Morcant Nott. - Blog Posts

“The big screens, the plastic-made dreams Say you don’t want it, say you don’t want it It’s our world, the picture-book girls Say you don’t want it, say you don’t want it Don’t you ask me if it’s love, my dear Love don’t really mean a thing ‘round here The fake scenes the plastic-made dreams Say you don’t want it, say you don’t want it”

WHO: morcant nott & narcissa black @impcrios WHERE: st. mungo's hospital, blishwick wing WHEN: new wing at st. mungo's

━ So, have you seen my sister? I suppose you see her more than I do these days. ━ Morcant approached Narcissa, sipping on a glass of a sparkly beverage that smelled amazing. He had no idea what was going on with them. Elowen and Narcissa. One thing he knew for sure was his sister, and her whole face lit up whenever they entered the room. He knew the feeling very well, so an idea came to mind... Maybe he could provoke Narcissa a bit, see her reaction. ━ Are you drinking anything?

WHO: morcant nott & bryony and valerian parkinson @bryonyparkinsons @xsecretkeepers WHERE: st. mungo's hospital, blishwick wing WHEN: new wing at st. mungo's

Obviously, Morcant couldn't avoid Bryony and Valerian for too long. It was rather silly of him to do so, of course, but he would take all the time he could from telling them he was now engaged. It's not as if they would particularly mind, after all, they were married to each other. It was more of the "Morcant Nott being a selfish bastard" gag roll. Nobody could fault him for saying he was charitable, being a Nott was a warning sign as good as any. ━ Hello, Lord and Lady Parkinson. It's a pleasure to see you today. I'm afraid you just missed my fiancée, Winnifred Yaxley, but I'm sure we'll have time to socialize later. We'll send the invitations for the engagement party later this week. ━ Morcant smiled pleasantly, cutting straight to the chase. He couldn't stand sitting on this for a single more minute.

WHO: morcant nott & arden wilkes @ardenwilkes WHERE: st. mungo's hospital, blishwick wing WHEN: new wing at st. mungo's

As friends of years, there were things only Arden and Morcant knew of each other, and one thing nobody else knew was this: they made two Unbreakable Vows of their own. One was that they could never lie to each other, and the other was that they would never leave each other behind. However, there were still things he didn't feel entirely comfortable telling Arden yet. Like his newfound purist tendencies, that honestly scared Morcant himself. So, he brought up the next best thing: Arden's sister's marriage. ━ So, have you seen your sister lately? And Valerian? ━ Morcant asking. He couldn't bring himself to refer Valerian as Bryony's husband, even though that's exactly what he was. Morcant successfully held himself back from making a face, and that would be enough to convince anyone but Arden. ━ They seem to be pretty content.

WHO: morcant nott & alecto carrow @ofcarrowisms WHERE: st. mungo's hospital, blishwick wing WHEN: new wing at st. mungo's

━ If I had a galleon for mudblood in this room, I could buy you a new pub. ━ Morcant rolled his eyes, as he took a drag from the cigarette he got from Arden. A smoke break was a welcome relief from the constant smiling, which wasn't something he usually minded, but that was starting to put a strain on his facial muscles. ━ Disgusting. Which is rich, considering this shit bloody stinks, but certainly less than the mudbloods. Want one?

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.

ꕥ The Addams Family ꕥ ➛ 2.14 - "Morticia's Dilemma"

5x13

WHO: morcant nott & open WHERE: diagon alley, street near gringotts. WHEN: late afternoon

Morcant had a day off, which rarely happened for the unspeakable squad in the Ministry. He considered himself a very productive person, so he decided to put his financial affairs in order. After dropping by to see Alecto, he headed to Gringotts. He had several investments and assets in his name, and although goblins were very reliable to make money, they weren't very trustworthy. There, things went as expected. Some of the most important investments had major drops due to the war, so he had to rearrange a lot of things. When he left the bank, it was the late afternoon and his head felt like exploding. During all of this, his familiar, a black kneazle named Odin, walked dutifully by his side. Right after they left the bank, however, the feline stopped to smell someone. "Odin, no. Come on, stop being rude." He chastened the kneazle, who promptly ignored him and stopped right in front of the newcomer. "I'm so sorry about him. Are you in a hurry? He's being trained to detect magical imbalance, so I think he might be worried about you."

is there anyone in your life you wish you had a better relationship with? if so, how come? what makes this person important to you?

Morcant was pathetic. Sobbing like that, just because his daddy sent him a letter in his birthday, telling he was a disappointment and that he didn't need to come back for the holidays. It was his fourteen year old birthday, he would never forget it. How Elowen hugged him as he sobbed, hidden from everyone else between Hogwart's endless bookshelves. "I hate him so much, El. I hate him, why did he have to do this? I hate him. Why can't he love us? What did we do wrong? Why am I such a disappointment?" Nobody would understand but his sister, the bittersweet feeling. Satisfaction for screaming at his father, resentment for never quite getting over it. Glad about his mother's interference so things didn't escalate, miserable because she didn't move a finger to make things better. "Merlin, I hate him so much. Someday I'm gonna be so much better than him, and he's gonna choke. He won't be able to handle it and anger will consume him. Merlin, I hope he dies. I'm not sorry, I'm not. I know it makes me a bad person, but I don't care." Morcant has always been the best kind of liar. He even lies to himself. @nobelandloved

morc: how would you metaphorically describe your life and the journey(s) you've been on?

Barty Crouch Jr. was a small gift life dropped on his lap when things got hard. Not that Morcant was particularly deserving of it, he wasn't. And he knew that. Morcant was selfish, arrogant, greedy, evil, truly individualistic and filled with hubris. He was a liar, and he thought he was better than most people. He was the byproduct of centuries of sludge and madness, and that was fine with him, because at least he didn't appear to be as insane as he felt inside. If his life was a journey, Morcant was getting the shortcut with a smile and a picnic basket. Not because he deserved, but because he was the best kind of cheater there was. And it was okay, because Barty didn't really mind that about him. They were one and the same. Two fucking bastards in a single bastard picnic basket. It happed on a friday night, during one of the underground masked parties Alecto hosted at Delirium. Mouths touched, bodies hotly against each other and suppressed moans so nobody would hear. Things escaled to a level Morcant couldn't believe, and now, three weeks later, they lied together in Barty's flat. In Barty's bed.

"It's like you showed up in the right time, you know. Teeth baring, bright eyed and a fuck everybody attitude." Morcant whispered, fingers threading Barty's hair, short strands tickling his hand and giving him chills. "You deserve the world, Barty. I know you don't believe me, and that's okay, I don't believe I deserve anything good either. But I need you to know." Morcant got lost in Barty's sad eyes, his dark eyebags drawing him closer in a way that two magnets didn't normally attract each other. He could see himself in the way Barty screamed about his father, all the anger and resentment building up inside. When the Crouch boy appeared vulnerable with Morcant, unlike the invulnerable wall of attitude he gave most people... It drove Morcant to start petty fights with Crouch Sr. for no reason, feeding the enmity between the aurors and the unspeakables. "Everything is shit right now, so at least we're together here. Whatever you need, I'll be there, no questions asked." If Morcant ended up dying, he would send Barty a letter telling him to be happy, because that would make his father miserable. @bcrtiesjr

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

Morcant: have you had any romantic or sexual experiences that made you realize something about yourself?

@bryonyparkinsons @xsecretkeepers Girls were objectively hot. Morcant had always known that. He liked girls, he'd had crushes before. Merlin, he'd been half in love with Bryrony for half of his life. When he looked at her, it was all sunshine and rainbows. She made everything seem simple. She was so good, Morcant genuinely thought they would get married someday. Maybe. He didn't know how that would work, because marriages were dysfunctionals by nature, and he didn't wanna risk ruining their friendship like that. If they got married, they would start fighting and it would all grow cold. Her blonde hair falling on her face, blue eyes that reminded him of a blue sky in a rainless day, and hands so soft... So small and soft, like she could heal every ache he had ever had. How smart she was, resourceful when she thought no one was looking, and how it broke his heart that her eyes were clouded with dreams she thought she couldn't have. If he could, he would pick her dreams from Yggdrasil itself and bring her in a silver platter. Morcant knew better, that marriages weren't meant to be happy. At the same time, there was his best friend. Things were easier when he didn't know he was in love with his best friend as well. It hit him on a saturday morning, after a day running around in the Nott Gardens like they didn't have a single worry. They were disgusting with sweat and mud, lying on the grass, too tired to get up. Valerian had his eyes closed, basking in the tiny ray of light that shone between the clouds. He had long eyelashes that rested against his high cheekbones. Morcant didn't realized he said that out loud. "You have long eyelashes." He blurted out, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Valerian suddenly opened his eyes, and Morcant felt like all the air had left his lungs. Fuck. He was in love.

Morcant about Valerian's first fiancée. @xsecretkeepers

MORCANT'S POV UNDER THE CUT -- (i'm considering it's his first fiancée, not bryrony!)

How pathetic was he, again? Morcant was supposed to be happy for Valerian. It was his best friend's engagement party, he was going to be the best man. The best man at his best friend's wedding.

The man Morcant had been in love with for years.

But the worst part? That wasn't even the reason why Morcant was sad about the whole thing, no. He already came to terms that he can't be in a relationship with Valerian, that his best friend didn't like him back and it was impossible. So no, he wasn't devastated for the whole unrequited love situation.

He was devastated because Valerian looked miserable.

Maybe he could try to fool someone else, but not Morcant. The way his eyes danced across the room, as if looking for a way out, somewhere to run. His hands resting on the abs Morcant knew he had, but not for any biblical reason, but because he was the best friend. It was like Valerian was trying his best not to puke.

It wasn't obvious, it was just... Morcant knew Valerian more than anyone else.

From his bed hair in the morning, to the way his bright eyes narrowed when he was sarcastic, to the shape of his lips when he said Morcant's name. He knew everything. Or so he thought.

He wasn't stupid, his best friend wasn't getting married for a burning love towards his wife. It was duty. But, still... Why was he looking that miserable? Did something else happened?

Morcant wanted to cradle the Parkinson's face in his hands, caress his cheekbone with his thumb and feel the warmth of his forehead against his lips. Oh Merlin, it felt like a punch in his gut.

"Of couse I'm going to be the best man, are you kidding? They look great together." Morcant replied to the other person, as if his gut wasn't tearing itself into shreds.

And he was good at it. Acting like his heart didn't belong to Valerian, like he didn't want to press him against the wall and show him the filthiest sounds a body could make.

Morcant was the best at lying through his teeth. He even lied to himself.

for valerian: what is something or someone you know you can't afford to lose? how far are you willing to go to make sure you don't lose it/them?

Valerian had drunk too much, but he didn't think he could be blamed for that. It was a party after all, his own engagement party. He was allowed to celebrate. It was definitely the alcohol that made him sick to his stomach, not the thought of marrying this woman. They'd been together for years, why would the thought of the engagement make him feel like he wanted to run, and then keep running, until no one could find him.

His eyes drifted, not for the first time, to the other end of the room. He had never been good at keeping his eyes off his best friend. They sought him out against his will. It was easy between them, with a look he would know, know if both of them were engaged in mind numbing, banal conversation, or if one needed rescuing from an overbearing relative. The worst times were when he didn't look back. When Valerian was left to wonder what the person had said to capture his attention, if this would be the one to steal him away. It was so easy, in those moments, to imagine pulling the other into a side room. Whispering all the unspoken things, demanding his attention and more. But then more images followed, of rejection, of things going horribly wrong, of Valerian left alone, without the only person who knew how to care about. Those images terrified him far more than simply allowing things to remain as they were. Someone approached Valerian from behind, evidently having noticed his mood. "Everything ok?" They asked, a hand settling on his shoulder. "Yeah man, I'm fine."

Jonah Hauer-King | Vanity Fair Awards Insider in Cannes, France | May 22, 2024 | 🎥 Glambygeorgiag

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.

who: morcant and alecto @ofcarrowismswhere: delirium.

Alecto Carrow had a first-row chair for the savagery hidden in his heart. The rage, the fury, the blind thirst for destruction. She understood like few people, all the vicious heartache that came with having sharp edges. Except his came with no warning sign and a boyish charm—hers came with silky, flaming hair and blood red lipstick. — We want to invest in the bar. Parkinson and I. — He said, sipping his second glass of firewhiskey. It should burn, he thought, but it didn't. He wondered what that said about him. Maybe the same thing that explained why he couldn't call the man he was in love with by his first name. He couldn't, it would show in how entire face like the miseable, sappy bastard he turned into after Val had gotten married with Bry. — I'm fucking sick and tired of having to deal with angry mudbloods while I just want to have a drink in peace.

who: morcant and regulus @impcrios where: room of prophecies, department of mysteries, ministry of magic

Neither of them knew, but both Morcant Nott and Regulus Black had already been fucked over by narrative before they were even born. Perhaps they knew, in the same self-aware arrogance where they fished they self-loathing, bit by bit. They didn't know what the Moirai would spun for them in the fabric of fate. Since they worked for the Room of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries, some would call that poetic justice. The Nott heir stood by one of the shelves, watching the long line of prophecies with the intent of someone listening to music. Crystal balls that looked inofensive enough, but he knew people that had gone crazy while working there. Lucky him, he was halfway there, maybe that's why he almost didn't feel the pull. Working there during midnight was peaceful and eerie, which was his mood of preference when studying their cases. You couldn't be too comfortable over there. — Black. — He nodded to Regulus as he saw him. For someone with the social skills Morcant had —you get more flies with honey—, not knowing how to approach the topic was disquieting. He couldn't exactly be blatant and outright ask him what he wanted to know. — Did you see anything missing or out of place in your hand? He asked, looking closely to the other's face with a somber sort of respect. It was the best resemblance of friendliness he could emulate in the present circunstances.

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.

GOSSIP GIRL (2021-) 1x02, “She’s Having a Maybe”, dir. Karena Evans

GOSSIP GIRL (2021) | 1x12 - Gossip Gone, Girl

“Polo’s mothers might be lesbians, but they’re old, ok? They don’t get it. I don’t get it either, to be honest. I’m not going to pretend I’m modern, but– girls don’t dream of having a white wedding with two grooms, you know? It’s not what we were taught. I used to think that people were like two halves trying to make a whole, or like nuts and bolts. All you had to do was find that one piece that fit you perfectly. But Polo and I didn’t really fit together before. Then you showed up…and now we do fit together. You’re the piece we were missing. And, hell, when you find love, it sucks to have to let it go”

Polo/Cayetana/Valerio in Élite’s Season 3

who: morcant and valerian @xsecretkeepers, mention to alecto @ofcarrowisms where: delirium, alecto's bar in knockturn alley

"This is our new investment, my friend." Morcant raises his hands, as if showcasing the establishment to Valerian. "Resorting to places like those cheap pubs in Diagon Alley and Hogsmead is preposterous. For starters, we don't know what happens in the kitchen and only thinking about stepping a foot there makes me nauseous. We need a place for us, our kind. Alecto has a great moneymaker in her hands, here. If we invest, we can turn Delirium into the place where every respectable pureblood wixen goes to have fun, or... Discuss private matters. Think of private rooms, a secret speakeasy for exclusive guests." Confidence exhuded from his pores, as Morcant waved his wand and projected in the air an illusion of what the bar could become.

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?"

relationships — wanted plots

ROMANTIC / SEXUAL

[ THE THROUPLE ; ( valerian & bryrony parkinson ) ] morcant had a thing for his best friend for a while now, but he never thought it would go anywhere, since he's not that deserving of love and had to marry a good pureblood girl. his best friend was in a very similar situation, and married a good pureblood girl. whenever morcant thought about his best friend marrying, he thought the girl would end up stealing him from morcant. this, or the girl being completely left aside. that's not what happened at all. the best friend's new wife? fantastic girl, fit their friendship like she had always been there. she's stunning, funny, intelligent. now he's in love with his best friend and his best friend's wife. what now?

[ THE CASUAL AFFAIR ; barty crouch jr ] all it took was a heated look during a secret underground party, flirty jokes traded under hot breaths, and a bottle of firewhiskey. their chemistry together could blow up the entire diagon alley, it's becoming a little more than he bargained for. the problem is: this person might not be the one their parents want for him.

[ THE ARRANGED MARRIAGE ; winnie yaxley ] marrying was never in his cards, he knew exactly what a marriage entailed: fighting and unhappy lives. his parents were miserable, he would never willingly subject himself to this. however, things change, and somehow he saw himself bethrothed with her. he was afraid she would be just one more chore, something that would ruin his plans. after a while, they both realize they have more in common than they imagine. maybe, their only ticket out of an unhappy marriage might be each other.

[ THE ROTTEN SOULMATE ; 1 open slot ] they used to date during their hogwarts years, they know the worst of each other, and they could have gotten married. unfortunately, it didn't work, since the relationship got cold and became a friendship. now, they are each other's other half and promised to get married if they're still single when they're 40.

[ THE SYCOPHANT ; 1 open slot ] morcant is well aware that this person uses his body and status for their own gain, but again, so is he. they are two beautiful, lonely people who use each other when they need to fill their heart for a night. sometimes, they even go together for high society events. it's a relationship of convenience, but not without its perks.

BUSINESS / WORK

[ THE UNSPEAKABLE COLD CASE ; arden wilkes, melis marangoz, barty crouch senior ] the corridors in the department of mysteries harbor secrets that refuse to fade. morcant has uncovered a cold case—a file from decades ago, meticulously buried by corrupt officials desperate to hide the truth. morcant always knew that the ministry was corrupt, but now that he's seeing it up close, he's not so sure that ignoring is a viable option. so, here's a question: what price must we pay when the truth becomes a liability?

arden wilkes and morcant decide to investigate the situation further. melis marangoz, another unspeakable, stumbles upon their investigation and must decide whether to help uncover the truth or turn a blind eye.

mr. crouch senior, a ministry official, starts asking too many questions—do they want to expose the corruption or bury it deeper?

MUSE C, an outsider with knowledge of the case, gets approached by morcant and decides to help him, but their motivations remain unclear.

MUSE D, another unspeakable, morcant warns morcant to drop the case before it’s too late—do they know something he doesn’t?

[ THE MONEYMAKER; alecto carrow ] he's an investor, so I need people with promising business he can support and invest.

[ THE FINANCIAL ADVISOR ; valerian parkinson ] financial advisor and partner in his economic ventures who help manage his investments.

[ THE DARK ARTIFACTS COLLECTOR ; elowen nott ] a wixen that he trusts to trade, sell and study dangerous artifacts he might encounter.

[ THE PAIN IN THE ASS ; atticus diggory’s parents ] this person's boss has been trying to aprehend the items in nott manor for literal years, since the family's obsession with keeping records managed to keep part of magical history registeres. now mr. nott put the responsibility to deal with the ministry on his son, morcant.

[ THE ASSURANCE PLAN ; open ] morcant is used to cleaning up his father’s messes. considering the amount of trouble mr. geraint nott (his father) normally gets himself into (and also considering the family's history), they probably have a team of trusted solicitors, barristers, etc. morcant has a pretty good foresight, so he would be preparing for the future, in case the worst happens.

ACADEMIA / MAGIC

[ THE SEER ; 1 open slot ] this person worked alongside him as a seer to provide materials to his get thesis as a master in spells. the theme was "binding magic in prophecies".

[ DARK ACADEMIA ; lucius malfoy, open slots ] scholars can be obsessed with their fields of interest, and he is no different. his expertise in binding magic and prophecies topple to the darker side of magic, and he found other people who want to study dark magic in the name of research. but here's a question: how far is too far?

MUSE A becomes fascinated by morcant’s knowledge and asks to be his apprentice. the question is: does he become a mentor or a corrupter?

morcant, MUSE B, MUSE C, AND MUSE D have formed a secret circle of scholars dedicated to studying dark magic under the pretense of academic research. when the information gets leaked and they start receiving threatening owls, they must cover their tracks and find out who's behind it.

[ THE WANDMAKER ; 1 open slot ] do you know how the loyalty of a wand works? how do i use my want to the fullest potential? how do i make sure that my wand works for me and for me only? how do i strenghten my connection with my want? that's what those two are trying to figure out. whatever it takes.

SOCIAL / PLATONIC

[ THE BROTHER FROM ANOTHER MOTHER ; severus snape ] there's a popular saying about how men live less when they do stupid things together. this person is morcant's brother in every way that matters, and they are truly there for each other. morcant feels safe with this person and is maybe the only one who truly understands what is going on in morcant's mind.

[ UNDERGROUND PARTY CIRCLE ; open slots ] morcant puts his duty above everything else, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to party. as someone who knows the right people, he's often seen in secret, underground parties. what happens there, stays there, and people know it. whenever he goes to those parties, it's like he's a completely different person. his duty is left aside and the most primal need to have fun is let out.

[ DEATH EATER FRIENDS ; open slots ] some of them were childhood friends, others met along the way, but eventually they all got together in the name of pureblood supremacy. at least that's what they think he support, but he's not that sure about it anymore...

[ THE CONSPIRATION ; regulus black ] morcant and regulus are coworkers and grew up in the same social circle, but were never really that close. up until now. now, they are joining their ranks, supporting the cause, biding their time. when paranoia starts eating them out and they fear for their loved ones lives, they are willing to sacrifice themselves if it means to defeat the undefeatable.

[ THE CHAMPAGNE FRIEND ; 1 open slot ] they party together, they have fun together, they spend all their money together; because they are filthy rich and spoiled rotten. it's not a very deep box, but you know what people say about shallow boxes... sometimes they have a fake bottom.

[ THE UNBREAKABLE VOW ; 2 open slots ] two people he knows ended up making an unbreakable vow, and guess who had to perform the vow ceremony? yes, morcant. now, he's involved in something more intricate than he put this galleons in...

[ THE POLYJUICE MYSTERY ; 1 open slot ] your muse has been meeting with morcant for a while, but has no idea that it’s him, since he used polyjuice potion to disguise himself. you meet in some sort of shoddy pub like hog’s head, he buys information from other influent families, and leaves.

[ THE MUGGLE MUGGING ; 1 open slot ] morcant decided to visit stonehenge for research purposes, as much as he dislikes muggles. there, he ends up being mugged by a muggle, which doesn't improve his views of muggles, but you try to tell him there’s bad people everywhere. the thief got stunned by morcant and nobody saw a thing. nobody but your muse. would you tell the ministry? or would you do something else…?

𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭-𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑨 𝑰. the aftermath is secondary (but it always comes)

All you do is scream inside, boy. Where's your goddamn courage?

"You are nothing more than a senile old man, dragging the family name through the mud." You sneer, handsome features become scarlet, because that vein in your neck pumps blood that is trying to escape and stain your hands, and you're desperate to be anything but your father.

"Our lineage? It's cursed, almost as bad as the Black family." You judge, like entitlement isn't also a curse or a language that you speak fluently, like your high horse couldn't topple you and all your little machineries.

"We are the byproduct of centuries of inbreeding, father. If you think we cannot get much worse than that, you have another thing coming." You rage, self-hatred running rampant in your veins like your hounds from hell race through the Nott Grounds at night, desperate to rip off arms of intruders.

Nobody but your mother and sister know about the screaming matches you have with your father. Acting like two savages, vocal chords echoing through corridors silenced by Perpetual Vows for thousands of years. It's not about what he's doing, it's the fact that you could do better.

You could do better, and that kills you inside. Because you just can't wait, can you? You cannot wait for your time to shine and get your grubby little hands on the family crown. Your thirst for power seeping from each pore, glinting in your green eyes and hiding in the shadows of your boyish face. You're too young to be the leader, and you're too old to be dismissed as unthreatening, so now you're left to your own resources.

And your argument is based on a fragile foundation, made of cracked stone that is being kept together by hardened gold. It's not a lie, no. But that's not entirely the truth either. You've never been too good at those anyway.

Well, you're made of mead, boy.

The drink of the gods: a result of fermented honey, and fermenting is just another word for rotting. You're rotten honey. Sweet, but acid. You get drunk on your own hubris.

If you need to tell yourself that your father is supporting an outsider, forgetting about your traditions... So, be it. Tell yourself that.

You can be a drunk, yes, not stupid. There's a thought snaking through the crevices of your brain, balancing doubt in the tiny point of a sharp knife.

Should you support? Or should you not?

It's a growing obsession that's been corrupting your fragile ego for years. Should you support the opposite side just to antagonize? Or should you join and prove yourself to be a much better follower than your own old man?

It's not about what's right, of course not. Why would it be? The thought doesn't even cross your mind, yet.

But you don't want to be made of a fool either, so you ask yourself who is even this Voldemort fellow. After all, if he were from a pureblood family, you would have heard about his folks sooner.

Every pureblood can trace their lineage, registered on family trees and parchments with Dark Magic older than most houses. You would have seen him in any of the dusty tapestries, would have seen portraits of his grandparents painted and showcased on oppulent walls of your friend's manors.

You ask yourself who are his parents, his ancestors. They are so worried about pureblood supremacy, but are they even making the right questions? Or any question at all?

Are you the fool? Are you the only one who can't see it? Are you making the right choice? You couldn't be. For that, you would have to make a choice, and your choice was not even choosing at all.

The aftermath of the festival prodded the knife into your skin, balancing a fragile position. You know you will have to make a decision soon. Avoiding can only be done to a certain point, and the aftermath can be secondary, but it always comes. It's a snake blackening your skin or a stain blackening your face in the tapestry.

Voldemort is just means to an end for the pureblood society. A leader and a scapegoat. He is merely saying what other people have thought for years, making waves and decisions for those who are too coward.

People like you. Who are greedy, and ambitious, and too comfortable in their thrones like a god licks drops of ambrosia running between their fingers.

All you do is scream inside, boy. What is your choice?

MORCANT ELDRITCH NOTT — the chain-breaker

Comment your character’s name for an aesthetic based on our plot!

“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)

         “  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.