#wood gain wallpaper

[raininginthenight]

Bathroom - Contemporary Powder Room Inspiration for a small contemporary powder room remodel with shaker cabinets and dark wood cabinets

[missroxelot]

Bathroom - Contemporary Powder Room

[ghoularaki]

baby's breath | 2

↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 4,395

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, noncon/dubcon, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, death threats, human trafficking, bdsm

An overwhelming urge to vomit awoke you. Pain shot from behind your eyes and encompassed your head. Pressure built up like someone was crushing your skull between their palms. Clenching your eyes, you attempted to blink the hurt away. Light streamed in from the blinds, tinted pink from the curtains. 

Your brows furrowed as you tried to whisk away the blurriness clouding your vision. As the kaleidoscope room morphed into one, you were more perplexed. You were placed on the floor that was a soft carpet under your fingers. The appendages went to dig your nails into the wool only to be met with resistance.

You couldn’t move.

Not even an inch. You were completely paralyzed besides your eyes. Tears clouded your vision more as panic built up in your chest. With every bit of will power, you forced your mouth open to scream, but a mere squeak came out. Breathing heavily, your eyes bounced around what you could. The more your brain cleared, the more you realized, you had no clue where you were. 

The room was that of a little girl’s. Wallpaper decorated with butterflies ranging the rainbow with a light pink background spanned the whole room. There was a bureau—a light colored wood—with trinkets of fairies and bunnies on top of it. You gained a little more mobility in your neck to turn deeper in the room to see a crate built for a great dane with a bed inside along with a multitude of stuffed animals. A blushing canopy hung over the crate along with twinkling fairy lights. 

Peering upwards, you see an open closet filled with frilly clothes of whites, pinks, purples and baby blues. The most jarring part was the leashes and collars lining the inside of the door. As you gained a little more mobility and feeling, you realized you weren’t in the same clothes as before. Down to the underwear and lack of a bra. A sob broke out from your chest. 

Attempting to still your breathing, you shakingly inhale and exhale to gain some clarity. Closing your eyes, you focused on your whole body. Envisioning your own nervous system, you willed at least your fingers to move. Nostrils flared, you were able to get your toes to wiggle with great concentration. The headache was worsening.  

A door creaking open pulled you away from your stupor. Instinctively, you turned your head towards the door to see the very door Erwin kept you from. Within the frame stood Levi. From your place on the ground, the man towered over you, peering down at you from his nose. 

Fear clutched and squeezed your esophagus as you attempted to wiggle away. You barely moved a centimeter as Levi gracefully walked to you. Unable to look away, you kept eye contact as he crouched down, hovering over you. A whimper crept up your throat.

He tilted his head at your pathetic form, drinking it up. Levi brought a hand to your face to clutch your cheeks, squishing them in between his calloused finger pads. He turned your face left to right, inspecting it. 

“The toxin should wear off in a couple hours.”

You could only whine in response, not able to move your jaw up and down just yet. The way he was clutching your mandible was no help either. 

Delirious and terrified, what happened before you passed out came rushing back tenfold. Your eyes scanned the room again for a hint of where your old clothes were in hopes to find your phone. As if reading your mind, Levi drops your face to reach into his back pocket. You flinch considering last time he reached behind him, he jabbed you in the neck with a syringe. 

In his hand was your phone. Your fingers twitched, begging to snatch it from his grip. He dangled it in front of your face, taunting you. “Looking for this?”

You softly nod your head, eyebrows pinched. His hands grip both ends and snap it in half like flimsy wood. The audible crack haunted your ears. Tiny glass shards crumbled into the carpet while Levi dropped the broken phone. Your chances of escaping were depleting rapidly. 

He goes to stroke your hair as you sobbed, scared of what was going to happen to you. Were they going to kill you? 

“Don’t worry your daddy will be home soon.”

The words offered no solace and only confused you more. You prayed he didn’t mean Erwin. Your chest heaved more as you grew more hysterical. This can’t be happening. You wanted to go home.

“Hey brat, you need to calm down,” His words were cold and apathetic.

You only cried more as your fingers dug into the rug and your feet barely kicked. You needed to get up. You had to run, escape, scream, do something. If you didn’t, they were going to kill you and no one would find your body. No one would care anyway. You would be just another missing person case filed away in a cold, metal cabinet serving as your casket. 

At this point, you were hyperventilating. Your body had gone into full blown panic mode and even Levi lightly slapping your face did little to pull you out. You didn’t want to die. There was so much more you wanted to do in life. 

You choked on your own tears as warm liquid spilled from your crotch and pooled around your bum. How pathetic were you to piss yourself out of fear? Your body begged to curl into the fetal position and wallow in self pity, but whatever Levi injected you with wouldn’t leave for a while. 

“What is going on?” A new voice sliced through your cries. 

Erwin stepped into the room along with Levi. The short man’s knees cracked as he nimbly stood back at his full height. Both men swallowed you whole as you laid in your own filth. 

“She started to lose her shit.”

He nodded and his blue eyes spied the darkened spot on your skirt and on the carpet. “This is the exact reason I said to lay down the puppy pads,” Erwin scolded Levi.

Puppy pads?

“I didn’t know she was going to piss herself like a shitty toddler.”

Levi really did know how to rub salt further into the wound. You were embarrassed enough as is, his degrading words offered no solace. The smell of ammonia permeated in the air.

“I will take her to get cleaned up, I can tell you’re already itching to bleach the carpet.”

Levi clicked his tongue at that, but didn’t refute his command. As Levi walked out the room to get his supplies, Erwin crouched down beside you. Gently, he tucked one arm under your back and the other under your knees. He pulled your weight up with ease. 

With you cradled close to his chest, he walked out the door and down a familiar hallway. You attempted to struggle, but he squeezed you tighter. Your breath got caught in your throat from his rope-like arms. The drugs were heavy in your system so all you could really do was lightly kick your feet. Even that had you out of breath. At the far end, on the right, Erwin nudged the door with his toe and went through to the bathroom. He set you down on the counter.

The lights above you hissed and hummed while they stung your eyes. In the other room, it was illuminated by a soft, orangey glow while the ones in the bathroom were a harsh almost blue tinge. From the hallway, the smell of bleach wafting in made your nose crinkle. Levi wasted no time. 

Seeing your pinched face, Erwin departed from you and closed the door, locking it as well. Panic built up again. The older man filled up the room, swallowing you whole. There wasn’t much you could do as you had to be leaned up against the wall like a doll. Lifeless and frail. The most strength was in your legs, you could feel how the muscle begged to move. 

Like a magnet, his body gravitated towards yours once more. Lacking any politeness, Erwin started immediately stripping you. His fingers hooked around the babydoll dress you were forced into while sleeping. Latched onto the hem he tugged it up until it reached under your armpits. 

“S-stop,” You gained your voice. It was meant to be a scream, but what came out was a pathetic whimper. 

He ignored you as he gripped your arm to slide it out one sleeve and the same with the other. His hand went to the middle of your shoulder blades to sit you up for a moment to pull the clothing over your head. Neatly he folded the dress back up and set it on the other counter next to the sink. Oh how your arms screamed to hide your exposed breasts. 

“Don’t t-touch me,” The command was futile, but you refused to let him think you were going to take this lying down. 

The man let out a dismissive hum and moved to the bathtub, twisting the knobs. His hand went under the water to find the perfect temperature. Satisfied, he plugged the drain up. Erwin went into the cabinet parallel to you and grabbed a clear, honey-tinted bottle. It was baby soap. What he grabbed was soap made for infants. Your fists balled up. Despair filled you like how the water morphed into the shape of the tub.

What the fuck is going on?

Squirting some of the liquid soap into the tub, you watched as the bubbles boiled up. A soft, clean scent encompassed the room. The smell filled your head of childhood memories long forgotten of sharing baths with your cousins. If you thought hard enough the smell of washable crayons would soon follow. But you weren’t in the safety of your aunt’s home, you were locked in a house with two men with strange, perplexing intentions. 

He put the bottle back and turned to you. Trembling, you knew what was about to happen. Erwin slotted himself between your parted legs. A little more bold, he placed his large palms on your knees. Your thighs quivered as his fingers danced up the skin towards your last bit of protection. 

You could do it, Your tendons told you, Don’t let this fucker think you’re weak.

Just as his fingers wrapped around the band of your underwear, you reared your knee back and shot the heel of your foot straight into his nose. 

“Fuck!” He grunted as blood poured out.

Some of the red splashed onto your shin and onto the white tiles. Your shoulders bounced as you laughed at his misery. The toxin heavy in your system was making you delirious. 

Erwin clutched his nose as he shoved a finger in your face, "We don't do that."

His condescending tone tempted you to kick him again. He muttered under his breath as he went into the cabinet to grab a hand towel to wipe off the blood. Unfortunately, you didn’t break his nose and the blood stopped after the initial blow. Throwing the towel down onto the counter, he tugged your underwear off with fervor. Barely contained aggressiveness caused his forearms to quake. 

"You're lucky I don't call Levi in. He won't be as tolerant as me."

He picked you back up and you attempted to wiggle, but the kick had left you limp. Erwin shoved you into the bathtub, the warm water embracing you. Despite the exhaustion gripping your bones, you go to hit him in the face again. More sluggish and Erwin expecting it this time, he gripped your ankle and tugged. 

You yelped as your body slid down and collapsed into the bubbly solution. Water squirmed into whatever orifice it could. Choking on the soapy liquid, you panicked as it shot up into your nose and lungs. Your arms were no better than cooked noodles so there was no way to pull yourself back up. You were drowning. 

Erwin gripped your upper arm and hauled you out of the water. You sputtered as you came back up. Coughing roughly, you threw back up all the liquid flooding your system. Your eyes stung and were bloodshot. As you hiccuped, you glared up at Erwin from under your furrowed brow. 

He clutched your cheeks and leaned himself over the rim, “Don’t make this anymore unpleasant for the both of us.”

Knowing it was a losing battle, you nodded your head. You couldn’t fight anymore, not until the drugs wore off. You had to be smart about this.

Erwin petted your wet hair and maneuvered your body into a more comfortable position. He took a washcloth and dipped into the soapy water and started to clean you. His movements were purely clinical and didn’t linger anywhere unwanted. Your teeth almost cracked from your tensed jaw as he dragged the cloth across your inner thighs and your pussy.  

The knob jiggled open. From the doorway, Levi made his way into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. In his hand was a key he shoved deep in his pockets. Your eyes drank up the information, filing it away for later. 

Erwin turned to Levi and the shorter man’s permanent scowl deepened. His light feet crossed over to his friend and bent down to examine the darkening bruise on his nose. 

“What happened,” It was meant to be a question, but he phrased it like a statement. 

Erwin shook him off. Levi was having none of it and gripped his face. His grey eyes pierced into Erwin’s, likened to how a stormy sky meets a calm sea. 

“We had an accident. Don’t be too concerned over it.”

Levi sent one last glare at him, nodded his head and extracted himself from the taller man. You drank up the whole interaction, nitpicking their whole relationship and how to abuse it for later. Back to his full height, Levi looked at your limp form. Luckily, besides your collarbones, everything was shielded by the extensive bubbles. 

“How is she holding up?”

Erwin’s shoulders tensed a little before relaxing and going back to stroking the cloth over your skin. He was scrubbing the same spot on your thigh over and over again. If he kept going, the skin would be rubbed raw. 

“I haven’t said anything yet.”

You despised how they talked like you weren’t in the room with them. Erwin gripped your right arm and lifted it out of the water to now clean that area. You shivered as you were exposed more to the cold air. 

Levi sighed, agitated. “Well you better because if I do she might just piss herself again.”

“Fuck you,” You seethed.

Erwin shushed you, “The adults are talking.” 

“Are you fucking-” Levi stomped over to the rim of the bathtub and shoved his fingers deep into your mouth. You choked on the makeshift gag, your esophagus spasming around the appendages. 

“Watch your tone.”

Your feet weakly kicked as you continuously swallowed around his fingers. You were tempted to bite down, but how Levi glared down at you, you kept your teeth to yourself. 

“Am I understood?” Whines tickled your throat as you stared up at him with teary eyes. He shoved his fingers deeper. “I said, am I understood?”

You rapidly nodded your head as much as you could and tumbled out, “Yeth, Thevi.” 

He ripped his fingers away and rubbed your spit on your face. “Filthy brat.” 

“There is no need to be so rough.”

“Apparently I do. Come, you can explain to her over dinner.” And with that, Levi walked out the bathroom, leaving you alone with Erwin once more. 

How was it dinner time already? What time is it? How long had you been knocked out for? The questions swirled and swarmed your head. 

Heeding Levi’s words, Erwin switched the flip to drain the bath. You watched as the tiny hole swallowed the water along with the bubbles, sucking it up with an audible, clanky slurp. The tall man came back with lilac hued towels splattered with woven butterflies. He helped you up once more and patted you down dry. Next came a pair of pajamas, a silky pink. The panties were a soft cotton with a white bow in the center. It angered you how cute they were. He slid them up and patted your hips when the band rested comfortably. 

Efficiently dressed, Erwin picked you up but this time like how you would a child. He rested your weight on his hip and a firm forearm under your bum. His other hand cradled the back of your neck so your head sat on his shoulder. You put no effort into helping him carry you, having your arms hang by your sides.

Erwin carried you out of the bathroom and down the hall until you reached where the living room was. Turning right, he went into the dining room adjacent to the kitchen. You noticed there was a metal plate on the floor that wasn’t there last time. Welded into the sleek steel was a small arch. The plate sat under the kitchen table. A bad, foreboding feeling sat in your stomach. 

At the kitchen table were three plates of food, but only two chairs. Levi was already situated at the head of the table, waiting for the both of you. Your laptop also sat on the table. Erwin walked to his chair to the right of Levi with you in tow. 

No wonder there was no third chair as Erwin sat you on his lap. He twisted your body so your back leaned against his chest. Oh, how you wanted to struggle, but decided against it as your butt was mere centimeters from his crotch. 

You stared at the delicious smelling food in front of you. Was there anything Levi wasn’t good at? 

“Eat,” Levi commanded before taking a bite of his own.

“I’m not a dog,” You snided.

“Could have fooled me with all your shitty yapping. Eat.”

You looked down in shame. You had barely gained any mobility in your arms. Sure you could flex your fingers, but you had no idea if you could bring the fork to your mouth. 

Sensing your troubled thoughts, Erwin turned you so you sat sideways. He took your fork, dipped into the food and brought it to your lips.

“Open.”

Already learning your lesson from Levi shoving his fingers down your throat, you clamped your mouth shut and glowered at him. 

Fatigued from your constant refusal, Erwin raked his fingers through your hair and yanked backwards. Stinging pain coursed through your taunt follicles as he shoved the fork into your mouth. He placed the fork back down and slapped his palm over your mouth. His whole hand encased your lower face. Unable to spit the food out or bite him, you chewed and swallowed. 

“Good girl,” He cooed. 

You were going to vomit, hopefully on him. 

Levi was a spectator to how Erwin repeated the process over and over until you were done with your food. His own plate was left untouched. The tall man took joy in babying you. 

Erwin grabbed a napkin and wiped away the nonexistent traces of you eating from your face. He was delicate like he was handling a porcelain doll. The way his eyes never strayed had your back tingle. His stare was almost uncanny. Deep, deep blue threatened to gobble you whole. 

“You’re going to drop out,” Levi cut in. 

“What? No.”

“I don’t remember asking,” He grabbed the laptop forgotten in the middle of the table. His nimble fingers rubbed against the mousepad. The laptop illuminated his face with a soft white. He clicked a few buttons and then turned it back around to you. Displayed on the screen was the form to dropout. 

“People will grow suspicious if I randomly drop out,” You tried to reason.

“We already know you are barely passing all your classes. No one would care or think twice.”

Your eyes caught onto the weather app at the bottom of the screen. The laptop was tracing the location, it must be. 

“They will be able to find me.”

“With the laptop? We already have that sorted, don’t get your hopes up.”

A tight ache settled in your chest. You were so confused why they were doing this to you. The life Erwin helped you build back up he was tearing right from under you.

“Why?” You begged. 

Erwin shifted you higher on his lap, cradling you as you started to cry again. “Because you can’t take care of yourself.”

“That’s not true.”

“Hush, Daddy will take care of everything.”

Cold washed over you. What did he just say?

“Erwin,” Levi bit, exasperation on his face.

“She was going to figure it out sooner or later.”

Anger started to swell in the air. Panic built further in your ribcage as you were left even more confused. Why did Erwin call himself such a crude name? 

“That’s enough for tonight. Finish the form and we can head to bed.”

Levi got up from his seat and walked over to you. This time he was the one to lift you. He showed no signs of struggle as he left Erwin to fill out the paperwork. When he walked back to the bathroom, alarm bells rang in your head. You refused to be put in such a vulnerable position again. 

“No.”

“Quiet.”

The door was left open from before and he set you down on the counter. He opened the cabinet mirror and pulled out a new tube of toothpaste. It was strawberry flavored with childish, cartoon berries decorating the aluminum. Plastic clinked against porcelain as he took a pink toothbrush from the stand with two other ones. One was green and the other blue. 

Levi squirted the paste onto the bristles and ran it under the water for a couple seconds. He tapped the brush against the sink. His hand tugged your legs apart and made a home between them. Cupping your jaw, he brought the toothbrush up.

“Open.”

A very, very stupid thought crossed your mind. What if you bit him hard enough to draw blood? He would have to visit a doctor if you did otherwise he could get sick from an infection. How would he explain an adult human bite without raising suspicions? He couldn’t. 

Open your mouth you did. As he brought the brush to scrub your teeth, you tilted your head and latched onto the meat of his hand. On the side of his hand where his pinky is, you bit down so hard your teeth scraped against bone. 

“Shit!” He grunted out. 

He was able to rip his hand from your grasp and hit your face so hard you collapsed hard into the sink. 

“You fucking bitch,” Levi seethed as he shook out his hand.

You smiled up at him with bloody teeth, “You should get that checked out by a professional. I heard human bites are worse than a dog's if left unchecked."

“You’re fucking done for, Mutt.”

With his uninjured hand he ripped you from the counter and clamped down on the back of your shirt. Your legs still like jelly so you had to half crawl to keep up with his pace. He dragged you back to the bedroom by the collar like a misbehaving puppy. 

By now, Erwin had heard the commotion. His heavy steps marched over. Levi threw you into the room you first awoke in. He muttered under his breath as he ripped different restraints from the closet. Blood ran down his forearm and onto the carpet. 

“What is going on?” Erwin’s voice thundered.

“Your little princess bit me.”

Erwin turned his attention to you, sat in the middle of the room, red coated your chin and lips. You smiled up at him, too, no remorse in your stance. Your posture screamed you weren’t going to make this easy for them.

Metal clicking together brought your attention to Levi who came over with various black leather restraints. He also had a pink bone gag. 

“Hold her mouth open. I don’t want to be bit, again,” Levi scowled.

Erwin walked to stand behind you. His hand cupped your forehead and slammed your skull into his upper thigh. His other hand pinched your cheeks so hard you had to unhinge your jaw. Levi shoved the gag into your mouth and you sputtered at the taste of oddly sweet plastic on your tongue. 

The shorter man’s crotch was right in your view as he went around to secure the belt loops. If Erwin wasn’t holding you down, you would have headbutted him. Your jaw creaked at being forced open. 

Levi stood back up. Erwin let go of you, but your freedom didn’t last long. A foot shoved your head down until your forehead hit the carpet. You grunted as said foot stood on your temple as you twisted your head to a more comfortable position. 

“You don’t get to complain,” Levi was furious. 

“Levi, I can handle it from here. You should get that checked out.”

There was a long pause. “Fine, just throw her in the crate. I will deal with her later.” 

“I got her handled.”

Levi clicked his tongue and let up on the pressure on your head. You collapsed further into the ground in relief. You listened as his socked feet pattered away until it was just you and Erwin. 

Erwin showed no mercy as he gripped you by the hair and forced you up. He tugged you to the crate you saw earlier. Despite the stuffed animals and pink covers, you were left unsettled by the daunting cage. You were tossed in with little care. Luckily you landed on the plushies and not the metal bars. He slammed the door closed and locked it. The same key from earlier was in his fingers. Were there multiple copies?

“I don’t want to be mean, but if you want to act like a dog then you will be treated like one.”

“You are past the point of mean, Erwin,” You glared between the bars. The words were muffled, but he got the point.

The man looked so tired, “Good night, Princess.”

With that he left the room and shut off the lights. What the fuck were you going to do now?

[twistedmindtales]

The Stench

She found herself standing at the threshold of what she had hoped would be a new beginning. Kate’s new apartment, nestled in an older part of town, was a bit rundown but held a quaint charm. When she stepped inside, she first noticed the dull peeling paint. The wooden floors creaked with every step, and the windows let in more draft than light, but to Kate, it was a blank canvas, a chance to build something anew and start over. 

As she moved in, the apartment's peculiar familiarity offered her a flicker of hope, a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time. She had become depressed over the past few years due to her recent failed relationship and began pouring her energy into fixing up her home, channeling her emotions into every stroke of paint and every nail she hammered. The living room, once draped in faded wallpaper, came alive with warm hues of yellow and cream. She polished the wooden floors until they shined, reflecting the newfound light in her life.  

Amidst the apartment’s renewal, a subtle, peculiar smell began to make its presence known. At first, it was barely noticeable, a fleeting whiff that Kate would catch as she moved from room to room. She thought little of it, assuming it was just a quirk of the old building. Maybe it was the mustiness of aged wood or a lingering scent from a previous tenant. It was easy to dismiss, lost in the aroma of fresh paint and cleaning products. 

As days passed, the smell began to evolve. It was no longer a mere background note; it became a persistent, underlying stench that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. Sometimes it was a faint, putrid scent in the morning, like a whisper of something rotten hidden beneath the surface. Other times, it would catch her off guard in the evening, a sudden gust of foul air when she opened a closet or passed through the living area. 

Kate tried to combat it with scented candles and air fresheners, but they only masked the odor temporarily. She cleaned obsessively, scrubbing every inch of the apartment, hoping to eradicate the source. But the smell persisted, growing bolder, more oppressive. It started seeping into her newly hung curtains and the upholstery of her refurbished furniture, an unwelcome intruder in her sanctuary. 

The stench became a constant companion, a reminder that not all was well in her idyllic retreat. It hung heavy in the air, a tangible presence that seemed to watch her as she moved through her daily routines. What once were sporadic whiffs had now become a suffocating cloak. 

Determined to uncover the source of the smell, Kate examined each room, starting with the living room where she had first noticed the smell. She moved furniture, looking for any hidden mold or forgotten trash that might be causing the odor. She cleaned the carpets and drapes, hoping to wash away the scent, but it clung stubbornly to the fabric. 

In the kitchen, she scoured every cabinet and appliance, checking for spoiled food or a dead rodent perhaps trapped behind the refrigerator. She poured bleach down all of the drains and kept all of the windows open, even at night, but her efforts yielded nothing. With each unsuccessful attempt the stench seemed to mock her, growing stronger, more pervasive.  

Her search eventually led her to a small, unnoticed storage area above the furnace. It was a cramped, shadowy space, easily overlooked. With a sense of foreboding, she pried open the locked door, steeling herself for what she might find. 

The sight that greeted her was something out of a nightmare. In the dim light, she could make out the form of a human body, grotesquely decomposed. The shock of the discovery sent a jolt through her. Once she caught her breath and gained her composure, Kate leaned in closer to take a look at the body which revealed features twisted in an expression of horror, and eerily reminiscent of her own. 

Her eyes began adjusting to the dim light and a horrifying realization dawned on her. The body, though decayed, bore an uncanny resemblance to her. The face that stared back at her was her own. It was a ghastly version of herself, but unmistakably hers. The eyes, though lifeless, seemed to hold a mirror to her soul. In that moment, time stood still, and a chilling silence enveloped the room. 

The air held a heavy sense of solemnity as the building superintendent led a group of police officers into Kate's apartment. The visit was a grim affair, precipitated by a harrowing confession that had recently come to light.  In a moment of conscience-stricken turmoil, Kate's ex-boyfriend had confessed to her murder, revealing details that had eluded everyone until now. 

With measured movements, the officers opened the small storage area. There, amidst the darkness and the now-overpowering stench, lay Kate's mortal remains. The sight was a stark reminder of the brutality she had faced, a jarring contrast to the memories of the vibrant, hopeful woman she once was. 

[bbyquokka]

9:25 pm (lfx)

→ GENRE: timestamp | drabble | angst

→ WARNINGS: gn!reader | mentions of taking sleeping pills | alcohol consumption | just a lot of feels and angst rly ;-;

→ WORDS: 0.6k ~ (662)

→ A/N: inspired by deep end from the skz-replay album. did i listen to it on repeat whilst writing this? yup. Am i a sobbing mess rn? yuppp

→ m.list – → ao3

He cannot sleep. He wanders around his apartment night after night, swallowing sleeping pill after sleeping pill, but the memories still haunt him.

Your sweet, angelic laugh. The soft slaps of your bare feet on the wood floor, the soft hums of a tune you adore, dead and gone.

His apartment has never felt so lifeless.

Every room he enters holds a memory of you, a memory he holds so dear to his heart he cannot let go. He can see you, see you making brownies, lounging on the sofa. 

Your smirk as you seduce him. Fingertips dancing ever so lightly on his soft skin, like tiny pixie feet. Your warmth suffocating him, surrounding his body in a blanket of pleasure. Your moans like music to his ears.

He was addicted to you, in more ways than one. You were the cause of his high sex drive. The second his eyes fall upon you, he's caught under your spell, blood rushing south in an instant.

He doesn't have the energy for it. Sex is meaningless to him if it's not with you. You made him feel alive and now that you're gone, he's nothing but a shell of nothingness.

The picture frames remain on the tables, holding special and precious memories of you both. Now all they hold is a thick layer of dust and dirt. Your belongings are still scattered around the apartment; he hasn't gained the courage to sort through them and box them up.

Time stood still. Felix found himself in an endless cycle, spinning around and around. The world carried on around him but for him, time stood still. His body stuck in an endless loop. 

You kept him grounded, advising him and soothing him of his worries. Now they swim around and around in his head, tormenting him, laughing at him until he finds himself screaming into the night. 

Only, no one heard his screams, his cries for help. 

Alone. 

Awake for x amount of hours. swallowing x amount of pills and drinking x amount of cheap vodka, nothing works.

Frustrated. Because nothing works. Nothing seems to soothe him, nothing seems to drown out his thoughts. His own head became his worst enemy. 

How foolish of him to think a walk in the cold, winter air would make him feel alive. It just made it worse. Every store he walked past, every corner he turned was a new memory of you.

“Please make it stop.” Teary eyes looking at the night sky, his usual bottle of vodka in one hand, the other clutching the material of his t-shirt where his broken heart aches. “I can't do this without you.”

Silent sobs shake his thin frame. He's cried so much that he has nothing left.

“You promised.” He'd whisper harshly at his phone screen, his wallpaper still of you after all these months. Violent sobs shake his frame, and there it is. 

A tear. It lands on his screen, the watery texture mixing the pixels together in a range of colours. His vision blurred, a pounding headache approaching from the pressure.

“I want to feel alive again. Please give me a sign. I'll do anything for a glimpse of hope. Just make this pain stop! it's unbearable.”

“Why is the world so cruel to me?” He leans back, sniffing whilst bringing the rim of the vodka bottle to his lips. He hisses, feeling the burn travel down his throat and settling in his empty stomach.

It burns, but it's a sigh he can still feel. Even if he doesn't want to.

“Now I'm truly all alone in this world.” He whispers, eyes closing slowly. He's tired, exhausted body slowly shutting down. He doesn't fight it.

He allows it.

So consumed with his own thoughts, he doesn't hear the soft crunch of the snow approach him. It wasn't until he smelt that all too familiar scent he opened his eyes slowly, a coat wrapped around his shoulders.

“Y/N?”

→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @sstarryoong | @laylasbunbunny | @meltheninja13

[remadra]

The Powers That Be

HC's and bragging under the cut

All the paintings were referenced from the game but I did them myself, I made the wallpaper design, yes I did the wood grain line by line because I'm insane and I taught myself to mimic the VHS/static effect manually. I'm incredibly proud of all the work I put into learning new techniques and improving my skills! Okay!!!

It's all canon to my Pale City teens AU but it's also my HC for the series in general.

Each power manifests as a warped version of its respective child. Hunger doesn't quite look like Six though. I HC'd the shadow in LN2 after Six gets taken as the Hunger manifesting, displaced because the Broadcast overpowered and kicked it out as Six was taken into the TV, and that it originally was RCG's power. Six and RCG have the same silhouette with their hoods up, or at least close enough to fool people into mixing them up. It attached to Six after RCG fell in order to save itself, because it needs a body to feed off or it'll fade away. That's why it seemingly encourages Mono forward when he falls from the train- it can't take Mono, he already has the Broadcast, but it can follow him back to Six, like a ship following an ice breaker. Hunger requires feeding (whether it be gaining control/power over something or feeding Six's ego in a pinch) but unlike any other power, it isn't bound to a location. It's a splinter of the Maw's power that clung to RCG, the daughter of The Lady, when she ran away, seeking to gain a foothold somewhere away from the ship to grow itself. In a way, both were running from their mothers. Hunger, as a non-location bound power, can also feed off other powers, slowly gaining abilities similar to or derived from others. Originally it couldn't transform it's kid into any monstrous forms, but close contact with the Broadcast's Tuning gave it an edge so Six can warp herself at will. Hunger can only grow, but so will the cost of feedings. This is why it only has one concrete ability for its current child unlike the other's having two.

The Broadcast is Mono's power, and rarely shows itself to others. It can be glimpsed lagging behind Mono as he runs through the tower or TV hops if one looked closely, but its shy for an all-powerful being. It prefers to watch. Its granted abilities are the TV connection and Tuning the world, though its restricted to the Pale City to stay at its most powerful. Mono can Tune things from their warped to normal forms, like clearing static from a screen, but it doesn't work on living things, or he can Tune something Out like The Thin Man into simply... not existing anymore. He can Tune his powers to be more precise but it's exhausting. The TV connection allows him to hop around via the screens, both through space and time as long as a TV is connected to the Signal Tower. It's easier to hop short distances because the toll is exponential. Mono could move a mile with one hop, but it takes less energy to make a series of short hops to move the same mile. It's also much easier to only move through time or space, so he'll often look for close by TV's to use before heading to a specific moment. To avoid paradox problems in the time loop, interacting with himself in a way he doesn't remember causes extreme migraines as the Broadcast patches in the new memories. He tries not to use it too much, and avoids spoilers for the future. They only cause problems.

The Pretender's power is called the Command. Strongest at the Nest, but weakest in its own personality, it allows her to direct or control adults in her domain- The Butler and The Craftsman would still do their jobs as adults are incredibly focused on purposes, but a little direction with a Demand helps remind them who's in charge. The vocal ability also has an effect on children. Though she can't Demand them to do anything, it can paralyze them momentarily. This ability gets stronger the older the target until they're compelled to follow orders. Her second ability is the Dismissal Touch, wiping the victim from the world and only leaving their possessions behind. It only works on the living, so her Touch wouldn't have any effect on the Bullies or something already dead. It's not that her gloves would stop the Dismissal either, it works on anyone through clothing as long as they connect, but because Pretty's powers are closely linked to her emotions it helps to have a tangible cover so she doesn't slip up and Dismiss a friend by accident. That is a hassle for Mono to fix via time hopping and restarting the day. Checking her gloves gives her a sense of security. Anything that startles or frightens her can cause her power to flare in defense.

That's what I have to share so far!!!

[dlifesworld]

Top 7 Living Room Design Trends for 2024

If you’re an interior design enthusiast or a homeowner looking to revamp your living space, 2024 is bringing some exciting changes to living room design. The living room, often the heart of the home, deserves a stylish and functional design. Let's explore the top seven living room design trends our interior designers in Pune compiled to help transform your space into a haven of comfort and elegance.

1. Sustainable Materials

In 2024, sustainability continues to be a key focus in interior design. Homeowners are increasingly opting for eco-friendly materials that are not only beautiful but also kind to the planet.

Recycled Fabrics: Upholstery made from recycled materials is on the rise. Think sofas covered in fabrics made from recycled plastic bottles.

Bamboo and Cork: These materials are not only sustainable but also add a touch of natural beauty to your living space.

Reclaimed Wood: Floors, coffee tables, and shelves made from reclaimed wood bring a rustic charm while promoting sustainability.

2. Bold Colors and Patterns

Say goodbye to neutral tones; 2024 is all about making a statement with bold colors and patterns. This trend is perfect for those who want to inject personality into their living room design.

Vibrant Hues: Deep blues, rich greens, and bold reds are making a comeback.

Geometric Patterns: From wallpaper to rugs, geometric patterns add a modern touch to any living room.

Mixed Prints: Don’t be afraid to mix and match different prints. The key is to balance them with solid colors to avoid overwhelming the space.

3. Multifunctional Furniture

With the rise of smaller living spaces, multifunctional furniture is becoming increasingly popular. Pieces that serve multiple purposes are not only practical but also stylish.

Sofa Beds: Perfect for guests and small apartments.

Storage Ottomans: These provide extra seating and storage space.

Foldable Tables: Ideal for those who need a dining table that can be tucked away when not in use.

4. Biophilic Design

Biophilic design, which focuses on incorporating natural elements into the home, is gaining traction in 2024. This trend is all about creating a connection between the indoors and the outdoors.

Indoor Plants: Adding greenery not only beautifies your space but also improves air quality.

Natural Light: Maximizing natural light with large windows and skylights.

Water Features: Small indoor fountains or aquariums add a calming effect.

5. Smart Home Integration

Technology continues to influence living room design, with smart home integration becoming more accessible and user-friendly.

Smart Lighting: Control the ambiance with smart bulbs and lighting systems.

Voice-Activated Assistants: Devices like Amazon Echo and Google Home make managing your home easier.

Automated Blinds and Curtains: Adjust your window treatments with the touch of a button.

6. Minimalist Aesthetic

The minimalist aesthetic remains strong in 2024, focusing on simplicity and functionality. This trend is all about “less is more.”

Clean Lines: Furniture with sleek, clean lines.

Neutral Palette: Whites, grays, and muted tones create a calming environment.

Decluttered Spaces: Keeping only essential items on display to maintain a tidy look.

7. Vintage and Retro Accents

Adding a touch of nostalgia, vintage and retro accents are making a comeback. These elements bring character and charm to modern interiors.

Mid-Century Modern Furniture: Pieces inspired by the 1950s and 60s.

Retro Lighting: Statement light fixtures that evoke a sense of nostalgia.

Vintage Decor: Incorporating antique pieces like mirrors, clocks, and artwork.

2024 is shaping up to be an exciting year for living room design. Whether you’re drawn to bold colors, sustainable materials, or smart home technology, there’s a trend for everyone. By incorporating these top seven living room design trends into your home with the guidance of a reliable team of interior designers in India, you can create a space that is both stylish and functional.

[aith-art]

Falloutober 2023 - Day 26

"Ink Spots"

Prompt by @falloutober

Word Count - 473

The living room was quiet, bar MacCready sat on the sofa, cleaning his gun while he listened to the radio. Shaun had settled down for the night. 

Calling the space a living room never felt strange to Phea, it had been her living room two hundred years ago and it felt wrong to change it. The wallpaper might have faded and peeled off, and the walls might be patched up with wood and the guts of the old neighbourhood. But the building was still standing and despite everything it was still her home. 

From her perch at the old kitchen island, she watched as MacCready meticulously checked over his gun. He was checking for any unseen damages that might cause a risk to the mechanism. It was the same way he’d looked over her when she’d gotten into a fight with a deathclaw. Careful and gentle. Phea didn’t know how to feel about her mental comparison to a gun. 

Striding round to the sofa, confident MacCready had finished his inspection of the gun, she turned the main lights off. The soft glow from the small light in the corner allowed for a gentle atmosphere to fall over the room. 

Travis stuttered something over the radio, introducing the next song. Phea hadn’t really been paying attention to the radio, too consumed by her own thoughts. 

“I don't want to set the world on fire

I just want to start

A flame in your heart” 

MacCready noticeably grimaced at the song. A lifetime in the wasteland with such a small collection of music available must steadily remove any joy that could be gained from those songs. Phea, cuddling up beside MacCready, started to sing along. 

“In my heart, I have but one desire

And that one is you

No other will do” 

MacCready looked down at her, confused, “You like this stuff?” 

She smiled at him, “Yeah, Nate used to have this album on holotape. He used to play it all the time.” 

MacCready smiled back at her, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Believe me

I don't want to set the world on fire

I just want to start

A flame in your heart” Phea kept singing. She pushed herself up, her cheeks damp. 

MacCready watched her as she began to sway to the music. Slowly, he stood with her, wrapping his hands around her waist. Her back to his chest. Together they swayed, Phea continued to sing along. She turned to face him. A gentle smile filled her face. 

The song began to draw to its close. 

“I don't want to set the world on fire

I just want to start

A flame in your heart.” 

As Phea sang the last lyric, MacCready drew her in till their noses met. She closed the last few centimetres between them, closed her eyes and kissed him.

[realtorjamier]

Home Decor in 2024. What’s Hot & What’s Not?

Pink’s out. Peach is in.

Pantone’s Color of the Year for 2024 is soft and subtle “Peach Fuzz,” replacing last year’s vibrant “Viva Magenta.” Pantone is recognized globally as a leading source of color expertise. 

“In seeking a hue that echoes our innate yearning for closeness and connection, we chose a color radiant with warmth and modern elegance,” says Leatrice Eiseman, Executive Director of the Pantone Color Institute™. 

If you’re looking to revamp your space, consider PANTONE 13-1023 and its complementary colors: everything from creamy, brown and tan neutrals to shades of teal, lavender and mint green. Note: gray is not listed. For those who went wild with gray or greige tones during that trend, you might want to roll up your sleeves and buy a new paint roller.

What’s out?

Say goodbye to Barbiecore (think pink). What else is losing favor? Here’s a quick rundown of trends that seem to be going by the wayside in home decor:

Sliding barn doors (Let’s face it – they don’t even do a great job of blocking light, smells, and sounds.)

White-on-white kitchens

Extremes – whether that means bare minimalism or over-the-top Grand Millennial

Heavy industrial style

What’s in?

Back kitchens

AKA butler’s pantry or scullery, this separate space keeps secondary or backup items hidden from site, tidying up the more public area. Here you can house additional refrigeration and freezing, warming drawers, wine storage, lesser-used mechanical devices, formal entertaining dishes and cutlery, etc. Appliance garages have been around for a while, but they seem to be gaining popularity as another way to streamline kitchens.

Bespoke bedrooms and bathrooms

Behind the scenes, highly personalized spaces offer homeowners comfort and creative freedom. Feel free to layer these rooms with your favorite monogrammed fabrics, artwork, family photos, and heirlooms. Make it meaningful.

Casual luxury

It may sound like an oxymoron, but  luxury doesn’t have to mean formal. Rather than opulent and imposing, choose comfortable, lived-in furniture that is still beautiful and lavish.

Bold wall treatments

Add depth and personality to walls by treating them as large canvases. Incorporate wallpaper, paneling, 3D wall coverings, stone or wood features, decorative molding. This is a take on dopamine decor – which continues to be popular – creative touches that make you feel good when you walk into a room. 

Separated spaces

Demolishing interior walls to create all-in-one living/working/playing areas is seeing a bit of a reversal. Delineating spaces by incorporating walls that still have good flow through the use of doorways and openings allows for rooms with purpose and intention.

Mixed metals

This may come as a relief. Chrome, brass, black, copper, bronze – all can be used when harmoniously paired. Trying to keep up with what’s in shouldn’t mean having to change out plumbing fixtures annually!

Mixed materials

Kitchen countertops don’t have to be one solid matchy-matchy mass. Add interest and dimension to this horizontal space. Consider a mix of materials for visual, tactile and utilitarian variety – natural wood with granite, or quartz with sleek stainless steel. 

Outdoors in

Windows seem to be taking center stage – becoming bigger and bigger. The view outside is more of a focal point than an after-thought. Biophilic design is also a way to get the feeling of nature inside your dwelling by adding large indoor plants and natural wood and stone finishes.

Mud-laundry rooms

Combining a laundry with a mudroom is a space-efficient idea. Storage components can serve double-duty: hooks, cabinets, cubbies and drawers.

Sustainability

Cheap, mass-produced furniture is becoming increasingly unpopular. People are gravitating toward quality pieces that are higher end and/or repurposed for a lesser environmental footprint.

A word of caution

Before you revamp your space with all the latest trends, carefully consider which ones truly work for you. If you’re thinking about selling your home soon, reach out to me and let's talk about what changes will give you the biggest bang for your buck.

[spacecasewriter13]

When the Lights Go On Again by @spacecasewriter13

Story Summary:

It is May of 1946, over a year after his fall from the Hydra train and losing his left arm, and James "Bucky" Barnes is struggling to adjust. Working as an analyst at the New York City SSR branch, Bucky tries to put the war and all of its sorted memories behind him. However, try as he might he is plagued by thoughts of Magdalene "Maggie" Ramirez, a Women's Army Corps (WAC) Corporal he met in London and hasn't spoken to since before his fall in January of 1945. Little does he know that Maggie, in her struggle to put the war behind her, has moved to the city and looking for a job with the New York Bell Telephone Company as a switchboard operator. Now, by sheer dumb luck, they are reunited as they both fight come to terms with what they were to one another during the war, and work to figure out how to move forward in a world that was unprepared to deal with the consequences of war in the unsteady peace.’

Chapter 21: Missed Connections

After missing Bucky at the library thanks to a nightmare, Maggie goes home to visit family which leaves her with even more mixed feelings about herself and her situation than before.

Excerpt:

A baby was crying, screaming so loudly it drowned out the pounding of her heart and nearly obscured the sound of the air raid sirens.

“Where the hell is everyone?” She muttered before calling out. “Nelly? Teddy? Ingrid? Pai? Daniel? Anyone? Hello?”

Her voice echoed and died away without a response.

Maggie continued down the long hall. She was in the barracks, the blacked-out windows making it nearly pitch black, the murky light giving everything a blueish tint.

No…no, that wasn’t right. She was in the long hallway of Pai’s house on Grant street, only it seemed the beaten floorboards and the yellow wallpaper and dark wood paneling seemed to stretch on forever. Dozens of doors lined the hallway. Whispering echos distorted her hearing like static on the line, keeping her from hearing clearly.

Her vision swirled, the floor twisting and warping like a funhouse mirror, and she staggered, hand out, trying to find the wall to support herself again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to identify where the baby’s cries were coming from. She could hear the scream of the air raid sirens, but now the whistle of bombs was closer.

Opening her eyes again, she found her vision tunneling, and she could only see a few feet in front of her. Hands out at arm’s length, she groped for a door knob or something she could latch onto.

“Someone grab the baby! Get the baby to the shelter!” She tried to scream, but it came out choked, muted.

Maggie tried to start running, but her feet moved as though she was moving through quicksand, sluggish and uncoordinated. Each movement was harder than the one before until she was only moving inch by inch. Tripping over an object she couldn’t see, she scrabbled on hands and knees, fighting hand over hand to gain territory.

The whole time she was screaming. She knew she was screaming. She could feel it in her chest and coiled in her throat, but no sound came forth.

The bombs were practically on top of her now. She could hear them and hear the screams and shouts from the streets over, which mingled with the screech of buckling steel, the cracking of timbers, and the clatter of falling bricks and stones.

“I have to find the baby. I have to get the baby. I have to protect the baby!” There were tears now, her throat raw and ragged even as no sound came out. “Please! Please!” She pleaded.

Silence.

Loud and horrible silence filled the air, and she took a deep breath, her hands going over her head, her body tensing, bracing for the explosion and the rubble that would come down around her.

And then—and then she was on the floor?

Maggie blinked, aware she was in a prone position on her side. Her body was covered with her heavy quilt, which had been draped over the end of the bed. Her head, which pounded, was propped up on…on….

To Continue Reading Please Visit Ao3

[discordapples]

PT. 19 Severance

Word count: 1.5k (7 mins read)

Characters: Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian Sallow.

Summary

Ominis searches the Room of Requirement for clues about the Collector and finds a strange book. When Sebastian confesses to his friend that he kissed Livia, the two Slytherin boys have an altercation that threatens their friendship's solidity.

Read the next chapter below.

Song list: We Are, by Hollywood Undead.

Ominis | Hogwarts, Early October, 1893.

The Room of Requirement has many seams, all of which Ominis spoors with the tip of his wand first, then with the pad of his fingers.

Aside from the standing mirror—that he is careful not to touch, for he knows this is how the entity gathers precious information on his marks—the room harbors a timeworn mahogany wainscoting, curls of flaking wallpaper and a kingdom of cobwebs lorded over by broods of scuttling spiders.

Cleaving through the stringy meshwork with his wand, Ominis searches and prods and pricks for a loose stitch in the Collector's cunning tapestry.

Soon, Sebastian and Livia will return from their trip to Hogsmeade and Ominis isn't eager to confess his solitary visits to the Room of Requirement.

Three he has made so far. Not only to poke holes in the veil of ignorance, but also to find a way to prevent entry to the Collector's twisted realm altogether.

If the entity can spin a nightmare on the loom of bliss, what can it weave with more sinister emotions?

For an hour, the Slytherin follows knots in the wood to inevitable dead ends; presses against the weathered paneling in search of a hidden contraption that could shift the walls; gropes his way along barbed edges and errant splinters, sighing in annoyance at his lack of success.

And when he is ready to surrender and plod back to the dungeons, his wand pierces through a crumbling plank and hits something with a thud.

Ripping chunks of decaying wood from the wall by the handful, Ominis digs until his fingers land on the spine of a book. His heart caroming in his chest, he pulls it from its improvised shelf, then sits on the floor, peeling it open onto his lap, his wand roving about the page.

Nothing.

His wand pulses feebly against the virgin surface, revealing no etches in the pulp, no pen grooves.

The book is misplaced. Has it been planted there by the Collector to toy with them?

Dragging a thumb along the leather, Ominis quests his mind in search of an explanation, but his conclusions are scant.

Livia described the drove of fingerprints staining the mirror's surface, and it is obvious other students brushed with the Collector the same way they did, which tells Ominis the sundry might belong to one of them.

But it also begs the question: who else at Hogwarts—or beyond—knows about this entity?

Ominis uproots himself from the dusted floor, then ambles out of the room, making for the dungeons with the strange book in tow.

He will stuff it under his pillow and, when the time is right, will interrogate the Mimic at length about it.

But for now, he walks back to the dungeons, his thoughts astir, scrolling by clumps of students and meandering ghosts and flocks of birds as they settle in the eaves for the night.

Outside, the storm is hollering, lapping at the sashed windows, and when Ominis makes it back to the shelter of his dorm, he settles before his desk, then scrounges through his drawer for a curl of virgin paper he endeavors to smooth before filling with letters.

Dear Mr. Dovetail,

My name is Ominis Gaunt. I am an eighth-year student at Hogwarts.

My friends and I gained access to the Room of Requirement through the method you described in your book. Within, we have encountered a sinister entity that branded itself as the Collector.

The presence asked to feed on our emotions in exchange for granting us an object we covet. Once, it has fed on our bliss, leaving us relatively unscathed, but despite the outcome of this first trial, I doubt the entity's motives are benevolent. My friends consider partaking in the leechings, but I know dabbling with this Collector is perilous.

I do not know what I expect from you, Mr. Dovetail, but if you have any information on this Collector, I would be indebted to you if you could share them with me.

With my sincerest regards,

Ominis Gaunt.

* * *

The storm has long thinned into a mizzle when Sebastian makes it back to their dorm. He brings with him the smell of sodden wool, the funk of soot, and a scud of bitterness that fogs over the room.

"How was your jaunt?" Ominis asks him, aware of Sebastian's festering mood.

A cloak puddles onto the floor; a sigh strangle out of a cinched throat. "You invited Livia to the ball."

Not a question. A statement. The kind meant to bludgeon.

"She said yes," is all Ominis offers as an explanation. "If she was yours, she wouldn't have accepted."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means she can make her own decisions," Ominis points out, his mood putrefying likewise. "She doesn't belong to me—or to you, for that matter—if she asks me to release her from her promise, I will, but if she won't, I'll go to the ball with her."

"I knew something happened during the leeching," Sebastian says, releasing, at last, the chimeras he gave shape to in his mind from their bony prison. "She was part of your bliss, wasn't she? Why?"

How Ominis aches to tell Sebastian what it was like to hold her in his arms, or share a slice of peace with her under the celestial canopy of the forsaken garden, or feel the silk of her skin against his palm, but instead he shakes his head, a gossamer line running across his forehead. "Why was she part of yours, Sebastian?"

"Don't deflect the question back to me. You always wiggle out of confrontation because you can't stand the fucking heat."

"What is this truly about, then?" Ominis snarls, the delivery resolutely sharp. "Let me paint the picture for you, Sebastian." He tilts his head, contempt bleeding through his features. "You're scared I have a chance with her, so you show some teeth the minute you feel her slipping away from your grasp. Am I getting hot?" He doesn't wait for an answer before notching another arrow and letting it loose. "You saw us at the lake when she peeled the shirt off my back. You heard her joke around with me in the Undercroft. You're angry I got closer to her than you ever did and now you pathetically ask me to back down. Well I won't."

Sebastian gives an arrogant scoff. "You're wrong on that account, Ominis. I kissed her today, and she reciprocated in full."

The blow lands.

It isn't the hurt that knifes right through Ominis' heart, it's watching the handful of elated memories rot and fall away from his clutch.

Was their time at the lake a lie?

Livia's touch on his skin felt real enough.

Was their moment in the derelict garden a ploy?

Her smile did blossom under this touch.

Was her answer to his request just another falsehood?

Her consent was eager enough.

His jaw tightening, Ominis shakes his head. "You're petty, Sebastian. Imelda was right about that."

"Then join the fucking club," Sebastian bites out, before setting to rummaging through his sundries.

There is the sound of mistreated leather as Sebastian yawns his trunk open, then the hiss of clothes being wrested from a dresser. Books are piled. Drawers are plundered. Hangers are stripped.

He is packing.

"Where are you going?" Ominis asks.

"Why does it fucking matter?" Sebastian shoots back.

Ominis knows he should be pleading with his friend.

But he is spent; smoked to cinders.

For once, he doesn't want to bend to the Slytherin's juvenile impulses.

For once, he'll let him go.

Sebastian lugs his trunk to the door, then yanks it open.

Before he can exit, Ominis angles his face to him, his anger still smoldering behind his cheeks. "I won't be participating in the Collector's other leechings."

He has toyed with the notion for many nights now, laying awake in his bed, tearing scenarios asunder.

If he is ensnarled in the Collector's schemes, he won't be able to pull his friends from its skein.

No.

He will hunt for answers in Hogwarts' murkiest corners.

Sebastian stops under the threshold. The words he serves Ominis are sharp with disdain. "Not even to protect your new flame?"

"I can protect her through other means," Ominis retorts. "Sometimes it's not about indulging someone, Sebastian. Sometimes it's about making the right decision for them."

"How chivalrous of you," Sebastian derides. "But I think you misunderstand her, Ominis."

"Enlighten me."

"She isn't the fragile little thing you think her to be."

Ominis wants to tell him Livia isn't the one he thinks fragile, but something keeps him from adding another score of blemishes on their bruised friendship.

Yet, the next words that leave him—even though intended to make Sebastian snap out of his delusion—only draw more strychnine from the injured Slytherin. "You're on your own, Sebastian."

"I've been from the start, Ominis," Sebastian spits back. "Your friendship was always conditional."

"And yours dependent on assent."

The trunk hisses out of the room and the knob squeaks softly in its socket. Sebastian lingers for another moment, then parts with two words that feel like a severance. "Goodbye, Ominis."

A period, not a comma.

A cut, not a bruise.

"Goodbye, Sebastian."

A candle snuffed out in their darkest hour.

Author's notes

I'm going out of town for 3 days on a little escapade with my mom, which means I'll be either drunk in a ditch or capering along, so I will most likely not have time to write. I'm coming back on Thursday, however, and I intend on making it up to you by posting our next leeching. 👀

If you haven't joined already, we have a charming little discord server that is growing like weeds. Don't hesitate to join on the fun. By the way, we have a roleplaying section that allows you to roleplay with Sebastian and Ominis in a scenario strangely reminiscent of this little fanfiction, so if you're interested it's happening over here: https://discord.gg/FCt7dp77

[discoidal]

Top five places you like to go, top five of your own work, top five of others work? hope u are doing well

omg thats a lot of lists! ok first one

places

1. my own room (after being downstairs)

2. downstairs living room (after being in my room too long)

3. Any Park (with greenery!)

4. kanto freestyle breakfast (restaurant)

5. thin shady woods

my own work

1. this is how we get through this (weird fiction, tw child pregnancy & implied cannibalism: wrongdoing mag, bodyfluids newsletter, kofi, gumroad)

2. she's gone! (surreal short story: kofi, gumroad, origami review)

3. i am gaining nothing from online dating (poem, tumblr)

4. your novel and you (some silly flash, tw animal death, implied cannibalism: jake litmag, kofi, gumroad)

5. pill reviews 2 (autofiction: gumroad, kofi)

honorable mention: elsewhere (poem, aurora magazine, tumblr)

other people's work (it changes all the time, honestly! and im sticking to poetry for this one)

1. sonnet 57 by kim addonizio

2. that poem by jasmine @/candiedspit that i forgot the title of and will add later— edit: title is green taxi and it was published in bodega mag :))

3. that poem by zack @/beautifulminduglythings that i also need to find first— edit: found it! on a defunct blog tho

4. the little softness poem by sam hensley

5. self portrait against red wallpaper by richard siken (sorry for being basic)

thats it! this took forever but i had so much fun ty for the ask<33 ill edit the necessary stuff in a bit gimme a sec

[hinagamoizaf]

Ishida-Yagami House Tour (Part 6) The house already has their personality in it, they’re the adults who picked out the furniture & added different coats of paint. So now with their bedroom, I wanted it to be a relaxing space. There’s a softly lit section for you to walk in & admire some artwork, and then there’s the main bedroom; this theme of dividing sections will follow in the kids’ rooms. This dawn/dusk wallpaper, I thought it was a beautiful blend of not only Yamato’s blue and Hikari’s pink colour palettes, but also gives his cool demeanour and her ethereal energy. Most of the hallways and other rooms have wood floors,the bedrooms have carpet because that’s more comfortable. You might notice there’s a shelf & dresser that were also there at the entrance (even in the exact same position), and I am here to say I liked these items so much, it was like ‘okay we’ll copy it from top to bottom, but we’ll change the swatches’. I avoided using tall wardrobes because dressers allow you put down knick-knacks & they’re not as blocky. Originally none of the windows had curtains,for like the entire house. But coming around to this era of my gameplay, I was like okay we can afford a few. For parts & items in the house to represent the couple Yakari typically I gave Hikari & Yamato white-black-silver, cool tones. As opposed to the whole Ishida-Yagami family, it was browns and warmer tones. Even the colour of the frames from the wall of memories vs the pictures in Yakari’s master bedroom, they’re specifically colour-coded & mirror each other. You’ll see it again in the upstairs office, but like the rose in the corner & bottle bucket, those are items that you gain originally from achievements. So I thought that was another nice memory to add to Yamato and Hikari’s bedroom from their dates. They’ve got a big old ensuite bathroom,and I had this cute vision of both Hikari and Yamato giving the many twin toddlers a bath at the same time.

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 14

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: Tony screwed up, big time. As the truth comes out, the clock finally runs out. Eliza is backed into a corner she can’t escape out of. The situation escalates and is blown into big proportions.

Warnings: fighting, implied child abuse, violence, explosion, fighting, use of mutant powers

Word Count: 7.9k

A/n: This might start to explain why Tony did what he did, or not… guess you won’t know till you read it :) it also explains a lot of stuff about Eliza, so, that’s cool!

Read Chapter 14: Family Line here on AO3!

18+

The compound was still accessible to her. Eliza still had the keycard in her backpocket and the security code that would get her in through the garage memorized in her head.

She snuck in through the woods. Leaves crushed underneath her feet and it was loud, although there was nothing but grass in her proximity. When she reached the gate, she punched in the security code after unlocking it with the keycard, causing the light to turn green and the broad space of the garage to open up before her. She slid in, then pushed the button to let the gate back down. Tony’s Audi stood perfectly parked in the corner, covered by a black sheet with the firm’s logo on it. 

Eliza avoided the elevator at all costs. Instead, she took the stairwell upstairs, through the emergency exit, and across familiar hallways. She stayed close to the wall at all times, knowing that it was pretty much a dead spot for the cameras to pick up on. Tony wanted to invest in 360-degree surveillance, but so far, nothing happened. 

She finally reached his office after what felt like hours of walking through a maze. It was one of many, but the only one that mattered. The code she entered wasn’t her identification, it was Tony’s. The lock clicked and allowed her to step inside the cozy interior. She quickly let the wood fall back in place. His private rooms were the only ones that weren’t under the careful eyes of security cameras or audio surveillance. He cherished his privacy more than anyone. The things he worked on required utter and complete secrecy. He had plans, blueprints, and million-dollar ideas just floating around. If anyone got their hands on it, they could make unimaginable profits, and he wanted to prevent that. 

His computer sat in standby mode on the desk. The wallpaper pictured him and Pepper in Central Park, an adorable selfie she never thought possible for him. She felt so guilty, snooping around, believing a murderer over the man who raised her - but the magnetic pull of the truth drew her in and it made her blind. She needed to know, even if it was solely to ease her conscience. If there was nothing to be found, she could come back to Matt and forget any of this ever happened, but she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, no matter how badly she hoped. 

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

The desktop greeted her. She wasn’t sure when she learned all of his passwords, but it must have been around the same time he started working with her in the basement. That way, she could gain access to all of his projects and study them, if she wanted to.

She opened the cloud where he stashed all of his files. The computer asked for identification again. Eliza was smart though, and she knew exactly what to write. Just like the facts she kept stacked away in her brain, she could remember almost every last bit of information about Tony’s private life, including his digital footprint. She had started memorizing everything to protect him if need be. Just in case she ever needed to remove files or set back all of the devices in the compound. He trusted her. The guilt was a cruel beast. What she was doing wasn’t just unethical, it was illegal, but none of that mattered because she reminded herself that he violated her trust first. She had good reasons for her suspicions. Sometimes a gut feeling is all it takes. 

She scrolled through all of the files on the server. There were thousands of documents, too much to read through in a hurry. She had to filter the most important ones out. Fortunately for her, she knew Tony’s interface better than anyone. She knew all about how he programmed his electronic devices. There was an easy way to find what she was looking for, she just had to press the right key combination. 

She should have guessed nothing would turn up. Not even the files in the vault had her name on them, and those that did were progress reports written for Nick Fury during the Avengers Initiative. She didn’t care about her profile, it didn’t matter what people thought of her, so she pushed them aside. What she was looking for was bigger, heavier. Not so much in physical or digital weight but an emotional one. 

Electrical buzzing. She heard Matt’s voice in her head. The way he turned to the sound he found suspicious and tuned out everything else. She felt the energy tickling the hairs on her arms. Her ears turned more in the direction of the faint sound. Her senses weren’t heightened like his, but she learned a thing or two by watching him. She realized she was growing more alert the more the two spent time together. She studied him, copying his stances and trying to learn how to not rely on her sight all the time. It was, in fact, overrated. Electrical buzzing couldn’t be seen, only heard or felt. And she heard it well. 

Eliza got up. The bookshelf looked heavy, adorned with metal sculptures and green plants. Succulents, mostly. The poison ivy hang from the ceiling, leaves rubbing in her face as she started to feel the shelf up and down, looking for the source of the noise. Her fingers vibrated with the slight movement of the wood. She was getting closer. 

The tiny cactus was the culprit. It hid in plain sight, planted into a green pot, red flowers poking between the pricks. She took a chance, twisted it, and click! The bookshelf parted through an automatic mechanism triggered by the succulent’s movements. 

“Secret door,” she said. 

That’s smart. You learned. Now, don’t be a chicken, open it.

If it hadn’t been for Matt’s revelation at the storage unit, she wouldn’t even have gotten the idea in the first place. 

The small room was lit with bright, white neon lights. Drawers followed along the walls, all unlabeled. She tore the first one open. The paper files inside were sorted by alphabet. The first one was a collection of employee files. That didn’t matter much. She closed the drawer and moved on to the next. Her gut was telling her that this might be it, so she halted and she took a deep breath. The metal felt hot underneath her fingertips. She didn’t want to open it, though at the same time, she had never wanted anything more. 

You didn’t risk all of this for nothing. She was right. It’s time you finally figure it out. The rational part of her usually was. She chose to listen to her this time, just this once. 

She opened the drawer. 

“Oh, no. No,” she whimpered. Eliza was met with a collection of all too familiar names, but most importantly, there was a name in section B that was undeniably hers. And it was thick. There was so much in it, she felt sick. She couldn’t open it, physically unable to, paralyzed by anger and fear. Her hand traced over the label. “Tony, what did you do?” her question was met with silence. Only the rustling of the neon lights was to be heard. 

Confidential, the file read on the outside. It was a red stamp. He was hiding it from her, all this time, and didn’t even think of mentioning it. He could’ve answered her many questions, and he could’ve soothed her anxiety, but he chose not to. He wasn’t the man she thought he was. If anything, he was the villain of her personal history. One of them, at least. He took the one thing she craved most, and he didn’t even care, or he would have come clean about it before she had to break into his office and search for it. Mueller had been right. For the first time, he didn’t lie. He was telling the absolute truth. Her file was there. She had answers. Tony stole them. He stole her life. He stole her real identity. And for what? 

She slapped the file down on the counter, kicking the drawer shut. The paper almost ripped at the intense pressure she applied to the fragile material. He must have figured she would find the file sooner or later if he had kept it on his server in a digital format. 

She was trying not to hate him, to understand somehow what his motives were, but the more she read, the less she cared about staying in his good graces. She loathed him. She wanted him to suffer the way she suffered and then some more. She wanted to punch him, kick him, then burn the place to the ground. He deserved all of that was coming for him, and if she had to become the villain he so desperately wanted to prevent her from becoming just to spite him, she would. He didn’t deserve anything, not even her last drops of kindness. 

“No,” she repeated over and over again until her voice was hoarse. “No, no, no, no!”

The picture of a perfect couple, pregnant, in a house in the middle of the suburbs, smiling faces and love, so much love. All she ever wanted was to be loved by someone like a child is loved by their parents. To think she could have had that and it was taken from her… the thought was too much. She couldn’t breathe. 

She found the fake version of herself leaning against the wall opposite from her. “Well, this is awkward,” she prompted.

She had been trying to tell her along, but Eliza simply wrote her off as a stress-induced hallucination. She was so stupid, an idiot, a fool.

“What is this?”

Tony stopped in the doorframe. His eyes widened like a deer in headlights and he stood there, watching as Eliza sat on his office chair, legs crossed and the definition of darkness etched into her features. He looked over at the open bookshelf and the room behind it. 

“Eliza,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to know,” she said. 

He looked at the file. “Listen, there is a good explanation for all of this!” The door fell shut. 

No.

She scoffed. “There isn’t.”

“I just need you to listen. This looks bad, but I promise you, it’s not.”

“Liar!” her voice soared off the walls. “You don’t get to do that.” She got up. The file with her name on it was wide open in front of her. The family picture on one side, the house on the other, and then there was her, and even more her. There was so much of her, she felt sick. The faces she should remember, she couldn’t even piece together in her distorted memory. The names sounded foreign, a language she didn’t speak. “What is this?” she asked him again. “Why did you keep this from me?”

Tony was trapped. “Like I said…”

“There’s a good explanation? Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep because I had no hope of ever finding out who I was? Who I am? There is nothing you could say that would make what you did any better. I just need to know, did you keep this from me because you were afraid of me, or because you wanted to keep me all to yourself, helpless and alone?”

“I was trying to protect you,” he claimed.

“Protect me? You wanted to protect me?" She glared at him with wide eyes. "By denying me the answers that I was searching for so desperately, I tried to kill myself when I couldn't find anything?" she said. "You know how I felt. You were there! You had this-" she brought her hand down on the file, "and you didn’t tell me? You just… you just put it in there, put a lock on it, and hoped I’d never ask questions again? You are- I can’t believe you! Oh, my fucking God.”

“Eliza, if you read it, you know why-”

“No, I don’t, actually. I don't know why. This explains so much.” She walked up to him, the crumbled picture in her shaky hands. “My name is Alina Isolde Sokovin-Petrova. My mom’s name was Guinevere Hunt. She was an American scientist, and she moved to Russia during a research project on the genetic manipulation of human DNA. My father,” she tore the document from the file, “Is Anton Sokovin-Petrova, also a scientist. They met in Moscow and fell in love shortly after. They came back here and started their little lab in the suburbs of North Carolina, conducting their research for independent contractors. I had a family, Tony! And that family loved me, long before I was even born. They were ready to settle down. They bought a house and planted a garden... My mom died giving birth to me, which sucks, by the way, but my father is alive! I’m not an orphan. I never was. But you made me believe that my parents were both dead, that Hydra killed them.”

The woman in the picture was so beautiful. She hated herself for not remembering. In the picture with the man she supposed was her father, she had to have been at least three years old. Another one was taken a year later. He was holding her as if his life depended on it. 

She choked. “I look like my mom.”

It broke him. Looking at her was like staring into a broken mirror. 

“Knowing what your father did would have ruined you," Tony said. He wasn't wrong. The truth hurt more than she let on, but it also brought a certain sense of relief, knowing she wasn't entirely alone in the world. There was still someone related to her blood out there. As twisted as it was, she liked the thought of it.

Eliza shook her head. All of the information was burning through the fuses connected in her brain. "My mom died so I could live,” she whispered. “She gave her life for me."

"Your father gave you away."

"He did! But he's still alive," she snapped. "He gave me away. He allowed them to do unspeakable things to me. But Hydra didn’t kill them. They never hurt my parents, they just hurt me and made me believe I had no one left. My father is alive, which means a part of me is still out there, a part I could have found if you had told me.” She hit him in the chest. "You should have told me, Tony!"

By then, she was sure the entire compound was more than awake and listening to their conversation. She wasn't even trying to stay quiet. She pushed him as far as she could and she wanted him to break like he broke her. She wanted him to know what he had done because there was no chance in hell she would forgive him after that.

“I needed to protect you. I still do. You were never supposed to find it," he said. He was also growing more desperate by the second.

“Then why did you keep it?” she asked.

“I didn’t think you’d even get the idea to look for it! I know you’re nosey and you’re smart, but God, Eliza, you weren’t supposed to find that, not like this!” He tried to take it, to tear the file from her hands, but she was holding on for dear life. “I was told to keep it a secret,” he said. “I had to keep it from you. There was no other choice! I would have told you eventually, but you have to know, I had no choice but to keep it quiet. It's not too late. I can still protect you."

"What?" she gasped quietly.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was told if you found it, things would only get worse, and I thought it was safe here until I could show you. I wasn't planning on throwing it away, I just needed a place to store it so you wouldn't get suspicious. How did you even-" his eyes fluttered to look at her, not even finishing the question.

“Told by whom?” Eliza asked instead.

He didn’t answer. 

“Tony, by whom?”

“You need to drop it before you get hurt. You’re chasing ghosts. The name, the parents, your heritage, none of that matters! You’re Eliza Bennett. You’re not her.”

“Oh, yeah,” she took the brown folder to read out loud, “I’m not her. I’m not Eliza Bennett.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“When he told me, I didn’t want to believe it was true. I wanted to have faith in you. I didn’t think you’d keep this from me.”

“Who did you talk to?”

“Doesn't matter who."

"Yes, it does!"

"No," the chuckle she released was darker than usual. "You know, I always thought it was a gene defect, but God was I wrong! But you knew that didn’t you?” she said. The paper crumbled in her hands. “You had your suspicions after Bruce took my blood, but there is evidence now. There are documents. There’s a whole fucking process-”

“Give that to me,” he demanded. 

“No, you knew! You knew and you didn’t tell me!”

“I didn’t know until a couple of months ago!”

She flinched back. 

“I had your file for two years, yes, but I didn’t know about what you are until I got this in the mail a couple of months ago. Telling you would have been way too dangerous."

“Dangerous?” Eliza felt the tears prick in her eyes. “How could that have been dangerous for me?”

“I don’t know, you just have to believe me, okay? I did this for your own good. Please, you can put the file down and we can talk. You just have to give it back to me,” Tony opened his hand. 

She vehemently shook her head. “So you do remember what Thor told us about the Infinity Stones?”

“Eliza, I am begging you!”

"You know, apparently, they’re very powerful. But what would I know? I’m just a careless child. A lost orphan, who turns out, isn’t an orphan after all. I just don’t know better, do I? I need someone to control me because I’m reckless and a danger to myself. I can’t be trusted. I’m not made to be a hero. I’m glad I even get to be here…” 

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he said. 

“That’s funny,” she retorted, “considering you were so hell-bent on making your voice heard just a little over forty-eight hours ago. You know what, no! I won’t indulge in this any longer. I won’t let you talk down on me. I think you’re just afraid, Tony.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes, afraid. You’re afraid of who I am, who I could be. You were so afraid that I would run the second I found out what I can do, you knowingly kept the truth from me.”

Her eyes were burning red at this point. She saw her reflection in the window, yet she didn’t care. “It’s a part of me, and if Hydra gets their hands on my blood, they can do terrible things with it.”

“I was trying to stop you,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “But you just wouldn’t listen.”

“Instead of helping me fight them, you make me sound paranoid. Guess what, Tony? You’re the only one who’s paranoid! God,” she said, “everything makes sense now. The dreams, the headaches, the thing with the emotions- I can make people see things. I put a broken glass back together. I did that! This-” her hand glowed, “This is power. This is the power you were so afraid of. I just ignored it because none of you wanted me to do anything else than what I came here for.”

“If the world knew,” he began. 

“What, you think they’d hunt me like an animal?”

“I know they would.”

“Well, jokes on you! I’m already hunted. I’m hunted by Hydra and, now that you have dropped your protective guard around me, I guess the press has the best opportunity to hunt me down, too. They can if they want. And then the police will come, followed by Secretary Ross and the DODC. You won’t even have to deal with me anymore because then, it’ll all be over. I’d no longer be such a burden to you.”

He shuddered at her proximity, the heat of her palm close to his face. It burned the tiny hairs right off. “You don’t mean that,” he said. 

“Really?” she cocked an eyebrow. “I thought that’s what people made from Infinity Stones do. We destroy things. I mean, wasn’t it Wanda’s accident in Lagos that got you so convinced you had to sign the Accords, which were made specifically to target us super-humans, to strip us of our right to exist the way we were made?”

Eliza didn’t recognize herself. She looked so wild, with her eyes red and the terrifying power dancing on her fingertips. She saw herself clearly in Tony’s blown pupils. His fear charged her like a battery. With every step back, he fueled the monster inside of her. She was losing her grip on self-control. She had all of this power and nowhere to go. It needed to get out. She wanted to see him suffer at her hands, no one else’s. Perhaps that would be proving everyone right; she was a monster. She was unhinged. She was out of control. There was nothing to restrict whatever was inside of her. She didn’t need it. 

“Stop,” said Tony. “This isn’t you and you know it.”

“But what if it is? I don’t know any better. I mean, you kept all of this from me. But I could be. I could be your worst nightmare. I was born like this, you know. I had this power from the start. It’s not my fault you can’t deal with it,” she said. “It’s not my fault you feel threatened. Maybe I am evil.”

“Eliza,” the call of her name was oh so desperate. 

“You wanted me to be the villain so badly, didn’t you, so you could lock me away? You wanted me to go ahead with this so I’d go to jail, so I wouldn’t have a voice anymore while you’d make all of this-” she pointed at the file, “go away? What did you think would happen?”

He growled. “This is not over. And if you don’t stop talking like this, I will make sure the only way you get out of here is in handcuffs.”

Her laugh was rough, animalistic. “Cute. You still think you have any kind of claim over me.” Her jaw clenched, “You’re not my father!” she snapped. “You’re not. You never were. You were merely a means to an end. That’s all it was. I never cared for you, Tony. Never, not once. You wanted a soldier, I wanted a father. Guess we were both disappointed.”

Eliza ducked his attempt to slide the metal cuffs from his backpocket onto her wrist. She shoved him into the cupboard next to the door, wrapping them around his own and tying him to the hinges of the door. He huffed. She grabbed his collar. The lengths of his legs began to dangle over the floor. 

“You want me to play the villain?” she asked hoarsely into his ear. “Fine, I’ll be your villain. I can stop Hydra, with or without you. Chances are, they will try to steal my blood to make more super soldiers like me, but there is one thing they don’t know. The reality stone isn’t just a birth defect, I can actually learn how to control it.”

“You won’t survive,” he spat back. 

“I’m still standing.”

“You’re making a mistake!” 

Eliza bagged the file. “No, but if you try to stop me again, I will kill you.”

Halfway on her way out, she turned back to reach for the plant on the desk. “Also, this is mine,” she said. “Can’t believe you stole Gina from my room."

“So that’s it?” Tony asked. “You’re just gonna leave me here?”

She opened the door, stepping through into the dimly lit hallway. “Yes.” The lock clicked back in place. 

When she left the compound, her mind was quiet. She wasn’t followed by herself or dark thoughts. There was nothing but her heartbeat in her ears.

My work here is done.

“Frank Mueller wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t get any visitors,” Foggy fell back in his office chair with a frustrated groan. 

Matt skimmed over the file in front of him. “He must’ve gotten the cyanide from someone else,” he said.

“Who? All of his records show him as a model prisoner.”

“Maybe it’s not about who visited him but who he visited.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here.” He shoved the document into the middle of the conference table. His fingers found the passage he wanted to show him. “It says that Frank Mueller was allowed outside once every two weeks. He was under close supervision the entire time, but technically, he had the opportunity to talk to every other prisoner out during that time.” 

Foggy frowned. “Hold up,” and he began to scramble through his stack of files. 

After leaving the prison, the pair returned to the office. The case of Mueller’s suicide irked them both. They got all the files they could get their hands on. A couple of hours later and it still wasn’t enough. There was seemingly nothing to figure out. 

Except…

“The guy’s spent a lot of time with the hulks of cell block D, lifting weights and shit,” Foggy stated. “Damn, he sounds like you if you weren’t Saint Matthew the catholic good boy prophet.”

“Hey!” Matt protested.

“Sorry. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I just don’t like to be compared to murderers.”

“I was comparing you to cell block D criminals, Matt.”

Matt’s head tilted. In the soft yellow light coming in through the windows, his eyes looked almost entirely green. “Wait,” he said and turned back one page, “Say that again about the cellblock number.”

“Cellblock D, why?”

“Cellblock D.”

“Why, what’s it mean to you?”

“I like to keep tabs on the people trying to kill us.”

“Like who?”

“Wilson Fisk.”

“Fisk?” Foggy perked up. “What does he have to do with this?”

“He’s in cellblock D. I know it because I put him there.” 

“Jesus, Matt, you don’t think Hydra and-“

Matt went stiff. He turned into a statue, unable to move. He tilted his head. The sounds choked him out like a noose around his neck. He tried to filter her out, tried to figure out where she was, where her heart was beating from the last time she called, but instead, he picked up on the scent of smoke. Thick smoke mixed with explosives and gasoline. The faint rustling of fire replaced the sound of her heartbeat. He missed the blowout, but he could hear the aftermath of what sounded like a bomb loud and clear.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Eliza.”

“Oh, God.”

“I have to leave.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No!” Matt was quick to shove him back down. “You need to stay here in case she calls or comes here for help. I don’t know, I can’t find her. I need to… I…”

“It’s okay,” said Foggy. “I understand. Go! I’ll call you in case she gives a sign of life.”

His painful smile softened. “Thank you.”

"Oh, and Matt?"

He halted with the coat in his hand.

"You need to tell her. You know, before it's too late."

The door handle felt like a million needles in his hand. He hesitated, it was a silent answer, then shoved it right in Foggy's face.

He heard him sigh on his way out, "Yeah, he's not gonna tell her. Why do I even bother?"

The sun was way past setting when the cab stopped at her apartment complex. On the way, she called Matt. Given the circumstances, there was only a small time window until Tony would inevitably break out of the handcuffs and she knew as soon as he did, she was absolutely and thoroughly fucked. She threatened him in more ways than one. She had already figured out that his play was to get her off the street, for whatever reason, and if he didn’t have grounds to have her arrested before, he would find a way. She displayed herself as a danger to society and it felt good; it felt so good, her heart was still beating fast with the adrenaline that came with the revelation of truth.

She had her key and a plan to get whatever was left inside the floorboards in her apartment. It was only going to take a couple of minutes.

“Eliza.” 

She didn’t catch the car that was standing right outside the doorstep. Happy stood leaning against the hood of his black limousine. He had ditched his tie, dark bags decorating his under eyes. 

“Eliza,” he said again. She didn’t mishear. “Eliza, wait!”

She stopped, yet she stayed staring at the front door, watching him through the milky glass. 

“What are you doing?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

“Why? You haven’t been answering my calls, you haven’t been home all day… the only reason I knew you were alive was that I saw you on the security cameras at Tony’s garage. What the hell is going on, Eliza? And don’t lie to me and tell me nothing because I know it’s not true!”

She turned around. The look on her face was entirely distant. “What am I supposed to say then?”

“The truth.”

“There’s no truth, Happy. I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You broke into the compound. You cuffed Tony to his fucking office door-“

“You saw that?” 

“Of course, I did. I’m not an idiot.”

“And you left him there?”

“Yeah. He deserved it.” 

“Did you know-“

“About the file? No. I’m sorry. If I did, I would’ve told you. You know, I’m not a liar. I’m your friend. Or I’m trying to be, at least.” He pushed himself off the hood and began to walk towards her. “I worry about you.” The wrinkles on his forehead made his point apparent. “You just have to let me in,” he said. No, he begged.

Eliza scoffed. She wiped her nose, tired of the constant itching and the tears. It hurt. There was still some blood on her sleeve when she removed it. 

She just wanted to go home, but she didn’t have a home anymore, did she? Her apartment was anything but. It was merely a place to stay, and even that she didn’t do anymore. All she wanted was for him to hug her and tell her she was going to be fine, but Happy didn’t know the truth. He was better off without it – he was better off without her.

“Go home,” she said instead. She believed him when he said he didn’t know about the file. Happy couldn’t keep a secret for the life of him. He was a terrible liar and an even worse confidant.

He shook his head. “No, we’re gonna talk and you’re gonna tell me the truth.”

“There is nothing to tell, Happy!”

“Oh, so your nose is just broken for no reason then?”

“Oh come on, it’s not like it’s that obvious.” 

“It’s tilted to the left.”

She touched her nose. “No, it’s not.”

“Okay, it’s not,” he said, “but see? That’s what I mean! I knew you were lying to me.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” she bit back.

“From what?”

“Everything!” her voice echoed through the night. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’m begging you, Happy, just go home.”

“Not without you,” his statement was final.

She scoffed. “You’re not the boss of me.”

He took the keys from her. “Technically, I still am.” He was about to slide it into the look, pushing past her to get inside, but she pulled him back by his arm.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m coming inside.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Why?”

“Because I was just gonna grab some clothes. I’m not staying here.”

“Then where are you staying?”

“Somewhere that isn’t here.”

“Can you be a bit more specific?”

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Eliza.”

She tuned his voice out. Something isn’t right. 

“What?” he asked.

She must have said it out loud. The hallway didn’t smell like it usually did. The air changed. She looked up through her window on the third floor. There was a glimmer of light when she met the dull exterior of the building. Her curtains seemed to reflect something, a steady beeping, a constant flicker of light. Red. She saw red. 

“Go,” she told him.

“What?”

“Jesus, Happy,” she pulled him from the open entrance and shoved him down the stairs, “Listen to me, just this once. Go!”

She barely managed to get in front of him before it happened. The flickering stopped. The windows blew out. Fire erupted from the building as every single apartment on every floor burst with flames. Glass and stone came flying out. The pressure of the explosion sent them flying toward the street. Eliza thought it was enough, but she barely covered his broad back. The recoil separated them. She was smaller, so she landed further away. Happy hit the limousine with full force. The metal was dented. Ears were ringing. 

The asphalt scratched her palms open. Her forearms were bleeding, knees split open. For a moment, she was completely deaf. She blacked out, she must have. The ground was cold yet hot and she couldn’t feel anything, not really. The world went quiet. 

“Look, Dad, I can ride hands-free!” the little girl said, giggling. The old wheels of the olive green bike creaked with every thrust. Still, she had her arms extended to the side, riding down the rocky road in the summer sun. It was hot and she was sunburned, but she was happy. 

Her father was holding the camera at her. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” Just as he was about to tell her more, the bike began to swerve. She couldn’t put her hands back on the wheel in time and so she lost control and landed in the grass with a loud thud. 

“Are you okay?” he asked her, hurrying over to where his daughter was lying in the tall grass at the side of the road. When he finally reached her, her bright eyes looked up at him and her lip was quivering. He thought she was in pain, the scraped knee looking not nearly as bad as imagined, and yet she was crying. 

“Dad, I fell,” she said.

“You did. Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. ‘M fine. I found this though.” She showed him her hand. There was a butterfly in her palm. “I fell on it. I think he’s dead.” 

“Oh no.” He took the blue insect. It was still twitching. “Look, darling, he’s still breathing. See?”

“He looks pretty dead to me.”

“He’s not. I think his wings are just broken.”

“Dad, you’re a doctor,” she said. “Can we fix him?”

He sighed. The big crocodile tears appeared to be his biggest weakness. 

“Yeah, we can fix him.”

“And what about my bike?”

“We can fix that too.”

She couldn’t see anything – when she finally came to, she sucked in a sharp breath. Her lungs protested. If it was smoke or shrapnel, she wasn’t quite sure. She rolled over on her back. The sky was full of stars, but smoke slowly started to cover the clouds. The air was alight with fire. The skin over her temple stretched and it stung; she was bleeding. She felt the liquid thick on her fingers. Her nose was cracked again too, probably, most probably. 

The momentary, peaceful deafness lasted only so long. The dam broke and all the nasty sounds came rushing back in. Crackling, screaming, glass breaking, and the thick, thick smoke of gasoline that she shouldn’t have been able to hear. 

“Happy?” she called out. She didn’t recognize her voice. She scrambled to sit up with her back on fire, but none of that mattered because the man she cared about most at that moment wasn’t answering, and the car wasn’t where it used to stand, just a few feet over, and it wasn’t looking good.

Eliza got up. “Happy!” His figure was slumped against the frame. “Oh, my God.” The white of his shirt around his abdomen turned red. Glass was sticking out of his side. She pressed her hands around the wound. The pain was enough to make him stir.

“Shit!” was his first word when he woke up. 

“Don’t do that to me! You scared me.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to getting blown up!”

“Okay,” she said, “That’s fair. It’s also fair you were calling me out on my bullshit because now I do have to tell you that I was lying to you. Since you could be dying.”

“What?!” 

She used the torn fabric of his suit jacket to press against the penetrating wound.

“Yeah, so, uh, you remember Hydra?”

“WHAT?”

The SUV at the end of the street turned around. The motor howled. She was met face-to-face with a black mask. The man’s entire face was covered and she recognized the weapon in his hand all too well. If she hadn’t been so sure Bucky was in Wakanda, frozen like a tortoise in winter, she could’ve sworn it was him. But there were more where he came from. 

Eliza dropped her head. “I’ll tell you later,” she promised. Though chances were there wouldn’t be a later, at least not for her. 

She opened the passenger door to the limousine and opened the glove box. Her last birthday gift to Happy had been a gun, just in case he ever needed to protect himself, and she knew for a fact he kept it in his car at all times. Thankfully, she was right. 

“Looks like they’re getting closer,” she heard him say. “Like, way too close. Oh, God, we’re all gonna die. Eliza!” 

She strained. “Yep, got it!”

Her hands flipped open on either side of her, just in time for the first few bullets flying out of the machine gun’s barrel. Her palm was seemingly the only thing stopping them from being torn to shreds. The bullets hit an invisible wall as if the world divided and she was in an entirely different universe, watching from the outside in. 

Reality is fragile. It can be whatever you want it to be.

The bulletproof glass of the car delayed the impact. 

Happy wheezed at her from his now lying position on the floor. “How did you just do that?” 

“Honestly,” she said, “I have absolutely no idea.”

Happy leaned against the newfound shield. She told him to keep pressure on the wound. Knowing the civilians, police and first responders were already on their way. 

“Are you in pain?”

“No,” he lied.

“Good. Makes two of us. I need you to stay here,” she ordered.

“Why, I was planning on running a marathon.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Hey,” he stopped her, “Don’t die.”

“I’ll try.”

The rain of bullets stopped. She took a deep breath. This was stupid, foolish even, but she didn’t have much of a choice. They didn’t want her dead, they just wanted her. 

She jumped up on the hood of the car. The man in the mask stared back at her from his spot in the SUV. His gun remained pointed at her. She cocked her weapon. 

The driver pressed down on the break and the gas at the same time. The motor roared. 

“So,” Eliza said, “Do we know each other?”

He cocked his head.

“I think what you want is right here. I'm asking you to take it without hurting any more innocent people."

Against all odds, he dropped his weapon. She copied him. He jumped off the wagon, and so did she. 

“We’re doing this old school, huh?”

She expected a lot of things. Winter Soldier type training, new weapons, brand new technology, all of that, just not this. As soon as she faced him, his hands began to sizzle. The street lights flickered. He was sucking the energy straight out of them. He was charging. 

Eliza clenched her fists. “What did they do to you?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Listen, I can feel that you’re scared. I can feel that you’re angry, that this is all new to you, but I can help you. I promise I can help you.”

To no avail. His hand busted the fuze box and tore out the power lines. They functioned as whips, all loaded and ready to burn everything in their path, and his eyes were glowing too. 

She sighed. Her neck cracked. The crimson slowly traveled back into her eyes, filling them like a perfect puzzle. The magnetic glow reached her fingers. She wasn’t sure what she was doing. Somehow, she figured knowing about her true parentage would make everything so much easier, but the truth was, everything that happened was nothing but lucky guessing. Her body reacted on instinct. She wasn’t in control of this strange power, though at the same time, she had never felt more in charge of anything in her life. 

She ditched the first attempt at hitting her with the power line. The faint reminders of the rain from before channeled the electricity. One step too close and she would most likely end up electrocuted. 

“I know you don’t want to kill me,” she said. The powerline hit a car to her left. It parted right through. “I know you can’t, so why do this?”

He wasn’t going to talk. She managed to make a last-minute backflip and land on her knee. The electricity barely missed her. Her head cocked. 

“Oh, this is so on!”

She threw a knife at him, but that did little to hurt him. Her attempt to grab a hold of his soul failed miserably. He was more advanced than any other Hydra operative she had ever fought before. She danced around him, twisting and turning and trying to elude him, but he was smart and she was significantly weaker. 

Now, I thought my work here was done, but I guess not. The voice in her head was the last thing she had missed. You know what you are now, so why not use it?

She was getting on her last nerve.

He whipped after the black limousine protecting Happy from the fight. Eliza made a stupid mistake. She reached for the powerline, not thinking about what it could do. It wrapped around her wrist smoothly. The electricity crackled. She felt the blood boil in her veins. Her heart jumped, shocked by the number of volts coursing through her body, but the expected cardiac arrest never came. It wasn’t like in the movies when the character steps into a puddle that’s connected to the power lines and ends up as a barbecue for the villain. She gasped. The electricity managed to itch something out of her that she barely started to get to know. 

Channel it.

She reached around the whip before he could pull her in further. He stopped. Her skin was vibrating, the usually invisible waves glowing bright red as they danced over her arms, into her veins, and her soul. She tucked once, twice. He rolled over the asphalt with one harsh kick to his chest. She dropped the powerline; it was starting to hurt, but only because it was burning the small hairs on her arms. 

Accept it.

Trust yourself.

She watched it move around her fingers, jumping like little frogs from tip to tip and then circling back to where it all started. Power sustained her. She wasn’t sure how she made it this far without realizing that it was all she had ever craved, yet all everyone had ever denied her up until this point. Empathy wasn’t a weak superpower to have, sure, but it also wasn’t everything. It wasn’t all she was born to be. It never has been. Hydra turned her into an empath to cause pain instead of using it for good, only because they didn’t know what was inside of her back then. Sometime later, they figured it out, but it was too late already. They were afraid, and fear is valuable. It’s more powerful than anything else in this world. 

Feel it.

“Funny,” she heard herself say. “I always thought I was just another measly Avenger. Guess I was wrong. You know why?” she strutted up to the masked man. “Because everyone was so afraid of who I might become once I figure out what I could do. Hydra burned governments down to gain their power; now it’s finally my turn to burn the world down because this is my power.”

And now fucking use it.

The goons were skilled fighters, she had to admit. They came to her from all sides with their knives and fists. The ones who didn’t get their foot or knee got her fists and those who got neither received good blows with her elbow. She was short, much smaller than the six men coming at her, but she learned. She learned that she was better than this. She wasn’t mediocre, not anymore. 

Cut off one head, two more shall grow in its place. 

The ground started to move. One of them stumbled over the bumpy asphalt. The other was met with a pure energy source straight to his chest. She brought her hand down, fast. The ground broke open. Guns and knives were knocked out of their hands. She had to if she wanted them to stay as far away from Happy as possible. 

The last guy deserved what was coming for him. He was trying to slit her throat. He gurgled as his Adam’s apple caved in. She stuttered. As they all lay at her feet, knocked out and bleeding, the heavy spotlight fell on her. She wasn’t alone anymore. The blood tasted funny on her tongue, almost static. 

The chopper above her head was terribly loud. She could feel the cameras pointed at her, the DailyBugle logo on the side. The light was meant for her, for what she’d done. The asphalt returned to normal, but at what cost? The destruction was all her fault. The explosion, she had blood on her hands. 

Somewhere in the distance, Happy’s faint breathing reached her ear. “Go,” he told her. “Run.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she said. 

“If you let them arrest you, Tony’ll get what he wants. You can do this. You don’t need him.”

Eliza stared down at her bloody hands. She was calm, too calm for someone in her place, and it scared her. What if she was the monster people claimed she was? What then? What if the destruction she was born for would eventually end up in everyone around her getting killed?

“I’ll be back,” she said, and then she was gone, disappeared, vanished into thin air. Not even the chopper could pick up on her signature anymore. 

But I guess that’s what you get for tracking a trained killer - they will always be two steps ahead of you. 

[giffywallsindia]

Top Texture Wallpaper Styles for a Modern Look

Textured wallpaper has gained popularity for its ability to give any room a modern and stylish touch. By incorporating various textures like wood, stone, or metal, you can introduce depth and a unique feel to your walls. In this guide, we explore some of the top texture wallpaper styles that can complement a modern interior design.

Wood Background for a Natural Vibe

Wood wallpaper brings a warm, natural aesthetic to your space without needing real wood panels. Available in various finishes, such as light oak or dark walnut, this style of wallpaper mimics the look of wooden surfaces with a textured design. Wood background offers a versatile look, whether you're aiming for a cosy cabin atmosphere or a sleek, modern appearance. The subtle grain in the wood wallpaper texture adds dimension to the walls, creating an inviting environment.

Vintage Wallpaper for a Timeless Appeal

Vintage wallpaper often features patterns and textures reminiscent of past decades. With a nostalgic nod to older design styles, it complements a modern home by balancing history with a contemporary setting. Vintage wallpaper patterns, whether floral or geometric, often feature faded textures and intricate details that can enhance a modern room without overwhelming it. It brings surface wall design to life, blending a mix of classic elegance and modern trends.

Stone Wallpaper for a Rugged Charm

Stone wallpaper offers a rugged, raw texture that brings a natural element indoors. It captures the look of various stones, such as granite, limestone, or slate. This wallpaper style is ideal for those looking to make a statement with their walls while maintaining a modern, grounded feel. Stone wallpaper texture is perfect for accent walls in living rooms, bedrooms, or even bathrooms, adding depth and character to your space. The stone patterns on the surface mimic the feel of real stone but with the ease of wallpaper installation.

Metal Wallpaper for an Industrial Edge

Metal wallpaper brings a sleek, industrial edge to modern interiors. Whether it's brushed steel, aged copper, or shiny silver, metal wallpaper gives your walls a metallic finish that adds a cool, refined look. The reflective surfaces of metal wallpaper texture work well in rooms with modern or minimalist decor, catching the light and adding a subtle shine. It's a great choice for living rooms, kitchens, or home offices where a contemporary and bold surface wall design is needed.

Marble Wallpaper for Sophisticated Elegance

Marble wallpaper adds a luxurious and sophisticated feel to your walls. It mimics the elegant veins and patterns found in real marble, giving a room a touch of luxury without the expense of actual stone. Perfect for feature walls or hallways, marble wallpaper texture brings in a polished and high-end look that works well in both traditional and modern spaces. Whether you choose a classic white marble or a darker stone finish, this style elevates your room's design effortlessly.

Concrete Wallpaper for Urban Minimalism

Concrete wallpaper provides an urban, minimalistic style that's ideal for modern spaces. With its smooth, textured finish, concrete wallpaper can give your walls an industrial look that feels sleek and contemporary. It's a popular choice for loft apartments, offices, and modern homes where a minimal design approach is key. The rough yet subtle surface wall design of concrete wallpaper adds dimension while keeping the overall look clean and simple.

Brick Wallpaper for a Rustic Touch

Brick wallpaper is perfect for those who want the raw charm of exposed brick without the hassle of real bricks. It can give any room a rustic, urban look while maintaining a modern edge. Brick wallpaper texture works well in kitchens, living rooms, or entryways, where the natural, industrial feel of bricks can enhance the overall decor. Available in various styles like red brick or whitewashed brick, it offers flexibility in matching your existing design.

Conclusion

Textured wallpaper styles offer a variety of options for adding character and depth to modern interiors. Whether you prefer the natural warmth of wood, the rugged charm of stone, or the industrial feel of metal, each wallpaper texture can uniquely complement your space. From vintage designs to urban concrete or brick wallpaper, the right surface wall design can bring both style and function to your home's decor.

[myyrooom]

1930s art deco house in Gloucester, Gloucestershire

This house is a quintessential example of 1930s Art Deco architecture, situated in Gloucester, Gloucestershire. Art Deco, which gained prominence in the 1920s and 1930s, is characterized by bold geometric shapes, clean lines, and a strong emphasis on modernity, and this home exhibits all these traits beautifully.

Exterior: The structure showcases the distinct features of the Art Deco movement, with its sleek, curved facade and linear elements. The soft pastel green of the exterior, contrasted with the vibrant green trim, is a hallmark of the streamlined look that Art Deco homes often present. The large, rounded windows are a signature feature, allowing plenty of natural light into the home while giving it that futuristic, machine-age aesthetic typical of the era.

The house’s two-story layout highlights a blend of horizontal and vertical emphasis, with rounded corners balancing out the rectangular window arrangements. The brick foundation grounds the building, adding a subtle connection to more traditional architecture while maintaining its modernist ambitions.

Interior: The living room carries forward the Art Deco theme, with rounded corners echoing the exterior’s curved lines. The wallpaper, with its metallic sheen and stylized floral motifs, is reminiscent of the era’s penchant for rich, luxurious textures. The combination of the plush green velvet furniture and dark wood accents adds a layer of elegance, balancing the modernist simplicity with a hint of opulence.

The large bay windows dominate the room, providing a sense of openness while allowing plenty of natural light. The decor, including the antique fireplace, period-appropriate armchairs, and wooden coffee table, all appear to be original or faithful reproductions, capturing the 1930s aesthetic. The inclusion of velvet drapes and minimalist lighting fixtures further evokes the luxurious yet streamlined feel of the Art Deco movement.

Overall: This Gloucester property is an architectural gem, preserving the elegance and innovation of 1930s Art Deco. The style is a perfect marriage of form and function, blending aesthetics with practicality. Its symmetry, bold geometric shapes, and emphasis on natural light reflect the optimism of the interwar period, with a focus on progress and modern living.

The interior and exterior details reveal a commitment to preserving the home’s historical integrity while offering a glimpse into the lifestyle of an era defined by glamour, modernity, and artistic expression.