AN: I've suddenly become obsessed with Narcissa and Pansy. Satisfying half the muse. Tell me if you life.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

(No, it's not.)

Perfect, perfect, fucking fantastic.

(Liar.)

You love your life.

(Despise it.)

Oh, Narcissa, you're such a coward. Did you know that? A wimp, someone physically and mentally unable to fight back. You never have been, just completely submissive in every situation. As you are with Lucius. He's older, sexy and he loves you. The thing is though, you don't love him. But you have to. Because no one else loves you. What is love, anyway? Who cares. Pretend. You're gorgeous; beautiful. Take a look in the mirror, Narcissa. Admire your reflection in that nice, shiny mirror. No one else looks nearly as pretty and admirable as you, Narcissa Black and you know it.

Let him touch you. Do it. Let his cold, bony fingers touch you in that not-so pleasant way. More than not-so pleasant. In fact, that downright freezing, tortured sensual way that is supposed to feel so good but instead it makes you cringe. Close your eyes, Narcissa. Lose yourself in the ecstasy. Create a world for yourself. Tell Lucius you love him, even if you don't. Sleep in his sheets tonight and don't cry yourself to sleep. Bury your face in his pillow and try to fall asleep in the pitch black. Tune out his own steady breathing and pretend you're back home.

Eat, Narcissa. You're too fucking skinny. No, you're fat. You're beautiful. Ugly. Smart. Stupid. You are the world's biggest contradiction, Narcissa. Know what else you are? Worthless. Undeserving, unloved. You have a thousand voices playing in your head and you listen to the apphrehensive one. That shows weakness. Black's are not weak. You shouldn't be a Black. Narcissa Black. You bring shame to your family name.

Cry, Narcissa. You look so gorgeous when you cry. Break down because your tears are so salty, perfect. You aren't. Just your tears, the token of your misery.

Why the hell are you miserable? You don't deserve happiness, Narcissa. Your name is Narcissa, so you're selfish. You should be nicer, but meaner. Kiss Lucius, love him. Hate him. Fear him.

Keep him happy, Narcissa or he'll do what he's done before. You don't love him the way you should but take what you can get because no one else in the world is ever going to love you.

Your eyes are blue, your hair is blonde and your skin is fair. You look like an angel but you act like a devil. It's ironic, really. Assuming you know what ironic means, Narcissa considering you're so bloody stupid. You're pathetic, uneducated. No one will ever want you. All those guys gawking at you? It's because of your looks, Narcissa. They want your body. They don't want you. But you're used to giving away your body. Whore. You sell yourself to anyone willing to buy you because you're that confident, that insecure. They use you, abuse you and cast you out until someone else takes pity on you. Someone else eyes you and you agree so willingly because for one night you're in someone else's sheets and someone wants you. Not just Lucius, but someone. Until the morning when they disappear and the next day you hear them reporting the night to their friends.

Fight back, Narcissa. Stay weak. It's what you're good at.

It's who you are.

(You can change.)

You'll always be the same.

(You're worth more than this.)

You have no purpose.

You may as well stop breathing, Narcissa. You're just wasting it for the rest of us. I hate you, Narcissa. You're a failure. Your mother hates you and your father. No one could give one thing about you. No one would miss you if you died, Narcissa.

Do it. Kill yourself. No, don't. Because you don't deserve the chance to escape. Work through your problems then maybe someone will love you. That's a lie. No one loves you. Do whatever you want and it won't change anyone's opinion.

If you ever had a child he or she would be just as fucked up as you. Just as bitter. Are you bitter? Yes, you are. You're constantly bitter. When someone talks to you all you do is scream back insults and lock yourself up. They try and you reject them. Pathetic, Narcissa. You are hopeless.

Let Lucius take you and make you his. He'll take you repeatedly and make you feel what you should. Pain. He loves you, Narcissa. In that completely screwed up, dysfunctional way but it is love nonetheless. You barely deserve his love. Scream at him. Scream his name until he forces you to. Tell him you hate him until he hurts you and truly tells you what love is about. You've never known what love is. You've known pain and misery but not happiness.

But you smile? Of course you do. When you smile everyone looks away and when you cry they all look at you. You don't cry but you smile because you don't need attention. You want it, crave it but you don't need it. You don't need anything except for pain. Pain reminds you that this world is real.

Create your own world and your own pain. But then I guess this world does that enough.

I hate you Narcissa Black with every fiber in my being. Take another look in the mirror. Bask in the glory of your beauty. It's all that you've got.

I am perfectly aware that I am talking to myself.

No, Lucius, not again.

(Make me scream, Lucius.)

You're perfect in every way.

(You're cheap and useless and stupid.)

I'm okay, I promise.

(You're nothing but a waste of fucking space.)