Weve Heard Of Werewolf Curt- But What About Vampire Owen?

We’ve heard of werewolf Curt- but what about vampire Owen?

Im realizing how much of a theatre kid I am because there are only six things I’m doing like.. ever

Those things are:

Being in a Musical

Practicing my Audition to be in a musical

Watching a musical

Drawing fanart for a musical

Making references to a musical

Failing math

People in the North of Gaza are being starved and humanitarian aid is not allowed to reach them. Doctors have requested #FeedNorthGaza to be shared so the voices in North Gaza are heard.

From the river to the sea, Palestine MUST be free.

https://gazaesims.com // Esims for Gaza, to allow journalists to broadcast, and to help families to stay in contact.

https://doctorswithoutborders.org // Doctors without Borders

Palestine Children Relief Fund // To help with the water shortage.

What an icon

Daily dose of Curt #4

Suggested by @paranormaltheatrekid

i am willing to bet one hundred million thousand dollars that after curt shot owen, he stared at the body for a long fucking time. he dropped his gun and fell to his knees and just stared at the body of the man he loves more than anyone else, the man who's first death stopped curt's entire world. who curt's regretted killing for four, long years. i bet he started sobbing, after it truly hit, after he noticed some of owen's blood and brain matter had splattered onto his pristine blue shirt. he probably fucking wailed, kneeled over owen's cooling body like a fanatic at a destroyed gods altar, shaking him, desperate to wake him up, desperate to take it back. maybe he thought about shooting himself, right then and there. maybe he pressed the cool barrel of the gun he used to kill owen against his forehead and wonder if he should pull the trigger. in the end, he would be too much of a coward. instead, he would soak owen's shirt with tears, run his fingers through his hair, and just beg him to wake up. beg owen to come back to him. and when the effort would prove futile, eventually he would lie down beside him and stare into his glassy eyes, too drained to keep crying, to drained to do anything at all, but still unable to look away from the horror of it.

in the dim morning light, he would scoop the body up in his arms and quietly take him outside. dig a shallow grave with his bare hands until they were bleeding, and gently place owen face up in the ground. kiss him on his cool forehead and whisper a fervent prayer for him to forgive him, someday. wish that they both belonged to another world where they could've been together. and then he would shove the dirt over owen's pale flesh, watch his face disappear under the earth, and curl up on top of the grave to sleep.

Aftermath Version with no text under cut