AnasAbdin
todays bird
hello vonnie

Janaina Medeiros

oozey mess
Cosimo Galluzzi
$LAYYYTER

Love Begins

shark vs the universe
styofa doing anything
Claire Keane
macklin celebrini has autism
YOU ARE THE REASON
Jules of Nature

#extradirty

Kiana Khansmith

Origami Around


2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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@aurumflos-blog

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Forgive me.
Narcissa’s lips pursed, as her cerulean orbs remained glacial. While her sister’s marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange had been tentative at best–rooted only in the shared beliefs of their pureblood families–the man’s betrayal had still cut quite deep. And if it was sides they were picking, Narcissa’s loyalties would lie where they always had: with her family, with her sister.
What was love really worth–death, dishonor? Perhaps Rod’s marriage to her sister had been empty, but Narcissa was not sure Marlene truly comprehended what the man had sentenced her to in choosing her. Narcissa and the Dark Lord himself were among the few who did not fear Bellatrix, as even the blonde understood that her sister was mad. A pang of guilt fell over Narcissa, knowing what was in store for the woman before her.
“I can forgive you for reaching for your heart’s desires, but you are naive to thing apologies will do you any good in what you’ve caught yourself up in because of it,” Narcissa did her best to keep her voice cold and level. “Trust that my forgiveness will do nothing in my sister’s regard…and she will give you no chance to utter sorries should she find you.”
“That generally comes after the heart has started to beat again. You know I’m always happy to see you, Narcissa.”
Narcissa gave a strained smile. ”I do apologize for startling you, but mother and father can’t know I was here...or Bella...” Her eyes grew more apologetic as she finished her sentence.
His ears perked at the sound of a female voice and Rodolphus knew that voice anywhere. It made him smirk as he moved closer to her. “My dear Cissa, is this what Lucius has to look forward to? Constantly reaching for things too high for you? Maybe you should carry a stool with you wherever you go.”
Eyes narrowing, Narcissa scowled as the man spoke. “If you must poke fun, do so while you help. Moste Potente Potions by Phineas Bourne, on the ninth shelf, I need that one,” Narcissa pointed. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t act as if your friend was marrying some helpless little flower. I may not be Bellatrix, but that doesn’t mean I’ll need my husband at my beck and call.”

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There should have been no hesitation on his part. The two of them had been bound for life, and both had forcibly agreed to it, whether there was hesitation beforehand or no. Before there was a chance for regret, Lucius couldn’t have a new deal remade nor would he, the connection was done. It was less resisted with a heavy hand as the days proceeded, a kinder relationship beginning to prevail. There was an element of comfort in that, the hidden layer of knowledge that the arrangement wasn’t misguided or detached. Still, there was an unforeseen factor that kept him from wholly unraveling; his duty to be fulfilled, one that required secrets and falsehood.
Is something the matter. Though his gaze upward was sharp, he could not keep the insistent reluctance painted across his features once he looked at her. Despite his shadowed exterior, she always managed to bring out a softness he thought he had lost before gazing upon her. And the mystery behind his remaining humanity could be solved by merely looking at him around her. “It’s nothing. I am exhausted from a day’s worth of travel, no need to fret over a dalliance,” he lied, a certain biting sweetness linked with each syllable. “Tell me of yourself though. Summer has come again and surely that has led to adventures had outside of the stony castle you are usually locked behind. Are you enjoying yourself? Is Bellatrix well?”
For her entire life, Narcissa had been showered in compliments, on what a charming child she had been, growing into a radiance, and propriety. After a match had been struck, one that she had perhaps been too young to comprehend at the time, she was complimented on what a dutiful daughter she was, on what a lovely couple her and her betrothed would make. Despite her tireless efforts to convey otherwise, Narcissa happened still to be quite young, but she understood their world more--enough to know that her and Lucius might be stuck together, but refused to repeat what Bellatrix and Rodolphus had. Bone-chilling apathy, and one-word conversations was nothing to build upon. Her need to be the ever dutiful daughter may have increased upon the “loss” of Andromeda, but her care for Lucius was not forced as she once believed it would have to be.
“Oh...well, alright then. Perhaps you need rest,” she replied, the grin upon her face becoming feigned. Something about his eyes, and the tone of his words gave her the impression it was mere lies, but what was she to do? Continue pressing a matter that he clearly didn’t want pressed? Narcissa bit the inside of her lip, before giving an exaggerated nod. “Of course, I am always quite glad to escape the castle and those I’m forced to share it with. Bella...trix is busy as ever, which I suppose means she is indeed well, as she’s doing the bidding she most enjoys.” Of course Bellatrix was a point of pride for Cygnus and Druella, a brave soldier for the Dark Lord, valiantly serving what the Black family was meant to stand for. Toujours pur...even if it meant their family falling to pieces. “I trust you’ve likely seen her more than I have.”
How Strong Do You Think I Am by Alexz Johnson
If I don’t cry, do you think I don’t feel? If I look away, it doesn’t mean I don’t see. And just because I want someone when I’m alone doesn’t mean I’m helpless, that I can’t s t a n d on my own.
How strong do you think I am? How much can I take of this? Am I a rock, or a r o s e, or a fist, Or the b r e a t h at the end of a k i s s?
Everyone’s favorite, I presume. Just as you are the favorite Black.
“You’re far too kind, darling. I’m sure there are many who don’t quite share the sentiment, however.”
“Yeah, they’re not going to hear you.” Her head jerked backwards are the two women who worked here currently engrossed in their conversastion. “You’re better off trying to get it yourself. The ladder is over there.” Her eyes found the ladder and she nodded her head.
“AHEM,” Narcissa sighed dramatically, trying to get the attention of the shop’s employees, to no avail. “Utterly useless.” With a roll of her eyes in their regard, her grimace only grew with Marlene’s suggestion. “The ladder? Oh...oh no, I cannot climb that in these.” She motioned down at her heels, the look upon her face suggesting that the brunette was bonkers for even offering such a suggestion.
Carousing among the shelves upon shelves of books, Narcissa finally spotted the one she was looking for, on the top shelf well above her reach. Huffing to herself, she crossed her arms and glared at it for a moment. “Could you perhaps help me, it’ll only take a moment,” she inquired, to anyone within earshot.

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“My dear brother, how kind of you. I hope I can suffice in his place.”
“Of course, Alecto. As much as I like your brother, you know you’re surely my favorite Carrow.”
“Oh - well, my bad.” He laughed, and the sound resonated throughout the stairway, chilly with the wind. Then, after a slight moment of pause - “Sure you don’t want a smoke before you go on your way? I could use the company.”
“Oh do put that thing out, honestly, Amycus,” Narcissa wrinkled her nose. “Those’ll rot your teeth and wrinkle your skin. You’re more than welcome to join me, but only if you refrain from smoking in my presence.”
Graveyard.
Clad in a long, dark coat, Narcissa walked amongst the grave stones with a bundle of flowers in her arms. The war had taken many lives, those of friends, of family, each taking small fragments of her heart with them. And though she’d never speak the words aloud, Narcissa was glad the Dark Lord was gone, secretly praying he’d never return–for the sake of her tattered family.
Pausing a few plots away from her destination, Regulus’s grave, she saw yet another familiar name, the cemetery was quite full of them. Marlene Adira McKinnon, 1960-1981. Beloved daughter, sister, and friend. Names of Marlene’s family filled the gravestone around her own, names Narcissa knew because they’d all grown up in the same pureblooded aristocracy.
What had the papers said about the McKinnons? As Narcissa could recall, the Death Eaters had gone after the entire family, and the blonde couldn’t help but wonder if it would be better that way, to die amongst the ones one loved the most? She shook her head at the thought–dying young was no way to die, family or not.
Kneeling down, she plucked a few of the flowers from the bouquet she’d brought, and set them against Marlene’s headstone. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, thinking of the life the brunette should of had, the life she could have had if war had not ravaged their generation. Standing up, she read the stone once more, before turning on her heel and continuing on to find her own family in the field of stones.
Heal
Tick, tick, tick–Narcissa’s eyes bore into the clock, as she checked the time once more. How long had she been waiting? Almost an hour now. A deep sigh escaped her, and moments later a loud crack sounded from the next room.
Wand drawn, the blonde rounded the corner, and there he was, hunched over like a rag doll. “Lucius!” She rushed to his side, carefully slipping her shoulders under one of his arms, attempting to support his weight upon her small frame as she urged him toward the nearest chair.
“’m alright,” the man spoke, though his hoarse voice was less than convincing. “S’only a scratch, really.”
Eyeing the blood upon his shirt, she did her best to blink away the tears attempting to form in her eyes, they way they so often did when she was worried. “Who was it this time, the aurors? The Order?” she spoke, softly, as she pulled away the tattered cloth around his wound. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from cringing at the sight of the gash. Aiming her wand carefully, she began murmuring, “Vulnera Sanetur,” over and over, along the length of it.
“Tergeo,” she finished, before looking him in the eyes. “Darling, I know you’re just doing His work, but I’m afraid for you. I’ll not be the wife who has her husband return to her in pieces.” She found herself unable to stop the tear that trickled down her cheek at the mere thought.
value me (feel free to make them drunk if necessary, hahah)
Another summer night wasted at yet another society party. Narcissa was meant to live for such things, and while she did quite enjoy them, secretly a part of her would rather be anywhere else. Wandering off into the garden with a group of the other younger attendees, Narcissa and Alecto shared giggles and whispers as they went.
With a wide smile and a demeanor as bubbly as the champagne she had sipped too much of, the golden haired Black spun in circles, watching the skirt of her dress swirl around her. It was not until her heel caught upon the hem of her gown at the same time she happened to realize how dizzy she was, as she stumbled, only to be caught by on of her eldest friends.
“Careful there, Cissy,” Alecto smirked, helping her to right herself.
“Oh, Ally, you’re always there when I need a hand,” Narcissa beamed, as the other girl laughed. “What would I ever do without you? No, really, you are one of my nearest, dearest friends…like a sister almost.” It was then that Narcissa began giggling once more herself, knowing the champagne was talking for her, thought it made her declaration no less sincere.

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❝ Every night since the mountain i’ve had the same dream. You are pleading with me not to go face Ra’s and i listened to you. Sometimes the dream still ends badly, i end up with this sword in my chest. But ❞
Everyone is always surprised by how old I am. They think I’m older, but it’s always been that way. I’m the youngest of four - maybe you grow up quicker because you just watch the big people.
Elizabeth Olsen