#alluded to

[bobokitty]

Starscream is, if anything, attractive.

…I have lost my train of thought

Kind of a follow up to this

[incorrect-hot-crispy-dazzling]

[thepearlyleviathan]

First Glimpse of Her

1

[bow-of-aros]

Then Beg

Summary:

“Please, Owen,” Curt gathered his partner’s hands in his own hopefully, “Please, I’m begging you.” Something in the air shifted and Owen slowly withdrew his hands from Curt’s. “Are you?” He cocked his head, “In my opinion, if you were begging, you’d be on your knees.”

Hi folks! I'm swamped with assignments and trying to beat writer's block off with a stick, so this is just something small to keep the creative juices flowing. It's yet another fix-it fic because apparently I can't write anything else for these two and also Owen deserves a hug. If it's bad, no it's not I just refuse to edit it. Hope that y'all enjoy!! <33

Special Agent Curt Mega let his gun clatter to the ground. It went against all his training, against every instinct screaming at him to pull the trigger and finish the job. He was never going to be able though, was he? No matter how many times he told himself that this wasn’t Owen, that the Owen he’d known had died due to his arrogance four years ago, Curt couldn’t bring himself to separate the man he used to be from the man standing in front of him.

For his part, Owen watched the gun fall with mild curiosity, either completely unsurprised or doing an excellent job of hiding it. For all Curt knew, this could’ve been one of the many outcomes Owen had expected and planned for, and he was simply waiting to see how it turned out.

“I won’t.” Curt’s voice echoed through the room, “I won’t do it.”

A small sigh escaped Owen’s lips, the small noise carrying impossible weight, “Won’t do what, Curt? What sort of holier-than-thou bullshit are you going to pull this time?”

And God. In that moment he sounded so much like the Owen that Curt had once known, the Owen that Curt had fallen in love with and grieved all those years ago, that it hurt. Flashes of missions sounded in that question, the fond exasperation now replaced with a weariness that Curt ached to hear.

Now that he’d noticed it, Curt couldn’t help but recognize the other ways in which his partner had changed. His already perfect posture had taken on a forced quality, like the gentleman charm that had used to come so effortlessly to him was now being dredged up by force. Like with every breath that Owen took, he had to remind himself to stand tall, to not show weakness.

That’s what happens when you have to put your body back together after falling several stories and then being exploded by a bomb detonated too early. Not to mention everything he probably went through afterward, waiting for you to come save him while you were too busy drinking and feeling sorry for yourself.

The thought came unbidden, and Curt let it twist the knife already buried hilt-deep in his chest. He’d done this to Owen, he deserved the pain that came with that knowledge.

There are other things. Smaller things. Like a few extra wrinkles around his eyes, scars that weren’t from their missions together, a slower drawl to his voice alongside just the slightest softening of the accent that Curt had loved.

All things that Curt hadn’t been there to see.

“I’m not going to kill you, Owen. I can’t.” Curt sucked in a shuddering breath, “I won’t.”

And Owen laughed at him. It was jarring because that, at least, hadn’t changed. He’d always laughed with his whole body, as though the mirth simply couldn’t be contained in him. Currently, he was folded over at the waist, wiping away tears from where they’d gathered as his laughter took on a manic tinge.

Curt hesitantly leaned in, “Uh, Owen? What—”

“Why the fuck not?” Owen was looking back down at him, a wild gleam in his eyes, “You’ve already done it once! It didn’t seem too difficult from where I was standing. Or, well, falling. Why don’t you just do us both a favour and put me out of my misery?”

All energy had seeped out of him by the end of his plea, and Owen was leaning on the railing, gazing down with what almost seemed like longing.

Curt had never been more terrified than he was at that moment.

Curt took a step forward, empty hands held out in front of him. “Owen, no. Just come back with me, we can figure things out! It’ll be just like old times, alright?”

That snapped Owen out of whatever was going on and he straightened back up, glaring down at Curt as though he hadn’t just asked him to kill him.

“Curt, I am never going back with you, okay? You left me. You watched me fall because of something you did and you didn’t even try to come back for me.” Owen dragged a hand across his face in a desperate attempt to reign himself back in, “You don’t get to say that things can ever be the same because they can’t. Not after what you did.”

And he’s right. Curt could never really make up for what he did, but he could damn well try.

Owen was tired, that much was obvious. He was worn down to the bone and barely had enough to keep on going. It was as though all that anger that had kept him going had just gone up in smoke and he was left with a few smouldering coals.

He stepped forward again, now just one step below Owen, and he noticed one final thing.

The spark in his eyes was gone, and that hurt more than anything else.

“Please, Owen,” Curt gathered his partner’s hands in his own hopefully, “Please, I’m begging you.”

Something in the air shifted and Owen slowly withdrew his hands from Curt’s.

“Are you?” He cocked his head, “In my opinion, if you were begging, you’d be on your knees.”

Well, that wasn’t a no, and Curt Mega had lost the last of his dignity in the weeks following the death of the only person he’d ever loved.

So he sunk down to his knees.

The cold metal stairs bit into his legs and something pressed into a bruise that hurt like a bitch, but Curt never looked away from Owen’s face. His mouth had fallen slightly open, the first sign of shock finally making itself known.

Of course, Owen hadn’t expected Curt Mega to debase himself like this, to physically lower himself to Owen’s feet.

Owen should know that he’s not the only one who’s changed. Curt spent every waking, and most sleeping, moment wishing for just one more chance. He vowed that he would do anything for Owen, would march right into Hell if it would give him even the smallest opportunity to fix what he’d broken.

He was going to do everything he hadn’t on that staircase four years ago.

“Owen,” Curt began, “I’m on my knees, I am begging you to come back with me. I fucked up. I made mistakes on mistakes and you took the fall for it.”

Literally, a voice whispers. Curt decides not to say that out loud.

“I spent four years grieving you, all I wanted was to go back and change everything, to just listen to you for once in my goddamn life. I know I can’t even begin to make it up to you but I’m sure as hell going to try.”

Owen still hadn’t moved, looking down at him with an indistinguishable expression. He didn’t try to say anything which worked just fine for Curt because he wasn’t finished.

“I’m listening to you now, Owe,” A hitch to his breath, a glimmer in his eye, “I heard everything you said about acting. About falling so deep into a role that it consumes you. And this?” Curt gestured around them, “This isn’t you!”

A huff, “It’s been a long time, Curt. I’m not the man you thought you knew.”

He looked almost sad as he said it, and that’s when Curt knew that he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t run away again.

“Maybe not, but I still know you. I know how you wrap yourself up so tightly in someone else’s skin because it’s safer. I know.” Alright, this position is really starting to hurt, time to wrap this up, “You don’t have to be him anymore. The Deadliest Man or whatever you called yourself isn’t going to protect you anymore. You are Owen Carvour. You’re brave and intelligent and you chose this life so that you could protect others. You don’t kill for the sake of it, certainly not 1147 people.”

“Oh please, Curt,” Owen’s voice cut through his speech, “You should know by now that that’s a fabrication. What use would killing young women serve me? It simply solidified my status as someone to be feared, someone who’d left his heart behind long ago.”

He reached down a hand to Curt, a tentative step in the next direction.

Curt took it.

“Exactly!” Curt moved so that he was standing on the same step as Owen, close enough that he could feel the stuttering puffs of air against his face, “You don’t have to be him anymore! I know that I fucked up. I know that you might never trust me again. But I am begging you to at least let me try.”

Silence rang. Curt was studying Owen’s face so intensely that he could see when something shifted. When the mask finally dropped.

The Deadliest Man no longer stood in front of him. There was no more rage, or cruelty, or fight, really. All that was left was a man with a broken heart and a broken body who’d spent the last four years doing anything he had to in order to survive.

Tears filled Owen’s eyes, and he let them fall as he gave a small nod.

Curt pulled him in without hesitation, cradling him to his chest despite the height difference. He rubbed a hand soothingly down his back as he cried, wincing when he could feel the knobs of his spine, the way his ribs jutted out just slightly.

“I’m—I’m just,” Owen’s voice cracked and Curt held him tighter, “I’m just so tired, Curt. I can’t bloody do this anymore.”

Gently, carefully, Curt pressed a kiss to Owen’s forehead, trying to pour all the love and relief he felt into that single action. Everything was worth it when Owen sunk into his arms just a little more.

“You don’t have to, okay? I’ve got you now. I’m never going to leave you behind again, I promise.”

And there, on a staircase not dissimilar to the one from four years ago, Curt vowed that he’d never let Owen fall again. He would always be there to catch him.

[ohlookitsmorgan]

i had melatonin gummy gn

[br1ghtestlight]

its always been funny to me that despite not having a confirmed reason why louise wears her bunny ears until the movie in SEASON THREE when logan steals louise's ears and she uses a scary biker gang to get them back linda points this out and says "you did all that without your bunny ears maybe you don't need them anymore??" which was an obvious reference to louise wearing them for reasons relating to anxiety. but nobody clocked that for some reason

[artsycookie]

Sometimes I wonder how much of Eternal Sugar’s backstory was Shadow Milk’s fault

[spicyraeman]

playing dress up again

[howlsnteeth]

24/05/2020

[daeyumi]

“Remember when…”

[barblaz-arts]

Headcanon: one of the first things Vaggie did to reclaim an identity for herself outside of being heaven's soldier is to try more feminine clothing, something she never used to let herself wear because it's impractical for a fighter(like growing her hair). It was an awkward transition, but Charlie's very enthusiastic encouragement helped Vaggie love her new look.

[punishedgwyndolin]

the thing imo is that a lot of (primarily tme, often cis but many trans and nb as well) people who find themselves strongly attracted to transfemininized men* like femboys and eggs or other gnc expressions come from a place of desiring a degraded masculinity defanged and made more approachable by proximity to womanhood; which is why it’s not uncommon to hear about people’s interest in their transfem lovers drying up once they start more actively identifying and presenting as women away from manhood

[wabbitears]

BLOCKTALES TODAY!!!!!!

in honor of demo 4's release its about fucking time I drew my absolute favorite part of this game. The part that made me completely lose it and changed my brain chemistry forever. FUCKKKKKKKKK I LOVE DREAM WORLD AND THE EMBODIMENTS A NORMAL AMOUNT. AAAAAAA

[xxplastic-cubexx]

filler

[t4tails]

in general when youre a fan of a franchise thats a major pop cultural force you have to recognize that 90% of people's perception of it will be exclusively based on their memory of it as a small child and/or osmosis through other people. everybody knows who batman is, but comparably barely anybody nowadays actually reads batman comics and knows anything about his lore and supporting cast. there's disconnect between them as actual characters written by real people and the metaphysical ideas that theyre associated with to the average person. this is something you need to take into account regarding any kind of analysis about their effect on larger culture, as well as when just kind of existing around people who arent huge fans (especially with united states superhero comics, because theyve existed for almost a century, so the time for perception to drift is even longer than average.) when the average person makes a joke or a comment on batman, theyre not referring to batman as currently being published by dc comics - theyre referring to the concept of batman created by 85+ years of the telephone game

[cry-ptidd]

The Weird Sisters, interpretations, stories and design ideas.

Creative process in the tags