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adventuringblind · 7 months

Note

Hi! Just wanted to say I love your x blind! reader pieces as a fellow visually impaired F1 fan! It makes me feel so seen. I would love to see more with any driver, but it would be cool to see more of Max or Charles with the blind sister. :)

Saftey Hazard

Oscar Piastri x Verstappen Reader

Genre: fluuuuufffff

Summary: Max volunteers a car to teach his sister how to drive. But Oscar is the one giving the lesson.

Warnings: dont try this at home? I definitely would.

Notes: reminder the blindness is a spectrum! Everybody is different!!

Masterlist

One thing about being blind is the lack of driving. It's like having an aspect of freedom ripped away. Something that other kids get to do while you're stuck being driven everywhere. The feeling of burdening other people with the constant need always exhausting.

Unless your name name is Max Verstappen. His sisters chauffer. He drives her everywhere she wants to go without hesitation or question.

In return, she comes to all his races, diligently uses her cane (even when she hates it) and listens for all the gossip. Her ears are amazing, and Max likes to use it to his advantage.

Then along came Oscar. It was inevitable that they would meet because he is Lando's teammate and Lando is Max's best friend. Similarly, her and the Brit are in cahoots to make Max fess up to Charles. There is a betting pool and everything.

She met Oscar while out clubbing. An activity that usually led to either Lando or Max going home not sober. Tonight, they would both be intoxicated because Oscar had offered himself up as the designated driver.

Sober conversations in a club with someone is an odd concept to her, considering the world she lives in.

Long story short: Her and Oscar got together before Max and Charles (much to Lando's dismay as he now owes her money).

Now, Max had been very clear that it is unsafe for her to drive. Which is true, considering she can't see much of the road let alone the cars around her. However, if the case arose where she could drive around an open track then he would provide a car if necessary.

She manages to crack Christian into making it a media thing. Perfect for the Press, give them something to chew on for a while maybe. If being a sacrificial lamb to the internet is what lets her drive, then so be it.

They do it in Austria around the Red Bull Ring. Max deemed this the best spot because of the long straight.

Even better: They've managed to convince McLaren to let their drivers join them for the occasion. Mostly because Max didn't want to be in a car with her driving, so Lando offered to teach then torcher his rookie teammate by letting his blind girlfriend drive as fast as the car will let her around the track.

Lessons go well. She's a quick study, and Lando, despite his chaotic nature, is a good teacher. Of course, it helps that she's driving an automatic, but she has a led foot like Max and wants to go as fast as possible.

After an hour, Lando gets out of the car. He's laughing like a maniac because he has no idea how well this is going to go. She may be driving an average car, but it certainly doesn't feel like it is with someone who can't see behind the wheel.

Oscar slides into the passenger seat and peers over at the female. She's vibrating with excitement. Despite the helmet, he can see the smile in her eyes.

"I have a feeling you're going to scare me and you're going to love it."

"Do you not trust me?" She feigns. Fake hurt dripping from her tone.

"Not in a car, no."

"I feel so loved."

With Oscar secured in the vehicle, she slams the gas pedal. Oscar doesn't make any noise if he's startled.

Actually, he barely makes noise at all. Aside from casually commenting every now and then on how she takes a turn. Sometimes, he makes her laugh with his commentary and usual deadpan humor.

When they do eventually step out of the the car, Oscar looks smitten. Heart eyes at his lover while they discuss how she did.

"I think I could race."

"Absolutely not. I'm not letting you anywhere near a supercar, let alone a formula one car." Oscar gives her a very serious look.

"You didn't seem scared at all!"

"Oh, that was terrifying, but I thought if I showed you I was scared, it might freak you out." He explains. Her mouth drops open in Suprise.

"I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"How about we say, 'I love you' instead and be grateful everyone involved is uninjured."

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diejager · 10 months

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I must politely ask you to hand over more of that Brahms!König

And I politely acquiesce :D More What if Brahms! König

König

That’s what he told you to call him. A name, a moniker per se, he took to hide his given one. A title - King - to whom he hid his identity under as he hid his face under porcelain, a beautiful creation of smooth material and well-done paint. The immaculately made mask that darkened his eyes, the curve of his cheeks and the perkiness of his lips that mimicked a human face.

König’s frame took all the space around you, his broad shoulders were invading and heaving breathes muffled by his mask, loud and burdened by his chase. He pushed you against the wall, a thick thigh kicked between your legs, stopping you from moving; from escaping; from running. His hands grasped your shoulders, pulling you towards him and slamming you back into the hard wall a few times, your struggling somewhat annoyed him. He needed you soft and pliant, easy to move and bend to his will.

Your vision shook, brain rattled by his agressive manner of subduing you. A low whine ripped from your throat as your body settled with its motion, dazed and exhausted from his chase. He was the predator and you were the prey; a mouse running from the prowling feline. He clung to you, seemingly basking in the warmth your body exhumed even if he ran high, skin burning at the slight touch of you naked skin. He bent over you, figure bathing you in his shadow as he stared at you, his cold, green irises freezing you in place - demanding to a fault.

His leaned closer, face mere inches from you. Your breaths mixed, he could smell the mint in your breath as you panted below him, body ramrod between his chest and the wall. His head sat atop your shoulder, his mask pressing against your cheek as he smelled you in puffs of muted breaths. His mask was cold, a steak contrast to his burning skin, hard and sweaty; porcelain was cool and fragile, not sturdy and warm like him.

König was demanding, garnering all your attention to his lumbering size curled over you, his gasps and his wandering hands. They held you, kept you unmoving to his wild, incoherent mumbles for something, a mix of broken English and German. Haws he German? Or from a German speaking nation like Austria and Switzerland?

Schatz

Engel

Liebchen

Maus

Vögelchen

All words you heard from him, muffled from his rumbling and panting, but clear and sharp enough to hear. They were laced with adoration, sweet, obsessive love that dripped from his tongue every time he called you something. It was near sickening how easy they left him, sliding from his lips like a waterfall of affection. For such a big, burly man, he loved like a puppy, giving his affection left and right, chest pressed against you, his face nuzzling into your neck, his hands cradling your body and his hip grinding into yours.

“Talk to me, Maus,” he croaked, voice raspy with emotions, dark, carnal emotions from the pit of his navel. “Tell me yes, Maus. Tell me, ja?”

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sserpente · 1 year

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A/N: Requests from anon and @slaveforloki. You might wanna take a shower after this one. If you noticed the font in the image being different… I forgot I don’t have Photoshop on my computer in Austria anymore I didn’t take my laptop with me so I had to do it with an online editor, ugh! Try to ignore it! :D RC is not a virgin in this Imagine as originally requested, at least it’s not mentioned but I have another Christmassy one planned with that, so I hope this one will be fun regardless, I didn’t wanna post two so similar ones back to back! Could I resist adding this new gif? No, absolutely not. I’m so hyped for Season 2.

Words: 2826 Warnings: forced marriage, smut

Additonal NSFW warnings: CMNF, orgasm denial, orgasm control, arguably a little bit of dub-con, definitely angry sex

You’d do it, officially. You would hate Christmas for the rest of your life. Loki had made sure of that. With a deep sigh, you straightened your green dress—one of the maids had chosen it for you because it was Loki’s colour—and lifted your chin. You refused to let him see how much he had hurt you. How he had ruined your life, shattered it to pieces by claiming you as a bride, forcing you to become his wife all because he was now king of Asgard.

You weren’t even royalty—not wholly, anyways. Your father was the second-born prince of the king of Alfheim but your mother had been a commoner. Human. You had no royal duties, no obligation to rule a kingdom one day. You had lived a life in freedom—up until Loki had claimed you like a prized possession.

You remembered the dark prince of Asgard. The second-born mischievous God of Chaos had been mysterious and charming the first time you had met him at a ball a few years back. But that was before the rumours about him attempting to subjugate Midgard had the branches of Yggdrasil sway with the quick footsteps of Ratatöskr.

The wedding had been yesterday—on Christmas Eve. Now officially, Alfheim did not celebrate the Christian holiday, regardless of its stolen aspects from ancient paganism. But you had visited Midgard often enough yourself to grow to love the holiday, not to mention how much your mother had adored it before she passed. You’d been looking forward to decorating and buying Christmas gifts for your loved ones and now here you were: stuck in King Loki’s chambers after a forced but oddly passionate kiss after the ceremony. A few weeks had passed since then and needless to say you had not consummated the marriage just yet.

You had been fuming already, you would have torn him to pieces if he had dared put a hand on you… and… you were pretty sure he was very well aware of that. And while he was the most dominant man that had ever stepped into your life, he respected that. For now. You hated the part of yourself that longed for him to rip your clothes off your body, throw you on the bed and fuck you until you forgot everything but his name.

If Loki was one thing beside an arrogant and power-hungry king, he was handsome. You had noticed it at the ball already. Back then, you would have wished for him to sweep you off your feet. Now, however, your anger suffocated every other feeling you could have possibly harboured for him. Desiring him physically made that wrath even stronger. You would never admit that to him though.

As if your thinking about him had summoned him, Loki barged into his chambers only mere moments later. His quick and confident steps had you tense up, even more so when his stunning blue gaze met yours.

“So you haven’t forgotten about your waiting wife then.” Loki rolled his eyes at you.

“You are not a prisoner in my chambers. You are free to roam the palace and the realm—as long as a guard accompanies you.”

“I had no need for a guard before I was married to you.”

“Consider it an additional perk.”

“Right,” you spat. “And what exactly are the other perks of you asking me for my hand in marriage and not accepting a no?”

For just the fraction of a second, Loki was surrounded by a green shimmering light. The next time you blinked, he had swapped his regal attire for some more comfortable clothes.

“It will reinforce the alliance between Alfheim and Asgard. The kingdom of Alfheim is already very suspicious of me,” he explained as if it was the most logical thing in the nine realms.

“For good reason, Loki.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me. You don’t know anything about what happened. So watch your tongue.”

Fuming, you clenched your fists. “Why me then? Why not any of my half-sisters?”

“Most of them have been promised to others already. One of them to a king in Niflheim, the other to the current princess of Svartalfheim, now that Malekith is dead. Besides, you are part-human. That makes you a valuable pawn to assure my peaceful intentions.”

“Peaceful? Your intentions are anything but peaceful.”

“Are they not?” He tilted his head, making your lower regions clench. Then, he gave you a just the tiniest hint of a smirk. “I do not recall you being present at your council meeting earlier, dear. I very much doubt you get to have a say about any of my intentions.”

“You forced me to marry you!”

“Your father was thrilled and all too eager to send you to Asgard, to me.” Loki looked you dead in the eye, a mocking tone playing in his smooth voice. “Do you truly believe I wish to be married to a bastard daughter of a king? A woman who is half human? You should consider yourself lucky to be by my side rather than resent me for it.”

“Lucky? Lucky?” you screeched. “You ruined my life! You came to Alfheim and drowned everything in chaos! I was free before you claimed me like an object!”

“Please… freedom is life’s great lie,” Loki responded sharply.

“And on Christmas of all days! You decided to wed on Christmas! You have no idea how much this holiday meant to my mother and now you’ve spoiled it, you selfish and arrogant prick!”

“Watch your tone with me!”

“I will not! You made me marry you, now you’re going to deal with what you claimed!”

Loki’s blue eyes widened. It was barely noticeable but it didn’t escape you regardless.

“Where does that new-found passion for hostility come from? You have been awfully quiet over the last few weeks, pet.”

Pet. “I’m not your fucking pet. Heavens, you are so irritating!”

“Well, so are you! A spoiled child who knows nothing of love and life!”

“Me? I’m the spoiled child? My mother was human and I lived a very humble life before you tossed me into his palace. You were the one born with a silver spoon in your mouth!”

“Do not speak of things you do not understand.”

“Stop patronising me!” You were both screaming at this point. You couldn’t really care less about what the servants outside of Loki’s chambers must have been thinking. They could know you were not here voluntarily.

Loki strutted towards you, a menacing and threatening expression on his handsome face. You pressed your thighs together, standing your ground on your “shared” bed. You did not move away an inch. Not until he came to a halt right before you, so much so you had to look up to meet his stare.

“You need to stop talking,” he breathed quietly. Too quiet. “Ungrateful brat…” He muttered under his breath. But he was just loud enough for you to hear him. It almost seemed like he was trying to hold back. From what, you were unsure. Lashing out? Throwing you out? Getting physical? You swallowed thickly, your mind jumping to an image where Loki threw you over his knees, grabbed a fistful of your dress to reveal your bare bottom and spanked you for your mouth. It infuriated you even more.

“I fucking hate you!” you screamed at him, sitting up so you came to kneel on the bed. One second passed in which Loki narrowed his eyes at you… in the next… his lips were on yours.

Fire rippled through you, hot flushes blackening your vision. Your eyes fell shut, the sensation of his mouth moving against yours stealing away your ability to think straight. As if your body turned against you, your arms came up to wrap around his neck, allowing him to take a hold of your hips. Possessively, he pulled you flush against his body, his muscles rubbing against your chest hardening your nipples.

“I wish I could hate you, Earth girl” he muttered when he pulled away, stroking your hot cheek with his thumb. Your lips parted. And then you finally realised. He desired you. He’d always desired you and the fact that he did… it made him furious. You drove each other mad—and yet together you could be unstoppable.

Breathing heavily, you refused to respond to his confession and instead buried your fingers in his hair to kiss him again. Fuck it all for now. Fuck him. Right now, preferably. Even angrier at him now for making you so flustered for him, you growled, feral like a kitten when he pushed you away with a start. You landed on the mattress, bouncing up and down once before he was on top of you, his blue eyes filled with hunger.

Loki grabbed two fistfuls of your dress. You shrieked when he tore it straight off, exposing your naked body to his greedy gaze. Asgardians didn’t bother with underwear much and the maid had refused to let your wear your bra because it “didn’t go well with the dress”. Now, all you could think about was easy access.

A moan escaped your lips when he cupped your breasts in his hands, kneading them firmly and playing with your nipples until you arched your back for him. You threw your head back then, and he attacked your neck, suckling, biting, licking… Unable to form any functioning sentences, you breathed his name.

“Fucking arsehole…” His chuckle went right through you, tightening that delicious knot forming in your lower stomach and… you could practically feel yourself getting wet for him.

“I will make you beg for my cock, pet. You can try and hate me all you want but that delicious body of yours doesn’t lie. I can see it in your eyes. And I shall make it worth your while.”

Before you could muster both the courage and the smugness to counter his irritating arrogance, he kissed you again, soft hands travelling down to your hips to hook his fingers into the seam of your knickers. He ripped them clean off, making you curse.

“That was the last fucking pair I heard from Midgard!”

“You are my wife. This sad excuse of underwear is nothing compared to the lingerie I will have you wear from now on. Be glad it’s gone.”

“You don’t get to decide what I w—“ Another kiss, even more passionate than the last. His tongue slipped into your mouth, battling yours for dominance.

“Oh yes, I do. You are mine now. And you will feel like a goddess with what I will pick for you.” Attempting to shake your head failed miserably when his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed lightly. Your pussy clenched around nothing. Great. He’d discovered a new kink too, now. Arsehole.

The grunt that left your lips made him chuckle once more. Oh, he knew fully well what he was doing to you and how it made you fight your own body. But it was no use. Loki used his free hand to roll his trousers down his thighs, just enough to free his erect member. It sprung free with its tip leaking precum. Loki pushed his hips against you, cock sliding between your nether lips and brushing against your clit.

“Oh, fuck…” you whined, digging your fingernails into his clothed back until he snatched your wrists and pinned them down next to your head. He thrust forward again, teasing your clit and making you buck your hips.

“Oh, just fuck me already!”

Loki tilted his head, smirking down at you. “Now that is hardly how you speak to your husband who happens to rule the realm you reside in, now is it?”

“You’re an arsehole, Loki! I’m not begging!”

“You are not going to beg your husband?”

“No! Fuck off!”

“Fine. Then you are not coming.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You are not coming until I give you permission.”

“As if you could stop me.”

Loki raised an eyebrow and you swallowed. Challenge accepted, his expression appeared to say. And then, without any further forewarning, he plunged himself inside of you, making you moan loudly enough for his servants outside to hear. You could only imagine them blushing, except if he had charmed the room to contain any indecent noises.

He gave you no time to adjust to his length but instead began railing you as if he was going to starve to death if he didn’t. His grip around your wrists tightened, even more so when you wriggled beneath him, unable to decide between meeting his thrusts by bucking your hips and moving away because the stimulation was almost too much to bear.

It was then you felt it. The invisible force on your clit, teasing, kneading, massaging, playing you like an instrument. Loki was using his seidr to work you up, fast. And while you desperately wanted to stop your arousal from growing to not give him the satisfaction of being able to drive you straight to orgasm, to not have him control your pleasure, your body longed for more, longed for him.

It took him another minute, his rhythmic thrusts deliciously controlled, almost hitting your cervix, and you were on the verge of falling off that relaxing cliff your cunt was craving so bad.

And just like that… the stimulation stopped and Loki angled himself in a way that would keep you on the edge but not quite get you there.

“Are you fucking serious, you arrogant… ahh…” His own grunts only fuelled your arousal, his heavy breathing sounding like music in your ears.

“Beg me,” he demanded hoarsely.

“Fuck… you!”

Loki chuckled. He let go of your wrists for a moment only to grab your thighs and haul your legs over his shoulders so your bottom was slightly elevated. His next thrust was so deep you screamed with pleasure.

And then that delicious treatment on your clit continued, working you up once more. Higher and higher, closer and closer… and then it disappeared again, just before you could jump. Loki continued this sweet torture all the while he kept fucking you senseless.

“You have no idea how long I have been craving to claim that sweet quim of yours, to have you beneath me, screaming my name.”

“I hate you!” The exclamation was half-hearted. Both he and you heard it. Because you didn’t. You were crazy for this man ever since you had met him at that damned ball all those years back.

Loki chuckled in response. “Oh no, you don’t…”

You were unsure for long he kept playing with your body as if it were an instrument. Was it minutes? Hours? All you knew was that Loki kept his promise. He didn’t let you cum all the while he kept filling you up until his seed was leaking out of you, staining both the bed and your inner thighs. His stamina was incredible, your whole body had turned into jelly at this point. Weak and almost in trance, you fought for your release until you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“P-please… Loki… p-please let me cum. I… I can’t… it’s getting too much… please…” Swallowing your pride, you looked him deep in the eye, your anger almost doubling the more his mischievous grin grew.

Loki had lost his clothes by now. His naked chest was glistening with sweat, his raven hair sticking to his skin. He tilted his head, stilling inside of you for just a heartbeat.

“That is all I wished to hear, pet.”

You growled in response, moments before his seidr went back to work and he sped up his rhythm. Only this time… this time Loki didn’t stop until finally, you fell. Never before had you experienced such a strong climax. The build-up, the edging and the constant denial had turned you into a feisty animal. Screaming your heart out, you let the pleasure consume you, your orgasm electrifying you from the inside out. Again and again, you pulsed around him, demanding yet another release from Loki.

He came inside of you one last time, face buried in your neck and feasting on your sensitive skin. You whimpered when he bit your neck as if he wished to mark you and then, once your high had finally subsided, he collapsed on top of you and let go of your wrists. You kept them on the mattress none the less, too weakened to bring yourself to slap him for teasing you like that. If you did… he’d probably spank you there and then. Your poor pussy clenched yet again. Oh, fuck…

“So tell me… do you truly hate me?” he murmured smugly, his hot breath brushing against your ear.

“I’m still contemplating,” you shot back, closing your eyes. You guessed you could learn to tolerate him and give in to your feelings. But only if he fucked you like that again.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story! If you did, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me and my writing on Kofi!

I finally, OMG, released my first novel! You can find all info about it in the Linktree in my bio! <3

Now, time for some mulled wine!

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hetalia-club · 9 months

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Starting on Wednesday until the next Wednesday we will vote and let someone kick the others ass. No pay per view required (No before you ask we couldn't book the colosseum, Italy said no, but we got the octagon!) We should try and keep this as logical as possible but everyone does love an underdog. I’m tired of seeing these idiots kiss I want them to get their shit rocked from America all the way to Australia. Remember all this is not a favorite character competition these are 1 on 1 fist fights. Divided up into two divisions. Light weight and Heavy weight. That way we keep it fair and Latvia won’t get his head ripped clean off his shoulders by America. Remember no one is crying or quitting they all want the prize more than anything in the world they are all full strength no matter the opponent.

The poll will be released weekly with 2 rounds 1 round for the light and 1 for heavy. I included stats as well so even if you don't know the character well you can still play. I made up my own heights and weights for some characters because Hima does not know how tall/heavy people should be I swear he just said random numbers.

#Hetalia #hws austria #aph austria #hws china #aph china #yao wang #roderich edelstein #original #poll #the 2023 hetalia fight club

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maggie-004 · 10 months

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(Un-) Lucky coincidence - 3

Jenna Ortega x Fem reader

Summary: After helping Jenna Ortega, Y/N invites her to stay at her apartment when Jenna's hotel reservation is canceled. Jenna accepts the offer, and they bond over music and their shared vegetarian lifestyle while enjoying Chinese food and planning Jenna's stay in Austria for another 1 and a half weeks.

Words: 2155

“Oh, cool cool, I’m here with my car soo uhm do you need a ride?” I asked Jenna, trying to not freak out. “Uh yeah that would be great. Where do you even live, like do you have a house or-“, “What a house, you’re funny, no I have an apartment nearby. Houses here in Innsbruck are very expensive, if you wanna buy a house, that’s not the size of an shoe box you’ll have to pay at least 5 Million euro. Even to buy an apartment is really expensive. Mine costed around 500.000 euro.” I nearly cried out of laughing “Come on let’s go to my Car, and maybe close your mouth on the way there, Innsbruck is a very expensive city” I laughed at how shocked she was, it really is normal around here. “Yeah let’s go, sorry. I am really shocked right now your apartment is just a little less worth than our house in Coachella and my apartment in LA is way, WAY cheaper than yours” Jenna explained while we went to my car. “Oh really I thought America is more expensive than Austria.” I said while unlocking my car.

“apparently not, I really thought Austria would be very cheap, well I thought wrong. Oh is that your own car or is it your parents?” “No it’s my own, I love this car” I proudly said while getting in to my Ford mustang Mach-e. “Wow I thought you were a nursing student, by the way how old are you?” Jenna glanced at me while I connected my phone to the car. “I’m 19 (feel free to put in your age) how old are you?” I asked Jenna. “Woah how do you have an own apartment, a car like that and your job at the age of 19? Oh yeah I’m 20 but I’m turning 21 this year” she said and smiled at me. “Oh you’re not old yourself, you know for what you’ve reached so far. Well I started to study at 16, I skipped a few classes and I wanted to move out from my old home so I started to save money and I do make money besides school so yeah that’s pretty much it.” I just explained when we drove off, I played some music and I could see from a side eye that Jenna was enjoying it. “wow so you are the youngest in your class, at least I suppose? And how do you manage to make money, well enough money for all that while still going to school. I know that my sister, Mia she is 2 years older than me, is now nearly done with nursing school and she barley has time to work a part time job and make enough money for anything like this. Oh yeah before I forget to ask, where do you find those remixes we’re listening right now” She asked me and started to get into the music even more. “Oh she’s a nurse as well? That’s so cool, but it’s true. When you’re in nursing school you don’t have enough time to make some Money, except you are lucky enough, like me, to make your money doing something you love, for me it’s DJing. I have my YouTube channel and I have now nearly 5.5 Million subscribers, that’s where you can find those remixes by the way. That’s how I make my money. I’ve never shown my face though so I live a normal life. I collaborated with one of my best friends I met online her name is Antonia aka. RevedTV, I really got a lot of subs from her community. All in all I’m just lucky” I explained smiling because that really is just luck and it’s so cool to receive so much good karma. “Okay, wow yeah I don’t really know what to say here, I’m flabbergasted. Congrats on that and you got to tell me your artist name, I really want to listen to more of your remixes.” Jenna said, and to be honest that made me so proud of myself because everyone knows that Jenna is addicted to music and that she has a certain taste of music, I think she has a really good taste in music, but I got ripped out of because we were already pulling up to my garage.

“Thank you” I just realized that Jenna was talking to me earlier, I kind of zoned out, I still got to tell her about my ADHD otherwise she might thinks I’m rude. “Sorry for not talking to you sooner, I kind of zoned out, you know I have ADHD just wanted to clarify so I don’t come off rude. Sorry”. “Don’t be sorry, that’s ok you don’t seem rude, I know how it feels to zone out, happens way to often to me too” She just giggled at me. “Oh thank god you can relate to the zoning out, hey believe it or not some people don’t zone out at all. It really shocked me to learn about that” I explained living through the exact same feeling as I did when I first learned about that. “Yeah no way, you’re kidding right?” she asked me “Nope. I’m not kidding I swear”. “Wow second time you made me speechless today, just for your information, normally that doesn’t happen to me and certainly not twice”, “ Okay and what exactly does that mean?” I asked her while we got in the elevator I live on the 3rd and 4th. I jokingly started to tease her “Do I make you nervous … nahh just kidding” I laughed and I’m not sure but I think Jenna blushed a little but maybe it’s just my imagination. We arrived at third floor and I unlocked the door, holding it open for Jenna “Milady, after you” “Thank you”. “You can keep your shoes on or how ever you like, feel comfortable, do you want a little tour so you see how we Austrians live” I asked her. “Yeah sure I’d love to” she said while she took off her shoes. “ Okay first room to your right is my guests bath, next to it the guests room and a little storage room” “Mhm oh the furniture is soo cool” Jenna said. “Then you should wait until you see my room, anyways around that corner is my kitchen and the eating era, come on.” “Woah I definitely wasn’t expecting an all-black kitchen it’s so cool and so big. Y/N you have a really nice furnishing style, I love it here.” Jenna said. “Thank you so much yeah I really took my time because I want to feel at home here so no compromises with anyone, you won’t believe me how many people said ´oh no black kitchen… don’t do this… don’t do that- bla bla bla` but as already said no compromises. Okay come on we have another floor to look at” I just said. “Another one? Wow cool you really hyped me for your room.” “Okay then come on, soo here is my bathroom, I really needed that freestanding bathtub and again a lot of black elements I love it looks so fancy. Next to my bathroom I have my laundry room nothing special in here. But now my second favorite room, my studio. Here happens all my ´Musical magic´” Jenna looked stunned at me and I just had to laugh at her face and about myself, calling myself magical. “Well I guess we make it a third time that I don’t know what to say wow, this is all so cool, amazing is that your DJing controller?” Jenna asked me. “Yeah it is if you want I can show you a few things on it later” I suggested. “I’d love to, maybe you can teach me a little bit” she smiled like a little child when I nodded at her request. “Okay now come ooonnn I am so hyped to show you my room, I really love it so let’s gooooo.” “Oh my god you’re hyping me up so much don’t hype me anymore I don’t think I could that you know… emotionally” Jenna laughed.

“Well then we’ll make it short and painless. Here take a look.” I said with the biggest grin on my face, because I know we can add another speechless Jenna moment to our list. My room is the biggest of all my rooms, it has 2 black Walls on which my Californian King sized Bed is, also it’s slightly higher than everything else because it’s build on this platform thing, where I have two huge drawers, I know I don’t need bed this big alone but I really fell in love with it, I think its needless to say that I wouldn’t spent so much money on a bed I don’t need, but I got it as a gift from one of my advertising partners. I also have a lot of plants and little decoration things, Pictures and a few fan gifts, a big ass aquarium, way too big tv, but again it was a gift, my beloved Book shelf, next to it a tiny two person couch and a desk for schoolwork and editing. But now my favorite part, my walk-in closet. “So Jenna what do you think” I grinned. “Wow this room is amazing, how long did you spent to make it look like that, and that bed oh my god can I sit on it, it looks sooo comfortable” Jenna said. “Yea you can also lay in it if you want, it was a gift from my advertising partners. I think I’ve spent one and a half months on this room, but only because I didn’t accept any help in this room, I really wanted it like I imagined. So I build that platform for my bed myself and lowered the ceiling for the LED’s.” I explained “How’s the bed?” I laughed at how tiny Jenna looked in it. “It’s amazing but I am a little scared that I’ll get lost in it.” We both started to laugh like crazy. My stomach started to hurt out of laughter I threw myself on my bed next to Jenna and tried to calm down. Needless to say we pushed each other even more and only after 10 minutes we started to calm down. “Uhg now my stomach hurts, Jenna do you still want to drink a coffee” I asked her still giggling. “Yeah sure, can you help me up” “sure her you go, we gotta go downstairs for coffee, or are you hungry?” I asked Jenna now. “Well yeah are you?” she asked. “I am so hungry right now, do you wanna order something or should I cook?”, “Uh we can order something and I pay for it you know as a thank you” Jenna suggested. “Oh Jenna you really don’t have to that’s fine you’re my guest so please let me- “ Jenna interrupted me “Yeah and you helped me when no one did so please I insist.” “Okay thank you” I gave up I didn’t stood a chance. “What should we order?” I asked Jenna. “Well I’m currently chancing my diet for Romania so something vegetarian, do you like Chinese?”, “Oh I love Chinese food and btw I’m vegetarian too, had to change from vegan to vegetarian because of the nutritious, kind of sucks” I explained to Jenna whom nodded at what I was saying. “oh my god same, I was so devastated when I found out I had to change that.” We both ordered some spring rolls and those lobster chips the white ones. “So should we look for places you could stay, or do you maybe wanna stay here, I mean only if you want to and feel safe and everything” I offered her, not really knowing what she’d say and hoping to not scare her away. We sat in my 2nd floor and before she could answer the doorbell rang. So I had to run down and get the food. “Hey Jenna do you wanna eat in the living room or down here?” I yelled up. “ Uhm however you want” she yelled back. So I got everything we need form the kitchen and got back up. “ I think it’s more comfortable if we stay here. Well about my offer-“ Jenn a cut right in “Uhm I’d love to but only if you’re really fine with that.” Oh my god, I think my heart is about to stop. Jenna really is going to stay at my place. “Yeah totally I can set up the guest room, you can stay as long as you want. I really mean it. How long are you staying in Austria anyways?” I asked her. “for another 1 and a half weeks, we are going to start promoting Wednesday, so the rest of the Wednesday cast comes here tomorrow, and thank you for everything”

A/N: Wow these are getting longer, fyi English is not my first language. Still hope you like it :)

#jenna ortega x reader #actors #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #the fallout #wednesday

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indristian · 1 year

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Weirdly specific König Headcanons part 5

By an austrian for an austrian character

After the Trump speech, where he claimed that our trees were explosive König wouldn't shut up about the warlike conditions he had to endure when playing in our forest cities.

In May 2019, after the Ibiza affair, there was a solid week, where he would almost exclusively listen to Ibiza-related partysongs.

He hates being carried, he's normally the one carrying people. And most of the time when he carries people it's the fireman's carry.

He celebrates Christmas on the 24. of december in the evening. This and the food blessing for easter are the only times a year he'll go to church without being forced by his family, mostly bc he gets food afterwards.

His father would often wake him to help with the farm. If he was hungover and refused he'd get told "Wer saufen kann, kann am nächsten Tag auch arbeiten" (very loosely translated "Those that have the energy to go out and drink, have the energy to go work on the next day"). He sometimes uses the phrase just to get on his teammates nerves.

Every time someone complains about their job within his earshot he'll say "Hättest halt was g'scheites g'lernt" (meaning "Should've trained for a better job then"). When pointed out that they have the same "shit" job he just sighs and says "Yeah, takes one to know one."

Prefers colder temperatures over warmer ones bc "It's easier to put on clothes to keep warm than take them off to keep cool, especially when you're down to your underwear already"

People, for some reason, just love to tell him all the gossip and he loves it. Too bad he has no idea who half of the people he has gossip on are/forgets about the names involved immediately

Inspired by my best friend: If you go on a hike with him, he'll be standing there at the top of the mountain with his hands on his hips, not a drop of sweat on his face and he'll say "Yeah, that was a tough hike" while you're on the ground next to him fighting for for your life

If he's bored he'll go on r/austria to see if there's any "drama" like the "I ripped my 1000€ jacket on somebody's fence, can I sue them?" or the "Someone vomited in the staircase in front of my flat, do I have to clean it?" posts and the posts that made fun of them

He knows how to use a scythe (for mowing grass things, maybe also slicing up people, but mostly just mowing grass). First time his team sees him with one they take a pic, add the text "bad soldiers get reaped by the big german grim reaper" and post it on the community fridge. Within a day the german is angrily scribbled out and austrian added instead.

And not really a headcanon more like something i overheard while one of my friends played warzone: when you play the game in german and König heals you he says "Put some spit on it" (if I remember correctly)

I'm surprised I came up with so many headcanons, tho I'm kinda running out of steam.

In other news I made a playlist of songs I think would get stuck in his head/he would listen to. The playlist is a weird genre mix, but I swear I can can think of a reason for each song to be in it. I may add some new songs over time.

And I'm so happy spotify doesn't record what I'm listening to rn bc I don't want Austropop to be in my top 5 genres for the next wrapped.

Part one, two, three, four and six

#könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #call of duty warzone #cod modern warfare #cod warzone #cod warzone 2.0

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sost-ereo · 2 days

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SpAus week day 2!!! (Totally not late)

“But none of those gems shine brighter than your eyes” @spaus-week

Lately I’ve had a big thing for spaus angst, and Spain suffered last time so why not turn the tables lols

You can tell dialogue is not my strong suit that’s why I hardly write it but enjoy 🙏

!!CW: Austria misses being wanted (romantically, but also sexually) - still no NSFW dw! He’s just a bit lonely. Again, this isn’t a healthy depiction of their relationship, but I like the concept of nations in general having complex relationships due to arranged marriages, wars, impossible loves, immortality, etc.

Anyways!

‘In my dreams’

You are strong and proud and cruel and not afraid to shed blood. Oftentimes I find the conviction in your eyes frightening, when you return home to me, to my arms, and tell me all about your conquests, and the spoils you take for yourself, your men, and for me. Then you shower me with shiny gifts from foreign lands; lands I own, yet have never once stepped foot in. Lands you once took by force, by ripping them from the cold, dead hands of those who came before.

“I do it all for Him, and for you,” you will say, and I will try to seek solace by fooling myself into believing you have noble intentions, for I become fearful of you without that mantra repeating in my head. You are a holy man, doing His sacred bidding. You are a holy man, with Him at the forefront of your mind on every expedition. You are a holy man, one who would cause no unnecessary harm to those who oppose our great empire. And when you return, I welcome you home, because, in my dreams, you are still kind. In my dreams, you return to me and sob in my arms and mourn the recusant lives you condemned to eternal suffering. In my dreams, you don’t take, you ask. And in my dreams, you never find anyone to satiate you for the years at a time in which you leave me. Instead, you return to me, desperate for my touch, my body…

Yet only in the dead of night, when the world turns a blind eye, relinquishing to sleep, do I accept that these are falsehood I create. In the end, it is I who is sobbing, alone in our large, empty bed. And it is I who pleads, desperate for you, when you return. The silk sheets and fine wines aren not enough to fill the gaping void left by your every departure. And when you return, I know it will be brief. I know your presence will only bring forth more suffering in my soul, for you love the violence of war more than you ever loved me. But, then again, this was always how it would end.

I recall the day we were wed. Your boyish face had looked so kind back then, and it had eased my nerves about the matrimony. The unions of our two nations strengthened my realm and your kingdom, just as the contract intended. Perhaps I was foolish to think love could blossom from said contract, although at first I believed it true. Your hands were still soft back then, a symbol of your innocence, now disrupted by rough callouses and scars. Your green eyes had been large, full of curiosity and life, yet now all they hold is your lust for power, which surpasses even my own.

I step out of bed, and once more I am the only lonesome creature awake at such an hour. In the darkness, I leave behind the empty bed, and I am driven by instinct to the balcony. I gaze upon the ocean, and count the ships in the harbour, wishing one of them were yours. The moonlight ripples on the surface of the black waters, and I glance down at the band of gold around my finger. It is plain, no intricate craftsmanship whatsoever. This is a contract, and this hastily-made band of gold is nothing but a seal.

Still, I do not lack more grandiose jewellery, you bring chests full of silver, gold, exotic creatures and gemstones. They have stopped bringing me the same rush they once did, all I want is you.

I can’t bring myself to wear the jewels you bring, for they only serve as a reminder that you’re not here. That you have a greater purpose in life. That you can’t be with me now, in the dead of night, looking down at me with that passion I see whenever it is time for you to leave again. I want that passion directed at me. I want to see nothing but emerald green while I revel in your touch. I want you to want me more than anything, and your spoils don’t suffice… none of those gems shine brighter than your eyes.

But you’re nowhere near, and I have no idea when you will return to me. All I can do is seethe as I imagine who may be keeping you company tonight, while I remain wanton and chaste.

In my dreams, you are mine, fully.

#hetalia #hws spain #hws austria #spaus #spausweek #austria is a stay at home husband except spain leaves for his new world conquests for years at a time #hes lonely #angst #drabble

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blorbocedes · 11 months

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In a Regency AU George would be that one member of the group whose still reliant on his uncle/guardian/accountants for his allowance. Idk Max, Charles, Lando all got given the keys to their fortune at an early age because of tragic death via influenza and wealthy dead aunts etc and George still has to write grovelling notes to Toto asking for an extra £100 so he can go to the races with the others and not be a complete pauper.

He tells himself its okay because he is going to inherit so much money so soon... he'll get everything Toto has and everyone knows Lewis won't have children either and so George can be his heir too.

Besides why would he be jealous of his friends, Charles' money is tied up in a crumbling 12th century gothic castle, and Lando has to deal with an annoying american accountant (Zak) and has money from trade + he has to let his 12 year old cousin Oscar live with him etc, and Max - George is sure Max isn't managing his money properly (and probably cheats at cards) unlike how George would manage his money if he were allowed to look after it himself.....

Besides surely he'll get his independence any day now....and he doesn't mind that he has to miss half the fun going to Austria to learn about business whilst the rest are gadding about in London. Some people (George) are made to have responsibility/power/money and others (Max/Lando/Charles) are not. So even if he doesn't have as much as his friends yet he's sure he will get it...right...

What do you mean Toto might have an 5 day old illegitimate italian son called Kimi Antonelli....or Lewis - who is only 38! as much as George likes to forget that and not planning on passing away anytime soon - might decide to a) spend all his money on fashion/philanthropy/musical pursuits and then b) leave his remaining money to the regency equivalent of Battersea Dogs home in honour of Roscoe.

oh my goodness 😭😭😭 this is extremely delightful... something very cousin Greg of George here..... also like the lore of the other characters, charles and his crumbling gothic castle, lando doing business with the annoying american ripping him off!!! 12 year old oscar 😭 max gambling addiction ⁉️

gay lewis canon 🥹 donating his fortune to a dog foundation in roscoe's name instead of cousin george 😭😭

KIMI ANTONELLI AGAJFJDK not the Mercedes baby Italian bastard son.....

the idea of george writing increasingly grovelling letters to toto for money is very funny to me... he's our plucky regency era protagonist halfway into the book you realise wow he kinda sucks and is just envious/judgmental of everyone...... i love it thank u,

Would love to know more thoughts if you have any!

#regency au george #f1 rpf #sometimes my anons drop something so delightful in my inbox I'm 🥹☺️☺️☺️#blorbocedes ask

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headingalaxys-spicy · 2 years

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Here is a cute ask ( or not as cute ). Platonic yandere nekotalia Japan, France, America, Russia, and Austria with their owner darling.

Hahah oh look its my 3am thoughts being post at 5:30am

🇺🇸America 🇺🇸 : He will sing to you the song of his people whn you first arrive home. He will rub against your leg so you know that is present and not apposes to being shown in belly rubs and head scratches. He does not leave your side the movement you enter your home. He’ll hiss if he smells another cat on you or even a dog. He's very protective of you as his pet owner because he cares. I hope you don’t have too many clothes you are fond of because he will rip to shreds the offending pieces of clothing that have another animal scent on them.

🇦🇹 Austria 🇦🇹 :This is a demanding and prissy cat. He steps on your face at 3 am begging you to feed him and his oh-so-empty belly.

“Meeeeeeeoooooow! Meeeeoooooooow Meoooooow!” Translation “ I demand wet food right now it’s best that I get it so that I can maintain my figure and not be so emaciated. You must feed me now you lovely but lazy human.”

For some reason, this time of night is also strangely affectionate. It’s like moon beans hit him and he’s a whole new and more loving cat towards you. So he will snuggle next to you while you are sleeping soundly. His purrs can become so loud that they have the capability to wake your from your peaceful slumber. He will also either run away from new people or try to scratch them.

🇫🇷 France 🇫🇷 : Another demanding cat that needs your constant attention. He will need belly rubs like every 15 minutes and he will have aggressively louder meows if you don’t give him the attention that he requires of you at that exact moment. He’s also one of those cats that climb on your clothes in order to get you to pay attention to him. You oblige him most of the time. You also gave your cat a major ego boost when you bought him a lavender cape that had golden accents on it so that he looked like a royal cat of sorts for Tik Tok.

France cat now uses that as a status symbol to supersede anything that you're working on while you’re at home.

🇯🇵 Japan 🇯🇵 :This cat watches you silently like a ninja cat. Glowing black orbes that you’ve seen at 4:12 am in the morning just staring at your previously sleeping form. He kinda looks like a demon cat with the minimal light that is coming into your room from the street lights. Or even a paralysis demon. He will lay on your lap for a week if you give him tuna. If you come home reeking of a foreign cat that he does not recognize then he will deprive you of affection and hide from you. And that cat is good at it. It takes a solid hour normally to find where he’s hidden.

🇷🇺 Russia 🇷🇺 :When you return home for the day he will always habitually be in the same spot waiting for you to return home. He purrs against your leg wanting a ‘hello’ head scratch. He will follow you into every room you go to. He hops onto your computer keyboard while your working to demand attention and won’t relent unless you allow him to rest on your lap while you work. He sometimes likes to fluff his tail in your face. He kneads the blankets on your couch when he sees you preparing to get ready to relax. He just wants to be close and comfortable with his loving owner.

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diorleclerc · 2 years

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Can you imagine how Charles would be when he sees the lingerie you have underneath for him after you surprise him in Austria?? I feel like he would like it more if it was red and he would rip to shreds when he sees it on you

part two to this actress!reader drabble bc u guys seem to love this pairing as much as i do

as soon as you walk into his hotel room, he starts shedding his clothes

kicking his shoes off by the door, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans

“someone’s eager,” you giggle when he breaks the kiss to pull his shirt off

“i’m in the mood to celebrate with my favorite girl.”

he tosses his shirt to the ground before lifting the hem of yours, pulling it over your body

“please tell me you’re wearing the matching panties,” he says when he sees your tits covered with the red lace bra

“why don’t you find out?” you smirk

his hands quickly move to your pants, tugging them down your legs and revealing the matching red thong

if the set was any other color, he would’ve ripped it off by now

but he’s obsessed with how good you look in red so he just pulls your panties to the side and tucks the cups of the bra under your tits, keeping the entire set on your body while he fucks you

“so fucking gorgeous.”

“i love seeing you in red.”

but after awhile, the panties start getting in his way so he tears them right off

you don’t even realize because he’s fucking you so good

the only thing on your mind is how good his cock feels stretching you out

you only realize after he pulls out of you and you look down to see that they’re gone

“please tell me you didn’t rip another pair…”

“oops.”

#cl #actress!reader #diorleclerc drabbles

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batmanschmatman · 1 year

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Joe Liebgott - Marbled Polecat

Joe is another unusual one in the Easy gang, as he’s perhaps the least motivated by social bonds of most of the main cast. Historically, Joe went home, never willingly spoke to anyone from Easy again, and also ignored his actual family for about a year before finally moving back closer to home. Obviously none of that comes up in the show, but I think we get hints of that with the fictionalized Joe Liebgott too. He’s part of the group and gets along with most of the guys, but he’s got a meaner sense of humor than most and is more actively willing to pick a fight or assert himself. Not because he wants to be top dog, mind you, but because he wants the guys to know he’s not to be fucked with, even if he’s sort of skinny, short, and baby faced.

Most mustelid souls are pretty solitary folks. They aren’t necessarily energized by or in need of the company of others, and are perfectly happy to be on their own, doing their own thing. Again, Joe gets along fine with most of the guys, but he’s not especially tight with anyone the way we see folks like Skip/Malark, Babe/Bill, Dick/Nix/Harry, etc. His closest friends we see on screen are Chuck, who he doesn’t actually have many scenes with, Babe post Foy, and Web, who he absolutely has a love/hate relationship with, and he wouldn’t exactly be heartbroken to never talk to any of them again. It’s not that he dislikes them, it’s just he’s the sort of person who can let things go and move on with his life pretty easily.

Joe does have some softer qualities, like when he’s tending to Tipper or Tab in Carentan. He does care about people and isn’t a completely heartless bastard by any means, but his self protectiveness ends up drowning out this side of him more often than not. He can be gentle and kind, but in the long run, it takes a lot for him to really put his own bullshit aside to be really loyal, open and trusting.

A marbled polecat is particularly competitive and aggressive. Despite their small size, they’re not afraid to assert themselves and make it clear that other, bigger animals should just keep walking by. They’re fierce little hunters that kill their prey quickly and efficiently. They’re also pretty stubborn. Once you’ve crossed a marbled polecat soul, you’ve got to put a lot of work in to earn back their trust or respect. They’re not shy about sharing their thoughts, opinions, or criticisms, and are generally pretty my way or the highway. He tends to hit harder than he needs to in a verbal fight to make it clear he shouldn’t be fucked with, see: the scuffle with Bill or ripping into Web in Austria.

Joe’s daemon is named Gerda, and she enjoys nipping at other daemons for fun and to be an asshole. You can usually find her wrapped around his neck like a scarf when it’s cold, or jumping on very straight legs hissing and spitting at people who bother her.

( HBO War Daemon AU Masterlist )

#hbowar #hbo war #band of brothers #joe liebgott #daemon au

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 9 months

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Jonah - a Magnus Archives fic

An AU Somewhere Else - part of the Magnus Monsterverse series.

Spoilers for the whole podcast.

He’d spent decades floating, chanting the terrors of the terrorized in iambic meter, a repeated buh-DAH pulsing like a literal beating heart, and somehow I knew that the Eye didn’t do that on purpose, but that was Jonah’s wish.

Because he was a dramatic, overclocked asshole who had to make everything a show.

The desire to just… fall upon this floating, ruined, filthy man and tear him to pieces, to bite into him and rip into him and leave him in bloodied screaming shreds, scared me very badly.

AO3

------------

The Alps was about as vague a location as it was possible to get.

The mountains stretched over eight countries and nearly 1,200 kilometers. A massive orobiome covering 200 habitats, nearly 5,000 combined species of plants, birds, flowers, and animals, it had rivers and valleys, glaciers and peaks, and the only reason I knew we were in Austria was because I… knew.

We were deep in the mountains themselves, hidden in stone, gently swathed in bedrock. She’d made the place somehow… cozy? No plants or anything, but there were beanbag chairs and colorful throws. I caught scents of baked cookies, and vintage jazz piped from somewhere down the hall.

She walked at speed, having opened the portal right at the start of this bizarre, white structure in the middle of a mountain, and I guessed she might want to show it off.

I had to jog to follow her.

“Sorry to rush you,” Manuela said, waving her hand vaguely in the direction of a fifty-year-old poster with an animated, misshapen horse and human girl galloping along a rainbow. “But these things swing into position rarely enough as it is.”

“I’d love a little more explanation.”

She sighed, taking a right—and suddenly we were away from any pretense of cozy. Here were the blinding whites, the sterile smells, various doors with stenciled numbers on them and tiny windows, all manner of little keypads with glowing buttons. “So… think of it like a… a baby’s cot mobile? Sort of?”

“Worlds dangling on strings to entertain the still-developing?” I drawled.

“Right, lousy example,” she said, and took a left.

At last, we encountered security. She used a palm print, an eye-scan, and a keycard for each successive door, and I couldn’t help but notice that she tapped something on a keypad after each one, as well (telling the system I was friendly, at least for this individual trip, the Eye informed me).

This hall felt… weird. Hot? Not hot. Radiation? I knew. “Why are we being bombarded with actual galactic cosmic rays?”

“We’re both immune to them,” says Manuela.

“Are you sure?” I say, my voice cracking.

“Completely. And it’s happening because… well, come and see.”

The weight of the mountain atop us was beginning to frighten me. I could feel it, approximately 21,4285,714.2857 stone above and around us, and—

Approximately? Very funny, Eye. “Do… do you bring everyone through here?” I said.

“No, most of them couldn’t handle the radiation very well,” she said. “But it’s nice to be able to show someone.”

“I will need to do something with my clothes before returning to Martin,” I said firmly.

“Oh, he’d be fine.”

“He… he would?” Why didn’t I know that?

“He’s immune to this, too, so yes.”

“How?”

“Later, all right? We’re in a rush.” She turned one last time, led me through one last door, and we were basically on the bridge of the Enterprise. (I was proud of myself for making that connection.)

Three levels, sort of stadium style. Chairs, bolted to the floor, each before a currently unoccupied control panel, lights blinking. The front wall was one enormous metal panel, which I knew slid down to reveal… “What is that?” I whispered.

Manuela smiled. “Welcome to reality.” And with all due grandeur, the metal panel moved.

The air sucked out of the room. I didn’t need to breathe; and right now, neither did she—she’d manifested some kind of other atmosphere around herself and around me in a bubble, a weird cut-out glimpse of blue sky and butterflies and green grass, and I stared at her before gawking at the reality she dared to show me.

It was like an orrery, but this was no model. No wires. No strings. Only worlds.

Worlds within worlds, overlapping each other. Doubled, tripled, sometimes halved, smoothly sweeping by in an orbit so huge I struggled to comprehend it, if “orbit” was even the word. Each world was not alone; each one mimicked itself, mirrored, twisting that reflection into variations until it was impossible to tell which was original and which was not.

(The Eye knew. The Eye could delineate them for me, and I suddenly saw which worlds were ended, which worlds were not, which worlds had been ruined by one of the Fears, which worlds had—)

“There’s your Martin’s,” said Maneula, and I looked.

Indeed. A quiet, mist-wreathed world, gray; supernaturally so, because even as it was, it should have reflected blue. It was empty. Looking at it made my stomach ache, as if I hadn’t eaten in days. Then it swept past and was gone.

“How many are there?” I blurted.

“Hundreds,” said Manuela. “But more to the point, they’re either not all ready for rescue, or the avatar in question died, or their cycle—as I call it—doesn’t come into range of my abilities very often.”

“And… this Jonah…” My stomach ached for another reason.

“He’s ready.”

I shook. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking. “I’m… not sure I…”

Manuela sighed. “Look. I’ll be square with you, okay? We have ninety seconds until his world swings into my reach, and yes, I’m going to grab him.”

My teeth chattered. I didn’t give them permission to do that. (How the hell do eyeballs chatter, anyway?)

“This was originally Leitner’s idea,” she said, which was not surprising. “He wants us all to get along, and from what Martin told us of your particular tale, this one… is a hurdle.”

“You don’t say.” I couldn’t help how I sounded, so dry, so dismissive, so mean.

She didn’t take it personally. “This isn’t your Jonah. This Jonah is practically a child. He was twenty-three years old when he became a full avatar of the Eye, and twenty-nine when he ended the world.”

Younger than I’d been.

I can’t… process that. “How did it happen? How did all of these happen? They’re supposed to be able to bring in all the Fears, have all the marks. So how did it happen?”

She looked so surprised. “What?”

“What do you mean, what? You heard me! How, statistically, could all of them have the same—”

“Here he comes,” she interrupted. “I need you, Jon. We have to do this together.”

I did not have words for how little I wanted this. “Manuela!”

A world swung into view. So much closer than the others, filling the screen and filling my—

Everything

The whole world, WATCHED

Oh… oh, the Eye liked this one, yes It did (though not as much as me), and was so disappointed it had ended so soon.

It fed on him there. Fed through him, forcing him to know all the terrible things that ever were and to re-live them for Its happiness, because It loved his screams and his tears and his torment and

I…

This was not what had happened to me.

“Steady,” said Manuela. “Steady.”

I didn’t want to see.

I had to see.

She opened.

Herself, her entire being like a mouth, split down the middle.

Inside her were stars, eternal and unending.

I gasped, saw to the end of everything, knew what she contained inside herself even though she did not, and she

reached

Through.

The man who floated from his dead world was and was not the one I had known, and the eagerness of the Eye for us to get along almost hurt my heart, or whatever giant eyeball stood in for it.

He was… in rags, in clothes that barely looked like anything now, but I caught a memory of what it had been—a high waist and puffed chest, an almost feminine silhouette by modern standards, fluttery fullness at the sleeve caps that guaranteed eye-catching movement with every gesticulation. The tailcoat, waistcoat, and long trousers had cut him a fine figure, classy and contemporary for his time.

And then he’d ended the world, and clothes ceased to matter.

Because he was a dramatic, overclocked asshole who had to make everything a show.

The desire to just… fall upon this floating, ruined, filthy man and tear him to pieces, to bite into him and rip into him and leave him in bloodied screaming shreds, scared me very badly.

I hated him. I hated him. I would have killed him in my world if we’d made it to the Panopticon together. I would have done what I did in Martin’s timeline. I would have stabbed him until he died.

(And that was… frightening, because now it made me question how many other versions of me really were me, just with different opportunities given.)

“Easy,” said Manuela, her voice coming from far away and right here at the same time.

Before of all the control panels (and whom were those for, what did they do, why were they here, if necessary why unstaffed, why—) was a simple rectangle I now realize was a table. I saw no restraints.

It turned out she needed no restraints.

She lay him down without touching him, exhaled heavily as though she’d been carrying a great burden (with which we can all agree), and then came back together into one, seamless Manuela, whole and panting.

The world we’d taken him from slid away and was gone. Empty, now; it was empty. Anything of the Fears left there would starve.

(Or find Hill Top Road and go elsewhere, I presumed, but I had no time to analyze that now.)

Jonah Magnus lay on the table, looking nothing at all like Elias Bouchard.

Elias had been a pleasant-looking, well-kept middle-aged man. Dignified; he’d looked like someone who’d come from money, whose family had bred for it, who’d lived his whole damn life with spa days, or whatever the hell the rich did with themselves.

This man was pretty, and I wanted to tear off his face for it.

Of course, he wasn’t pretty now. If this was anything like the way I’d looked when I’d been rescued, I could see why Martin had not known who I was for certain.

He was encrusted. Tangles of hair like rope hung heavily from his head. His nails had curlicued, his beard had matted, his clothes had disintegrated; every inch of exposed skin was blackened, covered in muck, and half of what remained of his outfit was covered in mold.

But I knew what he had been.

Pale. Like someone who spent all his time indoors, reading. Surprisingly blond hair (I could not picture Elias as anything but authoritarian salt-and-pepper), all of which was kept just long enough to curl playfully. A tease. A mouth that smiled easily, clever blue eyes that focused, made one feel heard, properly listened to, and now stared wide without comprehension. Pink lips. Why did he have pink lips?

He had not looked dangerous. That was the key, wasn’t it, to all of this? He’d even dressed to ensure he had not; no one could guess he was secretly shitty, reading their minds, spying on their most private thoughts, leveraging their hidden shame and hidden terror to drive them to madness or violence or death.

Wickedness could only hide for so long under a false flesh elegance, and I could see it all.

He was gasping now, gaze darting everywhere.

“Jonah,” said Manuela. “Jonah, do you hear me?”

Behind us, the door opened, and Sasha came in at a jog. “Sorry I’m late! Oh, you’ve already got him, good! Hi, Jon.”

I swallowed, staring at Jonah. Resisting. If I popped off now, I knew I’d endanger my own life here. My time with Martin. I couldn’t do that.

“You sure this was a good idea?” Manuela muttered to Sasha.

“Yes. He’s going to be just fine. It’s important for them both, anyway.”

“Both?”

“That one never knew Jonathan Sims, but… well. From what you said, he thinks he’s the bee’s knees, right?”

Manuela snorted. “From what I can tell, he thinks he’s the Ceaseless Watcher’s best beloved.”

Well. I could definitely fix that.

(Was I really going to leverage my unwanted favored status with a god made of fear to hurt this horrible man’s feelings? Yes. Yes, I was.)

Sasha and Manuela both leaned over him now. “Jonah? Do you hear me, Jonah?” said Sasha.

His rolling eyes, mad-cow-wide, fixed on her.

Then he started screaming.

This didn’t seem to be unexpected. Whatever Manuela had in place here kept him down, and he couldn’t flail, get up, run, anything; the odor of him had reached me by now—the sour, rotten smell of a body unwashed in decades—and I knew that he smelled himself, too, and didn’t know what it was any more than he knew where he was, and that lack of knowledge frightened.

Good. I wanted him frightened.

But the Eye wasn’t done, and I’d let too much of It in to get all the information I had today, and so I knew the Eye liked him (Why? I whined at It), and I knew, too, his ruined regret.

Knew that after he’d found a way to tear the Veil (the what?) and create the world he thought would be so grand, that after the people he so loved to watch all began to die, that after it all went as wrong as he fully deserved it to, he finally experienced through brute force a thing he’d never known all his life: agony belonging to other people.

He had no empathy. Had never known it. Like Mike Crew, simply did not have the ability to feel what others went through, and so it only made sense to look out for himself and nobody else, and so that’s what he’d done—studying, reading, worshiping (for whatever value of that word), giving his fear and other people’s to the Eye he’d chosen to follow, and when he’d torn the Veil (there was that word again) and made a new world, he thought he’d finally be happy forever.

He wasn’t.

His world survived for twenty-two years before everyone died.

The first fifteen years alone, being eaten, he couldn’t understand why. He’d done it all right; why did he have to feel badly? As though, unlike him, the people he’d sacrificed had somehow deserved it—which he’d thought because they were less smart than he, less talented than he, just less.

The next five years alone, being eaten, he knew he’d fucked up. Miscalculated. Hadn’t considered what could happen if everyone finally died and only he remained.

The next thirty-eight years were spent in a cycle of terror, completely absorbed by the lives It pushed through him, forcing him into a conduit he was never meant to be, utterly overwhelming himself.

He’d suffered.

He didn’t fully understand why he’d suffered—he blamed miscalculation, not his own horrible decisions.

I hated him. I wanted him hurting. I…

Damn. Stop it, I said, because I did not want to feel this. Don’t… SHOW me this! I said, because seeing him sob and writhe for year after year wasn’t pleasing, not to me, because I bloody well did have empathy, and it was horrible to watch.

I wanted him punished, yes, but this was not that. This was torture. It wasn’t the same.

He’d screamed himself out, straining so hard that he’d sweated through some of the grime on his skin (and how the hell he still even had moisture in his body was wild to consider—I could clearly see he wasn’t made of eyes), and he was weeping now, like a stupid little boy.

“We’ve got you. You’re safe,” Sasha kept saying.

“Calm down. You’re all right,” said Manuela.

And he wept (good), and he shuddered (better), and he did not understand which was his biggest fear of all (best), and then he glanced beyond them and laid eyes on me.

He froze with a gasp.

My teeth chattered. I clenched my jaw to stop it. There were no emotions for this. For all of this. None. Satisfaction, guilt over that, hatred, a sadism I disliked to find in myself, a tiny bit of horror because I know this kindness had been done for me and I deserved it no more than he did, confusion that Martin would love me when this monster and I were so much the same, terrified anticipation as to what would happen next—

“God?” he said to me, and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out, drooling.

Oh, for the love of hell.

“Finally,” said Sasha. “That first nap took a while.”

“The first one always does. Jon was what, a week plus?”

“Yes, but we expected weirdness with him,” said Sasha. “A thousand years? Pfft.”

“Ahem,” I said. “I am right here.”

“Did you just say, ‘ahem?’”

Men made of eyes could redden, and I did. “Shut up.”

“Sorry,” said Sasha, who was not.

“So what do you think?” said Manuela to me.

Sasha gave her a dry look.

“Think,” I repeated.

“Salvageable?” said Manuela cheerfully, because she was a little bit of a sociopath herself, wasn’t she, because this was all really great fun to make work right, wasn’t it, and she did not share my horror.

Sasha at least had a look of understanding and pity. “You don’t have to pronounce anything right now, of course.”

“Why are you asking me?” I said, evenly, my tone so hard it hurt my throat.

“Because next to you, he’s been in it the longest, and… well, you have a history,” said Manuela. “We want this to work. We need you to work together, at least by choice. He’ll be important as we fight the hunters, as we figure out how to prevent the Fears from taking this world.”

“Stopping rituals, all of that?” I said too casually.

“Not exactly,” said Sasha. “We—”

“What’s the Veil?” I said.

They stared at me. Looked at each other.

Sasha laughed. “Oh, Jon, I missed you.”

“How… who did you…” Manuela started.

“He’s Eye.”

“That doesn’t matter. He can’t know that. An eye can’t see itself.”

“What?” I said.

“Later,” said Manuela.

“Look,” I said. “I’m getting such a huge pile of things to talk about later that it’s threatening to tumble forward off the folding table and all over the gods-damned floor.”

They stared at me again, and then both of them laughed.

I wish I knew why. I wish I could see this as unserious as they seemed to. I wish I could share the freedom to laugh in the middle of this horror, their confidence it would all be all right.

Sasha came to me while Manuela fussed over Jonah, using some kind of tool to begin removing his clothes. “Hey,” said Sasha. “I’m sorry. You know so much, and you’re so familiar to me, it… well. It’s hard to keep track sometimes what you don’t already know.”

“Or what I’m not supposed to know?” I snapped.

“How about, ‘What we don’t want to overwhelm you with?’ Nobody’s hiding it all, Jon. You could just know everything, anyway.”

“Not without a cost,” I murmured.

“Right. But that’s part of the reason why you’re running around a free man. We know you won’t do that. Won’t sacrifice the world again.”

“No,” I agreed. “I will not.”

“So, trust me. We’re going at a pace that’s been proven workable through countless people in your exact circumstance. If we just poured it all onto you, you’d miss things, or be unable to properly grapple with them, or jump to the wrong conclusions, or just… shut down.”

“You’ve seen all those, have you?”

“Me.” She shrugged. “I was the first they rescued. They dumped it all on me. Jon, you don’t want that. I lost my mind for a full year.”

I stared at her. “What?”

“They… they still took care of me. Even though I was shrieking and… look. You’ll get it all, I promise. We just… your body may be really weird, but you are still you—your mind is very much human. Your emotions. Your heart. We’re trying not to hurt you.”

I dearly wanted to believe her.

I almost did. It seemed to me the reasons to believe and disbelieve were… somewhat balanced.

Emotionally, I wanted to just go off, demand information, learn it all. But that particular choice had never worked out very well for me, had it? People died because of that choice. People were sacrificed, blown up, eaten.

Maybe I had to exercise some patience to avoid doing that again.

“I don’t like this,” I said.

“I know. Right, well. Are you willing to be there when he wakes up?”

I snorted. “He thinks I’m God, or something. No.”

“I really think it’ll help his adjustment if you’re around.”

Martin hadn’t given up on me, and I had not deserved that grace.

Damn it. I sighed. “When he’s awake and in his right mind, we’ll talk. I can’t… I won’t be there the way Martin was for me when I was out of my mind. I can’t, Sasha. I can’t. I’ll throttle him, or something.”

She snorted. “‘Throttle?’ Really?”

“What?”

“All right, Mister Nineteen-Forty-Two,” she said. “Go on home. Steel yourself. This is just being part of a community, Jon—people aren’t perfect, but they still need help.”

“Some people are monsters who should be put down,” slipped out.

She just looked at me.

I looked away. “I know I’m being a hypocrite. Just let me have this right now.”

“I trust you. You’ll work through it.” She patted my shoulder and returned to Manuela. “Let’s get him transported.”

“Right,” said Manuela, who’d put his sliced-off clothing in small, floating containers and shipped them off somewhere. (Why? The mold? To study some kind of spore we didn’t have here? Was that safe?)

“Behind you,” said Manuela.

I turned. Lo, there was a portal for me, and through it, I could see Martin’s front door.

I leaped through without a word, unable to avoid the rudeness. I needed to be with Martin, press my face against him, maybe pull him on top of me like a quilt, and hide from everything for a while.

#tma #tma fic #tma au #tma spoilers #magnus monsterverse #jonah magnus #jonathan sims #sasha james #manuela dominguez #magpod #magnuspod

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