#glory ( closed starter. )

[essentiamortis]

@caracarnn

she'd fallen into a routine with her traveling from between the surface and the underworld. it was becoming peaceful, welcoming almost. she has her duties in the underworld and a stable job working as a medical examiner. her job would be easier if she'd summon spirits but that would be crossing the line of balance. souls could haunt but she was limited to evidence at hand. injuries on the bodies, blood tests, toxicology reports, weapons used, medical history, samples taken from crime scenes, if they were found outside, decomposing with bugs or dirt nearby, she'd examine them as well. elizabeth combs through everything she can get her hands on, double back to check her own work.

she applies the same calculated skills to the same corpse lying upon the autopsy table. unidentified female, possible late twenties or early thirties based off bones. there wasn't much flesh left when she was discovered. from first glances, she could tell the body had to have been left out in the swelting summer sun for at minimum two or three weeks. further tests and examination would determine. petri dishes consisting of dirt and remains of bugs she'd gathered from the scene as well as off the body before transport sat on the table next to her.

she's continuing her examination of the visible wounds and overall condition of the body when she hears footsteps entering into her lab. "i do hope you are here to provide more evidence of value and not hounding me about an update like your fellow senior officers like to do."

[sunnydalescoobiies]

THERE WAS NOTHING MORE IMPORTANT TO GLORY THAN FINDING HER WAY BACK HOME. that might sound wholesome and sweet but the true meaning behind this goal was nothing short of horrifying. returning home for this god meant releasing absolute hell on earth. every and each portal imaginable, ranging from all sorts of unspeakable evil, would tear and bleed into this reality. doing this meant glory could take on her revenge against the other gods in her own world for banishing her from her realm. and what was life without something to look forward to? after losing to the pesky, mousy slayer in sunnyhell, she fled the city to recover and gather new and improved reinforcements that could successfully assist her in doing this terrifying endeavor. mystic falls is where her research has brought her to. this town had powerful supernatural energy that she was feeding off of and plenty of victims to go around. hopefully more promising henchmen would show their face and faith to her. after all, she was a god and not one to be trifled with.

WHEN GLORY PATROLLED THE BARS DOWNTOWN, SHE HAD SPOTTED SOMEONE THAT SEEMED TO BE STRONGER THAN THE OTHER IRRITATING ANT-LIKE HUMANS THAT INFESTED THIS TOWN. she seemed sure of herself and knowledgeable. after toturing the lowlife scum that dared called themselves the creatures of the night, all that information brought her to this woman. she was told she had powers unlike anyone else. if she couldn't fight for her, maybe she could point her in the right direction instead. she waited for her move before suddenly, in a flash, appearing in front of @salvatoreseer and not letting the poor girl have time to process the god's speed, she bombarded her with questions. glory tilts her head and lets a sly smirk tug subtly at the corner of her lips, “ hey beautiful. a little birdie told me you could help me out with a pesky problem that's been bothering me ” she started confidently. “ you got a minute ? not like you have much of a choice in the matter anyway but i'm tired of being the snot out of people. so, why don't you make this easy and just come with me ? i'll buy you a drink. ”

[arianaxrocket]

With another mission accomplished,and her paperwork already turned in,Ariana made sure her white heels clicked against the marbled floor as she made her way to the bosses office. Making sure any grunts nearby knew not to screw up while she was around.

Ariana wasn't shy about punishing those who deserved it. No matter who it was.

For now, she kept a white folder to her hip as she firmly knocked on the door to Giovanni's office. She might be an Executive of Team Rocket, but she still had respect and manners towards those ranked above her.

@vindictes

[fateseeker]

⚖ tagdump glory of order villain verse

[xwcxcanxbcxhcrosx]

general tag drop

✶ — ┊❛ it was one of those great stories ❜┊❮   drabbles   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ and i don't wanna wear this cape ❜┊❮   memes   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ we don't need another hero ❜┊❮   dash games   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ will our story shine like a light or end in the dark? ❜┊❮   resources   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ everybody needs a hero ❜┊❮   answered   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ yeah there goes my hero ❜┊❮   promo   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ well we can be heroes just for one day ❜┊❮   starter call   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ out of the ruins; out from the wreckage ❜┊❮   closed starter   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ and we kissed as though nothing could fall ❜┊❮   plot bunnies   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ we can be us just for one day ❜┊❮   wanted opposite   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ when i was a kid, i thought i'd save the world ❜┊❮   out of character   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ we could steal time just for one day ❜┊❮   self promo   ❯ ✶ — ┊❛ and i don’t need the glory i don’t need the fame ❜┊❮   open starter   ❯

[es-draws]

Cream

“Is this what you want?”

You tease her, dangling the plump chocolate eclair above her sugar-stained lips. She answers with a moan, her mouth parting in a gasp, her head tilting back in pleasure. You know by now that she won’t answer, that she can’t answer. She has no breath left to give. But she nods, every inch of her begging you not to stop.

“That’s right. You need it, don’t you?”

You lower the treat to her lips. She stretches to take in more, greedily filling her mouth with doughy pastry, urging you to give her all she can take. She moans again through the mass of cake, her cheeks filled to the brim. She chews through layer after layer of devilish delight, through creamy filling that bursts across her tongue, through frosting thick enough to make her eyes water, until she finally manages to swallow the mass of eclair in one momentous gulp.

The whir intensifies, and she lets out a low, shuddering moan.

“Such a good girl” you say. You grab another.

You hadn’t expected her to enjoy it this much. You hadn’t expected her to want it this much. After all, it was your idea – and your kink. But she had obediently stayed as you pushed her in her seat. She shivered with anticipation as the rope tightened around her wrists. She whispered “hurry” when you bound her ankles to the chair. She had gasped when you placed the toy between her legs. And she had eaten every last bite you gave her since.

“Mmm…” she purrs through a mouthful of pastry.

“That was the last one.”

The remote clicks in your hand, and the buzzing rises. Her thighs tense and her knees squirm as she lets out a squeal.

“You did so well, I’m proud of you.”

You pat her bare tummy at the apex of its bulge, admiring its fullness, pleased with its growth. You wonder how much more it would take to make her truly grow. To turn this chubby starter belly into the blissfully fat gut it was meant to be.

As she writhes in pleasure, her pleading eyes meet yours. And you hatch an idea.

In the fridge you find your mark. A pint of heavy cream. Unopened. Sixteen-hundred calories in all its pure, indulgent, fattening glory. Just waiting to be drunk.

You don’t even need to ask.

She’s waiting for it when you return, mouth already open, head already tilted back. She needs no encouragement, no instruction, no gentle push. In this moment, it’s all she ever wanted.

You tilt the bottle to her mouth. She wraps her insatiable lips around it, ready to take it all in. Her eyes close and she swallows a mouthful. Hundreds of calories are guzzled down to stretch her overfilled stomach. She swallows another. And then another.

You flick the remote, and the whirring between her legs reaches a fever pitch.

“Mmmmm…” 

She moans as she sucks down another gulp. A faint trickle of ivory white liquid spills from the corner of her mouth until fat droplets drip from her chin. She strains against her bonds, her back arching, her hips grinding against the seat. She does not stop.

A third of the bottle gone. A half. Three-quarters. With each second that passes, the box grows lighter, and her cries intensify. You know she’s close. You know she can’t take much more. You know she won’t stop now, she can’t stop now. Not until she finishes.

You run your hand over the curve of her tummy. She groans at your touch. You can feel how taut her skin is, how much her stomach has stretched. You’ve never seen her this big before. You run your hand in a circle around her girth, tracing your fingers from the bulge beneath her breasts down the crest of her middle. You encircle her wide navel teasingly before letting your hand come to rest, cradling the softness of her belly where it distends between her legs.

“Be a good girl and drink every last drop,” you ply. “Then you’ll get your reward.”

Your words send her tumbling over the edge. She guzzles down the final gulps, throes of ecstasy already washing over her, sucking greedily at the remaining drops before her mouth opens in a cry. She hangs there, back arched behind the perfect rounded curve of her belly, as she reaches her peak. She shudders and writhes in pure, utter climax for a blessed eternity. And then collapses. Falls back to a quivering, shuddering, shaking reality, in all her beautiful overfed glory.

“Such a good piggy,” you tease. Your hand returns to her bloated middle, already imagining the fat settling beneath your touch. “Can’t wait to see how much you’ll handle next.”

[disneyprincemuke]

a feeling so peculiar * fem!driver

the new season is finally starting and it doesn't start out as great as she'd expected

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver

notes: whatever is on the masterlist for the 2025 season is all i'm going to write for the 2025 season (i think) and it's all angst so sry in advance

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

for starters, she’s never been shy of being on the receiving end of bad news. or devastating news, or ones that feel earth-shattering.

she knows that because growing up in a male-dominated scene has prepared her for that. people used to tell her to give it up because she wouldn’t get anywhere with it, or not to get her hopes up expecting something from a place where she’s clearly not wanted.

but she’s made it this far to formula 1. with her best friends.

her first year in the sport, she climbed to a mere 6th place and ended 4th in her sophomore year. just months ago when the 2024 season had wrapped up, she was on top of the world. a woman in the top 5 of the driver’s championship — it’s definitely something.

to her, she expected that the only way was up.

she could not have been more wrong about that.

the lights have just gone out, the cars on the grid have just skidded off for the evening and she’s… in the garage? in liam’s garage, to be exact.

noise-cancelling headphones on her ears as she stares dreamily into the screen of data of liam’s car. realistically, she should be helping out because she’s always been big on numbers, but not today. something didn’t feel right.

she’d been so excited all winter break to get back into the car, hopping from all the adrenaline and glory she put in her pocket from the year before. only for her car to have an irreversible problem that would force her out of the race before it even began.

she didn’t even have a chance to participate in the first race of the season. no way to shut down all of the unwanted background noise of the critics of her involvement still in the sport.

“hey.” she feels a bump against her hip, flinching at the sudden intrusion of her thoughts. “brought you ice cream.”

her eyes flutter close and a sigh of relief passes her lips. she smiles and takes a small cup into her hands. “i was wondering where you’d run off to.”

matt grins. “you looked pretty upset so i went ahead and got you some ice cream. does it at least make you feel a little better?”

“yeah, a little,” she says softly, pursing her lips. “thank you.”

but there’s still a yearning in her chest to be the one in the car to race tonight. that’s not fair — how come liam gets to race this weekend and she doesn’t?

she thought about politely asking for his car, but she couldn’t get herself to do that to him. he’s now become one of her best friends after all.

“rocky.”

she tilts her head at the call of her name, turning around to meet a familiar pair of eyes. one that she’s honestly been avoiding all day from the turnout of the weekend.

sebastian had been the one to break the news to her: that she wouldn’t be able to participate in the race due to a fault in the car. she had simply nodded while tears formed in her eyes and turned to walk away from him.

if you were to ask sebastian, the lack of a response from her scared him.

“ice cream?” the girl offers with a small smile, extending her hand towards him.

sebastian glances down at the ice cream before lifting his hand to reveal a cup of himself. “matt got me a cup too,” he admits with a small grin. “i just wanted to check if you’re okay. with the car and the pulling out of the race…”

she smiles politely, lips pressed into a thin line. what exactly is she supposed to say to someone who doesn’t really have anything to do with the development of the car? well, he does have involvement in it — being a retired world champion warrants that kind of valuable input — but she hardly believes it’s his fault.

“it’s okay,” she says softly, feeding herself another spoonful of ice cream. she blinks as her answer registers in her head. she shakes her head with a small laugh. “i mean– i’m okay. it’s just one race.” she glances at matt, standing next to her. “right?”

matt blinks at her. caught off-guard by her sudden want of his opinion; he’s an actor, not a race car driver. he only knows more about one of the two and it’s the answer that his girlfriend wants to hear. so he nods, “right.”

she turns back to sebastian. “a little frustrating,” she shrugs, “but things like this happen. that’s what you always say.”

sebastian smiles. “you learn quick, kid,” he pats her head endearingly. “that’s a good grasp of the concept. you’ll be back on the track next week good as new, i promise.”

she nods, forcing herself to swallow down the words that sebastian spoke to her. but there’s a churning in her stomach that she cannot seem to ignore as she feels her appetite come to a halt suddenly.

she huffs softly as she turns back to the screen. things like this happen, she repeats in her head. surely it can’t get any worse than this.

so it apparently can get worse.

she sits in the car slightly longer than she needs, eyes staring intensely at the steering wheel in her hands.

something’s not right, something’s off. something doesn’t feel okay.

she wants to blame something — rather someone — that isn’t the car. perhaps, she’s suddenly become the problem without her knowledge? it feels like something has shifted in the air recently because nothing seems to go her way anymore.

“is everything okay?”

she flinches at the sudden voice that fills her ears, reminded that she’s still sitting in her car in parc ferme. “yes,” she answers softly at first, “yeah. i’m okay. sorry. it was just a long race. i’m quite exhausted.”

“copy. let me know if you need help, okay? or if you need to talk. it was a tough race.”

a finish out of the points feels so foreign to her. to be two races into the new season and not be in the top 10 of the driver’s championship. this time last year, she was at least in the top 8 in the standings by the second race of the season.

not this time.

but a slow start isn’t so unheard of for her. it feels like the only thing she can do now is hope that everything gets better eventually. it can’t stay like this all year, right?

when she does arrive at her garage, though, it seems that sebastian is not the only one concerned about her first finish out of the points in almost a year. a crowd has formed in her garage, her friends all staring at her cautiously as they await to see the big reaction that they’ve been expecting from her.

“what?” she asks softly, putting her helmet down on one of the vacant tables. “why are you all staring at me like that?”

the silence doesn’t stop. eyes dart all over the garage, some avoiding her gaze and some staring right at her every couple of seconds.

logan is the first to step forward; the boost from mick prompting an annoyed click of his tongue as he throws his arms into the air. “you uh,” logan blinks at her, “didn’t finish in the points today. how are you feeling?”

she blinks back at him. “i’m,” she trails off and catches oscar’s stare, to which he immediately looks away, “okay?” she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you guys okay? you’re acting kind of… weird.”

her friends’ consideration for her feelings during this trying time is valid. once upon a time, she couldn’t handle the outcome of her not finishing in the points. she just had — has — so much to prove.

but it’s just one time out of her many races.

liam smiles. “we’re just concerned.”

“well your concern is concerning,” she laughs sheepishly, now tearing the velcro from her neck and unzipping her race suit. “i’m 22 — i can handle my emotions when i finish outside of the points. also, not my first time.”

a lie. she actually wants to start throwing things around. perhaps the steering wheel since it’s the only part of the car that she could actually detach and yank around, unlike others.

but it’s just one race.

“yeah, but we’re just saying,” mick speaks with a smile, “if you need to scream and cry and vent because you were out of the points — you can talk to us.”

“i won’t even take it personally if it was because of the team orders,” liam adds with a grin. “you know what? i’ll even scream with you.”

there’s only one person she wants to scream with right now, and it’s the only person that isn’t directly involved in whatever the hell this is.

“as will i,” logan presses his lips together, “i feel like i need to scream into the void until my lungs give out actually.”

she runs a hand through her hair. “i’m okay,” she holds her hands in the air to stop any more chatter from her friends who decided they know her better than herself. “let’s freshen up and regroup at the mclaren camp. ice cream, right? maybe dinner? oscar made podium — we need to celebrate!”

oscar shakes his head, taking a step forward. “we really don’t have to. it’s okay, it’s not even a big deal.”

“no,” she says firmly, head snapping over to the australian. oscar flinches back at the way she’d turn to him with his hand pressed against his chest. it’s silly that after all these years, he still tries to minimise achievements when she’s not had the share of the glory. “i’ll see you guys in a bit. 40 minutes?” she looks around. “where’s matt?”

“in my garage getting ice cream,” mick smiles. “40 minutes, right?”

“yes,” she mutters, quickly dismissing them as she heads for the exit to the paddocks. “i’ll see you then.”

the air feels thick when she steps into the paddocks. the whispers are louder than they used to be and the stares are boring holes into her again.

a heavy sigh passes her lips as she picks up her feet into a run, heading straight for her racing home. she just needs to be alone; be by herself.

because surely, it can’t get worse than this.

right?

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[arthenaa]

Dark Red - Sebastian x gn!reader x Ominis

PLOT SUMMARY: while the world perceives the heavens and the underworld as realms clashing against one another in pursuit of building a world for their philosophies, the truth is that change is not so far beyond them. Especially when an angel and a demon begin competing against one another to pursue one of the overseers of purgatory: you.

WARNINGS: fluff, a bit of crack, reader is a heavenly figure, devil! seb, angel! ominis, sebastian and ominis r simps for you, ominis and sebastian are also dense af w each other, imagine not being aware that ur in love with the person u want to kill so bad, reader is both wingman, love interest, and just unbothered as fuck, ominis is referenced to be gabriel, modern setting, angels and demons are in an office setting its kinda funny, you're a tired girl boss just trying to make sense why these two idiots keep visiting you during work hours, God is kinda not happy w that, heavy christian ideologies and imagery, religious references, references to demons and the underworld, inaccurate and fictional connections of religious terms and biblical figure, norse terms cuz y not

TERMS: Highgard = Heaven, MidPath / Middle Path = Purgatory, Underworld = Hell, Fallen = devils / demons, Midgard = Earth

note: heya hihi <3 doing this in the midst of writing comms so that my head can get a break ueue. also a little celebration for my 20th bday and having 1M followers! tysm for enjoying my writing hehe. ive been thinking of this prompt for the past few days. anys enjoy <3 lmk if yall dig this kind of concept. did not proofread cuz im too lazy ig.

Whenever lost souls wander in the abyss, more often than not their questions pertain to one subject of interest.

What happens in purgatory?

It happens more than one can count—a series of experiences with those who have reached the end of the light, one can only deduce the general curiosity of humanity with the realm that keeps the heavens and the underworld in balance.

What is purgatory? While humans believe it to be a place of penance and purification, one would like to think of it as a place of sorting. A waiting room if one would find it amusing enough to resort in humor.

At least to Ominis anyway.

Ominis considers himself to be knowledgeable enough of the inner workings of the realms. He, after all, is one of the honored beings who got to work closely with the Lord. He proudly can say that he's done a lot for the glory of his creator to know things beyond what a normal being can perceive. He's a protector of the light and life that Yahweh brings.

However, there are still things he can't help but be curious about—like the cycle of good and evil with humans. Despite countless tries and efforts to save them from damnation, humanity still somehow finds itself on the brink of chaos. Despite that, their perceptions of the unknown continue to become more and more entertaining by the day.

Another is their perceptions of heaven and hell. Their enigmatic portraits and artistic interpretations fuel their imaginative ideals, influenced values, and understanding of the heavenly principles. While Ominis truly admires their dedication and faith in creating an ethereal image of the divine, the contrasting imagery of perception and reality somehow prompts a chuckle from this old man's lips.

If they knew the changes of the worlds beyond them, they might just have to change everything they know about it.

For starters, suits are mandatory. Everyone wears it here. It's become a staple for simplicity and formality. There are of course no limits to styling it but the suit and tie are a must.

Second, there are no conflicts between demons and angels. Well at least now. After coming to a proper agreement between the creator and the fallen, a civilized community has been built. Each is filled with roles and duties fit to serve the balance of the universe.

Third, it is exactly what you think it is. Desks filled to the brim with paperwork, scritching of pen against paper, and chattering of workers here and there. Highgard has become a modern-day office. Ominis hates the coffee on the 10th floor.

The archangel has already surrendered himself to normalcy, adapting to a new era of management and control. While this does seem to be more simpler and adept compared to the olden days, he does miss the times when he could feel the holy aura of his spear strike through a fallen's heart. In today's context, that's considered murder.

Now what does this relate to purgatory? As mentioned before Ominis still has a lot of things to be curious about and one of them are the things that happen within the walls of the Middle Path.

Specifically, the overseers.

While yes, he is considered to be at the top of the hierarchy. The overseers seem to nullify the authority of those at the top. Only the creator seems to have control over them, otherwise, they're at most the next level of superiority to him.

("The Horsemen of the Apocalypse," His brother, Nier, had mentioned as he leaned against the counter—stirring a cup of coffee with a wooden stick. "He placed them there to keep the balance. It's a land for neither the dead nor the living–a middle ground. They're natural seeds of chaos, of course. It's innate for them to destroy worlds with life and what better way to keep them at bay than to place them in the neutral zone?"

"I see," Ominis hums, fingers tapping at the desk as he leans back against his seat. Nier glances at him before throwing the wooden stirrer in the trash.

"What's got you interested in the overseers, Omi?" The nickname prompts a curl of his lips. Count Nier to be sentimental. The raven-haired man sips quietly as he awaits his response.

"Nothing," He replies. "It's just that out of all the realms, they seem to be less affected by the change."

Nier chuckles, taking a few steps forward to place a caring hand on his shoulder. "It's a place for judgment. We have too much love for humans while the fallen are too detached. The overseers are driven from humanity, they understand them better.")

The words of his brother ring within the depths of his mind, each making a resounding echo as he walks across the white halls.

To tell you the truth, this sudden interest in the middle path was formed not so long ago. A chain of events that prompted a burst of interest from this heavenly figure.

These series of events had formed a routine. There were 3 important things that you need to take note of in this scene.

One, the hallway Ominis is currently on is a bridge from Highgard to the gateway to the Middle Path. It's mostly known to be a connector and pathway for demons, angels, and any heavenly figure with the right permit.

Two, at the end of every hall, is a vending machine that serves coffee. Now, vending machines are not scarce in their company services. In fact, there are at least 5 machines stationed in every building. So, Ominis is quite sure that MidPath has more than enough vending machines to serve a batch of souls.

Third, at exactly 3 PM in Midgardian Time, there are approximately only two figures seen roaming about the halls of the connector.

One is Ominis himself and two, you guessed it.

An overseer.

Ominis walks toward the vending machine, slipping in a few coins before punching in his desired coffee. He takes a breath and takes a look at his watch. Just then, as the shorthand strikes the 15th, he hears the familiar click and clack of heels against the marble tiles.

They're here.

He hears them clear and perfect. The rustling of clothes against one another, the brush of their hands against the fabric, and that same walking rhythm.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

Count Ominis to be a little obsessed but you really can't help but be interested in such a being. Neither angel nor demon—a seed of humanity so pure to the core that one horseman can produce an apocalypse.

An event personified.

It wasn't even God that made them but a natural occurence to life.

How interesting.

He hears the click of their shoes stop beside him, waiting for the brewing of his coffee. There were a few beats of silence, and the only thing Ominis could hear at that moment was the thumping of his heart.

"Gabriel," The overseer greets him, placing their hands behind the small of their back as they wait for their turn.

"Conquest." He greets back. The seed chuckles and heaves a sigh before silence ensues once more.

Same two words. Same format. Repeated for God knows how long he's been doing this. He punches in a latte, wishing the coffee would drip slower but heaven services always work out no matter what and so he gets his cup of coffee within 20 seconds.

He grabs the cup, sidesteps to the left, and takes a sip. The overseer steps forth, punching in their regular. Iced Caramel Macchiatto. The order takes the same time. 20 seconds.

They take the cup with swift movement before turning and making their way back to their department.

Once again, Ominis stands in the deserted hallways–a cup of coffee in his hands and another same old conclusive deduction of one of the horsemen of the apocalypse.

Coffee is an angel's desperation and fuel for conquest.

Ominis doesn't know what to feel about demons.

Beings natural to the abyss—they represent everything opposite to that of life. They thrive in the concepts of darkness, both figuratively and literally. Ominis is well aware of the millenniums he endured seeing the dust of broken horns and seething snakes crumble under his spear. He, after all, has seen everything from the moment the Lord has gathered his army to rule his rightful claim over his creations.

However, there are times like this when he decides it's okay. Demons are okay.

"I think there's a prejudice against smaller horns," Amit grumbles as he spreads a thin sheet of mayonnaise on his bread. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips formed into a pout. Ominis curls his lips at the tone of his voice. "Mine are perfectly well-sized! I-I don't see why this should be a problem at all."

"You're making it a problem, that's the issue," Ominis hears Poppy chime from his left. Amit glares at her response. Poppy's feathers ruffle as she stretches them out, flapping her wings gently to ease the tension on her shoulders.

The three of them were currently in the communal room. The day was slow and there were not many souls to be bustling and carrying on about. Ominis considers days like these a blessing and it was also partially because it was nearing Sunday.

Amit reaches his free hand and touches the spike of his horns. "My mother gave me these horns. I just think people are jealous."

"You're right," Poppy chimes as she tilts her head to give him a mocking smile. "Amit is always right. Can we talk about something else now?"

"You're too mean for a Principality."

"You're too much of a loser for a fallen," Poppy retorts with a nonchalance that almost prompts a chuckle out of Ominis. The demon gasps in shock which the angel giggles at.

"Just because we're on break and one of you is my superior-" Sharp glare comes from Poppy. "-doesn't mean I won't reprimand you two," Ominis cuts forth their humorous conversation with a stern approach. Poppy pouts while Amit grumbles. Then the blonde contorts his face into a wistful look. "However, I'm in a good mood so I'll let it be."

"Oho!" Poppy grins as she scoots her chair closer to him. "You do look even more dashing today, Ominis. What's got you in a good mood, hm? Perhaps, a promotion from upstairs?"

It was actually because he was able to, yet again, interact with the overseer but no one has to know about that.

Amit, ever the inquisitive being that he is, leans forward with raised eyebrows. "Are you in for a promotion to be in the middle order? I hear things start to get weird in that division."

"That's because most of the higher-ups don't look like us," Poppy responds with a bite of her sandwich. Ominis nods with his eyes closed. "At least in the middle and low. Both divisions were made to be accepting to the human eye, most specifically the low order. Ascending that high reveals true nature. The same goes for your monarchs."

Amit hums at the knowledge. While Ominis truly wants the opportunity to serve Adonai directly, he does feel worried about seeing his true self when ascending into a powerful duty. He supposes being an Archangel is too perfect of a role for him to let go of.

"Nah, I don't think I'm that holistic yet," Ominis responds with a shrug of his shoulders. "I still have a lot to do as Adonai's blade."

Just as the conversation resumed its course at the prompt of his response, a pair of cold hands makes its way to his shoulders—the tip of its finger brushing ever so softly against the skin of his neck. Ominis shivers but he does not let it affect him. Although his jaw clenches at the arrival of whoever this is.

"And what of Adonai's blade?" The voice asks, cunning and cool. "Does he perhaps fancy a cup of coffee?"

The arrival alerts the low-ranking figures beside him, pursing their lips in silence as they stare at the figure behind him.

"Leviathan," Ominis announces his presence. The brunette-headed monarch smiles at his true name.

"Mm," The demon hums. He taps his finger against the collar of Ominis's coat. "As much as I like hearing that name off of your lips, I prefer being called Sebastian."

Ah. Yes. This is what Ominis means when he says he's not okay with Demons. When he misses the feeling of his heavenly spear darting through the backs of the fallen.

No offense to Amit. He's too wonderful to be a spawn of a monarch but beings like Sebastian are what he means when he's overcome by a terrible urge to fulfill his original purpose.

He's fought him before. Countless times actually. In the Great Wars of Light and Dark—the famed descent of the Son of Man into the world is tainted with the hands of the fallen. They were carefree and manipulated life freely in their own hands as if it were toys.

Levia–Sebastian, rather, had always been a figure in both the underworld and highgard. A figure of snakes that classified demons as a whole. He was an icon to many and a formidable foe to most. He was surely one of Ominis's favorite things to drive a spear through.

Unfortunately for him, demons never die. They only go back to either hell or earth. A never-ending cycle of death. He supposes this is why the Lord has agreed in a civil approach with the beings of the dark.

"He's surely thinking of ways to murder me, no?" Sebastian sighs dreamily as he sits on the empty chair to his right. Poppy hesitantly laughs while Amit falls silent at his superior. Sebastian then turns to the two.

"Principality," He nods to Poppy, "Comrade" Amit. "If I may, can I please have a few minutes to talk to dearest Ominis? I just have a few things to discuss with him with regards to a war brewing up north in Midgard."

He beams, like the ever-so-manipulative nature of his character. The two sigh, gathering their food before moving to another table, a few meters away from them. It's better to just follow through with a monarch like Sebastian. He somehow has the irritable charm that allows him to get anything that he wants. Ominis is not surprised if he receives another harassment ticket for just existing.

"Was it so important for you to disrupt my leisure time?" Ominis grumbles at him. Sebastian chuckles, placing his elbows on the metal surface of the table. He intertwines his hands and perches his chin on top of it.

"And here I thought you loved that dear little humanity of yours."

"Please," Ominis scoffs, crossing his left knee over his right. He crosses his arms over his chest. "The last thing you'd do is be desperate enough to ask someone like me for help. Disasters are your expertise. What do you want?"

Just like that, Ominis has him cornered. Not that Sebastian would mind that since this is what he originally came for in the first place. Those ruby eyes that seem to never leave the Archangel pairs with a devilish smile before sighing. "Am I ever so deceitful that you think I'm asking for help with a catch?"

"Yes." Ominis answers plainly.

The demon rolls his eyes. "Right sure". There are a few beats of silence before Sebastian speaks once more. "I came here to confirm something with you."

Ominis hums, not bothered to direct his full attention towards Sebastian. He learned enough that wasting his time and attention in believing uncivilized monarchs like Sebastian is just a fiasco waiting to happen. He tries to take some of it in but never really injects full effort to do what they want. After all, his job only entailed in keeping peace and order within the flow of time in the human realm. What demons do is out of the question.

Sebastian hums beside him before speaking. "Do they like tea?"

Ominis stiffens in his seat. "What?"

The demon grins at finally grasping the old man's attention. "I said do they like tea?"

"Who likes what?" The angel is beyond confused. Who?

"Oh come on, Riel," The nickname pops a vein on his forehead. The demon leans close to whisper. "I mean that friend of yours in the gateway."

Ominis finally tenses at the revelation. How the fuck did this guy manage to find out about that?! He subtly turns his face towards the sound of his voice. He doesn't find it in him to reply as the demon prompts a few chuckles from his lips.

"I'm quite excited to be meeting them next time," Sebastian lets out a grunt as he stretches up from his seat and finally stands. He places his hands inside the pockets of his slacks, smiling down at the tense Archangel. "15th of the hour, right?"

"You're insufferable," Ominis grumbles under his breath as the man laughs at his demise.

"You're not the only one interested, Ominis." Sebastian smirks before turning and making way to the exit of the communal room. The clacking of his shoes do not produce the same satisfaction as the seed of Conquest.

He let's out a groan as he indefinitely will have to deal with Sebastian later on. His little interactions with them had been his highlights of the week. Not everyone can have the opportunity to come across a horseman of the apocalypse. Sebastian had to go ruin his little moments of peace.

How can his day get any better?

Ominis is exactly 10 mins earlier than the designated time.

The hallway is deserted and the air conditioning is functioning at its highest. It's safe to say that he's been paranoid ever since Sebastian had made his interest in one of the seeds of chaos. He doesn't know how exactly he knew but he wasn't going to take any chances in allowing him to steal his spot.

Even though the aftermath of 5 lattes a week proves to be quite detrimental to the linings of his stomach.

It's fine. He's immortal anyway.

He swings back and forth on his heels as he waits for the clock to strike the 3rd. He's not sure why he's more nervous today and only hopes that maybe it's because of the damn lemonades Amit brought this morning because her mother had made too much. Bless her soul.

He sees the shorthand of his watch finally strike the 15th hour of the day before he hears the same click-clacking of heels against the tile floor. At the prompt of their arrival, he immediately brings out a couple of his spare coins and begins punching in his latte. He waits, hands tucked in his slacks, at the familiar greeting of their voice.

However, things seems to be way different today.

"Ah, so it's more of your role to be the judge, right?" An all too familiar voice disrupts him off his reprieve. He tenses at the added presence. "Where to place the souls and all that."

"Yes," Conquest hums, a bit detached but their interest in the conversation is there. "I allow passage based on their time of living. The same goes for my siblings."

Ominis's jaw clenches as he hears the fake facade of gasps of interests and the unrhythmic pattern of another's footsteps. Sebastian.

"That's so interesting-!"

"What are you doing here, Sebastian?" Ominis grits under his breath as the pair finally reach his vicinity. Sebastian smirks at the presence of the Archangel.

"Ah, I just passed by Midpath to pass some documents and caught Y/N over here walking towards the gateway," Sebastian coolly responds as he glances at them with a smile. "It's not every day you'd get to talk to a seed outside of their workspace. Your department is the busiest after all."

If he hated Sebastian before, he hates him even more now.

"Ah yes, Leviathan was kind enough to keep me company," Conquest responds. If they were both alone right now, he would've collapsed. This is the most he's talked to them and he can't even handle it on his own. What a joke.

"Please! Just Sebastian is fine," The demon chimes in with a gleeful tone. "Are you well acquainted with Gabriel?"

Ominis is not sure what Sebastian is planning but the demon sure as hell is enjoying this little charade.

"Mhm," Ominis answers for them. "W-We always get coffee here."

"Ah," Sebastian nods. "How adorable. Must be honorable for you, hm? Keeping this little interaction for yourself."

There's something in his tone that seethes at him—buried under layers and layers of fake smiles and enthusiasm. Ominis wants to strangle him but he has to keep up with the expression. After all, despite ruining his moment, this is the most he's spoke to Y/N—he can call them Y/N right?

"Right," Sebastian seems to have read his thoughts. "This is Y/N. Have I mentioned that?"

"Clearly," Ominis grits his teeth. The seed of conquest, ignorant of the tension between two side steps to reach the vending machine. They notice the finished latte siting lonely, perched on top of its container.

"Ominis." They call for his attention. The blonde's breath shifts. Oh Heavens, they said my name. He knows he shouldn't panic or else that would look weird and so he awkwardly turns towards her with a tense look on his face.

Y/N only stares at him with vague interest before grabbing his hand and gently placing the cup of coffee in his grasp. "Your latte," They say.

"T-Thank you." He speaks as if that's the first time he's ever held hands with a handsome person. Y/N then turns to punch in their order, opting for a hot option instead of their usual cold beverage.

Without speaking the duo watch as they tilt their head back with mild interest, waiting for their coffee, hears the familiar ding of the machine, grab their order—gives not one of them a glance and only makes way back to their department.

There's a few beats of silence—the only background noise being the whirling of the air conditioner from the vents. They're both oddly entranced by what just happened.

Sebastian shifts in his position as he turns slowly towards Ominis with a slightly curled up smile.

"Is it normal to be this turned on?"

"You're fucking weird."

Ominis doesn't know what's happening.

There's this weird competitive aura between him and Sebastian ever since that altercation last week and it's as if who can interact the most with Y/N had been set as a competition between the two of them.

He's not really the one to complain since his pride enjoyed the stakes of a competition. However, his dignity has doubled down and screeched and clawed at his mind—begging for this to be done and over with.

He admits. He might have been a little too interested in the seed of conquest but that's what he wanted it to stay as! It was already good enough for him that he was able to interact with them on a weekly basis but now, he's not so sure if he can back out of this one.

Sebastian had been a bit too overwhelming in his efforts to gain their attention. From Underworld cuisine to Highgard flowers and even Midgardian music. He's done it all. The bastard is a monarch after all and so his pay is a little bit higher than his but who cares about that?! Ominis thinks he's utterly unfair in trying to squeeze his way through his and Y/N's leisure time of getting coffee.

He too... has tried several ways to... Y'know. To just keep with the nature of competition. He comes out of his breaks a little early so he can actually try and catch up with them for a walk. Made them sweets here and there. Made sure he was done with his work so he can assist in helping out with Y/N's paperwork. If it's not much obvious—Yes, Ominis is very competitive.

The unspoken attention war had stretched out over the course of the next few weeks. A few co-workers had begun to notice Ominis and Sebastian's odd behavior. It was odd enough that a monarch is lounging in Highgard departments but no one really gave a fuck enough to care.

(Unless it's Imelda, Poppy, and Amit.

"Is the coffee in the gateway really that great? Or do they just have a fucked up death wish of a diarrhea for ordering at least 10 cups of coffee a week?" Imelda grumbles from her spot at one of the tables in the communal room as the three had full-on front seats to Ominis and Sebastian pushing each other and racing for the double doors.

Poppy sighs beside her. The Principality had also noticed the suspiciously efficient work of Ominis. While the Archangel was organized and efficient enough to accomplish his work on time, the speed of doing such works even if it was weeks away on the assigned deadline was far too suspicious.

"They say they're pining over a married Dominions officer," Amit chimes in from his eating galore of glazed donuts. Imelda glances at her co-worker with a crunch of her nose.

"If you were human, that would've already killed you."

"I could possess one if you want?" Amit jokes to which the two angels snap their heads to glare at him. "Right, my bad.")

"They like tulips more than whatever that is." Sebastian grumbles as he assesses the disarray of sunflowers, roses, and whatever Ominis picked up from Midgard. The blonde rolls his eyes at his quips.

"As if giving them tea was enough," Ominis seethes. "I'd have you know that they actually dislikes tea—especially chamomile."

"You sure do know everything, huh?" Sebastian retorts as he takes a step forward. "If I remember correctly, It was because of me that you were given an opportunity to talk to them in the first place."

Ominis scoffs. "Oh, get off your high horse. I would've talked to them either way!"

"You'd take millennia to even do that," Sebastian chuckles, tone mocking and sarcastic.

"Says who?"

"Says me," Sebastian raises his eyebrows, taunting him. "You couldn't even put a spear through my heart if it hit you right in the face."

Ominis tenses. "What nonsense—!"

"Blah blah!" Sebastian taunts like a child. If anyone were to see both of them, they would surely have a field day in the office. A monarch and an Archangel fighting over someone. What a gossip. "I know you always miss the shot. Always a centimeter off, an inch short, a few limbs past—You're too soft. Even for someone like me."

Ominis breath hitches at the revelation. It's true that among all the Archangels, He was considered to be the most accurate out of all of them. That's why he preferred long-range fights, hitting enemies with his spear through a distance. But Sebastian is Ominis's first short-range duel and he's always been meant to fight Ominis after that. Somehow, he always manages to fail killing him, allowing a millennia's worth of suffering because of it.

His brothers would give him comfort and reassurance that someday, he'd be able to strike him off. However, despite countless opportunities, he's managed to fail every single one. He doesn't have the heart in him to admit that he's purposely missing the target because who would believe an Angel having mercy over a fallen?

He has too much pride to admit that.

Somehow over the long silence emitted from Ominis's lack of response, a cough alerts them of a new presence. The two turn around to meet Y/N, standing ever so casually behind them.

"Are you two done?" Y/N tilts their head, eyes half-lidded and a cigarette hanging off their lips. They take a short and swift inhale before pulling the stick from their lips and blowing it towards the two.

The smoke causes them to flinch back and cough. The seed of Conquest takes this opportunity to breeze through and punch in their order from the vending machine.

"Y'know, for a couple of idiots, you two sure are dense as hell," Y/N chuckles as they tilt their head to the side—glancing at them with a smile. They extend their hand holding the cigarette, tapping it towards the trash can situated near the machine. They eye him with vague interest. "A millennia. A fucking millennia—Not even one but a couple actually—" Y/N takes a hit of the cigarette. "That's amazing."

The seed of Conquest blows another whiff of the stick and this time, the duo are prepared at the scent of the chemicals.

"I-I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" Ominis asks, pressing his need for clarification. Sebastian remains silent beside him.

Y/N grins underneath the fingers that snugly carry the stick between their lips. "You two."

"Us?" Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

"You seriously never thought about this? Y/N raises an amused eyebrow. The silence after confirms their thought which prompts a gleeful giggle from their lips.

Sebastian and Ominis take a pause to revel in the beauty of their laughter.

The seed of conquest then takes a step forth and gingerly presses an index finger against Sebastian's chest, "You keep finding him," Then Ominis, "You keep avoiding the inevitable," They then take a step back, taking a whiff of the cigarette before exhaling. "Doesn't it ring a bell, hm?"

It takes at least 25 seconds for the two to come to a realization. Both take it quite differently. Ominis pales while Sebastian flushes. Y/N thinks the colors contrast quite beautifully.

"How adorable," They coo before the machine finally beeps. They take their coffee with ease and take a few steps towards the two fumbling idiots. They lean close, whispering into their ears in the space between them. "Next time you two try and disrupt my work hours, I'll have you know that I can purposefully trap you in a never-ending time loop of a prison. Got that?"

The two nod carefully at their words before Y/N smiles and pats their shoulders. They make quick steps back towards their department before suddenly pausing and turning quickly with a smile.

"Also, you're both wrong," Y/N sighs as they tuck their hands inside the pockets of their coat. "I prefer Baby's-breath and milktea is my preferred choice of drink. 50% sugar with boba."

The two gape at her information. They tilt their head with a smirk, strands of hair falling ever so perfectly against their face.

"Do it right and maybe I'll agree to be taken by the two of you on a date."

And just as she says it, she leaves with the elegance and swiftness of a heavenly figure. The two couldn't even sneak a word in with what just happened, only grasping their gifts apologetically within their hands. In just a matter of a few minutes, Y/N has yet again made them speechless.

Not that the two of them would complain. There's just something about them that just leaves a breath of awe whenever Ominis and Sebastian get a chance to interact with the seed of Conquest.

Sebastian turns toward the Ominis who licks his lips in thought. "They did just say both right?"'

"Yes, Sebastian. They did."

"Are you in love with me?"

"I—"

"I think I'm in love with you," Sebastian hums, thoughtfully as if he's taking a pick which menu he'll be eating for lunch today. "I think maybe I am."

It's times like this that Ominis thinks that demons are insufferable. But then that's their charm, no? Having the ability to continuously infuriate you despite the circumstance. Ominis thinks that maybe he can try to live with that. After all, a couple of millennia with Sebastian had already been proven to be quite a taxing experience—what more a couple more years could do?

If Ominis could answer the questions of the lost souls that venture their interests in the realms beyond them, there's one thing he could definitely answer.

That demons are pricks and also can be the love of your life (you just maybe haven't noticed it yet because you're too busy driving a spear through his heart!), there's a hot overseer he can't stop thinking of, and that angels can also have gay panics.

How livid would humans be when they find out about this?

Well, I guess we'll never know.

A/N: yieeee im 20 now!! HBD TO ME!! (my bday was on the 4th, I was just too busy to post this) I hope y'all enjoyed this! Will consider doing a part two for this baby (NSFW if it has good views teehee) lmk!! love y'all!

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1957 Chevy

The Legendary “Black Widow” 1957 Chevy: A Piece of Racing History

When it comes to legendary cars, the 1957 Chevrolet, also known as the “Black Widow,” holds a special place in the hearts of car enthusiasts. However, few people know the intriguing story behind this iconic vehicle. In this article, we will take you on a journey through time and explore the fascinating history of the Black Widow.

The Secret Support Behind the Scenes

In the 1950s, car manufacturers were prohibited from directly promoting racing. Nevertheless, behind closed doors, Chevrolet found a way to support the racing community. They collaborated with a company called SEDCO to build a limited number of race-ready 1957 Chevys. Only 18 of these incredible vehicles were ever produced.

Unleashing the Beast

To create the ultimate racing machine, Chevrolet started with the lightest model available, the no-frills 150 utility sedan. They then equipped these cars with high-performance drivelines that would leave their competitors in awe. The Black Widows proved to be astonishingly fast, setting records and securing multiple victories on the track.

Restoring the Legend

One particular Black Widow has undergone an extensive body-off-frame restoration, meticulously recreating its original glory. The attention to detail is impeccable, resulting in a pristine body that is arguably even better than when it first rolled off the factory floor.

Exquisite Exterior

Painted in the iconic Black Widow colors of Onyx Black and India Ivory, the exterior of this restored beauty is nothing short of breathtaking. Every panel is laser straight, and the gaps are precise. There isn’t a hint of rust or damage to be found. The flawless paint job has been polished to a mirror-like finish, allowing you to see your own reflection. It’s like holding history in your hands.

Interior Simplicity

Inside the Black Widow, you’ll find a minimalist design that emphasizes performance over luxury. There are no frills, not even a back seat! The rear windows are stationary, and amenities such as armrests, visors, and even a dome light are absent. However, this simplicity only adds to the car’s authenticity and racing pedigree.

Attention to Detail

No aspect of the Black Widow’s restoration has been overlooked, including the trunk compartment. Painted in glossy white, it exudes cleanliness and attention to detail. A reproduction mat, seat divider, and weatherstrip have been added to complete the authentic look. Even the spare tire matches the original style with its 6 lug pattern and reproduction Firestone tire.

The Heart of a Champion

Under the hood lies a highly detailed engine compartment that exemplifies show-quality craftsmanship. The 283 cubic-inch V8 engine has been built to its original 283 horsepower specifications, complete with a correct factory fuel injection setup. Not only does it look stunning, but it also performs flawlessly. With a responsive throttle and a distinctive idle, this powerhouse truly embodies the spirit of a race car.

A Masterpiece Underneath

The detailed restoration extends to the underside of the car as well. The chassis has been meticulously prepped and painted in a smooth gloss black finish. Every component has been rebuilt, replaced, restored, and detailed to match the original specifications. The Black Widow features front and rear sway bars, as well as the unique duplication of two shocks at each rear wheel for enhanced performance.

A True Muscle Car

With its completely rebuilt brake system, all-new fuel system, and Flowmaster dual exhaust, this Black Widow not only looks and sounds like a classic muscle car but also performs like one. The spotless Chevy Orange engine block, lower plug wire shielding, canister-type oil filter, restored starter, and dated 1957 transmission all contribute to creating an authentic driving experience. The floors, braces, and rockers have been meticulously restored to their original factory red oxide primer finish.

[booksandchainmail]

Hugo Best Novel Finalists 2024

I've read all 6, so here's my impressions and loose ranking. The numerical ranking is only approximate for now, I'm going to pin it down once we get closer to voting closing. I could see the top two books switching places, or any rotation within books three, four, and five.

The Saint of Bright Doors, by Vajra Chandrasekera This was one of my top books of last year and one of my own nominations. It's a very strange book, twisty and creative, and left me with a lot of thoughts, particularly about how it handles government. I appreciated the mishmash of worldbuilding, all sorts of things that felt incongruous next to each other but somehow fit together. It also felt more literary than most sff novels? I am not normally deeply noticing of language, but I kept coming back to individual turns of phrase here. All books should have a 50-page chapter in the middle where the protagonist wanders through a neverending surrealist prison land.

Some Desperate Glory, by Emily Tesh Another of my nominations, this is a more straightforward exploration of, essentially, the deradicalization of someone raised in an authoritarian military camp. I respect how this book lets Kyr be awful, be completely convinced she is correct, and be defensive and lash out when confronted with her home's issues. I think the ending stumbles a bit, but really I mostly wanted this book to be much, much longer and have Kyr's character arc spread out more. Also, the choice of title and epigraph is excellent.

Translation State, by Ann Leckie Not much to say here, it's a new book in the Imperial Radch universe, I read it when I came out so don't remember detail. I liked the different intersecting plotlines, and particularly the Presger merge-and-devour adolescent instinct

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, by Shannon Chakraborty This one I hadn't read before but enjoyed. I don't know how deep I'd say it is, but it's fun, a good classic adventure story with a putting-the-crew-back-together plot common to heist narratives. It benefits a lot from its setting: my main takeaway was that the Indian Ocean in medieval times is a criminally underused setting for any kind of nautical/swashbuckling/adventure story.

Witch King, by Martha Wells I read this one when it came out, and remember liking it a lot. The two intertwined narratives, set centuries apart, worked well for me to let the backstory unfold to inform the main plot as it progressed. I think I preferred the backstory narrative? But that might be due to also having the present narrative, since my favorite part was seeing how the echoes of relationships are still going on centuries after we get to see them form

Starter Villain, by John Scalzi I did not like this. I had some criticism last year for Scalzi's Kaiju Preservation Society, on the grounds that it was fun but not substantive enough for an award. But at least with that one I enjoyed reading it! My main thought while reading Starter Villain was "Well, at least it's short." I think my main problem with this is tonal: it doesn't commit enough to the over-the-top goofiness of "guy inherits his uncle's supervillain empire" and keeps trying to ground it in what an actual secretive genius billionaire pulling strings behind the scenes for his own nefarious purposes might look like, but then any attempts to actually be serious with the grounded stakes and world established kept running into the fact that it also featured sentient cats and talking dolphins! Also, I couldn't stop noticing that the protagonist talks the same way as the major supporting characters, which is the same way the protagonist talked in KPS last year

[elsfleur]

⋆·˚ ༘ * WHERE THE FLOWERS BLOOM | 0.1

ellie williams x reader x abby anderson

summary: the small tight knit city of jackson anticipates scandal in the arrival of brooding newcomer ellie williams who finds herself drawn to local flower shop girl, though she is not the only one.

content warning: this is a rewrite for something on my old account if it seems familiar, lightly nsfw content, modern!au and presence of original characters for the sake of world building. this is a slow burn fanfiction but hopefully worth the wait.

word count: 1,684

🪷 ʾ ⠀

you exchanged glances across the room as though sharing a secret in code neither of you fully understood but remained too stubborn to demand translation. abby, your abby, if you could call her that, was always the one to break eye contact first, a sip of her drink, a rub of her eyelids. months have passed since she had been truly vulnerable with you, a wretched mess of pouts and tears– the way she had arrived drenched by the rain, nearly falling against herself at your doorstep, begging for kindness, left you imagining terror scenarios for weeks. you held her till the shivers stopped and the sobs softened, dragged her muscular figure onto your bathtub and undressed her into the warm bubbly water.

and you felt sixteen again, caring for the girl who would not hold your hand in public but melt at your fingertips behind closed doors, she who was jackson high school’s basketball captain and miss all star in all her glory, she the daughter of a prestigious surgeon destined for great things and ivy leagues, she who dated owen from soccer but you the girl she truly wished to kiss.

she would call you her little secret as though it was endearing, a pet name, and it drove you sick to your stomach but you were down at your knees with her thighs pressing your cheeks and the moaning echoing louder than the wetness of your tongue by her clit– whenever she would brush the hair away from your face coo you pretty girl with her fingers down your slits you convinced yourself there were worse things to be than hidden, for starters: not hers.

dina caught on to your staring game, clearing her throat as she poured you a second drink in raised eyebrows and suggestiveness. your best friend and her unacquaintance of subtlety had stained your relationship with abby beyond repair, acting as though one trustworthy person having conscience of your affair was equivalent to a stab in the back, you remembered the way she’d screamed at you: i’m not gay! i just… i just liked you. just you. that doesn’t make me anything we are not the same! there were hardly excuses to be made, there were no repairs possibly done. you were an average nobody doomed to jackson and girls forever, whilst she was abigail anderson, trademarked by standing ovations, promising rising star.

you bitterly guessed her ego bested her once the injury happened, stealing away an nba future and a full ride ivy league sports scholarship until all that remained of her was the same honey blonde braid and a new pair of uniforms to replace the basketball jersey, sheriff slacks. abigal anderson, an average nobody doomed to jackson and girls forever, just with an added layer of self hatred on top. you dismissed both your old lover’s and best friend’s stare.

“i hope whoever rented the shop is nicer than flora was”

“i don’t mind either way as long as they’re as hot as flora is to make up for it–“ dina answered with a side smirk retorted by her on and off boyfriend eavesdropping a few tables away with a glare “you know anything about them, anderson?”

the entire town of jackson had stopped on its tracks to peek into the blacked out windows of what used to be flora’s bakery, an exciting guessing game at every arrival of trucks unloading black leather chairs and tall unopened boxes that according to jesse made heavy noises to the shake. the owner, whoever they may be, haven’t made their way to the building yet, and all pointed towards a newcomer. jackson wasn’t used to those.

abby licked her whiskey coated lips before speaking “didn’t take you for a gossip, dina”

“we both know you did”

her eyes were on you again, pale blue like a stormfront, searching your expression. abby anderson was a different kind of beauty, ragged around the edges, rough and sharpened. everyone guessed college would straighten that out of her, ivy league with the rich and powerful far enough from jackson you’d think nostalgia was a disease amongst the trophies and gpas. the cowards wouldn’t look her in the eye since the return, stamping failure further into her skull. she just drank.

“you should get them flowers” jesse cut the tension “from your shop, like a welcome to the neighborhood sorta of thing”

a silly game blossomed into your heart years ago, the inspiration for your flower shop really: how everyone you meet could be described by the floral language. dina thought hers too common, but it was your favorite, a daisy, standing for loyal love and “i’ll never tell”. jesse, a white jasmin, sweet love, amiability. even abby, forget-me-nots. you hoped to see the newcomer before blessing their arrival, if not, daffodils. new beginnings. a safe choice.

“i doubt they will like them” abby scoffed “it’s gonna be a tattoo shop, the owner, ellie, doesn’t really seem like the flowers and sunshine type of girl”

“tattoo shop” dina mused “hot”

🪷 ʾ ⠀

…and she was. the week had ran through you like water between your fingers and with daffodils in hand you were ready, flipping away the open sign from your shop and skipping towards your neighbor. hands busy with the plant pot, you pressed your face against the tinted glass windows as to search for the newcomers who had just hours prior been described to you over the phone with multiple flamable metaphors.

“are you looking for something?”

you were startled, nearly knocking down the vase in your hands and you understood, dina’s voice echoing gasoline, fondue, forest fire, cinnamon liquor through your brain to the point it fogged your response and reactions. freckles like starry war paint, eyebrow scar, pale green iris, peach pink lips, auburn hair gently brushing her shoulder at length. breathtaking, you immediately named the feeling, but she looked worn, tossed around. you blamed it on the lightly bruised eye she carried, caught onto sky grey vibes. you damned the daffodils, immediately thinking of something better: without knowing a single trait, you saw red carnations grow behind her in the way spiritualists would claim to see auras. red carnations; “my heart aches”.

she caught your eye for a second while awaiting your response, taking you in under her shuddering gaze in such precise detail you were sure all the lines and dots connected into the paiting of your face had made themselves a maze under microscope. she searched for something in you, a reaction, you barely even noticed how your breath had hitched until you ran out of air. her hand slowly reached towards your face in what appeared at first to be a cheek caress, before she tugged a leaf from behind your ear, stuck to your hair.

“uh yes! you! hi i’m your neighbor, the flower shop girl” you commented embarrassingly quiet, nodding your head at the leaf and the bouquet as though a flustered explanation.

“hi flower shop girl, i’m ellie”

ellie. you tasted her name on your tongue and melted into the feeling before she took the gift from you, arms extended. the heightened sleeve of her grey t-shirt exposed a beaming sun by her bicep, detailed sad expression in black ink across its center. you took notice of everything. ferns and a moth grew from her hand to the very end of her forearm and covered scars you could only assume to have been self inflicted. a sword pierced through the spare space of skin next to a phoenix and finally angel wings alongside a well hidden initial: J. you wouldn’t ask, but you wanted to.

“welcome to the neighborhood” you finally managed to say “those are daffodils, the flowers for new beginnings so i figured it fit”

“they’re beautiful, thank you” she answered, clearing her throat in uncertainty “anyways i have a tattoo appointment to get to in a couple of minutes, but it was nice meeting you”

“oh! yeah! of course! nice meeting you too, ellie”

you planned out your next meeting in your head, showing up with cookies as they do in the movies, catching glimpses of her sketches on the wall, giving them backstories to fill the gaps. it wasn’t so strange to be eager as you were taking into consideration how rare these opportunities had presented themselves: you never left jackson, not even on vacation. the world was meant to turn on its axis but you were destined to stay still, an agoraphobia rooted into your veins like movement would burst your chest open, bloody and broken. the flowers had been a therapist’s idea: to take care of something innocent as a purpose, exist outside the shell of a body you painfully cared for in pure obligation. your personal garden arsenal though, had meaning. yellow tulips, that’s what you were. the flower for unrequited love. the one tattooed by ellie’s hipbone you were yet to see.

too busy watching ellie walk away you barely caught abby’s gaze from the corner of your eye, her patrolling uniform perfectly neat and spotless in the same way she pretended to be, you too enthralled in the newcomer to watch her jaw clench. the return to your shop was hasty, the same daily people in line for a new centrepiece bouquet until the pleasantries and weather talk went quiet, jackson preparing itself for early slumber with the sunset.

🪷 ʾ ⠀

you were about to head up to your apartment when she opened the glass door, bells echoing out throughout the store “we’re closed” you called out, not turning around from your position rearranging pots until the heavy breathing made itself known to you, not following any steps towards the exit, the anxiety suddenly sending you shivers before your eyes could meet the entryway and harden at abby.

“we have to stop meeting like this-“

“shut up” she stopped you bluntly, in a stride finding her way towards your body and pressing it against the counter with her hips and grabbing your neck in a chokehold before rushing her lips against yours in a breathless sloppy kiss.

[essentiamortis]

@ofsnarkandmagic / starter call.

"apologies for my intrusion but do you happen to know if mellie is around? i have a gift for her." she inquires as she glances around the shop she'd been frequently visiting for the past few months.

[marias-island-of-visitors]

//Closed Starter

@a-fantastic-time

To say Raven was nervous about all of this would be an understatement. The Gothic spellcaster had agreed to do this little trip with Starfire to try and get to know the girl a bit more. She had expected maybe an ice cream date or maybe some pizza. What she didn't expect was a nude beach surrounded by cute women with their asses clapping away. She had half a mind to turn back and go home, but she had agreed to do this with Star, and she wasn't going to back out of it now. She just had to think of it as training. Training to keep her emotions from going out of line. Once she did that she was able to lower her hands and go to her usual self, even if she was still blushing at the sight of all these naked women.

'What's taking Starfire so long... I couldn't bring my communicator with me because I'm stuck naked. Hopefully, she's ok... ugh why am I even worrying, Star could handle a whole army by herself and still come back with that cute smile... ugh God damn it. Keep it together Raven, this is your teammate, your friend, you've been able to keep your emotions in check this long while she flies around in her mini skirt and tube top. You can survive it now' Raven thought to herself as she tried to keep her emotions in check, eventually hearing the alien woman fly towards her.

"There you are... Star...fire..." Raven stopped as she looked towards the woman, seeing her stunning body in all of its glory, her thick hips, her massive tits, her alien dick... wait... alien dick?

[classiqals]

open starter!!

setting -> Gemjabet Mariyam, the smallest of the rock hewn churches, just after sunset

status -> CLOSED, not accepting replies

with their prayers said, and some of them genuine this time, ariyan lingered behind as the skies turned from shades of orange && pink to a navy midnight with a gradual descent into night. belly && mind full from the day's events of delicious feasting, talks of diplomacy, and hands shook - ariyan was wound up, fingers pressing into the stone as eyes gazed at the colorful artwork splattered across every surface. they dressed now as a shah would - wearing medallions of persia, a ring with turkish gold && jewel, hair braided beneath an ornate headpiece that screamed their importance. each item felt perfect, the weight of such glory felt && desired, and ariyan kept their head held high as they gazed upon ethiopia's finest religious masterpieces to brag of.

the sound of another caught the acting ruler's attention, and they turned slowly to greet another, gauging which face to present for optimal outcome. " who could believe ethiopian nights could rival the beauty of day? if you listen, you can hear the sounds of the wild just outside. " ari paused, silence coating the church. " i wonder if they too have come to pray for peace. " noticing a lack of guards, eyebrows rose. " are you here unescorted? "

[rainystarters]

* ☔ : sentence starters inspired by lyrics and aesthetics from the third full album CHILL KILL by red velvet. ( adjust pronouns, etc. as needed. )

what brings you here all of a sudden?

glory to the incomplete.

could anything scare me?

you're so easy to make mine.

but i want to see you again.

i don't care if it hurts.

don't think about tomorrow.

forget about your sorrow.

what a chill kill.

this night is harsh.

you tamed me badly.

for you, there was only me.

was i worth it, baby?

look how i'm changed.

could i hold you once again?

i won't cry because of you.

all i need is your warmth until the end.

knock knock. open up the door.

it's so bittersweet, but i like the chase.

got a devil on my shoulder.

who's there?

leave a mark.

i'll drive you deeper.

close your eyes.

you want it more.

you can't escape my game.

you're trapped in my dream.

all i need is for you to stay.

and forever, you will sway.

they can't love you like i love you.

it's something that never existed from the start.

you can open your eyes now.

i only allow you here.

you can take your time.

it's all you.

i can't wait, babe.

what's it gonna be?

you should show me.

you're so deep in me.

you're ingrained in me.

who can love you like i love you?

the feelings i awakened, all of that is true.

i want you, no one else.

just come lay your body on me.

you can leave everything to me when you reach your limit.

you want me endlessly.

i'll dig into your heart.

you were my dream.

will i ever see you again?

nothing lasts forever.

our story is not over.

call us back.

if it's a dream, don't wake up.

remember us now.

what used to shine is gone.

the cold of the dark is like a veil.

even your hands feel cold.

cover your eyes.

don't forget it's all a dream.

it's just a nightmare.

close your eyes, make a wish.

it'll be okay soon.

it's getting blurry again.

we'll be fine.

i'll find you wherever you are.

he's standing there as if he's possessed.

my empty heart is filled with ice.

take a mouthful.

all my nights get longer.

you make me feel all this fantasy.

even my breath is white.

addiction is sweeter.

got me up all night.

one kiss.

a secret between the two of us...

the closer i get, the more curious i get.

i tell you what i like. what i want, what i don't.

what are you waiting for?

show it to me

give me something hot.

there's only one chance.

i want you now.

your eyes keep shaking.

you're going to get caught.

you're going to miss your chance.

there's never a second chance.

baby, take it slow.

you won't forget my kiss.

i'll swallow you in the moment.

make eye contact.

be quiet.

you're in a lot of trouble.

you can't pull yourself together.

i'll protect your heart.

tonight, without anyone knowing...

get ready for my kiss.

gonna lose your head.

there are things that have been decided.

you better run.

better get out of my way.

i'm a bulldozer.

i'm your poet, i'm your pain.

i'll destroy everything i can see.

what can i break?

i've never been confused.

sorry you got in my way.

no matter what night brings, sunrise will come again.

sometimes i get bruised by the wind.

there's nothing to be afraid of.

spread your wings.

heaven is open to you.

even if something's wrong, i don't care.

[wcrfcres]

CLOSED STARTER ✦ @steelfyre , @laments , @shedevout , @oftroje , @sepulchcrs

one of their own , the words etched itself somewhere in a dark corner of his mind that he cannot reach . an itch that snickered , tempted , and lured him to indulge his curiosity further than necessary . as a knight , as a member of the queensguard , he held great control over himself and tempered his impulses . ❝ i've got this pit in my stomach ... ❞ it continues to taunt him , the image of a man half - torn , a blade piercing through the winged creature forever ingrained in his head . he knew that sword , knew the man that wielded it , they were sworn brothers . the other's name spoken , smothered with glory , a true knight to the end . still , he feels it in his bones , in his gut , in all that makes him the knight that he is , something is not right . ❝ something's wrong . ❞