#rosekiller microfic

[rosekillermicrofic]

Hi Rosekiller lovers! <3

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[jameskinniesrise]

and they were roommates *gasp* and they were roommates

but its rosekiller

[thedvilsinthedetails]

rosekiller band au microfic pt2

yayyy part 2 is here! (Again if there’s any typos lmk ty)

(also yeah I changed their ages slightly, the skittles r now 23 not 25 what r u gonna do about it?)

anywayssss here’s the ppl that asked to be tagged/said they wanted more so im tagging them anyway (sorry if u didn’t want that): @always-reading @lady-stardust-incarnate @lulublack90 @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @weirdtinkerbellversion @depressedtheatrekiddo @blu3stars @nikholascrow @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl @picklerab23

(As always if u wanna be tagged or not tagged pls lmk I won’t mind at all <3)

Link to Part One

Link to Next Part

***

Evan woke up the next morning to the harsh bleep of his phone that always managed to elicit pure terror in his body. He groaned and rolled out of bed. He’d forgotten to turn off the alarm and of course he was awake at six in the fucking morning on a Saturday.

He threw on a dressing gown over his tank top and plaid pyjama bottoms, slipped into his fluffy slippers and trudged to the kitchen for some coffee.

Once he got to the kitchen he saw Dorcas was already sat at the little island she passed him a warm cup of coffee as soon as he sat down. Dorcas had always been the earliest riser of the band, always eager to get ready quickly and get the hell out of the house, he supposed that’s what growing up as the eldest sister to four brothers did to you. 

“Heard your alarm go off, figured you’d forgot to turn it off.”

“Dorcas you lifesaver. And I mean seriously a lifesaver, I might have murdered someone without this coffee.”

Dorcas laughed.

“Who?”

Evan rubbed his eyes.

“Barty probably. He’s fucking annoying.”

“Any excuse to get up close to him then more like.”

Evan’s head snapped up.

“What?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes.

“Please you’re shit at hiding it.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout Cas.”

Evan mumbled, taking a long drink from his mug. 

“Please, save the crap. If you don’t have a crush on him, why do you get so worked up by people calling you a couple. It consumes your every waking thought, now why is that? Tell me.”

“Ughhh I don’t want to think about it.”

He groaned and stared into the brown murky depths of the mug he was cradling close to him.

Dorcas softened.

“Look, Marls and Barty are really close, our next tour stop is London which means she’ll obviously drop by rehearsals. I can get her to ask him if he-“

“He doesn’t.”

Evan ran his thumb over a tiny chip in the ceramic. It was a mug Barty had painted around four years ago, Dora had decided for her sixteenth she wanted to go to a pottery painting place like when they were little. Barty was- honestly pretty shit at painting. The background was covered in vast uneven strokes of black. He’d tried to paint a white ferret on it - ‘Ev this one is for you, if you were any animal I’d say you’d be a ferret.’ - thing is it looked more like a snake with legs that was also, well, a zombie. It was Evan’s most prized possession. He’d be taking it to the grave. He turned it to look inside the handle. Barty had been too lazy to paint that part so instead he’d just written crudely with the brush - ‘B + E forever bitches!’. His eyes crinkled fondly as he read it. 

“I just need to get over it.”

His expression hardened and he looked up at Dorcas again.

“Get over what?”

They both turned to find Barty in the doorway. His hair was sticking up in all directions. Fuzzy spikes of green and black. He stretched his arms all the way up as he yawned, flexing his wrist so his ‘SKITTLES’ tattoo was on full display. He had one of Evan’s jumpers on over his pyjama top. Evan really wanted to reach out and hold. Why’d he have to go and look so soft? Wasn’t fucking fair. 

“Nothing Jr.”

Barty nodded in response as he padded over and sat himself in the chair next to Evan.

“Why’re you even awake?”

Dorcas asked.

Barty dropped his head down onto the island counter dramatically.

“Forgot to turn off my alarm.”

Dorcas laughed out loud, fully threw her head back and everything.

“Two birds of a fucking stupid feather you two are.”

She got up and put her mug in the sink before heading out of the kitchen. Barty turned his head up to look at Evan as soon as she was gone.

“You don’t have to tell me anything Evan, but if you want to you can. You know that right?”

Barty lifted his head and propped it up on his hand as Evan nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah I know Barty.”

“Good.”

Barty shuffled his chair closer before dropping his head onto Evan’s shoulder and falling quiet. It was instinctual, the way Evan brought his arms up around him. After a few moments he looked down though, Barty was suspiciously silent.

“Bee?”

He whispered.

“M’awake. You’re just comfy Ev. You’re really good at hugs.”

Might be ‘cause I was built to hold you.

Damn that’s a fucking stupid thing to say. Fuck I’ve turned into Reg whenever he’s around James.

Yeah Evan needed to get over this like fucking yesterday.

•••

Barty breathed in deeply, face buried in the crux of Evan’s neck. He couldn’t help it really. Evan smelled like home. Probably a creepy thing to say, oh well wasn’t like he said it out loud. Evan was home though, plain and simple.

He didn’t want to move, probably ever. Still eventually as the rest of the group came pattering into the kitchen and things got livelier he had to shift away.

•••

They got on the train at noon, ready to head to London. Evan took the window seat watching as the city turned to rolling hills turned to city again. Barty kept sneaking glances over at him, wasn’t really sure what he was looking for honestly but-

“What?”

Evan asked finally, tone irritated.

“Nothing, just bored.”

“Oh um-“

Evan glanced around, he and Barty were in a two seater while the rest of the band sat around the table in front of them, chatting animatedly.

“S’fine Ev, not anything you can do about it, I’m gonna be bored till we get off this bloody train. Fucking buzzing.”

“Excited for tomorrow then yeah?”

Barty turned to him with shining eyes. 

“D’you remember when we were eighteen? First time at the O2 for a concert? Fuck d’you remember seeing it like that, covered in all the lights ‘n shit. Eventim Apollo doesn’t even compare.”

Evan chuckled. They’d gone to the O2 for the first time June 2019 to see a concert when Evan was still in his backstreet boys phase, something no one was allowed to talk about now under any circumstances.

“D’you remember what you said to me?”

•••

“Look at that stage Ev. Imagine playing there. For all these people.”

Evan turned to Barty and ruffled his hair.

“One day Bee, we’ll be playing here. I promise you yeah? We’ll be playing here and it’ll all the fucking sold out.”

“You think?”

•••

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

***

AHHH I HOPE U LIKED ITTTT (idk when part 3 will be coming but hopefully soon <333333)

[isabel-lillah]

Barty is loud in every sense of being. He always has been and always will be a loud presence in the room. He's loud, he's bold, and he always has a sharp comeback on his tongue. Everyone, even people he has never talked to, knows that about him.

What people don't know is that Barty gets into his head sometimes. A dull silence overcomes him, and Barty's solution for that is being loud - loud enough to shadow the void. It's a shield of sorts, one he has been using since he was a kid.

But, sometimes, Barty needs to put the shield down and let someone else hold it for him. Someone like Evan.

Evan is the only person Barty trusts to be completely silent around, while Evan is the only one to notice Barty needing to go quiet.

Sometimes, Evan drags Barty to a quiet spot when he feels he has to. Sometimes, Barty seeks Evan on his own.

Because it's Evan and his comfortable silence that fill up the void. Every time.

[ensbunny]

Evan goes to the hospital (627 words)

Evan had had a bad few weeks. His side started hurting out of the blue when he woke up. He was willing to ignore it and neglected to tell anyone. Of course, that landed him in the hospital with a clingy boyfriend holding onto him like he might run away.

Barty traced over the tattooed ring on his finger a million times, sitting hunched over in his chair and resting his head in his lap.

“You look uncomfortable there, love bug,” He said, scratching at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah,” He grunted, tugging at his arm, petulantly.

He adjusted a little in his seat, biting his lip to keep from crying out.

“What? Are you okay?” He squeezed his hand hard and started standing up, “Let me get a nurse.”

“Crouch, stop, no—” He protested, pulling him back in. “Look, it’s alright, they’re prepping surgery for me.”

“I wish I could watch,” He frowned, and then cringed when he realized.

It was too late. He was already laughing— or trying not to. The pain vibrated through his body, running down the right side of his stomach. He couldn’t stop, only made worse by Barty’s glare.

“Stop that,” He stuck his hands on Evan’s face, smoothing out his scrunched up features. “I just don’t want to leave you.”

“We can ask, but I doubt they’d go for it,” He rasped, shaking off his breathlessness.

“I just want to meet the surgeon, then—“

He was interrupted by a flurry of chaos drifting in from the hallway. He tried to peek through the little window on the door, freezing. Oh no. He recognized that shouting.

“You didn’t.”

“If you died, they would kill me for not telling them,” He explained, holding out his hands in surrender.

“But they’re all mad—“

The next thing he knew his friends were barging into his room, Pandora at the head of it all.

“Mad? Y’know what’s mad? Being in pain for weeks and not telling your twin sister!” She lectured, picking up a chair and hauling it directly beside Barty’s.

“It’s just appendicitis,” He shrugged, sheepishly.

“It’s just appendicitis,” She mocked his voice, sitting down in her chair, grasping his hand. “Surgery is something you tell your friends about.”

“I told Barty!”

“I checked you into the hospital, princess,” He betrayed, rubbing his shoulder.

“What about you two? I thought you had dates tonight!” He accused, grasping at straws for some reason they should all leave him alone.

“Marlene or being with my friend in his last moments?” Dorcas commented dryly, taking another seat on the opposite side of the bed.

“James drove me here. He said if you die, he wants your paint set,” Regulus echoed.

“I’m not going to die,” He grumbled, hunching in on himself, biting down on a whimper.

“If you keep moving you might,” Barty badgered, trying to get him sit up straight.

“You should all go home, go on your dates! I’ll be fine here,” He argued, feeling uncomfortably cared for.

Neither one of them paid any attention to him, starting a new conversation. They stayed true to their word, crowding around his bed for each hour he had to wait. Pandora and Regulus played cards over his blanket covered feet while Barty face-timed his mother so she could catch up with everyone.

He felt his muscles unlock slowly, surrounded by jokes about his death and sardonic laughter. He hadn’t even realized he was so tense. The once stale and dreary room felt ten times warmer. He thought, when they came to usher him away, that he had the worst friends in the world.

[siriusblackfamilytrauma]

A Scrap of Rosekiller for you all <33

idea from a video by @lesspotter on tiktok 

“I don't get it, he was supposed to be mine,” Barty complains as he throws open the door to their dorm, tossing himself dramatically onto his bed.

Barty has been engrossed in the idea of Regulus and James since he found out about the two. Every day, as if it were a second nature, Barty would fixate on the couple, then come back to their dorm and gripe. Despite his house, Evan thinks the shade of jealousy looks poor on him.

“Yeah, that's the worst.” Evan mocked, with no attempt to feign sympathy.

“I mean really, a Gryffindor?”

“Crazy-” Even rolls his eyes. He couldn't be less concerned about Bartys emotions at this moment.

Barty has convinced himself he liked Regulus out of a feeling of obligation. The heir to the black throne, and a boy. What a way to piss off his father. As far as true feelings though, this was nothing more than obsessive infatuation.

“And not just any Gryffindor, a marauder” Barty stands up and begins pacing their dorm. It is an old habit that Evan has not seen in a while.

“It's truly mad of him.” Evan responds. He hasn't bothered to look up from his homework once yet.

“You're not even listening.” Barty whines.

“I am listening, I just can't bring myself to care.” 

The sudden anger that coated Evans' voice catches Barty off guard. “What?”

“I mean really Barty, you don’t own him, he was never yours. I don't even think you actually like him.” 

“That's not the point.”

“Of course it is. Don't you think Regulus deserves to be with someone who actually likes him back?” Evan rises from his seat and walks closer to Barty, getting in his face. “Don’t you think you deserve to be with someone you actually fancy in the first place?” 

“Evan-”

“I just don't understand why you're deflecting your emotions like this.” At this point Evan is yelling weeks of emotions at Barty. He is yelling for every time he has watched him obsess over the two. “I meant really, what are you so afraid of?”

Barty grabs Evan by the tie, and for a moment he is prepared to get punched, but the hit never comes. Instead he feels Barty pull him in, connecting their lips so briefly that Evan wonders if it ever truly happened. 

[theprongspotter]

24 Prompts til Christmas: Day 13

“Santa Paws” (Rosekiller)

Every Christmas, Barty and Evan visit their local animal shelter to donate money. This money covers adoption fees so more animals get homes. This tradition started after they adopted their first cat from there and realized that many of the animals are not getting homes.

However, on the way out, Evan spots a mutt laying quietly in his kennel. “Wait, babe, I want to take a look at him.”

They get an employee to let Evan in the kennel with him. The dog stares at him from his spot on the floor as Evan crouches down and sticks out a hand. It takes a few minutes, but the dog slowly creeps toward his open hand. After realizing that he’s not a threat, the dog licks his hand and his tail starts to wag.

“Barty, look at him!” Evan smiles, scratching behind the dogs ear. “We have to get him! He loves me, Barty, we’re meant to be.”

“I don’t know, Ev, we already have five cats. I’m not sure that adopting another animal is a good idea,” Barty tells his husband. He didn’t even want the cats in the first place. Well, he says he didn’t, but Evan has definitely caught him cuddling up with them on the couch.

But Evan is no longer listening. He smacks a kiss on the dogs head and coos. “I’ll call you Comet. You’re such a good boy, sweetie. Come on, love, you’re coming home with us.”

“Evan—“ Barty starts. Evan finally looks up and opens the kennel door for Barty to come in. Comet barks and jumps up on the man. “Oh, uh… hi, buddy.” He reaches down and scratches the Comet’s head. “Evan, you’re lucky I love you.” He wraps an arm around his husband.

“Yeah, yeah.”

[honeybcj]

hi!!! rosekiller and 66 for the drabble ask game <3

hello!!! oh this one is very exciting. to me. a little rosekiller + “The only thing I want is you.” this is very cute and fluffy which i don’t think we get to see a lot of when it comes to these two silly guys…anyway here we go! (also i got really carried away with this one and far too excited so it’s definitely longer than i thought i’d make it so sorry? or not?)

“—and I actually got to sit in with the hygienist. Holding tools and everything. Properly looking into someone’s mouth. Fucking teeth,” and a softer, “teeth.” Eyes widening from sheer excitement. “Which, by the way, lovely teeth. Very well taken care of, but like—give me gross. Give me terrible, terrible teeth. I want to fix.”

It goes without explicitly saying, Evan has had the absolute time of his life. And as Barty sits beside him, a joint lazily perched between his fingertips, he can’t help but be mesmerized by the boy beside him. Has been for years, and somehow, with each passing day, the fondness and love never waver.

There’s probably something in there about being inexplicable soulmates. All romantic and lovey dovey. Had Evan not become a constant in his life—had Barty not mustered up enough courage to outright confess to Evan these bottled up feelings—Barty wouldn’t be half the man he is now.

Maybe that’s a stretch, but there is some truth in the matter.

Regardless, Barty’s heart beats steady, thrumming away to the rise and fall of Evan’s tone—bouncing carelessly in a fashion so unlike the deadly monotonous cadence of his every day inflection. The joint stays hesitant in his fingers, remaining unlit. He can’t bear to deviate a single ounce of his attention from the extraordinary tales of Evan’s experience in his dentistry clinical.

Makes all the more sense why Barty came back from having his wisdom teeth removed, only for Evan to turn his beloved teeth into a fashion statement of the goddamn century. (They have matching teeth necklaces now, thank you very much.)

There’s that point where water is boiling, the temperature rising gradually, when the bubbles start to go, not fully boiling but almost there. A gentle simmer of bubbles—that’s where Barty’s at. Until he isn’t because the temperature has risen—the fondness and adoration and love have grown. The words tumble out before he has any idea what he is doing.

Although sudden, they speak the truth.

“Marry me.”

Not a question, a statement.

“—there was blood, and—” Evan stops mid-sentence, blinking slowly at Barty. The tips of Barty’s ears are burning under the scrutiny. “Barty, did you just—”

“Yeah,” Barty murmurs, nodding once, slowly.

Evan blinks once more, lips pressed in a firm line. Eyes dead as ever. But there it is—the little twitch of his lip, threatening to tug up at the corner. Oh, the wolfish grin that takes form on Barty’s mouth. He got it.

Evan is shaking his head fondly, ghostly expression unwavering. Barty slips in a, “The only thing I want is you.”

“Huh,” Evan chuckles, the corners of his mouth finally curving up into one of those delicate smiles, specially reserved for those moments with none other than Barty Crouch Jr.

How he got so lucky? No fucking idea.

Barty reaches out, cupping Evan’s jaw in his hand and tugs. Evan’s right there, not even blinking at the sudden movement. If anything, there’s only a bit of a flicker in his eye. Something for Barty to keep in his pocket for later.

Full lips, right there. Faint freckles across the bridge of his nose, littered across the curve of his cheekbones. He moves quickly, Barty does, swooping in to steal a kiss, but halting right as there lips brush. Taking a moment to steal the breath right out of Evan. Cocks his head slightly, taunting the other boy.

“Didn’t get an answer now did I, sweetheart?” Barty teases, dropping his voice.

“Fucking idiot,” Evan hisses, smacking him across the side of the head. Barty barely has a chance to get out a dramatic ouch before Evan fists his hair and pulls him in for a searing kiss.

It’s all love. Two lovers, hands pulling apart the flesh of a pomegranate. Feeding each other seeds as the juice drips down their wrist like some bloody, foolish love. Rooted in devotion, breeching obsession. All-consuming until their bellies are full with the sweetest nectar. Taking turns, grabbing arms to glide a slow tongue along the dried, sticky rivulets of juice trickling down skin. Lapping, licking, digging until there’s nothing but the taste of bare flesh, their soulmate on their tongue.

Sometime, in the middle of their tongues dancing and teeth snipping, Evan gave his answer, “Of course it’s a fucking yes.”

[nikholascrow]

shower thoughts - word count: 423 - pre rosekiller fluff

Barty sat fully clothed in the bathtub, the loud sounds of the overhead shower soaking his clothes and trying and failing to drown out his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how he’d expected this time to be any different. It was always the same. He really should give up on this whole love thing.

The shower shut off abruptly startling Barty out of his thoughts and unseeing stare. Evan plopped himself down on the floor next to the bathtub two containers of ice cream held in one arm and two spoons in hand, he used his free hand to hold one of the ice cream tubs and a spoon out to Barty.

“rough night?” Evan’s tone was casual, conversational, not demanding for Barty to tell him everything just giving him the option.

Barty took a few bites of his ice cream, strawberry, his favorite, before he spoke. “he dumped me” he stabbed his ice cream a little agressively with his spoon “said I was ‘too much’ and he ‘didn’t have the energy to deal with me’ whatever that means.”

Evan didn’t say anything just nodded softly so Barty continued

“The asshole didn’t even have the decency to do it somewhere private. He did it right there in the restaurant and left me with the bill.” Barty scowled at his knees pulling them up closer to his chest as he picked at the rips in his jeans.

Evan frowned at that “Bitch.”

“I know!! and he had audacity to keep my fucking hoodie!” Barty stabbed aggressively at his ice cream again

“I’m pretty sure that was my hoodie actually-“

Barty snorted “that hoodie stopped being yours the second you left it in my room”

Evan laughed, it was sweet and soft and for a while Barty laughed too. they both trailed off after a few minutes and the bathroom was quiet again

“I really thought he liked me this time” Barty whispered, dropping his head onto Evan’s shoulder, his still wet hair soaking Evan’s shirt Evan didn’t seem to mind. He just reached over and rubbed Barty’s back. Silence fell again but it was comforting this time.

“wanna go order a pizza, watch old disney movies and talk shit about him till you feel better?”

Barty laughed “hell yes”

And as they curled up on the couch in their shared apartment, the scent of one of Evan’s hoodies and Evan’s mint chocolate chip breath filling his nose. Barty thought maybe he would be okay because he was never too much for Evan, Evan always stayed.

[sixlane]

tricks up sleeves and all that

rosekiller microfic | 1,180 words | magician Barty, single dad Evan

The first thing Evan thought when his daughter told him she wanted a magician at her birthday party was how did I raise a child who enjoys close-up magic? It wouldn’t have been his first choice, probably wouldn’t have even been his last. He would’ve gone with something classier, more elegant, like a tea party or a day at the museum. Something to live up to the extravagance of previous years. Sure, Eleanor is only seven but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the finer things. 

So, in between meetings and phone calls, Evan researched children’s birthday party magicians, and as you’d expect, not much was living up to his standards. After days of sifting through resumes and background checks, he was eventually able to find a well-designed website with good reviews and speak to a representative who promised to send their best.

This is why Evan is so confused when he opens his front door to find a tall, lanky man in ripped jeans and a worn out t-shirt, his look complete with ruffled hair, an eyebrow piercing, and excessive amounts of tattoos. 

“You must have the wrong house,” Evan says. He thinks he should probably close the door but something about this man is intriguing. He wants to look for just a second longer.

The man leans back to check the address beside the door. “You’re Mr. Rosier, right? I’m here for the birthday party. I’m Barty, the magician.” 

Evan raises a brow. “You don’t look like a magician.”

“Were you expecting a full tuxedo? It’s like 95 degrees out.” A tilted grin spreads over his face, showing off a pointy canine. “Here let me show you.” Before Evan can back away, Barty is reaching behind his ear and producing a shiny quarter, flipping it between his fingers confidently. “Ta da.”

“That’s hardly magic,” Evan says, crossing his arms. He better get a full refund if this is the best they had.

“No, you’re right. That’s just the decoy.” He raises his left hand, and between his thumb and pointer finger he holds Evan’s watch, which had previously been secured to his wrist.

Evan’s mouth drops open slightly. He hadn’t even felt it. “That’s not magic either, that is literally stealing.” He snatches the watch back, putting it on.

“It’s the art of misdirection,” Barty explains. “I do a dumb coin trick, and while you’re paying attention to that, I do something more impressive. It’s like, the basis of all magic.”

Evan doesn’t even know what to say. This man has just pickpocketed him on his own front porch and now he wants Evan to let him into his house? 

At the same time Evan is getting ready to slam the door in Barty’s face, Eleanor appears at his hip, smile wider than a mile across her face.

“Is this the magician, Dad?” she asks, tugging at his shirt while she bounces up and down.

“You must be Eleanor,” Barty says, squatting down so they’re at eye level. He’s performing now, Evan can tell. He lights up and his smugness from before is washed away. “Would you like to pick a card?” 

Eleanor nods enthusiastically.

Barty pulls a deck out of his back pocket and starts shuffling. Evan watches the way his fingers move deftly around the cards. Bending and flipping them expertly before fanning them out in front of her.

“Okay, go ahead. But don’t tell me what your card is, just show it to your dad and put it back anywhere in the deck.”

Eleanor does as instructed and shows Evan the card, ace of hearts, before sliding it back in.

“Thanks Eleanor, that’s great.” He starts shuffling the cards again, adding in flourishes here and there. Evan watches intently, trying to track his every move, see where he might be switching cards out or taking a peek, but he moves too quickly for Evan to stay on top of everything. “Now Ellie, can I call you Ellie?” Eleanor giggles and nods her head. “Your dad here,” he tilts his head up at Evan, “has already seen me do a trick similar to this, but I think I can put a new spin on it, what do you say?” 

Eleanor looks up at Evan, affronted. “Dad! You’ve been playing with the magician without me?”

Evan hears Barty try to stifle a laugh and feels the beginning of a tension headache spreading behind his eyes. “I was just making sure he was up to our standards,” he grits out.

“Don’t worry Ellie, your dad was just doing his due diligence.” Eleanor looks appeased and waves her hand in a motion that tells Barty to continue. He does one last shuffle and then reaches behind Eleanor’s ear. When he pulls back, he has the ace of spades in between his pointer and middle fingers. “So Ellie, was this your card?” 

She looks confused and a little disappointed. Evan holds himself back from kicking Barty directly in the face. “Um… close,” she says. “Mine had hearts on it.”

Barty looks at the card. “Huh. You know, sometimes the cards don’t always do what we want them to so we have to shake some sense into them. He starts waving the card quickly back and forth. When it comes to a stop, Barty holds the ace of hearts where the ace of spades had previously been. He smiles in triumph. Evan still kind of wants to kick him in the face.

Eleanor lets out an excited squeal and rushes forward to tackle Barty into a hug. “Can we keep him, Dad?” she screams directly in Barty’s ear. He doesn’t even flinch.

Evan lets out a resigned sigh. He’s really never been able to deny Eleanor anything, so he steps to the side, opening the door wider, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Of course Eleanor. Go gather your friends in the living room. Barty will be right in.” He places a hand on her head as she runs by.

Barty stands up and straightens his pants out, sliding the deck back into his pocket. “Good enough?” he asks, shrugging a shoulder.

Evan scrutinizes him for a second, running his eyes over every inch of the man. The line of his cheekbone, the curve of his neck, the way his thumb rubs a circle into the side of his pointer finger. There’s something about him. Evan hasn’t heard Eleanor scream that loud since Pandora got her a bug collection kit for Christmas last year. 

“I want you to know that I keep a detailed inventory of everything in my home, so if you steal something I will find out, and you won't be happy about the consequences.”

Barty smiles, something mischievous glinting in his eye. “We’ll see about that,” he says brushing past Evan to make his way into the living room. Evan closes the door behind him. Right before Barty turns the corner, he throws something over his shoulder. Without thinking, Evan catches it. His wallet. With the ace of hearts sticking mockingly out of the top.

[jamespottersmixtape]

rosekiller microfic: goldilocks 1,632 words

a bit of soft rosekiller!! this is inspired by @myrows rosekiller art which you can find here! it made me want to weep a little when I first saw it, so naturally I had to write something haha :) ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and it's by no means perfect but enjoy!! <3

Barty has always cherished quiet nights at Hogwarts.

When the chatter in the halls finally dies down enough for his thoughts to come back to him and homework has been carelessly tossed aside to save for tomorrow.

There’s a sense of serenity to it all that Barty rarely finds elsewhere. A break that he craves most at the end of a particularly stressful day.

Sixth year courses have been—to put it lightly, beating his ass—no matter how well he does. Today, it had taken him ten tries to get the nonverbal spell to work in Transfiguration. Ten.

Usually Barty needs no more than six tries for complicated spells, less than that for complex potions. Disregarding that he still did it faster than over half the class, now he’s just fucking tired.

He groans and shoves his schoolbag off the bed, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud, then flops backwards dramatically onto his pillows. The dorm room is dim, save for a few small candles on his bedside table. Cloaked in various shadows that dance around the room from the flickering flame.

Barty closes his eyes, taking a spare second to just breathe. There’s the soft white noise of the shower running in the background—Evan is taking forever, as usual—and sometimes Barty imagines he can hear the push and pull of the black lake against their walls. Lack of windows be damned.

It isn’t long before the water shuts off, and Barty feels the smallest smile tug at the corners of his mouth. It’s just the two of them for now, Regulus off doing god knows what at this hour. So naturally, a lot of built up restraint is needed for Barty not to rip open the bathroom door. To go and take in the sight of a freshly showered Evan and gather him in his arms before he can be stopped.

He’s been in there for less than thirty minutes but fuck it, Barty misses him.

Grumbling, he goes to change into the first clothes he can find. Settling for some years old joggers and a loose tank top, the soft fabric already making him drowsy.

The bathroom door creaks open and his head snaps up, immediately catching Evan’s eye. Barty really can’t help it when his heart skips a beat.

Evan raises his eyebrows, chuckling when Barty takes no subtlety in checking him out. His hair is dry, most likely done by magic. A thin blue t-shirt hangs off his shorter frame and each step taken towards Barty casts golden shadows over his skin.

Looking like everything warm and comfortable; the smell of his shampoo in the air so familiar that it hurts.

Barty’s smirk is wicked when he tugs Evan by his shirt into a light kiss. He makes a startled noise but melts into Barty’s touch regardless, fingers cupping his chin. The kiss is short but effective in making Barty’s head go all fuzzy.

“What happened to hello?” Evan asks when they pull apart—though not very far—now standing chest to chest. Evan’s bare feet fit in between his socked ones.

 Barty makes sure to slather his words in extra charm, grinning. “Hello, gorgeous.” 

“Wow, smooth talker,” Evan deadpans.

“You know you love it, Goldilocks.”

Barty takes a blonde strand between two fingers, tugging lightly at the end and earning him a deep scowl.

“I told you that nickname is stupid.” Evan rolls his eyes but Barty catches the blush high on his cheekbones. A light dusting of pinks and reds that work to compliment his freckles. Barty pokes him on one cheek.

“And I told you I don’t care.”

“Brat.”

Barty hums noncommittally, threading their fingers together. Warmth settles in his chest from the steady weight of Evan’s hand.

He leads Evan past the emerald green curtains of his bed and down onto the soft mattress. It’s a routine they’ve created over the last few months, and every time Barty wraps the covers around them it becomes harder and harder to let Evan slip back into his own bed. Something about having him in his arms means a night free of restless tossing and turning.

They lie facing each other for a few minutes, minimal space between them and their heads resting on one pillow. Quiet voices and even quieter laughs, a sacred bubble that neither of them dare to pop.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Barty laughs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You told Cresswell what?”

Evan frowns, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I told him…that if he feels the need to keep staring at you in class then maybe I should tape his fucking eyes open. You know, that way he wouldn’t miss it when I inevitably snog you right in front of him.”

“Evan!” Barty can’t help it, his laugh is loud when it bursts from his chest.

“Well, maybe I left out that last bit…”

It takes him a minute before his laughter dies down, the quiet settling back in. “You jealous?” Barty teases, raising an eyebrow.

Evan purses his lips. “No.”

Barty stares at him knowingly.

Silence.

Evan averts his eyes.

“Mhm sure, come here.”

He drags Evan in by his waist, the pair of them fumbling around until Evan’s head relaxes in the crook of Barty’s neck and his forearm rests over his chest. Their sides pressed together, Barty smiles—fully content now.

Wordlessly, Barty ghosts his hand over the warm skin, relishing in the way Evan shivers from the cold metal of the ring on his middle finger.

There’s silence for a few minutes. Evan’s hair brushes the side of his face and his warm breath fans across his chest, their hearts only slightly out of sync as they beat so close together.

It’s a lot for Barty to take in sometimes—the whole idea of them. Having someone so delicate, yet so utterly untouchable, be his. If anyone took the time to ask him, though, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Barty knows Evan’s eyes are closed, can see the shadow of his eyelashes. He takes the opportunity to trace over his freckles; a messy constellation that follows the high points of his cheeks, crosses sporadically over the bridge of his nose.

Evan scrunches his face up, which should not be so endearing. “That tickles.”

Barty turns his head, placing the quickest of kisses atop of Evan’s forehead, debating whether or not he should just give in and lick the side of his face. Then ultimately deciding against it—Evan did just take a shower—he’ll be nice for once.

“I wasn’t jealous. I don’t get jealous,” Evan mumbles, his voice lulled and tired sounding.

“Of course not, Ev.” Barty resists rolling his eyes, Evan can’t see his face anyway. 

“Besides,” Barty continues, “If you were jealous, I don’t mind you threatening people for me…it’s kinda hot.”

Evan smacks him lightly across the chest, but snuggles deeper against his shoulder. Which definitely does not do a weird flippy thing to Barty’s stomach. Nope, not at all.

“Mm okay,” Evan yawns. Which, Barty can’t blame him. Exhaustion is slowly taking over his body the longer they lie here. At this point all he wants to do is blow out the candles and fall asleep. Keep Evan next to him the whole night.

“Hey Goldilocks.”

“Mhm…” Evan must be too tired to even rebuke the nickname.

“Reg is going to freak out if he finds you here in my bed.”

Evan huffs, not very different from a petulant child. He makes no move to get up or even open his eyes. “I don’t care.”

This time Barty can’t hold back his yawn. He shuts his eyes and allows his body to sink further into the bed. Further into Evan. “Maybe we can tell Potter how madly in love with him Reg is. Then they can finally leave us alone.”

“Payback,” Evan snorts.

They both fall asleep without really meaning to. Tangled limbs beneath the covers and hands that aren’t inclined to let go. As his mind quiets down, something in Barty feels settled. A puzzle piece slotting into place after searching and searching for the edge that matches. Evan tends to have that effect on him, he’s come to notice.

All is quiet for a while, the whole school in a coinciding state of slumber. A time when portraits snore softly and only ghosts roam the halls, the usual lively presence of magic at bay for now.

But not even thirty minutes later they’re awoken with a loud thud and a significantly darker room—Barty had blown the candles out after all—just in case.

“Lumos,” someone whispers.

Regulus stands at the end of Barty’s bed, hands on his hips and a look of annoyance on his face. His wand is now lit and shining far too bright for Barty’s liking.

“What the fuck, Reg?” he asks groggily. Evan groans beside him and tries to hide his face.

“Not my fault I tripped over your fucking books, Barty,” Regulus hisses. “And you guys are gross. You said no PDA in the dorm.”

Barty squints and gestures for him to lower his wand. Regulus does so slowly. “Yeah, well I’m a fucking liar. Let us sleep.”

It’s with a lot of grumbling and a sharp glare that Regulus turns and stalks to his side of the room. When he shuts himself in the bathroom Barty reaches for his own wand and spells his curtains closed.

He has Evan back in his arms in no time, steady and real and here. Absolutely not going anywhere, if Barty has a say in it. His fingers resume their path over his arm, tracing nonsensical shapes that neither can decipher. Before they both drift off again a thought pops into Barty’s head.

“We are definitely getting him back for this.”

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Nineteen - Prompt: Breakfast @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 549 words

TW: mention of NSFW acts & piercings

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Evan pushed his mother’s version of a full English around his plate. The eggs were runny and the sausage looked a little too pink for his taste. She was a halfway decent cook when she didn’t have her face pressed into a romance novel.

He didn’t know why the hulking neon blue “barbarians” on the cover were more interesting than breakfast, but he could see the appeal in a broad sense of the term. Evan wouldn’t mind taking one on while draped over the sofa or pounding what appeared to be a pretty damn nice arse. Even if it was blue.

“Stop playing with your food,” she chastised, jabbing his wrist with her fork.

“Sorry.”

Evan rubbed his wrist automatically. It didn’t really hurt. If Pandora had done it, the vicious little cunt would have drawn blood. She left four days ago and he already missed her. A weekend alone was excruciating.

He knew he was more distracted than usual. Unsurprising considering how boldly his ex had announced to the entirety of his workplace on Friday that he wanted his dick pierced. It was for his benefit, Evan was sure, but the audacity of it still left him floundering a bit.

Barty was the epitome of audacity in human form, so it wasn’t that he was shocked by the publicity of the announcement as much as it was the sheepish look on Barty’s face afterwards. He couldn’t care less that a half-dozen strangers heard him ask to have his dick impaled multiple times, but he was oddly concerned that someone who had not only seen, but tasted his dick overheard it. Evan couldn’t account for the flush on Barty’s cheeks when he met his gaze.

What the fuck does that mean? Is he doing this for my attention?

Opting for a Jacob’s ladder seemed a bit drastic, but then again…it was Barty, and he was desperate. Evan winced when he realised that he was picturing Barty’s dick again. Perhaps that was the intention, to place that picture firmly into Evan’s head.

Well played, arsehole. Well played.

By the time he reached The Ink Spot that afternoon, Evan was struggling to concentrate on anything other than Barty’s dick. He was in for a rough afternoon if he couldn’t erase – or at least blur – it from his mind. As it was, he’d had to wank in the shower twice just to take the edge off.

Not a great sign.

Emmeline spotted his scowl the moment he stepped through the door. She paused her conversation with a customer and waved him over. “What’s with this face, mate? Did someone kick your puppy?”

“He keeps this up, I’m going to kick my puppy,” he grumbled.

She huffed a laugh and returned her attention to the customer. “A metaphorical puppy, not a real one.”

“He’s plenty real, I assure you.”

“Evan, stop scaring the customers,” she chastised goodnaturedly before clarifying for the customer’s sake. “His ex.”

That’s all he is now. An “ex-boyfriend,” nothing more.

The mantra he’d started last week was a solid one, in theory. In practice, it wasn’t particularly effective considering he’d spent the entire weekend obsessing about him. Or rather, about his dick. A dick that his boss was about to be up close and personal with.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Next Part>>>

[thedvilsinthedetails]

rosekiller microfic

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL ACE DAY YAYAYAY

here enjoy a rosekiller microfic [1066 words so idk how micro it really is but shhhh] with ace Evan and Barty ‘no homo but I think I love you’ Crouch Jr [I love them so much]

“Truth or dare?”

“Aw come on you guys know me, dare obviously.”

Barty grinned at the circle of his friends sat cross legged all around him.

“Mmm I’ve got one.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow challengingly, everyone knew Regulus gave out the most brutal dares. Barty wasn’t phased though, it was almost impossible to make Barty embarrassed honestly, outwardly at least. Last time he’d taken a dare from Regulus he’d gone around school in bright pink robes for the next week. 

“Bring it on Reggie.”

“I dare you to make out with Evan till I stop you.”

Barty scrunched his nose.

“Oh is that it?”

“Uh rude.”

Evan said.

Barty turned to him quickly, placing a hand on his best friend’s cheek.

“Don’t be like that Goldilocks you know I’m hopelessly in love with you. I just meant Reg usually gives…more dramatic dares.”

“Yeah whatever prick. And who says I wanna make out with this dickhead anyway. It’s Bee’s dare not mine.”

“Aw come on Rosie don’t you think I’m pretty.”

Barty batted his eyes and pretended to fan himself, Evan shoved him to the ground with a laugh. Evan had one of the prettiest laughs Barty had ever seen. He wasn’t gay or anything but the way Evan’s halo of blonde curls bounced up and down gently made his stomach flip. Barty sort of wanted to reach out and run a hand through those curls actually, they looked soft. Evan looked soft, in a big purple hoodie and smooth warm skin and red lips currently stretched out in a big smile that just made his whole face light up. Barty found himself joining in. Evan pulled him up off the wooden floor and ran a hand through Barty’s hair, messing it up affectionately.

“Fine, I guess I’ll do it.”

Barty turned, facing Evan properly and lifting a hand to his cheek as Evan pulled him in by the collar. They were so close now, hesitating just before their lips pressed and all Barty could think was EvanEvanEvan. 

He could smell him, the conditioner he used softly scented of toffee and pears.

He could feel his breath warm and tickling against his skin.

“Come on get on with it. 

Regulus huffed. And suddenly they were meeting in the middle and Evan’s lips were pressed against him and he tasted better than Barty could ever have imagined and and-wow. This was nice. This was lovely. Barty’s hands wandered to Evan’s hair, fingers running through it like he’d imagined only moments ago. But it was so much better than he’d imagined. Evan was so. And it was wonderful. And the way Evan had his arms wrapped around Barty’s waist, pulling him closer made the butterflies in his stomach just soar. He wanted to stay like this forever, just utterly surrounded by Evan. He loved this. He loved- Oh. Oh. 

Oh that’s what this was. 

And it all made sense suddenly.

Evan pulled back panting for a moment and Barty tried to bite back the smile he could feel forming on his face as he saw Evan’s kiss bitten lips. 

He leaned back in again to keep going but Evan glanced his eyes around and sighed.

“Barty.”

He motioned his hand out and Barty glanced around. The room was empty, the others must have snuck out while he and Evan were- he tried to stifle his smile again as he thought about it. He clearly didn’t manage very well because Evan flicked his arm angrily.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, no I wasn’t laughing I just…had fun.”

Evan glanced up at him eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“Y-you did?”

“Yeah. We could…keep going. Only if you wanted obviously.” Barty mumbled. 

Evan opened his mouth and then shut it again. 

“I- I don’t know if that’s such a good idea Barty.”

Barty felt his world crash down around him. Or it felt something like that at least.

“Yeah. Yeah it was stupid I shouldn’t have- I uh-“

His words felt like lead in his mouth. He was so stupid. So fucking dumb. He-

“Barty.”

Evan’s voice was soft and grounding. Evan’s hand on his shoulder was even more grounding. He looked up at his best friend.

“You good?” Evan asked.

“Yeah. Thanks. I just shouldn’t have said that.”

“Barty…do you like me?”

“I- yeah. A lot actually.”

It felt somehow wonderful and horrifyingly disarming to admit. He squirmed under Evan’s gaze. Vulnerable, as a rule, was not a thing Barty Crouch Jr strived to achieve. 

Evan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh. Oh same. I really…”

Barty’s breath hitched. 

“Be my boyfriend, please.”

He asked voice scratchy and quiet.

Evan paused. He seemed to be having a conversation in his mind, eyebrows furrowing. Barty reached up and pressed a thumb between his two brows.

“Talk to me.”

Evan sighed softly.

“I can’t give you the things you want in a relationship.”

“Evan the thing I want is you.”

“I know. But I don’t, I hate sex, it just grosses me out and I don’t think I’ll ever want to do it and I know you like it and- and I don’t want you getting bored of just me.”

“How could I ever get bored of just you?” Barty murmured, eyes searching Evan’s face for some kind of plausible answer. Impossible. Because I could never be bored of him.

“Barty there’s no going back if this all blows up in our faces.”

Evan warned but Barty could feel the way his face had edged closer.

“Evan there already is no going back. Besides I never want to. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And with that they kissed again. And when they broke apart again it was because Barty couldn’t stop grinning. Foreheads pressed together they breathed gently.

“So will you be my boyfriend?”

Barty asked with a chuckle.

Evan mussed up his hair again.

“What do you think you cunt?”

“Mmm I think your insults won’t work anymore now that I know how irresistible you find me.”

Evan groaned as Barty tugged him up to standing.

“I take it all back, I hate you.”

Barty laughed, pulling Evan to his bed. 

They fell asleep there, cuddling and whispering soft words and gentle laughter till Regulus found them in the morning, curled up against each other with soft smiles.

“Fucking FINALLY!”

Barty and Evan just laughed. 

[donotwishonme]

september 29: beg - 531 words - @rosekiller-microfic

Today Barty has his second date with Evan. Their first date was an impromptu cup of coffee, because Evan’s bus was cancelled. Barty had met with Regulus for lunch that day, where Regulus had spotted Evan halfway through their meal and invited him to join them. They knew each other from when they were little and went to the same school until Evan’s parents got a divorce and he moved away with his mom. They had found each other again and had met up a few times, but it had been a while since they’d seen each other.

Barty let them catch up and was hanging on to every word Evan had to say. Barty is not one to shut up, but he was so in awe with Evan. The way he looks, the way he moves, the way he talks. He could see Regulus looking at him and smirking, having known him long enough to know exactly what is going through Barty’s head at any moment.

When they were done with lunch Barty and Evan went one way and Regulus the other. While walking they said nothing until Evan spoke up, “Uhm, I don’t know if you have the time, but my bus is cancelled, how about a cup of coffee?” Barty had agreed immediately, wanting to spend as much time as possible with him. During their coffee they exchanged numbers with a promise to see each other as soon as possible.

And now a little over a week later the time was finally here. Evan had agreed to come over to Barty’s apartment. When Evan texted him he was at his building Barty ran down the stairs so fast he almost fell. To say he was excited for their date was an understatement. After letting him into the building he dragged Evan up the stairs and into his kitchen. Here the ingredients and equipment are laid out and ready to be used.

“Pasta? With just lemons? I’ve never heard of that,” Evan said when looking at the kitchen counter. 

“Just wait till you taste it,” Barty responded. “One bite and you’ll beg me for the recipe.” Evan shook his head as Barty handed him the cheese and the grater while he went to work with the rest of the ingredients.

When the pasta is done boiling and mixed with the sauce and put on the table Barty turns around to look at Evan who has already taken a seat. “Wine?,” he asks simply. Evan nods and Barty goes to grab the wine and the glasses.

After they ate their pasta, which did tasty insanely good, they continued their conversation and wine drinking on the couch. After hours of easy conversation, some flirting and the space between them becoming less and less Evan grabs his phone. He announces how late it is and that he probably should go home, but does not make a move to get up and actually leave.

“Guess what?” Evan says looking up from his phone with a smirk and moves closer to Barty, their lips only a few inches apart. “My bus is cancelled.” 

“What a shame,” Barty whispers before closing the space between them.

[ensbunny]

Barty and Evan do the dishes (641 words)

“I’m done talking about this,” Barty grunted, stalking into the kitchen, hands itching to do something.

“Well, I’m not,” Evan decided, following closely after him.

He spotted the pile of dishes he’d been avoiding for the past couple of days, rushing for the sponge under the sink. He plugged one side of the sink, sorting out the dirty dishes into stacks.

“You can’t just clean to avoid me,” He complained, stamping his palms into his eyes.

He glanced at his husband that he was fuming at and slid one of his hands up to cradle his cheek, “Darling, do you think you could put on a record? I hate working in silence.”

His eyes burned with unspoken irritation, but he tangled their fingers together anyway, “Fine.”

“You’re a marvel,” He smiled sweetly, kissing the ring on Evan’s finger.

He grumbled as he walked off to the record player, mostly about how stupid Barty was being— which he wasn’t. They’d only been married a few months, but living together had always been a struggle. One tiny inconvenience led to another and another and another. He was too stubborn to let them go and way too stubborn to bring them up, and Evan never knew when to stop pushing.

It wasn’t long before music drifted in from the hallway, and he came back in with that determined look on his face. Oh lord.

They stood next to each other, tension thick like smog in the air. Neither one of them looked at each other or said a word, letting the music play over their scrubbing. Evan was always so careless with his products. No, you can’t throw away toothpaste when there’s still some left in the tube. He washed each insult that came to his mind away with the soapy water swirling down the drain.

“I saw Pandora today,” Evan bit out, stacking a plate on the drying rack.

He shut his eyes, pausing everything for the anger that surged through him. “Oh yeah?”

“She invited us over for dinner tomorrow.”

“You didn’t think to ask me before you said yes?” He threw the sponge in the sink, imagining it was his stupid skull.

“If you’d let me finish,” He interrupted, pointedly.

He zipped his mouth shut, reluctantly, nodding for him to continue.

“You always forget to put things in the calendar,” He restarted, a frown twisted on his face, “Which is another thing, but whatever— I told her I’d text her after we talked about it.”

When Barty didn’t answer, he scoffed, “So? Are we going or not?”

“You can go, I’ll just visit Pete or something,” He mumbled, going back to the dishes.

A minute passed while he continued to scrub his frustrations into their kitchenware with Evan burning holes in the back of his head. He refused to lose this argument. Not only because he was right, but because of the principle of it. If he relented and let him waste all their products, they’d be dead broke by the end of the year.

He heard a sigh. Evan relenting.

“Crouch,” He said, placing a hand on top of his, pulling it from the sink, and rubbing the valleys in between his knuckles.

“Rosier,” He warned through gritted teeth, though he couldn’t have been more smug.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, love,” He said, moving their hands in a slight sway to the last song on the album. “I can buy you new toothpaste.”

He considered this for a moment, still shaking off annoyance. Evan was smiling at him genuinely, shimmying his shoulders to the music.

“You have to bake me cookies, and cake— and brownies, final offer.”

“I can do that too,” He laughed, pulling him into a dance, dishes forgotten.

[star4daisy]

day 10 - rosekiller - trying on costumes (with a lil twist ofc)

small one shot - 408 words

The man wearing a long white mask continues to advance in his direction with a knife in his hand, he tilts his head dangerously, the open mouth looking like a cruel smile on his face. "Please." Evan whimpers, putting his hands up in an attempt to beg for mercy. He keeps retreating as the figure slowly advances in his direction, toying with the knife in their fingertips with practised ease. "I'll do anything you want," he promises. "Just don't kill me." Evan lets out a loud yelp when his back hits the wall, his heartbeat increasing in fear and anticipation. The man takes the mask one-handed as soon as he comes closer and Evan's breath catches on his chest when he meets wicked forest green eyes. "Anything?" He taunts. Evan nods dumbly, his brain trying to connect the menacing figure that had been approaching him with the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. "Then I guess I want you to buy me this fantasy," his boyfriend smiled at him boyishly. "Don't you think I make for a hot Ghostface?" Fuck. Evan was so screwed. "The hottest," he agreed. "Were you scared, babe?" Barty teased him, mockingly caressing his chin. "I told you I wanted to surprise you." Evan pushed him away playfully. "As if. I knew it was you the whole time." Barty laughed. "Uhum, I'mma pretend I believe you." Evan was about to pull him down for a kiss, after all, Barty did look good in his Halloween fantasy when he noticed why he had previously thought this wasn't a joke. "Is that a real knife?" He asked in disbelief. Barty shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Yep, gotta make it believable." Evan's mouth dropped open. "You've gotta be kidding me." But again what should he have expected from Barty? This was exactly the type of shit he would pull. "What? Do you think it's too much?" He frowned as he raised the knife to eye level and inspected it to see what was wrong with it. Evan laughed. "Nope. You should hold it while we walk to Reg's house for the party, I'm sure you'll scare everyone." Barty seemed pleased by that, nothing excited him more than fucking with other people. What he didn't know was that Evan was already planning his revenge. Perhaps a fake cop would appear just in time to catch Barty with an actual weapon walking after kids on Halloween.