"Oh Boy, If You Think You're The Crazy One, You're Not Hanging Out With The Right People." Gamon Joked,

“I really want to kiss you.”

Jonah Hauer-King as Mo in The Flatshare (2022)

WHO: morcant nott & winnie yaxley @anapnco WHERE: st. mungo's hospital, blishwick wing WHEN: new wing at st. mungo's

Winnifred Yaxley was intelligent, funny, gentle, beautiful and came from a good family. She was prime pureblood wife material, and although her blonde hair fell nicely over her face, she wasn't the blonde he'd like to marry. Unfortunately, fate had other plans, and Morcant knew Winnie was as into marrying him as he was (which was, not at all). ━ You know, I'm really grateful you're the one doing this with me. At least you don't spare any punches on your opinions, and I gave you a nice protective jewelry. That's gotta be worth some points, right? ━ Morcant whispered, so only Winnie could hear him, looking at the oppulent necklace around her neck, to her bright eyes.

It was a silly little thing, really. Odin, his black kneazle, had a morbid curiosity towards thestrals. Morcant's familiar tended to be a stern and proud creature, but the omen of death brought out a completely different side to him. The kneazle could see and feel magical aura, so he was invaluable during Unspeakable missions, and he rarely allowed himself to behave like a... Well, cat.

Even if he truly wasn't one, and merely thinking about Odin as a cat would offend his familiar, but thank Salazar he didn't know Legilimency yet. It was just a matter of time, though, Morcant was sure. Kneazles would still rule the world, Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance against them. Just look at their paws.

"Well, not really. I'm just here to indulge the child. It's not like I can say no to him. Odin has a morbid curiosity towards thestrals, maybe it's because he sees magical aura. Thestrals are truly unique creatures. Well, are you? Getting a ride?"

𝑶𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑭𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

The first time Frank had seen one, he was just shy of his sixteenth birthday and had wandered toward the carriages—he had almost gotten into one when he stilled completely. The black leathery horse-like creature peered at him, looking at him as if he had done it countless times—it wasn't the kind of beauty that Frank had been privy to, not until he lost his father.

Even tonight, lanterns lit the pathway as people gathered around - the thestrals were just as beautiful and in a way, the grief was just as raw, even after all these years, but it didn't consume him like it once did. feeling a presence next to him, "are you going for a ride?" a small smile stretching his lips as he looked over.

who: morcant and dolores @apparitixns where: attic, ministry of magic.

Morcant had a soft spot for power hungry people. He'd never had anything soft in his life, so it's safe to assume that this version of softness was dangerous and calculating. The same softness he had for pythons. Respect, but he knew better. When he looked at Dolores Umbridge, Nott saw a woman who could very well run an entire show moving only her pinky finger. No sweat broken, only big brown eyes that haunted you back. As the heir of an important family like the Notts, as the son of Astrid Nott, Morcant never slouched. Posture straight like a ruler, broad shoulders and raised chin. The same charming glint in his green eyes as his mother, maintaining eye-contact and moving with easiness. He moved like the world belonged to him, confident and smart, it was innate. The friendly and honey-eyed, well, that was taught. Or better, drilled until it became innate as well. — Dolores Umbridge, as I live and breathe. How are you doing? Congratulations on the promotion, you deserve it. — He greeted, with more honesty than he would care to admit.

         “  you look just like your mother.  ”                                                                          i guess i do carry her tenderness well         “  you both have the same eyes.  ”                                                                          because we are both exhausted         “  and the hands.  ”                                                                          we share the same wilting fingers         “ but that rage.           your mother doesn’t wear that rage.  ”                                                                          you’re right.                                                                          this rage is the one thing                                                                          i get from my father.

who: morcant and bryrony @bryonyparkinsons where: conservatory, nott manor

"You know my mother loves you, right? Lady Astrid Nott definitely would be here, if she could." Morcant commented to his friend, after both of them settled in the comfortable french Bergère chairs. Between them, a matching table completed the set, with a porcelain tea set and little appetizers. "Things could be better, I guess. Father is being stubborn and choleric, but that's not news to anyone that knows him. Yes, I'm still unmarried, as I'm constantly reminded." He snorted, in a rare showcase of ungentlemanly, and sipped his steaming cup of tea. "How about you?"

Morcant: if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what is one thing you absolutely have to resolve and/or do before then?

Call him crazy, but Morcant had his preparations in place for when he died. That's something only a few people knew about: how fucking paranoid he was. Underneath all the sweet smiles and good nature, there was a deeply neurotic and paranoid young man. He could try to say that it was a byproduct of the environment, but he didn't know how much truth there was in that statement. Elowen knew about it, she had his will in hand and his portrait hidden somewhere safe. He had letters for everyone he loved, telling what he thought they should be happy in his absence. That he loved them, and they should have a long, happy life. He wouldn't run desperately towards loved ones, making confessions that wouldn't have a tomorrow. Why would he tell Valerian and Bryrony that he loved them? He would die the next day, and there would be nothing to do. It wasn't fair to dump that on them and then die, they would have to live the rest of their lives with that in their conscience. Morcant wasn't a good person, but he wasn't about to condemn two people with a life filled with "what ifs". Things were better this way. Quiet and lonely. @nobelandloved @xsecretkeepers @bryonyparkinsons

“Champagne and fur slow dancing at French parties. Money and affairs at cocktail dinners. Smoking cigarettes and laughing in vain cause kings and queens never hurt, they say. Pretty eyes and mouths full of regrets, drinking red wine since the age of 14, cause wine is thicker than blood, and gold coins are running through their veins. Parents travel to Monaco for the honeymoon, only to get a divorce. Poor friends with nothing but money and dope. Call your hot wealthy boyfriend; tell him that you’ve fallen in love with someone too vulgar for your demons to drink a glass of liquor with. Work, bitches work, you shout as if you’ve chew your own gold by yourself. Red dresses and black suits dancing with depression and dying for attention. Oh my baby, with all your money, you couldn’t even buy yourself a soul. And now you pay all the artists in the world to write you a soul. Here you go darling; this poem is your soul.”

— We Call Them The Elite by Royla Asghar (via poems-of-madness)

PINNED POST !

this is a private roleplay account written by silver (they/she), for morcant nott, in the universe of @wingardiumfm.

i do not support or agree with jk rowling in any way, shape or form. none of her views reflect my personal views. in addition, the characters views on certain subjects might not reflect my views, as they're fictional characters inserted in an ongoing plotline.

THREADS [ 021 ]

drafting reply [ felicity, barty, severus, melis, alecto, valerian, bryony, amycus, cassian, arden, sirius, andromeda, dolores, regulus, elowen ]

waiting for my turn [ winnie, arden, bryony & valerian, alecto, narcissa ]

morcant's links

character intro / aesthetic tag / musing tag / wanted plots

pinterest board / spotify mixtape / nott family lore

who: morcant and elowen @nobelandloved where: nott library, nott manor

The clock ticked by the second in one of the paintings. It drove Morcant to the edge of insanity, once. One step from the void—the void looked back at him, he felt it. But then... Something pushed him to the abyss, maybe it was his father —familiarity breeds contempt—, maybe it was the inbreeding —none of them escaped the madness—. but he guessed it didn't really matter. Show me one pureblood who isn't a mad bastard, and I'll show you the face of a filthy liar. Or something. He knew it was true enough for the Nott family, but if anyone was safe enough from the dangerous type of madness, that person would be his little sister. He liked to believe that. Morcant would do unspeakable things to protect his sister—pun intended, since he was an Unspeakable for the Ministry. Morcant sat between two massive shelves, hidden by the grandiose and enormity of the library. Piles of books and parchments surrounded him, which wasn't a strange sight for someone like him. Neither was the crazy glint in his eyes, or the bags under his eyes of someone who didn't have a good night's sleep in years. Disrupting his intense study session, he saw Elowen's feet getting closer before he saw her face. — Something is about to happen, and we need to make precautions in case one of us die. — Morcant didn't say hi, or hello, or any blasé form of greeting. He didn't think it was necessary, with the two of them. Making small talk was left for high society sycophants and sucking up to powerful people. Not for your other half.