Kaz "the Dentist Suggested Me To Bite, So I Bit Him" Brekker.

Kaz "the dentist suggested me to bite, so i bit him" Brekker.

And when the clock struck midnight, after all it was Kaz Rietveld in the shoes of Brekker looking at a shadow with vulnerable eyes, searching for the magic ... but through the eyes of a hard spoken man named Kaz Brekker, he only saw Inej spying on his rich thoughts like a shadow in the dark.

Rosekiller would play Parkour Chase Tag.

Rules are simple.

Runner: Run.

Chaser: Chase.

However there is a change at the end.

•The chaser catches and kisses the runner.

Regulus: Stop blackmailing.

Barty: I don't blackmail. I mail the white stuff.

Regulus: What's the white stuff?

Evan: ...

Barty: ...

Regulus: ...

Barty: Evan, why not explain him?

Regulus (realizing): NO.

Imagine Jesper Fahey with a machine gun.

RIP the pigeons.

@rosekillermicrofic | Word count:~250 | 3 June | Prompt- wicked

The dormitory was tired and muted after a long and stretched day. Evan pulled open his robe and climbed onto his bed in a sharp move after spending the whole evening in detention. Barty could sketch out the tension in the bed next to his.

He slipped down and tip toed to Evan's bed and slowly lifted a loose length of the cloth shutter.

Evan was laid down with a pillow beneath his head and a pillow over his mouth that was pressed so hardly, as if the purpose was to suffocate.

Barty pulled the pillow from his face, with much strength. Evan looked at him with annoyed eyes. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Was the detention that terrible?", Barty slouched over the bed sheet.

Evan replied a muffled "No."

Barty nodded softly. He knew that the days were going hard for Evan. The day before, he got into a fight with a Ravenclaw at Hogshead. That guy made a serious note on his sister. If Barty would have been there, he might have done the same thing; make the Ravenclaw boy bleed his gums out. But Evan had to take detention as a consequence.

"What are you doing here, on my bed?", Evan asked. The hint of irritation clear in his voice.

"Well, I can't sleep", Barty lied with a doll face. But he wondered whether Evan himself could sleep. He crept closer to the Rosier boy and somehow, he could feel the anxiousness sedating.

"Count sheeps", Evan suggested as he scrunched up his face inocently.

Barty shook his head, "I do not see them. I only see you."

Evan sighed, "Then count my hair." He pressed his head against the pillow, shutting his eyes with a suppressed huff.

"Already counted", Barty moved closer to the pressed silhouette.

"How many?", Evan breathed, his voice clouding with either sleep or cold.

"Zero", Barty said, skating his fingers through Evan's bleached hair.

Evan peeped open an eye, "Are you insulting me, Mister?"

"Yes", Barty whispered. He could smell the scent of Evan as he drew himself closer to the tall torso.

"That is so wicked", Evan gestured a slight punch. Then he smiled. And when he breathed, they both inhaled together simultaneously, like a single soul, like the two flapping wings of a bird.

"So am I", Barty wrapped his hands around the well marked thorax of the laid man, then he pressed his lips against Evan's yester- bruised rough and red lips.

Evan suddenly felt an invisible energy melting the cold and igniting the heat in him.