Blaise Zabini. Three vault full of galleons to his name. Enchanting, exotic and mysterious. Playful, yet broody and mellow. Chaser. Touch him upon first meeting and you will be reduced to cinder. A Post-war Harry Potter RP blog. Normal FC: Louis Cordice. Female Blaise FC (mostly non-WR related unless stated on an M!A): Misty Copeland

{Part of Wizards Renegades. Please skim through the 'important' tab for a bit of information about Blaise and myself}

leeriverofwordsjordan:

darkly-exotic:

darkly-exotic:

Good.

*over the length of his speech, Blaise stares at him as he maintains a cool disposition on his face* *Don’t let him know, Zabini. Don’t let him fucking know.* Those weren’t the right words - mine. *Gads, you’ve gotten soft, haven’t you?* How did you find out. 

The right words? There are no right words for this, Zabini. The words I’m using are inadequate. I found out the day they had to pry my mind open to try and break the connection. 

… Right. *what else was he supposed to say to that wretched and anticipated explanation?* *the fact that they did that was predictable, but he hadn’t gotten word of why they would do such a thing* What else did they do.

luciusthepurebloodedmalfoy:

Even he could see through the little white lie Blaise was making.  Whether it was to reassure Lucius or not, he didn’t know.  ”Shy?  That doesn’t sound much like him.  Especially toward his parents?”  He shrugged.  ”He’ll come around in his own time.

_{{♚} — “You know how he can get, Sir” he articulated, mirroring the older man’s movement as his deep brown pupils rolled to the left. It seemed as if that the Pureblood Papa had been slacking off on his stiff superiority. “Though maybe you’re right.”}

           _{Smooth had shifted to slide across his cheek, his eyes bore at the former Death Eater and showed him an ironic smile. “Parents know best, after all, don’t they?”}

eeeeey

venemumflora:

                                                                      Do
                                                                            not
                                                                                TEST
                                                                                         me

i feel like explaining everything Blaise is saying because he ain’t normal but

_{{♚} — Well, well, well, he thought, a simper on his lips. His eyes the receptacle of boredom, he tilted his head as if mocking. “What did you think I was going to answer?”}

          _{Inaudibly clicking his tongue at the apparent mute being, his void eyes stared. “Nott, or the Flamehead,’ he hummed. "Choices, choices. What should one choose?” His tone slowly morphed into a sing-song annoyance as the names twirled in his mine; then he grinned and mouthed the answer. Either both, or none.}  

totally doesn’t work that way

WELL IT WORKS THAT WAY IN HIS MIND

since he thought jordan was dead, he thought she might want to join him

that’s why he said ‘one must be more willing to die than the other.’

Send me a ✁ with two names and I'll tell you whom my muse would kill.

_{{♚} — A derisive and exasperated snort left his lips when he saw the choices.} 

_{Really? I got to choose between two bloody idiots. His chuckle boomed, eyes roaming around the room before sharpening his gaze onto the figure before him.}

          _{“You are both equally idiotic, equally cantankerous, and equally execrable, however—” He raised his hand, as if stopping any further non-existent accusations and repudiations. “Someone has to be at least more willing to die.” Suddenly a blurred vision — then forcefully honed senses. “…Dina.”}