the king

persuasive lips and terrible motives evan rosier var sc_project=11171832; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="f3d99a99"; var scJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://secure." : "http://www."); document.write("");

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

purebloodperfection:

Narcissa hated doing this. She had sworn to herself that she would never rely on help from her family, not even Evan who was the cleanest of them all. But there was nobody else she could go to. Al was doing his best but feared it wasn’t enough. The greeting she received didn’t help matters. With a raised eyebrow she answered, “Do you always make people feel this welcome? Or is that a treat you leave specifically for me?”

“I reserve it for people who I seem to recall left their families and this life.” Evan replied coolly. He didn’t really bear any resentment towards Narcissa, knowing that she had done what she needed to do. But to someone who was so fiercely loyal, it still stung that she hadn’t just given up on the Black family, but on him by extension. “Who are you looking for?”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

May 1st, 2016 Aphrodite’s Hall

@lucius-fn

The weight on his lap was warm and a comfort to the Rosier heir, even though the drugs swirling around his system made him entirely certain in his ability to do anything he put his mind to. Such was the nature of the high he chased and indulged in all too frequently. Yet he was never alone when he took the drug that so easily pushed his spirits over the edge, the high not seeming so appealing when he had no-one to share it with. As the girl on top of him moved, he glanced over to where Lucius was in one of the other chairs, giving him a wink before his attention got caught on another girl. He was of a simple mind when he was like this, fixated on only two things; prolonging the high and indulging in the sin of lust.

The girl who he had been favouring for most of the night was abruptly pushed from his lap, his attention switching again to the packet of white power sitting untouched on the table littered with drinks and pills and more. Besides rogue twitching of his fingers, his hands were mostly steady as he poured the white powder out, dosing himself before collapsing back in his chair, gesturing for another girl to come over to him.

[regulusregno-blog]

At the sudden (and familiar sounding) words that must be directed towards him, Regulus’ eyes almost flicker down to look at his clothes, wondering if it’s something to do with his attire (is it rumpled? is a button broken?)- and it’s sheer willpower that makes him turn his gaze to the man who had spoken out instead. Besides, he knows there’s nothing wrong with his outfit. It takes him a moment to place the man, but when he does a smirk slides onto his lips almost on reflex, “Rosier, it’s been awhile. I see your terrible sense of humour hasn’t changed.”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

Evan had recognised the young Black the moment he walked through the door, and the harsh comments were meant entirely jovially, a broad smile on his face when Regulus turned to him. “I’ve always had a wonderful sense of humour, it’s you that never learned to take a joke.” Vaguely related through marriage, Evan had never really forgiven Regulus for dropping out of Oxford when he did. It had been understandable on the death of his father, yet still, there was something about an Oxford education that did wonders for a man. “Are you here on business or pleasure?”

[herquill-blog]

Before these past months, or the last couple of weeks, Hestia wouldn’t have thought she’d be making her way inside a place as decorated as this, even if it was only meant to be for a moment, and even then, she would have appeared an eye sore, black beanie against portraits, the walls of the club resembling more painting than anything else to her eyes, the men and women seated enveloped in an atmosphere that contrasted greatly from the parts she was used to, and even after this, usual afternoons were spent among papers and so much writing her hands were stained with ink.

Only there to pass along a message to someone, the errands she found herself completing, there was some shock to the response, Hestia picking suddenly at the hem of her sleeve was all she gave to the fact of her own embarrassment in reaction to the words, not knowing if he was joking or not, just yet, though needed to assume he was, “I wouldn’t, if I were you, the place seems far too nice to leave,” a compliment given with a small smile and another look around the room.

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

Evan didn’t recognise the woman who had entered the room and that was strange in a place such as this where everyone knew everyone else. Such was the nature of somewhere exclusive. Nevertheless, she wasn’t offensive to the eyes and so he tempered the comment that could easily be perceived as offensive with one of his most charming smiles and a lift of his glass in a toast. His eyes didn’t move from her, his contemplation quiet before he gestured to the seat across from him.

“You’re right, it’s very nice and you have good taste. Please, come sit with me for a moment. I’m sure you’re not in a rush, are you?” There was little doubt that although phrased a question, the statement was little more than an order. Yet still he retained his charming smile and his hand remained in the air, as it would until she came over.

[fckingcinema]

And Then There Were None (2015)

[devoted-carrow]

There it was again. Insufferable man that Evan was, he had to pull at the strings, coax out the other side of Amycus. Why did Rosier even expect him to be friendly with him? How could he ever expect for any of the Carrow clan to extend a hand? They were on the same side, but they were like water and oil. Touching but staying on their side, never mingling. “You’re sniffing people now, Rosie? And here I thought the ladies perfumes were so intense they already numbed your sense of smell.” Amycus made a rude gesture with his hand eluding as to what he really meant with perfumes with two extended fingers held to his mouth in a v shape. “And your cat probably ran away. I imagine the poor animal, being smothered by you every day… You should search for some human company and not abuse animals. If you continue Greenpeace may be paying you a visit. Sooner or later.”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

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.”

[devoted-carrow]

There was the playboy, sitting on his golden throne. Good looking, made to be in the spotlight surrounded by gold and glamour. Though sometimes… At least in his eyes he was becoming a bit too full of himself and so the young Carrow gritted his teeth at his words, deciding carefully if he should dignify those words with an answer. “Delightful,” Amycus threw back, with a slight lift of his brows as he came closer. So he decided to not take offense, but he pushed his hands firmly into his pockets as to not give himself the opportunity to react physically. “It’s not like I’m dragging anything inappropriate in here that hasn’t already paid to get in.” He came to a stop in front of him. “I’m not your fucking cat, Rosie.”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

Evan’s feelings toward Amycus Carrow had always walked the thin line between vague friendship and vague dislike, so it was impossible for even him to identify whether his comments had been made in jest or in all seriousness. Yet he didn’t move from his lounging position in his chair, even as Amycus got closer and closer to him, not even extending his hand in greeting. There was definitely some kind of a snub concealed within the lack of a gesture. “No, just you and your... stench.” He sighed, as though he had all the time in the world yet it was still too much effort to spend even a little of that time on Amycus. “I know you’re not my cat, Amy, my cat is house trained.”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

April 28th, 2016 The Tyche Club 3.24pm

Evan had been going over some of the more recent Rosier estate purchases, more out of boredom than necessity, the glass of whiskey in front of him keeping him more than comfortable in the quiet atmosphere of the exclusive club. Exclusive, however, did no longer mean private and so the entry of someone drew his attention. The smile was an easy reflex as he called out to greet them. “You know, I had a feeling this place was losing its reputation but if they’re letting people like you in, I might have to look into changing clubs sooner.”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

oh, if the sky comes falling down for you, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do.

@purebloodperfection

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

mafia au;; evan rosier - the charm offensive

“could have been a mistake.”                                            “people like us don’t make mistakes, do we?”

[siffykins]

send me ‘♡’ for a ship aesthetic of our muses.

[zisisadeadblog-deactivated20210]

      alternatively ‘ ♫ ’ for a friendship one.

[mvlcibers]

He had apparated a little under a mile away to give himself enough time to think of what he might say to Evan, for he’d simply set the manor aflame and fled like some sort of morbid angel of flame, with little conscience and little regard for who perished in said flame. Did Evan blame him for all that had happened, as so many of the others did? Did he know that the entire ordeal had gone up in flames because Nikolai had simply decided that his desire to keep Evan alive at all costs far outweighed the desire to keep anyone else alive? Did he know that Nikolai would surely disappear if he had lost Evan’s approval because of this? He’d spent the mile muttering to himself, practicing what he should say, what he shouldn’t say, but when he came upon the warded gate, the words escaped him. 

The fight against the wards had been noting in comparison to the house elf who was adamant that he not be allowed inside. Frustration had overtaken him quickly, and he’d nearly been sent flying back by the wards; his ear began to smoke as he clenched his fists at his sides, huffing once before stalking toward the stone wall that flanked the wards, looking, glaring, desperately searching to find a chink in the wards so that he could vault the wall and find his Evan. He heard the house elf leave, and in a moment of anger he yelled after the poor creature, curses rolling easily off his tongue as he made a break for the wall, only to be tossed back a few feet by the persistent ward. Nikolai would think to apologize to the house elf later, but quite soon after, he heard a second set of footsteps approaching, and quickly righted himself, scrambling once again to the gate. 

“Hello?” he called, squinting into the darkness that shrouded the approaching figure; his heart gave a great lurch, for he knew deep within his bones that it was Evan, “E-Evan? Is that you?”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

Evan had always been a pragmatist, a realist, never prone to consider the glass half full or half empty, just half useful. That had seemed to go completely out of his mind when confronted with the issue of where Nik could be and why he might have been taking so long  to arrive at a house where - in Evan's eyes - he would have been the safest. The actual events of the battle had been happily expunged from his brain and he had found it harder and harder to recall exactly where Nik had been during the heat and the blood of the siege. The fire had denoted his presence there, but beyond that, Evan had found himself at a loss at to what the state of his friend could be when they finally did meet again. He was mostly just grateful he had managed to convince his increasingly pessimistic mind that it would be a when not an if.

The stroll to the gates had been almost leisurely on Evan's part, determined that his hopes could not be raised so far as for him to make a fool of himself if the man described wasn't in fact Nik. The greeting from the shadowy figure, however, effectively and immediately stopped any thoughts of upholding his carefully crafted cool because it was Nik and he was safe and he was only a few meters away instead of miles and miles. Evan's pace accelerate to get him to the gates in mere moments, the first true smile since the battle settling on his features.

"Nik. You're here." Further conversation was put on hold as the younger man stepped back, drawing his wand and quickly removing the wards that had prevented them from reuniting sooner. Once they had been disposed of, it was all too easy to pull the gates open and for Evan to step out, arms wrapping easily and securely around the other male. There was no-one to witness the action, only the moon watched silently as Evan allowed more of the emotions that seemed to belong to the moments he was with Nik to rise to the surface.

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

i feel like a part of my soul has loved you from the very beginning of everything                                                                             maybe we’re from the same star

@mvlcibers

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

May 23rd, 1982 Octavia Rosier’s house

@mvlcibers

The fact that he hadn’t been able to find Nik once in the London attacks of the 21st had been a never-ending source of worry for Evan. He knew that even as he’d moved around his cousin’s house as though he owned it, giving order and trying to organise a funeral which he felt entirely unprepared for, he had been failing to meet the standard he set for himself in all his life. He couldn’t help but play in his head the worst scenarios possible, that Nik had been engulfed in the flame that he must have created; that he had taken stupid risks to protect the woman with which he was so infatuated. There were too many things that could have gone wrong, that seemed more and more likely had gone wrong. He didn’t understand which other safehouse that Nik could even have considered going to when he must have known that he would always be safe where the name of Rosier was born.

Despite the early nature of the hour, Evan found himself in no more mood to go to bed than he had when the sky had first started to grow dark. There was too much occupying his mind for sleep to be an appealing prospect. Which was why it simply made sense that he was the first person told by the house-elf that there was a man outside, trying to get through the wards on the front gate. He made the long trip down the gravel path, knowing that the anti-apparition charms were in full effect even for those already in the building, unsure as to who he would see on the other side of the iron gate, no matter how he craved it to be Nik.

[mvlcibers]

With one arm still looped around Evan’s back – beneath which Evan seemed to fit quite nicely – Nikolai freed a hand to pat at his ear once more, sighing at the loss of his beloved bucket, whose name changed with each location to which it was brought. What had started as a joke had become a begrudgingly necessary evil, for it was not rare that Nikolai need a good splash to quell the smoke and spark which made him an undesirable presence in any group. It had been largely Evan’s idea, and it was Evan himself who suggested so firmly that he keep it in his possession at all times. Perhaps it was due to a pair of curtains that Nikolai had accidentally set aflame merely by touching them with a passing hand; a foul temper and a pair of ruined drapes and the idea of the bucket was born without a second thought. 

“I don’t need it now,” he shook his head, patting Evan on the shoulder as he took a cursory step back, the Bubble Juice making him overly affectionate in a way that might be like to embarrass them both should his weak constitution make him act strange before the whole crowd. It was a rather close space; were he to do anything as ridiculously embarrassing as would fit the bill of his history in such situations, Evan might be remiss to stand so close to him. Then again, he was always more than a little afraid that Evan might see the truth and inch away from him more quickly than not. 

But, as always, Evan proved him wrong as he was gently steered out toward the center of the dance floor, past winding couples and hastily sideways-glanced eyes; Nikolai was used to being stared at, for his reputation was not a quiet one, but no one could really force him away, for he was in the company of someone with more reputation than he could ever hope to hold. He sidled out onto the dance floor, furiously straightening his jacket as they went, shooting Evan a nervous grin as they came to a stop at the very center, out in the open for just about anyone to see. Nikolai felt as if he might faint. The smoking atop his ear had stopped, at least, but the monster was pacing nervously at the back of his mind, for he could feel eyes upon his back. 

“Are you sure I won’t embarrass you?” Nikolai shuffled, returning his grin as he took a moment to fully catch the joke, “I suppose I – er – won’t be the prettiest girl you’ll dance with tonight. Least I’ll be the one wearin’ the most green; at least m’ear’s stopped smoking.” He flexed and curled his fingers at his sides, feeling far too aware of the sweat upon his palms and beneath his jacket. Nikolai yearned for a sip of Bubble Juice; that would certainly help him be a better dancer. “So I… take your hand, right? Sorry, if that’s wrong; I dunno where to start. Everyone’s twirlin’ around and I can’t seem to see their hands for long enough to get it.”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

There was something indescribably comfortable about having the other male's arm around him and Evan was loathe to give up the contact, despite knowing that it was neither the most appropriate nor the most practical contact for a gala. What could easily have been an instrument of malice in the existence of the bucket was instead a manifestation of just how much Evan worried for his friend. He trusted in Nik to be able to quell the flames and he had enough belief in himself to think that when he was with Nik, the spontaneous combustion of his friend was unlikely. But just as often were the occurrences when Evan couldn't be with the other, and in such instances he firmly believed that the bucket was preferable to Nik setting another possession or indeed, another person, aflame.

"As long as you're sure." Evan affirmed, nodding his head even as he managed to school away the frown at the departing contact. He wanted Nik to be close in a way he'd never noticed before but was certain had always been there. He wanted the companionship of his friend, that was true, but there was again that nagging feeling of wanting something more which had become more and more frequent. Like pangs in his chest whenever his gaze settled on Nik and the look was returned. There was no word in his extensive vocabulary to fit to the situation, though the thought occurred that perhaps without the bubble juice, he wouldn't have been able to see so clearly just what he was feeling. All he knew was that he wouldn't give up on Nik, not ever, no matter what might occur in the war to drive them apart.

He kept his eye out for anyone who might have anything to say about the pair of them dancing together and it was with interest that he noticed those glancing at Nik. He easily returned each look with the perfectly refined glare which spoke multitudes about what he could do to their standing in society. He'd been practising it since the age of three, it wasn't surprising that it had been known to make people quail in front of him. As attached as he was to his penchant for dark magic, he sometimes almost preferred the damage he could cause in the everyday pureblood society that he was so accustomed to.

"You never embarrass me. And you're definitely pretty enough for me to dance with." Evan said, complete confidence in all of his words, not letting himself stop long enough to more carefully consider what he was saying. "You take my hand." He nodded, lifting his hand enough to hold the other male's, hazel eyes fixed for what felt like forever on their joined hands. He coughed to clear his throat, moving his gaze away and back up to Nik's face. "And then your hand rests on my shoulder." He moved his free hand, guiding Nik's to the right place and then decidedly not hesitating before placing his on the other's back and pulling him perhaps a little closer than the hold really required. The younger man swallowed almost audibly, the same indescribable want once again making itself known to him with every breath he pulled into his lungs. "And now we dance."

[douglasboothdaily-blog1]

Douglas Booth for Vanity Fair

[purebloodperfection]

The endearment, princess, a nickname Evan gave to her probably before she could even understand the word. Somehow, just like all the times before, it seemed to have the calming effect Narcissa needed. There were still tears but she was no longer shaking so badly. He didn’t blame her. Maybe then her parents can forgive her… Maybe Lucius won’t hate her as much as she thought he would.

“For once I thought I could do something right. Not be a failure.” The last try at an heir, the replacement betrothed, the incapable of carrying an heir - and the worst of all was that she was unable to protect her baby after promising her that she would always be safe. “I want to tell her that I’m sorry. That I will always love her. That… It’s so unfair. I never even held her.”

[prestigiousrosier-blog]

Evan stroked her hair, still holding her close to him. He wasn’t willing to let her go until she told him to. He couldn’t think of anything more distressing for her to have gone through, especially when she and Lucius had both been so incredibly excited for this child. Until he could make someone pay for what they’d done, he would comfort Cissa. Even after he had settled whatever debt had been created, he would always come back to her, to look after her.

“You haven’t failed. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Of that, he was certain. To him, there was nothing that Narcissa could do that he would ever think badly of. She was a paragon of virtue, perhaps because of the contrast she represented to both him and Bella. She was the light of the family and he knew that he would do anything that was in his abilities to ensure that light never went out, or even dimmed. “She knows. Of course she knows. She could never not know that. You did everything right, Cissa. This isn’t your fault and she knows that.”