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@devoted-carrow
I’d fallen in love with her because I was the ultimate me with her. Loving her made me superhuman, it made me feel alive. At her easiest, she was hard, because her brain was always working, working, working.
Gillian Flynn (via quotemadness)
I know everyone - another one who’s shocked and needs to spill some more tear shedding emotions! Bear with me...
I’m agreeing with all of you on Beth, FN and have to say: It was a fucking great year! I’ve had so much fun and the only thing left to do is this:
I just want to give you all my undying love and respect. We’ve come so far and I’ve been away, returned, had troubles and came here and it was just... there‘s always been a huge amount of love between all of the members! I was glad to be here again and I’m the kind of person who’s accustomed to staying until the very end. So much has happened for this character and every other character I have/had that I’m willing to continue with Amycus and everyone who’s willing to have him. I’ll continue using the tag system... and if anyone wants to chat me up for Antonin, or Sergej, I’ll reopen them both for the AU, just message me if you’d like a thread! I’m also going to write all of those characters some short biographies that fit them.
We were all brought up to want things and maybe the world isn’t big enough for all that wanting. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.
John Updike (via quotemadness)
It’s a jarring moment between seeing someone he thinks he might recognize- (a moment of sparking adrenaline, there’s something bitter clinging in the air and his fingers are twitching towards the inside of his sleeve, breath stilling in his throat)- and then suddenly he’s being crowded into and kissed by the stranger stumbling out of the alley.
He stiffens for all of a moment, torn between a strange familiarity and the sheer danger screaming at him- but it’s the blonde hair and the eyes that give it away, the feeling of lips against his that he remembers- and when the connection clicks, the tension bleeds away from his shoulders almost without him meaning to.
But that was fine- wasn’t this what he’d come out here for in the first place?
A moment later, indecision going out of the window, and he’s kissing back- tentative at first, before he forces the apprehension away and grows bolder, hands reaching up to grasp at the hem of Amycus’ jacket, drawing him in closer. He doesn’t know how or why Amycus is here now- doesn’t even want to, he can smell the blood in the air and it’s a metallic smell, drying musky and bitter beneath the sickly-sweet- and yet it only makes the want that’s been buried in him all day flicker and flare up, insidious in the taste it leaves in Regulus’ mouth, in the bitter and honey-sweet he can taste on Amycus’ tongue. It’s unavoidable maybe- all of this- it’s why he’s even out at this time of night, searching for a shady bar or the corner of some alleyway.
He presses his body up against the other man, searching for every inch of skin he can touch, every molecule of heat he can reach- he’s so aware of the heat suddenly, so aware of the cold around them.
A moment later- or maybe a minute- and it’s the dizziness that makes him pull away, the dizziness that makes him realize he hasn’t been breathing at all except for the air in Amycus’ mouth, and he takes a gulp of the chill air, almost flinches when it goes down his lungs freezing. “I- wall,” he mutters, an invitation or an order- potentially both- and he’s still light-headed, not quite remembering what else he should say, or how he should phrase the sentence. Already, there’s a shiver of cold on his spine, and he wills it away as he stares at the other man.
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One look at his eyes was all it took to break her. Seeing the need - the pure animal desire - there made her legs weak and she had to use him as her support. “Yes,” she breathed again, her one hand twining with his and running it over her thigh to the hem of her dress, “touch me.” With the last of her sensibilities she sent a prayer for nobody to walk in, then all was lost. Despite his tight hold on her hip, Narcissa managed to rub against his hardness, “Touch me. Take me. Own me.” she whispered as his nips moved over her jaw. He knew just where to touch and what to say to drive her completely mad.
“Now, now, you know that’s now true. It’s not all about the money.” Dorcas shrugged slightly as she gathered the supplies from the drawers that she’d need. She glanced over at him rather shamelessly as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, making his way over towards the stretcher. “See, now you’ve offended me darling. That’s not something you want to do when I’m the one with the sharp tools fixing you up.” Doe teased playfully, as she sat down on a stool in front of the stretcher to take a good look at the wound which by the amount of blood he’d already lost, would need stitches. She gestured for him to sit down, but realized after a moment that he couldn’t, and pulled the tray of supplies and moved to stand in front of him, picking up a couple gauze to try and stop some of the bleeding before she stitched it up. “I didn’t think you were a stripper, but I do question that incredible fighter bit.” She glanced up from the wound, smirking a little up at him to see his reaction.
“You say that every time,” he said with a smirk and a lift of his eyebrow. Of course he usually would have answered with a kiss and an ‘I know’, but he couldn’t bend himself in half to reach her. Plus she was at the other end of the room gathering her tools. He watched her, before lifting his arm out of the way for her. “It’s not like you can stab me, doctor. If I bleed out on your table...” Amycus let the implication of retaliation fall like a brick stone. The Mafia would certainly come and try to investigate, with the added bonus of destroying her reputation even in their circles. She would never ever be able to make as much money as she was right now.
Chuckling mixed with a loud hiss as he felt her wiping at the gaping hole in his side. “So you’re basically questioning me in everything I said,” he answered looking down into her face. A slow smirk came over his lips. “Good. Least you’re not naive enough to believe someone like me. I am good at fighting, it’s just that I prefer to keep some distance from the other party. Didn’t work out tonight... Maybe you should look for some shards in there.” He pressed out as he poked his own wound. “People can get creative when they know they’re on the brink of death. Use everything in their way.”
Evan didn’t understand Carrow, it was true, how it was so easy to provoke him into anger or at least annoyance. That was no way to play the game, not to Evan. The game was about smiling, taking what people said as nothing more than a raindrop in an ocean. The more people understood that they could get under your skin, the weaker that you appeared and Amycus, with his quick temper and illogical arguments (mostly as Evan didn’t take the time to understand them), was one of the weakest men that Evan had ever known. “Aren’t you so smart and witty all of a sudden. It’s such a relief that you don’t have to resort to crude humor. Daddy must be so proud.” Sarcasm dripped off every word he said, his face entirely impassive. “No, I’ve never had a cat. If I want to experience the company of a dumb animal, I just come and find you.”
Amycus, as much as he was a Carrow, hadn’t grown up with a mother or a father per se. There had been foster care for him when he was still too young to remember much, because the kids had suffered of an abuse story by his father’s hands. Years had passed before he’d been brought back into the Carrow household... and he hadn’t ever seen the man as a father. Much less a daddy by any means. It made Evan’s words fall on deaf ears. “Nice to know you think me smart and witty, love. Yeah, old man Carrow is probably having a hard time hiding his pleasure,” he answered just as sarcastic as Rosier himself. “Huh, Rosie, you’re full of surprises, never thought you’d want to put a collar on me and call me your pet. Your mind is such a dark place... At least you know you could have asked me first, before forcing yourself on me.”
“Not in my office,” she murmured in answer to his question about the silk, “definitely tonight.” The promise was one she meant to keep, excitement curling through her whole body at the prospect of being tied down. And his excitement very evident against her lower back. “Oh yes…” the breath left her body in a rush as his touch lowered and she pressed her hips backwards against him. “We shouldn’t - “ but despite her objection she returned his kiss just as hard, nipping and biting at his lips. His words melted her body and turned her mind blank, all thoughts of consequences out the window.
He was winded up like a toy soldier, ready to make his words a reality. Carefully he swallowed her protest down, licking her words from her lips as she looked at him with fire in her eyes and him being the water to douse the flames. Though he didn’t entirely ignore her words. “Now,” he almost panted the words, his pupils dilated as she pushed into him and he could barely hold himself back, tightening his hold on her body to still her and yet he didn’t want her to stop. Her kiss was everything he wanted (and needed), hard, hurting and he loved her for knowing how to make and break him with just her lips, her touch... But he kept his mind in one piece, until he knew. “Tell me now,” he continued, nipping at her lower lip and jawline. “What do you want right now, what do you need?” Because he would act if she so much as wavered for a second. If she hesitated now he would take her here against that bookcase and use her panties instead of the talked about silk.
Al had sensed someone entering, thinking it was Sarah, the idiot she was, so he hadn’t paid them much attention. And while Sarah was in his opinion much more easy on the eye, Amycus was someone he had much more use in seeing over at work. Then again, he was entirely too biased towards women so that was that. “Lovely. You know how much I hate losing money”, he said, sipping in feigned throughtfullness. “But you see, it’s not so much about the money. No, no, it ain’t. It’s mostly about respect. You don’t lie to a man’s face like that, especially a man who pulled you out the gutter and gave you plenty of Mary. It’s plain rude.” Yet as he spoke, the same old charade as usual, he noticed Amycus wincing. “But enough about that. Well done, Amycus. As usual. What’s up with the shoulder, by the way?”
Amyucs himself wouldn’t have minded one of the women to keep them company, but this wasn’t that kind of visit and he wasn’t up to his usual game. Not in the state he was in. It’d take too much out of his pride. “It is,“ he agreed. Nobody should bite the hand that fed and clothed them. Some people should be aware of the risks they took in taking without giving. He wouldn’t do it. Never. He always paid his debts and his respect to the right people. This being Alastair at the moment. Amycus loosened his stance. “I’m glad I could be of assistance,“ he answered. “My shoulder has been... grazed by a lucky swing of the deceased. He didn’t quite like knowing he was a walking dead for quite some time now, so he tried to fight it. Unsuccessfully.“ But bitterly painful. It still stung and he wasn’t sure he hadn’t pulled it again.
Narcissa felt lightheaded. For somebody who had been called cold and prissy, she managed to get worked up quite easily when Amycus was near. For a moment she closed her eyes and allowed the scene he created to play off in her head. “Very…” her voice was husky, lower than usual, “What would you do if I told you that I’m wearing the black lace corset underneath? Just waiting for your touch.” Her hand raised up and into his hair, keeping his lips on the spot they had just grazed underneath her ear, a soft moan leaving her lips. This was not a good idea, Narcissa knew. They were at her work and anybody could walk into her office at any moment - but that just made the thrill so much more… Thrilling.
He loved the thrill of anyone getting in here, he didn’t lock the door and he wouldn’t have if it was any other day. Clearly he didn’t want others to be suspicious of their activities. He breathed against her, his hands tightening in the fabric of her dress, pulling it up a little, his fingernails grazing her through the soft fabric. “I’d ask you if you have a bit of silk to wrap around your wrists, bind them tightly...“ His breath was heavier as he pulled her back with him until his back rested against said bookcase and he pushed her around until he could smash her back into his fron hard once, his hand wandering just that little bit lower on her abdomen. His fingertips barely touching through the fabric... almost curling in. “I’d want to wrap my hands around you, here... and...“ He bit her neck, niping at the back of her throat before he wrapped a hand around it, letting his fingers do the talking as they wandered over her chest underneath her collar to feel said corset and the warmth of her skin. “I’d want you every which way I can until they rush in here and we’ll have to pretend to not do it right underneath their noses. And you’ll leave here with my marks all over you and they’ll know it! I will mark you inside...“ he curled his fingers feathery soft in between her legs. “and out!” He turned his face to claim her lips fiercely.
“I will take that to mean that you accept my acting as your counsel,” he chose to ignore being told to go forth and multiply, though in fewer words. He had a feeling that doing so, and not rising to the bait, would only irritate Amycus further. Admittedly, his thoughts should have been on calming Amycus so that they could convince the magistrate that he was not a danger to society, but that could wait for now.
He produced a rather thick document from his satchel with ‘sign here’ table littering the edges. A Mont Blanc pen followed. He held both out to Amycus. “Sign that. Ignore the fees section - they are to be paid by a mutual associate of ours. All you need to know is that document means that any conversation between us remains confidential. So when I ask you a question, I expect an honest answer. Understood?”
“Now. Would you like to tell me what the police are likely to say happened, and what the charge is?”
Amycus gave him a pointed look in return. Are nuns celibate? But he gritted his teeth, choosing to not get into that kind of argument, because he knew for a fact that some nuns clearly were only playing at being lambs and very well knew what the downstairs was used for. “For God’s sake and by all means...“ He pushed out and leaned against the bars again. Still trying to find a comfortable way to stand, with his hands still bound.
He accepted the pen and the papers, scanning them as to make sure he didn’t just sign off his flat and cars to him. Taking the pen was the easy part. “Mutual associate,“ he repeated and wondered if he should be prepared to work extra hard to pay back the money. Amycus was still scanning the papers Lucius held out to him so he could sign - somehow he’d wriggled his wrists through the metal bars to do so - when he continued conversationally. “Quit it. You want me to be honest with you? Then let’s start at the point where you have the hots for my fiancé.“
He didn’t lift his gaze from the papers until he was finished, noticing the way Lucius was reacting to his words. Though he didn’t linger on it for too long and finally turned his eyes away from him, holding out the pen to the man. “Well, they’ll probably tell you I broke a few noses, some ribs and almost promised someone to try out if his skull was really as thick as his comments were making it out to be.“ Amycus eyes were darker now, as he remembered how tantalizing and promising it had been... an iron pipe lieing too close for his hands to not grab...
“Oh. I was not joking.” He shook his head, pleasantly bemused by Amycus’ reaction.
“Yes, well, I suppose they could have. If you want one of the leading prosecutors to be seen to be rushing to the aid of a criminal - sorry, alleged criminal - be my guest - I shall step out and call her now. Though what that may do for her credibility… I daresay it would be an invitation to pry into her social life, and have her set aside for conflicts of interest, with a disciplinary hearing and dis-barring to follow.” If he sounded bored, it was because procedure did not much interest him. And really, Narcissa’s practising certificate meant little to him beyond that she would likely be upset to lose it, and that might put Alastair in a mood, and Lucius did so prefer it when his most important clients were happy. “But, as I said. Your choice.”
“So you’ve been before the courts before then. Wonderful. Any prior convictions you want to tell me about?”
He wanted to resist rolling his eyes, he really did, but the man had made holding back a bit difficult. So he let go and stopped midway as he counted off everything that was wrong with calling Narcissa to come to his aid instead of Lucius.
A low growl came over his lips and the unmistakeable feeling of wanting to shred this man. Chew him and spit him out, stomp him and cut him to pieces... the images strangely calmed him down, holding his hatred at a simmering level. Never extinguished, not even close, but not as burning hot as it culd have been. “I hate repeating myself, but, shut the fuck up!“ Amycus hissed at him. He knew Amycus wouldn’t so much as put a scratch on Narcissa’s reputation. That she‘d even said yes to him - someone who was only clean on forged papers - was a mystery to him. It had probably more to do with nostalgia, a feeling of two people who knew their darkest secrets and the ability to talk freely. “Know what? After this, you can fuck yourself, Malfoy.“
Still seething he stared the man down, lifting his chin up. “No, I’m not entirely stupid. They had to apologize for the last three arrests I was the innocent bystander of.“ Though I’m thinking of adding murder.
