#Luz: you fucked up a perfectly good brother is what you did. Look at him! He’s got anxiety and ptsd!
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I still haven’t watched the last two episodes lol
Have a Noceda siblings sketch that I never finished
Luz really cartwheeled into the boiling isle and swiped the brother Belos has spent the last 400 years fine tuning and I have nothing but respect for her. 😌
#toh#the owl house#Luz Noceda#Hunter Noceda#hunter the golden guard#the most simblings ever#emperor belos#philip wittebane#caleb whittebane#Philip: I made a better version of an old friend-#Luz: you fucked up a perfectly good brother is what you did. Look at him! He’s got anxiety and ptsd!#fox talks
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Poem 14.
A/N: these are days filled with ideas and I’m honestly loving it! The inspo for this came thanks to an ask (which i can’t find anymore) sent to @crushed-pink-petals-writes and @suckthatskittlebiiitch‘s comment: shoutout to you, but I also blame you because it’s been almost 3 days and the idea won’t leave my head and I just HAD TO WRITE IT.🙈 I did not include all of the poem, I just used some lines, and I used the Spanish version (but you can find the English translation, also). One day I will address my love/hate relationship with poetry, but today is not the day. I’m making an exception for Angel, tho.😌
Enjoy! Xx 🍓
/ Masterlist
Warnings: unprotected sexual intercourse, oral sex (f receiving), not proofread
Summary: the Mayans Book Club starts reading poetry and Angel recites you a poem, the Angel way.
Angel had been blackmailed into joining the Mayans book club and he hated to admit it, but he liked it. He talked to you about the books they read, what he liked, what he didn’t like, his theories and sometimes he also made alternative endings. When Letty suggested reading poetry, the others didn’t know what to say. Poetry, of course, couldn’t be read like novels and they were hesitant at first, but they tried it.
They started with the basis: English poetry. And EZ (who was in charge of the whole thing, with the supervision of Bishop) assigned homework: everyone had to read and present a poem from the author they had chosen, give a brief explanation, going beyond the written words and finding the meaning, understand it.
Angel had loved it, he had googled and read every analysis he could come across to, and he wanted to know more and more each time. He had never read that much.
/
The chairs were put in a circle, everyone with their book in hand, bookmarks, notes, it felt as if they were back in school. Today they were going to read Neruda.
Gilly got up and started reading the poem had chosen, Poem XIV from the book “20 love poems and a song of despair”. Angel listened, marveling at the analysis his brother had done, and all he could think about was you and how you fit perfectly in the lines of the poem.
The night went on, but Angel had zoned out, his brain replayed the poem over and over in his head.
/
A couple of days had passed, and Angel had read the poem a hundred times, and he wanted you to know that he loved you.
He smiled as he entered the house, finding you on the bed, a flannel of his resting loosely on your body, allowing him to see your soft curves.
“Hello there”, you said with a sweet smile, now watching him. He smiled and slowly walked towards you, grabbing your ankles and pulling you to the end of the bed. You yelped and gave a soft laugh, but it slowly died down when you saw the seriousness in his eyes. “Something wrong?”, your cheerful mood was gone.
He shook his head and smiled at you, spreading your legs and trailing one of his hands from your feet to your inner thigh. “No, everything’s perfect. I love you”, he murmured, kneeling in front of you and sliding both of his hands under the shirt you were wearing, but he avoided your breasts, opting to caress your skin again and again. You had no clue what was happening.
“Baby… what are you doing?”, you whispered, propped up on your elbows, and whined when he finally touched your chest, but it wasn’t eager like usual. Angel loved having sex with you, but he had always been on the rougher side, worshipping you in his own way, not that you complained. There had been times where he would go slow, and you enjoyed it very much. Still, he was not a patient man.
He shushed you and smiled, kissing just below your belly button. “Don’t worry, just relax”, he said, as his hands removed the fabric from your body, leaving you completely naked, and him completely dressed.
He ducked his head down and slowly started to eat you out. You didn’t know if it was the change of atmosphere or the incredible way his lips worked on you, but you came within minutes; Angel groaned at the taste of you and wiped his mouth clean… which didn’t do much, since his beard was covered in your arousal.
He got on top of you, and you reached down to unbuckle his pants, but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you.
He took his time undressing and when his tip entered you, your body felt like it was on fire. Every touch was erotic and you couldn’t help but squirm against the mattress, his body on top of you, his cock caressing your walls with slow and deep strokes.
You both hadn’t said much, the only sounds were moans and whines and groans. Then, Angel spoke.
“I’ve been thinking about you for days, fuck- I wanna recite you a poem”, your eyes snapped open, he was watching you. Your eyes searched his, questioningly, you had no idea what was going on. When you didn’t respond, he started.
Juegas todos los días con la luz del universo.
Sutil visitadora, llegas en la flor y en el agua.
(Every day you play with the light of the universe. / Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water.)
He kept thrusting slowly, his words a bit muffled as he had his lips against your neck. You were his world, his universe, and he wanted you to understand how much he loved you. Angel was not good with his words, but he could try with someone else’s.
Hearing him speak Spanish, reciting poetry while you were making love, had you becoming lightheaded.
A nadie te pareces desde que yo te amo.
Déjame tenderte entre guirnaldas amarillas.
(You are like nobody since I love you. / Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.)
You moaned and threw your head back, your nails digging into his shoulders at the pleasure, making him moan and thrust a bit harder as a reaction. There is nobody like you, nothing compares to you, he’s put you on a pedestal.
While you were too occupied with each other, the weather outside had gotten bad. The clouds in the sky and the breeze coming from the open window announced the arrive of a storm, but you didn’t mind. Now, all your mind could think about was the way Angel’s hips were pushing and pulling against your own.
Life could put him through the worst things, but he felt strong with you by his side.
Tú estás aquí. Ah tú no huyes.
Tú me responderás hasta el último grito.
Ovíllate a mi lado como si tuvieras miedo.
(You are here. Oh, you do not run away. / You will answer me to the last cry. / Cling to me as though you were frightened.)
He continued, his head now against your chest.
Ahora, ahora también, pequeña, me traes madreselvas,
y tienes hasta los senos perfumados.
( Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle, / and even your breasts smell of it.)
His tongue explored your flesh, his pace always sensual even if you were squeezing around him. Your whines had gotten louder and you had scratched at his back multiple times, always when his tip bumped your g-spot.
Cuanto te habrá dolido acostumbrarte a mí,
a mi alma sola y salvaje, a mi nombre que todos ahuyentan.
(How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, /my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.)
He remembered the way people looked at you when you said his name with the biggest smile on your face. Everybody had warned you, he was dangerous, nothing good, stay away. But you were stubborn. The day Angel had confessed to you what he really did for the club, was the day worry, uneasiness, and restlessness made a home in your head. It was also the day you vowed to stay by his side, it didn’t matter what he did. You loved him. He knew you were the one, then.
Mis palabras llovieron sobre ti acariciándote.
Amé desde hace tiempo tu cuerpo de nácar soleado.
Hasta te creo dueña del universo.
Te traeré de las montañas flores alegres, copihues,
avellanas oscuras, y cestas silvestres de besos.
(My words rained over you, stroking you. / A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body. / I go so far as to think that you own the universe. / I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, / dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.)
His thrusts had begun to quicken, signalling that he was approaching his high, and you were too. You opened your eyes and your gazes met, he gave you a soft smile, pausing his words to kiss you, the first real kiss since the start of the poem. It was soft and loving but you still felt electricity shoot through your body. His movements were fast, now, he pressed his forehead against yours, his forearms rested beside your head, supporting his weight, and your bodies were touching almost completely. You grabbed his hand, wrapping your leg around his waist and you both moaned out at the change of angle, that made him reach even deeper.
You closed your eyes as you felt your orgasm coming and you kept him anchored to you with your leg on his waist, his hand coming on your raised thigh to squeeze it, your grip so thigh, not letting him leave your warmth and his hips stuttered. His and yours groans and moans filled the room.
Quiero hacer contigo
lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.
(I want / to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.)
You came just as he finished speaking, and he followed you. He kept moving his hips against yours, riding out your high and emptying himself inside you. When you were both done, your chests were rising and falling rapidly. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, before gently removing himself from you and going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth and help you clean up. You flinched at the contact, still sensitive to the touch, and he made sure to be extra careful.
He got up, discarding the towel and put on his boxers, helping you get into a clean pair of panties and a shirt of his. He closed the window and then you felt the bed dip again under his weight. You curled up against him as he kissed your head and stroked your bare back, smiling at your blissed-out state.
“I love you, so much”, you said, looking at him and he could see the love in your eyes, too. “Te amo, mi dulce”, he replied, hugging you to him and draping a blanket over you both, ready to nap while holding you close.
taglist taglist @scuzmunkie @ifoundmyhappythought @thickemadame @mrsjaxtellerfan @chibsytelford @cocotheclown @elcococruz @everyhowlmarksthedead @imagineredwood @lady-pswrld @sadeyesgf @gemini0410 @samcrobae @woahitslucyylu @blackmissfrizzle @enamoured-x @whyisgmora @briannab1234 @rebel-without-cause-x @angelreyesgirl @general-tiny-mouse @claytoncardenasbabymama @blessedboo @brattyfics
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Love Sick aka “Five Times Logan Thought Roman Didn’t Love Him and the One Time He Was Sure He Did. (Number 5 Will Shock You!)”
Ships(s): Romantic Logince, background QPR moiety
Words: 4,513
Warnings: Food mention, swearing, caps, sex mentions, implied sex at the end, a character gets poisoned and is mentioned as “dying” a few times, (No one actually dies), Logan had Dumb Bitch Disease
Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @jynxlovesluck @max-is-tired
---
One
Baby, can’t you see
Logan had been hiding from his feelings for quite a while now. He had convinced himself that if Roman did not return his feelings then he could move on with no issue. But first, he had to convince himself that Roman did not return his feelings.
I’m calling.
When they enthusiastically recited Shakespeare together or debated whether or not the inaccuracies of Hamilton matter, or when Roman’s eyes light up every time he shows off a new poem he wrote for Logan, it’s hard not to imagine how wondrous life could be if he did.
They had been sitting together watching Bambi while Virgil and Patton hogged one end of the couch, pressing Logan into Roman’s side. Logan thought he could get over his feelings for Roman.
“I bet you those two will get together before the end of the week,” Roman said with a smile, the pastel colors of the television illuminating his face. Logan had been wrong.
Two
A guy like you should wear a warning.
It should have been illegal for Roman to be a morning person. Logan had hypothesized that it would be much harder to be attracted to Roman if every morning he looked messy and had bad posture. Unfortunately, by the time Logan woke up every morning, Roman was already clean and dressed after his morning run. He smiled, adrenaline still pumping through his veins, and his eyes seemed to sparkle.
Quite frankly, it was revolting how attractive he was.
“Aww️, don’t look so grumpy, Teach,” Roman said with a laugh, lifting Logan’s chin with his fingers.
Logan’s only coherent thought had been, “Boy if I wasn’t gay before.”
“Don’t talk to me until I’ve had coffee,” he muttered.
“Don’t talk to me until I’ve had seven,” Virgil said, sipping his mug from where he sat on top of the fridge.
“When the fuck did you get up there?”
“When the fuck did you become such a nosey bitch?” he asked through another sip.
“Kiddos, play nice,” Patton warned. “Your swear jar savings are going to fund my trip to Hawaii.”
Roman rolled his eyes and sat down next to Logan. He stole a sip of the teacher’s coffee, smirking as Logan blinked back in shock. “You have very pretty hair, Logan,” he said dreamily before mumbling under his breath, “bet it would be great for pulling at.”
Logan could have sworn that his face was on fire.
It’s dangerous.
He almost enjoyed it.
I’m falling.
Three
Roman and Remus had come back scraped and bruised from what Roman had claimed to be “a fight with a dragon witch and a manticore chimera” and what Remus had claimed to be “a bitch of a good time.”
“You look like hell,” Virgil said, wincing slightly as he saw the cuts on Roman’s neck and arms.
“Thanks, I just got back,” Roman laughed, coughing up a bit of blood. “C’mon it’s Heathers! I had to!”
“You are utterly ridiculous,” Logan said, his usual monotone cracking with worry.
“Come on, Teach, don’t get all soft on me,” Roman teased, wincing in pain as he laughed.
“After we have a talk about your impulsiveness, we really must discuss how you’ve picked up on Patton’s habit of hiding your pain with jokes.”
“Hey!” Patton yelled defensively.
“You’re getting better at dealing with that.”
“And we’re very proud of you,” Virgil said tenderly.
“Nonetheless, Roman is still a massive dumbass.”
Roman scoffed in offense. “Would a dumbass have saved that whole city?”
“Your brother helped,” Virgil countered, “so, yes. A dumbass would do that.”
“Would this dumbass do that?”
“So you admit that you’re a dumbass then?”
Roman hesitated as if his brain had been lagging. He sighed into his palm. “Shit.”
“Sit down, Roman,” Logan said softly, snapping his fingers and causing Roman to fall back onto the couch on the other side of the commons. He snapped his fingers once more, summoning a first aid kit and turned to Virgil and Patton. “A moment of privacy please?”
There’s no escape
“You’re going to have to take your coat off,” Logan said as he organized his supplies.
“Are you looking for an excuse to see me topless?”
“Aren’t you always?”
“How dare you!” Roman yelled in feign offense. “I am SHOCKED! I am OFFENDED! I am APPALLED!”
“Just take your coat off before I decide not to help you,” Logan warned. Only a second later he felt heavy fabric hit his head. He whipped his head around, retaliation on the tip of his tongue, but he lost all will to fight back when he saw Roman before him. A deep cut ran across his abdomen. Dried blood covered his skin both near and away from his wounds. Logan sighed, snapping one last time and summoning a washcloth in hand as well as a bucket of warm water by his side. “Just take a deep breath,” Logan said, “and try to relax.”
Roman smiled softly as Logan cleaned the small cuts and gashes on his arm. “You care about me,” he said, more matter-of-factly than teasing. “It’s cute.”
“Your blood loss is worse than anticipated,” Logan said, dipping the cloth in the bucket and ringing it out. He continued cleaning, trying not to think about how intimate the moment was or how beautiful Roman was, especially this close.
“Maybe so, but I’m still right.”
“I didn’t think you can be even cockier, but here you are.”
“Oh I can certainly be cockier,” Roman said with a wink, wiggling his eyebrows.
“You’re worse than your brother,” Logan said. He cleaned the washcloth once more and gently placed it on the large wound on Roman’s torso. He jumped back as the prince loudly sucked in air, biting his lip in pain. “I’M SORRY!” he yelled.
“NO- No, don’t be,” Roman said, taking in a deep breath. “It’s my own damn fault for not wearing proper armor.”
“I’m sorry,” Logan repeated.
“No hay necesidad de ser, luz de las estrellas,” the prince whispered softly, brushing Logan’s hair away from his face.
I can’t wait
I need a hit.
Logan blushed, shying away from Roman’s touch. “You sound like you’re exhausted, you always get flirty when you’re tired.”
“Not true.”
“I once saw you flirting with Patton’s cookie jar.”
“That was one ti-”
“And Virgil’s Nightmare Before Christmas posters.”
“Okay but-”
“And Virgil.”
“You got me there,” Roman mumbled. “But can you blame me? I was really into him at the time and you’d do the same if you had a crush!”
“Me? No way.”
“Ah, right, I suppose you are too cowardly to flirt.”
“I will literally reopen this wound.”
“Ouch.”
“Don’t test me, bitch,” Logan threatened.
“Okay, okay,” Roman laughed. “You’re not a coward.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re the romanced not the romancer.”
Logan rolled his eyes. He snapped away his cloth and bucket of water and began putting disinfectant and bandaids onto Roman’s minor cuts and injuries. “And what are you suggesting?”
“I’m saying someone should flirt with you,” Roman said.
“Oh yeah? And who’s going to do that, you?”
“If I must,” he teased with a wink, noticing the way Logan’s face turned red.
Baby, give me it.
Four
Logan was taking a lazy day. He was perfectly content to stay in bed, drinking tea and not think about Roman Sanders, thank you very much.
But we can’t all get what we want, which is why Roman came bursting into Logan’s room at that exact moment. “Entertain me,” he demanded, plopping himself into Logan’s bed.
“Roman, I’m busy.”
“No you’re not,” he said. “You have nothing to do other than entertain me.”
Logan put down his tea on his bedside table and watched in defeat as Roman wiggled until his head was sitting comfortably on Logan’s lap. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re the one who was obsessing over my wounds the other day.”
“I wasn’t obsessing-“
“C’mon, you can play Doctor and like double-check my cuts or whatever,” Roman said. “Pwease Wogan.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Logan reminded.
“And I’m bored.”
“Boredom is no excuse to intrude on my important tasks-“
“You were gonna lay in bed for the next two hours and take a nap,” Roman said.
Logan looked down, blushing in embarrassment. He mumbled under his breath, “It’s true but you shouldn’t say it.”
Roman adjusted himself, moving up and turning over so that his chin rested on Logan’s chest. “You were just going to lay around anyway, what’s the harm in me joining you? I’ll even stay completely silent if that’s what you want!”
“If your only desire is to lay around in silence, why can you not do so in your room?”
Roman looked away in shame, hiding his face in his arms. “It’s lonely in there,” he mumbled.
Logan pushed Roman’s hair out of his face, smiling softly at the prince. “I... wouldn’t mind a cuddle buddy, if that is an adequate situation for you.”
Roman’s eyes lit up as he smiled. He quickly dipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around Logan’s torso. He nuzzled his face against Logan’s chest as he tried to find a comfortable position. Logan held back the urge to laugh as Roman’s hair tickled his skin.
Instead, he tried to return to his book, and in less than a chapter, they had called into a steady rhythm of synchronized breaths and heartbeats. It felt like they were meant to be next to each other, like long-separated puzzle pieces, as Roman gently stroked his fingers up and down Logan’s arm. It was soft and quiet and just a bit domestic. And Logan wished it could have lasted forever.
He sighed, leaning his head back, his book long forgotten as Roman’s strokes got slower and slower until he was sound asleep. “Bonsoir, mon chéri,” he whispered softly, wishing for the ache of longing to stop grasping at his heartstrings.
You’re dangerous.
I’m loving it.
Five
“You’re back early,” Virgil said cautiously. The twins had been on what should have been a two week trip to the Imagination. It had only been three days, and Remus was already standing in the Core Sides’ living room, with an arm awkwardly wrapped around Roman to support him.
“This dumbass had to go and get pricked by an enchanted rose’s thorn,” Remus said as he rolled his eyes. “Hasn’t stopped talking about being hot for teacher for hours.” He tossed Roman onto the couch next to Virgil before reopening the Imagination’s door, “He’s your problem now.” The door slammed shut before disappearing completely.
“Virgil?” Roman groaned, rubbing his eyes with his palm. “Where are we?”
“We’re in the Commons,” Virgil said softly, placing his hand on Roman’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“That’s because I’m so hot,” he laughed weakly before breaking into a coughing fit.
“I’m so not equipped for this,” Virgil said. “Some help here?!” He summoned Patton and Logan, who seemed very confused to suddenly be somewhere other than where they had been two seconds ago.
“Virgil, you don’t typically summon us,” Logan said. “What seems to be wrong?”
“It’s Princey.”
“And water is hydrogen monoxide, what else is new?”
“Logan!” Patton gasped. “Be nice!”
“He’s burning up,” Virgil said quietly. “Remus said he got pricked by something. Can flowers be venomous?”
“Flowers?” Logan asked.
“It’s only venomous if it bites you,” Roman mumbled, closing his eyes and laying his head on Virgil’s lap. “Logie taught me that.”
“Never call me that ever again.”
“I’ll watch over him, you two can figure out what’s wrong,” Patton said, scooping Roman up into his arms with a shocking amount of ease. Roman clung onto him, burying his face in Patton’s neck like a toddler.
It’s getting late
to give you up.
Logan and Virgil spent countless hours trying to find any real, logical answers. Textbooks lay scattered across the room as crumpled up papers overflowed from the recycling bin. “We- There’s gotta be some way to help,” Virgil said, biting his thumb.
“Take a deep breath,” Logan reminded, hiding his own pounding heart and paranoia. “Perhaps there’s one solution we haven’t tried.”
“I don’t know if there is a solution! Remus said they had been in the imagination and- and who knows/what’s going on in that hellhole!?”
“The imagination,” Logan repeated. He jumped up from his office chair and raced across the room, digging under a pile of journals and binders. “AHA!” he yelled, holding a red leather-bound book above his head. “What did he get infected with?”
“An... an enchanted rose- Logan, what is that?”
“A scientific journal!” he announced as his eyes lit up like Time’s Square for the first time in a night of dreary hopelessness. “The Imagination isn’t a realm like any real one, so the obvious choice is to study it.”
“So, it’s, I- What?”
“I haven’t had the proper time to go and catalogue all of the flora and fauna, but Roman’s friend- er- ‘Mortal Enemy’-” He made air quotes- “was very supportive of my investigation during my brief stay as her hostage.” He opened the book and quickly flipped through the pages muttering, “Love potion, love potion, love- AHA! Found you!”
“When did you get taken hostage?”
“Virgil, that information is hardly relevant, please stay focused.”
Virgil blinked back in confusion, raising his arms dramatically as he silently asked a million questions.
I took a sip from my Devil’s cup.
“Enchanted roses are the main ingredient in love potions and, truthfully, the only one that really has any effect. Everything else is basically an antidote for the rose’s lethal toxins,” Logan explained. His face dropped slightly. “Unfortunately, there’s no cure. The potions tend to wear themselves out but only because of the curative properties of the rest of the potion. If we could... create a potion without the rose... perhaps then we could brew an antidote. But there are too many complications, it’s unlikely we’d even be able to brew the first batch before his condition gets... a- and even so, we really can’t assume that a first trial would be the best and that could make him worse if he isn’t already de- Simply speaking, we need to find the best solution that takes the least amount of time and-“
Virgil tuned Logan out as he continued rambling. He picked up a book sitting next to him, it was an aged collection of Grimm’s Fairytales with enough silver and gold accenting the cover to make it seem more like something Roman would own than Logan. Virgil took and book carefully into his hands and aimed at his target.
“-of course I only care about him for Thomas’ sake, that the logical thing here and- OW what the FUCK?!”
“That’s a dollar in the swear jar.”
“VIRGIL!”
“The book is a hint, Dumbass.”
“That’s a quarter in the swear jar,” Logan mumbled angrily.
“It’s Roman. It’s a love spell.”
“And?”
“Haven’t you seen Enchanted? Put him on a fainting couch and kiss his gay face with your gay face.”
“VIRGIL!” Logan screeched.
“You look exactly like his stupid sash, wow.”
“I don’t know what- I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re insinuating.”
“‘True love’s kiss will break the spell’ or whatever it is Roman’s always singing about.”
“Yes, well, I don’t think we can contact Ryan Reynolds to help with this issue.”
“He is hot, but you’re dodging the real solution here,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “You have feelings for Roman and you gotta suck his face to get the poison out of it.”
“FALSEHOOD!”
Virgil flinched at the sound and forced a yawn to pop his ears. “Indoor voice, please.”
“Even if I did somehow, hypothetically, have-“ he scrunched his nose in disgust- “feelings, it’s not like Roman would ever return such... meaningless chemical reactions.”
Slowly, it’s taking over me.
Too high, can’t come down.
“Are you feeling any better, Kiddo?” Patton asked, putting a fresh washcloth on Roman’s head.
“He’s so pretty,” Roman sighed dreamily, as if completely unaware of the poison flowing through his veins. “And smart too. Do you think he would let me play with his hair? And kiss him? I wanna kiss him.”
“I think you need some rest, Kiddo, you’ve been doing a lot of adventuring. And even brave knights need nap time.”
“But I don’t waaaaaant to go to sleeeeeep,” Roman whined. “I wanna keep talking about Logan. And how pretty he is. And how smart he is. And how wonderful he is.”
“You can gush more after you nap,” Patton said.
“Promise?”
“I promise.
Losin’ my head,
Spinnin’ round and round
Roman pulled a pillow against his chest and snuggled into it, quickly drifting off to sleep. Patton put a hand against his cheek as he took the washcloth, Roman’s fever had only gotten worse, and he hated to admit how much that terrified him.
Do you feel me now?
“This is a terrible idea,” Virgil said. “Like, probably the worst idea you’ve ever had. Ever. Don’t even try. Take a nap. Do literally anything else.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Logan asked, tucking the last of his books into his leather crossbody bag. He wore a long coat over traveller’s clothes that looked almost nothing like his typical wear save for the color scheme.
“Yes! Just spend some time with him holy shit.”
“Swear jar.”
“Logan,” Virgil reprimanded, his voice growing deep and echoey. “If you don't want to listen to me, fine, whatever, I don’t care, but don’t get yourself killed over something that you, yourself, said won’t work.”
“Then what do you propose instead?” Logan snapped. “Chicken soup?”
“If it keeps you safe, yes!” Virgil yelled. “Heaven forbid we actually care about your safety just as much as Roman’s.”
Logan did the last of his coat buttons and carefully tucked his bag under his arm, adjusting the strap to fit him neatly. “I’m going. I’ll use Remus’s door and I’ll find someone who can help me.”
“Logan, we need you here!”
“You need Roman!” Logan yelled. “Just... please, Virgil, let me do this. Let me do right by him.”
“You’ve really lost your mind, huh?”
“Well,” Logan mumbled under his breath as he sank out, “people do crazy things when they’re in love.”
Can you feel me now?
“Oh, and what do we have here?” Remus asked with a smirk.
“I am here to request that you grant me access to the Imagination,” Logan asked. “And that we make this meeting as brief as possible.”
Remus looked him up and down suspiciously before bursting out into laughter. “Logic going willingly into my realm? Ha! Oh Logan,” he said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes, “you are a riot.”
“Need I remind you that I’ve been to the Imagination before?”
“Yeah, with my brother,” Remus said, still laughing heartily. “You went because you have a massive crush, not because you actually like the place.”
“Falsehood,” Logan mumbled sheepishly. Were his feelings for Roman really so obvious?
Remus’s laughter died down but he kept an obnoxious smirk on his face. “You can deny all you want, Logiebear.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“It doesn’t change that you an oblivious fucking disaster gay.”
“Just open the door, Remus. I’ve had enough of this meaningless small talk.”
“No can do, Nerdy Wolverine!” he said with a smile. “No sides allowed. Gate closed. Your face will melt clean off!” His wide smile dropped slightly and twisted into something just short of contempt. “But Roman said we aren’t allowed to melt any faces off. He locked me out too.”
“Damnit,” Logan muttered under his breath, trying to hide the disappointment and guilt spreading through his chest. If Roman’s condition got any worse, he couldn't help but feel that it would all be his fault. “I must be going, Remus. I am sorry that this was such a fruitless venture.”
He sunk out and found himself back in the commons, just outside of Roman’s room. The sound of hushed whispers and the feelings of anxiety and guilt hung through the air. He leaned against the door planning a million apologies and trying to fight back the tears that formed in his eyes at every single one of them.
“I don’t know what we can do,” Patton whispered, his voice weak, like it always had been whenever he cried. “We don’t have any ideas or- or any clue what’s happening to him.”
“Patton.”
“Virgil, I’m scared.”
“I know you are, Patton. We all are. But we can’t let Princey know that.” In the brief silence, the air grew stiff and the feelings are guilt gripped at Logan’s head and chest pulling him down like an anchor into a sea of reminders that this time he just wasn’t enough. A swirling ocean of regrets and love confessions he’d never get to make. It drove him mad.
He slowly opened the door.
“Gentlemen,” he said quietly, nodding at them as a sign of greeting. “I was... unsuccessful in my mission.”
“Oh, Logan,” Patton said quietly. Logan never met his eyes, but he did notice the way Virgil and Patton’s hands were interlaced.
“Can I have a moment with him? A- Alone?” he asked nervously. “I just... I want to apologize.”
“Take all the time you need, Lo,” Virgil said softly. He gave Logan a tired thumbs-up before leaving him completely alone with the prince.
He sat on the edge of Roman’s bed, brushing hair out of the tired prince’s face. “Logan?” he asked with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to see the man beside him.
“I apologize, Roman, I didn't mean to wake you.”
“Yours is a face worth waking up for,” Roman said.
Logan blinked back tears but felt his face go scarlet. “Roman, I’m... sorry I couldn’t do better for you. I’m sorry for every petty fight we’ve gotten into. I’m sorry for being so stubborn. You deserve better than this.”
“Better than what, Logan?” Roman asked. “You can be an asshole sometimes, but I think that’s just another one of your charms. You’re stubborn but you’re also passionate. And brilliant. And so wonderfully handsome.”
Tears fell down Logan’s cheeks. “This isn’t you,” he whispered. “This is the poison talking.”
“What do you mean, mi corazón?”
“This isn’t you,” he repeated. “Because you could never return how I feel.”
Roman sat up weakly and Logan could see how he had grown skinny and pallid. If Logan didn’t know better he would think him to be a ghost. He placed a bony hand on Logan’s cheek and wiped away his tears. “You’re the smartest idiot I know,” he laughed. “I have loved you as the sun has loved the moon, bowing to its presence every night and watching in awe as you shine in the starlight. But perhaps you are the sun, for I am the plants, orbiting around you as you provide life and warmth. You are the universe, Logan, and I am a humble garden.”
Emotion overtook Logan’s body. His face stung as tears poured down his face and he quickly lost his composure. He found himself shaking with choked sobs, pressed against Roman’s chest. “This isn’t real,” he mumbled between weak breaths. “This is cruel.”
“Is love cruel?”
“It can be.”
“But love can be healing, too,” Roman said. He traced Logan’s jaw with his hand and ghosted his thumb, cracked and dry, over Logan’s soft lips. “Can I kiss you, Logan?”
“Are you really m- our prince?”
Roman smiled, pressing his forehead against Logan’s and looking down at the lips he had spent countless nights dreaming of. “I’ve always been yours, Logan.”
Logan’s breath hitched and he shut his eyes, afraid that if he opened them again he’d be waking up from a dream. He felt Roman’s thumb leave his lips and fall towards his neck as Roman’s lips met his.
Taste of your lips I’m on a ride.
Logan forgot about everything at that moment. He forgot about the guilt and pain. He forgot about the poison slowly killing the one he loves.
You’re toxic, I’m slipping under.
All that mattered was Roman’s lips on his. Roman’s hand against his neck and Roman’s fingers tugging at his hair in a way that drove him crazy.
With the taste of a poison paradise,
When they broke apart Logan’s heart was pounding but the bright smile on Roman’s face was infectious. Some of the color had magically returned to his face. He still didn’t look like himself, but he was no longer a mirror of death. He was the embodiment of hope. He was life.
Logan kissed him again.
I’m addicted to you.
Don’t you know that you’re toxic?
+1
Over the days that passed, Roman slowly regained his strength. He was able to eat more which helped him regain the weight he had lost. The color came back to his face and within a week he was back to his peppy, annoying self. Every morning Logan counted his blessings.
“So,” Roman cooed, pointing at Virgil sitting on Patton’s lap on the couch. “When are you two oblivious love birds finally going to get together?”
“We’re the oblivious ones?” Virgil scoffed.
“We’ve been in a QPR for three months,” Patton said with his head tilted to the side and his face twisted.
“WHAT?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?”
“Virgil said it would be obvious,” Patton justified sheepishly.
“You and Logan were too busy being gay fucks,” Virgil said. “We didn’t need your chaos tainting our civilized union.”
“Swear jar,” Logan said.
“And you owe me a dollar for the phrase ‘civilized union,’” Roman added.
“Sit your asses down so we can start movie night already,” Virgil said.
“Swear jar.”
“I’m gonna shove the swear jar about your-“
“VIRGIL!”
“Sorry, Patton.”
Logan laughed, letting himself fall against Roman’s side as the movie started. With his attention completely stolen by the feeling of Roman playing with his hair (which he quickly discovered is his favorite feeling in the world) he knew he wouldn’t be watching much of the movie.
He pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek and rested his head against Roman’s chest, letting out a satisfied hum as he listened to Roman’s heartbeat.
And I love what you do.
Don’t you know that you’re toxic?
His eyes began to feel heavy and he found himself fighting between wanting to fall asleep in Roman’s arms or staying awake to spend every possible moment admiring him.
Don’t you know that you’re toxic?
But when Roman caught him staring and leaned down to kiss him, he knew that sleep could wait.
Intoxicate me now with your lovin’ now.
I think I’m ready now
I think I’m ready now.
“What do you think about staying in my room tonight?” Roman whispered, trying to prevent Virgil and Patton from overhearing.
Intoxicate me now with your lovin’ now.
Logan smirked, pressing kisses to Roman’s neck and teasingly undoing the top three buttons of Roman’s shirt. “Sounds perfect,” he purred.”
I think I’m ready now.
#logince#ts logince#sanders sides#sanders sides fic#ts roman#sanders sides roman#roman sanders#ts logan#sanders sides logan#Logan sanders#my logince liver
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The Secrets a Book Can Tell
Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x OC x George Luz
Word Count: 2,564
Summary: Andrew and Luz watch a movie even though Luz just can’t seem to shut up, but soon they’re all called to Bastogne. Andrew remembers how he came into the possession of the book he refuses to die without, but then the possibility of dying seems to only get worse as they start the march to Bastogne.
Notes: This chapter was originally just gonna have a minor flashback with Albert, but since someone said something about wanting to learn more about Andrew’s past, I made that a whole part!
Part Eleven of We Happy Few
-
The darkness of the room would have been perfectly coupled with silence, moving and working together to create a peaceful place as the men of Easy Company watched a movie.
That silence, of course, was not going to happen, all in favor of Geroge Luz.
“Gotta penny?” He said as the scene changed. Andrew nudged his side, trying to get him to shut up. Andrew had just wanted to hold hands with the lovable goofball, but because he kept talking he kept drawing attention to himself.
“Shut up, Luz,” Toye said, not turning around.
“Come on, I’ve seen the move seventeen times.”
“And I haven’t,” Toye replies, turning his head to look at Luz. “So shut up.”
Luz, being Luz, didn’t pay any mind. “Gotta penny?”
Andrew nudged him again. “George, stop,” he whispered. He had only seen the movie once before, and he barely remembered where that line even was, if it existed. It seemed to be Luz’s favorite, and he persisted.
“Gotta penny?” His voice was becoming more exaggerated, and Andrew was a blushing mess.
“George, please, quit it.”
“C’mon, it’s my favorite part,” He whispers to Andrew before saying the line again. “Gotta penny?”
Toye looked back at him again, ready to kill and Andrew could see it. He prayed that Toye didn’t have his brass knuckles. Luz stayed focus on the screen. “Gotta pen-ny?”
The woman finally says it, and Luz cheers. “For fuck’s sake, George,” Andrew says, pinching the bridge of his nose. Admittedly, he did love the idiot, but he wanted a quiet movie where they wouldn’t get caught while doing slight, domestic things. Luz had deflected that by, well, being Luz. Luz turned to Andrew after, his always present goofy smile lurking on his face.
He leans over into Andrew’s ear, whispering, “You know you love me.”
As Luz pulls away, Andrew glares at him. It’s not a mean one, it’s just an annoyed one, and Luz knows it based on the little laugh that he lets out.
Going to the movie had already been a strangely emotional thing for Andrew. He didn’t let it show, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the first time he and Luz kissed before the movie (which they did before this one, just a lot more hastily than that first time) and the circumstances around that kiss. He also couldn’t stop thinking about how he had been pulled out of the said movie to kiss Liebgott.
Now, this time it wasn’t Liebgott, but they were pulled out of the movie -- everyone was. Welsh took up the attention of the room, standing up at the top of the stage in the front of the makeshift theatre. “Get your gear, everyone, we’re moving out. Take everything you’re gonna need.”
That’s not really what Welsh said, but Andrew was sent straight into getting ready so quickly that he couldn’t remember exactly what the Lieutenant said.
Andrew buttoned up his jacket as fast as possible, threw as many warm clothes his combat bag would carry as far down as possible, followed by a few packs of cigarettes and half a bar of chocolate that he had stolen with Liebgott from the canteen.
He slipped on his winter coat and hat before throwing the bag over his shoulder. As he did so, a book fell off his bed in the haste. He picked it up carefully like the book was so fragile that it would snap in half at too harsh of a touch.
It was All Quiet on the Western Front, the same copy and edition he had carried with him from Toccoa. He rubbed his finger over the now worn spine, moving to the corners of the cover. They had been bent over, rumpled, becoming soft. He opened the book, and other than his name written in a soft pencil, a message had been written in on the back of the front cover.
Remember, read to Luz!
Andrew’s fingertips touched the messy note, remembering how Luz had asked him to read to him that fateful night in Normandy. He sighed, slipping the book into the inside pocket of his winter coat and stepping out with the rest of the men, ready to get in the douche-and-a-half’s.
-
Andrew acquired All Quiet on the Western Front from his brother, Albert. Albert had always been a novice reader, in fact, his second choice for his major in college was literature, but he stuck with finance and business instead. Having no other real male figure to try and emulate in his day-to-day life, Andrew too picked up a love and real passion for reading.
It had started off small, with reading a new book once a month after Albert had moved out. It became a rock and grounding for Andrew to become more in tune with himself -- and to tune out his parents as well.
This soon escalated to two, to three, to four, averaging one a week. He couldn’t get enough of the words as they seemed to fly off the page, and he also couldn’t get enough from the escape of his parents. He read anything he could get his hands on, it was like an obsession.
All Quiet on the Western Front, though, wasn’t one of those books that he read in a week. Albert had left a copy behind, but it was well-read, torn in many places. There were even whole chapters missing from here they had been ripped out (Albert used them for inspiration and note-giving). What he could read, though, was mostly in German. Albert had went out and gone and bought a German edition of the book, learning the language just to translate the book. Andrew couldn’t understand it, other than the simple “Ja” here and there. It was a nightmare to read, and it was one of the things that Andrew had taken with him when he stole the truck and drove to Chicago.
“Al,” Andrew said one night as they sat on the couch after dinner. They had been listening to the radio, hearing updates about the war in the Pacific. Andrew had already looked into enlisting for the Army that morning. “Why in the name of God did you have to leave me a book in German?”
Albert shrugged. “Motivation, I guess.”
“Motivation for what?”
“To get you to visit me,” Albert said, smile wide on his face. Andrew now remembers that he and Albert did share a smile. There were several things that the two of them didn’t even come close to being similar in, but you couldn’t deny that the Marin boys had the same smile. “Took you, what, three, four years?”
Andrew hit his older brother’s shoulder. “I hardly call it a visit.”
“Then what is it?”
“An escape.”
“Yeah, that works.”
Andrew held the German edition in his hands for a moment before giving it over to Albert. “Half of it’s gone, by the way. You ripped out a lot.”
“I know,” Albert replied, taking the book and holding it up to the light. “You know, I forgot half of it.”
“The book?”
“Well, that, but I forgot half the German I learned.”
Andrew laughed. “What good you are to the Army.”
“That is why, my dear brother, you are going instead.”
Andrew sighed. “If they’ll take me.”
Albert looked over to Andrew. “They’ll take you, don’t worry. I hear they need guys for their new Airborne program.”
“The hell is that?”
“You think I know?”
Albert got up, placing the book on the coffee table before he walked over to his bookshelf. He scanned it for a minute before pulling out a newer copy of the same book -- this time, in English.
“Here,” Albert said as he gave Andrew the copy. “It’s brand new. You’re gonna need something to read when you have downtime.”
Albert and Andrew couldn’t have expected that downtime for reading to happen where the book actually took place, but that night, Andrew tucked the book away into his bag after writing his name on the inside cover, not sure when he was going to read it.
-
Andrew sat beside Liebgott and Babe, nestled between the two, his knees pulled up towards him to keep in as much warmth as possible. Everyone was talking to a replacement -the name he didn’t quite catch, maybe Ray? - what why he had so little on him.
“You need four pairs of socks,” Skip Muck tells him. “One for your feet, one for your hands, one for your neck and pair for the balls.”
Everyone seemed to agree. Everyone was asking the replacement of what he had on him and what he needed.
“You got cigarettes?” Someone asks, and the replacement nods.
“Yeah, I got a half-”
Andrew can’t hear the rest of the sentence as everyone grabs for cigarettes, even Liebgott and Babe. Andrew puts his hand on Lieb’s shoulder. “I got you a pack, calm down. I’ll get it out when we stop.”
“You gotta coat?” Liebgott asks. And he asks it again. He keeps asking it until another matter is deemed more pressing, that of which he turns to look at Babe and Andrew to say, “I gotta piss.”
“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Andrew tells him.
“No shit,” Liebgott says, turning away. Andrew knows that Lieb is being a little short with him, but that’s mainly due to the fact that he still felt awkward around Babe after what happened before Eindhoven. Despite this, Liebgott moved his hand around Andrew’s waist, most of their bodies covered by the winter coats so that no one would see it. He accomplished this by timing it with when the truck lurched as it went over a rough patch on the dirt road, knocking everyone into each other. This was a perfect time, Liebgott seemed to decide, that he give a little reassuring squeeze to Andrew.
“Why the hell are we even comin’ over here anyway?” Guarnere asks everyone. “We’re supposed to jump outta planes, not ride out and march to the battlefield.” Andrew knew that Guarnere was always somewhat passionate about the things he thought were problems. “This is the fourth Army problem, right? They should be sendin’ in the sixty-eighth, not the one-o-one.”
Andrew leaned his head up to get his voice over to Guarnere. “We’re still Army, Guarnere. They’re gonna send us wherever the hell they want to. It doesn’t matter if we’re armored or not.”
“The hell do you know, Marin?” Guarnere says.
“Guarnere, where the hell have you been the last two years?” Andrew replies. “You of all people should know that Mister Eisenhower doesn’t give a shit about who gets sent in. As long as the problem gets resolved, they could send in the fucking coast guard and he couldn’t give a shit.”
Guarnere turns, patting the replacement on the shoulder. “That’s Andrew Marin. Second smartest guy in the company.”
“Who’s first?”
“That’s Bull.”
Andrew looked down, smiling to himself. It didn’t sound like a lot, but to be second to Bull? He could only dream.
As the truck came to a stop, Andrew, Babe, and Liebgott were the first out, and Babe and Andrew stood by a pit that had been filled with gas, waiting for one of the Lieutenants to get it lit. Andrew almost did it with his lighter, but he needed it -- he smoked too much to not have one on him. They also waited on Liebgott, who had gone to resolve the pressing matter of having to piss.
“It’s so goddamn cold, Babe,” Andrew says as the fire finally reaches them. Andrew didn’t think that the smell of burning gas would actually be comforting.
“Remember how they said we’d be home by Christmas?” Babe tells him. “Way back before Market Garden?”
“Jesus, yeah, I do,” Andrew laughs. “I wrote to my brother about it too. What a load of good that does now.”
“Hey, at least you and Liebgott will be together for Christmas.”
“Yeah, if we don’t freeze our asses off.”
“Hey, kiddos,” Liebgott says as he returns to Babe and Andrew. “How’s the fire?”
“No one else is gonna here us, you don’t have to say kiddos, Lieb,” Andrew tells him. “It’s good. How was the piss?”
“As good as a piss can get while you’re freezing your ass off,” Liebgott replies, standing beside Andrew. “I would not recommend it.”
Andrew chuckles, looking up from the fire and out to the road. He doesn’t quite see it at first, but there’s movement. A lot of movement. Men, disheveled and battered and bruised, walking on the road, out of the town they were supposed to go into. Andrew taps on Liebgott, making him look at the marching men.
“What the hell happened to them?” Babe asked. “They look like complete shit.”
“I have no idea, Babe.”
Andrew looked over to Liebgott, who didn’t say anything. He just looked back at Andrew, and Andrew could feel just how scared they both were. Not of what was ahead, but for each other, worried if they would get through the hell that walked before them alive. If the guys there had only been in for a month and looked like this when they were pulling out — while it was starting to get cold — what the hell was going to happen to the rest of them?
Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Guarnere talking to one of the men. Now, if there was anyone who only took the absolute truth, it was Guarnere.
“I’ll go talk to Gonorrhea,” Andrew tells them. “Just get what you can find, yeah?”
“Drew, what-“ Liebgott starts, and Andrew turns around. “What do you expect him to know?”
“He’s talking to one of ‘em, so he knows more than us,” Andrew says. “Plus, he holds more power, being as we’re only tech corporals and he’s a goddamn sergeant.”
Liebgott purses his lips before he sighs. “Fine, but be careful, alright?”
“I will be. We promised, remember?”
With that, Andrew turned and walked to Guarnere, who had just stopped talking to the soldier from the fourth army. “Bill, what’s going on?”
Guarnere looks at Andrew. “It’s a goddamn suicide mission, that’s what it is,” Guarnere tells him. “They probably went in there with 200 guys, now they’re comin’ out with 93. Just get their ammo and pray to God you’re not gonna be dead before your birthday, Marin.”
Guarnere walks off to get ammo from the men before Andrew can ask another question. He steps back from the road. His birthday is in less than two weeks and Guarnere was telling him that he might die before then. Terrible thought, he knows, but that’s the truth. Anyone could die out there, be it God’s will or good ol’ Mr. Hitler’s.
Maybe that’s why Andrew brought his book, because he knew he wouldn’t die without it. Because he knew that if he did die, no one else could have that copy, with the worn cover and dog eared pages and cracked spine and message about Luz talking about a promise he hadn’t quite carried out yet, because if he wasn’t able to read it to Luz, no one would know but him and Luz. Not another soul could have known what happened on that night in D-Day, only Andrew, Luz, and All Quiet on the Western Front.
-
tag list: @alienoresimagines @fromcrossroadstoking @easyroses @leximus98 if you want to be added, please let me know!
#band of brothers#joseph liebgott x oc#joseph liebgott#george luz x oc#george luz#andrew marin#babe heffron#bill guarnere#joe toye#harry welsh
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Band of Brothers Week 2 Day 1: Hobby
It's Joe's first day back at the gym since his accident and recovery, and George is determined to film every second of it. I GOT THIS IN RIGHT ON TIME YAY FOR WRITER'S BLOCK "Remind me why you're coming with me again?" George grins, tossing Joe the keys to his car as they make their way out of the apartment. "C'mon, it's your first time going to the gym after recovery! I want to document every moment." "You're going to film me. At a public gym," Joe deadpans, and really, he should've known. It's his own fault for assuming George would be perfectly normal. "You betcha," his boyfriend remarks happily, sliding into the passenger's seat. "I'm kinda pissed that I didn't think to film the first time you drove after recovering." "Why don't you just do it now?" He replies sarcastically, but notices the way George's face lights up. "No. I was kidding." "It'll be fun! We can make a whole series of home videos to show our future kids," George whines, putting the puppy-dog eyes on to full power. "Babyyyyyyy..." "Uh-uh," Joe shakes his head firmly. "Nope. Not gonna work, Luz. I've become immune to your tricks." Sliding a hand up his boyfriend's thigh, George smirks. "Oh, really?" Leaning in close to Joe's ear, he lowers his voice dangerously. "I know something else we can film. A different kind of workout." "Cute. Maybe later." George huffs, crossing his arms and falling back into his seat. "Buzzkill." "I'm letting you film me at the gym. You should count that as a win." "Believe me, I am." ****** The moment they walk in the door of the fitness center, Luz whips out his phone, earning a long-suffering sigh from Joe as the beep signals the start of a video recording. "Well, show us around!" George prompts, and, having been with the man for years now, Toye just rolls with it. "Hi MTV, this is Joe Toye, and welcome to my crib," he makes a sweeping motion across the gym, pretty sparse for a Saturday morning. "Uh, here it is." "What do you do first?" George questions, and Joe slings his bag over his shoulder and leads him towards the locker rooms. "You can't film in there, Georgie." "Oh, right," blessedly, George stops recording until they're back out in the main area of the gym, near the cardio equipment. "Okay, Joe. What first?" "Well, you've got to do a warm up first so you don't pull anything during the workout. I usually do five minutes of stretching and ten minutes of cardio." Beaming, George backs up to get a wide shot of Joe beginning to stretch. "Show us what you've got, Toye." Every couple of moments, Joe's stretching is punctuated by various exclamations from his boyfriend. "Woah, look at those triceps!" "Damn, I'm a lucky man." "That ass!" Joe glares up at him from his lunges, but a smile still plays on his lips nonetheless. "We haven't even gotten to the actual routine yet." "I know," George replies innocently. "In just enjoying the show." With a roll of his eyes and a swig from his water bottle, Joe's off to the treadmills, the shiny gold plates on his prosthetic glistening in the fluorescent light of the gym. George is proud of him for wearing shorts — when he first got his prosthetic leg, he wouldn't wear anything but pants. He always insisted that the matte-black and gold prosthetic was badass, but it took awhile for Joe to believe it too. Now, as he runs, the point at his knee where the prosthetic and real leg are joined is visible, the reddish scarring still apparent if someone is paying close attention. But it still moves fluidly with the rest of his body, and for all he can tell, George thinks that Joe looks back to his normal self. "Lookin' good, baby," he praises as Joe hops off of the machine, taking yet another pull from his water bottle. "I'm proud of you." "Don't get all mushy-gushy on me at the beginning of our session," Joe jokes. "At this rate, you'll be tearing up during cool-down." "I don't doubt that." ****** "Holy fuck, you do that much weight?" George exclaimed, dumbfounded as his boyfriend moves the pin down on the machine to support even more weight. "Jesus. What's this exercise again?" "Front lat pulls downs," he answers patiently. "Works the back and shoulder muscles." "Mm, you have nice shoulders." Toye snorts. "You think I have a nice everything." "So what, I'm a bit biased," Luz shrugs. After the last set, Joe exhales loudly, shaking out his arms. "I've got one more exercise, and I honestly don't know how it's going to go. It's leg extension." George frowns. "You did this in physical therapy, right?" He nods. "Yeah, but I want to use my normal weight." George pauses the recording for a moment. "Don't push yourself. No one's gonna think less of you for doing less weight and building yourself back up." He opens his mouth to say something, but George cuts him off. "So help me, Joe, if you say that you'll think less of yourself, there's gonna be a serious wake up call." "And what would that be?" Breezing his way into Joe's personal space, George gets in close to his ear. "I'll make you fuck me 'til I cry." "That doesn't sound like a punishment at all," he husks back. "What's my better option?" "Oh, there was meant to be a reward?" George steps back from him, gazing at him in mock confusion. "Right. Well, for starters, you'll get a higher self-esteem —" "Georgie." "Fine. You'll have me," he smirks dangerously. "Whatever you want to do to me. Go for it." "Can we skip the rest of the session?" Joe growls in that voice that George can't resist, no matter what. "Fine. Get your stuff out of the locker room. I'll be in the car, because if I follow you to change, I'll jump you." ****** In the days to come, George would edit the video into a cute little home movie, complete with a little intro and everything. While he's working on the final project, Joe approaches him from behind, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's neck and shoulders. "Looks good, Georgie." "Thanks," and with a quick turn of his head, he presses a quick peck to Joe's lips. "Like I said, I really am proud of you. It's great to see you doing what you love again." "What, you?" Joe teases, and George huffs out a laugh. "Yes, but no. You know what I mean." "Thank you," he suddenly sighs, hugging his boyfriend tighter. "For being here. For caring. Even if you care a little too much sometimes." "I'll always be here, Joe. I promise."
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Chapter 7: One Step Forward, Ten Steps Backwards
Seth's voice rang through the darkness, Zera opened her eyes and found herself looking up at him. "Zera, you zoned out there or what?"
"I'm sorry, what?" She looked around to see where they were. The last thing she could remember was Luz. Were they leaving already?
"I was telling, I've noticed you seem to be a little sick. What does your father say about it?" Seth's eyes seemed intensely focused on her.
"Nothing because I'm not sick," Zera answered ignoring the confusion that left her feeling a bit foggy. Seth glared at his niece who merely waved him off. "You're reading too much into nothing."
"Zera. Darling, I know you are, you need to talk about whatever this is." Seth urged her, frowning. "I don't understand why you are ignoring something as concerning as this."
Taking a deep breath, Zera began, "Seth, if it happens again, then I will. I promise." She assured him," Where are we going now?"
"I'll be taking you to my place, we'll drop by here every day and use the library to keep you up to speed here."
"Why this library?"
"Time passes differently in Heaven, it doesn't travel as quickly as Earth," Seth explained, humming softly as he stood in front of her. "Now let's get back."
Zera nodded and closed her eyes, she felt a soft breeze brush past her. When she opened her eyes, Zera found herself in Seth's living room, "Where am I sleeping?"
"You'll be in my room, I'll be sleeping here," Seth answered, grabbing some blankets from a closet. Setting them down on the couch, he walked her to his room. "You can use my closet to put your luggage away if you want." Seth offered, opening his door and gestured for her to walk in.
The room was a decent size, the bed was rather large with grey sheets and beige pillows. The sheet was neatly tucked in under the mattress. Zera looked to Seth, "Thank you."
He smiled at her and nodded, "Of course, "I'll let you get settled in. Get some rest." Seth gave her a warning smile, then closed the door behind him as he returned to the living room.
Zera moved towards the door and rested her palm on it. She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, feeling her energy extending towards it, Zera stepped back. She examined the door to ensure she properly sealed it.
She laid back on the bed and screamed in frustration, then looked towards the door. Waiting several minutes and felt relieved that Seth didn't seem to hear her. "Luz that was a wasted trip."
"I wouldn't necessarily say it was." He chirped into her car.
She rolled her eyes and glanced towards the direction and sat up in alarm when she saw the shadowy figure lying beside her. "L-Luz?"
"Were you expecting someone else?" The figure chuckled and she just stared in awe. "I was able to work some magic while you were spiraling." Luz continued and raised a hand in the air. As if beckoning her to come closer to him, he hummed a soft tune as she did. Immediately, she felt a sharp pain in her chest and the air in her lungs were forced out from her.
From Zera's chest came a small box, she gasped for breath as her shaky arms supported her on the bed. The box fell on to the bed and she coughed out. "What the hell is that?" She wheezed.
"Madeline's file."
Zera's eyes widened and she picked it up, "How did you...?"
"I am a man of many talents little one." Luz purred as he laid down fully on the bed.
Zera held up the box and examined it closely, turning the box over and she looked at Luz. His figure seemed to be watching her, she opened the box, "...are you sure this is Madeline's?"
"Yes," Luz answered. Suspicious of her question, he sat upon the bed.
"You're sure it's... up to date?" Zera looked up from the box, Luz nodded and she pulled out a notebook and opened it up."
"Of course it is, the archangels keep track of everyone and everything," Luz responded, concern creeping into his voice. "Why are you asking?"
"Half the notebook is blank," Zera began and Luz interrupted.
"That means she's still among the living."
"The last here is..." Zera pointed and gave up trying to decipher the characters on the page. "This doesn't look like any human language Luz."
Luz patted the space between them and Zera set down the notebook, he put a hand to the page without making contact with it. He muttered to himself, then looked towards her. "The last record of Madeline states she was last existing in 1415AD. She was last seen with runaway Azazel Colt and Aviana, last name unknown."
Zera snarled, "Damn it!" She screeched as she slammed her fist on the box, shattering it. "That's over 600 years ago Luz! She could be anywhere! This did nothing to help find her!"
The light began to drain and Zera's chest tightened with fear, Luz's voice was so low and even she felt chills. "It is not becoming of you to throw a tantrum little Colt. You want to be grown, then prove you are grown. When things do not go your way, what should you do instead of bitching and moaning about it."
The light slowly returned and Zera took a deep breath before answering, "I have to find another way to get what I need."
Luz gave a grin, fangs and pearly white teeth visible, "There you go."
Zera nodded slightly unnerved and looked at the broken box, furrowing her brows. "Aviana is too loyal to father to say anything. Father won't either. I can't push mother...perhaps," she looked up at Luz, "perhaps I could talk to my grandmother."
"You could if you think that would be the best course of action." Luz agreed and pointed to the door, "Either way, he is your ticket to her."
"I know he is, and I know to ensure he takes me to her," Zera responded as she set the notebook in her bag.
There was a knock on the door, Zera looked at it and whispered, "Luz, leave."
The shadowy figure of Luz dissipated and Zera undid the magic block on the door. She got up to unlock it only to find Aviana standing in front of Seth on the other side of the door. "See? I told you she was in one piece." He snapped at the brunette.
"Avi?"
"You didn't call yet, we wanted to make sure you're okay," Aviana responded, completely ignoring Seth and giving Zera a warm smile.
"Of course I am Avi." Zera smiled reassuringly in return, "You can let father know that I'm perfectly fine and I'm doing my school work." Zera giggled, "I haven't lost my sanity quite yet."
"Oh? You had sanity?" Aviana smirked. "Ain't that a miracle."
Zera giggled, "Very clever Avi."
Aviana gave the smaller girl a tight hug, "Just call your father so he doesn't explode. He almost came here, but Elijah was able to talk him into sending me instead."
Zera nodded, "Okay, I'll give him a ring." Aviana waited at the door while Zera dialed Azazel's number. On the second ring, he picked up, "Father~!"
"Zera Blackwell, what have you been doing? Why haven't you called?" Azazel snapped as soon as he heard his daughter's voice.
Zera huffed loudly and spoke, "I'm sorry Father, I was being told the house rules and then we had to get groceries because Seth apparently had none." She fibbed as she tapped her foot on the ground, clearly irritated.
"I see...all is...safe then?" Azazel asked, speaking slowly with a considerably softened tone.
The question and the sound his voice carried had caught Zera completely off guard, "Safe?... Yes, of course, it is." She assured, absentmindedly hugging herself.
There was a long silence, Zera almost thought that Azazel had hung up the phone before he spoke again. "Good, I know I..." His voice trailed off and there was another long pause before Zera could hear him clear his throat. "I expect you to complete your studies, and they had better be perfect. If I hear otherwise-"
The sudden change in subject and air of the conversation had jarred Zera lightly and agitated her. She couldn't help but explode when she cut him off, "Oh fuck off. I don't understand why you're getting so worked up, you have left me in the care of your brother. He is a better company than John was, I'm fine and Seth is in charge of my studies outside of home. Do me a favor and piss off." Zera snarled and crushed the phone in her grip, cutting her ear.
Aviana sighed, "You can't just take your anger out on the things around you. Now look, Seth doesn't have a phone anymore."
"He can buy himself a new phone. Azazel can go bite it. I don't care." Zera hissed, and she could feel her cheeks suddenly begin to warm. Ignoring it for the moment, she turned towards Seth. "Now can we get back to studies? I want to try and get tomorrow's portion out of the way."
Seth sighed and nodded, "Just get it from the bookshelf, on the bottom left."
Aviana glanced towards Seth in disbelief, "You actually have her wanting to do school work?"
"When you figure out how she works, compromise is easy." Seth shrugged.
Zera began to feel lightheaded as she stumbled towards the bookshelf. The adults had began to notice this and exchanged concerned looks, Aviana then reached out towards her. "Zera? Are you okay?"
"I-I'm fffine..." Zera waved her off, then used the steel bookshelf for support. Her vision started to blur and the voices that were supposed to belong to her uncle and best friend were muddled together. The next thing Zera knew, she could barely hear Luz and everything faded to black as she felt a sharp pain on her nose.
#Secrets Unveiled#Demon’s Path#Chapter 7: One Step Forward Ten Steps Backwards#Zera Blackwell#Azazel Colt#Elijah Pond#Seth Colt
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