#it's the reason torture tango hits as hard as it does

[scootersscooter]

THIS!!! The reason Curt's motivations and actions throughout the show hold any weight at all is because of his and Owen's love and affection for one another. To act like Owen belittled and berated Curt pre-fall fundamentally undermines the characters and themes of the show.

THEY ENABLE EACH OTHER!

They're both the best spies in their respective agencies, they live for the thrill and the rush of the job. When Curt asks for how long that other mission took them, Owen answers and tells Curt that he doesn't like the look in his eyes, to which Curt responds playfully with "you love it". When Curt suggests they try to go from 6 minutes to 5 minutes Owen doesn't hesitate to suggest they try for 4 minutes, which we all know is where Curt's ego gets the best of him and he secretly sets the timer to 3 minutes.

The reason Owen post-fall is so hell bent on dismantling everything Curt's worked for is because of how much he loved him. Imagine seeing the recklessness of your beloved, of the man you love, a trait so core to his being, something you've laughingly embraced and enabled, become your downfall. Because THAT'S what led to Owen's almost demise. Imagine the haunting thought of his complete faith in his partner being replaced by a festering hatred as Curt runs away and leaves him for dead in that weapons facility.

It's the reason Curt is so cautious, so paranoid after Owen's "death". The reason that when he returns to being a spy he can't seem to return to his old lifestyle. He isn't cool or suave; when he fails (like when he loses the bomb to Tatiana) he tries to play it off like it was a calculated risk, knowing damn well he hasn't moved on enough to consider making moves like that again or is even a good enough spy to attempt ACTUALLY doing that. He isn't the spy he used to be, he can't be. He's actively holding himself back from achieving that same status even though he tells himself that it's what he wants, because it's what lost him Owen. The only times Curt is truly "reckless" are when he refuses help, trying not to get attached, willing to lose his life before anyone else's.

He drove himself to drink and the only thing that got him out of it was the haunting thought that his dead lover would have never wanted that for him. That Owen would never want to watch Curt suffer and waste his life. He vows to return to be a spy in honor of Owen, all while Owen vows to dismantle spyhood as they know it ruin Curt's life and condemn the behaviors that he once loved.

It's the reason neither of them can move on until the other is dead.

[hopelesshawks]

We already talked about this in dms but like👀 Keigo and a female reader that he thinks is just all cute and shit. But nah she’s actually one of the best dancers in japan and specializes in badass and sexy dances

I went down such a rabbit hole picking out the choreo for this for zero reason 💀💀💀 but man am I here for it. For those curious what I pictured writing this it’s this dance at time code 7:27 choreography is by Jojo Gomez

It’s an 18+ one y’all, minors dni. Warnings for dom/sub dynamics, mention of reader having a vagina, fingering, hand jobs, light edging, light nipple play, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, minor praise kink

“So when are you finally gonna seal the deal with (y/n)?” Mirko asks Hawks one day as they walk their usual patrol route. It’s a quiet day and quiet days always made Mirko more likely to pry. “Seal the deal?” Hawks asks. “Y’know... Do the devil’s tango? Make the beast of two backs? Teach her the birds and the bees?” Mirko teases, wiggling her eyebrows and crowding into his personal space. Hawks rolls his eyes hard and shoves her out of his space, not that it deters her. “It’s not like that,” he tells his nosy friend but she just scoffs in response. “Don’t play like you don’t want to get all up on her, Hawks. You go to that cafe she works at every night after your shift and I’m pretty sure you don’t even like coffee,” Mirko points out. “I like coffee,” Hawks retorts mulishly. “No you don’t.” “Drop it Mirko.” “Oh c’mon! It’ll be easier if you just admit it.” “Fine! She’s adorable, you happy?” Hawks finally huffs, red tinting his cheeks. There’s a beat of silence before Mirko responds but it’s not quite the response Hawks is expecting. “Wait you think (y/n)... is adorable?” Mirko asks. “What do you mean? She is!” Hawks replies defensively. “Relax tough guy, adorable just isn’t the word I’d use to describe her,” Mirko shrugs. “How else would you describe her? She always seems kinda sleepy on her shift and she wears those big oversized sweatshirts,” Hawks elaborates but Mirko continues to look confused by his assessment of you. “Have you never seen her dance before?” Mirko finally asks. “She dances?” Hawks responds.

In Hawks’ personal opinion, Mirko’s reaction is over dramatic. She had stopped in her tracks and stared at him as if he’d sprouted a third head or announced an early retirement. “What?” he asks, even more defensive than before. Mirko heaves a sigh as if Hawks’ ignorance is her greatest source of disappointment. “I forget sometimes you live under a rock, Jesus Christ. We really do need to talk about you getting out more for things other than work and creeping on the sexy dancer barista you have a crush on. Why do you think she’s so tired every shift?” Mirko asks in disbelief. “She’s a student isn’t she? I assumed school stuff!” “You really are hopeless.” “Hey!” “She has rehearsal before her shift dummy, she’s tired from practicing.” “How do you know so much about it huh?” “Well for starters her group has literally won competitions so jot that down. And two we follow each other on Twitter.” “Why do I even ask you things?” Hawks laments. “Shut up, I have an idea,” Mirko suddenly grins. “Oh god, what the fuck are you planning now?” Hawks groans. “I think we should pay (y/n) a little visit during rehearsal, don’t you?”

Hawks follows Mirko through the halls of the university rec center with a growing sense of dread. She looks mischievous and that’s usually a sign that Hawks is going to regret whatever he just signed up for. After they round a final corner, Hawks can clearly hear music coming out of a room down the hall labeled rehearsal room B. Hawks and Mirko push through the door right as the song stops and immediately Hawks realizes that this was a mistake. Gone is your oversized hoodie, instead you’re in just a pair of sweats and a sports bra, covered in sweat and chest still heaving from whatever dance you and the two other girls with you had just done. Hawks should’ve just ignored Mirko and waited to look up one of your dances on YouTube in the privacy of his own apartment. “Hey (y/n)!” Mirko calls out cheerily even as Hawks mentally curses her out for dragging him here. Your gaze snaps over to the two of them and immediately you break out into a wide grin, the same one Hawks had been fawning over as cute and precious for the past several weeks. “What are you two doing here?” you ask as your friends grab water. “We were in the neighborhood and I remember you mentioning you rehearse around this time so I figured why not swing by?” Mirko replies and god does Hawks hate her right now. “You guys have perfect timing actually, we’re working on something to the song ‘Ride’ by Ciara and it would be really great to get an outside opinion on it. Would you guys mind sticking around to check it out? I promise it’ll be quick the other girls have something right after this,” you ask the two pros, giving your best puppy dog eyes. Hawks wants to politely decline, he’s having enough trouble keeping himself in check as it is thank you very much, but before he can Mirko is already agreeing and he doesn’t have the heart to shut things down when you look so excited. “Ah amazing!! Ok! Just sit at the front of the room and be our audience!” you beam and Hawks is helpless but to comply.

Hawks’ eyes trace over every inch of your body as you start the music and then get into the starting formation of the dance. Hawks can tell the moment you’ve focused in on performing your choreography because your whole demeanor and energy shifts. It’s commanding and confident and very, very sexy. He’s starting to understand Mirko’s reaction to his earlier description of you because the woman he sees before him now? Well adorable doesn’t quite fit the bill anymore. He’s already half hard in his work pants, much to his chagrin. What would the tabloids say if they knew he was getting this aroused in public? It’s not exactly befitting of the number two hero considering he’s supposed to be a role model for future generations. But could anyone blame him? The way you move your body and swing your hips is mesmerizing. At one point you slowly roll your body down to grind your hips to the floor and it’s impossible for Hawks not to imagine you using that same precise control to grind down onto his dick. He tries to focus on the music instead in hopes it will help him calm down but it only takes a second for him to realize the song is painting the very same image he’s trying desperately to clear from his head. He’s almost positive Mirko is smirking beside him but he can’t focus on her, you’ve captured the entirety of his attention.

Then the chorus hits and Hawks is really in trouble. You’re singing along. You’re singing “they love the way I ride it” and making direct fucking eye contact with him while you swing your hips in a slow, sensual grind and how can he not react to that? His wings flare and puff out instinctively, his cheeks going red, and his dick is now fully erect and leaking precum into his boxers. It would be mortifying if he weren’t too focused on your every move to truly remember his surroundings. Eventually the song ends and even though Mirko stands to go compliment you and your friends on a job well done, Hawks stays rooted in place. He doesn’t dare move as his painfully hard cock twitches in his pants. Sweat drips down your neck and god he wants to lick it off you so goddamn bad he barely even notices you saying bye to Mirko and your friends until the door is shutting behind them.

Hawks hasn’t even fully registered that the two of you are now alone in the room before he’s coming up behind you and wrapping an arm around your bare torso. You open your mouth to ask what’s up with him when you suddenly feel his erection against your backside. “Tell me you don’t want this or I won’t be able to stop,” he all but growls against the shell of your ear. “What if I do want it though?” you ask breathlessly as you shamelessly grind your ass back against his throbbing dick. The moan that crawls its way out of his throat in response is guttural, he genuinely can’t think of a time he’s ever been more turned on in his life as he wastes no time spinning you around to face him and pressing you up against the wall. “You knew what you were doing didn’t you?” he asks before dropping his nose down to run along your jaw. You shudder as he licks a long stripe up your neck, delighting in the salty taste of your sweat. “Maybe?” you hedge at first but then he bites the column of your throat hard enough you’re sure it’ll leave a mark and you can’t help but whimper. He draws back to look you in the eye, his pupils blown so wide they’ve almost completely consumed his golden irises. “Don’t lie to me little dove,” he warns. “I may have gone a little harder than usual because you were watching me,” you admit and it’s apparently the right answer as Hawks all but chirps his satisfaction before leaning down to press a bruising kiss to your lips that has you melting. One of his hands slides up to grasp and squeeze one of your breasts but even that is not enough for him and in the next moment one of his feathers glides in to swiftly cut your sports bra off entirely. You’re about to protest but the words die in your throat as Hawks starts pinching and twisting one of your nipples. “Does that feel good little dove?” he asks and all you can do is let your head fall back against the wall and nod your approval.

Hawks takes advantage of your head’s position to resume leaving marks on your exposed neck as his free hand snakes its way into your sweatpants and panties. As his fingers finally reach your dripping sex you feel him moan against the sensitive skin of your throat. “You’re so wet for me already,” he notes as he slowly slides a finger inside of you. “Want you, need you,” is all you can keen as he drags his one finger torturously slowly inside of you. “Want me that bad love?” Hawks teases and your answering nod is almost frantic as he inserts another finger and takes careful note of the way you squirm. “Use your words,” he commands. “I want you so bad Hawks please,” you beg but even as he uses his thumb to lightly brush against your sensitive clit he still doesn’t budge. “I don’t know, you were so naughty teasing me so much in front of Mirko and your friends. Do you understand how turned on I was?” he asks but you can only whimper in response. You jerk your hips forward in desperate search of more friction or movement or something but all that accomplishes is Hawks using the hand not currently buried inside you to hold your hips still. “I want you to feel how turned on your little show made me little dove. Can you do that?” he asks. “Y-yes,” you moan before obediently reaching one hand out to feel his hardened length through his pants. God he’s so big, and it only emphasizes to you how much you want him inside you. “Not gonna get much done from there, little dove, don’t be shy. I want you to feel me, feel the cock you’re so fucking desperate for,” he growls, slowly dragging his fingers in and out of you to emphasize his point. It’s so good but it’s not nearly enough so you fumble with the belt and button of his pants until finally, finally you can slip your hand past the waistband and into his boxers to grasp firm hold of his weeping cock.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find a devastating rhythm, your hands moving in sync to drive both of you towards your respective climaxes. Your moans echo around the small practice room and it’s music to Hawks’ ears. You’re close, so close, right on the precipice of orgasm when suddenly Hawks is leaning in to whisper into your ear a simple command: “Stop.” His hand stops moving and then he slowly extracts his fingers from inside you. You whine at the loss, pussy desperately clenching around nothing but you obediently stop your hand's movement. "Don't look so disappointed, I thought you wanted my dick," Hawks teases. "I do, fuck, I do," you groan. "Be specific. What do you want?" "I want your dick inside me, please Hawks I'm begging, I want it so bad," you whine. What a pretty sight you make squirming and whining for him. Hawks thinks he could watch you like this forever but even he is starting to get impatient so he decides to finally give you what you want. He shoves his own pants and boxers down low enough for his dick to spring out of its confines, the head flushed red and glistening with precum. Meanwhile his feathers push down your own sweatpants and panties as you watch him with half-lidded eyes, eager to finally feel his hardened length inside you. He has you wrap your arms around his shoulders and places his hands on your waist. "Hop up pretty girl," he commands and you eagerly obey, allowing him to lift you and then wrapping your legs around his waist to further support you weight. "Ready?" he asks. "God, yes Hawks please," you groan as he lines himself up with your waiting entrance. Hawks complies with an almost feral grin, wasting no time in shoving himself fully inside you. You groan as his thick length stretches you open but the slight burn feels so good as he fills you up. "You're doing so good for me, baby. So good," he praises and you practically purr your satisfaction. "P-please. Move," you moan and Hawks doesn't need to be told twice as he begins fucking into you in earnest. All words are lost between the two of you, the only language you need being the moans, groans, whimpers, and whines the two of you pull out of each other. As he drills into you harder and harder you rapidly feel yourself once again approaching climax. "Hawks I'm gonna-" you start but he cuts you off. "Me too baby, hold out a little longer and we'll cum together ok?" he ask. "Ok," you whimper, trying so hard to be good for him. Just a few long deep strokes later he finally gives you permission to cum and almost immediately you cry out his name, clenching and squeezing around him as he tumbles into his own climax. His groan is long and low as he spills his seed inside you and you relish each and every moment of it.

As the two of you finally come down from your highs Hawks carefully sets you back down on the ground. "Shit," he swears. "You can say that again," you laugh breathlessly. "Maybe I should invite you to more rehearsals from now on," you joke. "I'd much rather you give me a private show at my place," he replies easily. "I think I can make that work." "Good." "When would you like your first performance?" "How about now? You were just bragging about how much 'they' like it when you ride it. Time to put your money where your mouth is." "I'd like nothing more."

[flos-timore]

hahahahaha the more i delve into habit the more horrifyingly tragic he is oh no- 

- Habit is unhinged. No, I’m not saying he belongs in an insane asylum or that he’s a complete lunatic; we’re not going the stereotypical demonizing route of “oh this person’s crazy!! there’s no reasoning with them, they must be stopped!!”. He’s a mentally damaged man who feels as if he’s in the right. Years of abuse and torment have led him to ENJOY causing others the same pain he’d been dealt. He RELISHES in being mean; he plays his role as the villain WELL. He acknowledges this fact, and he will go to any means necessary to continue to do so. 

- You’ll find he laughs. Often. More often than not it’s just a reflex so he can maintain his happy smiley “calm”, but once he has you strapped down, right where he wants you.... THEN his cackles tend to have a bit more meaning behind them. :-) 

- He fully believes that he’s finally choosing his own destiny and taking what’s his. The Habitat is HIS domain, and he’ll be AWFULLY keen on reminding you of it. Everything is intentional, everything is monitored, and he’ll Know if you’ve done something he doesn’t approve of. He’s running a sick sort of “business”, here, and he isn’t about to let his hard work go down the drain because of ONE pesky little nuisance. 

- Passive aggressive. OH MY GOD IS HE PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE. He won’t even hide it if he thinks you already Know/he hates you enough. The fact that he won’t outwardly admit that he’s insulting you to your face just makes it all the MORE insulting and infuriating. He knows this and it’s funny to him. 

- He’ll Absolutely make sure the door Literally hits you on the way out. He’s also not above SLAMMING doors as hard as he can when leaving rooms/a conversation; either to make a point, or just be an asshole. 

- He talks to himself. Sometimes even inanimate objects will become his focus as he holds entire conversations as if he’s Actually talking to other people. This has become a habit (no pun intended) of his over the years due to the sheer isolation and lack of anybody ELSE to talk to. He can’t STAND prolonged silences. This man is UNGODLY sociable; he needs other people around him. 

- Adding onto that: he DOES get auditory and visual hallucinations. His mentions of his lily “talking to him” is an example of this. I felt the need to clarify that since inanimate objects CAN sometimes talk and be sentient in the SFM universe. 

- He will eavesdrop. He WILL Eavesdrop On You. He feels the need to know EVERY LITTLE THING going on at ALL times- even if it doesn’t concern him in the least. If you Try to have any semblance of privacy or you confront him about this, he’ll be flippant and try to paint YOU as the one in the wrong for being upset in the first place. Yes, he’s good at gaslighting.

- While he has next to No actual fighting experience, he has PLENTY of experience with dodging blows. Should you ever try to physically... ahem... CONFRONT the good doctor, sure, he won’t try to fight back, but this doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll make being taken down EASY for you. Have fun as he dances and twirls around to dodge your blows, mocking you all the while. 

- It’s nearly EFFORTLESS for him, too. Habit might not be the athletic type, but he’s naturally flexible. You’re not really “FIGHTING” him, and he’ll surrender once you gain the upper hand, but catch him in the right mindset and he’ll literally pull you into a deadly tango. 

- TORTURE METHODS. He knows Many. He’s found ways to do his research. Psychological, physical, mental- you name it. He’ll take Any opportunity to flex this knowledge, too, and he ISN’T afraid of things getting.... “gory”, once he has you where he wants you. Though he might throw up a few hours or days later, looking back on his actions. 

- He makes certain to differentiate “Boris” from “Dr. Habit”, in his mind. What I mean by this is: growing up, BORIS was the pushover. BORIS sat quietly at the dinner table while his parents argued and insulted him. BORIS was the silent kid in class that cried in the bathroom over the other kids bullying him. BORIS was the soft nobody who had a heart too big for his body, and goals too optimistic for the cruel outside world. BORIS is the person that Dr. Habit has fought TOOTH and NAIL to choke the life out of and replace. He wants other people to realize this, too. 

[imperfect-robin]

Cell Block Tango (Self Para)

There was something about immeasurable time that managed to torture the mind, body and soul-stretching you thin somehow. Each new minute feels like an hour and each hour feels like a day. Robin knew realistically she hadn’t been in the cell for that long but Merlin it had felt like it. The room stood still and silent making the redhead feel lonelier than she’d ever felt before. She turned slightly, her eyes rolling over the cold stone wall. They were old stones from the quarry, along with the floor. Everything there was hard and cold. She only hoped that this mess would be sorted out quickly before she drove herself insane.

It was an odd sensation being locked up in a prison cell, it was almost suffocating. There had been so many occasions where she had felt she had deserved to be locked up, there was a part of her that felt she should just resign herself to the punishment yet there was something within her that was stopping her from lying down and giving up. It just wasn’t right. She’d accept blame and punishment for her mother’s death but she just couldn’t allow people-- couldn’t allow her friends to believe she had betrayed them and fallen in line with Voldemort.

The sound of distant footsteps caught her attention. She scrambled to her feet as the footfalls became steadily louder, straining against the darkness to see who was coming. Within minutes the room was filled with harsh fluorescent lights revealing a large stocky wizard. Robin noted that it was the same male that had brought her here the night before. The man tried to keep his face neutral, but he was too smug. His lips twisted into a half smirk.

        “Miss Lockley, isn’t it?” He asked raising a brow.

        “I should hope you already know that and you’re not going around locking random people up assuming their identities.” She quipped her jaw set, eyes unreadable.

The male gave a humourless laugh obviously unimpressed with her attitude. “I’m glad you still have a sense of humour, I wonder, does all of Voldemort’s followers share that with you?” Well, at least he was straight to the point she supposed. There was no point in beating around the bush, he wanted answers and she, well, she wanted to prove her innocence and return home - though, how she was going to do that she did not know.

    “I wouldn’t know, you’d have to go ask them.” Robin insisted, looking at him with utter disdain and defiance in her eyes.

An exhausted sigh fell from his lips. “There’s no point denying it, in fact, it would be easier for us both - and frankly - it would be in your best intention to cooperate.” He raised his chin and clenched his jaw determined as he unlocked the cell door stepping in before slamming it shut behind him.

    “I am happy to cooperate, but I really couldn’t give you any information as I have none. I am not and never have been in league with Voldemort or his followers. Honestly, I’m not even sure what could have given you that impression.” Robin’s irritation returned, amplified by her exhaustion.

   “So, you’re claiming your loyalty is with the Ministry?” He asked narrowing his eyes as he studied her. The question sounded simple enough but the witch was uncomfortable with the male’s tone, somehow his question sounded like a trick one.

Hesitating she thought about what he was asking her, she wouldn’t exactly say that - her alliance fell more with the order than anything but it’s not like she could tell him that. Clearing her throat she nodded. “Yes, of course, it does.” The male didn’t look convinced.

    “Hmmm, yet you seem to hold back information from the Ministry, don’t you? I mean, you failed to report to the Ministry where you’ve been living since leaving Hogwarts. Not only that but going a bit further back, you and your brother - Xavier Lockley - were questioned about your mother’s sudden disappearance, were you not? It’s been how many years now, and there are still no leads in the investigation.”

    “I don’t like what you’re implying.” Robin spat through gritted teeth, her mother’s disappearance had always been a touchy subject for the redhead.

    “I’m simply stating facts. She was a muggle, correct? What happened? You couldn’t stand a muggle raising you after your father had passed?”

Robin felt sick as she listened to what the male was suggesting. Her mother had hurt her repeatedly - to a point where it could have been fatal but she still loved her and would have never wished her any harm and neither would Xavier. “We were just kids, we didn’t do anything. She left us. I don’t care what you think, either way, you have no proof so I fail to understand how you can unlawfully hold me here.” Something flashed beneath the surface of his hardened expression, the anger clear on his face causing Robin to retreat, her back hitting the cold stone wall.

A small forced smile made its way to his face as he took a step closer to the redhead. “Yes, you’re quite correct, I currently have no proof -- but a confession will do.”

The young witch scoffed looking at him as if he were mad. “I’m not going to confess to something I haven’t done.”

He shook his head with mocking laughter. “We’ll see about that.” Before she could say another word the male grasped her wrist, his fingers gripping tightly as he pulled her away from the wall and threw her to the floor. “Are you sure you want to down this path, it would be much easier if you just told me what I want to hear and give me the information I need.”

Robin glared at the male, jutting her chin out in a manner reminiscent of a stubborn child. “Fuck you.”

A loud slap echoed in the room as he backhanded her across the face, the force of his blow causing her head to reel sickeningly as it slammed into the floor. The taste of the blood pooling in her mouth made her feel nauseous or maybe it was from the blow to her head as it hit the stone floor. Looking up at the male stunned by the blow she could see by the look in his eyes that he wasn't done. In another stride, he was standing over her again as he dragged her to her feet by grabbing a fistful of her hair before plunging his fist into her ribs repeatedly earning a groan from her with each punch.

The witch found her knees going weak as she grasped onto the male trying to keep herself upright. Rolling his eyes, the wizard just kicked her off of him. “You know what I want-- what will make all this stop.”

    “Please, I haven’t done anything wrong.” She tried to reason with him, desperation seeping into her words. His mouth twisted up into a warped grin clearly amused by her.