#and i fucking give one to him

[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.

[humming-fly]

was anyone gonna tell me shadow saved rouge's life in sa2 or was I just supposed to find that out playing the game myself

(this worked out as a rather fitting closer for the Final Day in Year of Shadow haha, hope ya'll have a fun new year! 🎉🎉🎉)

[lotus-pear]

he's so crazy we can't take him anywhere 😭🤣

[apollos-boyfriend]

just saw a clip where f1nn5ter was saying how at this point, he can’t be cis, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel like he’s trans—he’s just neither. and someone in chat was like “you can’t be neither cis nor trans that’s not how it works” i love finn but why is his chat so fucking bad 😭 stop recreating binaries for the love of god, identity does not have to fall into these neat little boxes for you to police

[datcravat]

It seems there's a new lawyer in town!!!

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[the-rodent-gentleman]

All rise for the Big Daddy of Wrath

And as a bonus:

[mochasucculent]

Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in

[super-max-verstappen]

I just realized that with all the rookies entering the sport next year, Fernando Alonso will have been in F1 longer than 5 of his fellow drivers have been ALIVE

Alonso has more F1 experience than Piastri, Lawson, Doohan, Bearman, Antonelli, and Colapinto have life experience.

He will have spent more time in F1 than 25% of the grid have spent breathing. Bro really is HIM

[holographings]

my softest, beigest pillow

[thecmaly]

really? right in front of my karaage?

-

more windbreaker comics

[island-in-the-shadows]

When you really think about it, Daniel Molloy being a vampire is objectively terrifying. This is a guy who, as a mortal:

- Followed a stranger to a second location in peak serial killer era California.

- Was down to fuck in a coffin.

- Was down for fangs in his neck.

- Consistently interviewed dangerous or powerful people and was antagonistic to them.

- Literally never stopped when on the hunt for a story to the point it destroyed his personal life.

- Got on a plane in the middle of a pandemic with a degenerative disease because the guy he barely remembers following to some place on Divisadero, who he knows is an immortal killing machine, is offering Daniel his story and this also means Daniel could get some clarity on his fucked up memory.

- Has a big fucking mouth. He will just say fucking anything regardless of it being inappropriate.

- Has a fantastic bullshit radar.

- Beat a professional gaslighter at 3D chess.

...and then said powerful 514yo gaslighter gives this man litres of his, essentially, untouched blood and makes him his fledgling? Like...INSANE.

Daniel is, no doubt, EXTREMELY powerful and with a personality type that will probably make him a good vampire. Absolutely terrifying...and hot. God I hope he's still "sun challenged."

[micamone]

hewwo

[mamawasatesttube]

the whole "jason rules crime alley and none of the other bats are allowed there!!1!" thing is so funny like. tim LITERALLY lives in the theater where bruce's parents died,

[princema-k]

ha ha ha wheeeee

(individual smaller expressions under the cut!!)

bonus:

if a total of Two (2) people are interested i will ramble abt my hcs abt layton's emotions REQUIREMENTS HAVE BEEN FULFILLED!!! check here for my rambles :)

[lotus-pear]

the besties are back in action