To some it might’ve seemed callous, the way she boxed up her pain and set it aside, but I knew her well enough now to understand. She had a heart the size of France, and the lucky few whom she loved with it were loved with every square inch - but its size made it dangerous, too. If she let it feel everything, she’d be wrecked. So she had to tame it, shush it, shut it up. Float the worst pains off to an island that was quickly filling with them, where she would go to live one day.
Ransom Riggs, Library of Souls
(via perksofbeingafanboy)
The inebriated male couldn’t resist scoffing at the blonde’s remark, an annoyed eye-roll following seconds later. “Not all of us here wish to skip our youth entirely, some of us prefer living a little, but I wouldn’t expect Prissy Cissy to UNDERSTAND the meaning of the phrase.” If that was what Sirius’ cousin considered someone making a fool out of themselves, James could only imagine what she thought of the Marauders and their antics. “Has anyone ever told you to loosen up? No one expects you to act like a middle-aged woman all the time.”
n, black.
She listened, only because she both despised and felt impossibly intrigued by the animated boy beside her. Her stare was piercing, frame still as she took him in, searching for whatever it was that Sirius had seen. There could’ve been an appeal, his confidence charismatic, appearance effortless and yet charming nonetheless, she could see that much even past his insulting of her or a thin greenish hued veil of jealousy. “Actually, I think that’s exactly what you expect from--- ... Prissy Cissy.” Her tone was so flat she couldn’t have possibly been bothered by his assessment, only a soft tinge rose in her cheeks as she looked away from the head boy. Glass and drink met her lips as she smoldered in renewed dislike, a sting swirling in a frustrating arc just at the base of her throat. “You’re no better, Potter. Am I really supposed to believe you want me to loosen up to have a good time? Ha.”
his shoulders tensed , ears prickling at the flagrant exchange as curious eyes followed the boy in question . ted was feet away , but still the other’s voice carried . leave it to narcissa black to stand high on her pedestal of contempt . and just like that , ted felt his temper get the best of him . taking a sidestep , his voice cut in , ‘ you should . it clearly missed the mark . ’
n, black.
Her features remained unmoved and she turned to face the student she had upset with no sign of an apology on her lips. Her gaze traveled the length of his tall frame, but rather than bend to the will of Ted Tonk’s opinion, Narcissa straightened her spine as resolve settled in. Her last words had been a joke, apparently for her alone since the boy was not impressed. There was a white sheen to her knuckles as they curled over her cup but she kept her tone dismissive, "Right. Tonks. Your friend is looking peckish. As the self-proclaimed brightest candle here, maybe you ought to do something about it.”
andromeda follows her sister’s gaze to the stumbling boy, but while narcissa looks down her nose at him in distaste, andie is mostly just amused. she takes a sip from her glass to obscure her little breath of laughter and raises her brows, examining narcissa out of the corner of her eye. “ did you really expect any different ? ” not everyone can spend the war studying french philosophy, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “ besides, that is hardly the worst you’ll see tonight. ”
n, black.
“Expectations and I don’t always see eye to eye.” A low sigh of disappointment parts the center of her lips, fingers moving to shift a few stray strands behind the slope of her ear. There’s a tinge of regret in the slow roll of her gaze. Not of course, for anyone’s unhurt feelings, but that her trivial bit of sardonic humor would be twisted in favor of a teachable moment from her older sister. “Would you suggest we join him, Andie?” The blonde stood a little taller, her elbow tipping the wine in her glass in demonstration and so Andromeda could not miss it this time, she offered a small curl of her lip. But, ever the younger sister, eventually Narcissa’s brow folded, chest and shoulders visibly caving beneath the pressure of a family member’s scrutiny. “...What? What would you rather I say?”
Look at me. For once in your entire life, look at me, and see the fangs in my smile. Because I was never soft, like you thought. All this time, I was a wolf and you tried to imagine me into a sheep.
Mary was use to the mean looks that the Slytherin’s sent her way, so it coming from Narcissa was no big shock. Didn’t mean it didn’t sting. She looked back to the stacks of vinyl and turned her focus on that as she cleared her throat. “Doubt we’ll get a small dose of anything this year.”
n, black.
“I think you’re right there.” Narcissa’s tone was bored, cool to the touch. Her brow rising and her spine lifting as she shifted to study the Gryffindor more fully were the only indications of curiosity. Even as she was quick to agree, there was a small note of a challenge as she looked the girl over from the gold and red patch on her chest to her toes. “You sound worried. Does the idea of difficulty scare you?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be a party without someone making a fool of themselves.” Her features remained unsympathetic, gaze sharp enough even above the rim of her glass to side eye the drunken stagger of a fellow fifth year that passed. Her look was so judgmental that it made the glance she offered the student standing nearest look like a rare show of camaraderie. “Age hasn’t given any of the wisdom promised, don’t you think? I feel cheated.”
It took a lot of convincing for Mary to go to the party. She still had her doubts about being back but she thought if she stuck by the music table and eyed the choices of bands they had on vinyl. To no one in particular, she cleared her throat, “the sorting ceremony was rather long…”
n, black.
She’d only been passing, her gaze subtle beneath her lashes as she glanced over the selection of music. Narcissa gave a small nod of acknowledgement to the other girl, but her cool stare that traveled the length of her nose was an unwelcoming look. “Nostalgia is really only palatable in small doses.”
ALCOHOL. It seemed to be the one thing that always succeeded in bringing everyone together, no matter the occasion. For some it brought them closer, made them happier but for others, it did the opposite. For Evan, it calmed them, allowed them to step aside and watch from a distance as others worked the room or made a scene. How one reacted in social gatherings had always given off a visible tell about them. Before choosing a side of the war, Evan was a more frequent partier, enjoying getting lost in the dance and the night, but now, after distancing themselves more from those they enjoyed the company of and spending more time with those they truly despised, they found themselves standing closer to the corner. Still with a glass in hand. Somethings, after all, would never change.
“It’s strange,” they began, feeling someone approach. “The way people are interacting as if nothing has changed and only a year has passed since we were last year, it makes one wonder..” Evan trailed off, raising the glass to their lips.
n, black.
Narcissa tilted her glass a little too high at her cousin’s observation of the festivities. She could distract herself with the thick coating the wine laid over her tongue, or the precise folding of her arms over her chest for a few moments. But eventually, the blonde had no choice but to tackle the delicate topic that the other had thrown into the ring. “I wonder at nothing. I’d only like to think you missed me. Or has that changed as well?” The smirk that littered Narcissa’s lips was up and then gone before one had time to blink. “Aren’t you happy to be back, Ev?” Her words lacked the concern that someone else might’ve been able to dredge up, but she had turned away from the other students to level Evan with a glance, her gaze steady and curious in the low light. Delicate wrists unfolded long enough for her to grace their elbow with a reassuring touch before her attention returned to the party. Her arms found their defensive fold over her chest once again.
❤️ = Something my muse loves
💔= Something my muse hates
💘= Someone my muse loves
💕= Someone my muse admires or looks up to
📖= My muse’s favourite book
🏡= My muse’s dream home
🎧= My muse’s favourite song
🎤= My muse’s talent(s)
⚽️= My muse’s favourite sport/physical activity
🍔= My muse’s favourite unhealthy food
🍎= My muse’s favourite healthy food
🍝= My muse’s favourite meal
☂= Something my muse does on a rainy day
🌩= Something my muse does on a stormy day
🌨= Something my muse does on a snowy day
☀️= Something my muse does on a sunny day
🌙= Something my muse does at night
⭐️= My muse’s star sign
🌪= What my muse would do during a natural disaster
🌲= My muse’s favourite season
🐱= My muse’s past pets
🦁= My muse’s favourite animal
A cold intelligence clings to her slender frame. She sits pretty, religiously reapplying lipstick to hide the small smirk that forms upon her mouth when others call her sisters dangerous and reckless, leaving only the sweetest of words for the darling youngest. It is all as mother dearest taught her: the trick to being powerful is through deceit. (source.)
( milena tscharntke, eighteen, cis-female ) my goodness, is NARCISSA BLACK back? it’s been a while since the PUREBLOOD has been around the castle, but I’d recognize HER anywhere. rumor has it the FIFTH YEAR spent the years aligned with the NEUTRALS. but I hear they’re still DUTIFUL & ELEGANT and SEVERE & CONTRADICTORY. and the SLYTHERIN still reminds me of a mist of overwhelming perfume, the gentle clatter of fine dishes breaking a tense silence, the awed quiet that fills every corner of a museum, a lump catching in a dry throat, an ornate frame distracting from a dark themed painting, and lips plump with an unnatural red. well, then, I guess some things never change.
hey, hey, you guys! i’m alex and i’ll be bringing narcissa here. i’ve been rping on tumblr for a long time, marauders era has always been my favorite. i have a lot of passion for strong, bad bitches, they’re my jam. so i’m excited to play ice queen narcissa. i’m down for all sorts of plots, especially stuff that springs up organically. mostly because i’m a terrible, disorganized mess of a planner. i’m a bartender, so weekends can get busy for me, but lbr i’m always lurking on mobile.
you can contact me on here in those dms, or my discord is @ alex //#7484
character inspiration: sansa stark (got), eleanor young / astrid leong-teo (crazy rich asians), amy march (little women)
aesthetic inspiration: a mist of overwhelming perfume; the gentle clatter of fine dishes breaking a tense silence; the awed quiet that fills every corner of a museum; a lump catching in a dry throat; an ornate frame distracting from a dark themed painting; lips plump with an unnatural red; the gentle clink of pearls; lipstick smudged on the lip of a teacup; thickly gilded frames; delicate fingers brushing aside wisps of hair; pointed heels abandoned at the bottom of a staircase; forced laughter through painted lips; a paintbrush gliding over a crisp canvas; skirts skating over cream-colored thighs; half filled decanters; a thorn pricking an unsuspecting fingertip; the slow build of a concerto; hedges cut to blunt perfection
your girl’s eyeliner is sharp as knives, lips red as bluuud, nails filed to perfection, heart cold, and her smile sweet enough to eat.
you’ve heard it before, narcissa is stone cold. the world could be tumbling around her and this blonde would remain unshaken. she is a proud and stalwart figure in the face of chaos. she’s rather good in a crisis, she has to be with a family like her’s and in these dark days. many imagine her to be weak, a simple creature meant for beautiful things. the wilting flower of the black family tree. at one time she might have been, but those who know her properly know her to be someone to look towards in uncertainty.
but she is also a hopeless romantic gone to rot. she is distant, as untouchable as a masterpiece in the museum that is her picture perfect life. a thing more suitable for admiration than intimacy. she is cold, stoic, and strong, but also lonely.
there is a feeling that no matter your connection to narcissa, that no matter your efforts, there is always something hidden within that she is keeping to herself. and it’s true. there is nothing narcissa would willingly show that she didn’t want people to see.
she insecure and stressed about public image like that.
she is also haughty.
if there’s anything her cousin has taught her, to bloom is to die. she pictures his escape and subsequent increase in happiness to be the height of abandonment, of betrayal. how dare he go one to enjoy things without her! how dare he leave. how dare he leave her wanting and missing and heartbroken. she truly misses him and yet goes to great lengths to never reveal her secrets, instead giving her true feelings the form of petty anger and feigned indifference.
the family she’d been proud to be a member of, is crumbling to ash with this war. but if anyone were to care enough to ask, she is grateful for her lot in life. a smile always quick to slide into place, polished and content for the pre-destined plan.
with her current family a shambles, she is afraid to even think of putting together a new family, the arranged marriage in her future is as terrifying as it is inevitable. she feels as though she will lose everything, her family name, the constant presence of her sisters, and her childhood. it feels like a demotion in title and status after all the notoriety that comes with being a black. not to mention her own parents suffering remains fresh as a wound, she can’t imagine she shall ever be happy. why should she be? indoctrinated as she is, she has eyes. everything she has witnessed could never be called ideal, as much as it was framed that way. while hope is not her strong suit, narcissa is very capable of love
it’s not often used to describe her, but narcissa is rather selfless and giving towards her loved ones. it’s a redeeming quality that is almost enough to counteract her many failings as a more acceptable version of a kind person. she does, in fact, love and wants to be loved in return.
her removal from hogwarts had been a frightening prospect, as it put a big wrench in the plans that had been set out for her. she was too young and with her education incomplete all meant she was able to put off her marital duties off for the time being
with the last two years open to her, narcissa was quick to move to france to study abroad at beauxbatons. the move was good for her. freeing. the separation from her family allowed the growth of some independence and the fostering of her own interests. she was fully immersed in paris’ culture, language, food, and beauty.
as a lover of all things immaculate, a seeker of perfection, narcissa is enamored with art. she already has amassed a collection that could rival the lourve, and often travels to find new additions. it’s a lifestyle only the sickeningly wealthy could afford. the high art, port wine and lavish hotels in distant locations are her own form of escape. the one bright spot in the dreariness that the war has driven all of london into. but “a golden cage is still a cage” and her happiness often fades the moment it comes
she’s an amateur painter herself, talented and content with the process of painting the perfect picture, figuratively and literally. but this is a secret ambition. the act unsuitable and beneath a lady such as herself. there is too much mess. stains, dyed fingertips and an acrid smell. as beautiful as the end result might be, her parents would surely disapprove of the mess she’d make to get there. so like everything else, she hides the messy parts away. it’s not much of a rebellion, but it’s as much as she’s capable of at the moment. her family just means more to her than what she sees as selfish wants rather than the productive creativity and voice to her thoughts that she really needs.
tw child abuse: her childhood was as fraught with abuse as the next black. intelligence was punishable, sharp wit was always met with a slap to rattle her teeth.
her worth was reduced to image and status from the beginning. the cruel parenting taught her to close her lips and open her eyes more. she is observant, and thoughtful. her taste impeccable and judgement rather quick.
narcissa is both good and bad in many ways. love to hate or hate to love her, she’s an anti-villian
tl;dr; narcissa a bitch but like?? the kind you would be begging to step on you
connections:
girl gang – give her all the best friends. the nicole to her paris. soul sisters. ovaries before brovaries. hymen heroines. those hoes she lives and breathes for. i think typically this would be fellow slytherins or ppl that she met through pureblood high society connections. OPEN
ex-boyfriend/girlfriend – ew this makes me sad and emotions are hard to deAL. basically this will be all angst city. most likely narcissa would be the one to break things off since she usually caves to that familial pressure. depending on how their relationship was, she could regret it or be cold about it. or maybe they were using her? i could see either ( or both! gasp ) working. OPEN
rival/frenemies – these two are just too similar to get along. toxic pureblood society has pitted them against each other and no one is winning. okay but if they went from enemies, to reluctant respect, to almost friends?? MAYBE EVEN FRIENDS EVENTUALLY?? i would be here for it asdlk OPEN
confidante – narcissa isn’t honest with anyone, not even herself. but this could be someone that she’s probably known for a long time who she possibly could’ve opened up to in a weak moment and now they’re bonded forever. she would feel indebted to this person for keeping her secrets and would do her best to protect them any way that she could. extra feelings if this person feels the same way and they can be sad, but also cLOSE, together. OPEN
secret school friend – maybe they were forced partners as prefects or a fateful potions class but narcissa found herself making a surprising friend in an unexpected place. they spoke for years and she couldn’t help admiring their persistence despite her reluctance and occasional snobbery. but now they’re older and she really should cut things off. for whatever reason, she just can’t let go. OPEN
banter partner – alright so this would be someone from the other side of the war that narcissa runs into all the time and they always seem to get into arguments! she’s not quite sure why they get under her skin but narcissa finds it difficult to step away from their confrontations. OPEN
muse – listennnn. this person would be someone that narcissa would just be enamored with, she would regard them very highly and make efforts to speak with them and be around them. if this person were on the other side of the war she would probably resent them a little but be unable to resist. i’ll probably just spring this on somebody tbh?? since the relationship would be based on her own tastes. but this would be someone that narcissa would admire for their appearance– sure, but also for the aura that they project.
but yes!! promo over, thanks for reading loves! can’t wait to write with you all!
