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#the way I'm so desperate to tell this final story to wrap up Dangerous Dreams tho omigod
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍
Aww, thank you for dropping this off in my askbox! Also oh god, I have so many favorite fics that I wrote, how will I ever choose just five? Anyway, these are arguably my favorite five fics that I wrote.
We Are Pilots (Tron Legacy, Sam/Tron, 90k words) changed my life. I answered a Tron Kink Meme fill with the kind of insane fervor that I later felt when writing another fic on this short list, and the response was phenomenal and overwhelming. This fic was the confidence booster of a lifetime and made me feel that actually, I am capable of writing stories on an epic scale. This fic went through several full rewrites and the final one is my favorite because this was where I really learned to let a story breathe and to make the environment as immersive as possible.
Wishing Well (Captain America: The First Avenger, 10k words) was a capkinkmeme fill (I was really big on LJ anon kink memes and I miss those so much for the unhinged communal vibes) and I love this short tragic tale of all the love that couldn't be. If I need something sad and cathartic, I read this fic. I need to feel the tragedy. I committed so hard to the bit that I deleted a fourth chapter set during Iron Man 2 and replaced it with a ficmix playlist.
born in a thunderstorm (Star Trek AOS/Guardians of the Galaxy/Thor Ragnarok/Captain Mavel, Kirk/McCoy, 68k) is the most unhinged thing I thought up since I was a middle schooler daydreaming a crossover of a bunch of Saturday morning cartoons and interestingly dubbed anime, and since I was a high schooler who went all out on a Kingdom Hearts fic by printing the screenplays for several Disney movies so that I can mimic the actual game as closely as possible. To think that this is the STXI fic I ended up writing after years of wanting to and never doing so out of fear I'd fuck up and get gatekept out of Star Trek.
Sweather Weather (Star Wars, Din/Luke, 22k) won the fight with Gravity Well because fall is here and the cozy vibes are strong in this one. Years back, I tried to write a cozy vibes fic and flamed out because I was a fool and didn't stick to the "slice of life" mentality. Anyway, this is my slice of life/cozy vibes fic and I adore it.
The Storm (Star Wars, Din/Luke, 45k) is the story I wrote in a fever dream, fueled by the song "Dangerous Dreams" by Lebrock, and my life has not been the same since then. This story is still so vivid to me. I still think about the claustrophic setting, the old stone temple on a forgotten world ravaged by weeks-long thunderstorms, and how that forged a curiosity and connection between two people whose cultures and ways of life were destroyed by the Empire yet still survived. I still think about this fic the way I think about stories that just seared themselves into my brain and won't go away (like the other fics on this list, Peter Jackson's LOTR trilogy, and Andor). It's all fucking insane. How the fuck did I write that?
Anyway, appreciate getting this ask! Now back to writing the next chapter of the 4th story of the series spun out of The Storm.
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harleychick91 · 3 months
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New Story
El Mayarah (M)
Summary: After waking from a recurring dream, Kara tells Lena the truth about her identity and how she feels. Nothing goes as the Kryptonian hopes. After being attacked by The Children of Liberty, the only way to save Lena’s life is to take her to Argo City. What happens there will change everything.
Chapter One
Kara’s POV
Ever since Reign was defeated and The Children of Liberty gained power in the media, I've had nightmares. Some were about fighting The World Killers, losing, and them killing everyone I cared for or The Children of Liberty killing all aliens and everyone who helped aliens. Either way, everybody I loved or cared about ended up dying and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
The only way I could go back to sleep was making a cup of tea and wrapping myself in the blanket Lena had left after a movie night. Sipping the warm liquid, I thought about the last few months. Things are so messed up. Lena and Supergirl are at odds because of kryptonite and she doesn't know the truth. It's been too long. It won't end well when I tell Lena who Kara Danvers really is.
Flipping through Netflix, I put on a comfort show and let it play in the background. Lena still made me the kryptonite armor even after our fight. And she gave Mom the recipe to make more Harun-El. I'm so confused.
Desperately needing sleep, I rinsed my mug and went back to bed. Since the blanket still smelled like Lena's apartment, I brought it to bed with me. Nuzzling my face into it, I inhaled the calming scent.
Waking in my bed, I heard a knock on my door. Rushing to answer it, Brainy stood before me. "Brainy? What are you doing here?"
"You're talking to me. And you know who I am." His brow creased. "Supergirl is-,"
"You can't say that! " Pulling him inside, I closed the door quickly. "It's dangerous to walk around without your image inducer turned on."
"Do we know each other? I am Brainiac 5. A 12th level intellect. The Legionnaires call me Brainy." He walked around my apartment aimlessly looking around.
"Yes, we know each other. Mon-El sent you." Why does this feel so familiar?
"Yes. To make sure your neuro pathways are intact." Brainy picked up a plant and examined it. "Your brain is in remarkable health for someone languishing in a coma."
Oh, Rao. "The coma dream palace thing I was in," I sighed. Not this dream again. "Yes, you think I'm in a coma. I was, but I'm not anymore."
"Did I bury the lead?" His head tilted. "You've been in a coma for two days."
"I know. My subconscious feels most at ease here and so on."
"Yes, you've been in a coma."
No matter what I say, it's still going to play out. Rubbing my face, I went along with it. "I'm in my loft."
"Oh! This is just where your subconscious feels most comfortable. We're not really in your loft."
This can't be happening. "If I'm in a coma, how are you here?" I watched as the man continued to walk around my apartment.
"Mon-El woke me from hyper sleep to communicate with you on behalf of him and your D.E.O. patriates. 31st century technology. It's also what's keeping you alive."
"Alive?"
"Reign defeated you," he spoke curiously. "Don't you remember?"
Flashes of the fight and Alex finding me in the rubble flashed through my mind. Dread filled me. "No. This…Reign is still out there. People are dying. I need to wake up." Rushing to my door, I tried to open it to no avail.
"I don't think you're listening to me." I tried pulling harder but the door wouldn't give. "Could we maybe try relaxing for a bit?"
After finally giving up on the door, I paced the loft. "This is torture," I huffed. Sitting on the couch, I watched as Brainy inspected my kitchen. "What are you looking for?"
"Any sign of decay or damage. In a simulation like this, it can show up in any type of fashion. I want to make sure there's nothing that will harm your reality reentry."
"Reality reentry?" I held a pillow to my chest.
"If you're not properly prepared, you could go into shock. Some people die instantly."
"Wait, does that mean I'm ready to wake up?" Getting to my feet, I tossed the pillow. "Is there anything I need to do?" I made my way towards the door again.
"This is the manifest of your subconscious and that's the only way in or out. Logic says you need to walk through it."
Trying the door again, it wouldn't budge. "It's not opening." I continued to pull. "Why isn't it opening?"
"We drained the tank and you've suffered no ill effects of hibernation." Boiling water, Brainy sipped a cup of tea. I bit my lip realizing he used some of Lena's favorite tea. "Everything is physically fine. There must be a different reason your mind is keeping you here."
"You're saying I'm keeping myself here?" I scoffed. "That doesn't make any sense. I'm the one who wants out of here." I tried punching through the door but was only knocked back.
"Is there a reason your subconscious wants you to stay here? Self preservation perhaps? You were badly beaten." He sipped more tea as he sat on the couch. "Fear can be powerful."
"I am not afraid." I tried using my heat vision until everything around us was destroyed. Frustrated, I started to clean.
"Is there something different about this version of your loft? Something that stands out."
Placing some items on my coffee table, I looked around. My stomach dropped seeing coats, shoes, and other little things that weren't mine. A lot of Lena's things are here. Things that aren't actually in my loft. This is new. The dream has never taken this path before. Turning my gaze to the picture in hand, it was one I took of us. We were cheek to cheek and smiling.
"You've noticed something," Brainy's voice trailed. "Who is this brunette woman?" He picked up a nearby picture I kept on the side table. "Your mate? Mon-El said you were single."
"No. She's…just a friend." My stomach fell. I don't want her to be just a friend.
The man studied me. "You want her to be your mate." His head tilted. "You could be stuck because you're scared."
"I've not told her that I'm Supergirl. She'll hate me." I swallowed hard seeing the brunette in question appear sitting in my armchair. Walking towards her, I wrapped Lena in my arms. "I miss you."
"I'm right here, Kara," Lena nuzzled her face in my neck, holding me tightly.
"She appeared to you for a reason," he coaxed. "What is it?"
Releasing the shorter woman, I turned towards Brainy. "Possibly because I have to face the fact that I've had feelings for her?"
His brow creased. "But you love Mon-El."
"You can love more than one person at a time, I think." I took the safer option, falling for Mon-El. Loving him was easier than loving Lena. He was a certain thing. She's not.
"And now?" Brainy's attention shifted.
Turning back to dream Lena, I cupped her face. The action caused a warm smile to appear. "To get out of here I have to admit to myself that I love her…." That thought terrifies me.
My alarm woke me from my Lena, Brainy, coma dream. Staring at the ceiling, I thought about Lena and my feelings for her. I am so screwed. I need to bite the figurative bullet and tell her. I'd rather bite a real one.
Continue reading on AO3 or FFN
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54436363
FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336503/1/El-Mayarah
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School Prize Night
(A Good night, Mr Cavill Sequel)
Part 1 - Through my eyes
07/07/2021
Pairing: teacher!Henry Cavill x plus-size teacher!reader (3rd person)
Word Count: 2,531
Warnings: rpf, body issues, self-loathing, angst, sexual innuendos, comforting, fluff, Henry being the sweetest boyfriend a (plus-size) girl could ask for
Summary: It's School Prize Night at Miss Y/L/N and Mr Cavill's school. But as she is getting ready for the event, she finds it impossible to accept her reflection in the mirror.
A/N: As I already feared, this dream of a man simply refuses to leave my thoughts. And so I used the first day of the summer holidays to come up with a four part sequel to Good night, Mr Cavill. So here is the first part. I'm afraid it has become a little angsty, but I promise to make it up to you with a lot of teasing and passion in the other parts.
Picture found on Pinterest
If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.
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For a long time she had been wondering what to say whenever someone asked her what her special talent was. Now she knew, pinching her paunch harshly between her fingers until it formed a prominent, round bulge. Self-loathing. That’s what she was good at. A profession she had perfected over the last years.
And as if to prove her point, half the contents of her wardrobe lay scattered around her feet, mocking her with all their colourful beauty that magically turned into hideous abominations as soon as they covered her form. If she didn’t know any better, she would let herself believe that she was somehow cursed—a gorgeous princess trapped inside the body of a manatee. But sadly it wasn’t that simple and instead of an evil witch she could only blame herself for the reflection she saw in the mirror.
Giving herself another once over, she actually considered covering her eyes to spare herself the view, when thankfully her eyes seemed to have mercy on her tortured soul and salty tears began to blur her vision. Too late, as she noticed. The gears of self-hate had already started to turn and once they were in motion, nothing could stop them, pulling her deeper and deeper into the darkness.
She hardly realised that her whole body was trembling by now, her knees finally giving out underneath the weight of the world that pressed down upon her shoulders, making her sink onto the plush carpet with a heartbroken sob while the world around her fell away.
“Darling?” The familiar voice came from somewhere down the hallway, but she couldn’t hear it in the state she was in. “Do you have any idea how to tie a decent Windsor knot? I’ve watched this stupid video about a million times by now and I just can’t seem to—“
His heart almost stopped beating as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the pitiful picture of misery that used to be his girlfriend, crumbled into a tight package in front of the mirror.
“Y/N?” But instead of an answer there just came another soul shaking sob from the huddled creature and he didn’t waste another second to get over to her. “Whatever is the matter, love?” His voice was warm and soothing as he squatted down beside her, but it was still not enough to break through to her. Desperate to find a clue as to what might have caused her distress, he took in the setting and when his eyes finally landed on the pile of clothes that surrounded her devastated form, he suddenly understood.
With a sigh he sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug before he pulled her onto his lap. “Sh, darling. Don’t cry,” he cooed, rocking her in his arms like a child. Slowly his hand drifted across her hair, as if his touch could just stroke her pain away, his lips tenderly pressing down on the crown of her head, before his cheek finally came to rest there.
“Well, what else am I supposed to do,” she croaked hoarsely, and the only thing that pained him more than the agony in her voice were her next words, “considering that you will leave me someday soon.”
He knew that it was only her insecurity speaking and yet he felt a bit slighted that she still couldn’t fully believe his feelings for her were nothing but true.
“Now why would I do that?” he muttered into her hair as calmly as he could, “I love you, Y/N, and as long as you don’t want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”
Something about his words must have finally gotten through to her as he could feel the sobs die away bit by bit and he was almost positive that he would find a small smile on her face when she wriggled out of his embrace, but to his surprise he was met with a pair of defiant eyes.
“How can you be so sure of that? It’s only been three months, Hen. That’s probably just the hormones talking, and once they’re back to their normal levels, you’ll finally see the real me. And I can’t blame you if you want to run as soon as you realise what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Hey!” he barked, his hands clutching her face in a firm grip to make her look at him. “You know how much I hate when you talk about yourself like that.”
“Yeah, well, I guess it’s easier to love yourself when one looks like you,” she spat and he regretted his harsh words instantly as he saw the tears that were threatening to fall again.
“Oh, no, darling. No, no, no. This is not about me and my body image, it’s about you.” He sighed again, his jaw clenching dangerously and he needed to close his eyes for a second to force his anger back down to its source. “I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to see yourself the way I do, maybe not, but that doesn’t give you the right to question the way I feel for you. You see, just because it’s hard for you to love yourself, doesn’t mean it’s hard for me as well.”
And there they were, the tears that had been threatening to fall again, streaming down her cheeks freely now. “I’m so sorry, Hen. I should never have—“
“You bloody well shouldn’t have,” he said sternly, but then his eyes softened like they always did whenever he looked at her and he pulled her closer to press his lips to her forehead in a symbol of forgiveness.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, her head fell down onto his shoulder and she nuzzled his warm skin affectionately. “Ugh, I’m such a mess,” she mumbled, and he could feel her lips move against his skin.
“No, you’re not, darling. Like so many, you’ve been traumatised by an ideal created by the media and greedy companies, telling you to constantly chase after their standard of beauty instead of focusing on those things that truly matter.”
For a moment, a deafening silence settled between them, but he knew she simply needed a while to think about his words. And just when he could feel the uneasiness of doubt crawl from the pit of his stomach, she sighed, a deep sound of realisation that soothed his worry.
“I guess you’re right,” her muffled voice came to his ears from the crook of his neck. “You always are. Perfect idiot.”
Her little remark coaxed an amused chuckle from his chest and he could feel her body tremble in his arms from the vibration. But when his face fell upon their reflection in the mirror, the short moment of lightness suddenly died away and he wished with all his heart that just once he could give her his eyes before he would lift her around her body so she could feel what he felt whenever he looked at her. Grasp the reason why he loved her so much and why he never wanted to look at anyone else for the rest of his days. If only—
Silently he signalled it was time for them to get up and as soon as he stood, he offered her his hand and pulled her up against his chest. Colliding softly with his firm pecs, she could feel his lips brush against her ear, his deep voice causing a shiver to run across her skin.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his hands drifting over the small of her back and down to her full cheeks, squeezing them reassuringly.
“Of course I do.”
“Then close your eyes.”
And so she did, without hesitation. Slowly she could feel his hands glide up her body again, stopping at her waist when he ordered, “Now turn around.”
His strong hands guided her as she carefully obeyed his wish again and she could feel his hot palms come to rest on her stomach, her back securely leant against his chest.
“Hold out your hands, sweetheart, palms facing upwards,” he demanded, and she wasn’t sure what exactly caused the heat to pulse through her nether regions, his hot breath that fanned across her shoulder, the authority in his voice, or the enticing combination of both. She had no idea what he was up to, but she couldn’t help the slight pang she felt when his hands suddenly left her body. He must have picked up on the little twitch of her lips before she could stop herself from pouting, judging from the triumphant chuckle that made his chest quake. Cocksure bastard.
But then she could feel his touch again, his fingers gently gliding along her forearm until his hands pushed underneath hers.
“Let me show you something, darling.” And as if the dark timbre of his voice would actually leave her a choice but to let him take over from here, his lips ghosted across the sensitive spot of her neck to ensure her compliance.
She was still trying to concentrate again when she felt something squishy and warm underneath her fingertips and it actually took her a second to realise that he had brought their joined hands to her belly. On reflex, she tried to pull away, but his grip on her tightened to hold her back.
“No,” he growled, his lips close to her ear again. “I want you to feel yourself, to try and see yourself through my eyes. Just a few minutes, that’s all I ask.” But still he didn’t proceed until he could feel her resistance melt away. “Can you feel how soft your belly is? So velvety smooth, it’s practically inviting you to touch it, to caress it, to relish in its malleability. Mmmh, so wonderfully soft,” he moaned his appreciation, making her insides tingle pleasantly.
“And here, can you feel this?” He guided her hands towards her hips, pressing her fingertips into the supple flesh. Slowly moving back and forth, she could make out the small ripples he had probably wanted her to notice. “I know you hate your stretch marks, but whoever decided to call them that probably had no idea what they truly are.” He made a short pause to emphasise his next words. “They’re tiger stripes. And you earned them all on your way to becoming the strong tigress you are. So be proud of them.”
She had wanted to protest when his lips pressed lovingly to her temple, a gesture that always made her soft for him, and her will to speak up against his sugarcoating of her flaws fizzled out.
“Mmmmmh,” he sighed again, as he lead her hands to her rear, “now let’s come to one of my favourites.” Slowly he made her hands move in circles across her behind, as if this was necessary to help her visualise the incredible magnitude of her butt. And to top it all off, the absence of her visual sense seemed to further enhance the depths of the dips and dents that coated its surface.
“It’s not only the luxurious lushness of your behind that compels me to run my hands along it as often as I can and squeeze it tightly. No.” He growled lowly again, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he made her fingers dig into her cheeks and this time she found it impossible to hold back a moan. “I wish you could see the way it jiggles and quivers with every thrust of my hips when I take you from behind. It’s magnificent.”
“Oh God, Henry,” she mewled when she could feel the treacherous wetness pool between her legs, soaking her panties in an instant. She wanted to pull away again, but this time to spin around and press her body against his while her lips devoured his filthy mouth before it could drive her completely insane with need. And yet again, Henry was stronger, securing her in her current position for just a little longer.
“I see you’re starting to get the point of this whole exercise. Good for you, darling.”
“Henry, please,” his teasing made her whine, as it always did, and she almost missed how he hooked her fingers underneath the straps of her bra to peel away the obstructive lace.
“Sh, don’t fuss. This is the best part, I promise.”
And with that he closed her hands around her voluptuous breasts, massaging them tenderly. “Did I promise too much? This really is the good stuff, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever held anything as fluffy as these two delights in my hands. I still remember the way they moved to the rhythm of our lovemaking that first night. So enchanting. But you know what is even better?” he asked, his head dipping down to nuzzle her neck yearningly. “To rest my head upon your chest after we both came undone. I love to be embedded by this softness while I can listen to your heartbeat. There is something so utterly bewitching about witnessing how it slowly calms down after I made you touch the sky.”
Without thinking twice her eyes flew open, just in time to catch a glimpse of all the affection his heart held for her as it reflected so openly in his blue eyes.
“Oh Hen!” And finally he didn’t hold her back when she tried to spin around, cupping his stubbly cheeks gently in her hands. “I love you so much.”
And without giving him the chance to answer, her lips found his, moving with them until she didn’t know anymore where she ended and he began. Her head still spinning slightly, she broke away, their heavy pants the only noise that filled the silence for a while.
“And I love you.” A beaming smile curled his lips, passing on to hers while it slowly set her on fire. “Even the parts you despise. Maybe I love them the most. And I will not stop loving them for the both of us until you can love them too.”
She didn’t know what she could have possibly replied to that. He was right, it was still a long way to go. There would always be difficult times. After all, self-love wasn’t a permanent state she would be in for good once it was reached. She rather saw it as a concept, an idea she would possibly never reach in her life, but at least she could count on him to be there and help her see through his eyes whenever she was struggling.
“Now, can I make a suggestion regarding your outfit?” he derailed her train of thought. “Take the white summer dress with the pink peonies I love so much. You know how great your ass looks in that, don’t you?” He smirked while, once again, his fingers dug into her behind.
“So you keep telling me, Hen.”
“Because it’s true.” His lips briefly brushed over the tip of her nose. “And it will remind me all night long of all the things I’m going to do to you as soon as we get back here.”
Part 2
***
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bleepblopbloop56 · 5 years
Text
The Murder in the Dressing Room
Chapter 8: Because I Love You
Just a small note: im so excited for you guys to read this one you have no idea. going through the editing process this week has somehow made it my favorite chapter in the whole story i swear. Alright also need the routine stamp of Edited By @pathos-logical who made this what it is today i swear
Warnings: unsympathetic deceit, abusive deceit, manipulative deceit, toxic relationships,slight blood mention, slight medication mention, unwanted kissing, a litttlleee bit of unwanted touching.
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"Hey there, beautiful~" A handsome stranger in a yellow button up smiled down at him, sliding into the stool at his right. "Can I buy you a drink?" Normally Roman wouldn’t have thought twice about refusing the offer, but the irritation lingering in his chest made him reckless. He traced his eyes over the man’s face, gaze catching on his green eyes. He couldn't tell what it was, but something in them made Roman want to say yes, want to listen to every word he said. 
… Just one drink can’t hurt, he decided, requesting just a diet coke while raising his eyebrows at the man. He didn't complain, which Roman took as a good sign.
"I'm Ethan, but you can call me Dee," he introduced himself, offering his hand.
"Roman," he said, taking the hand and holding it for a moment longer than necessary. He couldn't help it- those eyes were sucking him in and putting him in a daze. 
"So what are you doing here, Roman?" The way the man- Ethan- said his name made his heart skip a beat. "Looking for anything from tonight?" The way he smirked made it clear he didn't mean anything so much as anyone, and he was looking at Roman like he was the most beautiful man in the world. It felt good to be flirted with. Logan sure as hell didn't do that too often. 
Logan… 
"Me and my boyfriend are fighting," Roman chuckled nervously. “I just wanted to have fun for a bit and forget about him." Roman scooted away, suddenly rethinking coming here. He loved Logan, he just… got so frustrated with him sometimes. He'd spent nearly every day at work for the past few months, even his days off. He worked and worked and left no time for Roman. All he wanted was some attention. That wasn't too much to ask, right?
Ethan frowned like Roman had just told him Logan had locked him up in a tower. He leaned forward a little, seemingly unconsciously bridging the space Roman had put between them. The shifting lights of the club shadowed his eyes and threw the scar on his face into sharp relief for a second, making him look… dangerous. "You deserve better."
Roman laughed purely out of shock, a little taken aback by how serious he sounded. He tried to deflect, to take some of the blame off Logan, but Ethan steamrollered right over him. "You look lonely. Don't you want to forget yourself and be someone else for a night? Don't you want to the star of the show for a change?"
Ethan had seen right through Roman- hell, he'd practically read his mind, reaching down into his soul and pulling up wants he couldn't even admit to himself. Roman wanted to move back and put some distance between himself and Ethan- or maybe just the uncomfortable truth- but then Ethan smiled, slow and deadly as any poison. "A guy like you shouldn't be lonely tonight."
Roman’s breath sped up against his will. A hopeful grin crept across his face in a way he hoped didn't look too eager. "Maybe…" He leaned in, maybe a little more than he should. "Could you… could you make that happen?" 
Ethan… no, Dee, quirked an eyebrow at him, his smirk deepening to something lethal, and struck the killing blow.
"Anything you want…" 
And god, Roman wished he could have the excuse that he was drunk that night, to say he wasn't thinking clearly when this man pulled him away into his huge house and made him feel like he was the most precious treasure in his collection. To say he was high or drunk or drugged when he woke up in another man's arms wishing this movie star life could always be his. He wanted to say that he didn't enjoy that night, that he thought of Logan the whole time, that he didn't mean any of it. But he couldn't lie to Logan… Not like that. 
Street lights lit up Dee's face as he drove down the winding streets. He'd been quiet since they'd left the hotel; whether that was good or bad was anyone's guess. Roman sat beside him just as silently, lost in thoughts of the night everything went wrong. The first of many "worst mistakes of his life". Without even realizing it, tears began to slip down his face.
Dee's hand rested on Roman's knee, thumb rubbing in small circles but not moving any farther up his leg like they usually did. He glanced over and put a fake pout on his face, the kind he was so good at. It made Roman sick. 
"Why are you crying, baby?" Roman stayed silent. "We're going home! Don't you wanna go back home with me?" Dee took his eyes off the road to wipe off the tears, and despite being a sweet gesture, Roman could only read it as a threat. Everything Dee did now felt like one- he'd never be safe around him again, not after this.
He forced himself to nod his head slightly, sniffing and wiping at his own eyes. He was lying, but he had a feeling saying "no, I want to go back to Logan and I want you to leave me alone forever" would make Dee slam the car into a tree. Dee smiled at him, turning back to the road.
“Why are you doing this, Dee?” Roman asked quietly. He didn't know what he was expecting to hear. Maybe “because I'm evil’ or ”because you’re mine”- something he could understand, something that would make sense, at least with Dee’s twisted worldview in mind. What he did not expect was the soft “because I love you” that came from the man, sounding as genuine as it had all those months ago.
“Because I love you, Roman,” Dee smiled, cupping his cheeks in his hands, "and I want to marry you." Dee hadn't waited for an answer after proposing- he’d immediately slipped the ring onto Roman’s finger, pulling Roman back in when he stumbled back in surprise. He leaned down and kissed Roman, not caring that he didn't reciprocate, ignoring how Roman tried to squirm out of his grip.
Roman's mind was racing a million miles an hour. Marriage? He had been trying to work up the courage to break up with Dee for weeks, and now he thought it was the time for marriage? 
"Don't you think that's a little fast?" Roman tried nervously, putting his hands on Dee's chest in an effort to keep him away without showing it. "I mean- Dee, baby, we've only been dating for a year," he chuckled, trying desperately to keep his voice light. He looked down at the ring. The bright diamond caught the light, a promise of more of this picture-perfect life to come… The sex, money, clothes, attention- all of it was right in front of him. Everything Roman had ever dreamed of, and all he had to do to get it was say yes.
"Do you not want to marry me?" Dee's eyes held something dangerous in them, and Roman read the question for what it was- not a question at all, but a threat.
Roman stared back at him, trying to make his mouth form any words that weren't "of course I do" trying to say that this had gone too far, that he wanted to go home, to see his friends, family, Logan, all the people Dee had made him cut ties with. 
"I'd love to, Ethan," he smiled wearily, standing on his tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
Even at that moment, he’d felt like he’d made a deal with the devil, and every time he looked at that ring he was reminded of the price he paid.
"How's your head, baby?" Dee asked. "I have some ibuprofen in the glove box if you need it." Roman wasn't all that willing to take anything Dee offered, but he was reluctantly grateful to hear it- getting slammed into a wall hadn't exactly left him feeling peachy. It could've been worse, I suppose, he thought. At least he didn't hit hard enough to dent the wall… or my skull.
He reached in the glove box, muttering a meek thank-you as he did. His hand hit against something long and thin wrapped in cloth, and when he peered in to get a better look, he was met with the sight of spots of dark red covering the fabric. He almost jerked his hand out and slammed the glove box shut, and only the knowledge that Dee was watching kept him from doing it. He slowly pulled out the bottle of pills, shaking so badly that he almost couldn’t unscrew the cap.
When his hands finally steadied, Roman took three and popped them into his mouth, wincing as he swallowed. While mumbling out another thanks to be safe, he vaguely made the connection that when Dee had apologised, it was specifically asking for forgiveness, not to make Roman feel better. Had it always been like that? No… He had to have been earnest in the beginning. Roman wouldn't have gone with him if he wasn't. Right? 
"Why are you so quiet, my prince?" Dee cooed, glancing over every few seconds to look at his love. His Prince Charming… 
"Hey, Prince Charming!" Virgil called, throwing a pillow across the room at the pair. "Back off on the PDA, I have virgin eyes." He dodged the pillow when Logan threw it back at him, laughing. He had started calling Roman that after he’d walked in on Roman serenading Logan with Disney songs in the kitchen, and Roman would be lying if he said he didn't like it.
Roman dropped to a knee, bowing to Virgil with a look of mock regret on his face "Oh King Virgil the Virgin, how will you ever forgive my misdeeds?!" He threw a hand on his forehead, flopping onto his back like a Victorian mistress who’d just gotten a whiff of her vivid green wallpaper. "My only hope is that you continue to let me rule over this humble kingdom under you!" Roman kept his eyes shut tight, trying not to break, but when Logan of all people started snickering, he burst out laughing and let the act drop. Virgil was laughing too, they all were, and that was the best thing about them. They were always laughing, everything was fun with them.
And now Virgil was gone… 
And now he was back with Ethan… 
Now he'd ruined it all.
Roman let his tears fall freely. Sitting beside the murderer of his best friends and his brother, it occurred to him- not for the first time in the relationship- how completely and utterly trapped he was.
"I'm just… thinking about Remus," he whispered, wiping his tears with the top of his shirt. It was only partly a lie; he wasn't just thinking of Remus, he was thinking of everyone. Remus, Virgil, Thomas, Logan- all of them were clawing out of his brain and finding their way down his face. But Remus was family, and hopefully that was someone Dee would allow him to grieve for…   
But Dee didn't look sympathetic. "You didn't need him," he said coldly, pulling into their house- no, his house. Roman didn't belong there anymore. "I did you a favor, Roman. Now you can focus on me." Roman must've done something with his face, because Dee's coldness turned right back to sweetness. "Now we can focus on us."
Roman nodded even though he knew that wasn't right, stomach twisting in knots at the reminder that he was the reason people died- that no matter how indirectly, it might as well have been him who’d killed them. That he was only here so Dee wouldn't hurt anyone else
"Remember the rules?" Dee asked, staring down at his passenger before unlocking the doors. The light, casual malice in his voice made Roman think of the knife in the glove box, and he nodded jerkily, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. They'd gone over them three times in the car; they’d been drilled into his brain by now. He thought he’d break down if he had to hear them out loud one more time, but- "Say them," Dee demanded, and Roman obliged. 
"One hand on you at all times." He started with the easy one, voice strained to the point of breaking to keep from bursting into tears. "If I run, you'll kill Logan. If I scream, you'll kill Logan." His voice was cracking. "If I call for help, you'll kill Logan…" Dee smiled at him, leaning in and kissing Roman sweetly as he unlocked the doors to the place Roman had once called home. Hand on Roman's back, Dee pushed him gently through the house. They walked through the living room, spare bedrooms, the small library, passing everything until they were in the very back. Roman almost lost himself in the haze of familiar scenery for a few minutes, but then-
"Dee? Dee, our room is back there, Dee where are we going?" Roman couldn’t help how his voice pitched up in terror, and his attempts to dig his heels in were to no avail; Dee just shoved him forward more forcefully. He threw open the door to the basement- the one room in this huge house Roman had always been too afraid to go into, the one that locked from the outside. 
"I have some business to do, my prince, I'm going to have to leave you here for a bit," Dee said with a fake pout. Nonsensically, almost hysterically, Roman thought that all his expressions were fake- nothing about him was real. Not anymore.
"Please don't leave me here, Dee," Roman cried, trying to follow him up the stairs. "Please, I promise I won't leave, Ethan-" but the door slammed shut, and the lock clicked behind him.
---
One thing that Ethan didn't mention was that no matter how closely Roman followed the rules, no matter how good and obedient he was, Ethan had always planned on killing Logan. Nothing Roman could do or say would've convinced him otherwise. 
Ethan was in love with the idea of Roman, in love with having someone beautiful to wake up beside and do everything he said. He loved having his little plaything, and one person was trying to keep that from him. And that just wouldn't do… 
The murder in the dressing room taglist:
@cataclysm-al @knightinsoftpastels @intrurality-fusion @katie-the-noble-fangirl @whizzie72 @grayson-22 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @winterwonderland7669 @missieluvsmurder @sign-from-god-complex @dragonindigo245 @angryfanboyscreaming @ninja-wizard101 @sombraookami @crystalistrappedintheinternet @imtooaromanticforthis @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @dragon-hair @satanblessi @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @skruffy901 @selectivereality @nonbeenary-enbee @imbasicallyshakespear @cats-vetal-miking-vomit @incoherentfangirl @oofmood @nonbianary-pineapple @royalnerd829 @unicornlogansanders @magma-llama @chumo-cookie
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