myrosiemykiller

[myrosiemykiller]

Barty: YOU NEED TO SPEND MORE TIME PAYING ATTENTION TO ME INSTEAD OF BEING IN THE HOSPITAL WING!!!

Evan: I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME IN THE HOSPITAL WING IF YOU STOPPED INSISTING ON FIGHTING ANYONE WHO LOOKS AT YOU FUNNY!!!!!!

Regulus: Both of you are absolutely insane. Please stop.

[myrosiemykiller]

evan rosier has a little kitten whose favourite place to sleep is on top of his head

barty physically cant handle it

[myrosiemykiller]

STOP SCROLLING ✋🏽 🛑

ITS EVAN ROSIER’S BIRTHDAY

some art is by @/likeafuneral, i couldn’t find the other artists :/

YOU MAY CONTINUE SCROLLING

[myrosiemykiller]

rosekiller <33333

[myrosiemykiller]

I've rarely seen a more validating sentence in my entire life.

[myrosiemykiller]

nsfw

rosekiller dryhumping, they get so desperate there's no time to take the clothes off, just trying to get as much friction as possible as they pant and bite and tug at each other's hair until both their pants have a wet spot

[myrosiemykiller]

[myrosiemykiller]

Barty gifts wind chimes made of ribs to Evan.

[myrosiemykiller]

intertwined, sewn together – @rosekillermicrofic – june 8 – cw: mentions of slight nsfw, smoking – word count: 584

The air was cool tonight, carrying the faint scent of Christmas, incoming snow and the smoke being exhaled from their mouths on the chilly night. Barty lay half sprawled on Evan, chin on his shoulder and legs thrown over his as they sat on the rooftop, looking over the Hogwarts grounds. They would soon be going home for the holidays tomorrow, but right now that didn’t matter much.

Barty exhaled a puff of smoke. “I really cannot believe it though. Beatrice Stuart turned down Edward Forster? I would’ve reckoned she was in love with him since 4th year.” He passed the blunt to Evan.

Evan shrugged, taking the cig from him. “Maybe not. Edward Forster, though?”

“What about him?”

“He’s a funny looking lad.”

“Well, she’s a funny looking girl.”

Evan snorted. “Fair enough. I heard she’s doing Professor Connelly.” Barty looks at him in surprise. “No way.” He grins.

Evan smirks back, taking a puff. “Way.”

They both turn back to overlook the empty grounds beneath them, silence hanging comfortable in the air. Barty takes a drag from the blunt, Evan says, “Nervous about going back tomorrow?”

Barty exhales. “Not nervous. Just dreading it.”

“Well, it is a dreadful place to go back to.” Evan says matter of factly.

Barty nods. “It’s the people more than the place.” He says quietly, passing the blunt as he looks up at Evan. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

Barty snorts softly. “Don’t play dumb, we both have pretty shitty families to go back to.” Evan chuckles. “Yeah, I guess we do.” A pause. “I’ll miss you though.”

Barty smirks up at him. “Will you, now? Or will you just miss seeing me on my knees while you tug my hair and f–“ Evan cuts him off with a groan. “B, I swear to god–“

Barty laughs, cupping Evan’s face with his free hand, chin resting between the apex of his thumb and forefinger as he turns his head to look at him. “I’ll miss you too, you absolute love of my life.” He says grinning as he kisses him softly. Evan kisses him back, rolling his eyes as they pull away.

They sit in silence for some time, listening to the faint sound of crickets in the quiet, chilly night, the only source of warmth being from each other’s bodies squished together on the rooftop. Cigarettes pass between two hands, smoke mingling with breaths exhaled in the cold. Among moments of flirting and passion, there were these soft moments, too. Not long, but lingering just enough to keep the sail on their love, softening their edges. Almost like they spoke a different language of their hearts that most people didn’t understand, and others gave up on.

Evan holds the cigarette to Barty's lips and watches him as he inhales the smoke, exhaling through his nose which was slightly red from the cold. He tightens his arm ever so slightly on his shoulders as he turns back to look over the quiet landscape beneath them.

“Hey, B?”

Barty hums. “Yeah?”

Evan takes a long inhale from the blunt, and exhales slowly, quiet for long enough that anyone else would have doubted if he had even heard the response, but Barty understood.

“D'you think we’d find each other in every universe?” Evan asks after a while. Barty exhales softly, and leans his cheek into Evan’s neck.

“I don’t know, Rosie. I think our souls are kind of entwined together, don’t you?”

Turns out, they were.

[myrosiemykiller]

Evan has quiet anxiety that is like a mantra in the back of his head..Intrusive thoughts. And the only time he speaks them out loud is around Barty in long rants or quiet bursts of passion. People think he has a staring problem, but really he's zoned out and trying to calm his heart and blood pressure. This man is constantly going at 100 on the inside but looks like he's at 0 on the outside. Get my man on some anxiety meds thanks.

[myrosiemykiller]

party - @rosekillermicrofic - wc: 560

The Slytherin dorms were quiet this late at night—eerily so, nestled deep in the dungeons like a secret the castle kept close to its heart. The fire in the common room had burned down to glowing embers, casting a faint orange sheen across the stone walls. The only sound was the distant drip of water echoing somewhere in the depths of the castle.

Evan stirred slightly in his bed, still caught in the tail-end of sleep. Something—or rather, someone—was crawling into the narrow space beside him, shifting the sheets with careful, practiced hands.

He cracked open one eye and sighed.

“I know that’s you,” he murmured into the dark, voice rough with sleep.

“Shh,” came the whispered reply, lips brushing against his shoulder. “You’ll wake Mulciber and he’s insufferable when sleep-deprived.”

Evan snorted, rolling slightly onto his back, just enough to peer at the boy who was now fitting himself against him like a piece that had always belonged.

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Evan said under his breath, “do Ravenclaws not have rules about sneaking into other Houses’ dormitories?”

“Ravenclaws have rules for everything,” Barty said as he propped himself up on an elbow and slowly lay himself over Evan’s chest. “We just choose to follow the ones we like. Besides”—his voice dipped into something soft and petulant—“I missed you at the party.”

Evan blinked up at him. “What party?”

“The one we threw for passing our O.W.L.s. You know, that thing we studied for all year and nearly sold our souls over?” Barty flicked a finger against Evan’s collarbone. “I looked for you. I even brought you one of those honey-caramel cakes you like, but it melted in my pocket. Because I waited. For hours, Evan.”

“You could’ve sent a message,” Evan mumbled, though his hand had already settled on Barty’s waist, pulling him in as if this whole intrusion was not only expected, but necessary.

“You don’t respond to messages when you’re sulking.”

“I wasn’t sulking.”

“Oh, you were,” Barty said smugly, tucking his head beneath Evan’s chin and sighing like he hadn’t just tiptoed through dungeons to get here. “Because I said I was studying with Yaxley and not you. Even though I asked you first and you were busy.”

Evan didn’t argue. He just tightened his arm around the other boy and let the silence stretch for a moment.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said finally, voice softer than before.

“You always say that, and yet…” Barty tilted his head up, the faintest glint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “You never kick me out.”

Evan looked down at him—at his flushed cheeks from sneaking through the chilly castle, at the wild mess of hair that always seemed half wind-blown. And no, he didn’t kick him out.

Instead, he brushed a thumb against the edge of Barty’s jaw and said, “Next time, don’t wait hours. Just come.”

Barty grinned, eyes closing as he nestled closer. “You’re the reason I’m going to flunk my N.E.W.T.s, you know.”

“Ravenclaws don’t flunk.”

“Well, this one might.”

Evan pressed a kiss to Barty’s hair, letting the warmth settle between them like a shield against the cold dungeon air.

“If you do, I’ll still keep sneaking you in.”

“Even if I’m in Azkaban?”

Evan chuckled softly. “Especially then.”

[myrosiemykiller]

you do! you do!

[myrosiemykiller]

*rosekiller flirting* Blood would bring out the color of your eyes.

[myrosiemykiller]

Barty *gets shoved down a hill and falls ungraciously to the bottm*

Evan: Are you o-

Barty: WHOA

Barty: That’d be awesome in the winter

[myrosiemykiller]

Evan would propose with a ring made of his baby teeth

And Barty would cry

[myrosiemykiller]

Evan never really paid much attention to the piano. Yes, he knew how to play and how to do it good, it was part of being from a high pureblood family.

He didn't like it, but didn't hate it either. It was just there.

That changed the moment he played for Barty because that look. Oh that look in his eyes was everything. Evan would play until his fingers were bleeding if it meant Barty would look at him like that. Like he just discovered the universe and didn't want to let it go.

[myrosiemykiller]

trust me, Barty

Inspired by AU @xencmcqueen