#barty crouch jr edit

[marauders-tiktok-curator]

a maniac

[marauders-quotes-bymyfriends]

The emeralds casually chatting about something incredibly unhinged

my friends had this conversation at lunch and I just-

Dorcas: *pretending to hold out a microphone* so do you take the 16 STDs or double it and give it to the next person?

Pandora: I take the 16 STDs!

Evan: nooo, I wanted 32 STDs....

Barty: *waggling his eyebrows suggestively* I'll give you 32 STDs-

Regulus: *hits barty over the head with his school bag*

[hanneloreleyx]

🌘

✨🪐💫☄️✨🌙🌟✨

how long are you going to stay with me?

[dolcevitaaa26]

Regulus Black polaroid collection

[apathetic-kiss]

The Rosier Family being social outcasts amongst the rest of the Sacred 28, not out of disgust or betrayal, but rather due to how the other families hold a morbid curiosity and slight fear towards the pure-bloods who seem to isolate themselves more than any other family.

For as long as anyone could remember, the Rosiers produced peculiar looking heirs; they all shared the same bone-white hair and gaping eye-bags, facial structure like fine china and long, bendy limbs. The children were always strange, seemingly intellectual and wise beyond their years, darkened pupils that seemed to stare into your soul if you made eye-contact for too long. They would chatter amongst themselves, rarely talking to the other pure-blood youths, preferring to whisper to each other in soft mumbles and squeaks. The Rosier children were never sent to Hogwarts, and rarely attended pure-blood banquets and balls. If they did, they trailed behind their parents and hid away in corners, blending in with the cryptids and ghosts which seemed to haunt every old wizarding mansion. When they aged, the Rosier offspring tended to become even more hermit-like; there was no presenting a daughter to society, no celebrations of a boy coming-of-age in the same way there was in other pure-blood families. They instead would disappear from pure-blood society for years at a time, their parents or aunts or siblings airily mentioning that they were abroad at the time.

In adult-hood, it was said the Rosiers only had one path of employment, and that was none. The blood-line was made up of inventors, of researches and explorers and users of dark magic, of witches and wizards who travelled the world and did unspeakable things in the name of discovery. Whispers existed amongst the Sacred 28 in regards to what the Rosiers had managed to uncover, invent, and twist their magic into, with rumours of anything from successful immortality, inter-species breeding, artificial life, and spells, hexes, and potions beyond one's wildest imagination. Whenever a Rosier died (as very few of them seemed to make it to old age), it was usually due to a tragic accident, a spell gone wrong or being mauled to death by a mysterious creature, a mix-up of potions or something along the lines of accidental, self-inflicted insanity. The private events such as funerals were barred from anyone outside the family line, preventing any further investigation into the births, lives, and deaths of the Rosiers.

The exception was if there ever was to be a union of two families when a wedding was held on the mysterious lawns of the Rosier mansion. Even then, it was kept relatively private, with only the immediate family of the non-Rosier spouse allowed to be in attendance, and the presence of a single writer to detail the events of the ceremony for the Sacred 28's records. However, weddings only ever seemed to happen once every forty years or so; there was only usually a single sibling married in a generation, the others dying mysteriously young or pledging themselves to their work for all eternity. It was as though the Rosiers only ever interacted and joined with another family for the sake of continuing the blood-line, and other than that would rather stay hidden away on the acres of property and endless wealth accumulated by the family over the generations.

The birth of twins Evan and Pandora Rosier was kept a secret from the rest of the Sacred 28 until their fifth birthday, when their mother brought them along to a morning tea hosted at a pure-blood mansion for the women to discuss the current political sphere of the wizarding world. The other women were shocked when Céline Rosier floo-ed into the mansion, her first public appearance in almost six years (they always invited her and her husband to events out of obligation and politeness, but the two very rarely showed to events. Secretly, the other family members were always slightly relieved when they didn't.). They were even more surprised at the addition of two white-haired children clinging to her robes, who she whispered to softly and sent outside to the court-yard to see the other children. Céline's sister, Druella Black, embraced her tightly, though the fury at her exclusion from her sister's life ever was apparent on her face; the family had cut her off both socially and financially after she chose to move to the Black family mansion instead of raising her children on the Rosier ancestral land. People had whispered about how this apparent betrayal to her roots and her aligning with the Black family instead would place a curse on her and her children, the rumours already whirling after her boys were born and were missing the signature pale hair; Druella had dyed her hair black the day after Sirius was born, a sign of rebellion against anyone who dared question her allegiance to the Blacks. Still, as they grew older, the lack of resemblance between the Rosier twins and the Black boys became more and more apparent regardless of the closeness in blood relativity. Nobody dared bring up the curse again, and Druella's maiden name and the history of her roots was never mentioned in Sacred 28 circles again.

Evan and Pandora grew up the same way generations of their ancestors had; isolated, surrounded by books, and most of all, alone. Their parents spent most of their days locked away in their own workshops, the job of child-rearing left to various members of staff and random family members who lived around the property. There were always wizarding scientists and researchers and medical professionals popping in and out of the mansion, some staying for tea and some staying for six months at a time, some who ignored the children and some who taught Evan everything he knew about potions. Though some would argue that this was no way for children to grow up, the twins would disagree; they had free-reign of the giant house and surrounding property, no bed time or limitations and complete access to their family library which had been accumulated over centuries to house over twenty-thousand books and manuscripts. When Pandora was eight, she decided she was going to read everything in the library before she died, even if it took her reading all day every day of her life (she gave this up not even twelve days into it, when had Evan begged her to put down the books and come camp down at the creek with him. She had obliged). They spent the first eleven years of their lives reading constantly and desperately, devouring novels and spell books and potion guides and studies on muggles and wizarding magazines and whatever they could get their hands on. They made potions and taught themselves non-verbal magic, experimenting with animals and transfiguration and manipulated all kinds of elements and metals and objects. They never learnt the distinction between light and dark magic, it all seemingly just a tool for them to learn how to further their skills. It was an incredible way to grow up according to them, and they wouldn't have changed it for the world. But before their shared eleventh birthday, everything had changed.

When the pair woke up and received their Hogwarts letters, they had simply tossed them to the ground and gone on with their day; Hogwarts was irrelevant to them, and only existed vaguely in their peripheral thoughts as something that other magical children were a part of. However, that night when they sat down for a very rare family meal, Céline had announced that the twins would be starting at the boarding school in September. That decision was final. After some push-back from her children, she had shut them down with a no-arguments look and the twins fell silent. They looked at each other with slight hesitation, not knowing what the hell to expect from this switch-up in the routine and life-style they had known all their life. That summer, Pandora had buried herself in books and journals written about Hogwarts and by Hogwarts students, attempting to learn and memorise everything she could about the school and its history. Evan on the other hand, was in complete denial; he shut down any mention of the school by his mother or sister, and refused to engage in Pandora's discussion about aspects of the curriculum or what their experiences at the school may be. He spent most of his time leading up to their departure for Hogwarts locked in the upper rooms of the mansion, experimenting on frogs and rats and mice as he perfected more spells and potions he was working on (though he did occasionally allow Pandora to join him and help work out the flaws in his potion-work, as long as she promised no mention of their upcoming time at the educational institute that will not be named).

The first problem that came along at Hogwarts was the expectation that they mingle with the other pure-blood families; they had only very rarely interacted with other children, and so the idea that they were supposed to befriend and talk to these other pure-bloods was an alien concept to them. Evan and Pandora had spent a little time with Regulus and Sirius as kids, but the brothers were already sitting with Sirius' Gryffindor friends in another carriage. However, this did mean the twins had an excuse to sit alone together and bury themselves in books (Pandora in her now-battered copy of Hogwarts; a History, and Evan in a definitely illegal book on the anatomy of various creatures and how to best butcher them for black-market sale).

The second problem that arose for the twins was the discovery at the sorting ceremony that they were to be in different houses. Evan was called up first, and the whispers had already begun about which house the first Rosier to ever attend Hogwarts would be in. The hat barely touched his head before shouting out Slytherin, and he had made a bee-line for where Regulus was seated with the other first years on the table. However when the hat was placed on Pandora's head, it had deliberated for a few seconds before calling out Ravenclaw. Evan had felt his face drop and the his look of horror matched Pandora's own; there was nothing wrong with Ravenclaw of course, but the awfulness of not being in the same house as his sister was something that hadn't even crossed his mind. They had spent their whole lives together, they were attached at the hip, they were practically the same person, right? Right? He watched Pandora drift over to her house table with a mournful look on her face, nodding with fake reassurance at her when their eyes locked. They would make this work.

The third problem Hogwarts presented the twins was the issue of their apparent disconnection from the rest of the wizarding world. Though this was something that had never bothered them before, and something they had in fact felt proud of in their childhood, it was now becoming a problem. Evan had never shared a room with anyone aside from Pandora, and his social skills... left room for improvement. His room-mates, Regulus and Barty, thought he was a total asshole who hated the both of them, when in reality he simply didn't understand the premise of politeness; he and Pandora had always been brutally honest to one another and to their parents, and this just seemed like the norm until he arrived at Hogwarts. Pandora's roommates on the other hand seemed to catch on to her apparent otherness immediately, and quickly shunned her from their group for being weird and creepy (it actually took Pandora a few weeks to catch onto the fact that they were being mean to her; she just figured the other girls were ignoring her out of nerves, the same way she was anxious every time she tried to start a conversation with them. She discovered this was not the case though after the fifth time she had tried to talk to one of them, and they had all left the room giggling and pointing at her). Neither of them made any real friends in their first year, and were utterly miserable.

Things perked up in their second year. Regulus had gotten into a fight with Sirius over summer and the two were no longer on speaking terms. Barty's presence had started to become truly annoying to Regulus, so Evan and Pandora became the only ones Regulus deemed appropriate company as the two were happy to sit in silence and read together. Pandora also managed to befriend an older Slytherin girl, Dorcas, as the two had striked up a conversation about Herbology in the library and become study partners. Dorcas was struggling in her third-year potions, a subject Pandora was well-versed in and knew all kinds of tips and tricks in. Pandora was barely passing Defence Against the Dark Arts as the theory was mind-numbingly boring to her, but luckily it was Dorcas' best subject. Evan and Regulus were quickly added to their study group due to their proficiency in other subjects, and when he could be convinced to shut up, Barty would sometimes lounge on a nearby table and pretend to do work. How he managed to have the highest grades of all of them, that was the true mystery.

Their little rag-tag group of five only grew closer over the years at Hogwarts, and stuck together through all the triumphs and traumas. They were there for each other when Dorcas was made quidditch captain, when Sirius ran away and Regulus was left alone, when Evan and Pandora's mother died in fifth year, when Regulus was made a prefect, when Dorcas' sister contracted a terminal illness, when Barty came back from Christmas break with red marks up and down his back. They were there for each other through it all, and Evan never knew the meaning of found family until their group of five found each other; to the Rosiers, family was blood and blood was family, end of story. He had never known there was an alternative, but he didn't care; his mother and father had never held him when he cried, but Dorcas had wrapped her arms around him after he broke down thinking of his mother being lowered into the ground.

And, after everything went down and everything went to shit, Regulus and Barty had held him in the shower as his shoulders shook, terror and fear and mourning wracking his body as he thought of Pandora. His beautiful sister, the most important person in his life, the other half of his soul had denounced him, had said she would kill him herself if she ever saw him again, had screamed at him with ferocity unseen ever before after seeing the tattoo that now decorated his forearm. She'd refused to listen to him and his pleas to join him, to follow him into the darkness of discovery, to become powerful together. After everything they had been through, they'd each chosen family in their own way; Evan, in following Regulus and Barty into the darkness Voldemort's growing allegiance, and Pandora, in remaining isolated from the affairs of the outer wizarding world, in separating herself from anyone who was not blood or who betrayed their blood, and in cutting off their apparent found family at the drop of a hat.

At the end of the day, it all came back to family, to the Rosiers, and to the endless, relentless isolation.

Evan died alone on a battle-field, his body left on a beach to be reclaimed by the elements as his soul departed for the afterlife. Pandora felt the second he left this plane of existence, a string inside of her cut and leaving her forever longing for the brother she had lost a long time ago. She had looked out her kitchen window after the day of his death, seeing a pair of two dark-haired men standing in the paddock across from the Rosier mansion, the empty space left for her twin apparent in the middle of the two men. They had all looked at one another for a moment, before her old friends had disapparated into the winds of the day. Pandora sighed quietly, a tear falling down her face as turned back towards the bubbling cauldron she was minding. She wiped her face quickly as she heard her husband walking up the stairs, and fixed her face with a soft smile.

Pandora died alone in the backyard of her childhood home, a flash of blue light being the last thing she saw before her body fell to the ground. Her last thought was not of her twin, but rather of her daughter he never got to meet, and the regret she felt at subjecting her to seeing her mother die like that. As she felt herself cross into the afterlife, it was as though a part of her soul let out a sigh of relief. Though she was leaving behind her family, she was to join Evan and her parents once again. Maybe that was for the best.

Xenophilius locked up the Rosier mansion for good after his wife was buried in the family graveyard, moving his young daughter away from the house which had always rubbed him the wrong way. The halls, the bedrooms, workshops, and library would stay empty for many years, preserved with spells and protective enchantments keeping the mansion pristine and untouched by the years gone by. If one were to visit now, it would look as though the Rosiers were still there, and perhaps had simply gone for a walk, and would return any minute. They say the ghosts of the Rosier bloodline still haunt the house, the chatter of laughter and the sound of scribbling and the turning of pages echoing through its empty, abandoned hallways.

Another family lost, forgotten to the magic of time passing.

[crimsonlovebartylus]

barty and regulus would do that tiktok trend of army dreamers in the playground:

and the comments would be shipping them and saying how pretty they are.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

Ant Pile — sommerregenjuniluft on ao3

Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier | E | 7163 words | chapter 1/2

This is a story about two boys raised by the sun.

Florida heat, being a teenager, best friends and how falling in love works when you’ve already loved them for as long as you can remember.

insp by Dominic Fike’s song Ant Pile

[uptolovegood]

rosekiller one shot | word count: 689

“stop fucking moving, dumbass,” evan muttered under his breath as barty grinned, his eyes closed as he fidgeted with his fingers, unable to keep entirely calm while evan was this close to his face.

the day before, pandora had been teaching evan and regulus how to line their waterline with eyeliner. they hadn’t asked, but she’d just learned it herself and was eager to show someone. when she’d asked her brother and best friend, they both simply looked at each other and sighed, knowing they’d give in to whatever pandora asked them to do. calling her their soft spot was an understatement.

despite their initial doubt, they’d both ended up liking it. regulus had worn it for the whole day, and he could have sworn he’d seen james spill his drink all over the table as he glanced at him. it almost made regulus smile, though he’d never admit that.

that same day, barty had seen it on evan, too, and became slightly curious. at first, he hadn’t noticed it. it was a very subtle change, he thought. but when barty noticed it, oh, he noticed.

“oi, rosie,” he said, making evan turn around to fully face him. barty had felt like throwing up in that moment. or like he was on the verge of a heart attack. or both, possibly.

“what?”

“i want that.” i want you, he meant to say. evan had looked extremely confused, clearly. and so barty just pointed to his eyes, his lips twitching while fighting back a smirk.

“oh, panda can do it for you.”

“do you know how do it?”

“yeah.”

“i want you to do it, then.”

and that’s how they’d gotten here. barty sitting down in their dorm with evan standing in-between his legs, holding his chin with those pretty hands of his and fully concentrated on barty’s face. barty was stubborn, though, so he’d open his eyes just to get a look at evan, ruining the eyeliner in the process. it was the third time evan was doing this, and he’d cussed him out and told him it’d be the last. barty wasn’t one to listen, but he complied.

“done.” was all evan said, shoving a mirror on barty’s face. he didn’t want to be this close to him for much longer. he was hot and extremely bothered by the unspoken intimacy of that moment. it didn’t make sense and he didn’t really want to dive deeper into it, so he just didn’t.

barty shoved the mirror out of the way, grinning that barty crouch jr grin that makes you quake in your boots (although evan was clearly ‘quaking’ somewhere else), and looked up at evan, fluttering his eyes, before whispering low enough just for the two of them to hear, despite them being alone.

“do i look pretty, rosie?”

“oh, fuck off.” evan said, pushing him off. barty, however, had held his wrist before he could run away. not this time, he thought. and so he slid his arm around evan’s waist, all while still intently looking up at him, seeing the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“answer me.”

“you do.”

“i do what, rosie?”

there was a pause. a very shaky, breathy inhale came out of evan. like something had broken inside of him. he’d pursed his lips for a second, then took another good look at barty before saying, “fuck you.”

barty was this close to saying, “i would love to”, when evan got completely rid of the distance between them and smashed his lips on barty’s. desperately, savagely, like he needed him now. and he did, he had. he just didn’t know that he wanted it this bad, too.

the last thing evan heard him say was, “you look so pretty like this, rosie”, before he completely lost sight of himself. his whole body was on fire and only barty could ever possibly light him up this way.

needless to say, the eyeliner evan had worked so hard on had completely smeared for the third time by the time they were done. the best thing? he wasn’t even mad about it this time.

[m3ntal-hiatus]

does barty also have daddy issues or did we as a fandom look at him, nod, and collectively think “nah, he’s just got an issue with his dad”

[vinjil]

Sirius: Remus is just awesome in bed, do you know?

Regulus: Do you know that James is much better?

Sirius: shut up! Remus is the best!

Sirius:..

Sirius: Stop, did you say James?

[wastingawayinmyroom]

@moonyswarmsweaters @thedvilsinthedetails @thevampireslovelywife i'm seriously debating turning this into a multi chapter a03 fic ngl

here's the "stacy's brother" x rosekiller microfic!!! 902 words, warnings: uhhh slightly nfsw?, blood, dissection of a lizard (not in much detail), a little bit abt the abuse bitch crouch sr inflicted on bcj

...

He knew Evan Rosier in glimpses. Taking out the trash, talking to Pandora out of his field of vision on FaceTime, popping up in hallways between classes every now and then. 

That did not change shit about the way he felt for the older boy.

It was sinful, Barty thought, throwing a backpack over his shoulder and crawling out his bedroom window. He scaled down the brick wall in complete darkness, every ridge and possible handhold memorized. Totally, wholly sinful to fall in love with your best friend’s older brother, all while she fell in love with you. 

Of course, he couldn’t be sure that Pandora liked him, but it wasn’t like she did anything to curb the rumors— in fact, she seemed to like it when people whispered behind their backs, saying they were fucking, dating, or whatever new story they had come up with. 

Barty didn’t really mind, but if Evan thought he wasn’t single, that was ruining his chances. Then he minded.

He dropped silently onto the ground, checked it for any traps, and ran, carefully avoiding any dried leaves. He couldn’t risk making any sound. His father could hear, and then…

His back throbbed from the remnants of his latest beating. He definitely wasn't anxious for another one. He had to keep quiet.

When he finally made it to the Rosier house, he climbed up to the second story window. His arms burned and his legs protested from the effort, but it was all worth it when he peeked inside and saw Evan Rosier. Evan fucking Rosier, sitting right there on the desk, dissecting what looked like a lizard.

There was something strangely hot about the way Evan furrowed his eyebrows while he poked around with tweezers, intently focused on the animal. There were guts and organs spilled everywhere on the newspaper he was working on, and suddenly Barty was overcome with the urge to lay down on the desk for Evan to examine. He wanted to feel Evan’s touch, to be looked at with that much focus and dedication. He wanted to be the object of Evan’s fascination. 

He licked his lips, dry and chapped from the cold. He couldn’t bring his eyes away from Evan’s face—oh, the things he wanted to do to that face—so he raked his gaze over it instead, millions of unholy fantasies running through his mind. 

Fuck. He needed that boy. He needed that boy on him, right at that moment, or else he’d—

“Are you going to knock?” 

Evan didn’t even bother with lifting his head or stopping what he was doing. “What are you waiting for, an invitation?”

His voice was muffled by the glass in between them, but it was still sexier than ever. Deep and husky and so perfect.

“I…” Barty didn’t know what to say. He would kill for this boy, die for him, anything for him. Just for him. 

“Could you..?” He gestured vaguely to the window. Evan rolled his eyes, but set down his tools and got up to open the window. As Barty shimmied through, he caught a glimpse of blood on the other boy's hand, and he had to resist the urge to not stare at it forever.

“What?” Evan asked, noticing how Barty’s eyes lingered on his skin for too long.

“You’ve got something there,” Barty said, eyes still on Evan’s right hand. He had no idea where the surge of bravery had come from, but he had the strong urge lick the blood off with his tongue.

Evan just stared at him, his hollow-eyed gaze digging holes in Barty’s head. Barty leaned towards him. “I could help get rid of it.”

No response. Fine, then. He’d have to take matters into his own hands— literally.

Slowly, Barty brought his hand closer to Evan’s. Evan didn’t break eye contact. Neither did he. 

He intertwined their fingers, giving Evan ample time to resist, but the other boy seemed just as into it as he was. He ran his fingers over the blood on Evan’s hand, wiping it off gently until it was all on him. 

He took his hand away. Evan was watching now, eyes fixed on Barty’s slender, ringed digits. 

He raised his hand to his mouth, staring directly into Evan’s murky eyes. Flirting with his best friend's older brother? Fuck, he was screwed.

So he did the obvious thing. 

He parted his lips and slipped his fingers inside, leaving his mouth open for Evan to see. He rolled his tongue over them, moving then back and forth, letting out small groans and closing his eyes in bliss. 

Evan clutched the windowsill. “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes wide at the show Barty was putting on. 

Barty smirked. He slipped his fingers out with a wet pop. There was not a single trace of blood on them.

“I can do some other things with my mouth,” he said, his face mere inches away from Evan’s. He relished the way the other boy’s eyes darkened.

“Evan!” Pandora swung a door open, probably down the hall. “Is Barty here? Or did you fucking kill him?”

“I’m here, Panda,” he yelled back. Evan’s vocal cords still seemed to be in shutdown.

He adjusted the strap of his backpack. “I’ll go wash my hands,” he said, grinning deviously. 

He stopped at the door. “Oh, right.” He fumbled through the backpack for his phone. “What’s your number?”

[marauders-tiktok-curator]

first day of the month

as usual, 1 is the loneliest number

questionable if this counts as a marauders tiktok tbh because it’s more barty, it’s still pretty good though

[marauders-quotes-bymyfriends]

I don't even know what to say about this one...

Evan: I was on all of the drugs

Barty: No you weren’t, your pee tasted fine

[pearlynia]

Real conversation I had with my beautiful friends but as marauders era:

Regulus: Am I gay gay, or just gay?

Evan: yes

Regulus: I-

Barty: no ur gay gay gay

Regulus: Why-

[ethan-torchios-bitch]

remus: barty i need you to swear-

barty: fuck

remus:

barty:

remus:

barty:

remus: not what i meant but i feel that

[where-is-vivian]

things i need to write: rosekiller burrying a body.

thanks for coming to my ted talk.