#every time i draw victoria she's stealing someone's clothes

[dennisboobs]

i habve been drawding icky vicky

[ethan-torchio-angelo]

Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.

[acatpersonapparently]

Jemtoria Angel AU: Part 1

i.

Victoria hits earth crying for heaven. Wings crumpling like soda cans smashed under a child’s foot, Victoria meets earth with cruel impact. Victoria picks up her halo and puts it back on like someone will look down and see the mistake they made and bring her back home.

Her halo rests crooked and the white of the winter around her feels like a taunt.

ii.

Victoria loses her halo somewhere between a gas station and a cafe, long after her feet were raw and bleeding from walking. It slips off her head and rolls into a sewer grate. She stares at the metal bars between her and her divinity for hours before moving on (That’s what all her brothers and sisters always pointed out about the squirming humans writhing across the earth, their ability to carry on past tragedy)

She curls up under a tree in the park and waits for nature to whisper her a bedtime lullaby. The trees are silent and the flowers turn their back on her, every blade of grass turning away from the sinner/the once-angel/the silly mortal with an aching heart. There is nobody to look her way and no miracle to save her. So, Victoria cries out her loneliness under starlight, her tears boiling on her cheeks and dissipating into steam. So, this is what being alone means, Victoria thinks, having always been apart of the holy We. She reaches for the stars and they don't change the way they shine, not even a wink. So, this is being forsaken

iii.

Her feathers fall out in burning clumps: primaries, secondaries, coverts. Each handful telling her louder and louder about how the skies are now forbidden to her. Her pinions fall out, weeping blood., during a snowstorm. She stretches out the skeletal limbs they leave behind and Victoria can’t believe how small she feels without the glory of her wings on her back.

Victoria is trying to remember the sound of her family singing glory on high when she wanders into a bar. The chorus of voices sing to her loneliness and draw her in. She sits at the bar, worrying a feather and its fading holy between her hands.

Are you okay? Someone asks her. She thinks something wrong in her smile scares him away.

You’re in pain. Someone else tells her. Victoria supposes they’re right. They guide her into the pub's dilapidated bathroom. Her body burns as they gently begin washing the blood and half-smouldering ash from her skin, leaving the sink full of filthy brown water. She swears she can see Raphael’s silhouette around her stranger as they wrap her hands just like him when she was just a child trying to dance with supernovas or trying to hold white dwarfs in her hands to take home to her family.

Why? Victoria asks, mortal tongue twisting her jaw when she speaks.

Because you need kindness and I have some to spare. A large coat is dropped onto Victoria's shoulders. She wraps it tightly around herself and calls it a hug.

iv.

The stranger shows her eggs and bacon, early the next morning. She watches them watch her, waiting for her to eat. She's a splatter painting of purpling and yellowing bruises under dim fluorescent lighting.

Listen, if you’re in trouble, I can call someone. If someone is hurting you at home or anything, I’m sure I know someone who can help

I fell

I’ve heard that before

I fell and I have no home

Oh

Victoria digs into the food in front of her like it will fill the yawning emptiness that seems to be steadily growing inside her.

(Victoria flees the stranger's house that night, stealing as much clothes as it takes to feel warm and a pack of bacon)

v.

Victoria moves, humanity hounding her and moving ever closer. She pets a dog, scalds her hands on hot water, runs through fields of tall grass that make her legs itch. She stares back at the people who stare at her when she walks down the street. She breaks into churches to steal from the offering plate (because the money is kind of meant for her anyways) and tears out pages from the hymnals in the pews.

She doesn’t make friends, or even talk really. The memory of heaven and its hosts make it hard to look at these little people and see them as anything more than the afterimages of something greater and much more divine.

Victoria picks up scraps of other people and stitches them into her own version of human. She copies the way the woman in the nice blazer waves, the fashion the old man with smile lines opens doors for others, the delicate manner that the woman with soft brown curls blows on her tea. She wanders the streets feeling like an imposter, lips still cracking when she tries to smile.

She looks for Uriel's flaming sword and the gate to salvation but heaven left no scent for her to track. Victoria learns the way that man with the stubble on his chin blasphemies, the man with yellow teeth curses someone out on his phone, the woman on the street corner who yells about the end times and her open defiance of God.

(When Victoria gives up on finding the Garden, she breaks into another church. She steals from the offering plate and tears up hymns. She stares at the statue of a man on the cross until something in her, gnawing and feral with humanity, decides she should tear it down. She destroys her Father's house, smashing pews and pouring out holy water. She curses him until her voice is raw and all she has left is nonsensical wailing. She leaves her Father's house, forsaking him the same way he did her.)

vi.

Victoria decides home is a town in the middle of nowhere where snow never falls. The people here are gentle and keep to themselves and that suits Victoria just fine. She grows a garden which is nothing like her Father’s, filling the spaces between flowers with the bones of roadkill she finds on the side of the highway when she wanders at night. The boys of the town come to her with wounded birds. Every single one is taken in without a word said between them. Their rapid little heartbeats singing into her palms when she takes them in. She mends their wings and whispers to them about her memories of being skybound and magnificent. She calls it purpose and living. She names their wings love and hope and keeps the feathers they leave for her close by. The ones who never stretch their wings wide again stay with her and they thank her by filling her garden with song.

(Victoria cries for the first time in a long time when she steps outside and they greet her with a rising chorus drenched in sunshine)

One of the boys, cradling a nightingale in his muddy hands under the pink-orange sky of dawn, staring at her with tears dripping off his chin and snot smeared across his cheeks, appears on her doorstep. You’ll help her? Please, you gotta help her.

Victoria smiles, cupping her hands around his, She just needs a little kindness. Don’t worry, I have plenty to spare.

[rossodelgiorno]

2020/ Chain of Fools

2020 was the year I adopted a boiler suit and gas mask as a daily uniform. The world had gone into a global lockdown to combat the COVID19 virus which meant we were only allowed to leave our house for essential reasons such as grocery shopping and exercise. When outside, we were government mandated to wear face masks to prevent the spread of the disease. They made me feel like a muzzled dog and I resented no longer being able to smile with strangers on the street. Feeling like a prisoner in his own home and under extreme stress from job insecurity, my boyfriend Jake’s amphetamine addiction began to spiral out of control.

As a result of Jake’s addiction, we had accidentally befriended a posse of drug dealers and prostitutes- bonded by our love of having a good time and a general disregard for consequence. We met Dani through a call girl friend of mine who had realised the difficulty of making a living through writing online fashion content. Dani had big brown eyes, fat, botoxed lips and dressed only in high end labels like Gucci and Balmain. Born into a wealthy family, she had acquired a taste for expensive things but lacked the work ethic to maintain this taste without selling her body for sex. Dani began to visit more throughout the lockdown to deliver Jake drugs, hidden in a bag of a groceries. One night, she played Carole King on our old vinyl player, while Jake rolled us a joint to share. I flirted with them both, knowing that it would lead to a threesome. We smoked Jake’s joint, snorted lines of cocaine off each other and then took turns going down on each other.

A week later, Dani introduced us to a crew of “script kiddies”- long haired, internet hackers with a love of mumble rap, cryptocurrency and ketamine. I made cocktails for everyone and established that one of these kids shared a mutual friend with Jake. They seemed fascinated by the genuine sexual chemistry between myself, Jake and Dani and expressed gratitude for our generous hospitality. Eventually I came to the conclusion that by associating us with this crowd, Dani had managed to successfully pray on the vulnerable- trusting junkies like us who were lax with internet security and keen for a good time. In retrospect, I wish I had known that Dani was a hustler at heart- making money in any way she could without considering the impact of her choices. At the time however, I felt like we were fully living life in the moment- something I was certain would bring me happiness, meaning and didn’t question her motives for a moment.

Ella, Dani’s best friend, had a boyish pixie cut, high cheekbones and was tall and slim. She had gradually joined in on our shenanigans, along with Mark, a dealer with a steady supply of the best gear available north of the river. We all hung out together in our plant-filled, converted warehouse listening to electronic music and sharing stories about our favourite mind-altering substances. My stories were consistently focused on MDMA. As a notoriously private person, I’d discovered MDMA helped me open up and allowed me to dance, free of fear of judgement. It had also helped Jake open up about the sexual abuse he experienced as child, a fact I doubted would have ever come up without the influence of a truth serum and something which I was certain had driven him to substance abuse in the first place.

While we laughed, chatted and danced with Dani and Mark, Ella, who claimed to be a part time poet and part-time model, entered a viral script virus onto our wireless network by requesting our wifi password. Something we provided willingly, without second thought. This meant remote access to every digital device we owned and access to all stored personal information including scanned copies of our passports and birth certificates.

The issue with Mark, despite his criminal lifestyle, was that he was excellent company. Intelligent, engaging and a DJ in his spare time- we thrived off his love of hip hop and old-school funk. Similarly, he thrived off our property location in the Inner North- close to his regular customers and discrete enough from the prying eyes of authority. We welcomed him into our home with open arms, deprived of social contact through social distancing practices enforced by the pandemic. We held COVID19 illegal gatherings where we got high off Mark’s supply, enjoyed each other’s company while Ella hacked our electronic identities. When you’re lonely, it doesn’t really matter if others are using you and you’re using them. As long as everyone is filling a clearly defined role, the maladaptive social ecosystem continues to function.

It’s unclear exactly how many international drug smuggling routes were established using our stolen online identities before Jake clued on that something wasn’t right. He told me that he had been locked out of his email account, that the speed of his phone had slowed and that he could hear clicking noises during his phone calls. He was certain that his was a breach of online security and started to question the motives of our new friends. I wrote him off as crazy, blaming his excessive use of amphetamines and the psychological effect of social isolation. I was determined to keep my online identity public, obsessed by the idea of becoming the next millennial therapist and too blinded by Dani’s beauty to believe that she would want to harm us in any way.

Eventually Jake’s distress became too extreme to ignore and he shook me violently one night, yelling at me to believe what I had assumed was a paranoid conspiracy theory. A sinking feeling in my gut became apparent when he started to coherently piece together his concerns about his online security issues. I realized that my sense of reality had been clouded by my lust for Dani and by a dark depression that had developed through my work as an essential worker during a pandemic. Based on Jake’s erratic behaviour, I knew we had to get out of the warehouse immediately, but I had no idea where to go and was fearful of drawing attention to any law-breaking activity when police presence was so prominent.

We agreed to seek refuge with our friends Trish and Rick, former 90s British ravers who had channeled their drug-fuelled benders into successful and respectable careers. I called them panicked that night, shaking and rambling about what had happened. Without hesitancy, Trish told us to come over right away. Rick’s brother back in the UK had recently killed himself and they were struggling too. Trish and Rick lived in an affluent area in the inner East which meant we needed to blend in quickly through a disguise of expensive athleisure and an almost painful sense of normality. It appeared that our efforts at disguise were successful and it seemed to result in freedom from any unusual online activity on our devices. We bought new phones, changed our phone numbers, email addresses and disconnected from the outside world for an entire week. We spoke about going to the police, however we both agreed that this would place us at too much risk to the criminal world to be a viable option.

When your online identity is stolen, you quickly start to daydream what it would be like to steal someone else’s identity. For example, what exactly would you do with those proceeds of crime? Which tropical island would you escape to, what designer clothes would you wear, which car would you drive? I quickly became entranced and jealous at the thought of this fantasy life, but then spent time reflecting on my own morality and these feelings subsided. Instead, an intense anger developed at the thought of others taking advantage of Jake and his mental illness. High on a sense of ethical superiority and new found fury, I decided to employ my favourite psychological defense mechanism, repression, to cope with my latest traumas. May you rest in peace, memory, I said to myself before engaging in my daily mediation ritual.

While repressing my consciousness, I also began to focus on the importance of social support. I knew this shit was important but didn’t fully understand until Trish brushed my hair one night, my arms too frail from fear and stress to function. Trish and Rick played familiar Britpop, drank tea and encouraged us to embrace the therapeutic benefits of music through use of the guitar and keyboard that we had brought to their house. We took turns cooking for each other, played board games and counselled each other through each personal problems, one at a time.

Jake and I stayed with Trish and Rick for two weeks until we could establish an exit plan from the city. We migrated to rural Victoria like many other Melbournians, traumatized by the lockdown. The pace in the country was slow yet calming and people genuinely seemed to care about your welfare when they inquired “How you going, mate?” After such an extended period of social isolation, many of us forgot how to interact with others. We valued and craved human connection more than ever, and yet we seemed scared of what we might connect with. We continued to develop our own deformed version of sign language to communicate through the face masks and focused on re-developing social skills that had been lost through extended disconnection.

Jake and I continued to battle through the challenges of online identity theft and the consequences of his addiction issues. Jake’s substance use had subsided substantially without the influence of Mark and Dani and we eventually adjusted to living normal, routine driven lifestyles. He had cycled through periods of problematic use before, however I still felt somewhat shell shocked by the intensity of his most recent relapse. However, one day late in December I found myself wandering through the tranquility of the Otways, fully freed from the constraints of the lockdown which had finally lifted and contemplating my progress in life since leaving this place as a teenager. The rainforest sounds were vivid and the smells of the ocean salty in my nostrils. I wasn’t where I had planned to end the year 2020, but I was alive and I had Jake. And for that, I felt eternally grateful.

Rosso Del Giorno

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[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #336

"get back, you’re never gonna leave him  /  get back, you’re always gonna please him”

What were your favorite things to draw when you were a lil kid? When I was a very little kid, idk. But once I got into meerkats... I drew them like crazy. Do you think there is something with or around you, like a spirit, angel, ghost or something else? How does this make you feel? No. Imagine you’re a stranger looking at yourself. What things would immediately catch your eye? Ugh, let's not. When did you feel the most confident in your life? Probably my senior year of high school. I was happy with Jason with plans for the future together, I was doing excellently in school... I thought I was really going to go somewhere. Do you think love is needed to have good sex? For some people, no. For me, loving one another is an absolute must. Do you think, or want to, die in the city you currently live in? Fuuuuuuuck no, I hate it here. What is the strangest thing you have ever encountered? Probably when I was otw home from my doctor appointment and we passed a random guy in drag walking on the side of the street... That guy is an icon. Favourite soft drink? It's really strawberry Sunkist, but I love it to a degree I don't even allow myself to drink it, because I will fucking destroy that shit so quick. So I tend to just say Mountain Dew Voltage is my fave. What do you like to put gravy on? I hate gravy, period. Have you ever gone canoeing/kayaking? No, but it sounds fun. What is one thing you know about your family history you’re proud of? Uhhhh idk. Who depends on you the most? My snake. Are you related to anyone famous or historical, if so who? Yes; William Clark and Queen Victoria or Queen Elizabeth, idr which. Would you ever donate a kidney to anyone, and who? Mom. She only has one kidney, so, y'know. She kinda needs at least one. I wouldn't even hesitate. What is the main quality you think makes a great parent? Unconditional love. What three things do you think of most of each day? My weight is #1. Every second of every day, it, as well as Jason, are somewhere towards the front of my mind. The final is financial and job-oriented stuff. Does/did your high school have pop machines? It did. Do you know anyone who’s won the lottery? No. Have you ever slept in a water bed? Yeah. How often do you use Flickr? I pretty much abandoned my account; nowadays I only occasional check my friend's profile who works at the Kalahari Meerkat Project because she uploads wonderful pictures of the 'kats as well as gives interesting info about them! Who is the last child that you took a photo with? Mom took a picture of me holding my youngest niece Emerson because it surprised everyone; I NEVER hold babies. She crawled over to me and reached up though, so of course I was going to pick her up. How often do you wear hats? Never. Would you ever get a nature tattoo? Sure! Idk what, but I'm rather sure I'll get at leaast one. Is anyone in your family sick at the moment? No. Where do your siblings work, if anywhere? My older sister is a mammographer, and my younger sis is a social worker. Where is your favorite place to buy groceries? Wal-Mart, I guess. Who do you generally talk to the most? My mom. Is anyone saved in your phone under a nickname? Mom is "Mama Bear," and then my siblings are "Little Sister" and "Big Sister." Whose birthday is coming up? My lil sister has her birthday in April. Have you ever ordered from an informercial? No. When, where, and why did a needle last pierce your skin? I needed to get blood drawn for some testing. It was drawn from my inner elbow, obviously at the doctor. Have you been to an escape room? Was it a success? I never have, but it'd be fun. I enjoy puzzles. How many followers do you have on Instagram? I don't feel like checking. What’s the most recent music video you watched? Thoughts? "Mutter" by Rammstein. I picked a screenshot from it to draw, so I rewatched it to select one. It's a beautiful video, but also strange, which Rammstein is great at. Have you ever recorded a cover of a song? No. What makeup products are your go-tos? If I wear makeup, the bare minimum is black eyeliner. Are you going to school this year? No. I gave college as many shots as I could handle both sanity-wise and with finances in mind. I do NOT want to even ATTEMPT to imagine the debt I have after going to three different colleges and dropping out each time. What is your favorite water activity? I enjoy just kinda swimming around aimlessly, relaxing. What are your favorite video games? Okay, I talk about SH2 and SotC enough on questions like this, so I'll mention some others I really enjoy as well: the Silent Hill franchise in general, Spyro games, The Last Guardian, both The Evil Withins, The Last of Us, some Resident Evil games (the 4th in particular), etc. etc. I just love video games. Do you like jello? I enjoy the flavor, but the texture makes me squirm. When was the last time you gave someone "the finger?" Probably while riding in the car with Mom when a dumb motherfucker swerved into our lane. Or something like that, idr the exact occasion. Have you ever held a snake? Yesssss, I want to hold all the snakes. ;_; Most unique place you’ve ever been to? Uh. I guess maybe the Whirligig Park/"Acid Park" nearby us? It's just this large expanse of unique architecture that are mostly, as you guessed it, extravagant whirligigs. You've got to see it if you come to the town. I have some pictures on my deviantART if you wanna see a few pieces. If you were a superhero, what color would your cape be? NO CAPES! Have you ever slept out on your porch all night? Oh fuck no. I'd feel way, way too unsafe. Do you like horror movies? Yeah! What’s your favorite Coke product? Just normal Coke. Watergun or water-balloon war? Watergun. I don't like being hit with stuff. Do you know anyone that’s afraid of elevators? I kind of am. Is there anything in your room that belongs to a boyfriend, or a friend of the opposite sex? I have three plushies from Jason, Tyler, and Girt. My Marilyn Manson poster is also from Juan. Who’s your favorite Beatle? I don't know; I was never a big fan, so I don't know any of them as people well at all. Have you ever texted an ex whilst drunk? How’d that go? I've never been drunk, but no, I've never texted an ex because I was drinking. Do you have to stand on your tip-toes to kiss your boyfriend? I don't have one. The only instance where I had to do that was with Girt. Tall motherfucker. Have you ever been tackle-hugged? Yes. Those are the best. Have you ever rejected someone’s kiss before? Girt once tried to make out with me and I noped the fuck outta that situation. It was so fucking awkward. Is your mood or the overall tone of your day often affected by the dreams you had the night before? My nightmares definitely can. Do you think that there are any positive aspects or outcomes of suffering from a mental illness? If you have a mental illness, do you think it has changed you for the better in any way? I definitely believe my mental illnesses forced me to mature faster and also instilled a great sense of empathy in me. And don't forget emotional endurance. What is your opinion on celebrity culture and celebrity worship? Have you ever been guilty of putting a celebrity on a pedestal? Do you think it’s somehow more acceptable/understandable to obsess over certain types of celebrities (musicians over YouTubers, say) than others? At what point do you think an obsession like that crosses the line? It's dangerous and can be very blinding. An outsider could say I put Mark on a pedestal, but I've always been very aware that he's not perfect and really just another human, I just happen to love him a lot for the human he is, haha. As time's passed, my vision of him has become healthier though (not to say it ever reached the "unhealthy" threshold); it's gotten easier for me to judge him and stuff like that. I think an obsession crosses the line when you put on rose-tinted glasses to look upon someone and entirely ignore their flaws, or if you try to invade their personal lives, ex. being one of those creeps that loiter outside their houses and stuff. If you were to pursue a career in photography and had the opportunity and means to photograph whatever you wanted, what would most like to photograph? Ah, livin' the dream. If I had to choice and would be paid well regardless of focus, I would absolutely travel and photograph the local nature/wildlife. Is there a certain type of clothing (outerwear, activewear, loungewear, etc.) that you enjoy shopping for more than others? Shirts, 100%. Are you ever afraid to post your ideas, artwork, photography, etc. online for fear that they will get stolen or not credited? When it comes to OCs, yes, given that things have been stolen from me before. Photography doesn't worry me much because I don't think I'm good enough for someone to possibly want to steal it (and besides, I use a watermark), and I do the same for drawings. It's the unique characters I make I worry about being stolen if I share them. When is the last time you did something sexual? A few years back. Who is the last person you showered with, if anyone? I haven't showered with someone since I was a little kid and my younger sister and I would to conserve water. What do you think when you see roadkill on the side of the road? It really makes me genuinely sad, and I always wonder if it could have been avoided if the driver was more alert, slower, and thinking about more than the damage it could cause to their car... I enjoy photographing roadkill, brutal as it may be, out of respect for them and the desire to make their individual stories known and just kind of like, raise awareness of it. Too many people are just annoyed by hitting an animal versus more concerned. "Stupid deer," stuff like that. I sometimes worry that doing so can be interpreted as disrespect, to photograph and publish pictures of their corpses online, but I sure hope not. It's the least of my intentions. I just want people to see and care. Have you ever had an ex that just didn’t understand that it was over? Biiiitch I was that ex, 120%. But besides my situation with Jason, this was how Tyler was. I had to tell him about five thousand times to stop texting me. Are your fingernails currently short or long? They're always pretty short. Would you rather have big or small dogs? I like medium-sized dogs most. I'd have to pick large dogs between the two, though. What is your favorite sports drink? I'm not a fan of sports drinks. What was the last compliment you gave a guy? Yesterday, a guy in PHP shared two poems he wrote while hospitalized, and they were wonderful, so full of passion and emotion. I sure as hell told him they were amazing. He's going for his Master's for poetry, so he knows what he's doing for real. Does your jaw ever crack, pop, or lock? It's popped on very, very few occasions. Have you ever thought of how you would give your kids “the talk”? I don't want kids, so no, I've never thought of this. I certainly wouldn't wait for sex ed in school, though. I feel like it's a bit late. I feel children need to know what it's about at a younger age with how disgusting some people are... I want them to be informed on what consent and molestation are so they know to let Mama know so I can punch someone's face into a whole new galaxy if they're ever violated. Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something? Oh, always. Do you ever write/draw on windows that are fogged up? I did as a kid, sure. Not so much now. If you were married, and your spouse’s parents became ill, would you let them move into your home? If they were truly sick enough to need assistance but not actual hospitalization, yes. I'd want my spouse to do the same for me. Have you screamed in a pillow before? Yyyyep. What do you like more, acoustic or electric? Electric. Did you actually have a cookie jar? We have a Santa one, though I don't even know if we ever used it versus just having it as a decoration. What’s worse, having someone mad or disappointed in you? Disappointed. What do you bite on more, your tongue, lip, or nails? Bottom lip. Do you think that knowing when and how you’re going to die would ruin your life? "Ruin" it seems a bit extreme, but I definitely wouldn't like it. Do you have a favorite bromance? From TV or a movie. Not really, if we're only talking those two options. Do you find flea markets and thrift stores enjoyable? Yeah, you really can find the coolest shit for great prices. What color is your wallet? Mostly red and white; it's a Harley Quinn design. Have you ever been somebody's photography subject? No. Nicki Minaj fan? I believe she's a very talented rapper, but I don't enjoy her actual music. I just don't like rap. Have you ever seen the Niagara Falls? No, I wish tho.

[rinthehufflepuff]

Agent M pt. 4

Parings: Clintasha x Reader

Summary: You’ve been on the run for four years, never staying in one place too long, until you stumble across an abandoned house that seems the perfect place to bunker down in for the winter.  Just as you’re getting comfortable, however, and the seasons start to change, the homeowners appear and they are far different from anything you could have expected.  

Warnings: Language, guns, blood, panic

Series Masterlist

You were on edge all day.  After another night of no sleep - you had instead spent the night doing odd jobs around the house that you deemed quiet enough to not wake Clint and Natasha - you were exhausted, but the buzz of machinery kept you awake as it always did.  There wasn’t anything wrong at work, you had gotten a small pay increase from Mr. Wormwood, who owned the garage, and the rest of the workers had fully accepted that you were shy but good at your job - better than the rest of them and able to fix anything they threw at you.  No, what had you jumpy was the white Ford Crown Victoria with a black stripe and large red letters clearly spelling out who owned the car.  

Thus far, you had managed to avoid the police.  Living in the woods meant you saw them every once in a while when you came across a road, but you hadn’t come in contact with an officer in four years.  You do your best to not fidget too much, but once the garage closes, you know you can’t ride home on the road.  The police car is still parked just down the road.  You get the distinct impression it’s waiting for you.

You’re relieved that the garage sits on the edge of the woods and that you park your bike in the back.  With one last look at the cruiser, you begin the long walk through the woods with your bike at your side.  You had scouted the area several months ago when you first came upon the town, but with the trees and other vegetation thriving and green in the summer heat, you were having trouble picking your way towards the house.  You spent hours just wandering, careful to not stray towards where you thought the road was in case there were cars patrolling for you.  

You had to leave.  You had to pack your bag and run as far away as you could.  You shouldn’t have stayed once winter broke.  You had been stupid, so very stupid.  Of course, he would find you.

It’s nearly dark by the time you know where you are, the house just visible through the trees and you sigh in relief.  Then the shot of a gun.  A dog barking.  Angry yelling.  For a split second, you freeze.  Then, you’re running, crashing through the trees and bushes and overgrown grass.  The river.  You had to make it to the river!  Panic and adrenaline surge through you as they hadn’t in years, not since you were spotted in Alabama.  You can’t be bothered to try and be silent as you move because the dogs could catch you anyway.  They could scent you now that they had been to the house.  The river would help, the moving water would help mask your smell and they might lose you.  

When you finally reach the river, you throw yourself into the mud and roll, doing your best to completely cover yourself in the muck.  Only when you are satisfied that every inch of you is coated in mud do you wade into the river and let yourself drift downstream, careful to keep your head above the water to watch the banks and listen for movement.  You can’t gauge how long you’ve been floating, but the sun has been gone for a long time and the cool night air has fully settled.  Knowing you couldn’t use the river all night, you make your way to the bank and search for a place to hunker down for the night.  What you end up finding is a fallen tree.  Though it’s long since dead, you know you can use the branches and the surrounding vegetation to help camouflage yourself.

You don’t sleep the whole night, terror fuelling you rather than mechanics.  Every small noise makes you shrink into the grass and hold your breath.  The cool night air is made worse by your wet clothes and hair and the mud caked to your skin.  You can’t stand the cold, but you know you have no other choice.  You couldn’t be caught.

><><><><><

Y/N wasn’t home.  Clint had taken Natasha to the store to get whatever it was she needed for okroshka soup - another Russian dish she insisted on making for Y/N since you enjoyed it when she made food from her homeland.  Except, Natasha hadn’t been able to find everything so they ended up getting sausages and peppers to grill since it was getting late and they were sure you were wondering where they were.  When he pulled up to the house, however, you were nowhere to be seen.  He searched the barn first, then your room and the roof since you liked laying on the shingles and read whatever Natasha had “accidentally” left lying around the house.  The bike you took to work, his old bike he would take into town when he was going alone and didn’t want to drive, wasn’t near the porch either.  

It is seven forty-five when a police cruiser pulls into the driveway and Clint can’t help but think about that first day.  How you pleaded with him to not call the authorities.  The panic so plane in your eyes that he would have done anything you asked at that moment.  He doesn’t want to go out to investigate, but Natasha is scouring the woods nearby on the off chance you had decided to explore the property like he had suggested you do not too long ago.  

“Can I help you,” Clint asks, Lucky at his side.  The dog was just as antsy as he was, pawing at the ground and looking around.

“I sure hope so,” the officer smiles, but it’s tight and his eyes aren’t focussed on Clint.  His hand is already resting on his gun.  “I’m looking for a woman.  About Y/H tall, H/C hair, E/C eyes, pretty scared up with a small tattoo on her left hand that looks like a C with two lines on the bottom curve.  She’s currently wanted in connection with a gang shooting in Florida a few weeks ago.”

Lies.  Even without the timing being wrong, Clint can feel the lies wash over him and it pisses him off.    

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Clint shrugged.  Lucky growled at his side and the officer narrows his eyes.  “Haven’t seen you around here, you new?”  When the officer doesn’t answer Clint glances around the area thinking you had popped out of nowhere, but he’s still alone with the officer and Lucky.  “Look, I’m going to need to see your badge, man.  I don’t know you and you’re awful edgy for someone just looking for some woman.”

“No.”  The brisk response sets him off and he gives Lucky the command to get Natasha.  In the split-second Lucky begins to move, the officer draws his gun and fires, just barely missing the retriever as he dashed to the side and begins to bark for the Russian.  

“The fuck, man?  Who the hell shoots a half-blind dog?”  Clint can’t help but yell.  You aren’t here to get scared over the noise so it doesn’t matter.  If anything, yelling would just make Natasha get to him sooner.

“You’re the one harboring-”

“I suggest you leave before I have to do something you won’t have enough time to regret.”  Natasha is at his side, gun drawn and her eyes trained on the officer.  “Now!”  It’s nothing less than an order and though the officer looks like he wants to shoot them both, he slowly backs up to his car and leaves.  

“Did you find her,” Clint asked, his hand buried in Lucky’s fur for comfort.  Clint knew the local police, knew they wouldn’t ever come to his property without calling ahead because they were under the impression Clint was with the Feds.  Whoever that was wasn’t any of the local guys - and he was looking for you.

“Thought I saw some movement on my way over here, but you were my priority,” Natasha sighs.  “We should check it out now though, especially since she isn’t answering her phone…”

Clint doesn’t like the edge in Natasha’s voice, not at all.  You were quiet, eerily so at times as you crept about as if you, yourself, were also a spy, but you had grown on the agents within days.  After Clint’s two weeks away, Natasha had seemed so much closer with you, more attentive and relaxed.  Clint knew whatever had happened while he was gone had created a severe attachment for his girlfriend.  But then there was the issue of how once he had come back you didn’t seem to sleep.  Dark circles had started appearing beneath your large, E/C eyes that made Natasha shift and steal glances at you and make more coffee than she normally would - even with Clint’s caffeine habit.  He could hear you in the dead of night as you shuffled and grumbled as you made your way past their room to go work on some meaningless project to keep yourself awake.  Something was upsetting you and now you were missing.  

“You should go check it out, just take Lucky with you.  I’m going to call the station and see what was up with rent-a-cop,” Clint huffed, scanning the tree line.  If Natasha had seen you, if you had tried to come back to them, you were either long gone or curled up nearby.  He could only hope it was the latter option.

><><><><><

Natasha felt numb.  The bike - your bike - was abandoned in a bush just a few yards into the treeline.  You had been here.  Leading away from the bike was a trail of broken foliage that Lucky followed, his nose pressed to the ground, leading to the river where you liked to fish.  Even in the dim light, she could make out a large disruption in the bank, the muddy indent just the right size to have been created by a person.  By you.  Swearing, Natasha pulled out her phone and called Clint.  If you had bailed into the river...well the evenings were getting cooler and Natasha’s mind still rung with your words from all those nights ago.  You wouldn’t be in your right mind to begin with and the cool evening air was going to make everything worse.

If you didn’t get tired out from trying to keep afloat in the current and drown.  Natasha did her best to push that line of thought out of her mind.

“Nat?  You there?”

“Yeah...I’m here,” Natasha replied, making her way down the river a bit.  You wouldn’t have tried to swim upstream.  “I’m ninety percent sure she was nearby when the gunshot went off.  It looks like she panicked and jumped into the river - she went full stealth too, I found a pretty good hole in the mud that looked like someone had rolled in it.”

“D’you think she went far?”

“Can’t have, at least not too far.  Clint, she’s gotta be terrified out here, and it’s almost dark.  We can’t...I can’t…”

“Stay where you are and I will meet you with flashlights and a medkit.  I’ll call the garage and leave a message so they know Y/N won’t be in for the next few days.  We’ll find her Nat.  We’ll get Y/N home and we can talk this all out and help her.”

Natasha wanted to believe him when Clint said that they would find you - that you would come home and she could help you and that you would be alright.  But she knew there was every chance that that wouldn’t happen.  Over the years, Natasha had seen too much.  Too much violence, too much fear and panic and hate, too much bad - and those experiences made it just that much harder to believe the man who had saved her all those years ago.  Still, she would look for you - wouldn’t let her darker thoughts stop her from searching all through the night and into the next day to find you.

The pair searched for hours, Clint having swum his way across the river so that they could search both banks and the surrounding areas.  Everywhere they looked, they saw you - washed up on the bank, crouched behind bushes and in the tall grass, even hidden in the branches of trees.  They had been trained to track people, S.H.I.E.L.D and the Red Room had both required extensive training for just this purpose, but Natasha wasn’t an expert tracker and neither was Clint.  This, unfortunately, meant that they were much slower than they wanted to be.  

Clint was sure you would have gotten out of the water at some point.  You would have gotten tired and needed to hunker down for the night, but Natasha was constantly watching the surface and the fallen trees with branches that were bound to cling to debris.  Her stomach twisted every time she thought she saw you tangled in those branches, limp and beyond her reach.

Without warning, just as the sky began to lighten, Lucky took off into the brush, tail high and ears perked.  Natasha wasn’t far behind, careful to be quiet even though the light would alert you if you were awake.

><><><><><

You couldn’t be sure when you passed out.  Somewhere during the night, you had heard several male voices, and in a panic, you had tried to change hiding spots.  Except they saw you.  Muted gunshots echoed in your ears as you had broken into a sprint to the river, sure that if you could throw yourself into the current you would have a chance of getting away.  Just at the edge, though, another shot rang out and you felt a familiar explosion of pain in your side.  You didn't have time to stop and try to staunch the bleeding, to feel for an exit wound, as you flung yourself into the river and let yourself sink.  Only when your lungs were about to give out did you surface and let yourself drift for a while before dragging yourself out on what you hoped was the opposite bank.   As you lay in the mud, you felt your abdomen for the exit wound, sighing in relief when you found one.  You didn't want to risk running around with a bullet buried in you.  Forcing yourself into an upright position, you stripped off your shirt from beneath the grey jumpsuit you were still wearing from work and ripping it down the middle before tying it securely around where you hoped the wounds were.  It would have to be good enough because you couldn’t see and neither could you afford to stay on the bank any longer than you already had.  

Struggling to your feet, you pushed into the woods and away from the river, trying to strain your eyes in the darkness for a suitable place to hide.  Except it was pitch black and you couldn’t see anything.  You weren’t surprised when your ankle twisted under you and you tumbled into a small ditch.  Annoyed, yes, but at least you had a chance of being a little harder to spot.  Your ankle throbbed and your abdomen continued to radiate pain as you lay in near silence, straining to hear even the slightest noise, the tiniest indication of not being alone.  Except when you heard nothing except the wind and crickets, the burning behind your eyes finally got to be too much and you closed them.  Only for a minute, you had told yourself, just to ease the burning.  Except it wasn’t just a moment because you ended up passing out.  

You drifted in and out after that, not completely sure if you were awake or dreaming.  In the darkness, Lucky appeared, then Natasha, her face twisted into a grimace.  Then Clint was there and there were muffled sounds, maybe talking, but you couldn’t grasp anything more before you were swallowed by blackness again.  Pressure on your abdomen.  Stabs of pain at the slightest movement.  Swaying.  Nausea.  Soft warmth and running water.  Gentle whispers and soft fur.  Something vaguely sweet and floral.  Coffee.

The next time you were aware of anything beyond pain and darkness, you were warm and comfortable, though thoroughly disoriented.  For a moment, you panic.  They must have found you and hauled you away while you were weak from blood loss and exhaustion.  But that couldn't be what had happened, you were too comfortable.  The warm pressure on either side of you was relaxing, enough so that within seconds your eyes drifted closed again, any worry of having been found by the wrong people dissipating.

When you were finally lucid and fully awake, you realized where you were.  The familiar light blue walls of Clint and Natasha’s room were made softer by the early morning light coming through the sheer, white curtains that you and Natasha had found at a garage sale one day when you were running errands.  Shifting slightly, careful to not upset the dull throb in your abdomen and ankle, you could see Lucky sleeping at the foot of the bed with his stuffed lion between his paws and Clint curled up in a chair in the far corner, fast asleep.

Since he had gotten back, you had made a conscious effort to talk to him more outside of meals and house repairs.  Clint was nice, as you had always known, but you learned it was a niceness born out of genuine kindness rather than wanting something out of you.  He kept his distance most of the time, careful to not be too close or too loud even though you knew he would normally do both because you saw him do it with nearly everyone else he met.  As a result, you had gotten more comfortable around Clint, not freezing up whenever he walked into a room or tried to strike up a conversation.  You had made the effort partially because Natasha trusted him and you trusted Natasha, but also because you felt guilty for taking advantage of his offer to stay in his home and then avoiding him.  Now the guilt was even worse.  

Rule five - you were supposed to call Clint or Natasha if you ever felt unsafe.

You hadn’t ever stopped to consider calling Clint or Natasha when you were at the garage.  Instead, you had taken forever to get home through the woods and then bolted at the first sign of danger instead of trusting that they would help.  That was another thing...you had very likely broken rule three and unintentionally brought unwanted company to the house - and then left Natasha and Clint to deal with the situation on their own.  You were supposed to trust them, but you had reverted to your old mindset at the first sign of danger.  Needless to say, the realization felt about as unpleasant as the gunshot wound.

And yet here you were, in their bed, as safe as you could possibly be with Him looking for you.  

“You look like you’re thinking too hard, Myshka.”  You turn to see Natasha slipping into the room with a steaming mug and a paper medicine cup, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I - I’m sorry I ran,” you sniffled.  “I should have called you when I was at work and then someone was here and it was probably the police and I know you don't want people here at the house but I-”

“Myshka, Y/N, it’s alright,” she soothed, sitting on her half of the bed and sipping at whatever she had brought up.  “We aren’t mad at you.  Worried, yeah - we were very worried when you weren’t home, and you just about gave Clint a heart attack when we realized you had been shot - but you’re here and you’re safe.  That’s all that matters to us, Myshka.”

“How did you even find me?  I know I wasn’t all that careful, but…”

“It’s part of our jobs,” Natasha shrugged, reaching over and gently running her fingers through your hair.  You, for the first time, realize that you aren’t covered in dried mud and that you are actually very clean, not to mention not in your own clothes.  You have no clue what you’re wearing in the way of pants, but you’re in a tank top - the first in many years - and your scars are exposed.  You feel completely naked, but it somehow doesn’t bother you as much as it should.  You could see Clint and Natasha’s scars all the time as they both had several, so you knew they wouldn’t think any different of you for having some too, but you had been so used to wearing long sleeves that it almost felt wrong to not be wearing them now.  Noticing you staring down at your arms, Natasha sighs.  “We had you get you clean, Y/N.  We didn’t want to risk any kind of infection.”

“It’s just...I don’t think I’ve looked at them in a while.  I try not to when I shower, and I’ve always got them covered with long sleeves...do - do you think they look bad?”

“Yeah,” Clint huffs, adjusting himself in the chair, “bad-ass.”

“You dork, that’s not what she meant,”  Natasha scoffs, but you can see she’s a little amused.  “They look fine, Y/N.  Honestly, they’re better than some of Clints.  There's one on his ass-”

“We are not talking about Budapest,” Clint yelped, waving his hands in front of him as if it would stop Natasha from talking about whatever happened.  For what felt like the first time in a long while, you huffed out a laugh.  Though, you immediately regretted it when your side aches in pain.

“Here, these’ll help,” Natasha said, handing you the medicine cup with four different pills in the bottom.  “We don’t normally have to break them out at home, but we use them all the time at work.”  

You felt horrible when you looked down at the small plastic cup and your stomach twisted at the sight of the pills.  You knew that Natasha wouldn’t give you anything that would hurt you, having passed that stage a while ago, but you were still nervous.  Natasha wasn’t Him.  Clint wasn’t Him.  Even still, your first instinct was to tongue the pills and spit them out the first chance you got.  

Forcing down the nagging voices in the back of your head, you tip the cup back and swallow the pills dry.  Natasha gave you a small smile, and even Clint looked proud that you had taken the pills after only a small moment of hesitation.  You knew as well as they did that even just a few weeks ago you would have tried to avoid accepting the medication altogether.

“You’ll have to keep taking them for a while,” Clint sighs, the smile slipping away.  You realized almost immediately that you missed it.  “That wound in your side isn’t pretty, and it’s more than likely is gonna scar pretty bad, but we’ll try to do what we can to prevent the worst of it.  You did well though, Y/N, that shirt you had all tied up probably stopped you from bleeding out before we found you.”

“Well at least I managed to do something right,” you huffed.  “Shouldn’t’ve been shot in the first place.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,”  Natasha growls, and you can’t help but shrink into the bed and try to make yourself smaller.  The action does not go unnoticed by either Clint or Natasha, and the redhead is quick to begin carding her fingers through your hair again.  “I didn't mean it like that,” she sighed.  “I’m not mad at you, Y/N, I just…”

“We worry,” Clint said, getting up and sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed near your feet.  It was probably the closest you had ever been to him without flinching away.  “Natasha and I can’t help you if we don’t know what you need, Y/N.  Someone’s looking for you, and they were desperate enough to steal a police car and uniform to find you.  Y/N,”  Clint gently lay a hand on your uninjured ankle, the blankets keeping him from making actual skin contact, “please, let us help you.”

Glancing up at Natasha, the redhead gives you an encouraging smile and lightly squeezes your shoulder.  You had been safe here for months and, at some point, the farm had turned into your home.  You had lost home a long time ago, but you remembered that home was the people around you, not necessarily a place.  

Natasha was home.  Her small, reserved smiles and twinkling eyes that seemed to know so much more than she let on made you feel warm and safe.  She was quiet and attentive, unobtrusive in her small gestures - food you enjoyed, an umbrella by the door when it might rain, small, barely-there touches in passing.

Clint was home, too.  This was harder to admit to yourself because he looked like Him in so many ways that for a while you had jumped every time you saw him.  But, somehow, Clint’s loud laugh and quirky sense of humor soothed your frayed nerves after long days of working.  His stubborn attempts at getting closer to you now endearing rather than frightening.   His clunky steps echoing in the house because he never remembered to take off his shoes were a distant reminder that you weren’t on your own anymore.  Where Natasha sent silent encouragement, Clint always seemed to be brimming with praise over the smallest acts.  

You trusted them.  Everything could go so unbelievably wrong in a split second - it was a constant threat that seemed even more real now - but you weren’t as scared as before.  They had followed after you - brought you home and kept you safe and warm and alive - when you had run at the sight of danger.

You didn’t want to lose this home.

You drew in a rattling breath glared at your arms.

“His name was James…”

[prodicalviews]

Untitled part 2

This gif is completely unrelated but I thought it was funny

It was the rough texture of Mike’s tongue on my face that woke me from my morning slumber.  It didn’t bother me, in fact, I was more of a morning person.  I stripped my clothes and headed for a quick shower.  It was trash day.  Sunday was trash day for everyone, but I made sure to get up early to avoid jamming my trash in an overflow of garbage. Slipping on black leggings and my bunny night shoes I fed Mike and tied my trash.

Garbage in hand I slipped out my door hoping to avoid Jessie.  For some strange reason around this time, she did yoga on the lawn outside the gym.  Maybe she just liked nature.  I looked in the parking lot tugging my trash behind me.  I noticed the black Porsche from yesterday parked beside my KIA.  It wasn’t the same one, I just decided to buy a newer version.  I never cared for lavish cars.  If we wanted to park under a shade Abe also had a 15 car garage.

“Michonne, baby!”  A loud voice bellowed startling me.  Jessie fell in the grass; I didn’t even see her there.

“Good morning Negan.”  He was a nice guy if you got past the fact that he was a man whore.  He trotted in my direction also totting a bag of garbage.

He licked his lips smiling.  “I’m glad I got to see your beautiful face this week.”  Those dimples were tempting but I knew the truth behind them.

“Me too.  How are your girlfriend’s?”   I asked nicely.  We walked pass Jessie who was shooting daggers at Negan.

His face turned sour.  “Don’t think I didn’t notice the s dear. I’m settling down now.  The life I use to live doesn’t quite suit me anymore. Don’t you think?”

“Right,”  I responded with a smile knowing everything that came out of his mouth was bullshit.

“A little birdie told me you have a new neighbor, I was thinking about moving next to you.  Just to be a little closer.  But no! Fucker snatched my spot.”  Talk about laying it on thick.  He raised the garbage lid to throw in our trash.

“If it makes you feel any better.  It looks like they’re a couple.”  He looked surprised as I told him.

“That doesn’t put me at ease sweetheart…”  His gaze drifted to Jessie as she touched her toes with her hips angling in the air.  I rolled my eyes.  This man was a trip.

“I’m sure we’ll talk later Negan.”  I made my way back to my place and in the kitchen.  I let the water run over my hands, the foam went down the drain. I opened my fridge and eyed the remainder of Carol’s cookies.  Despite my terrible first impression of Lori, I really wanted to try.  Who knows maybe I’d even get a breakthrough with her.  I grabbed the pan and headed next door.

I took a deep breath as the gold seven gleamed at me.  I wasn’t sure what made me feel a bit self-conscious.  I pulled my locs into a ponytail but I felt my tank top riding up when I knocked on the door.  I probably looked like a suck up already.  Just to add a little flare I threw on a big smile before the door opened.

Lori looked confused until she clocked the pan of cookies in my hand. “Sorry for the awkwardness yesterday. I brought some cookies, sort of a home warming gift.”  Lori smiled at me awkwardly and relieved me of the pan.  I told myself, I was doing this for new clothes and Mike.  I peeped behind Lori into the living room.  I frowned, it lacked the feminine touch. Strange since Lori wore exuberant colors, much like the red expensive dress she had on.

“I don’t eat cookies.  They make you fat.”  She stared at me as if to prove a point.  I could’ve sworn my palms twitched.

“Okay, if you don’t like them can you give them back?”   I held my hands out for the pan that never touched it.  

 “That’s fine I’m sure Rick will enjoy them.”  Her boyfriend no doubt.  I tried my best to hang onto my smile.  I noticed some movement behind Lori but she deliberately blocked my view when I tried to peek.  Okay, I get that she didn’t want me looking at her man but I wanted to look at her man. Only to ease my budding curiosity. Carol never told me how he looked. Besides, I didn’t want to have sex with him.  At this point, I’m borderline asexual.

She gave me a tight-lipped smile when a deep voice caused her head to turn. “Who’s at the door, Lori?”  He had a southern accent to his voice.  Mama always said a man with a deep southern voice was nothing but trouble.  Abe didn’t count, he was married.

Lori kept her mouth shut, slowly inching the door close.  “Well, I guess I’ll see you later,”  I shouted on purpose.  I’m sure in another life Lori and I could be friends, but in this one, she was a bitch.  

“Oh,” He said from inside.  “Remind me to get groceries before I get back here.”  He sounded a bit frustrated.  I heard a slam of what I assumed to be the fridge door.  

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around uhhh…”

“Michonne.”  I supplied a little annoyed.

She chuckled dismissively.  “Oh, right. How could I forget that?”

I didn’t bother waiting for her to shut the door in my face.  I retreated to my apartment deciding to get Carol’s pan back tomorrow.  Hopefully before either of them went to work.  Mike was snuggling against the cushions on my couch, purring.  I smiled sadly.  I knew some days he was in pain but I was too selfish to let him go just yet.  Maybe Carol was right.  Maybe my toxic past with online shopping could be overlooked. Sighing in defeat I went in search for my laptop.

Four hours later I had numerous tabs open.  All consisting of victoria secrete, Nike, Gucci and many more.  My eyes were burning.  With over two hundred items in total, I was about to call it quits but my mouse still hovered over the buy button.  To buy or not to buy.  It was a difficult choice to make, every time I ordered something it either never came or came too small.  Every single time.  

I sighed after hearing a knock on my door.  Recently it seemed to be a common occurrence, knocking on doors.  I dragged myself off the couch leaving Mike to tiredly scratch at the monitor.

I probably looked high by the time I answered the door.  I knew for a fact my eyes resembled the hair of the burly man standing in front of me.

“Hey, Abe.”  Besides the numerous cameras on the property, high gates and security codes I felt safer knowing an ex-militant was living next door to me.

“For an introvert, you’re a bit too friendly.”   I was indeed a bit too friendly to the guy sporting a white wife beater and a big ass cigar.  He continued “Just wanted to let you know we’re having a little gathering by the pool next week.  Give you some time to gather your introverted wits.”  I leaned against my door frame.

“Is this gathering a special occasion?”  I asked curiously.  The only gathering they did was once a month at a restaurant, as far as I knew.

“Very!” He boomed.  “I thought you met your new neighbor already?”  Everyone knew I always tried to suck up to the new neighbor.

“Oh, I did.  They seemed…nice enough.”  It wasn’t a complete lie.  Lori was a bitch but I guess the guy warranted the ‘nice enough’.

“They?  Anyway, Rick’s an old squadmate of mine, saved my ass more times than I can count.”  Is there a way too feel doubly safer?  He could bring more of his squad mates, I’d offer a trade for Jessie any day.

I frowned, “Why didn’t you celebrate when I moved in?  Let alone everyone else?”

“Why are dingle berries brown?”  I didn’t even know what that meant.  “Like I said he’s an old buddy of mine, we go way back.  I thought you guys would’ve hit it off,” The only thing that would hit it off was my palm against Lori’s face if she tried me again. “He loves your work.”  Wasn’t that something special?

“You didn’t say who I was, did you?”

“Your secret is safe with me.”  He tapped an arm against his chest then used two fingers to draw an invisible x.

“Am I required to wear a swimsuit?  Because if I have to I’m not going.”  I didn’t want to sound snobby or prudish.  I was proud of my body and learned to embrace my weight along with the flaws but I didn’t want Negan barking around me like a dog in heat.  

“It’s optional and try to keep an eye out for squirrels around the gym. Jessie’s been complaining about them stealing her grapes while she did yoga.”  She doesn’t even do yoga in the gym, but I’ll keep my mouth shut.

After assuring Abe that i’d keep a look out for squirrels I went back to my laptop.

 Monday was my elected day of work.  I’d wake up at five and head to the gym. After that, the rest of the hours were devoted to working on my pieces.  Being my own boss had its perks.  Thankfully the gym was empty when I got there.  I hit the treadmill with my headphones deeply rooted in my ears.  My feet pounded against the machine and the world fell away.  Nothing but classical music filled ears, my breathing began to match the pitch of trumpets and the strum of the violin.  Twenty minutes passed and I began to slow down.  Grabbing a towel I wiped off the sweat draining down my brow.

I needed to get Carol’s pan back.  That was always the awkward part of schmoozing, the first time was always weird. They’d answer the door looking at me weirdly until I asked for the dish.  I did squats along with some crunches before I headed back upstairs.

Standing before my neighbor’s door I silently hoped I didn’t have to slap anyone.  I hoped for a peaceful morning greeting without any hostility.  I took a deep breath before hitting my knuckles against the door and I waited.  And waited. Turning around I made sure the black Porsche was still next to my red KIA.  And it was.  Glowering at the door I knocked again, a bit harder than last time.  Maybe they didn’t get up this early, it was six in the morning after all.  I had a regeneration smoothie to make so hopefully someone would get up and open the door soon.

I was about to knock again when the door swung open and I was met with a broad-shouldered man with the bluest eyes.  Carol was right, the bearded man from Saturday wasn’t homeless, obviously. I just stood there silently taking him in.  I peered at the unruliness of his curls which ended at the nape of his neck.  His brown shirt clung to his figure, it was obvious he worked out.  I was never one for facial hair but his beard made me feel so hot.  Here I was standing before him with my mouth hanging open and the scent of sweat from my workout still clinging onto me.  I understood why Lori hid her man from me, I’d do the same if he were mine too.

His eyebrows were tightly knitted no doubt wondering why a maniac like me was banging on his door.  To the best of my ability, I gathered my wits remembering why I was knocking on his door at six am in the first place.

“Umm G-good morning.”  Now I was a stuttering mess.  Get it together Michonne!  I went seven years without finding attractive men attractive. This one wasn’t any different.

He had a small smile on his lips.  “Good morning…”  I forgot he had a southern drawl.

“umm, I left my pan here yesterday…I was wondering if I could get that back?”  He seemed amused by my frazzled state.

Running a hand through his curls in an effort to tame it he opened the door a little wider.  “Come inside, I’ll get it for you.”  He saw my hesitation.  “It wouldn’t be very nice if I left you outside.”  He explained.  It was just something about him, just being around him.  I couldn’t trust myself, but there I was going inside this man’s condo.

I stared at his back but I couldn’t help that my gaze went down to his ass encased in grey shorts.  What do they call these shorts now?  Dick shorts? Okay, I was positive I needed to lay off tumblr for a while.  I found my way to his leather couch.  Nothing really changed since peeking inside here yesterday.  The walls were still white and bland.  I appreciated the glass coffee table before me, it added a bit of color to the entire living room with one yellow stripe.  Other than that everything just screamed bland bachelor pad. For someone that Abe said loved my work, I guess I expected a tad more color.  I crossed my legs deciding to keep my hands to myself as I perched on the edge of his couch.  The less of my sweat I got on his things, the better.

“Can I get you anything? Water, tea, coffee?”  I looked over at the kitchen after hearing a clatter of dishes.  He ducked behind the counter when he came back up Carol’s dish was in his hands.

“No thanks, I actually have a smoothie to make.”  

“Oh, you were in the gym?”  Though it was a question it was more of an observation.  As if noticing my attire for the first time, I felt his eyes slide across my seated figure.  It was unnerving how my skin prickled with awareness.  At thirty, I was too old to be lusting after someone else’s man.

He approached me, holding out Carol’s precious pan.  “Thank you for the cookies, I washed and dried the pan for you.” Grabbing the pan I held on for dear life.  I felt completely surrounded by him.  He was just so close to me. I huffed ignoring my thoughts. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts and of course, my eyes darted to the movement.  Tumblr was onto something when they called it dick shorts, the name had a purpose.  I gaped at the impressive tint currently pressing against the grey fabric. Maybe it was just the horny haze muddling my mind but I could’ve sworn it twitched toward me.

He coughed, drawing my attention to his face.  He knew I was staring, hell I knew I was staring and it wasn’t an accident. Even though he knew I was gaping at his crotch his face didn’t give it away.  His face still held a small friendly smile.  This was out of character for me, I didn’t go around blatantly staring at men’s crotches.  I needed to get out of here.

“I’m really sorry about banging on your door this early.  I didn’t think about you still being asleep and all.”  I cringed inwardly.  Of course, he was still sleeping, when he answered the door he looked as if he just tumbled out of bed.  I retreated to the door.  I wanted to run for the exit but I wanted to seem more civilized.

Waving off my apology he opened the door for me.  “Don’t worry about that.  I needed that wake-up.  Hopefully, I’ll see you around…”  He trailed off waiting for me to fill in the blank.

“Michonne.”  I supplied taking a step outside.

“Michonne…”  He repeated, testing the word.  As it spilled from his lips I started to wonder why I never invested in a vibrator. “I like it, it’s unique.”  He studied me but he was frowning now.  “I’m Rick Grimes.”  

“I knew that already.”

He chuckled looking slightly embarrassed.  “Of course you do.  Lori must’ve told you.  I’ll be right here if you need anything.”  Well, I needed panties, bras, shirts, dresses, sandals and the list can go on but I’m sure he didn’t mean that.

“Same to you Rick.”  My fist lightly tapped his shoulder, it was a dorky move but I was graced with a wide smile.  But when he licked his lips I averted my eyes.  I stared at the spot above his head when I said my farewells and left.

[royalromancefanfic]

Chapter 1

“Leonie!” I heard my name being called and scanned the busy space around me. Passengers were arriving from all over the world to most likely get the best of Switzerland’s most picturesque skiing and snowboarding resorts. I soon found the voice that was calling my name. Once I had spotted where the voice had come from I walked closer to it.

“Hey!” I beamed in reply.

“So pleased you’re here.” Van said immediately moving in to kiss both of my cheeks. 

His dark brown hair was casually swept back. It had to be around 8pm, and the sun had long since disappeared but his sunglasses sat firmly on his bed of thick hair. He looked tanned, making me think he must’ve caught some rays earlier. He stood tall wearing a white oxford shirt which was rolled at the sleeves, casual dark wash jeans and some loafers.

“You look amazing.” He was way too complimentary, considering I was wearing a leather jacket, white tshirt, black jeans and flats. My tousled hair was left down - my makeup was non existent. “It’s so good to see you.” He beamed not letting me get much of a word in. He was excited. “How was your flight?”

Thomas van Staubenzee was all you imagined an Aristo’ to be like - very well groomed, very well spoken, and very well connected - but he also had an absolute heart of gold. Funnily enough, he was always the nicest guy in the room. Well to me anyway.

“Quick...quite short actually.” I smiled after answering his question. Getting to Sion from Geneva was quicker than I’d expected. Also, flights from London to Geneva were plenty. “How’s your mother and father? Both well?”

“They’re both great. Father is really excited for Louis’ next ski trip.”

“Yeah, papa is always going on about it.” I laughed lightly as I put my mobile phone into my handbag to free up my hands. “He’s always talking about how it needs to be bigger and better than last year and the year before. He’s looking forward to seeing your father and everyone else soon.” Every year my father would host a group of his closest friends at the van Staubenzee’s chalet. He loved his annual ski trip.

“Pardon me,” Van reached for my pull along suitcase. “How extremely rude of me. Let me help you with that.”

“I’ve got it.” I fanned him off. It’s not too heavy. It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” He asked wide eyed.

“Yes. It’s okay. Thanks Van.” I smiled at him gratefully.

“When are the rest of the crew arriving?” He wondered. Going back to the nature of my visit.

I’d almost forgot that I was in Switzerland for a shoot. British Vogue were shooting a winter lookbook with a group of Victoria Secret models - who also happened to be some of my closest friends/ex colleagues - at Van’s father’s chalet. I had sourced the location for the shoot and as Creative Director, was there to make sure everything fell into the right place.

“Tomorrow.” I’d taken an earlier flight in to make sure everything was good. “I’ll send a car to pick them up in the morning.”

“Terrific!” I knew Van was still pumped that I’d chosen his family chalet as the backdrop to our shoot. “Alright. Let’s head to the chalet.” His hands came together and he rubbed them. “Lady, your chariot awaits!” He led the way, leading me out the busy airport and to his car. It was a short 40 minute drive to his family’s chalet. However, once we’d pulled up I could only marvel at the cabin and the scenery. 

Van had shown me the infinite number of spacious rooms and relaxation spots (game room, gym, hot tub, pool and sauna) around the estate. We settled on the private balcony. The space was lit up well. It was also helped by the lights of the other chalets surrounding it.

Verbier, Switzerland had a certain air to it. Van’s estate was perfect.

It reminded me of my childhood. My winter breaks were spent sliding down the slopes, sledging with my younger sister and exploring winter walkways with my parents. The flour-white snow covered the dreamy heights of Verbier. The air smelt fresh and woody at the same time. And that was just the beautiful scenery. 

The actual chalet  had a spectacular view of the surrounding village and mountains.  

I took a deep breath and smiled. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Van could see the smile playing on my lips. I nodded. “You just wait until the morning. The whole place looks a lot better.”

I leant against the side of the balcony as my ears immediately picked up some noise. I cast my eyes around to see and hear where the music and loud drunken laughter was coming from. It was coming from the chalet to the right. “Looks like someone’s having a good time.” I laughed pointing to where the noise was coming from. I could see a group of guys and just about make out someone dancing on a table. “Doesn’t your family own that one too?” I wondered out loud. 

Van walked over to where I was and leant over the balcony. “Oh yes, that would be f*cking Skippy.” He laughed and shook his head. “It’s my best friend’s stag do this weekend.” He looked down at his watch to check the time. “They’re off their heads already!”

I imagined a bunch of hammered toffs dancing on the tables and drunkenly singing Wonderwall at the top of their lungs. 

“I should go...” He excused himself. “If you need anything this weekend, just give me a call.” He tapped his phone and began making his way out. He suddenly stopped himself. He turned back to me. “Actually, why don’t you come for a drink?” He suggested.

“A drink?” I repeated, thinking about it as I said it. 

“Yes, you know a liquid... that you ingest. The alcoholic kind is usually my preference.” He laughed. “Ohhh come on -” Before I could protest he squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll introduce you to the boys...”

And that’s where it all started.

>>

The chalet was almost identical to the one the shooting crew and I were staying at. 

Van grabbed me by the shoulders and steered me through the crowd of rowdy, drunk, happy toffs. The crowd parted easily, as he yelled and greeted guys on our way through it. Van was such a bubbly people person - it didn’t shock me. I was the only fully-clothed female in the room, so I think that caused some interest.

I heard a few hellos and questions of who I was, but both Van and I chose to ignore them. I noticed how quite a few of the guys looked and dressed the same.

“Here, take a drink.” Van picked up a glass of champagne from one of the practically-naked waitresses. She was wearing a skimpy gold two-piece with sequins. Her hair was snatched back into a sleek pony tail and her lipstick was a powerful crimson red. She was stunning, but I couldn’t help but feel bad - she wasn’t using her body in the right way. Van presented the glass of bubbly to me. “Looks like we’re about to toast to the groom.”

“The groom?” I whispered, more so wondering who he was. 

“Soon to be groom!” Van laughed and pointed out a tall guy who could barely stand up. He was covered in glitter and confetti. “It’s his stag do.”

The taller guy with deep brown/reddish curly locks raised his glass. He addressed the circle that had formed around him. “To good friends, good times and my last f*cking weekend as a free man!” He began sloshing around the large beer he had in his hand. 

The guys cheered. “To Skippy!” Another with dark spikey hair and supple rosey cheeks chimed in.

“To Skippy!” The grouped repeated before downing their glasses.

I let my glass sit between my lips before sipping slowly. I looked up to have my eyes connect with someone else’s. All I saw were giant blue orbs.

My eyes held the stare for a while, before I snapped out of it. I looked across at the face that was staring back at me. What. The. Heck? I hadn’t expected to see him here, but I kind of wasn’t surprised either - it was Britain’s aristo’ crowd after all. Plus it wouldn’t surprise me that he was connected to Van. Van knew everyone...

He was the first to cave. Looking away bashfully. 

I lowered my eyes and decided to distract myself with my phone. I found an empty space to my left and leant against the wall. I found that I had a couple of texts from Jas and Chrissy. 

Jasmine: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow chica. About to board my flight that’s taking me Europe bound. Picking us up from the airport? x

Chrissy: Borrowing your green skirt. Hope you don’t mind...

I quickly text them both back. Before I could look up and switch from iMessage to an app I felt someone’s presence to the left of me. I hesitated at first, because I had endured loud chat already. I looked up slightly and was met with a smile. I was taken aback slightly that I could only stare. 

“Do you ever blink?” He teased slightly. “I reckon you have a good poker face.” He leaned down a bit. He was much taller than I’d imagined. I was 6 foot, but he still lingered over me.

“Sorry?” I only snapped out of my daze at the last second. I immediately began to smell his strong but subtle fragrance. His blue orbs were drawing me in once more. I only then began tracing his face with my eyes. His beard was full and ginger, but slightly darker than his hair. 

“Harry.” He extended his hand, sharing his name like as if I had no clue as to who he was. He wasn’t just Harry. He was Prince Henry of Wales. I gulped slightly. “I hope you don’t mind me coming over.”

I looked down at his large open hand and shook it. “Leonie.” I played it cool. 

“Leonie.” He repeated after me, as he nodded and deepened his smile. It was almost like he was making sure he remembered my name. “That’s a lovely name. Pleasure to meet you.” His voice was way deeper and soothing than I expected. “Are-”

He was cut off as Van swooped into the mini semi-circle we’d created. “Leonie, I almost forgot to show you the best thing about your chalet. Want to follow me?” He was bursting to show me. He glanced at Harry and then realised he was interrupting something. He patted his friend on the back and winked. “Sorry Wales, I’m going to have to steal this one away.”

Before I knew it Van was taking me under his wing and showing off a private entrance to the ski lift that took you up to the mountain’s less busy slopes. “British Vogue will love this!” He smiled.

[lesbianbeiovaz]

Parallel: From Another World 7/34

I've had a few things going on lately sorry for the absence :)

Rita Stone lives in our world. The world where a big blue box bigger on the inside is simply impossible. However, this all changes after what is most definitely an impossible event. Then again nothing is impossible with the Doctor. Follow Rita through time and space, learning about herself while struggling to comprehend her new life travelling with the Doctor and his companions.

AO3 | CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12

The three turns a corner, Rita and Rose suddenly notice a soldier in similar clothes to the ones by the carriage earlier was laying on the floor as if he was dead.

"Oh, Miss." Flora cried out "I did warn you."

"He's not dead." Role paused and then continued. "I don't think," she looked at Rita wondering what she thought.

"No he's not" she confirmed.

"he must be drugged or something." Rose then added while looking at the man laying on the floor.

The bold man who Rita remembered from the episode as father Angelo grabbed Flora from behind. Rita jumped around in surprise feeling the maid grab her arm in fright Angelo held a hand firmly around the maid's mouth, unable to speak she widened her eyes at the brunette. Rose, on the other hand, was also grabbed by another one of the bold men in the same position as Flora. Rita had no time to react to what was going on with a third man coming up behind her grabbing her placing a hand over her mouth and dragging the three away.

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Angelo entered a very posh dining area with the Doctor Queen Victoria and one of the soldiers from before seated at a large table in the middle of the room lit by only candles. "Your companions beg for an apology, Doctor." He walked in not looking at the three "Their clothing has somewhat delayed them both."

"Oh, that's all right. Save them both a wee bit of ham." The Doctor looked up at Angelo and smiled.

"Very wise, Ma'am. Very witty" the soldier who obviously must be the captain commented smiling away at the Queen.

"Slightly witty, perhaps." She nodded in agreements, the Doctor watched the two talk and began to wonder how long it actually took for the two girls to change clothes. "I know you rarely get the chance to dine with me, Captain, but don't get too excited." the Queen warned, "I shall contain my wit in case I do you further injury."

"Yes, Ma'am. Sorry, Ma'am" The captain said

"Besides, we're all waiting on Sir Robert." the Doctor spoke turning to the man who looked slightly nervous. "Come, sir. You promised us a tale of nightmares."

"Indeed." Queen Victoria agreed with the Doctor "Since my husband's death, I find myself with more of a taste for supernatural fiction."

The Doctor nodded his head at the woman his mind elsewhere. Where are Rita and Rose? he repeatedly asked himself. "You must miss him." the Doctor replied stopping any thoughts about where the two were knowing that they were most likely busy trying on clothes with Rita complaining about dresses and having to change out of her 'strange' clothes, the Doctor smiled to himself at the thought of her moaning about the different clothes and Rose having no issues with them trying to encourage the brunette to wear a dress that she thought was 'hideous'

"Begin your tale, Sir Robert." the Doctor snapped back into reality not hearing what the Queen had just said he slowly nodded making no comment "There's a chill in the air. The wind is howling through the eaves." the Queen looked between the Doctor, Robert who was now sat down and the captain. "Tell us of monsters."

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Rita and Rose were chained up with Flora and a few another woman who seemed to work or live in the house. " Don't make a sound." the woman Rita remembered as Isobel from the episode warned the rest of the girls. "They said if we scream or shout, then he will slaughter us."

"But he's in a cage. He's a prisoner." Rose told them not knowing what the man really way "He's the same as us."

"He's nothing like us," Isobel spoke her voice cracking a little while she didn't look away from the man terror taking over her face.

"Isobel is right Rose" Rita stared at the creature her face fixed and unreadable. "That's not a man"

"That creature is not mortal," Isobel added only moments before the man's eyes shot open showing the black empty nothingness the woman chained up against the wall on the other side of the room jolt back in horror, even Rita who knew that this was going to happen jolted back in fright. Seeing this happen through a screen was one thing but seeing it in front of your eyes is another.

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"The story goes back three hundred years." Robert began looking a little calmer than before "Every full moon, the howling rings through the valley. The next morning, livestock is found ripped apart and devoured." The Doctor frowned listening to the man closely.

Tales like this just disguise the work of thieves. Steal a sheep and blame a wolf, simple as that.

"But sometimes a child goes missing." The Doctor raised his eyebrows and leant in a little closer "Once in a generation, a boy will vanish from his homestead."

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Rose started to get up from the ground Rita then followed as well having no choice since she was chained up to the blonde, not that it made any difference since she wouldn't put her in danger even if she know Rose would survive it knowing how much the Doctor cared for her even if he didn't even know it himself yet she couldn't place her in any possible life threatening danger that Rose most likely would escape.

" Don't, children" was the only warning Isobel gave them both.

"Who are you?" Rose asked ignoring her.

"Don't enrage him." a steward also chained up also warned Rose who proceeded to ignore him.

"Where are you from?" She started to kneel down not being able to move forward any further. Rita stood by her protecting Rose, she could never be too sure.

"You're not from Earth," Rita told the man more like a statement than a question.

"What planet are you from?" Rose asked wanting to help the man.

"Oh, intelligence." the man snapped his head in Rita's direction she stayed firmly in place. His voice was scratchy and croaky as if he had not spoken for a long time.

"Where were you born?" Rose asked ignoring his comment to her friend.

"This body? Ten miles away. A weakling," he spat "Heartsick boy, stolen away at night by the brethren for my cultivation. I carved out his soul and sat in his heart." The man spoke as if it was an everyday thing for him to just take a body like that. Take the body of a young man someone somewhere loved siblings parents possibly a relationship all gone because something more powerful than him could take his body and claim it as its own.

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"Are there descriptions of the creature?" The Doctor was definitely interested.

"Oh, yes, Doctor. Drawings and woodcarvings." Robert paused looking at the Doctor very seriously "And it's not merely a wolf. It's more than that. This is a man who becomes an animal." he spoke as if it was impossible yet so real like he had seen it before or at least know it was real. "A werewolf?" the Doctor widened his eyes asking Robert if what he thought he had heard correctly was indeed real.

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"All right," Rose sighed trying to piece things together as Rita watched trying to remember as much about the episode as she could which honestly wasn't that good considering the episode was released in April 2006. It was around January 2017 for Rita before she had come here, she didn't remember as much as she would have done with the episode being fresh in her mind. "So the body's human." Rose questioned the man thinking though every so delicately "But what about you, the thing inside?"

"So far from home, just like you Miss Stone" the man snapped his head to the brunette now wide-eyed with more fear than she ever had been full of before. Rose stared at the brunette with disbelief How does it know me? Rita repeated over and over in her mind thinking back trying to remember the episode. It never mentioned Rose in the episode? she thought now doubting herself more and more the longer she thought about it. Why me? she questioned herself. It couldn't have anything to do with me being from 'another world' or the future, Rose was from the future as well? The girl thought. Why didn't it mention Rose?

"We can help you get back home." Rita shook the thoughts from her head focusing on the current moment.

"Why would I leave this place?" He asked "A world of industry, of workforce and warfare. I could turn it to such purpose." The voice almost gleamed at the thought.

"How would you do that?" Rose asked

"I would migrate to the Holy Monarch."

"You mean you would take over Queen Victoria" Rita corrected making it sound much harsher than it already did.

"With one bite, I would pass into her blood, and then it begins. The Empire of the Wolf. Many questions." The man lunged forward, hands on bars and his face between them staring at the girls.

"Look. Inside your eyes. You've seen it too." The scratchy voice spoke.

"Seen what?" Rose asked confused. Rita slowly moved her hand over to Rose's to comfort the girl knowing what was about to be said.

"The Wolf. There is something of the Wolf about you" he didn't fully understand what he could possibly see in the blonde's eyes.

"I don't know what you mean." Rose denied all knowledge, however, she knew what he meant, she just didn't believe it. "You burnt like the sun, but all I require is the moon." He said before snapping his head to Rita. "And you," she frowned puzzled. "The girl so alone yet not so much." Rita frowned. She wasn't alone she had Rose and the Doctor they were all she really needed, none of her 'friends' from 'her world' had time to spend with her, always at parties or family dinners. Rita was all alone.

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"My father didn't treat it as a story." Robert continued "He said it was fact. He even claimed to have communed with the beast, to have learned its purpose. I should have listened. His work was hindered. He made enemies. There's a monastery in the Glen of Saint Catherine. The Brethren opposed my father's investigations." He explained. There was a faint whisper in the room coming from Angelo staring up at the moon.

"Perhaps they thought his work ungodly." The Queen suggested. "That's what I thought." He sighed his eyes flickering between Angelo and the three sitting at the table "But now I wonder. What if they had a different reason for wanting the story kept quiet?" He paused looking at the three seriously "What if they turned from God and worshipped the wolf?"

The Doctors eyes widened suddenly realising what Robert was talking about his eyes scanned the room landing on Angelo by the window ignoring the four at the table, staring at the moon mumbling words in a whisper. "And what if they were with us right now?" He said turning back to the three.

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The cellar doors flew open causing the chained up people to jump back and the man to throw his head in the direction of the light. "Moonlight" he whispered pushing his head between the bars trying to get as close as he possibly can to touch the light. A wind began to rise in the room, impossible since it wasn't windy out Rita could clearly see there was not a single breeze she knew Rose could see as well. The man began to remove his cloak. She pulled the blonde back to the wall and grabbed the chain with both hands.

"All of you!" Rose shouted back at them understanding Rita's plan or what was meant to be her own plan. "Stop looking at it!" She turned to Flora and looked at her in the eyes, terror taking over the girls body "Flora, don't look at it" Rita called back making an early start on pulling the chain. "Listen to her!" Rose shouted at Flora "Grab hold of the chain and pull!" She ordered the rest of the people in the room. Eyes fix on the man now almost the wolf. "Come on! With me! Pull!" She grabbed the chain and began to pull along with Rita with all her might.

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"What is the meaning of this?" Queen Victoria demanded to know what was going on her.

"Explain yourself, Sir Robert!" The captain also demanded, shouting at Robert.

"What's happening?" The Queen asked confused she looked between the two men for an answer while the Doctor sat in his chair thinking.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, they've got my wife." Sir Robert blurted out. The Doctor widened his eyes and then jumped up storming over to Angelo who wasn't paying attention as if he was in some kind of trance.

"Rose!" He shouted at the man who was still taking no notice of him "Where's Rita!?" he shouted gritting his teeth and clenching his hands that were now in tight fists "Where are they!? Sir Robert, come on!" he turned and ran ordering the man to follow.

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The two girls along with the rest of the people chained together continued to pull the chain attached to the wall with all their strength, not wasting a single moment or breath Rita gritted her teeth arms aching and hands feeling like a newly lit fire with how much they burned and stung from pulling the chain and almost her skin. Rose also felt the same she counted the group in ready to pull: "One, two, three, pull!" she shouted out. "One, two, three, pull!"

"One, two, three, pull!" Rose shouted again, Rita groaned pulling with all of the energy she had left in her arms freeing the chain and the group of kidnapped people from the wall. Rita jolted her head in the direction of the door as she heard it breaking open on the other side.

"Doctor!" Rita shouted getting Rose and the Doctors attention.

"Where the hell have you been?" Rose sighed in relief still not out of danger, though.

"Oh that's beautiful" The Doctor mumbled staring at the wolf as it fully formed snapping parts of the cage.

"Now's not the time to flirt with it, Doctor!" Rita shouted at him while Robert ordered everyone out of the room. The wolf breaks the cage with its size freeing itself and snapping its neck in the group's direction"Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out!" the Doctor shouted at the remaining people in the room pushing them to the door Rose ran out and into the hallway waiting for the Doctor, Rita stood just before the doorway knowing what was to happen next.

"Come on!" Rose shouted at the pair while running down the hallway the Doctor watching the wolf in awe Rita standing waiting for him.

"Doctor!" she shouted just before the wolf threw part of its cage at the man who ducked under it grabbing Rita's hand and rushed out the room locking the door with the sonic screwdriver after him, The Doctor and Rita raised down the hall after Rose. They both catch up to Rose who was with the rest of the people from the cellar in a room as Sir Robert handed out guns and orders to the men.

"Arms, and you five. Ready, everyone?" he asked the men, the Doctor and Rita ran up to Rose. "I thought you both died!" she hit Rita and the Doctors arms

"Not today Rose" Rita smiled "Had to make sure he got out with his head" Rita pointed her thumb at the Doctor. "You may like your thumb but you look better with your head attached to your body" Rita shook her own head.

"What is it though Doctor?" Rose asked while he used the sonic screwdriver to remove the shackles off the girls.

"It could be any form of light modulated species triggered by specific wavelengths." he shook his head still unsure.

'Think Doctor' Rita thought

"Did it say what it wanted?" He looked at them both.

"The Queen, the Crown, the throne - you name it." she shook her head confused as to why.

the three heard a crash, the Doctor ran back to the hall to see what it was guessing most likely the wolf Rita sighed shaking her head before following staying behind the corner and peeking out to see the Doctor standing there still watching the wolf what was growling and sending daggers at him with its eyes. The wolf then began to ran the Doctor didn't move What are you doing?! She thought to widen her eyes as the wolf came closer not thinking she ran out and grabbed his hand jolting him back and pulling him with her "Come on!" She shouted rolling her eyes and running as fast as she could. "One day you're going to get yourself killed because you think something looks pretty!" They ran back to where a line of men was pointing guns in there direction, not at them, though. The Doctor pulled Rose back behind him along with Rita keeping them both behind him while he stood behind them, men.

"Fire!" the man in the middle shouted as the wolf came into sight. "Fire!" he repeated while they shot at the wolf. The wolf then dived the corner escaping some of the bullets, Rita knew it wasn't over and she could see that the Doctor and possibly Rose also realised just that.

The Doctor ordered the men lined up: "All right, you men. We should retreat upstairs. Come with me." he told them.

"I'll not retreat." the man in the middle told the Doctor, Rita gritted her teeth knowing what was to happen next. "The battle's done. There's no creature on God's Earth that could survive such an assault."

"How do you know that?" Rita said through her gritted teeth.

"It's impossible," he told her.

"Nothing is impossible, the Doctor is trying to save your life!" she shouted her eyes blazing at the man.

"You girl" he pointed right in her face. "You do not have the authority to tell me what to do!"

"authority my a-"

"I'm telling you" the Doctor spoke calmly, much calmer than he did in the episode. "Come upstairs"

"And I'm telling you, sir," he started to walk away from the group towards the corridor, Rita went to try and stop him only to be pulled back by the Doctor, she looked up and could see the sadness in his eyes. Is this what it's like? she thought.

Is this what I am going to have to get used to? Knowing that people will die and I just have to stand there and watch? she sighed and felt a squeeze in her hand. The Doctor trying to comfort her, Rose placed one of her hands upon Rita's shoulder as the man continued.

"I will sleep well tonight with that thing's hide upon my wall" He turned towards where the wolf had stood, looking round the corner he then turned back towards the group. Rita closed her eyes squeezing them as tight as possible. "It must have crawled away to die." He grinned mo king the group before screaming in pain as he was pulled into the air and ripped into shreds. The Doctor looked up in horror and anger grabbing Rose's hand with the one not holding Rita's

"There's nothing we can do!" The Doctor shouts.

"Everybody out!" Rita shouted ordering everyone to move. The Doctor pulled the girls away from the beast hearing the monstrosity of the man screaming in agony behind them as his skin and bones were pulled apart.

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The Doctor, Rita and Rose were with "All right, you men. We should retreat upstairs. Come with me.

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The three continued to run not looking back. They came to a staircase finding Queen Victoria and Sir Robert who had ran ahead. "The front door's no good, it's been boarded shut." The Doctor informed them both and then looked over at to the Queen "Pardon me, Your Majesty. You'll have to leg it out of a window." He pursed his lips and then gestured with his hand to the room with the open window which he had found moments before. Rita followed the Doctor Rose, Queen Victoria and Robert into the room. "Excuse my manners, Ma'am," he looked over at the Queen "but I shall go first, the better to assist Her Majesty's egress."

"A noble sentiment, my Sir Walter Raleigh" the Queen smiled nodding in approval.

The Doctor sighed and then broke his Scottish accent "Yeah, any chance you could hurry up?" He snapped.

"Accent" Rita whispered behind him just loud enough for him and Rose to hear while Robert opened the window and began to climb out only to almost dive back in again as bullets flew in the group's direction coming from only the monks.

"I reckon the monkey boys want us to stay inside." The Doctor commented keeping his head down with his companions behind him just as low to the ground as he was.

"Do they know who I am?" Queen Victoria said in disgust standing back up and looking between the people in the room with her.

"Yeah, that's why they want you." Rose pointed out. "The wolf's lined you up for a, a biting."

"And that's not a metaphor" Rita added.

"Stop this talk." She demanded. "There can't be an actual wolf." She stated before hearing the howling of the wolf itself. The three, as well as the Queen and Sir Robert, snapped their heads in the direction of the door the Doctor then ran into the corridor and stared at the door clearly seeing the wolfs attempts to get in.

"What do we do?" Rose asked her eyes fixated on the door.

"We run" the Doctor stared at the door.

"Just like we have been doing" Rita sighed. "I ran less in a year at school" she joked then looked between the Doctor and Rose seeing their unamused expression. "Sorry bad time" she mumbled looking at the floor.

"Is that it?" Rose asking her voice raising a little.

The Doctor finally looked away from the door turning to Rose, "You got any silver bullets?" He snapped

"Not on me, no." Rose snapped back.

"There we are then," he tilted his head at her.

"Not the time" Rita snapped at them both.

"we run." He looked over at the Queen "Your Majesty, as a Doctor, I recommend a vigorous jog." He then mimicked a jog and smiled, placing his hand out for the Queen to take. "Good for the health. Come on!"

The Doctor took the lead up the stairs followed by Sir Robert then Rita and Rose running up together. There was a loud crash of wood smashing and colliding with the floor. Rita turned her head and looked down the spiral stairs to look for the wolf. She saw it snarling at her.

[lesbianbeiovaz]

Parallel: From Another World 7/?

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tenth Doctor / OC Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Rita Stone (OC) Additional Tags: Friendship, Major Original Character(s), Season/Series 02 Summary:

Rita Stone lives in our world. The world where a big blue box bigger on the inside is simply impossible. However, this all changes after what is most definitely an impossible event. Then again nothing is impossible with the Doctor.

Follow Rita through time and space, learning about herself while struggling to comprehend her new life travelling with the Doctor and his companions. Doctor x OC

*I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters. All original ownership goes to the BBC.

AO3 | FF.NET 

The three turns a corner, Rita and Rose suddenly notice a soldier in similar clothes to the ones by the carriage earlier was laying on the floor as if he was dead.

"Oh, Miss." Flora cried out "I did warn you."

"He's not dead." Role paused and then continued. "I don't think," she looked at Rita wondering what she thought.

"No he's not" she confirmed.

"he must be drugged or something." Rose then added while looking at the man laying on the floor.

The bold man who Rita remembered from the episode as father Angelo grabbed Flora from behind. Rita jumped around in surprise feeling the maid grab her arm in fright Angelo held a hand firmly around the maid's mouth, unable to speak she widened her eyes at the brunette. Rose, on the other hand, was also grabbed by another one of the bold men in the same position as Flora. Rita had no time to react to what was going on with a third man coming up behind her grabbing her placing a hand over her mouth and dragging the three away.

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Angelo entered a very posh dining area with the Doctor Queen Victoria and one of the soldiers from before seated at a large table in the middle of the room lit by only candles. "Your companions beg for an apology, Doctor." He walked in not looking at the three "Their clothing has somewhat delayed them both."

"Oh, that's all right. Save them both a wee bit of ham." The Doctor looked up at Angelo and smiled. 

"Very wise, Ma'am. Very witty" the soldier who obviously must be the captain commented smiling away at the Queen.

"Slightly witty, perhaps." She nodded in agreements, the Doctor watched the two talk and began to wonder how long it actually took for the two girls to change clothes. "I know you rarely get the chance to dine with me, Captain, but don't get too excited." the Queen warned, "I shall contain my wit in case I do you further injury."

"Yes, Ma'am. Sorry, Ma'am" The captain said

"Besides, we're all waiting on Sir Robert." the Doctor spoke turning to the man who looked slightly nervous. "Come, sir. You promised us a tale of nightmares."

"Indeed." Queen Victoria agreed with the Doctor "Since my husband's death, I find myself with more of a taste for supernatural fiction."

The Doctor nodded his head at the woman his mind elsewhere. Where are Rita and Rose? he repeatedly asked himself. "You must miss him." the Doctor replied stopping any thoughts about where the two were knowing that they were most likely busy trying on clothes with Rita complaining about dresses and having to change out of her 'strange' clothes, the Doctor smiled to himself at the thought of her moaning about the different clothes and Rose having no issues with them trying to encourage the brunette to wear a dress that she thought was 'hideous'

"Begin your tale, Sir Robert." the Doctor snapped back into reality not hearing what the Queen had just said he slowly nodded making no comment "There's a chill in the air. The wind is howling through the eaves." the Queen looked between the Doctor, Robert who was now sat down and the captain. "Tell us of monsters." 

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Rita and Rose were chained up with Flora and a few another woman who seemed to work or live in the house. " Don't make a sound." the woman Rita remembered as Isobel from the episode warned the rest of the girls. "They said if we scream or shout, then he will slaughter us."

"But he's in a cage. He's a prisoner." Rose told them not knowing what the man really way "He's the same as us."

"He's nothing like us," Isobel spoke her voice cracking a little while she didn't look away from the man terror taking over her face.

"Isobel is right Rose" Rita stared at the creature her face fixed and unreadable. "That's not a man"

"That creature is not mortal," Isobel added only moments before the man's eyes shot open showing the black empty nothingness the woman chained up against the wall on the other side of the room jolt back in horror, even Rita who knew that this was going to happen jolted back in fright. Seeing this happen through a screen was one thing but seeing it in front of your eyes is another.

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"The story goes back three hundred years." Robert began looking a little calmer than before "Every full moon, the howling rings through the valley. The next morning, livestock is found ripped apart and devoured." The Doctor frowned listening to the man closely.

Tales like this just disguise the work of thieves. Steal a sheep and blame a wolf, simple as that.

"But sometimes a child goes missing." The Doctor raised his eyebrows and leant in a little closer "Once in a generation, a boy will vanish from his homestead."

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Rose started to get up from the ground Rita then followed as well having no choice since she was chained up to the blonde, not that it made any difference since she wouldn't put her in danger even if she know Rose would survive it knowing how much the Doctor cared for her even if he didn't even know it himself yet she couldn't place her in any possible life threatening danger that Rose most likely would escape.

" Don't, children" was the only warning Isobel gave them both.

"Who are you?" Rose asked ignoring her.

"Don't enrage him." a steward also chained up also warned Rose who proceeded to ignore him.

"Where are you from?" She started to kneel down not being able to move forward any further. Rita stood by her protecting Rose, she could never be too sure.

"You're not from Earth," Rita told the man more like a statement than a question.

"What planet are you from?" Rose asked wanting to help the man.

"Oh, intelligence." the man snapped his head in Rita's direction she stayed firmly in place. His voice was scratchy and croaky as if he had not spoken for a long time.

"Where were you born?" Rose asked ignoring his comment to her friend.

"This body? Ten miles away. A weakling," he spat "Heartsick boy, stolen away at night by the brethren for my cultivation. I carved out his soul and sat in his heart." The man spoke as if it was an everyday thing for him to just take a body like that. Take the body of a young man someone somewhere loved siblings parents possibly a relationship all gone because something more powerful than him could take his body and claim it as its own.

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"Are there descriptions of the creature?" The Doctor was definitely interested. 

"Oh, yes, Doctor. Drawings and woodcarvings." Robert paused looking at the Doctor very seriously "And it's not merely a wolf. It's more than that. This is a man who becomes an animal." he spoke as if it was impossible yet so real like he had seen it before or at least know it was real.  "A werewolf?" the Doctor widened his eyes asking Robert if what he thought he had heard correctly was indeed real.

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"All right," Rose sighed trying to piece things together as Rita watched trying to remember as much about the episode as she could which honestly wasn't that good considering the episode was released in April 2006. It was around January 2017 for Rita before she had come here, she didn't remember as much as she would have done with the episode being fresh in her mind. "So the body's human." Rose questioned the man thinking though every so delicately "But what about you, the thing inside?"

"So far from home, just like you Miss Stone" the man snapped his head to the brunette now wide-eyed with more fear than she ever had been full of before. Rose stared at the brunette with disbelief How does it know me? Rita repeated over and over in her mind thinking back trying to remember the episode. It never mentioned Rose in the episode? she thought now doubting herself more and more the longer she thought about it. Why me? she questioned herself. It couldn't have anything to do with me being from 'another world' or the future, Rose was from the future as well? The girl thought. Why didn't it mention Rose?

"We can help you get back home." Rita shook the thoughts from her head focusing on the current moment.

"Why would I leave this place?" He asked "A world of industry, of workforce and warfare. I could turn it to such purpose." The voice almost gleamed at the thought.

"How would you do that?" Rose asked

"I would migrate to the Holy Monarch."

"You mean you would take over Queen Victoria" Rita corrected making it sound much harsher than it already did.

"With one bite, I would pass into her blood, and then it begins. The Empire of the Wolf. Many questions." The man lunged forward, hands on bars and his face between them staring at the girls.

"Look. Inside your eyes. You've seen it too." The scratchy voice spoke.

"Seen what?" Rose asked confused. Rita slowly moved her hand over to Rose's to comfort the girl knowing what was about to be said.

"The Wolf. There is something of the Wolf about you" he didn't fully understand what he could possibly see in the blonde's eyes.

"I don't know what you mean." Rose denied all knowledge, however, she knew what he meant, she just didn't believe it. "You burnt like the sun, but all I require is the moon." He said before snapping his head to Rita. "And you," she frowned puzzled. "The girl so alone yet not so much." Rita frowned. She wasn't alone she had Rose and the Doctor they were all she really needed, none of her 'friends' from 'her world' had time to spend with her, always at parties or family dinners. Rita was all alone.

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"My father didn't treat it as a story." Robert continued "He said it was fact. He even claimed to have communed with the beast, to have learned its purpose. I should have listened. His work was hindered. He made enemies. There's a monastery in the Glen of Saint Catherine. The Brethren opposed my father's investigations." He explained. There was a faint whisper in the room coming from Angelo staring up at the moon.

"Perhaps they thought his work ungodly." The Queen suggested. "That's what I thought." He sighed his eyes flickering between Angelo and the three sitting at the table "But now I wonder. What if they had a different reason for wanting the story kept quiet?" He paused looking at the three seriously "What if they turned from God and worshipped the wolf?"

The Doctors eyes widened suddenly realising what Robert was talking about his eyes scanned the room landing on Angelo by the window ignoring the four at the table, staring at the moon mumbling words in a whisper. "And what if they were with us right now?" He said turning back to the three.

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The cellar doors flew open causing the chained up people to jump back and the man to throw his head in the direction of the light. "Moonlight" he whispered pushing his head between the bars trying to get as close as he possibly can to touch the light. A wind began to rise in the room, impossible since it wasn't windy out Rita could clearly see there was not a single breeze she knew Rose could see as well. The man began to remove his cloak. She pulled the blonde back to the wall and grabbed the chain with both hands.

"All of you!" Rose shouted back at them understanding Rita's plan or what was meant to be her own plan. "Stop looking at it!" She turned to Flora and looked at her in the eyes, terror taking over the girls body "Flora, don't look at it" Rita called back making an early start on pulling the chain. "Listen to her!" Rose shouted at Flora "Grab hold of the chain and pull!" She ordered the rest of the people in the room. Eyes fix on the man now almost the wolf. "Come on! With me! Pull!" She grabbed the chain and began to pull along with Rita with all her might.

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"What is the meaning of this?" Queen Victoria demanded to know what was going on her.

"Explain yourself, Sir Robert!" The captain also demanded, shouting at Robert.

"What's happening?" The Queen asked confused she looked between the two men for an answer while the Doctor sat in his chair thinking.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, they've got my wife." Sir Robert blurted out. The Doctor widened his eyes and then jumped up storming over to Angelo who wasn't paying attention as if he was in some kind of trance.

"Rose!" He shouted at the man who was still taking no notice of him "Where's Rita!?" he shouted gritting his teeth and clenching his hands that were now in tight fists "Where are they!? Sir Robert, come on!" he turned and ran ordering the man to follow.

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The two girls along with the rest of the people chained together continued to pull the chain attached to the wall with all their strength, not wasting a single moment or breath Rita gritted her teeth arms aching and hands feeling like a newly lit fire with how much they burned and stung from pulling the chain and almost her skin. Rose also felt the same she counted the group in ready to pull: "One, two, three, pull!" she shouted out. "One, two, three, pull!"

"One, two, three, pull!" Rose shouted again, Rita groaned pulling with all of the energy she had left in her arms freeing the chain and the group of kidnapped people from the wall. Rita jolted her head in the direction of the door as she heard it breaking open on the other side.

"Doctor!" Rita shouted getting Rose and the Doctors attention.

"Where the hell have you been?" Rose sighed in relief still not out of danger, though.

"Oh that's beautiful" The Doctor mumbled staring at the wolf as it fully formed snapping parts of the cage.

"Now's not the time to flirt with it, Doctor!" Rita shouted at him while Robert ordered everyone out of the room. The wolf breaks the cage with its size freeing itself and snapping its neck in the group's direction"Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out!" the Doctor shouted at the remaining people in the room pushing them to the door Rose ran out and into the hallway waiting for the Doctor, Rita stood just before the doorway knowing what was to happen next.

"Come on!" Rose shouted at the pair while running down the hallway the Doctor watching the wolf in awe Rita standing waiting for him.

"Doctor!" she shouted just before the wolf threw part of its cage at the man who ducked under it grabbing Rita's hand and rushed out the room locking the door with the sonic screwdriver after him, The Doctor and Rita raised down the hall after Rose. They both catch up to Rose who was with the rest of the people from the cellar in a room as Sir Robert handed out guns and orders to the men.

"Arms, and you five. Ready, everyone?" he asked the men, the Doctor and Rita ran up to Rose. "I thought you both died!" she hit Rita and the Doctors arms

"Not today Rose" Rita smiled "Had to make sure he got out with his head" Rita pointed her thumb at the Doctor. "You may like your thumb but you look better with your head attached to your body" Rita shook her own head.

"What is it though Doctor?" Rose asked while he used the sonic screwdriver to remove the shackles off the girls.

"It could be any form of light modulated species triggered by specific wavelengths." he shook his head still unsure.

'Think Doctor' Rita thought

"Did it say what it wanted?" He looked at them both.

"The Queen, the Crown, the throne - you name it." she shook her head confused as to why.

the three heard a crash, the Doctor ran back to the hall to see what it was guessing most likely the wolf Rita sighed shaking her head before following staying behind the corner and peeking out to see the Doctor standing there still watching the wolf what was growling and sending daggers at him with its eyes. The wolf then began to ran the Doctor didn't move What are you doing?! She thought to widen her eyes as the wolf came closer not thinking she ran out and grabbed his hand jolting him back and pulling him with her "Come on!" She shouted rolling her eyes and running as fast as she could. "One day you're going to get yourself killed because you think something looks pretty!" They ran back to where a line of men was pointing guns in there direction, not at them, though. The Doctor pulled Rose back behind him along with Rita keeping them both behind him while he stood behind them, men.

"Fire!" the man in the middle shouted as the wolf came into sight. "Fire!" he repeated while they shot at the wolf. The wolf then dived the corner escaping some of the bullets, Rita knew it wasn't over and she could see that the Doctor and possibly Rose also realised just that.

The Doctor ordered the men lined up: "All right, you men. We should retreat upstairs. Come with me." he told them.

"I'll not retreat." the man in the middle told the Doctor, Rita gritted her teeth knowing what was to happen next. "The battle's done. There's no creature on God's Earth that could survive such an assault."

"How do you know that?" Rita said through her gritted teeth.

"It's impossible," he told her.

"Nothing is impossible, the Doctor is trying to save your life!" she shouted her eyes blazing at the man.

"You girl" he pointed right in her face. "You do not have the authority to tell me what to do!"

"authority my a-"

"I'm telling you" the Doctor spoke calmly, much calmer than he did in the episode. "Come upstairs"

"And I'm telling you, sir," he started to walk away from the group towards the corridor, Rita went to try and stop him only to be pulled back by the Doctor, she looked up and could see the sadness in his eyes. Is this what it's like? she thought.

Is this what I am going to have to get used to? Knowing that people will die and I just have to stand there and watch? she sighed and felt a squeeze in her hand. The Doctor trying to comfort her, Rose placed one of her hands upon Rita's shoulder as the man continued.

"I will sleep well tonight with that thing's hide upon my wall" He turned towards where the wolf had stood, looking round the corner he then turned back towards the group. Rita closed her eyes squeezing them as tight as possible. "It must have crawled away to die." He grinned mo king the group before screaming in pain as he was pulled into the air and ripped into shreds. The Doctor looked up in horror and anger grabbing Rose's hand with the one not holding Rita's

"There's nothing we can do!" The Doctor shouts.

"Everybody out!" Rita shouted ordering everyone to move. The Doctor pulled the girls away from the beast hearing the monstrosity of the man screaming in agony behind them as his skin and bones were pulled apart.

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The Doctor, Rita and Rose were with "All right, you men. We should retreat upstairs. Come with me.

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The three continued to run not looking back. They came to a staircase finding Queen Victoria and Sir Robert who had ran ahead. "The front door's no good, it's been boarded shut." The Doctor informed them both and then looked over at to the Queen "Pardon me, Your Majesty. You'll have to leg it out of a window." He pursed his lips and then gestured with his hand to the room with the open window which he had found moments before. Rita followed the Doctor Rose, Queen Victoria and Robert into the room. "Excuse my manners, Ma'am," he looked over at the Queen "but I shall go first, the better to assist Her Majesty's egress."

"A noble sentiment, my Sir Walter Raleigh" the Queen smiled nodding in approval.

The Doctor sighed and then broke his Scottish accent "Yeah, any chance you could hurry up?" He snapped.

"Accent" Rita whispered behind him just loud enough for him and Rose to hear while Robert opened the window and began to climb out only to almost dive back in again as bullets flew in the group's direction coming from only the monks.

"I reckon the monkey boys want us to stay inside." The Doctor commented keeping his head down with his companions behind him just as low to the ground as he was.

"Do they know who I am?" Queen Victoria said in disgust standing back up and looking between the people in the room with her.

"Yeah, that's why they want you." Rose pointed out. "The wolf's lined you up for a, a biting."

"And that's not a metaphor" Rita added.

"Stop this talk." She demanded. "There can't be an actual wolf." She stated before hearing the howling of the wolf itself. The three, as well as the Queen and Sir Robert, snapped their heads in the direction of the door the Doctor then ran into the corridor and stared at the door clearly seeing the wolfs attempts to get in.

"What do we do?" Rose asked her eyes fixated on the door.

"We run" the Doctor stared at the door.

"Just like we have been doing" Rita sighed. "I ran less in a year at school" she joked then looked between the Doctor and Rose seeing their unamused expression. "Sorry bad time" she mumbled looking at the floor.

"Is that it?" Rose asking her voice raising a little.

The Doctor finally looked away from the door turning to Rose, "You got any silver bullets?" He snapped

"Not on me, no." Rose snapped back.

"There we are then," he tilted his head at her.

"Not the time" Rita snapped at them both.

"we run." He looked over at the Queen "Your Majesty, as a Doctor, I recommend a vigorous jog." He then mimicked a jog and smiled, placing his hand out for the Queen to take. "Good for the health. Come on!"

The Doctor took the lead up the stairs followed by Sir Robert then Rita and Rose running up together. There was a loud crash of wood smashing and colliding with the floor. Rita turned her head and looked down the spiral stairs to look for the wolf. She saw it snarling at her.