The Parasite

KIERAN ROWLEY I can't exactly describe how I feel, but it's not quite right, and it leaves me cold.

[ambiguities]

He wasn’t afraid of being left, he was afraid of being forgotten.

my thoughts at 1:13 a.m. (via Ambiguities)

[kieranrowley]

( ✉ → sms ) i just need to vent…

[Kieran] okay then

[Kieran] spill.

[kieranrowley]

( ✉ → sms ) you haven’t watched my snapchat story all day. what are you up to?????

[Kieran] some of us have to work for a living

[Kieran] i’ve been shopping with the bf

[kieranrowley]

( ✉ → sms ) don’t listen to any of the voicemails i sent last night. i was drunk.

[Kieran] why?

[Kieran] they were so much fun to listen to 

[jakesjohnson-deactivated2025081]

[kieranrowley]

( ✉ → sms ) all i wnat to do right now is talkk to you

[Kieran] babe, I was literally just talking to you 

[Kieran] if i ignore the boyfriend for this whole party your gonna have to end up supporting my lavish lifestyle when i grow old and lose my beauty 

[kieranrowley]

( ✉ → sms ) i don’t think things can ever go back to the way they were between us

[Kieran] jesus sylv, don’t say that.

[Kieran] don’t do this to me. you know that it will

[kieranrowley]

( ✉ → sms ) i’ve had the same dream about you three times in a row, is that weird?

[Kieran] Of course not, lots of women dream about me in rapid succession. I consider it to be a compliment. 

[Kieran] Although I don’t think old Petey would be too happy about that

[Kieran] You should tell him :)

[memesandthings]

TEXT MESSAGE STARTERS, PART TWO ! 

Send one of the prompts below to get a response from my muse.

wrong/random number texts: 

( ✉ → sms ) found your number written on a wall… should i erase it?

( ✉ → sms ) [random name here]? is this still your number?

( ✉ → sms ) pretty sure you dialed the wrong number, but thanks for the 13 drunk voicemails last night.

( ✉ → sms ) you don’t know me but i’m bored and texting random numbers, so hi!

( ✉ → sms ) you FUCKING asshole, i hope you know how much i hate you!!!

sad texts:

( ✉ → sms ) can you please distract me so i don’t cry in public?

( ✉ → sms ) everything hurts lately

( ✉ → sms ) thanks for trying to cheer me up, but it’s not working.

( ✉ → sms ) what makes you feel better when you’re sad?

( ✉ → sms ) i just need to vent…

drunk texts:

( ✉ → sms ) im not DRUNK waht amkes you thijnk that

( ✉ → sms ) cna you pick me up… and brign some shoess… i cant find mine

( ✉ → sms ) the party was horrible but at least ikm drunk lol

( ✉ → sms ) whyj don’t oyu fuckign miss me????

( ✉ → sms ) all i wnat to do right now is talkk to you

angsty texts:

( ✉ → sms ) please talk to me. please help me make this work.

( ✉ → sms ) i don’t think we should see each other again.

( ✉ → sms ) when will we admit we’re no good for each other…

( ✉ → sms ) just know i cared about you. i really did.

( ✉ → sms ) i don’t think things can ever go back to the way they were between us

misc texts:

( ✉ → sms ) why do you reply so slowwwwwww

( ✉ → sms ) help me choose a pizza topping please

( ✉ → sms ) don’t listen to any of the voicemails i sent last night. i was drunk.

( ✉ → sms ) you haven’t watched my snapchat story all day. what are you up to?????

( ✉ → sms ) i’ve had the same dream about you three times in a row, is that weird?

( ✉ → sms ) why is april fool’s the only day of the year where people critically evaluate news articles before accepting them as true?

( ✉ → sms ) soooo, in your opinion, what are some of my best qualities? i need help writing my tinder bio.

[meanplastic]

I’m so fucking tired of not being a multimillionaire

[kieranrowley]

peter-kovalenko‌:

Kieran held out his lighter with an altruistic smile. Peter took it, relief flashing openly across his face. “Thanks.” Nicotine cravings were not to be underestimated, no matter how subtle they started out- if not for this, his next class would be two hours of foot-tapping, nail-biting misery. Absent-mindedly, he turned the lighter over in his hand, flicking the lid open and shut, giving the whole thing a quick appraisal from beneath his frown: it was understated, though no doubt expensive. Old, but cared-for. The initials on the back didn’t start with a K, and the silver felt as solid in his palm as a paperweight. “Nice. Is it an antique?”

He wasted no more time; cigarette lit, first exhale of smoke dissipating in the air, he handed the lighter back. The simplest thing to do now would’ve been to mumble an excuse about getting to class. and head off. But he had time to kill; for once, he didn’t feel averse to the idea of killing it in company rather than alone. Maybe the long weeks of winter break had starved him of that more than expected. So Peter sat down, perched on the very edge of the bench to minimize his discomfort- the stone felt like a fucking slab of ice- and leaned forward with one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other holding up the cigarette, elbow balanced on his bony knee. “Yeah, pretty shitty. Makes you feel warmer, but it’s the reason you’re cold in the first place.” It was a bad habit to have for any number of reasons, but it felt necessary- the ritual moreso than the actual smoking. It helped divide the day into manageable portions: a cigarette for breakfast, a cigarette between classes, a cigarette before and after dinner, time could be measured simply as the thing separating smoke breaks. And it always provided him with an excuse when he needed it most; no one asked for further explanations when you wandered off to go smoke, even if you had other, private reasons for needing to be alone. 

A few minutes had lapsed. Peter realized that he’d drawn up to a silence and stopped there like a car at a red light, not sure of what else to say. He didn’t know very much about Kieran, besides what could be deciphered from his accent and that one shared dinner, which, essentially, summed up to the fact that he was Julian’s Irish boyfriend. Looking up, Peter met the empty eyes of a garden statue. Snow was settling on the crown of it’s head- his gaze shifted quickly back down. Glad to be back? No, that was such a staple of dull, meaningless small talk that he felt himself cringing as soon as the question occurred to him. He swerved around it; came up with something else that was not at all better. “So, uh… what’d you do over the break?” 

He accepted the lighter back, eyes dancing over it as his fingers curling around the cool metal. “In a sense. It belongs to my father. My grandfather had it made for him as a wedding present. I always wanted it when I was a kid.” So I took it. The words went unspoken. Chances were the man would have been forced to sell it at one point or another, or in an even more embarrassing turn of events have to trade it to settle a debt with a fellow socialite. Neither he nor his mother had managed to master economizing after the bankruptcy, and they were far too unlikeable at this point to continue leeching off of family and friends. Sullen bastards.

A quiet settled between them, one Kieran did not feel the need to fill. The only thing Kieran remembered from the double date was that Peter had been unbearably quiet and that he played the piano...or maybe the cello. It had not been the most memorable of experiences, one filled with the mindless chatter of both of their partners and little else. He was almost surprised when the boy spoke.

“I spent a few days at home.” Four dreadfully painful days. He didn’t think it was necessary to release the personal details.  “And the week after Christmas I ended up on Theo Rothschild’s yacht. It was a wild time.” He paused, knowing he was forced to ask the same question in return. “What did you get up to?”

[sylvianneliu-blog]

kieranrowley‌:

He let out a bark of laughter at her words, the sudden noise sounding harsh and grating to his own ears . Subtlety– Sylvianne didn’t know the meaning of the word. Her placating remark did little to settle the tension roiling in side of him, but he did his best to reign it in. Her weight against him did give him some comfort. He could be her port in the storm if he had to, as she undoubtably would be his. The pair’s frame would have looked intimate, to anyone who cast a look their way, two dark shapes intertwined, their outline hazily illuminated against the dark tree-line by the fire’s glow.

“Maybe he did.” Kieran agreed halfheartedly, knowing his words sounded unconvincing. For a moment he bent his head to rest against her own, raising the cigarette to his lips for a long last drag, the ember growing into a final bright blaze before he threw it lazily to the ground before them. 

Nothing’s going to happen to us. He gave her a small smile, willing the tension to leave his face. “Of course not, how can anything happen to us?”  His next words were hollow, bitter almost, revealing the regret he felt that they were even in this situation.

“It’s not as if we did anything wrong.”

Sylv’s cheek pressed to his chest and she took a deep breath in. Kieran smelled of a heady cologne, the rich leather of his jacket and the expensive cigarettes that she bought for them both. Gauloises, somehow she’d been hooked since stealing a few from Jack. He was a comfort, something reliable– he had been since their freshman year. 

In the glow of the campfire, his smile mocked that of a jack-o-lantern and the hollows of his face carved out. Still, he was handsome. “Then that’s settled.” She pulled back, carding back her hair. Dark eyes looked out over the party, "What do you say we get a drink?”

 One hand fell to her hip and a smile caught at her lips, “Or should you be going back to the love of your life?” Her sarcasm bled through the words, but humour glinted in her gaze, she meant no harm. 

[kieranrowley]

He wished it was settled, he desperately did, but there was no turning back at this point. They had made their choice a year ago, and they could only look to the future. A future that did not end with them behind bars. Although he knew with utmost certainty, if the truth came to the surface, he and Sylv would stand by each other. And he could find some comfort in that.

“I better go find him,” Kieran chuckled, his amusement at her words giving just a glimpse of the truth about his relationship. “I’m sure it was not appreciated that I ditched him as soon as we got her.” He gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, followed by a playful wink before he turned from her, looking back into the throng.

“I’ll find you later,” he called over his shoulder. He always did.  

[Thread End]

[kieranrowley]

gia-fox‌:

Kieran called to mind her brother. It was more than their shared history, more than the way they carried themselves, it was more, even, than the way their eyes glinted the same way, as though they were the twinset and Gia should have been excluded. He unnerved her. Frequently. He was also immensely likeable, for the same reasons. Finding him here felt like an omen.

Unsteadily, she reached into her pocket, fingers stiff from the cold. “Kieran.” Gia afforded him the same pause he had given her, but without the sunny brogue she had always found charming. Her own accent was too posh, too unchanged, too much. “I would ask you the same, but I know the answer already, I think.”

Remembering the state of his friendship with Sylvianne was an unfortunate kick to the chest. She glanced unsubtly past him. Nothing lurking in the dark. For now. 

“I do hope they’ll choose who we’re sacrificing to the fire this year sooner. I’m cold.” She was joking, dry and English and familiar with him, but — Frederick Wells. Gia’s breathing stuttered in her chest, and she bit her lip, as if embarrassed to be caught in a moment of cruelty. 

“What ever you are thinking is probably not wrong.” Kieran spoke with an easy smile, the words rolling smoothly off his tongue. She was a pretty girl, such a shame she got wrapped up in Theo’s reckless nature. He was a raging storm and she nearly drowned in him. Although sometimes...if you caught her in an off moment, it was as if she actually drown over the summer, the Ophelia of Augustine.

The well meaning joke felt like a dagger to the chest, cutting him deep without intention. Freds had unknowingly made a sacrifice for all of them.  The public had created a story to explain his disappearance, and his vanished body appearing so far from the crime scene supported the lie. His hesitation lasted just a moment too long, but as soon as he recognized this he filled it with a light sound of amusement.  “Sacrifices only occur at the darkest point of the night- this cold still has a way to go until we reach that point.” Kieran swallowed hard, but his grin did not waver. It was his mask, and he planned to wear it well.

“If another student is lost to this bonfire, Augustine is going to start sending out chaperones to monitor us. “

[bob-belcher]

[kieranrowley]

THE FAMILY TREE   [ TASK II ]

RELATIONSHIP TO CHARACTER:  Maternal Grandfather FULL NAME: Iárad Rowley, 8th Viscount of Langford BIRTH DATE:  October 2nd, 1939 DEATH DATE: April 17th, 2008 AGE: 70 GENDER:  Cis Male SPOUSE: Matilda Acton (deceased, age 54) CHILDREN: Imogen Rowley, Aileen Rowley, Neve Rowley, Kiera Rowley (deceased, age 6) HOME TOWN: Summerhill, Ireland FACE CLAIM:  Ian Mcshane

RELATIONSHIP TO CHARACTER:  Mother FULL NAME: Aileen Rowley BIRTH DATE: June 23rd, 1965 AGE: 54 GENDER: Cis Female SPOUSE: Harry Crawford CHILDREN: Kieran Crawford Rowley HOME TOWN: Summerhill, Ireland CURRENT RESIDENCE: Summerhill, Ireland FACE CLAIM:  Olivia Williams OCCUPATION: Unemployed

RELATIONSHIP TO CHARACTER: Father FULL NAME: Harry Crawford BIRTH DATE: November 11th, 1962 AGE: 57 GENDER: Cis Male SPOUSE: Aileen Rowley CHILDREN: Kieran Crawford Rowley HOME TOWN:  Godalming, England CURRENT RESIDENCE:  Summerhill, Ireland FACE CLAIM: Mads Mikkelsen OCCUPATION: Unemployed

RELATIONSHIP TO CHARACTER:  Paternal Aunt and Godmother FULL NAME: Georgia Crawford BIRTH DATE: December 21st, 1971 AGE: 47 GENDER: Cis Female SPOUSE: Unmarried CHILDREN: None HOME TOWN:  Godalming, England CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England FACE CLAIM:  Winona Ryder OCCUPATION:

[kieranrowley]

willemorlovsky‌:

“old boy,” he replied, automatically bringing his arm up to wrap around kieran’s waist, already far too gone to do anything but lean on whoever it was that came into contact with him. or maybe it only came from a need to be close to someone, his level of intoxication only an excuse to feel the closeness of someone. even someone who would hardly come up to him in other circumstances. a slight laugh escaped him, though his laugh always sounded like more of a hiccup. even more so when intoxicated. “kieran,” he looked up at him with a close mouthed smile. “of course i did.” he slid one of the blunts he had rolled out of his pocket. “but you gotta say the magic word.”

Relief washed over him as he took the boy’s weight willing, swaying slightly to the side. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” If there was one thing he could depend on, it was that Willem would bring the goods to a party. He placed a hand over his heart, grinning as he spoke “Please oh please you amazing asshole, may I have hit.” A hit....or six. He didn’t want to get obliterated but he was far less chatty when he was high.  No one was better to forget himself with than Willem. “I didn’t see you earlier helping set up, what have you been up to?”

[callumturners]

Callum Turner in The Only Living Boy in New York Trailer.