La Vie Boheme//Fic-ish
We're Gathered Here to Say our Goodbyes
Voldemort was not a man of mourning - but when Fenrir heard that Crouch Jr. had received the Dementor’s Kiss - he was almost tempted to ask for a moment of silence, if nothing else.
Inspiration
For not being a werewolf, Barty Crouch was one of the most sadistic people Fenrir had ever met - it was truly quite inspiring.
Playing Hookey
“The Dark Lord will punish us if we don’t help with that raid, you know,” Barty whispered to the werewolf above him who simply grinned down at him like the maniac he was, “I’ll make it worth it then.”
Making Something out of Nothing
It was a new moon, there were no wands within a mile of here - and yet somehow, Fenrir and Barty still managed to make a gruesome scene of the poor muggle street.
The Need to Express, to Communicate
Greyback stood in front of the jury, looking up at the youngest Crouch and waiting for the sign - a hand rose to his lips and blew a simple kiss - and the werewolf made his escape, nobody knowing about the silent exchange.
Going Against the Grain
“A necklace?” Barty asked as the bloodied, but beautiful, piece of jewelry was presented to him by the kneeling werewolf. Fenrir just smirked up at him and shrugged, “A ring was too cliché.”
Going Insane, Going Mad
Bartemius Crouch Junior was tortured to insanity, just like he did with Longbottoms, although he would tell you that his torture was quite a bit more pleasurable.
Tension
Sixteen years old and having one of the hottest men you had ever seen leaning over you with a disturbed grin on his face was not something that would leave your mind easily. When his father asked why he couldn’t stop fidgeting during dinner, Barty simply grinned sheepishly and sipped his wine.
Starving for Attention
Fenrir growled and scratched at the wooden desk in front of him when he saw Bellatrix Black flirt shamelessly with Barty. Turning to one of the LeStrange brothers, he whispered something in their ear, making him stand up and go over to the woman to charm her in his own way. Nobody tried anything with the Crouch boy except him.
Hating Convention, Hating Pretension
The Senior Crouch looked down at his son in horror when he was pulled, growling like a werewolf, from the stands and presented with the three LeStranges. The crack of wood on wood sentencing his son with the three maniacs to prison, he wondered what the world had come to for this.
Hating Dear old Mom and Dad
When his father snuck into his cell late at night, his sickly mother taking his hair and sipping down a Polyjuice Potion and switching up their clothes - he almost considered forgiving them for locking him up in Azkaban. But with the words “Imperio” being whispered behind his back, he realized he only hated them more.
Riding your Bike Midday past the Three-Piece Suits
“Can you actually ride one of these things?” Fenrir asked, eyeing the metal contraption as if it had crashed down from outer space. Barty just grinned and patted the seat, “Makes for a great ruckus at business parties, care to ride?”
No Absolutes
Fenrir thought that when Barty was convicted to prison that their last encounter would be just that: the last - but when thirteen some years passed and Mad-Eye Moody looked at him with that similar expression, he realized that they might have another chance together.
Being an Us
“Bartemius Greyback - what do you think?” “… Better than Fenrir Crouch I suppose.”
WINE AND BEER!
Fenrir, Barty decided, was a lot harder to control when he was drunk - and quite frankly, he was running out of things to tell his father whenever he winced while taking a seat.
Yoga
Fenrir turned the book over upside-down, trying to figure out what exactly it was he saw, before it was snatched from his hands - “Honestly, it was just a suggestion.”
Leather
The grin that adorned Greyback’s face had not been so wide since he bit Remus Lupin - but if you had what he had lying in front of you right now, clad in nothing but a few strips of flimsy leather - yours would too.
Dildos
“Fenrir. No.”
Emotion
On their dying breaths, people had called him a heartless sociopath, but when he looked at the rich teenager swearing his loyalty to Lord Voldemort, he knew that they were wrong.
Devotion
“What would you do if our Lord tried to kill me?” “I’d ask to join you, in fear that I would serve him less sufficiently should you be gone.”
Causing a Commotion
Fenrir let out a gruff laugh as people screamed in agony, his pack brutally ripping at them even in their human forms, and wished that Barty were here to aid in the mayhem.
Creation
“Pity those two can’t have children,” Voldemort said to Lucius as they walked away from Greyback and Crouch, “They would surpass both myself and Dumbledore in insanity.”
Vacation
Switzerland wasn’t exactly the nicest place in the world, but when on the run from the law with your boyfriend “hunting you down” in the most neutral part of the Wizarding community - it suddenly became an excellent vacation spot.
Mucho Masturbation
“Don’t you think it’s unhealthy for a boy to do… that… as much as he does?” “He’s a teenager, dear, what do you expect?” “Yes, but he makes such a bloody mess of the bathroom afterwards.” “Best not think too much about it, darling.”
Compassion
Fenrir Greyback was not the kind of person to pronounce his feelings of love, but when he saw the only person who those feelings ever even existed for sitting soulless in a cage beside the LeStranges that he was meant to be breaking out - he couldn’t help but feel bad for never saying them before.
Fashion
“Fenrir, I know your clothes are just gonna get all ripped and bloodied - but couldn’t you wear something a bit nicer than that?” “You are such a Nancy boy.”
Passion (When It’s New)
The first time Barty struck up the courage to kiss Fenrir, he was quite sure he was going to die - but instead, the werewolf just laughed and pulled him off to his room.
Anything Taboo
If his father ever figured out where Barty went every night, the trouble he caused for him, and who he spent relishing in it with until the brink of dawn - he would have been lucky to just be locked up in Azkaban.
The Stage!
“Do you think the Dark Lord likes musicals?” Barty asked, getting an odd expression from the werewolf, “I was just asking…”
Over the Rainbow
If there was one thing that Fenrir hated about horrible, full moon, thunderstorms on a good night out - it was the rising of the sun and the colors that filled the sky when it reflected off the moisture. He did, however, get used to them once Barty announced he found them interesting.
Bisexuals
Barty seemed to have a fleeting attraction for women as well; and sometimes when that blasted Black woman sat a bit too close to him he wondered how high he stood in the rich boy’s scale.
Homo Sapiens
“You aren’t really human are you?” “I suppose not, but if the Ministry knew what you were doing now - I doubt they’d see you as one either.”
Hallucinogens
The Dementors sucked away at his joy, Barty knew the stories and facts, but when memories of Fenrir became nothing more than hallucinations in his dreams - he knew he had to get out of Azkaban before he lost it all.
Apathy
Barty was a master of masks, nobody could ever tell what he was truly feeling or thinking - if he was even doing either at all - but sometimes his masks would fall when Fenrir slowly drifted off to sleep beside him.
Entropy
Chaos was a daily part of Fenrir’s life - but when he met Barty Crouch - he began hoping there would be at least one constant.
Empathy
He could never understand the feelings of anybody unlike himself - and even if he wasn’t a werewolf - there was something so dark inside Barty that made him his perfect match.
Ecstasy
Despite what the werewolf might have believed, Barty had never actually slept with the Black sister - in fact, he had never slept with anybody but Fenrir.
No Shame, Never Playing the Fame Game
“If we weren’t Death Eaters in our own rolls, would you ever tell your father you were fucking a werewolf?” “Would you tell your pack you were married to the Crouch heir?” “Yeah, of course.” “Well there is your answer.”
Sodomy
Before he met Fenrir, sex was not a particularly common though to run through Barty’s mind, but when he did - he suddenly realized he hadn’t the slightest clue how it worked.
S & M
“Fenrir, what are those?” “Handcuffs.” “… oh, fine.”
Dance
There were about a million risks in this particular act - but when Fenrir dragged him onto the dance floor in the remote Knockturn bar and moved sensually with the music - all thoughts of the consequences drained from his mind.
No Way to Make a Living
“Why don’t you ever get something nice for yourself?” “I’m a murderer - openly - I don’t have a knut to my name.” “Maybe you should be a Crouch then.”
Masochism
Really, he didn’t think he would ever get off on being bitten and scratched by a man with werewolf blood, but apparently there were things that Fenrir knew about him that even he didn’t.
Pain, Perfection
The Dark Lord had fallen from his greatness in one night, one simple attack on just another family, and it made Barty wonder how long the rest of them would last - but when he asked Fenrir to bite him during the next full moon, the man refused and said there were some things worse than Azkaban.
Short-Careers
Barty never really liked the working scene, he was rich and had no need to work - but Fenrir always loved having a congratulatory party whenever he got fired that made the week or so on the job worth it.
Adventure
“Oh come on Barty, where is your sense of adventure?” “Fenrir, those are meant for a girl!” “I know.”
No Family
As he buried the bones of his father, Barty suddenly realized that as far as anybody knew - there was no longer a Crouch family - and, looking down at the glamoured necklace - he knew that they were technically right.
Perfect Faces
There was a thrill in the kill, a thrill in the pain on people’s faces as he tore them apart or held them to be done so by his Lord, but it wouldn’t be perfect until there was a cure for the Dementor’s Kiss.
Egos
Sometimes it stabbed at his pride that Barty was branded with their Lord’s mark while he remained not a true “Death Eater”, simply some other form of a pathetic lackey - but what annoyed him more was that You-Know-Who’s mark was permanent and nothing the werewolf could do would last forever.
Money
“Son, we have a house elf, why not ask her to heat your steak up for you?” “No mother, that is quite alright - I quite like it better this way.”
Music
Barty grew up in a noble pureblood family that delved in political banter at snobbish parties - so when Fenrir dragged him out to a low class dance club in muggle London, he discovered a fondness of fast-paced, heavy bass music and could never quite adjust to the classics again.
Food of Love
Even while he was threatening this mudblood with her virginity (at least he presumed as much - by her scent), there was a bit of a guilty pull at his heart for even considering being with, even in a non-consensual way, another person now that Barty was a soulless shell.
Isolation
When their Lord fell and Bartemius was found out, along with the LeStranges, Fenrir decided it was finally time to take a break and pulled his pack out from the world, until there were signs of his return again.
Rhythm
“You have no rhythm you know.” “Excuse me for being a werewolf.” “Lupin had rhythm.” “I don’t want to know how you know that.” “Black.” “Bellatrix?” “Sirius.” “… now I really don’t want to know.”
Power
Barty loved the feel of power, throwing down a Crucio upon those pathetic Longbottoms gave him a real rush, but something about this time felt wrong - it was probably nothing though, he thought with a laugh as Bellatrix kicked Alice for good measure. What was the worst that could happen?
Feeling
“What does it feel like to be a werewolf?” “It hurts, but you get used to it. It hurts less if you let it take over outside of the full moon.” “Would you become a human if a cure were invented?” “It’s been too long, I can’t remember what it feels like.”
Harmony
Greyback looked up at the woman he so detested, wearing a white dress robe and standing at an alter with Rodolphus LeStrange and coming together in holy matrimony or whatever it was they believed they were doing. It seemed stupid really, but even if she never got her hands on Barty - she still had something he never would.
Heavy Competition
Fenrir grinned as Bellatrix LeStrange (as of quite recently) leaned across the table to their Lord and flirted the way she used to with Barty - ignoring her brother-in-law’s fuming protests. He loved a bit of competition, but when it came to Crouch, he was quite happy to see her gone.
ANARCHY!
Most of the Death Eaters just smirked in an aristocratic way whenever their Lord had another victory, one of many - but Fenrir, Barty, and the occasional quip from the Black sister always showed the truest feelings of triumph.
Revolution
“What would you do if our Lord tried to kill me?” “Turn him into my father on a silver platter and give up the names of every pureblood family in Britain, of course.” “Hn, good way to get revenge and start a war.” “Two birds with one stone, as the muggles say.”
Forcing Changes
Their Lord was one who enjoyed change, even when he had all that he could desire there was always something wrong with it - but Barty had all that he could hope for and would never change a thing.
Risk and Danger
Fenrir knew this was the end of the line for him - the Death Eaters were dying left and right and even being cornered by two of the least likely wizards to ever defeat him - but the memory of Barty staring up blankly at him in an Azkaban cell didn’t make it hurt as much to fail.
Making Noise and Making Pleas
Bartemius wasn’t a naturally submissive man, but the sheer alpha power that Fenrir gave off could make even him whine and beg for more.
Faggots
“Does the Lord have anything against homosexuality? Hardly keeps bloodlines going.” “Have you noticed what he and Lucius do?” “No, why?” “… sometimes, I wonder how you could be a Death Eater.”
Lezzies, Dykes
Fenrir opened, and then quickly shut, the door to the LeStrange manor - grinning idiotically as he did so. Apparently, Barty wasn’t the only one who swung both ways - although he never really thought that Bellatrix would go for a Zabini.
Crossdressers Too!
“You know I am not gonna wear that.” “What? Is the skirt too short for your liking?” “No, but you stole it from a Hufflepuff, at least let me steal one of Bella’s uniforms.”
To People Living with, Living with, Living with, Not Dying from Disease
“The Ministry decreed that lycanthropy was a disease today.” “Did they say if it was fatal?” “Only to others.”
Let He Among Us Without Sin
“Bellatrix.” “Yes?” “Hurt Potter for me.” “Can do.”
Be the First to Condemn
Bellatrix LeStrange, he used to hate her for being the shameless flirt she was, but he had to give her credit: killing off her own cousin and not getting Crucio-ed for flirting with the Dark Lord all in the same day was quite an accomplishment.
Anyone out of the Mainstream
Bartemius looked at the Death Eaters standing by as he received his mark - most of them were pureblood prudes or deranged psychopaths. Looked like he’d fit in just fine, then.
Anyone alive with a Sex Drive
Barty was probably not considered the most attractive person alive, hell he probably wasn’t even considered as much in the Death Eaters when Lucius Malfoy was standing beside their Lord, but there was something about his tongue, the way he flicked it out nervously every now and then, that made him a lot more appealing than their Lord’s plaything
Tear Down the Wall
“Was that really necessary Fenrir?” “I thought it would serve as a dramatic entrance.”
The Opposite of War Isn’t Peace
“They say they want to end the war, but all they do is kill and fight despite that.” “Even on the light side, they know there is no such thing as peace - just a pause between wars.”
It’s Creation!
Fenrir remembered biting into the small child, the one he later learned to be Remus Lupin, and how he knew it felt different from a kill - in fact, it almost felt like he was giving the child life. Perhaps he could find a child to sire as his own, although perhaps not as a werewolf like himself.
Viva La Vie
Voldemort smirked when he noticed the necklaces adorning Fenrir and Barty’s necks - knowing what they symbolized to the two men - and laughed. Of all his Death Eaters, those two were amongst the only ones he’d thought would never really live life, fate was more ironic than he thought.
Voldemort was not a man of mourning - but when Fenrir heard that Crouch Jr. had received the Dementor’s Kiss - he was almost tempted to ask for a moment of silence, if nothing else.
Inspiration
For not being a werewolf, Barty Crouch was one of the most sadistic people Fenrir had ever met - it was truly quite inspiring.
Playing Hookey
“The Dark Lord will punish us if we don’t help with that raid, you know,” Barty whispered to the werewolf above him who simply grinned down at him like the maniac he was, “I’ll make it worth it then.”
Making Something out of Nothing
It was a new moon, there were no wands within a mile of here - and yet somehow, Fenrir and Barty still managed to make a gruesome scene of the poor muggle street.
The Need to Express, to Communicate
Greyback stood in front of the jury, looking up at the youngest Crouch and waiting for the sign - a hand rose to his lips and blew a simple kiss - and the werewolf made his escape, nobody knowing about the silent exchange.
Going Against the Grain
“A necklace?” Barty asked as the bloodied, but beautiful, piece of jewelry was presented to him by the kneeling werewolf. Fenrir just smirked up at him and shrugged, “A ring was too cliché.”
Going Insane, Going Mad
Bartemius Crouch Junior was tortured to insanity, just like he did with Longbottoms, although he would tell you that his torture was quite a bit more pleasurable.
Tension
Sixteen years old and having one of the hottest men you had ever seen leaning over you with a disturbed grin on his face was not something that would leave your mind easily. When his father asked why he couldn’t stop fidgeting during dinner, Barty simply grinned sheepishly and sipped his wine.
Starving for Attention
Fenrir growled and scratched at the wooden desk in front of him when he saw Bellatrix Black flirt shamelessly with Barty. Turning to one of the LeStrange brothers, he whispered something in their ear, making him stand up and go over to the woman to charm her in his own way. Nobody tried anything with the Crouch boy except him.
Hating Convention, Hating Pretension
The Senior Crouch looked down at his son in horror when he was pulled, growling like a werewolf, from the stands and presented with the three LeStranges. The crack of wood on wood sentencing his son with the three maniacs to prison, he wondered what the world had come to for this.
Hating Dear old Mom and Dad
When his father snuck into his cell late at night, his sickly mother taking his hair and sipping down a Polyjuice Potion and switching up their clothes - he almost considered forgiving them for locking him up in Azkaban. But with the words “Imperio” being whispered behind his back, he realized he only hated them more.
Riding your Bike Midday past the Three-Piece Suits
“Can you actually ride one of these things?” Fenrir asked, eyeing the metal contraption as if it had crashed down from outer space. Barty just grinned and patted the seat, “Makes for a great ruckus at business parties, care to ride?”
No Absolutes
Fenrir thought that when Barty was convicted to prison that their last encounter would be just that: the last - but when thirteen some years passed and Mad-Eye Moody looked at him with that similar expression, he realized that they might have another chance together.
Being an Us
“Bartemius Greyback - what do you think?” “… Better than Fenrir Crouch I suppose.”
WINE AND BEER!
Fenrir, Barty decided, was a lot harder to control when he was drunk - and quite frankly, he was running out of things to tell his father whenever he winced while taking a seat.
Yoga
Fenrir turned the book over upside-down, trying to figure out what exactly it was he saw, before it was snatched from his hands - “Honestly, it was just a suggestion.”
Leather
The grin that adorned Greyback’s face had not been so wide since he bit Remus Lupin - but if you had what he had lying in front of you right now, clad in nothing but a few strips of flimsy leather - yours would too.
Dildos
“Fenrir. No.”
Emotion
On their dying breaths, people had called him a heartless sociopath, but when he looked at the rich teenager swearing his loyalty to Lord Voldemort, he knew that they were wrong.
Devotion
“What would you do if our Lord tried to kill me?” “I’d ask to join you, in fear that I would serve him less sufficiently should you be gone.”
Causing a Commotion
Fenrir let out a gruff laugh as people screamed in agony, his pack brutally ripping at them even in their human forms, and wished that Barty were here to aid in the mayhem.
Creation
“Pity those two can’t have children,” Voldemort said to Lucius as they walked away from Greyback and Crouch, “They would surpass both myself and Dumbledore in insanity.”
Vacation
Switzerland wasn’t exactly the nicest place in the world, but when on the run from the law with your boyfriend “hunting you down” in the most neutral part of the Wizarding community - it suddenly became an excellent vacation spot.
Mucho Masturbation
“Don’t you think it’s unhealthy for a boy to do… that… as much as he does?” “He’s a teenager, dear, what do you expect?” “Yes, but he makes such a bloody mess of the bathroom afterwards.” “Best not think too much about it, darling.”
Compassion
Fenrir Greyback was not the kind of person to pronounce his feelings of love, but when he saw the only person who those feelings ever even existed for sitting soulless in a cage beside the LeStranges that he was meant to be breaking out - he couldn’t help but feel bad for never saying them before.
Fashion
“Fenrir, I know your clothes are just gonna get all ripped and bloodied - but couldn’t you wear something a bit nicer than that?” “You are such a Nancy boy.”
Passion (When It’s New)
The first time Barty struck up the courage to kiss Fenrir, he was quite sure he was going to die - but instead, the werewolf just laughed and pulled him off to his room.
Anything Taboo
If his father ever figured out where Barty went every night, the trouble he caused for him, and who he spent relishing in it with until the brink of dawn - he would have been lucky to just be locked up in Azkaban.
The Stage!
“Do you think the Dark Lord likes musicals?” Barty asked, getting an odd expression from the werewolf, “I was just asking…”
Over the Rainbow
If there was one thing that Fenrir hated about horrible, full moon, thunderstorms on a good night out - it was the rising of the sun and the colors that filled the sky when it reflected off the moisture. He did, however, get used to them once Barty announced he found them interesting.
Bisexuals
Barty seemed to have a fleeting attraction for women as well; and sometimes when that blasted Black woman sat a bit too close to him he wondered how high he stood in the rich boy’s scale.
Homo Sapiens
“You aren’t really human are you?” “I suppose not, but if the Ministry knew what you were doing now - I doubt they’d see you as one either.”
Hallucinogens
The Dementors sucked away at his joy, Barty knew the stories and facts, but when memories of Fenrir became nothing more than hallucinations in his dreams - he knew he had to get out of Azkaban before he lost it all.
Apathy
Barty was a master of masks, nobody could ever tell what he was truly feeling or thinking - if he was even doing either at all - but sometimes his masks would fall when Fenrir slowly drifted off to sleep beside him.
Entropy
Chaos was a daily part of Fenrir’s life - but when he met Barty Crouch - he began hoping there would be at least one constant.
Empathy
He could never understand the feelings of anybody unlike himself - and even if he wasn’t a werewolf - there was something so dark inside Barty that made him his perfect match.
Ecstasy
Despite what the werewolf might have believed, Barty had never actually slept with the Black sister - in fact, he had never slept with anybody but Fenrir.
No Shame, Never Playing the Fame Game
“If we weren’t Death Eaters in our own rolls, would you ever tell your father you were fucking a werewolf?” “Would you tell your pack you were married to the Crouch heir?” “Yeah, of course.” “Well there is your answer.”
Sodomy
Before he met Fenrir, sex was not a particularly common though to run through Barty’s mind, but when he did - he suddenly realized he hadn’t the slightest clue how it worked.
S & M
“Fenrir, what are those?” “Handcuffs.” “… oh, fine.”
Dance
There were about a million risks in this particular act - but when Fenrir dragged him onto the dance floor in the remote Knockturn bar and moved sensually with the music - all thoughts of the consequences drained from his mind.
No Way to Make a Living
“Why don’t you ever get something nice for yourself?” “I’m a murderer - openly - I don’t have a knut to my name.” “Maybe you should be a Crouch then.”
Masochism
Really, he didn’t think he would ever get off on being bitten and scratched by a man with werewolf blood, but apparently there were things that Fenrir knew about him that even he didn’t.
Pain, Perfection
The Dark Lord had fallen from his greatness in one night, one simple attack on just another family, and it made Barty wonder how long the rest of them would last - but when he asked Fenrir to bite him during the next full moon, the man refused and said there were some things worse than Azkaban.
Short-Careers
Barty never really liked the working scene, he was rich and had no need to work - but Fenrir always loved having a congratulatory party whenever he got fired that made the week or so on the job worth it.
Adventure
“Oh come on Barty, where is your sense of adventure?” “Fenrir, those are meant for a girl!” “I know.”
No Family
As he buried the bones of his father, Barty suddenly realized that as far as anybody knew - there was no longer a Crouch family - and, looking down at the glamoured necklace - he knew that they were technically right.
Perfect Faces
There was a thrill in the kill, a thrill in the pain on people’s faces as he tore them apart or held them to be done so by his Lord, but it wouldn’t be perfect until there was a cure for the Dementor’s Kiss.
Egos
Sometimes it stabbed at his pride that Barty was branded with their Lord’s mark while he remained not a true “Death Eater”, simply some other form of a pathetic lackey - but what annoyed him more was that You-Know-Who’s mark was permanent and nothing the werewolf could do would last forever.
Money
“Son, we have a house elf, why not ask her to heat your steak up for you?” “No mother, that is quite alright - I quite like it better this way.”
Music
Barty grew up in a noble pureblood family that delved in political banter at snobbish parties - so when Fenrir dragged him out to a low class dance club in muggle London, he discovered a fondness of fast-paced, heavy bass music and could never quite adjust to the classics again.
Food of Love
Even while he was threatening this mudblood with her virginity (at least he presumed as much - by her scent), there was a bit of a guilty pull at his heart for even considering being with, even in a non-consensual way, another person now that Barty was a soulless shell.
Isolation
When their Lord fell and Bartemius was found out, along with the LeStranges, Fenrir decided it was finally time to take a break and pulled his pack out from the world, until there were signs of his return again.
Rhythm
“You have no rhythm you know.” “Excuse me for being a werewolf.” “Lupin had rhythm.” “I don’t want to know how you know that.” “Black.” “Bellatrix?” “Sirius.” “… now I really don’t want to know.”
Power
Barty loved the feel of power, throwing down a Crucio upon those pathetic Longbottoms gave him a real rush, but something about this time felt wrong - it was probably nothing though, he thought with a laugh as Bellatrix kicked Alice for good measure. What was the worst that could happen?
Feeling
“What does it feel like to be a werewolf?” “It hurts, but you get used to it. It hurts less if you let it take over outside of the full moon.” “Would you become a human if a cure were invented?” “It’s been too long, I can’t remember what it feels like.”
Harmony
Greyback looked up at the woman he so detested, wearing a white dress robe and standing at an alter with Rodolphus LeStrange and coming together in holy matrimony or whatever it was they believed they were doing. It seemed stupid really, but even if she never got her hands on Barty - she still had something he never would.
Heavy Competition
Fenrir grinned as Bellatrix LeStrange (as of quite recently) leaned across the table to their Lord and flirted the way she used to with Barty - ignoring her brother-in-law’s fuming protests. He loved a bit of competition, but when it came to Crouch, he was quite happy to see her gone.
ANARCHY!
Most of the Death Eaters just smirked in an aristocratic way whenever their Lord had another victory, one of many - but Fenrir, Barty, and the occasional quip from the Black sister always showed the truest feelings of triumph.
Revolution
“What would you do if our Lord tried to kill me?” “Turn him into my father on a silver platter and give up the names of every pureblood family in Britain, of course.” “Hn, good way to get revenge and start a war.” “Two birds with one stone, as the muggles say.”
Forcing Changes
Their Lord was one who enjoyed change, even when he had all that he could desire there was always something wrong with it - but Barty had all that he could hope for and would never change a thing.
Risk and Danger
Fenrir knew this was the end of the line for him - the Death Eaters were dying left and right and even being cornered by two of the least likely wizards to ever defeat him - but the memory of Barty staring up blankly at him in an Azkaban cell didn’t make it hurt as much to fail.
Making Noise and Making Pleas
Bartemius wasn’t a naturally submissive man, but the sheer alpha power that Fenrir gave off could make even him whine and beg for more.
Faggots
“Does the Lord have anything against homosexuality? Hardly keeps bloodlines going.” “Have you noticed what he and Lucius do?” “No, why?” “… sometimes, I wonder how you could be a Death Eater.”
Lezzies, Dykes
Fenrir opened, and then quickly shut, the door to the LeStrange manor - grinning idiotically as he did so. Apparently, Barty wasn’t the only one who swung both ways - although he never really thought that Bellatrix would go for a Zabini.
Crossdressers Too!
“You know I am not gonna wear that.” “What? Is the skirt too short for your liking?” “No, but you stole it from a Hufflepuff, at least let me steal one of Bella’s uniforms.”
To People Living with, Living with, Living with, Not Dying from Disease
“The Ministry decreed that lycanthropy was a disease today.” “Did they say if it was fatal?” “Only to others.”
Let He Among Us Without Sin
“Bellatrix.” “Yes?” “Hurt Potter for me.” “Can do.”
Be the First to Condemn
Bellatrix LeStrange, he used to hate her for being the shameless flirt she was, but he had to give her credit: killing off her own cousin and not getting Crucio-ed for flirting with the Dark Lord all in the same day was quite an accomplishment.
Anyone out of the Mainstream
Bartemius looked at the Death Eaters standing by as he received his mark - most of them were pureblood prudes or deranged psychopaths. Looked like he’d fit in just fine, then.
Anyone alive with a Sex Drive
Barty was probably not considered the most attractive person alive, hell he probably wasn’t even considered as much in the Death Eaters when Lucius Malfoy was standing beside their Lord, but there was something about his tongue, the way he flicked it out nervously every now and then, that made him a lot more appealing than their Lord’s plaything
Tear Down the Wall
“Was that really necessary Fenrir?” “I thought it would serve as a dramatic entrance.”
The Opposite of War Isn’t Peace
“They say they want to end the war, but all they do is kill and fight despite that.” “Even on the light side, they know there is no such thing as peace - just a pause between wars.”
It’s Creation!
Fenrir remembered biting into the small child, the one he later learned to be Remus Lupin, and how he knew it felt different from a kill - in fact, it almost felt like he was giving the child life. Perhaps he could find a child to sire as his own, although perhaps not as a werewolf like himself.
Viva La Vie
Voldemort smirked when he noticed the necklaces adorning Fenrir and Barty’s necks - knowing what they symbolized to the two men - and laughed. Of all his Death Eaters, those two were amongst the only ones he’d thought would never really live life, fate was more ironic than he thought.