Even if it meant suffering by being in close proximity with Carina for several hours. Jaya’s resurrection still didn’t feel quite real, but neither did the majority of the events that unfolded since her arrival. Little time existed for her to become accustomed to her present circumstances— not when everything was bound to change at any given moment. Action was the only option. She understood this now. 

She’d arrived on her own— not bothering to make correspondence with Carina beforehand. Perhaps if this had occurred several nights earlier, they would’ve coordinated their arrivals— but things were rather different now. 

Nazrin meets Jaya’s gaze with steely, apathetic expression— not even offering so much a curt nod in greeting. This was not an encounter with old friends— there’d been no need to pretend otherwise. “Jaya,” she professed aloofly, not making any attempt to hide her disinterest. “You look darling, same as always. Much more put together than when I saw you last.” She takes her seat, eyes still leveled in the woman’s direction.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she says with a trace of a smile— as if to say she’d become a willing participant in whatever game Jaya hoped to play. “Of course not. I’d never object to any champagne. It’s lovely for all occasions— the good, the bad, the ugly.”

Still, she has not glanced in Carina’s direction. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she’d be able to forget she was there. “I always enjoy being reunited with my dearest friends. It’s a shame you hadn’t arrived earlier to join in on the festivities.” She sips the champagne, swallowing away her truest feelings regarding the dearest matriarch. “I’m not surprised to hear she said that, though. She’s always had her own… unique way of seeing things.” Or not seeing things— depending on how one wanted to put it. “It’s difficult to not be on edge in a house with such a vivid history of this one. Coming from someone whose actually lived in it for some time.” She leans back ever so slightly in her seat. “Surely there must be some other you’ve invited us here. Reasons outside of knowing about how much of a blast we’ve been having without you.”

[nazrinas]

—     𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  :   𝐈.  𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄.

LADY MACBETH / THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH — “Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood, stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between the effect and it! Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, that my keen knife see not the wound it makes, nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, to cry ‘hold, hold!’”

CLEOPATRA / ANTONY & CLEOPATRA — “Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have immortal longings in me...”

HERA / HERA’S REBELLION AGAINST ZEUS (x) — “Though Hera remained faithful to Zeus, Zeus often betrayed her by sleeping with others. So, when Zeus was harsh on the other gods, Hera talked them into a revolt against Zeus. Hera drugged Zeus and the other gods bound him on his bed and stole his thunderbolt. However, Briareus, who had been freed by Zeus from the prison Tartarus, overheard their conversation and realized that Zeus was tied. He sneaked in and untied the king of the gods. Zeus woke up and was furious. He hung Hera from the heavens with golden shackles. Hera cried all night but no one dared to help her. The next day Zeus showed her mercy and released her but only after he made her swear that she would never again plot and rebel against him.”

KING / FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE — I need my golden crown of sorrow, my bloody sword to swing / My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology / I am no mother, I am no bride, I am King.

ASUKA LANGLEY SORYU / NEON GENESIS EVANGELION (x) — “People might hate me or diss me. It doesn't matter, as long as I can pilot my Eva. After all, that's all I'm worth. I'll make my body and heart strong so I don't need anyone. So... praise me. Recognize me. Give me a place where I can be. I'm actually lonely.”

[nazrinas]

𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐕: 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍— 𝐍.𝐀.𝐒. [𝐗]

generally uneventful, though she stands her ground.

[nazrinas]

“on the day of her execution, she appeared in her customary black cloak and with a white veil over her head. She then dropped the cloak to reveal a crimson red dress.” —anonymous, on mary, queen of scots

if it was a spectacle her not-quite-mother-in-law wanted, then it was a spectacle she would get. 

only the best for mother dearest. a theme so grotesque should only be met with the same intensity, which is why nazrin decided on mary, queen of scots, the once queen who was decidedly executed for her treasonous, murder plot against her cousin, elizabeth i. she enters the room, face concealed with a white veil, draped in a black cloak, only to later reveal a transparent, shimmering nightgown, one reminiscent of trickling blood or a budding flame. the staff member she enlisted for her entrance (after offering a sum that amounted to several months pay with the de cervantes) trailed nearby holding a velvet cushion, one meant to allude at the cushion that once displayed the queen’s head following her execution. it dually function as an invitation— a provocation, even. for viviana— for her companions— for the world. 

as she greets the hostess of the evening, she smiles upon remembering mary was rumored to have played a role in one of the death’s of her husband.

                              —LONG LIVE THE QUEEN.

[kaxbrekker]

“It is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.”

— Jorge Luis Borges, A New Refutation of Time (via 89words)

[candycandymemes]

Send ❓  and my muse will answer all questions honestly.    

Does my muse trust yours?   

Does my muse dislike yours?

Would my muse kill someone for yours?

Would my muse kill your muse?

Would my muse save yours? 

Does my muse find your muse attractive? 

Is my muse disgusted by yours? 

would my muse go on a date with your muse?  

would my muse kiss yours?  

would my muse betray yours?   

my muse’s favorite thing about yours is ____

the thing my muse dislikes about yours is_____

[virusinfected-memes]

THREE (3) CHOICES ;

Send an emoji below + three (3) different characters / muses that my muse must pick from! Some choices are considered ns / fw.

💍 - fuck, marry, kill. 💎 - unsex, divorce, revive. 💋 - hug, cuddle, kiss. 💫 - fight, tickle, insult. 🦋 - befriend, adopt, ignore. 🥊 - pinch, slap, punch. ✨ - summon, banish, absorb. 🔗 - handcuff, tie up, pin down. 🦷 - lick, suck, bite. 🗳️ - vote for, vote against, run against. ☕ - get coffee with, go out to dinner with, steal their food. 💤 - sleep with fully clothed, sleep with in underwear, sleep with naked. 💰 - rob a bank with, hide a body with, rat out to the cops. 🚦 - be stuck in an elevator with, be stuck in traffic with, be stuck in the apocalypse with. 🎉 - hang out with, party with, ghost. 🔛 - make love to, have a quickie with, be rough / kinky with. 🍪 - make cookies for, make a five-course meal for, burn all their food. 🔪 - protect, attack, fight side-by-side with. 💬 - SEND IN YOUR OWN THREE OPTIONS NOT LISTED ABOVE!

[gaycommunist]

14.08.21

[nazrinas]

𝗜𝗡𝗩𝗜𝗗𝗜𝗔.

Hadrian made poor decisions - especially when he was superbly wasted. 

It had gotten into his mind that it would be a brilliant idea to attempt a midnight escape. And the only person who seemed fucked enough in the mind to join him was Nazrin. He snorted at the snide comments she had, ever so optimistic - ever the same. “Nothing a little bit of plastic surgery can’t fix,” he joked, his words slurred as he slung one leg around the pole as his hands attempted to grip upward on the rungs. 

“You can try it shoeless, it’s not like that shit’s going to help your grip. It’s about the thighs Naz,” he nearly shouted. Perhaps he was out of his mind but well, he had eaten a cake made to look like a horse. So this was nothing quite new for the likes of him.  

She bites back a smirk, in attempt to conceal her amusement at the suggestion— not wanting to further encourage Hadrian in his intoxicated state. He hadn’t been wrong in his assessment of plastic surgery, but that didn’t made his plan any less ludicrous. “And who do you suppose will rope me into harebrained schemes during your recovery period?” Nazrin inquires, hands pressed firmly against her hips. “Typical of you not to consider to bigger picture.”

In all fairness, Nazrin was nowhere near sober herself, though this only aided her somewhat in warming up to the idea. Actually being face to face with gate changed matters entirely. “I go shoeless, I chip my toenail polish, or even worse, I get a blister. Then what?” To her knowledge, the De Cervantes did not have a nail technician on staff. “Perhaps it’s best I see you in action first. To ensure I’m properly utilizing my thighs.” She looked at Hadrian expectantly.

[nazrinas]

𝗪𝗛𝗢 —  @hadrianvilliers​ 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 — the de cervantes’s fence 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 — friday, june 18th

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nazrin utters under her breath, arms laced perplexedly across her chest. She takes in the tall, elegant fence, and the impossibility of scaling it continues to dawn on her further. It being nighttime couldn’t have helped either. “You’re going to break your face or your ass. Or both. Who would you be without either?” 

She’d foolishly accompanied Hadrian to the outskirts of the De Cervantes property, an abettor to his attempted escape. Somehow, even after knowing him for all those years, Nazrin had not believed him to be serious, despite knowing better. 

“I know they might still technically be athletic wear, but these Balenciagas were not made for climbing.”

[nazrinas]

𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗜𝗔.

𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜.𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 𝗜. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐘. 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷. with @nazrinas

“Are we even allowed to smoke in here?”  The question echoes in the cavernous halls of the gallery, past the smoke haze she created. Nazrin cut quite the mesmerizing figure, and they thought she could easily have blended in with all the other artworks in the place. Contemplative as always, Bellamy eyes the flute in her other hand, trying to determine what liquid was bubbling inside. Bellamy walked around lazily, throwing questions around and at her as they idly viewed artwork they’ve already seen many times before. “Dom Pérignon?” they ask again, and knowing Nazrin, they’re almost entirely sure it’s a vintage, as well. “Are you perhaps celebrating?”  They stare at Nazrin, and think: does Julian visit your dreams too?  Bellamy doesn’t ask. Not yet. 

“Not at all. The De Cervantes would be furious,” Nazrin explains without looking up from the painting presently occupying her attention. “Never stopped us before, though.” Nothing ever stopped Julian, and therein lies the problem. 

Bellamy saunter’s around the gallery, an artist in contemplation, and Nazrin gazes at them in the same way she’d pore over the romanticist art that lined the confines of the gallery— as something distantly beautiful, that frequently eluded her understanding. 

“It’s a celebration of death, no?” Nazrin reminds them with an arched brow. “It comes around once a year, just like any other holiday. It’s only right that we dull our senses with the best of the best.” 

The sound of a lighter flicking echoes across every corner of the room. What would happen if the entire space were to ignite— them included? She would’ve pondered the thought further, if she hadn’t already been convinced Julian would be waiting for her on the other side of the pyre. She takes a long draw of the cigarette, before passing it off to Bellamy. “Cheers. I’ll leave the toasting to you.” 

[nazrinas]

𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗔.

At the first sight of Nazrin standing on the other side of the door, Jasmine felt every bit of tension leave her body. She’d always had that sort of effect, a way to ease her senses. To Nazrin, it seemed that everything came so easily—grace, beauty, elegance, power. And not once had Jasmine ever envied her for it. It had been a point of admiration, a bridge that joined the two in a friendship that Jasmine had allowed to slip through her fingers.

She was a walking heartbeat, allowing her wounds to go on exposed as if no one would dig their nails in and let her rot. But with Nazrin, even after the time where distance had overridden every inch of their bond, she still trusted her. Jasmine had arrived here suspicious and found that she’d had good reason. But Nazrin had never been on the receiving end of it.

And just the sound of her name coming from the mouth of her old friend sent such a shock through her that she could only process the sharp desire to wrap her arms around Nazrin tightly and hug her for hours. Apologize for leaving, apologize for never returning phone calls or keeping their brief interactions throughout the years as bare as possible. Apologize for the cowardice she’d shown.

“I always hated his games,” Jasmine replied. She hated the times when he would place her at the very center even more. “What happened at dinner was just—Nazrin, I don’t know. If you’re asking me if I told him, I swear to you I didn’t. I had my doubts but I never said anything.”

They developed a mutual detestation for his games long ago— if games is what they could even be called. Ceaseless hazing was a more appropriate designation— for his schemes were always cruel, always lawless, and with no particular objective in mind. Most of all, Nazrin hated losing. If damning herself to hell is what it took to rid the world of his stain— then so be it— as long as they wouldn’t be occupying the same circle. 

“If we loved them, there’d be nothing for him to enjoy,” Nazrin mused with a halfhearted sigh. Her eyes locate Jasmine for a once over, a flicker of longing for their lost girlhood present in her gaze, and gone just as quickly. “He knew you hated them most of all.”

She believed Jasmine, even if her heart presently commanded her not to— even if casting her away as nothing more than a turncoat would’ve allowed her to keep a fragment of her crumbling pride. Her mind understands this isn’t grounds enough for doubt. His schemes were never resolved so simply— and all Nazrin could presently do is hope she’d be prepared for the next pin to drop. 

“I believe you,” Nazrin announces distantly, as if a layer of glass had sprouted between them, but there is certainty weaved into her aloof expression. “They aren’t going to, though. The best you can hope for is the next segment of this performance shifting the spotlight to someone else.”

[nazrinas]

𝗪𝗛𝗢 —  @senzarimproveri​ 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 — dante’s room 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 — tuesday, june 15th

IN HER MOMENTS OF DOUBT, WHERE WAS A KING TO TURN? Consulting her gods had been the only option, and this occasion had been no different. Nazrin always had the virtues of king— all that was needed was the air of the divine to breathe live into her kinghood— and that is precisely what Dante had done. 

She was draped across his settee like a silk jacquard throw blanket, staring idly at the raised ceilings above her— a cigarette that should’ve long since been ashed wasting away laced between her fingers. Nazrin had been launched into an echelon of doubt that was unfamiliar to her. What if the weight of Julian’s usurpation truly had been a burden they’d been incapable of carrying?

“This isn’t over, Dante,” she announces coolly, and the hauntedness of her cadence is unmistakable. “And If we aren’t the ones to finish it, then who else?” Nazrin’s eyes remained fixed upward, as she attempted to quiet her uncertainty. She’d accepted the invitation out of courtesy, as a reminder that this hadn’t all been for nothing— and instead found herself unwillingly in what had to have been one of his games. “This cigarette ain’t gonna cut it. I need something stronger, immediately.”

[promptfairy]

❥   𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍     [   𝐀   𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋   𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄   ]  .

designed  for  muses  with  a  bit  of  unresolved  tension between  them ,   but  can  be  used  for  any  circumstances you  see  fit !!  

♡   𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄  :    add   ‘  + 🔁  ’   to  reverse  the  roles .

📖  :    my  muse  discovers  your  muse  reading  a  diary  entry  that  my  muse  wrote  about  yours .

💅  :    your  muse  paints  my  muse’s  nails .

🚿  :    my  muse  accidentally  moans  while  your  muse  washes  their  hair .

👕  :    your  muse  helps  my  muse  get  dressed  after  my  muse  sustains  an  injury  or  illness .

🛏️  :    our  muses  are  forced  by  circumstance  to  share  a  bed  for  the  night .

🧼  :    your  muse  bathes  mine  after  my  muse  sustains  an  injury  or  illness .

🙏  :    our  muses’  hands  brush  as  they  walk  side  by  side .

💢  :    your  muse  picks  mine  up   &   carries  them  over  their  shoulder .

👁️  :    your  muse  is  watching  mine  sleep ,   when  my  muse  suddenly  wakes  up   &   catches  them .

🚬  :    my  muse  steals  a  cigarette   (   or lollipop   )   from  your  muse   &   puts  it  in  their  mouth .

🎐  :    our  muses  slow  dance  together .

🧦  :    your  muse  walks  in  on  my  muse  changing  clothes .

🎀  :   your  muse  brushes  my  muse’s  hair .

💍  :    our  muses  are  mistaken  for  a  couple  by  someone  else .

👔  :    your  muse  notices  that  my  muse’s  shirt  is  open   &   goes  to  ‘  fix  it  ’ .

👗  :    my  muse  sees  yours  all  dressed  up .

🪑  :    my  muse  is   ‘  forced  ’   to  sit  on  your  muse’s  lap   (   due  to  a  lack  of  chairs ,   faulty seatbelt ,  etc .   )

🍆  :    your  muse  makes  a  suggestive  joke  but  my  muse  actually  acts  on  it .