#fallenrose

LMFAO I GOT LORE FOR THIS ONE

Rabastan and Barty HATED each other. Rabastan was so head over heels for Evan but Barty & Evan were obsessed with each other. That did not stop Evan from flirting with Rabastan, sometimes if it was just to make Barty jealous. Anyway Rabastan resented Barty for getting to Evan before he could, because even when Rabastan did his best to be kind and understanding and tried to better for Evan, it wasn’t enough and Evan always went back to Barty, who never tried to change or improve. (At least from Rabastan’s perspective)

Anyway poly fallenrosekiller would save us a lot of a angst lol

Talking about Barty x female characters, I can't see Evan Rosier with a girl... and I hc him as bisexual so if someone has a ship of him, enlight me please.

unholy animal crossing noises

Sorry for the late reply lol

I DO I HAVE SO MANY! They even make an appearance in my hunger games au (though it is a brutal death but still)

if u want more content my moot on TikTok @rabastan4life HAS SOOOO much content of them ok my interpretation of Rabastan is a little different than theirs tho but they are TOTALLY the CEO of this ship idk what their Tumblr is tho

so actually instead of sharing hcs imma just give you a whole ass wip of a fic i had of them. it was supposed to be fallenrose endgame but lowk the rosekiller dialogue in the later half was SO peak i couldnt bring myself to finish writing fallenrose. i'll probably use that dialogue for a rosekiller one shot on here at some point ANYWAY

okay before you read this i do have ONE headcannon i wanna share which is that rabastan gets evan a fox plushie bc they hang out in the woods a lot and once and he saw evan's eyes LIGHT UP when they saw a fox like he looked overjoyed (evan doesn't go outside a lot lmfao) and so he got him a plush named Hazelnut and he has a matching plush named Apricot.

Do keep in mind it’s a little old now so it’s not my best quality writing lol also it’s unedited cuz I just copy and pasted it right from the doc so if there’s any mistakes…you didn’t see them 👀

OKAY now enjoy

Evan blew a huff of smoke from the cigarette dangling between his fingers, the taste stained his lips, his teeth, the words frozen on his tongue. His eyes watched the embers on the edge flicker and die, inhaling deeply, trying to stay caught up in the high of mixed chemicals. Trying to ignore the scratching in his chest, the empty, hungering feeling he felt. His knuckle dug into the grass, thumb pushing deeper into the soil. The dirt would end up rotten and black under his fingernails, but he didn’t care. He blew again, deeply, watching the smoke dissipate into the cool night air.

The summer had been dry and hot, but the nights seemed cool. Safer. It was dark out. Dark enough that he couldn’t see Rabastan’s face entirely, shadows masquerading over him. Rabastan ran a hand through his hair, hugging his knees, eyes on Evan. His eyes never went anywhere else. He watched, with a small pit of envy in his gut, as Evan took another shaky inhale. He was jealous of the smoke that got to grow deep in his lungs and stain his flesh. He was jealous the way Evan held the cigarette between his two fingers delicately, with precision. He was jealous of the wind that rifled through Evan’s hair, and the silver moonlight that danced over his skin. He would never be that close to Evan. No matter how much he wanted to be.

Evan’s eyes stayed up in the sky. He didn’t want to look at Rabastan. He could feel Rab’s eyes trained on him, he could feel them bore into his skin. He felt the chittering voice in his head try to claw its way out through his lips, but he shut it down. Tonight was not the night to do something stupid.

He stubbed out the cigarette on the grass. Discarded it somewhere, lost in the strands of green. Pandora would’ve killed him for that. But Pandora wasn’t here right now. His eyes wandered away from the stars, over to the clouds swarming about the sky; he thought to try and count them, like Pandora always told him to when his thoughts got too muddled, but he couldn't make out where one cloud started and another began, so he gave up, blinking away the weariness that was begining to plague his body.

“You’re tired,” Rabastan noted. Evan sighed, punching the ground beside him, sucking in a breath. The air felt too clean. He liked it better tainted, liked it better when it was as disgusting as him. 

“You aren’t?” Evan scoffed.

Rabastan hummed. He was, his body was worn and he didn’t have the strength to move. But he didn’t need to say that for Evan to know. Evan huffed again, running a hand through his tousled blond hair. He was a mess. Rabastan's eyes scanned over Evan, slowly, trying to take it all in. He was beautiful; of course, Rosiers were known for their beauty. For their soft, smooth porcelain skin and their icy, cold eyes. Inhuman. Rabastan never ceased to be amazed how Evan could be sitting there; mundane, still, not doing anything in particular, and still leave Rabastan breathless. He felt something warm and cool and a million other things swirl like the start of a storm in his chest.

It was dark out. Rabastan hadn't wanted to come out at first; he hated the dark, but with Evan nothing ever seemed permanently sealed in black.

“It’s nice out, isn’t it?” Rabastan said finally, settling onto the grass, lying down on his side. Evan waited a moment, looking over him; the way his hoodie stuck to Rabastan's body, wrapping around him. Evan wondered what that might be like. Above them, the sky was black. Dark like shadows. Clouds hazed by, blanketing over the moon. A few stars still poked through.

“Yeah,” Evan agreed. He moved to lie down too. The grass parted around them like water, and Evan felt Rabastan’s hand find his through the grass. Rabastan had always hated the dark. He wasn’t scared of it, but he viewed the darkness as an obstacle. Something unknown you had to trudge through to get to the light at the end of the tunnel. Evan felt comfortable in the dark, it was all he liked to think he knew. He had no want to go to any sort of light; it seemed to burn through his skin. Too pure for a filthy soul like his.

Silence was never uncomfortable with the two of them. The wind shifted around them coolly, Evan felt Rabastan squeeze his hand.

"what do you think would happen if we just…" his voice trailed off, his eyes searching Evan, searching the sky, searching for the connectiont that made the clouds remind him of Evan. It was the same dreary, heavy way they carried themselves. "…disappeared?"

Something like panic sparked to life in Evan's life. He tried to picture his life without Rabastan; dragging himself through every day like he was a ghost wrapped in enchanted chains, an anchor pushing its way down into the ground, shrouded by the cold blanket of water pressing against its metal skin. He felt something sour like bile begin to make its way up his throat; that would be like torture, being in a home fenced by the Garden of Eden and never being allowed out. Heaven just out of reach.

“I’d care,” Evan said finally, his body tense. He hoped Rabastan didn't notice; didn't notice the way his voice flared when he spoke of leaving. When the thought crossed between them. “I’d be pretty pissed if you just vanished off the face of the earth some day.”

“I didn’t say I,” Rabastan spoke softly, almost irratingly. The soft edge of his voice poked at his skin, sinking into him. It hurt more when he was soft like this; when he was gentle, kind, sweet. Rabastan was a dangerous person, but he had this side of safety he spared just for Evan; and the notion this sweetness was only for him made him feel sick and made his body spark with excitement all at once. Rabastan shuffled a little closer, the wind swirled past them, carrying the scent of their mingled scents away. “I said we.”

Evan felt his heart stutter in his chest. We. Us. He wished he had it in himself to cry, if he did, he would. He wasn't sure he would ever stop. He tapped his chin. Now Rabastan's gaze froze on the stars; tracing them over the skin of the sky, and now Evan was the one looking at Rabastan, like he never wanted to look away. The story always finds a way to change. Not the stars or the endless oblivion behind them, just the dark-haired boy and the blue-eyed boy in front of them.

Evan bit his lip, tried to think of something witty to say, but he gave up. “Your brother would care,” Evan said finally. “Mine would too. And my sister.”

“Then we could take them with us.”

Evan laughed dryly, and let the words settle in. He saw it on Rabastan's face that he wasn't joking, and he scoffed, pulling his knees closer to his chest. “And take them where?” he asked, sitting up. He didn’t think Rabastan was being serious until he saw the look on the boy’s face; complete stoicism, like he was deep in thought, trying to map out where to go.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “But anywhere. I’ll go anywhere if you come with me.”

Evan stared at him blankly, something in his chest tightened. He looked back up through the woods, where the clouds and the stars stared at them awkwardly.

"It would be somewhere far away from here," Rabastan looked up, eyes glazed over at the sky. Evan's hand trailed up, he moved closer, to feel the heat of Rabastan's body against his. He wanted to curl up against him, never move again and just envelope his body entirely against Rabastan's.

Rabastan thought back to the old magazines Rodolphus used to bring; they must be clustered in a pile, a swarm of cut-up paper and sticky note bookmarks; stickers where he wanted to go, all the places out of reach from him, even when they're so close. He thought of one cover on a travel catalouge; Tuscany's gentle golden fields of sunflowers, rolling around in green of Italy, "maybe Italy," he hummed.

"Italy?" Evan scoffed, the smoke from earlier seemed caught up in the unpsoken words in his throat. Evan looked up at the stars; trying to pin down the shifting feeling of unease unfurling in his gut. Almost like he was considering it. "Italy," he repeated softly, watching Rabastan's face. Rabastan buried his face in his knees, eyes finally parting from Evan. Evan watched, quietly. His lips burned. He imagined Rabastan in a field of green, lost somewhere under the sun, the two of them drowned in laugher; and they were together under the sun. They were out where everyone in the heavens could see them. He clenched his fist in his lap. What was he thinking? Why did he let that thought linger for so long?

Evan was looking up, Rabastan was looking at him. That’s how the story always went, but as far as Rabastan could tell, the stars were prettier than him anyway. If he could see Evan from where he was, no matter where Evan's eyes went, he was happy. Or so, he told himself, anyway.

“We wouldn’t make it out.”

“We could.”

“We won’t,” Evan said. Sometimes, he found the things he loved about Rabastan made him hate the boy a little too. That overwhelming hope that seemed forever trapped in his eyes, an endless haze of gold and dreams. That wide smile, his tender voice. People who were scared of him knew nothing about him, nothing about the candy-sweet boy that drooled over Evan all day long.

“How do you know if we don’t try?” Rabastan asked. Evan felt something in him recoil when he sensed the desparation wringing through Rabastan's voice, felt how it dripped down through his lips right into Evan's hands, into his lap. “We could make a plan. You’re good at those. I could try and convince my brother, we could–”

“We aren’t doing any of that, Rab,” Evan reiterated, unease growing in his chest. His eyes scanned over Rabastan; the parted lips, wide eyes. “It’s a nice thought, but would you just let it go?” Evan tried to be gentle, but he was never really good at that.

“Why not?” Rabastan asked, leaning in closer, Evan pulled away—his scent, his voice, it was too much. It wrapped around him with claws, only they weren't really claws, they were gentle, open hands that looked like claws in the dark of Evan's mind. He turned all that looked safe into danger when he was uncomfortable, when something challenged what he knew. “Don’t you think we could do it? We could get Regulus involved. Runaway, like his brother—”

“Damn it, I said that’s enough,” Evan spat, his voice bitter and sharp, venemous when it landed on Rabastan's skin. It pierced through Rabastan’s words like a knife through flesh. Evan balled his hand into a fist and was absently picking at the grass, gritting his teeth.

“Evan, please-” he cut off his voice. Please. No; Rabastan was supposed to be above please, above begging. Evan was too. They were purebloods, part of the sacred 28. Here he was again; challenging what Evan knew, just with one word, with one movement, shaking and tearing apart his world like it was his own plaything.

Evan scowled, barking out, “You never know when to shut up, Lestrange.”

Rabastan’s smile wavered. The words sank into his skin as needles; pushing deep, diffusing into his blood. Lestrange. The last name didn't haunt him, he quite liked it, but what he hated was the way it latched onto him—onto his skin, his name, his voice, everything that was his was under that cursed name. “I just want us to have more time,” he whispered.

Evan's anger dried up instantly, he watched Rabastan recoil, further away, and for a moment the light of the moon that landed on him was blocked by the clouds, and Rabastan was left in the darkness he hated so much. “We have time,” Evan said.

“Not enough.”

Silence fell over them. Hauntingly; not their usual quiet, peaceful silence. This was the sharp type, posed in weird obtuse angles, unusual, uneasy, uncomfortable. Rabastan didn’t need to be looking Evan in the eyes to know it; the silent ache they both felt for each other was real. He reached forwards, and hesitated.

Evan mumbled under his breath, “how much time would you want?”

“Forever,” Rabastan almost said, but instead he said, “just a little more.”

He sounded desperate, his words sounded like a plea. Evan could hear it too. It made the knot in his stomach tighten. “Evan, don’t you…” his voice trailed off. Evan swallowed, clenching the grass tightly in his hand. The truth was Rabastan didn't have the words to know how to ask what he wanted to say.

Rabastan reached out, finally, taking Evan’s hand in his hands, directing him to look him in the eyes with his other hand by tilting Evan's chin over to look at him him. “Hey, I'm sorry,” he said quietly, Evan felt his heart shatter. What was he apologizing for? “I know that I can get a bit carried away sometimes. I just want us to have a happy ending,” he pulled Evan in closer, and this time Evan didn’t protest, just half-heartedly and tiredly sank into his arms. “Don’t we deserve one?”

“People like us don’t get happy endings, because we don’t deserve them, Rab,” Evan said quietly, his voice half-muffled by Rabastan’s clothes, his face buried in them. “We’re liars, cheats and traitors. We’re the villains. Only heroes get happy endings.”

“Maybe we could make one. Not everything has to be set in stone.”

Evan just sighed. Rabastan’s constant optimism made him sick. Evan had learned at a young age that hope was a weakness, allowing yourself to hope meant allowing yourself to get caught up in a whirlwind of shaky, unsteady and unpredictable emotions. He hated himself for loving Rabastan the way he did, because what they had was just as rocky and unsteady as hope. As fear. As every other driving, leading emotion there was in the playbook. That’s all young love ever was, fluid like water. Something people felt like they couldn’t live without, something strong and sharp but gentle and soft at the same time. It was allowing yourself to be vulnerable. And that was the one thing Evan had sworn to never do.

“You’re crazy,” Evan sighed, shifting deeper into Rabastan’s arms. He had to admit, it was comfy there. Warm. He didn’t want to move.

“For you,” Rabastan sang cheekily, placing a kiss on Evan’s forehead. Evan rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile, it was unbelievable to Evan how Rabastan was such a doofus around him. (He couldn't believe that was the first word that came to mind, either, he hated the way it sounded) He wasn’t ever this cheery or chatty with anyone other than Evan and maybe Rodolphus.

Evan closed his eyes and he thought about it. Running away. Regulus with them, dragging along somewhere behind, rolling his eyes as Rabastan swung an arm around Evan, holding him tight, tracing his fingers over his skin, whispering something into his ears. Rodolphus leading them away, somewhere down a brightly-lit path, maybe in Northern Italy. Or in some countryside in the Netherlands. Rodolphus would move ahead with Antonin Dolohov, a boy Rabastan was sure Rodolphus was seeing secretly.

He looked over at Rabastan, feeling his chest tighten. What they had wasn’t physical, and that’s what bothered Evan a little. How could he feel this way about someone without ever even touching them? Without learning the map of their body and what they liked? That was what had triggered all of his past relationships. They all started at night, in bed. Without that safety net of telling himself that it was just physical, he felt too raw and too exposed. Being alone with Rabastan felt like coming home after a long day at work, felt like throwing away the parts of him that were rotting inside of him. But, it didn't matter anyway, he still couldn’t bring himself to touch him, to taint him with his unholy hands. 

“Do you want to head back?” Rabastan asked quietly, running a hand over Evan's hair.