#nobleflower?

[platonicmoonwater00]

help you guys i posted a poll and its already got probably as many votes as its gonna get but it still has three days to go. how do i end it i wanna write this fic now but i need the responses to this poll cos i cant make decisions on my own

[outromoony]

I wish i had enough followers that i could just post “Narcissa Black is a lesbian ” and have 20 people just be like “real ”.

[kthaios]

if everyone’s straight in canon everyone can be gay in fanon

[starchaserdreams]

[starrysillhoutte]

ok but the rosier twins + the black cousins were the most ethereal otherworldly beautiful people to ever walk the grounds of that school and I will not be taking any objections

[nexuk0chan]

me: i hate cliches

fanfic: they were soulmates

me: OMIGOSH GUYS THEY WERE SOULMATES

[sebbianas]

i just imagine james, remus, and alice has this support group for people dating members of the black family and the first few weeks james started dating regulus he needed a lot of help like

james: so he was ranting and i said “you’re being dramatic” and he—

remus: wait wait you called him dramatic?

alice: *shakes her head* rookie mistake

james: but he was being dramatic!

alice: yeah of course he is! he’s a black! they are drama queens! but you never tell them that!

remus: you just let them be dramatic and you react accordingly!

alice: when they go “im gonna kill them” you say “i’ll help you hide the body”

james: oooohh *pulls out a notepad* tell me more

[shipspainfulships]

"fem Wolfstar" "fem jegulus" "fem rosekiller" HOW ABOUT WE MAKE MORE CONTENT ABOUT THE ACTUAL WLW PAIRINGS. there are not enough sapphic fanarts and fics in this world.

[moonyfr]

Me reading about the same characters fall in love over and over again

[wafflinglumos]

Marauders fans seeing two characters who’ve never interacted in canon and probably don’t even know each other and then going “yeah those two are in love”

[incorrect-maraudersaandco-quotes]

Alice: Just when you think you've hit the rock bottom, you want to fuck a blonde

Barty: Amen, sister

[moutainrusing]

Alice: Narcissa is gay now.

Alice: Homophobic to gay.

Alice: In the span of three seconds.

Narcissa: Alice is simply a professional at conversion therapy. I highly recommend.

Alice: Wait, no, don’t say that you recommend conversion therapy—

[outromoony]

Let. The. Girls. Be. Imperfect.

I'm always joking about Lily being perfect, but honestly, they don't always need to be the "queen, girlboss who stands for herself and knows she's better than everyone else," because that's not how people work. Let the girls be real, let the girls have flaws just like the boys. Let them say the wrong things sometimes, let them mess up. Let them be human. And let's normalize, not villainize, them just for it. When the boys show just a little development, everyone kisses their feet.

Let them be mean and angry and petty. Let them cry over things they shouldn’t care about or hold grudges for too long. Let them make bad decisions out of fear or selfishness. Let them be complicated and messy and everything that makes a character feel alive.

We celebrate male characters for being morally grey/antiheroes and for having arcs full of mistakes and redemption. Why can’t girls have the same? Why can’t they stumble and fall, and be loved anyway? Let them struggle with jealousy or insecurity. Let them hurt people and then try (imperfectly) to make it right.

And when they grow, when they learn, let it feel earned. Let their development be messy, nonlinear, and human. Let them be everything that makes a real person, not just a symbol of perfection or empowerment. Because real strength doesn’t come from being flawless—it comes from the courage to be imperfect and still keep going. That's a girlboss.

[fiasco95]

The Black sisters being the overprotective and feral older sisters to Regulus.

Andromeda: I’m sorry to Sirius but the moment we saw that Potter boy—

Bellatrix: We knew—

Narcissa: —that we wanted him for our Reg.

The black sisters nodding and agreeing,

James: Yes. I thought so too.

Andromeda:

Bellatrix:

Narcissa:

James:

Bonus

Sirius: What’s going on here?? Why was I not invited??

Sirius:

Sirius, pointing at James: Better yet, why are you here???

Regulus: What in the ever loving fuck?

[vulpes115]

Narcissa, specifically the Marauder’s fandom take on her, makes me want to sob and I need her to be appreciated more. Just, imagine you are the third daughter of parents that only wanted sons. A flower in a sky full of stars. A flower, an object only meant to be looked upon and be pretty. You know your parents never loved you, will never love you, you who is not the long awaited son they asked for. But even still, you can’t help pushing yourself to fulfill the mold they expect from you, beautiful and perfect. But even still you receive love from your family, just in the form of your older sisters. Your eldest who tries so fiercely to protect you and your sister but is clearly starting to slip into insanity. The middle starting to slip away, finding comfort in a man who’s kind you were poisoned to hate. Still, you love them. No matter what you love them, you have so little else. The only other one you have is your baby cousin, made in the same mold as you, who you try so desperately to protect.

At Hogwarts you are expected to be a good mark on your family, prefect, ace student and quidditch player. Willing to drop it all as soon as graduation to be a wife and mother. You only let yourself break the rules once, for her, the one decision you made that goes against your family wishes, the girl whose kisses taste like powdered sugar, whose natural kindness and beauty shines like a candle in your otherwise dark life. For years you let yourself indulge it. For years you pretend. But you know it must end.

The end comes quicker than thought. Your middle sister comes to you, she’s going to elope with her own secret love, she’s going to escape the family and the rot it contains. She asks if you want to come with. You want so badly to say yes. But you have been the perfect daughter for so long, being anything else scares you. So you say no. So you close the door. So you marry the fiancée that sister left behind. So you accept it when your lover breaks up with you, unwilling to be just a mistress. So you tell yourself you’re better without her, all the while knowing you will never find love like her again. Never stop loving her. You say as much when your cousin asks you if it ever gets better, heartbroken over his own Gryffindor. But still you made your choices and well, your fiancée is…fine, as pure-blood men go. He loves you but you don’t love him, can’t ever love him but you’re ok playing your part, even if it’s never him you picture when you play it, not even on your wedding night.

Before you know it, war is at your doorstep. Your eldest, no, only sister and your husband both pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord. So does your youngest, no, only cousin. Your cousin, so young, so naive. He dies, you never find the body, he was only eighteen and you couldn’t do anything to protect him. And the only person you ever loved? Well when you first realized she was going to be fighting on the opposing side you figured she’d be ok. Her and her new husband were powerful, well respected aurors, true Gryffindors, if anybody was going to be ok it was them. You were wrong, oh so wrong. Death would have been kinder with the fate they suffered. A fate brought on by your sister. The only one you ever loved as much as the love of your life. A love now only matched by hate.

You watch as your sister is dragged off in shackles, trying to hide any expression behind an icy mask. You watch as your lover looks back at you with distant lifeless eyes, eyes that don’t recognize you. You visit as often as you can but it’s hard to get away from your duty as mother and wife, even harder to see your lover permanently near death like this. You don’t mean to, but you stop visiting as often.

You only have one thing left to hold on to now, your son. Your darling boy. As a second war fast approaches you fear for him. You saw what happened to your cousin, you fear history is doomed to repeat itself. You do everything you can, extract whatever vows are needed, you do not believe you can survive if he too is taken from you. Then the pivotal moment comes. You have no idea if your son is alive or dead, but the chosen one is lying on the ground and he tells you he’s alive. In that moment you make a choice, you lie, you lie to the most powerful man alive, you lie to a mind reader, you lie to save your son, and you never admit it to yourself but you lie to avenge your lover he stole the sanity of, your cousin he stole the life from, and your sister he stole the soul of.

When the war is over, your action lets your family escape consequences. For the first time since the war began, you find the courage to come and visit your old lover. You apologize for not visiting more, and tell her about your sons, how her son had finished what she started, how your son had done what you never could. It takes several years longer until you make a visit to a different ghost of your past, knock cautiously on the door, a door opened by your sister, a woman you haven’t seen in almost thirty years. Things are awkward at first, of course they are, she is resistant, she’s lost so much to this war and she is slow to trust again, but eventually you two are having a heart to heart over tea, apologizing to each other about old wrongs. It’s not much, but it’s a start. As for your boy, he finds comfort in, of all people, the chosen one, the boy your whole family was supposed to hate, the boy who you helped save the life of. You are glad he is happy, you saw how miserable he was during the war. But a small part of you can’t help but feel envious, that this is a happiness that you could’ve experienced, that your cousin could’ve experienced, if you had made different choices, better choices, found your voice earlier, instead of being left with just an empty shell. Still, you made those choices, had made your bed, and now you must lie in it. But, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, if you get to see your son smile, if you get to hold your grandchildren, if you get to see your sister for monthly tea, if you get to hold your old lover’s hand once in awhile and pretend for just a minute that everything turned out ok between you two.

That’s something your parents didn’t know when they named you after a daffodil, that even after a harsh cold winter, they can make a comeback.

[starrysillhoutte]

love the idea that all the black cousins have some sort of health issues like they may be apart of a noble and ancient bloodline and have crazy magical abilities but an immune system? i think not