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@ravenclawcumlaude
the issue with writing for yourself is that you will get sucked into rereading your own fic over and over and pretend itâs âediting,â but really youâre just reading because itâs exactly what you want to read. because you wrote it. for you.
and then you will be like why does this asshole never finish anything god
I couldn't figure out why this was a problem until I got to the end where you don't get to the end.
Mind on Dramione and Dramione on my mind.
Iâm a patron of the arts (I leave nice comments on aO3).
Recovering from Covid (for like the fourth time) and trying to get back into my headspace for the fic Iâve been writing for almost a year. Drew a little doodle of my MC, Gabrielle Delacour and my OC, Evander Rosier.
Finally getting around to finishing the second set of illustrations for âManacledâ by @senlinyuÂ
These are all for the flashback section and I had such a fun time creating these!Â
I'm convinced that Pandora killed herself. I bet she tried so hard to forget everything that happened, to regulus her best friend, to evan her brother, how dorcas got killed, and how barty went slowly crazy. She tried so hard to move on an live a life with her daughter but she just couldn't do it. She could not help herself and nobody else could help her in that miserable life full of painful memories. She did not want her daughter to be a victim to her marks of the war. So she killed herself in hope to be reunited with her loved ones.
to add to this i'm convinced reg killed himself as well. he knew that kreacher could apparate out of the cave and could take him, but he didn't. the only explanation is that he desperately wanted out, and that was the only way
I can also see Pandora being willfully negligent during a manic episode. On the good days sheâs a loving wife and mother but on the bad days she almost turns into a stereotypical witch from a storybook. Speaking in riddles, making dangerous potions, mean-spirited and cackling. Her mind wasnât her own on these bad days and she constantly had flashbacks of her friends and their deaths.
She knew she shouldnât mix the two ingredients together, especially not in such large quantities. Best case scenario the potion works but worst case she dies. Would that be so awful, though? She could see her brother and her friends again.
Luna would be better off without her.
The world would be better off without her.
With that thoughtâŠshe tipped the vial into the cauldron.
Inspired by A Gallows Marriage by MilaBelle on AO3.
Chapter 2 vs. Ch. 25 Draco. Iâm anxiously awaiting the next chapter.
Suffering from the same brainrot Iâve had for almost a year: Manacled-era Gabrielle Delacour
Iâve been writing an unpublished WIP with her as the MC and I just finished the scene between her and Montague in the flashbacks and it was gruesome. He deserved it though. I had a rough idea a while back of her at the Royal Opera in London luring him back to the cave by the sea. It resulted in this sketch. Very femme fatale.
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic - The Girls
Created by me in Procreate.
Evan Rosier would enter into a âlavender marriageâ with some poor witch but carry on his relationship with Barty.
I believe in evan rosier office siren, tight White open collar shirt, loose tie, answering phones for a big company, a venti irish coffee sitting on the desk, messy But perfect hair, only Hobby is organizing his 1000 dollars coats collections from Dior, prada, ysl and more , sassy walk, Olivia from final destiny 5 core
TAGS: Rosekiller, Office AU, ?Succession AU?, MicroFic
M/M, Evan Rosier/Barty Crouch Jr.
The view from the ninth floor was decent. Not as good as the thirtieth floor, certainly. One day, though. One day heâd be on the top floor. The C-suite. It was the ultimate goal. Hell, it was his birthright! Maybe his fatherâs name wasnât on the building but heâd help start the company from the ground up.
Evan Rosier had spent three years in junior management training at Crouch & Co. Heâd earned a decent spot in middle management and his department had exceeded every metric the last three quarters. The open VP position was all but his.
He sipped his venti Irish coffee while he pulled at the knot in his tie, loosening it a bit. It had been a long day and it was going to be an even longer night reading reports and making edits. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair and heard a light rap on his open office door. Evan spun in his office chair, leaving the view of the setting sun over the busy streets below.
In the doorway stood his secretary, an elderly witch with spectacles who knew his father when he was CFO. He had a notion to force her to retire but she seemed the type that secretly held the entire company together and if she left, everything would fall apart. At any rate, her shaky hands made her pour too much whiskey in his coffee and she kept her mouth shut.
She announced a visitor and he didnât quite catch their name. A tall, lanky man wearing an impeccably tailored tan trenchcoat stepped into his office and began meandering around, eying the art on the wall.
âErm, can I help you?â
âYes.â
Evan paused, waiting for him to continue. He gave a frustrated sigh when nothing followed.
âWell, when you can verbalize what you need, please do come back to see me.â He sat and began rummaging through papers.
âWhat I need, Evan Rosier, is your help to overthrow my father as CEO and put me in his seat.â
Realization dawned on Evan. He knew exactly who was slowly pacing around his office with his hands casually clasped behind his back. Barty Crouch Jr. The son of the CEO and due to inherit the company after him. He looked to be the same age as him and Evan seethed at this. Born with a silver spoon and dripping with entitlement. Not that Evan came from a poor family but at least he worked to get where he was. Barty literally strolled directly into his position.
âAh, well, Mr. Crouch-â
âBarty.â
âBarty, Iâm sure when your father steps down youâll be able to take that seat without my help.â
âThat old fool will never step down. The only way Iâm becoming CEO is over this dead body.â
âThatâs definitely the other way to gain control, through inheritance. But luckily, your father seems in excellence health.â
âYes, unfortunately.â Barty said carelessly while picking up a stress ball and squeezing it.
Evan raised his eyebrow at this but couldnât help but study his strong hand gripping the stress ball, veins growing hard against taut tendons.
âYou can help me though, and I know you will.â
âYou do?â
Barty nodded and lowered his chin but kept his eyes trained on Evan. With a smirk he said, âI can give you what you want.â
Evan gulped and his Adamâs Apple bobbed. That look paired with the suggestive tone of his voice sent a tingle up his spine. Barty wasnât a pretty boy but he wasnât hideous, Evan noted. He definitely wore his clothes well but had all the fairness of someone who had been coddled all his life and the attitude to match. But this aspiration, this desire, he had for his fatherâs position as CEO told Evan that he had ambition.
âAnd what is it that I want?â
âYou want what I want. Your fatherâs position.â
âMulciber Sr. Is CFO-â
âAnd it should be you! Iâve been keeping an eye on you. On your performance. You run circles around Mulciber with a quarter of the power and influence. Think what you could do if you were CFO!â
Evan had thought of it. Nightly. Itâs all he wanted. His heart raced at the thought of it. He resigned to the thought of having to twiddle away years of meaningless busy work before heâd get a shot at becoming CFO. But damnit, he wanted it.
âWhat if I said youâre right and I did want that. Then what? Whatâs your plan?â
âHere.â Bart slid a business card across Evanâs desk. âOn the back is a date, time, and place. Be there, and we can talk business.â
Evan flipped the card and made an effort not to react to the name of one of the most expensive restaurants in the city that heâd been trying to get reservations at for months.
âItâs a date.â Evan said with a smirk. Barty faltered after he said this but recovered and paced quickly out of his office.
What in Merlinâs name was Evan getting himself into? A treasonous dinner with the CEOâs son? One dinner. Thatâs all it was. He would hear him out and if he didnât like his plan, no harm no foul. He was still on track for his promotion. Heâd be the CFO sooner or later, but sooner was preferable.
Band Au where Barty and Evans have each otherâs first plectrum around there neck (Pandora put them on a necklace) and at the beginning of each concert they both kiss it and the fans goes crazy, and Iâm going crazy too honestly
uhm yes. someone write this
Warning: Explicit
Tag: Rosekiller Band AU, MicroFic
They use a lengthening charm to elongate the necklace chain and use each others plectrum to strum a badass dueling guitar duet. They give each other intense eye contact while biting and licking their lips, hands strumming near their crotch. The stage lights flash and a wet sheen glistens over their forearms and biceps. Hand veins taut. The crowd feels like theyâre interrupting something super intimate.
Barty shortens Evanâs chain which forces Evan to kneel in front of him while he strokes the neck of his guitar. The crowd gives a singular ohh. A devilish grin on Bartyâs face, tongue tip on his canine as he blares his solo to the chanting crowd.
Evan gives his solo while knelt and as the dynamics crescendo, his face morphs into rapture. Hips thrusting upwards towards Barty, mouth agape.
Barty takes small steps towards the kneeling and shredding Evan with the neck of his guitar lewdly pointed towards him. As Evan finishes his solo, sliding his chord down the fret board towards the nut, he sticks out his tongue and runs it in the same direction down Barryâs guitar neck. The crowd erupts in cheers.
Both on their feet, playing with each otherâs flatpick attached to necklace chains, they take turns answering and responding in power chords and bends. While the other plays, they wrap a bit of slack necklace chain around their wrist, causing the space between them to grow smaller. When there is only enough room for their guitars and their strumming hands, Evan unwraps his wrist and encircles Bartyâs neck. With a few powerful downstrokes of Evanâs forearm, the chain tightens ever so slightly. Bartyâs face is flush from the performance and the squeezing of his neck.
The finale is a mind-bending sonic arrangement of delicious harmonies and melodies played by both of the rock gods to a feral audience. The last chord blares throughout the venue and Evan loops his finger under the chain around Bartyâs neck and kisses him with an open mouth, tongue invading Bartyâs panting lips. The crowd is deafening everything except the rhythm of their heartbeats.
Omg thank you I love this,
Also lead singer regulus must be so done with them, like both of them cannot wait two damn hours for the show to end (he, in fact, doesnât mind at all but heâs a dramatic btch and so obviously he need to roll heâs eyes when he see this)
Waiting in the wings, Regulus watches the two guitarists indulge in several kinks live on stage. He bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for his queue to enter, allowing them their pantomimed foreplay and exhibition. Their solos end and he hears the crowd roaring, sufficiently warmed up. When he sees them begin to make out, he knows too well if he doesnât break them apart they will absolutely start fucking right there on stage.
Rolling his eyes, he waves his wand to remove the necklace chains Pandora made for them. She probably didnât expect them to be used quite like this. She was only trying to resolve the vision sheâd had of a dropped pick and wanted to make sure the show went smoothly. Regulus grabbed his wand and cast an amplifying charm on his voice in preparation.
As if right on queue, he runs on stage and pushes through the middle of the embracing guitarists, physically separating them. The crowd is raucous and lively and perfect. The energy they give him lets him know this will be a good show.
Spotlight on Regulus, the rest of the stage dims as his bandmates take their spots for the first song of the set. The drummer counts them in and the first sound from Regulusâ mouth is a belted note over power chords and cymbal crashes. The crowd responds and its electric. No magic could replace the way his fans make him feel right now.
The lights of the venue flash on and off, giving Regulus brief glances of the crowd. A shine catches his eyes. Someoneâs spectacles are reflecting the light back to him. In the front row, a man with messy dark hair, round-framed glasses, and amber skin is looking at him with elation and adoration.
This look isnât new for Regulus. Thatâs the look all his fans wear. As if theyâre looking up at a leather-clad god and loving everything they see. This fanâŠthis man, however, had the most beautiful smile heâd ever seen. He would jump during the chorus, arms extending over his head, and his crop top would lift up, revealing his abdomen. Regulus couldnât help but get distracted by abs, navel, and a dark happy trail.
Heâd never been interested in groupies before but he might push his luck just this once.
I read smut for the plot wdym
hey now...
you did not need to go theređ
I live and die by the angst.
Band Au where Barty and Evans have each otherâs first plectrum around there neck (Pandora put them on a necklace) and at the beginning of each concert they both kiss it and the fans goes crazy, and Iâm going crazy too honestly
uhm yes. someone write this
Warning: Explicit
Tag: Rosekiller Band AU, MicroFic
They use a lengthening charm to elongate the necklace chain and use each others plectrum to strum a badass dueling guitar duet. They give each other intense eye contact while biting and licking their lips, hands strumming near their crotch. The stage lights flash and a wet sheen glistens over their forearms and biceps. Hand veins taut. The crowd feels like theyâre interrupting something super intimate.
Barty shortens Evanâs chain which forces Evan to kneel in front of him while he strokes the neck of his guitar. The crowd gives a singular ohh. A devilish grin on Bartyâs face, tongue tip on his canine as he blares his solo to the chanting crowd.
Evan gives his solo while knelt and as the dynamics crescendo, his face morphs into rapture. Hips thrusting upwards towards Barty, mouth agape.
Barty takes small steps towards the kneeling and shredding Evan with the neck of his guitar lewdly pointed towards him. As Evan finishes his solo, sliding his chord down the fret board towards the nut, he sticks out his tongue and runs it in the same direction down Barryâs guitar neck. The crowd erupts in cheers.
Both on their feet, playing with each otherâs flatpick attached to necklace chains, they take turns answering and responding in power chords and bends. While the other plays, they wrap a bit of slack necklace chain around their wrist, causing the space between them to grow smaller. When there is only enough room for their guitars and their strumming hands, Evan unwraps his wrist and encircles Bartyâs neck. With a few powerful downstrokes of Evanâs forearm, the chain tightens ever so slightly. Bartyâs face is flush from the performance and the squeezing of his neck.
The finale is a mind-bending sonic arrangement of delicious harmonies and melodies played by both of the rock gods to a feral audience. The last chord blares throughout the venue and Evan loops his finger under the chain around Bartyâs neck and kisses him with an open mouth, tongue invading Bartyâs panting lips. The crowd is deafening everything except the rhythm of their heartbeats.
Whatever you do, don't think about Barty having lost his whole friendgroup and having to walk the corridors of Hogwarts, the corridors he used to walk with his friends, as a whole other person.
Not thinking about it. Nope. đ„Č
and they were roommates *gasp* and they were roommates
but its rosekiller
