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1.10 / 1.09

[thisisntmyrightera]

Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: In this episode none!

In futures episodes: Violence, Strong language, female main character is considered heterosexual but she have feelings for a female (Cho Hyun-ju) and it is reciprocated, abuse for male characters.

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You were stupid, very stupid and naive, that was what you repeated to yourself every day since your ex-boyfriend scammed you and abandoned you in a country where you didn't know anyone, you couldn't even understand the language well and now you were locked up in a place full of strangers in a green uniform and with a headache you could barely bear.

Why were you doing such stupid things? You should have said no when that man approached you and offered you money, it was all for the damn money, otherwise how would you find another way to get home?

Barely a day had passed, you understood little of the first game where you saw one person after another die around you, what you had gotten yourself into, this wasn't a game, it was a massacre, as you sat cross-legged on the cold bed that had been assigned to you you could feel your hands shaking and you felt warm tears rolling down your cheeks.

Hey - a kind voice rumbled slowly but enough to wake you from your trance to look up and see a boy with long, slicked-back hair holding a small metal tray - I noticed you didn't come over for your food, I brought you some

His equally shaky hand moved a little closer to you, leaving the tray on the bed, staring at you, afraid you'd react

It's okay if you don't want to eat it, it's just that if we're going to keep playing you need strength for tomorrow - his kind but shy smile and his clear disinterest in leaving made you wipe your tears with the sleeves of your sweater, nodding taking a deep breath - Thanks - you told him, trying not to sound upset, because you really weren't and if you were it was only with yourself

My name is Dae-Ho, yours is… 144 - he looked at you curiously taking a bite of his food

Y/N… my name is Y/N - you sighed, hugging your legs uncomfortably and nervous

Hey, leave her alone - a loud and somewhat curious voice sounded behind Dae-Ho making the two look towards the sound - don't you see that you're making her uncomfortable? go away

I… I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, it's just that… - Dae-Ho looked at you embarrassed, walking away just a few steps

You don't have to give explanations, go away - the girl, a little taller than Dae-Ho, looked at him firmly, almost annoyed, following the man with her gaze as he walked away quickly and embarrassed, joining a group of men on the other shelf of beds

you can eat in peace - the girl looked at you kindly while you only responded with a slight nod and she walked away returning to her place two beds down on the shelf next to you

It was difficult for you not to go unnoticed and it was obvious that everyone wanted to get away from you, you weren't like them, you didn't share their nationality, their traditions, or their topics of conversation, you didn't even understand many of them what they were talking about, they all looked at you like a weirdo, like why a foreigner could come and want to steal their prize, it was unfair.

That's how you spent the first night, alone, trembling from the cold and fear, looking into the darkness while you cried silently and the gunshots echoed in your ears, it was a nightmare and that's how you were until sleep overcame you

The second day wasn't any better, you could barely carry yourself, you were tired, hungry and much more scared than yesterday, surrounded by hundreds of people in a courtyard with drawings of children and rainbows on the floor.

''Now, it's time to form teams of 5, you have 10 minutes'' the voice of the speaker sounded repeatedly before an alarm sounded and you saw how everyone ran looking for members for their team, but everyone seemed to avoid you like a plague.

They ran and pushed you but no one looked at you to join and if they looked at you it was to laugh and murmur

There she was again, standing in front of you with a sad look that barely met your eyes she looked at the floor and walked by your side.

Hey… - you murmured barely, only to her with fear and shame - if you still don't have a team… I can join you if you don't mind - she looked at you over her shoulder giving a sigh of relief nodding offering you her hand so she could walk by your side and not get lost in the crowd

Between your fingers you could notice the difference in size between your small and fragile hand and hers, it was big with a different strength and somewhat rough but still made you feel protected and confident

So you both walked almost in circles finding the fragile old woman and her son and then the little girl with bangs forming a team of 5

Again the games were confusing for you, you could identify some that resembled what you had once played in your country but fear consumed you making your hands tremble again

Calm down - her voice again fragile but somewhat thick made you look at her holding the air - everything will be fine, don't push yourself too much okay? Do you think you can take charge of throwing the rocks? It's just a matter of taking a rock, throwing it and making the second one fall, that's all you have to do - her voice was like a murmur trying not to interrupt the game of the first two teams that were participating

Should I just throw it? - you looked at her nervously, looking at her dark eyes behind her bangs

You just have to throw it, it's easy - she smiled at you giving you hope making you smile barely as you looked at the floor again nervously trying not to think about everything that was tormenting your head, in the background you could hear the screams and cheers that the other players made while the teams participated until a round of gunshots made you jump scared covering your ears and closing your eyes tightly - calm down, calm down nothing is happening - her arms surrounded you quickly, adjusting you against her chest, you could feel the strands of her hair on your face and a slight aroma of herbs coming from it - it's over, don't open your eyes until I tell you okay?

Your head barely nodded as you took a deep breath, the aroma of her hair made you remember the gardens where you walked when you first arrived in South Korea and her arms for some reason made you feel protected, nothing could happen to you

A couple of minutes (that seemed like an eternity) passed slowly, people were talking, some were crying and in the background you could hear the sound of the sirens of the forklifts that had come to pick up the bodies, one second after another it was a damn nightmare.

''Next team, you can take your position'' the voice from the speaker again

It's our turn - the old woman sighed getting up while you opened your eyes and stood up slowly with fear

The guards tied your ankles and after a shot the game for you began.

You walked counting the steps, being constant and fast in your tasks, first Ddjaki, the little girl with the bangs did well, then the flying rock, your trembling hands held it strong and letting out a deep sigh you threw it against the rock in the distance failing in the attempt

Girl concentrate, what's wrong with you! - the old woman shouted making your friend look at her annoyed and after her firm indication and walking as a team to pick it up the 5 of them returned to their position - don't fail, please girl!

We trust you… calm down, take a breath and throw it, you'll do well - Your new best friend looked at you smiling lightly giving you courage.

A sigh again, a fixed look at the rock and after throwing it it fell with a blow.

Everyone screamed, applauded and so on again until reaching the final task ''Team 2, you have completed your tasks'' you had never been so happy to hear that spooky voice on the speaker and once the guards untied your ankles they all ran screaming and laughing to the fence that separated you from the rest of the players, you could finally return to the dormitory and finally had survived another day.

Everyone was happy, so much so that all of you were jumping and screaming with excitement, your friend, the tall girl ran to you without wasting a second surrounding you with her strong arms making you spin in the air while both of you laughed

We did it, I told you, we did it right - she laughed jumping with you still in her arms making you scream when you felt the air on your face and your legs hanging in the air

Now, stop it, you're going to make her dizzy - the old woman laughed patting her back as a sign that it was enough until you heard gunshots in the distance again making the team erase their smile and remember the horrible place where they were

Come on let's sit down - her hand slowly and carefully took yours walking towards the bed shelves climbing up and sitting on the steps - are you okay?

Yes… I'm pretty well, thanks for helping me - you smiled rubbing your hands on your legs nervously

By the way, my name is Cho Hyun-Ju… are you? - she looked at you curiously

Y/N… my name is Y/N - you smiled shyly at her

You have a very pretty name - she smiled back shyly with her cheeks slightly tinted - thanks for letting me join you in the game you were the only person who approached me

You don't have to thank me, I think we are both rejected for certain reasons and that makes us unique in the crowd right? it's better to be united and be stronger than alone - your cheeks felt hot, the sign that they were red like cherries

You're right..

Part 2 ✨

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Thanks for reading, this is the first episode I've written about Squid Game and it was short since I have little time to update but I didn't want to go to sleep without writing the beginning of the story, I have ideas but I'd like to hear yours and write them down, just to reinforce the theme of this story the reader and Cho Hyun-ju will possibly have a romance so if these themes aren't to you please don't read it, I know you'll find something that suits your tastes. 🫶🏻

Again, Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon!

BTW: Happy New Year everyone 🥂✨

[venjras]

CHEATING TROPE - GOJO SATORU.

not my usual cup of tea but here we are. sfw, mention of cheating,

his gaze was always on you. whenever you were in the same room, even from opposite sides, his attentive eyes did not miss even the smallest of your movements.

funny considering the fact that he had a girlfriend. you had met him when they were already a couple, you had heard from megumi that they weren’t going to last long. opposite characters, in the worst possible combination ever, the only great thing was sex and as an answer that was already enough. probably the pressure from the parents had something to do with it too, hers was a powerful family that would benefit their business immensely. since one day it would become his.

anyway, now you were at the fushiguro house, you were there for a group assignment, the house was empty except for you and that raven head immersed in books. a small snort escaped your lips, continuing to write down the results of the research you two had taken the last two hours. you were sure that your head would end up exploding keeping up like this.

“toruuuuu, i don’t want to stay here. let’s go home, my parents are waiting us for dinner.” fuck, no. that high-pitched voice was capable of piercing your eardrums like nothing. a roll of eyes and the kitchen door swinging open revealing their figures behind it. gojo and his bimbo girlfriend who was clinging to his arm, almost as if she were an extension of him and depended on it to survive. now the idea of ​​going back to your house was even more inviting. he went to ruffle his younger cousin’s hair, who muttered something inaudible in response. “you’re such a nerd, at this rate you’ll become a book yourself.” he added with a laugh, then pointed his gaze at you from under the thick sunglasses he always wore. time to realize it and the girl was already pulling him by the arm, muttering as if she were a child extremely in need of attention.

breathe, breathe, breathe.

“do you still keep the chemistry book in your room? we might need it for a more in-depth study of the last part.” you don’t even bother waiting for an answer, leaving the room, which had become too narrow by now, and heading upstairs. running away was your only chance, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten out alive. there was something that was digging under your skin every time you met them, you still had to figure out what, but when you thought you were getting the solution it was as if your mind refused to process it. now you were safe, in megumi’s room looking for a book that you remembered perfectly well that he had forgotten at school, the perfect excuse to waste more time looking for it.

“running away won’t get you anywhere, you know that right sweetheart?” the deep voice echoed in your ears, hitting straight to your head. straightening your back and continuing to search on the desk, moving various papers. “it will definitely take me away from the beautiful voice of your girlfriend who, in my personal opinion, isn’t particularly pleasant.” the answer was immediate, spontaneous, perhaps too much so. seeing out of the corner of your eyes that a sly smile was making its way onto his lips. “actually, if you allow me, I’d go down and save gumi before his eardrums shatter in a million pieces.”

you go to the door but his figure doesn’t move, taking up the entire frame and preventing you from passing. now you were face to face, the perfect moment to realize how he had abandoned his glasses and now his crystalline eyes were fixed on you only. bad, bad idea. you try to pass through the small gap on the right but he promptly covers it with his long torso, making your eyebrows gather. “may i?” you move closer but nothing, he doesn’t show any signs of moving back, on the contrary. he crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking at you amused. “and what if i don’t want to?” he tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. you could do nothing but sigh, placing a hand on his chest, trying to move him but instead feeling only the mass of muscles stiffen. marble, that's what it could be compared to. this must have been the result of who knows how much training.

hold your thoughts, hold your thoughts.

“i want a kiss.” he said it so calmly that you almost had a fit, you must have heard wrong and your expression clearly betrayed your confusion. you saw him lower himself to your height, remaining just a few centimeters from your face, you felt his breath on your cheek. “i want a really nice kiss and after that i’ll move." this time the words reached your ears clearly, there was no possible misunderstanding.

and everything happened too quickly to even realize. his breathing getting closer and closer, the bodies that seemed to attract each other like magnets, he finally detached from the doorframe and obviously you saw an opportunity and took it. you took advantage and moved him enough to have a space to pass, exiting the room and with your foot on the first step. “you can do much better than that, toru.” you said that name purposely with the cadence of his girlfriend, shooting him a wink and rejoining the two in the living room.

the cheating trope had never been your favorite anyway.

maybe i’ll do a part two, i don’t know yet.

©️ venjras.

[unknownati]

x. bonnet

a/n: lost my bonnet (rip to my braids) and it inspired me

*a lil sum from my drafts while i force this christmas fic into existence and slooowly chip away at these reqs 😪 and i have since found it if you are wondering

warnings/tags: black!gn!reader, bonnet can be switched out for a durag, silk scarf, etc i js didnt know how to type that lol, ekko's kinda sassy 🤔, bickering but not arguing, fluff...question mark, what is this kind of thing called, rochelle and julius from everybody hates chris kinda relationship, shitty ending idc wrote this at 1am with a t-shirt on my head,

_______________________________________________

a cabinet door slams shut a few rooms over from ekko's workbench, his body jolting at the suddenness of the sound.

"where is this bonnet!?" you shout, clad in your nighttime attire of a t-shirt and sweatpants. this isn't a question new to ekko, you have this problem once every couple of months.

to say you were tired was an understatement. but you'd be damned if you spent hours in that chair getting your hair done just to have it get messed up in one night just because you couldn't protect it. and you've been searching for this thing for 30 whole minutes.

your footsteps stomped around the place, items clattering as you toss them around in wild abandonment in search of this godforsaken bonnet.

"did you check the bathroom?" ekko calls, raising his glass of water to his lips as you pace by his room.

"yes! three times. and even then, i never leave it in there, i always leave it in the same—" a pillow gets thrown off of your bed. nothing. "—exact—" you toss the sheets up. nothing. "—place. i don't get it!"

"then i don't know, baby."

"well, i know i didn't just grow two legs and walk on up out of here!"

ekko scoffs, making a weak attempt at showing empathy. "you have so many bonnets, just wear a different one."

"i can't. that's the only one that doesn't fly off my head while i'm sleeping."

he's amazed at your ability to be so stubborn at the smallest situation. to him, this is nothing but a 'throw something else on your head and call it a day' type of solution.

"can you check your workroom?"

"do you sleep in my workroom?" words full of sarcasm that make your brows somehow furrow even deeper.

"ekko, don't get smart with me."

he sighs, making a half hearted peek around his area. nothing. a shrug. "nothing here."

you keep searching around, looking in the most nonsensical areas for this piece of fabric. under the kitchen sink, IN the kitchen sink, in the shower, in your shoes, ekko's laundry basket, nothing.

you're beginning to just accept defeat, sighing in frustration as you trudge your way back to bed. you pass by ekko's workroom, eyes peeking between the small crack in the door.

pink satin.

atop ekko's head.

"i know you fuckin' lying—"

you swing open the door, snatching it off of his head. white locs fall loose, framing his face. your hand clutches your hip as you wave the bonnet in his face. "ekko, what is this?" you interrogated, an obvious rhetorical question that he didn't have an answer to.

ekko bares his teeth, shoulders pulling into a shrug. he completely forgot that he just...threw it on his head a few hours ago before he started working since he couldn't find a hair tie. "...damn, how'd that get there?"

you close your eyes. two deep breaths. in, out. in out. the second one steadier than the first.

now, usually you were very patient. you understood; things happen. but this? this was your breaking point for the week.

your fingers find the shell of his ear. the sting shoots through the cartilage, skin at his temple pulled taut. he's wincing, sucking air in through his teeth.

"it's like you're trying to test me, huh?

"baby, i'm sorry—" he unintentionally tries giving you his signature puppy-dog eyes. you only tug harder.

"sorry does not cut it. i've been looking for this for 30 minutes, 30! i'm tired as hell, i'm tryna sleep, and here you are playing like shit is sweet!"

...ekko didn't touch that bonnet after that.

[sweetercalypso]

Texas Hold ‘Em || Joel Miller

Summary: when a heatwave interrupts your lake house vacation, you and dbf!Joel find another way to have some fun

Word Count: 2.4k

Notes: minors dni; stripping, blowjob, unprotected p in v sex, pull-out method, reader on top, implied age gap, afab reader, mentions of alcohol and drinking

Summer in Texas is hot.

Cracked asphalt sidewalks burn underfoot, paired with sharp, dry grass that pricks at your skin when you stray off the path in search of relief.

The sun is too bright, the air is unbearably warm, and the humidity is enough to take your breath away.

Days like this are best spent inside.

With an impending heat wave looming in the forecast, it seems like summer might pass by entirely before you have the chance to enjoy your break. Joel Miller – a drinking buddy your dad had picked up in recent years – had offered you a trip to his lakeside cabin with the promise that a cold drink and a dip in the water would be the perfect remedy for the high temperatures.

You’d arrived three days ago, and every afternoon since had brought a thick, sweltering heat that made it impossible to pull yourself away from the comfort of the living room. Even the calm, inviting waves lapping gently at the lake’s edge weren’t enough to tempt you back outdoors to fry under the brutal sun.

The only solution was to sulk inside, bitterly cherishing the tiny air conditioner working overtime to keep you cool. Joel didn’t seem outwardly bothered by the heat, but you could tell he preferred to stay indoors, too.

“S’posed to be in the high 90’s today,” he says, strolling into the living room with his attention turned to the vivid landscape beyond the patio doors. “But it’s so humid, it’ll feel like a hundred.”

You tip your head back and let out a dramatic groan, resenting the prospect of another day spent inside. You liked Joel, and his cabin was nice, but you wanted nothing more than to feel the sun on your skin, to be submerged in the cool, twinkling lake like you’d been promised.

“Can’t we go sit by the water, just for a little while?”

His mouth turns down at the corners, frowning as he thinks. “That’s up to you, darlin’. Just don’t want you gettin’ burnt up out there.”

You know he’s right. Even from the comfort of the living room, you could tell that it was too hot to venture outside. The handful of other cabins scattered around the lake were all vacant for the season, driveways sitting empty and abandoned canoes rocking idly at the pier.

“How ‘bout we find something else to do? Don’t have to sit here bored just ‘cause we’re stuck inside.”

Joel’s cabin was barely furnished beyond the necessities – an outdated kitchen, a stiff living room set, and a couple beds tucked away in otherwise empty rooms. But you couldn’t complain.

No one comes to a lake house to admire the décor.

He perches himself on the other end of the couch and you move to sit up beside him. “What d’you want to do?”

“Well,” he drawls, stalling as he looks around for an answer. “There’s cold beer in the fridge. Got a deck of cars around here somewhere. That could be a good start.”

“Beer and poker? Sounds like quite the party.”

“Hey,” he laughs, hands raised in mock offense. “It’s the best I can do for now.”

Your head tilts as you consider his offer.

Joel was handsome, aged like fine wine with a glint in his eye that spoke of a hidden depth you’d like to explore. Maybe you could have some fun this summer after all.

“All right,” you decide, slipping off the couch with newfound interest. “You find the cards, I’ll get the beer.”

Five minutes later and you’re sitting across the cabin’s small, circular kitchen table, dealing cards from the worn-out deck that Joel had pulled from the junk drawer.  

“Poker, huh?” He grabs his drink by the neck of the bottle. “We don’t have any chips, though. How are we gonna know who wins?”

You place the rest of the deck to the side and pick up the two cards you’d been dealt, fingertips gliding over their frayed, softened corners. “I know another way we can play.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Instead of winning poker chips, whoever has the best hand picks something for the other person to take off. If you refuse, you lose.”

“So, strip poker?” he says with a dry laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. Besides – as hot as it is, we don’t need clothes anyway.”

Joel shrugs and tips back his drink, thinking about the day you’d arrived at the cabin, still clinging to your hopes of having the perfect vacation.

Stubbornly glued to the beach towel you’d placed at the edge of the water, sweat glistening on your bare skin, donning a swimsuit that would’ve made a lesser man blush – he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested.  

“Okay, fine.” He concedes and rests his forearms against the table, a wry grin pulling at his features. “But I’ll have you know, I’m very good at poker.”

Four rounds later, and Joel had yet to live up to his claim. Maybe it was just the luck of the cards, or maybe you’d spent enough time observing the man’s expressions to call his bluff, but you’d won every hand so far.

The first round was a close call – a full house versus three-of-a-kind. You’d chosen Joel’s watch to ease into the game, and he’d stared you down with a fire in his eyes as he placed it face-up on the table.

Next, you’d doubled down and won with an ace high, and Joel had been relieved of his shoes and his belt, which he’d dropped onto the floor with the promise of a comeback. The third hand played out the same way and you’d demanded his flannel, stealing glances at his toned arms as he handed over your reward.

By the fourth turn, you were reeling from the high of your winning streak and ready to make your move.

“I thought you said you were good at this, Mr. Miller.” You bat your lashes at him with an exaggerated simper as he deals out the next hand.

“I’m a pro, sweetheart. Just thought I’d let you have your fun.”

Throughout the round, your attention flickers back and forth between your cards and the man sitting across from you. Joel’s left with only his t-shirt and jeans to gamble away, and while you’re deciding which to relieve him of next, he slaps his cards down with a boisterous laugh.

“Well, would you look at that – a royal flush.”

A king and queen lay strewn out on the table, their stony, time-worn faces taunting you with their triumph. You’d been too distracted to notice that the community cards all shared a common suit, lining up perfectly with the cards Joel had been dealt.

He sucks in a slow breath and looks over you in careful consideration, debating what to take for his win. Finally, he gestures to your top and says, “take it off”.  

Still shocked by the unanticipated loss, you place your cards down with a huff and shrug the thin material over your head without complaint. The sunlight glaring through the windows warms your exposed skin as you reveal yourself to Joel’s unwavering stare.

You toss your shirt at his chest and he catches it with a raised brow, eyes tracing over the curve of your breasts before trailing gradually back to your face. He adds your top to the growing pile of clothes littering the floor around his chair. When he speaks, his voice is low in his throat, like he’d finally understood your plan.

“Just beautiful, darlin’,” he says under his breath. “How ‘bout we raise the stakes a bit?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

His jaw tenses as he mulls over his options. “If I win, you come over here and use that pretty mouth for something other than trash talkin’. If you win, I’ll fuck you any way you want.”

You bite your lip to hold back the pleased grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. Either way, you’re bound to have a good time.

“Sounds like a deal, cowboy.”

A palpable tension fills the air as Joel shuffles the deck with a renewed confidence. He lays out the sequence and flips the first three over, and it doesn’t seem like the cards are in your favor.

It’s an aimless, faceless group, and the next two aren’t much better. None of your cards pair together, and there’s nothing to do but accept your fate.

You muck your hand onto the pile with a mumbled profanity, waiting for Joel to flaunt his win. When he drops his own useless cards in the middle of the table, you look up to find him just as perplexed as you.

It’s a tie.

Neither of you have enough to make a decent hand, leaving the game in a dead heat. All this built-up tension relying on this pivotal round, and it’s a tie.

“Well,” Joel says, scratching absently at the salt and pepper stubble lining his cheeks. “I’d say it’s a draw.”

“So, who wins?”

He thinks for a moment before leaning back in his chair and not-so-subtly positioning his knees with room for you to sit in between them. “I think we both win.”

You take the glaringly obvious suggestion and pull yourself out of your seat, slinking around the table to situate yourself between Joel’s legs.

“Claim your prize, Mr. Miller.”

Your hands sweep over his thighs as he pops open the button of his jeans and drags his thickening cock from the confines of his boxers. Beaded precum drools from the tip as he languidly palms his shaft.   

The sight of his digits running over the length of his cock is hypnotizing – rough, calloused fingers against warm, flushed skin. A burning fire builds in your core as you imagine how his cock would feel inside of you.

“Open up for me, sugar.”

He cups your jaw with his free hand and guides you closer until his salty head rests against the plush of your bottom lip. When your tongue darts out to trace the vein on the underside of his cock, he groans and inches forward in his seat.

“Fuck- take it all.”

You eagerly bob over his length and Joel revels in your rapt attention, in the way you dedicate yourself to the task at hand.

“Such a nice mouth,” he pants, prodding the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek and admiring the protrusion it creates. Your fingers twist into the material of his jeans and you chastise yourself for not starting the game with a bolder approach.

Joel’s hips buck against your face as he dips his cock further into your mouth, lingering briefly on the back of your tongue before hesitantly pulling back with a hiss.

“As much as I’d like to keep you down there all day, we’d better stop now if you want your reward.”

You’d almost forgotten about the bet you’d made, too preoccupied with swallowing Joel’s length to remember how you’d gotten into this position in the first place.

He holds a hand out to help you up, and you lick the remnants of his presence from your lips.

“Where d’you want me?” He trails a hand over your arm, sending a shiver up the length of your spine.

“Here,” you say with impressive ambition. “Right here in this chair, just like I’ve pictured all evening.”

“Yeah? Gonna ride my cock right here in the kitchen?”

You nod with conviction and Joel grins as his hands move to the button of your jeans. He yanks the material down past your thighs, fingers hooked into the waist band of you underwear to leave you bare in one move.

“This too,” you mention with a tug to his t-shirt. You want to see everything while you have the chance – who knows how many times a simple game of poker will amount to this.

Your jeans pool at your feet and you step out of them while Joel throws his shirt somewhere off to the side, dark curls sticking up in odd directions from the fabric disrupting their shape.

He leans back against the chair and holds your waist while you position yourself in his lap, his cock twitching with interest as it brushes against your skin. You’re not sure who’s more eager for what’s to come – you or the man beneath you.  

Joel laments the lost opportunity of taking you apart on his fingers and his mouth, but there’s no delaying the zealous way you sink down onto his cock. That’s alright, he thinks with a choked noise, there’s always next time.

His thick length parts your walls with a delicious pressure, nudging against your sweet spot when you settle completely onto his lap. You’re still for a moment as you adjust to the strain, chest heaving with the effort of keeping yourself upright.

“Oh, fuck- you feel perfect.”

Joel’s hands travel up your sides until his warm palms find the swell of your tits. He leans in to sweep messy, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat, distracting himself with your heavy breath until you’re ready to move.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting in greedy impatience, you regain your strength enough to wrap your thighs around his waist, molding yourself to his frame as you lift up halfway before coming back down, smearing slick over his skin.

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Take what you need.”

Your pace quickens each time you raise off his cock, coming back down and grinding against his pelvis in one fluid motion. His broad, freckled shoulders are warm under your hands, an anchor for the rhythmic cycle of your hips over his.

“M’not gonna last much longer.”

You pant as his hand abandons your breast to stroke circles against your puffy clit, carrying you to the precipice of your release.

When your movements falter and you crumple against his chest, Joel picks up where you left off. He thrusts up into you in search of his pleasure, grunting as your walls flex around him.

Just as he’s about to tip over the edge, he slides his length free and grips the base with a tight fist, rubbing the head of his cock against your balmy skin as he paints the evidence of his arousal over your naval.

The air is filled with a litany of lewd sounds, pants and sighs overlapping in your equal states of bliss. Joel’s softening cock rests against your thigh as you run your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and he flattens a hand against the arch of your back, both thinking about how fortunate it was that Joel suggested a card game to cure your mutual boredom.

[achaotichuman]

Acotar Rant

Whenever I see shit like ‘Tamlin is depressed and wants to die because Feyre left him’ ‘He’s so desperate for Feyre and that’s whats driven him to this point.’ All I can think is, do we just collectively think Tamlin is immune to trauma??

To even grasp this situation you have to go way back before the book even starts. Tamlin was preyed on by the pedophile that helped ruin his childhood who then cursed him because he told her no.

He then had to watch all his close friends die in vain for him while he desperately searched for decades for another solution. He brought in refugees fleeing from other Courts. He. Carried. His. Dead. Citizens. And. Hand. Buried. Them. And he had to do it all without ever being able to fall apart.

The Feyre came along, and he learned to care for her. He didnt want her to just be used to break the curse because he didnt want to just be using her. He fell in love with a person that saw past the mask (both figuratively and literally) and allowed him a safe space. One that had long ago been stripped from him.

Then she was sexually assaulted, tortured and killed in front of him. He watched the love of his life die for him and he was completely unable to do anything about it.

Then he was given another chance to protect her and he took it. Granted this is not to excuse his actions, but there has to be some nuance given to the fact that he watched her literally die and was by the grace of God given another chance.

Then this same girl that he loved and desperately wanted to protect from the same thing happening again, was kidnapped. This same woman then tricked him into believing she had once again been raped by the same monster who assaulted her under the mountain and killed his family.

The very same woman then mind raped his sentries, his friends, and then proceeded to destroy his Court which he had spent decades trying everything in his power to protect, from the inside out. Then allowed Hybern to rampage through, destroying a neighbouring Court in the process.

He had to watch his people die all over again, when Feyre lied to him, he saw her dying under the mountain all over again. And he still went to war! He was spying on Hybern and gave over vital information about them to the High lords!

Then he dragged Beron out by his neck to fight for Prythian.

And when all was said and done he helped bring back the monster that had destroyed him mentally all for the sake of the girl that had killed his people.

Then he left them all alone in the end. Spring was abandoned and him along with it. This man, who very clearly has abandonment issues from the fact he was rejected by his family and beat within an inch of his life to the point he ran from home to the War Camps, was left completely by himself.

Lucien does come to see him once every now and again, but I also don’t blame Tamlin for not wanting him too. Considering even though Lucien had extremely valid reasons for leaving when he did, he still left Spring for dead without an explanation.

In the end, it is not ‘Tamlin needs to get over himself and his ex’ its Tamlin needs an extreme amount of mental help. He is a survivor as much as the rest of them.

Not even Feyre was able to recover from her mental health without a ton of fucking help. No one was, everyone got their support groups in the end

Tamlin went through it all without ever taking himself into consideration and still made it. He deserves to be able to fall apart.

[schoenpepper]

This Fire in my Skin

Intro: You were born with a condition in which you have too much fire in your body. It burns through your path — and every possible relationship.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, ortho's is platonic and if u see it as romantic speak up so i can block u

A/N: This was a request, so I hope you like it anon. On another note, I feel like I've pretty much abandoned that Azul songfic, so I'll finish that one first before working on the other reqs.

Check out Leona's when you're done, thanks.

Masterlist

Riddle knows what it’s like to be so different from everybody else. Maybe it doesn’t seem too much like it (it’s pretty obvious), but he doesn’t have too many…friends, due to his upbringing and the strict priorities that had been imposed on him since childhood. While you’re not exactly the same as him, it’s similar enough. He’s also feared, though less for literal fire in his veins and more for his fiery temper.

He won’t approach you, but he won’t run from you. And perhaps for someone who’s been seen as a monster their whole life, it’s enough.

When you befriend him, Riddle will easily fend off all bullies and haters with a heated glare; the housewarden of Heartslabyul is well-known and not one to be messed with. He will awkwardly try to comfort you and assure you that what makes you different makes you oh so special.

Love is a different thing entirely. Strawberry boy falls all too hard and all too fast; Riddle will hold your hand (encased in a special material) and walk with you anywhere (with your special shoes that make sure you don’t burn the grass). He stays up too many nights searching and searching for anything he can find. Answers, solutions, suggestions, past cases— he won’t give up until he finds something. So when he does (he will find a solution for you, don’t worry), give him your first kiss, won’t you? Just a little one…please?

Malleus is almost the same as you, the only difference being that the prince can’t really be ostracized lest they face his wrath. But people leaving the room you’re in, nervous glances and whispers, he’s all too used to it. The masses are scared of things they don’t understand, and they choose to fear it instead of taking steps to learn.

So Malleus will not judge you. You are a comrade in a sense, and when has a dragon ever been afraid of a little fire?

When you befriend him, most people will avoid the two of you. But at the very least, you will be able to also find friendship in Lilia, Silver, and Sebek. It makes for an odd group, but it definitely stops the mocking and teasing; Diasomnia is not a dorm to take lightly.

When he falls in love, he’s in it for the long haul, though that much should be obvious. Thankfully, he has ways to get around your condition and is easily able to have physical contact with you (you’re probably both touch starved). Nothing too crazy for now, but at least it’s a start, hm? As for solutions, perhaps there’s something in the old grimoires of Briar Valley…he will take a look for you, dearest. You deserve the world and everything it has to offer, after all.

Ace stays away from you at first. And he can’t really be blamed; you’ve caused multiple injuries to others in the past, albeit not out of your own volition. He passes by you in the hallways, a large distance away; he can’t deny the preconceived notions he has about you, nor can he deny the slight fear that creeps up on him when he sees smoke curling from your skin like a warning sign.

You are unnecessary danger…but also a bit pitiful. You look miserable, to be honest. Ah whatever, he’ll be the nice guy this time around.

When you befriend him, you find the joy of being a normal teenager, even if only in his presence. Ace makes you feel like everyone else. It seems like a bad thing, but you’re tired of being the odd one out. He doesn’t treat you like you’re special, or you’re different—he treats you like a person.

Maybe it’s the way you smile at him, or how you cautiously use the edge of your glove to poke his cheek. When did you become so adorable? Suddenly he’s willing to risk burnt off fingertips and singed eyebrows just to get closer and closer to you. What are a few third degree burn scars if he gets to feel your lips on his? Uh, he’s not that stupid. Probably. He’ll pull out the stops to make it happen with no burn scars. Probably (2).

Deuce likely met you through less intelligent means, ie. tapping your shoulder and crying because his finger almost melted off (thank you healing magic). Worry not! It is highly unlikely he’ll avoid doing it again. Yeah. You read that right. His self-saving instincts get turned off because you just look so sad? And everyone’s acting weird and avoiding you or mocking you?

That’s not cool at all. Just because you’re a bit different doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have any friends and stuff. Hey, how about him?

When you befriend him, trouble has never been so exciting. You don’t know what it is about him, or maybe you, but everyday that you spend with him always has something happening. He tries his very best to keep your bullies at bay (delinquent Deuce on). Sure he’s trying to be an honor student, but honor students fight for what’s right.

And at some point, his moral compass started pointing to you. You are what’s right, and he’s not very good with love, but you’ll know very quickly how he feels for you. He’s blushing and stuttering because suddenly, he doesn’t know what to do around you. He knows he can’t get too close, but his hands aren’t in control when he gets the urge to hold you. Please stop him until you find a safe way to do it.

Jack tends to leave trouble alone, and that’s exactly what you are. Except, your kind of trouble isn’t something he can watch from the sidelines; he steps in to stop your tormentors and they flee real quick from this hulking figure of a wolf beastman. He’ll sigh and brush off your gratitude as if he only did it because you and the group were in the way. Don’t be fooled. Jack is a very kind person with steel straight morals.

He doesn’t care nearly as much about your condition as he does about how you’re treated for it.

When you befriend him, it’s a quiet kind of comfort. He never outright claims to be your friend, but he’ll sit with you when no one else wants to, so like, all the time. He pretends it’s just convenient to eat at the cafeteria with you when at least five other tables are empty, he pretends the little trinket he gave you was just a random purchase.

He pretends he doesn’t fall for you in the way that only poems could come close to describing. It’s a problem yes, but he thinks that the biggest problem is the fact that he can’t bee as close to you as he’d like to be. Wolf beastmen are likely very clingy, especially since this one is a pack animal. His tail falls with his ears, but he insists that nothing is wrong. He’ll do his best to make his dreams come true.

Epel thinks these bullies are just absolutely repulsive! But you should fight back too, you know? They won’t leave you alone if the only thing you do is ignore them. Square up, buttercup, he’ll even help you! He gets caught by Vil who tells them (and Epel) off. Well, he doesn’t really have much of an impression of you otherwise. Your condition actually sounds kind of cool.

Can you roast this apple for him like a human bonfire? You can? That’s mighty—oh, he’s not supposed to talk like that.

When you befriend him, well, the bullying might not get any better. After all, you’re a human stovetop and he’s ridiculously pretty, and jerks take whatever ammo they can get. Regardless, he will be ready to fight for you any day! He pulls you into his etiquette lessons with Vil, and the housewarden gets very stressed at your very small wardrobe that only consists of special fabrics and materials that can withstand your body temperature.

Love is a weird thing for Epel but…he doesn’t mind if it’s you. He’s not the smartest guy and he’s not very powerful, but he will do everything that he can to help you. If he has to read every medical book in the library, if he has to ask for help from greater mages than himself; whatever course of action that has a chance of working, he’ll do. Even if you don’t love him back…er, do you?

Ortho isn’t really programmed to be a robot-in-shining-armor, but he does find your condition super interesting! Since his gear can withstand ridiculous temperatures, he gives you a high five while asking if he can scan you. You’re just like that character in Molten Gold: The Sequel! Hm, his database doesn’t have much about your condition. Not much in the way of previous cases, and certainly no cure.

Can he study you more? Oh, how about you meet Idia? His big brother has flames too!

When you befriend him, the strange stares don’t abate, but don’t worry. Ortho has a weapon for anything and everything 😄. You don’t have any other friends? Now you have two! Idia doesn’t have any other friends either, so it’s a perfect combination. You can play video games in Idia’s room with the Shroud brothers as long as you wear gloves and don’t melt the controller.

[kaeyacollection]

Who's ready for my Master Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss Crepus Theory!!

I originally posted this over at Hoyolab and people there seemed to really like my favorite joke theory that Crepus just tries to gaslight the whole of Mondstadt right after obtaining Kaeya

Majority of this will be the same but with little tweaks for the wonderful tumblr audience

This joke stems from Kaeya's introduction:

and the use of the word "rumored"

Cause it's not like it said beyond Teyvat or the seven nations just Mondstadt

And I mean like c'mon how many families are living off the grid in Mondstadt

(Actually... Don't answer that I forgot Glory's boyfriend is just

Out there in the bush with Razor...)

Initially I had the idea of Crepus walking around the markets one day carrying Kaeya with Diluc beside him running into Varka who asks:

"Who's the boy?"

"You mean my son?"

"Not Diluc the boy you're carrying"

"I have two sons? You know this??"

But then the Caribert quest came out mentioning Kaeya ran away from home near immediately and was dragged home by Crepus just as fast and it became even funnier

Cause imagine you're by the docks one day and richest man in town gets off the boat with no cargo but instead a tiny child you may not have seen before that Crepus seems to be very cross with at the moment and threatening to turn him into a leash kid if he runs off again

In a small town that loves gossip do you know how fast that information is spreading? Cause I do and Varka's knocking on Crepus's door 30 minutes later like:

"Is this what we're doing? We're just taking kids now?"

Both paths lead to Varka asking where Kaeya comes from and getting hit with a

"I think you're a bit too old to still be confused about the birds and the bees Varka"

Varka getting frustrated to the point he just starts demanding Kaeya tell him what's up

Love to see him following in his fathers footsteps of stressing Varka the fuck out

And upon hearing how his birth father left for juice and didn't return Varka went

"Good! That was ALL I needed to know!!"

Follow ups on if his father intended to abandon him or got lost in the storm and needed a search party?

Don't care!! You weren't kidnapped!!

Welcome to the knights! 🤝

Which bringing it back to it only being a rumor

In a town of alcoholics, who's gonna call out the one guy with the winery?

Here's some add ons that got sparked from the comment section 😘

Bonus panels would have included Varka showing up with Rosaria one day mimicking Crepus about "wHaT you ForGot I haD a Kid" sparking a trend within the community of just adopting random children to the point posters are made saying "In Barbatos name: See a child Take a child"

Alice seeing it and pulling a "when in rome" tucking both Albedo and Diluc(who is yelling he is an adult) under her arms and telling Klee if she ever sees someone in need of a mom let her know she'll send over the paperwork right away

And then the last bonus: Venti wakes up, walks in through the gate while playing a tune, and stops when he sees the poster, not sure if he needs to start yet another revolution, or if this one is fine actually

I imagine the posters had to be taken down because visitors were losing their kids left and right and the solution of parents pinning a note saying "not dead & still want custody" to their kids shirt didn't catch on but the saying still lives strong in the hearts of Mondstadt's citizens I mean look Bennett and his 27 dads Mondstadt may have a lot of orphans but the demand is even higher

Comment on original post:

"I have a headcanon where Kaeya fooled first Crepus, then the rest of Mondstadt but.this is too funny!! I want to see this happening!"

Which prompted one of my new favorite lines at the end:

"Wait by fool Crepus first do you mean like Crepus finding him out in the storm bringing him inside to ask him where he lives and Kaeya's just

"? I live here? You adopted me? Are you feeling okay?"

Cause I'm absolutely cry laughing over this that's so good but that also means when Kaeya runs away Crepus is just

"hey no no l'm not misplacing you a second time come home" "

[mannequinreligi0n]

Sins - Chapter 3: Penance

wake up priest!vergil nation, let’s get to fuckin’

pairing: priest!vergil/nun!reader

wc: 3.5k

warnings: nsfw! - penetration, body worship, implied self-mutilation/harm

author’s note: thank you for being so patient with me !! sorry for the delay :’) will maybe write another freak nasty chapter bc i have a few unused idea. enjoy !!

links: chapter one , chapter two , ao3

The word ‘late’ rang in your head like a gong. Father Vergil had a strong distaste for tardiness, almost as much as he disliked the lazy and the ignorant. You bowed your head in forgiveness, silently cursing yourself for letting your nerves cause time-blindness.

“Forgive me, Father. Punctuality was never a strength of mine,” you mumble out, preparing for a deserved scolding. Instead, you hear Vergil’s steps stop in front of you, the faintest sigh leaving him.

“It’s alright, y/n. Please.”

He takes a step toward you, lifting your chin with single finger to beckon your eyes to him. The wide nature of your eyes gives away your surprise from the use of your name so casually, the absence of professionalism and humility. Vergil drops his hand from you and offers a tight smile in exchange, his own inhibitions raging war in the back of his mind. He stands there awkwardly under your confused gaze, shifting his weight from left to right and back left before clearing his throat.

“I- uh.”

Christ, Vergil, pull it together. He exhales hard, his clammy hands twitching at his sides.

“…….I fear I have not been honest with you, and with God. Your confession has…rattled me deeply, and I cannot, for the life of me, find a solution that would appease both the trouble in my soul and the will of God. Frankly, I’m…I’m at a loss.”

Your heart falls to your stomach at his words, knowing that your confession was only going to create problems. Your hands fiddle with the rosary around your neck, praying that maybe God could grant you one last word of wisdom in this time of need - you are only greeted with the roar of your heartbeat in your ears. Vergil’s hand returns to his mouth, biting at the frayed skin of his nails, and starts to pace again anxiously. The silence between you two is all-consuming and seems to last an eternity before your shoulders slump, ripping the veil from your head and holding it out to him.

“I shall pack my things and be gone by noon tomorrow. I do not wish to bring any more shame to you or the coven. Plea-“

“What?! N-No! That’s not-!”

Vergil panics and interrupts you immediately, rushing to you and clasping his hands around your veil to push it back towards you. There’s a spark between the two of you at the touch of skin, a small grace in the daunting moment. He loses his train of thought at the sight of your hair pillowing down to complete the picture of your face, his breathing shallow and frantic.

“No,” he stammers out again, blinking hard and squeezing your hand. “You misunderstood me. My issue doesn’t lie with you - it is with myself.”

You blink dumbly at him, brow scrunched with returning confusion. “I…I don’t understand,” you shake your head at him, words barely a whisper.

“Neither do I, my child,” Vergil sighs, his clammy fingers still curled around yours. “I have prayed, and prayed, and prayed to The Lord for answers, and yet he has abandoned me in the dark. I fear that this is a test of my faith, that you are a test of my faith - and I am failing miserably.”

Vergil’s eyes lack their usual hardness, a man frayed to his wits end as he searches your face for the answers he longs for. A single hand lets go of yours and moves to the cross around your neck, his thumb running over the pointed ends of the pendant.

“I have stood before our congregation and preached time and time again of love and purposeful fulfillment,” He murmurs, eyes falling to the crucifix. “I can’t help but wonder when it will be my turn to be blessed with such gifts….But then, when I look at you-“

He pauses, stormy blues tracing the line of your neck up to meet your eyes - eyes that he swore held the light of the morning sun and the grace of the midnight moon all at once.

“-I swear I can see my purpose for living, for breathing, in your face alone.”

You can feel the intensity of his words prick at your heart like thorned rose. It was taking every nerve in your body not to panic and ramble out confused nonsense, uncertain if you’re hearing him correctly. You were almost convinced you were dreaming, but the tight grasp of his hand on yours was keeping you present, if the look in his eye wasn’t convincing enough.

Without a thought in your head, you close the sea of space and press a chaste kiss to his lips, pulling away just as soon. Vergil audibly makes a sound between a gasp and yelp, eyes popping out of his head. There’s a symphony of heavy breathing between you, both staring at each other with fear and desire. You immediately prepare an apology mentally, opening your mouth to verbalize it, but it doesn’t get the chance to come out.

Vergil nearly knocks you off your feet when he dives down to kiss you once more, large hands desperately gripping the side of your head and threading in your hair. Your veil falls to the ground as you scramble to grasp at his garb for stability, lips trying to keep up with the sinful motions of Vergil’s. It’s all-consuming and starving, teeth clinking together and tongues lapping with inexperience. It was everything you had imagined and more, the taste of him alone worth the shame and punishment that was sure to come from such an act.

You’re the first to pull away, gasping for air with swollen lips. Vergil heaves against you, not daring to let go of you for even a second. No words were necessary to convey the lust or longing you shared with him, and with a few passing blinks, Vergil’s hands drop from your face and pry yours from his chasuble. He entwines his fingers in one hand and whips you along behind him, his long legs striding through the courtyard and back into the church. You nearly trip behind him, being pulled like a rag-doll. Words get trapped in your throat as you attempt to ask him where you’re going, but your question is answered as he all but shoves you into one of the small sacristies. The moment the door closes, your lips magnetize to his, his hands guiding you to a shoddy wooden table against the wall. You don’t even have time to process before he’s lifting you onto the table, pushing up your tunic to your hips to stand in between your legs.

It was a mockery to preform such a crude act where they stored the ‘blood and body’ of Christ, the decanter of fortified wine jostling on the table as you clawed at each other’s clothes. The chasuble and tunic fall to the ground, your hands unfastening the buttons of his dress shirt as he trails his mouth along your shoulder with reverent kisses, teeth clamping around the strap of your underdress and sliding it off your shoulder. Freeing his torso from the shirt, your eyes immediately gravitate to the strip of red creeping up his back and over his shoulder.

“Vergil.”

His name pulls him out of his daze and he lifts his head from your shoulder with hooded, hazy eyes. He’s about to question you when your fingers graze over the somewhat fresh scar, making his nose scrunch in a faint wince. Averting his eyes from you, he stares down at your lap, breathing deeply.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing… Turn around.”

You rest your hand on his arm, beckoning him to turn and he fights against it for a moment, a deep scowl on his face. He finally obeys and slowly 180s to reveal uneven, healing marks scattered on his porcelain skin. Worry morphs your features, hearing Vergil sigh at the wall in front of him.

“Penance, for my depravity…for my thoughts of you,” Vergil whispers, an underlying shame in his tone.

It should’ve clicked sooner that these were the makings of a discipline. Self-flagellation was a dying practice, but of course someone as rigid as Vergil would partake. You’re almost too stunned to move, taken aback by the brushstrokes of red.

‘This is my fault,’ you think to yourself.

Leaning forward, you gently hold his waist and let your mouth brush against the scars, feather-light kisses gracing them. Vergil hisses at first, the raw skin bristling at the contact, but it soon gives way to breathy sighs, relishing in being adorned by your forgiving kisses.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” you murmur into his skin, nose inhaling his sweat and scent.

“Christ would come down and dispute that, if he could.”

He turns back around, looking down over his nose at you with a pensive expression. A calloused thumb traces the shape of your bottom lip, his hand tilting your chin back to let the worn-out bulb in the storage room hit your face better. It’s hard not to notice the tremble of his fingers, the slight shake drumming against your skin.

“This…this is wrong,” Vergil’s eyes are fixated on your mouth, transfixed by the soft, plump skin under his digit. “I am undeserving of you, of your flesh,…your soul.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth,” you rebuttal, trying to focus on his words and not his thumb pressed against you lip, the muted smell of cologne radiating off of him, the heat of body between your legs. “If anyone is deserving, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

You lean your head forward and take his thumb into your mouth, tongue lassoing around it. Vergil’s own mouth parts with a throaty moan, reigning back the intrusive thought to shove his whole damn hand in your mouth just to have it touched by you. He slides his thumb out and replaces it with his mouth, desperate to quell the thirst in his lonely heart. You reciprocate immediately, scooting slightly off the table to be closer to him. Hands moving to his belt, Vergil groans into your mouth and shoves his tongue inside, deepening the kiss. Your own hand pulls off the other measly strap on your under-gown, letting it pool at your hips and exposing your chest to the dry air. Breaking the kiss, Vergil shifts back and ogles the new skin with hunger and awe, a single finger leaving a wake of goosebumps as he trails it down to a breast.

“‘You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you’.”

The verse falls from Vergil so softly that your brain almost doesn’t register it, hyper-fixated on his hand now cupping your chest, thumb flicking over your nipple.

“Song of Solomon, 4:7,” you manage to get out, swallowing thickly.

“Correct, dove.”

The smile of pride that appears on his face from your answer makes you melt in his touch, heart soaring. Your own fingers linger on his chest before slowly sliding down to the still-fastened clasp of his slack, glancing between the painful tent in them and his face. Vergil gives you a faint nod and you make work of it, undoing the hardware as he crowds over you, mouth returning to your shoulder to kiss up to your neck. His moan that rings in your ear when you finally free his length makes everything worth it alone, the sound making your heat twitch with unbridled need. Vergil’s hands fall to your hips and pull you closer to him, sweaty fingers clinging to the silk of your fallen gown. Cock pressed against your soaked underwear, his hips buck into them. Your head wobbles back from the smallest sensation, your strained whine making Vergil bite back his own groan. He gives a few more tentative rocks of his pelvis, nose pressed into your neck as he savors the newfound stimulation.

“May I…?”

You feel a hand let go of your hip and slip between your legs, tracing the border of your underwear. You nod embarrassingly fast against him, forehead coming forward to rest on his shoulder. Vergil pushes the fabric to the side and then guides his length to rub against the slick folds, his breathing labored on your skin. That alone probably would’ve made him come if he didn’t have years of self-control to hold him back - the warm and delicate skin of your sex making it hard to form coherent thoughts. He backs away from your neck to look down at you, his other hand meeting your face and caressing your cheek. All he can think about is how blessed he is in this moment, to be so close to the most divine creature he’s ever laid eyes upon. It almost brought tears to his eyes. Almost.

He shifts his hips closer to you and you subconsciously wrap your legs around his hips, ankles locking together behind him. His hand on your cheek moves to card through your hair, pushing back strands that dare to obstruct his view of you.

“Do you recall the Act of Contrition?”

You nod softly at him, eyes fluttering with every twitch of his cock against your nerves or brush of fingers in your hair. “I remember,” you murmur back.

“Good,” his hand between you two positions his head at your dripping slit, not yet pushing it in. “Recite it for me, for us. Can you do that, little bird?”

You forget to answer initially, sparks of pleasure firing in every nerve at just the feeling of him being one push away from entering you. You swallow back the pool of saliva in your mouth and nod again, eyes trying to remain locked on his.

There’s that smile again - that proud, adoring smile of his you’d see in your dreams for the rest of your days. He nods in return and looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to begin.

“My god, I am sorry for my sins with all my hea-, heart, oh my-“

Vergil pushes an inch of himself into you and the fullness makes you shudder. Your hands fly to hold his arms, brow knit together as a croaked moan disrupts your prayer. When you stop speaking, he halts his movement, despite his own desperation screaming in his body to sheath himself.

“Keep…keep going,” he breaths out, face flushing a faint red as your walls squeeze around him.

“-w-with all my heart…in choosing to do wrong and failing t-to do good..”

The descent continues, another inch separating your walls to accept him in. Vergil’s hand in your hair cradles the back of your head, holding it steady and preventing it from lolling away from him. His chest heaves above you as the prayer echoes in the sacristy, mingling with the buzz of the light above.

“I have sinned against you, whom I should love above all things. I firmly in-intend, with your help-“

You pause again, eyes rolling back as he finally hits the hilt. It was unlike anything you’ve felt before, so intimate and fulfilling, like the last puzzle piece of your body was finally put into place. Two souls no longer forming but one soul. Vergil, himself, was having a difficult time staying focused, the hug of your body around him sending signals throughout his limbs. He pulled back out, stopping just short of emptying you.

“-to do penance, to sin no more, to a-a-ahh!”

Vergil shoves himself all the way back in, a growl rumbling his chest. Your vision blurs for a second, the full feeling almost too much. He doesn’t wait for you to keep going, starting a steady, uninhibited pace as he frees himself from the shackles of guilt. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyways - he has felt you, smelled you, tasted you. It was all he needed anymore. The table rocks against the wall, glasses clinking together with the motion. A hand in your hair and a hand on your hip, he ruts over and over and over into your hole, face flushed a sunset red as he moans and gasps for air.

He asked you to recite the prayer, and damn it all, you were gonna comply, regardless of how much you only wanted to praise his name instead. Your nails dig into the skin of his arms, staccato whimpers leaving you as you try to regain your train of thought.

“…to avoid…whatever leads m-me to sin. Our savior, Jesus Christ….Christ-…s-s-suffered and died….for us..”

It was too much. There was only one line left of the prayer and you couldn’t even get it out, reduced to a moaning, heated mess as he clambered into you. Vergil was dripping sweat from his hairline, the beads falling to your face as you stared up at him. He looked like an angel - a faint halo of light around his head from the backlighting of the lamp. Your core tightens at the sight, an unfamiliar buzz forming in your heat from the sight and his ministrations. It felt like your whole body was plugged into a live socket, heart about to beat out of your chest.

“In his name,” Vergil mumbles out, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to finish the prayer and not himself. “Oh, my God…my God, have mercy.”

You mewl under him, hands shifting to hold his back. Your nails dig into the skin and Vergil lets out a mix between a growl and a moan, your fingers attacking the already raw marks on his back from the whip. He doesn’t stop, though, slamming into you repeatedly as he chases that glorious high. With a handful of more thrusts, you’re putty on the table, body taut and snapping as your orgasms ripples through you. It feels like the gates of heaven have opened, trumpets blaring and white light invading your vision. Vergil can’t hold himself back once he sees you give out, the sight of you coming around him making up for every godawful, lonely night of his life. He spills his load deep inside you, shuddering with a guttural groan. Pressed as deep as he can into you, his hips jolt uncoordinatedly as he gives you every last drop, forehead falling to press against yours. His hand on your hip leaves to join the other on your head, cupping your face to his, scared he’ll open his eyes and it’ll be a cruel dream. How could you be real? How could that sinful release he just felt be reality? It must’ve been-

“Vergil.”

His name in your mouth opens his eyes for him, making him take in the sight of you flushed and disheveled from his doing. His half-hard length twitches inside you from the image and you wince a little at the overstimulation, ushering a small laugh from him, from disbelief at what just happened and how delightful you look right now. He gingerly unsheathes himself, the wet sound mingling with the heavy breathing. Vergil can’t stop himself from looking down at where you were once connected, watching his seed muddle with your release as it gushes out of your hole. His mouth waters at the sight, the heady scent taunting him. God, he would lick you clean, if there was time, if you two weren’t shoved in a closet for anyone to walk into.

“Apologies…for…defiling you. I couldn’t ah, pull out in time,” he mumbles out, eyes following the trail of come leaking from you.

“None needed.”

You chuckle, sitting up to pull the straps of your silk gown back over yourself, taking the debauched sight from Vergil’s view. He holds still for a moment before following suit, pulling his pants back up and collecting his shirt off the ground silently. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed to bear to you, but he didn’t know where to begin. He averted his eyes from you as you hopped off the table, scooping up your tunic and pulling it over your head.

“I’d like to see you again,” you start, breaking the silence with a reserved whisper. “Possibly…tonight, if you’ll have me.”

Vergil’s eyes flit back to yours at the proposal. ‘If you’ll have me’? Lord, you must have no idea what you do to him. He has to refrain from falling to your feet, kissing your hand and begging you to come to his quarters, wanting to show you just how much he worships the ground you walk on. He resigns to a curt nod, buttoning up his shirt, “Tonight, it is.”

“9’o clock?”

“Sharp. No excuses.”

[konigbabe]

mosaic of us

Pairing: plaga!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Word count: 6k

Tags/warnings: smut; no y/n; infected Leon (las plagas); p-in-v sex; unprotected sex; female gendered anatomy; rough sex; creampie; manhandling; Leon's a menace and this is yet another pure filth

Summary: Hidden in the village, Leon's condition keeps deteriorating; somehow, his kiss seems to ignite something deep inside you. Something primal — savage in its roots.

A/N: Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. R is for rough sex.

I sincerely apologize for this mess. Divider is mine.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

You notice the veins around his eyes growing more prominent, twisting and pulsing like roots searching for water. It’s as if something inside him is struggling to break free from its confines, a dangerous force waiting to be unleashed. With a sudden jerk, Leon looks up at you with an intense fervor; the sclera now twisted into a sickly yellow, the inky tendrils reaching towards his pupils, enveloping them in a macabre embrace.

The glow of the sun filters through the gaps in the wooden walls of the shed, illuminating the space with a warm, golden light. You stand there, hidden away from the villagers (who managed to overrun you not even an hour ago), as a gentle breeze weaves through the nearby trees. It's a sweet melody that accompanies the soft whispers of the diary's pages, its newfound freshness almost palpable as you trace your fingers along its surface.

The air still carries the scent of damp wood and earth, with a hint of mustiness. The shed’s been abandoned for too long, left to the mercy of the elements. Like a forgotten tomb, filled with the memories of a long-departed soul. Neglected in its wake.

Reading page after page – each with intriguing materials hidden inside its folds, you let the ink come alive, painting vivid pictures of his observations.

July 10, 2004

Today marks another day of failed attempts at finding a cure for the outbreak in this village. The scarce resources and limited materials available make it even more challenging to uncover a solution. However, after much experimentation and observation, I finally managed to identify the mode of transmission – horizontal transmission. The virus can replicate its DNA and spread throu–

The shadow of a figure looms over the creaky door, pulling your gaze away from the passage. Your hand slinks towards the gun holster on your thigh, fingers tapping the handle with precision, safety off. You stare at the door, alert like a hawk on the prowl.

With a soft thud, the diary shuts; your senses stir in anticipation as the door opens. The hinges groan under the weight of the door. Recognizing the person entering, an exhale leaves your lips.

Leon's silhouette is backlit by the dimming light, creating a halo effect around his head. His large frame takes up almost the whole space of the door, blocking out any remaining slivers of sunlight that had managed to seep through the cracks.

He swiftly shuts the door behind him, sealing off the outside world like a fortress protecting its treasure. With practised ease, he places a chair underneath the handle, securing it.

"Shit," you cuss as you snap the safety back on the gun, "don’t try sneakin’ up on me like that again, Leon."

Leon's eyes flicker up, scanning your tense frame, alert for any signs of aggression. He nods, a wordless apology for startling you, and steps towards you with a cautious gait.

Restarting the reading, you skip through the rest of the page, flicking to the next one.

–indicates that the virus' spread is heavily influenced by the host's behavior and their relationship with the recipient.

As Leon shuffles past, the air is infused with the heady aroma of his shirt, like the sweet, earthy scent of freshly turned soil. The mustiness of its faded blue is mixed with the sharp tang of his cologne, reminiscent of the crisp bite of a green apple. He runs a hand across his smooth-shaven face, the coolness of his skin a temporary relief from the relentless fever burning inside him.

Today's findings have shed new light on the behavior of the virus. My latest analysis has revealed that the virus has a peculiar ability to alter the composition of the host's saliva. Strikingly, I discovered that infected individuals have elevated levels of–

Your eyes dart across the page, scanning the words with lightning speed. The words blur together as you scan through them with lightning speed, eager to reach the end of the entry in hopes to find a way to help Leon.

The implications of these findings are tantalizing, and suggest that the virus may be manipulating the behavior of its hosts to facilitate its own spread.

"What’re you readin’," Leon asks, stepping to your side with the knife holster dangling from his grip like a coiled snake.

The close proximity of him allows your arm to brush against his chest, the solid mass of muscle beneath his shirt a somewhat comforting presence in the chaos you’ve found yourself in. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, squeezing it gently like a reassuring pat on the back as his eyes dart towards the diary.

You don’t hesitate to show it to him, its cover slightly worn and creased from your constant handling.

"It’s some kind of a diary," you watch as Leon flips through the pages, occasionally pausing to read it, "found it in one of the houses. It’s written by–I think–a scientist who was here; Doctor Javier García."

Leon's fingers trace the faded lines, the foreign letters, as if absorbing the knowledge contained within, yet the puzzled expression on his face tells you otherwise. The rustling of pages sounds like a whisper in the quiet room as he flips through them.

"It’s in Spanish," he grumbles with a tinge of frustration, his voice breaking the tranquil atmosphere. He hands the open diary back to you before rubbing his eyes wearily.

You can't help but notice the subtle movement of dark veins around his eyes, like ink spreading across a page. They're barely perceptible, but the sight still sends a twinge of unease through you.

"Yeah, that’s why I’m here, remember? Your Spanish is shit."

Leon emits a faint chuckle, so quiet that even in the closeness of your positions, it's barely audible. Shaking his head, he runs a hand through the mass of light hair, revealing beads of sweat on his forehead. Exertion fills the air around you as he moves.

"Right," taking a step back, the soles of his shoes crunch against the first floor. You sneak a peek at his arms; the veins, network of obsidian tributaries, ripple just beneath the surface of his skin, "Right."

"Did you find out Baby Eagle’s position?" you inquire, your voice echoing through the empty space.

Leon shakes his head, causing the pushed-back hair to fall back over his face, before he speaks again in a soft, hushed tone, "No; got a call from Luis. They’re hiding in the castle." His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, and you strain to hear him.

Speaking of Luis–

Looking back at the book in your hand, you remember the last passage. The first thing you read when you were left alone in this shed.

"About Luis," you murmur, your fingers deftly flipping through the pages until you reach the last inked page. Leon’s eyes follow your hands as you open the page, the words there shaky, the paper wrinkled and smudged with ink. It's like a relic from another time, something that has weathered the storm of time and come out the other side. Written in a hurry; but it’s there as you read it out loud, slowly translating the foreign language:

September 18, 2004

Today, another scientist arrived in this remote village. After a brief conversation about my project, he evaded my queries about his presence here. He divulged information about a private island facility and expressed a keen interest in developing a cure for the virus. However, I couldn't help but sense an underlying malice in his intentions towards the virus. I intend to find out more about this man.

Your eyes scan the smudged ink of another passage, attempting to make sense of the faded words, but it’s no use.

Back facing Leon, you speak, "That’s gotta be Luis, right?," voice filled with suspicion, "Two weeks ago, this García met Luis and now he’s gone. His personal belongings are all here - don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

A low groan interrupts your train of thought, causing you to furrow your brow.

"Leon?"

You turn around and watch as Leon stands a mere footstep before you. Palm resting on his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, you feel your heartbeat pick up; the veins now spreading like poison ivy, creating an intriguing mosaic. The ebony tendrils slither over his skin, covering his neck and sneaking inside the folds of his dirty shirt.

Another guttural growl emanates from his throat, so animalistic and raw that it sends shivers down your spine. Your hand instinctively reaches for Leon's blade, which was left on the table moments ago, while your other hand grips the wooden surface to steady yourself.

"Leon," you repeat in hopes to reach the man’s attention, "what’s wrong?"

Your attempts to reach him prove futile; you stand patiently, gaze firmly following his every movement–with a precise step, you stroll in front of him. Another guttural sound finds its way out of Leon as he moves his hands to his temples, pushing against the thin skin as if he could alleviate a headache.

As you watch, the veins around his eyes grow more prominent, twisting and pulsing like roots searching for water. Something inside him seems to be struggling to break free, a dangerous force waiting to be unleashed. With a sudden jerk, Leon looks up at you with an intense fervor; the sclera now twisted into a sickly yellow, the inky tendrils reaching towards his pupils, enveloping them in a macabre embrace.

"Leon!"

You take a step back as he lunges forward, his movements erratic and uncontrolled.

Anticipating a strike, you raise the knife, its point aimed at Leon’s upper body. Your heart jackhammer in your chest, you brace yourself for the attack; muscles coiled and ready for defence. But before you can make a move, Leon's hand is already on your wrist, his grip vice-like as he twists the blade away from you. You gasp in pain, feeling the sharp sting of the metal cutting into your skin.

The ground feels gritty beneath your feet as you struggle to maintain your balance, trying to free yourself from Leon's grasp. But the man seems to be in complete control, his movements fluid and effortless. Your heart races faster as you realize the danger you're in. This man could easily overpower you, could easily harm you if he wanted to.

A pained gasp leaves your tightening throat as Leon’s hot breath fans over your face. And then, without warning, his lips crash against yours.

It’s messy. Needy.

Wet.

Taken by surprise, your mind races; struggling to make sense of what’s happening. The taste of his lips is familiar, certainly not the first time he kissed you. But never like that – and never when infected.

You can taste the slight tinge of mint on his tongue as it sneaks inside your mouth. His hands, strong and calloused, grip your jaw, tilting your head as his hips back you against the table. Leon’s body easily keeps yours restrained, his body heat almost scorching you. You can feel his every move, every twitch of a muscle, every shiver that runs down his spine. It's like being consumed by a wild, untamed force that you can't resist.

The dominance in his behavior, the way he takes control and leaves you powerless and vulnerable; it all makes your mind fuzzy. A blank canvas.

For a moment, everything fades away–

–until the realization hits you.

He’s infected.

Pressing your palms firmly against his chest, your body freezes momentarily upon feeling the taut muscles of his breastplates before you push with all your might. He barely budges. Yet, when your lips momentarily separate, you manage to call out to him one more time, "Leon!"

His eyes open. Now clear, back to the blue as a tranquil ocean on a sunny day, the agitated storm within them subsided. He looks back at you.

"I’m so sorry," he mutters, his voice low and hoarse. You can see the fatigue etched into his features, the bags under his eyes betraying his lack of sleep. As he meets your gaze, his eyes plead for your understanding.

The sound of his groan echoes in your ears as you watch him crumble before you, his once-strong body now appearing weak. The taste of his kiss still lingers on your lips, a bittersweet reminder of what has just transpired. The dust swirls around him, adding to the already chaotic scene. You can feel your heart racing, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you try to catch your breath.

"Fuck, Leon," you hurry towards him.

You kneel beside him, eyes scanning his face for any signs of consciousness. His lips, bruised and swollen, part lightly as he takes a laboured breath. You can see the pain etched on his features, the lines on his forehead deepening with each passing second.

Minutes flow as you sit by Leon’s side, watching the dark veins fade slowly as he regains his strength. His chest rises and falls steadily now, the rest of his gear lying on the table alongside your gun. You take in the sight of him, his rugged features softened in the moonlight. His hair, disheveled and covered in dust, frames his face like a wild mane, adding to his already striking appearance.

You reach out to brush a strand away from his forehead, your fingertips tracing the curve of his cheekbone, tracing the areas recently covered in ebony veins.

As you sit there, the sounds of the night surround you–the chirping of crickets, the whispering of leaves in the wind. A cool breeze washes over you, the scent of earth and foliage filling your nostrils. You take a deep breath, the freshness of the air soothing your nerves.

But despite the calming surroundings, the sensation within you is like a storm raging inside, the winds tossing and turning your thoughts. Your body feels like a furnace, burning with a heat that can't be quenched. Heart beating faster, the thumping becoming almost unbearable as your body begins to ache with a deep, pulsing desire.

You try to shake it off, thinking it's just the adrenaline still coursing through your system, but the sensation only intensifies. Focusing on the sounds of the night, hoping they’ll calm down the tempest within; but even the gentle rustling of trees sounds like a deafening roar. The once refreshing gust that swept over you now feels like a tantalizing stroke, sending your nerves alight.

Confusion sets in as you start to feel an uncontrollable need for Leon, a hunger that you can't explain. You try to push it away, but the urge grows stronger with each passing moment until it consumes you completely. You begin to tremble, feeling as if you're on the brink of losing control.

You look down at Leon, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed. The urge like a vine, coiling around your body, tightening its grip with every passing second.

Hand reaching towards Leon’s, your fingers skim over his naked palm, the gloves previously protecting his hands now discarded on the table. His skin is cold to the touch, a stark contrast to the feverish heat that consumes your own body. Just as you’re about to give in to the fear, a twitch in Leon's hand catches your attention. His fingers curl around yours, gripping them tightly. His eyes slowly flutter open, revealing a deep shade of blue that glistens in the moonlight.

"You had me worried there for a moment," you say with a tight-lipped smile, elbows resting on your knees, fingers digging into the naked flesh there.

You feel like you’re burning. Hot coals pressed into your skin.

You take in his appearance, the way his hair’s matted and sticking to his forehead. Sweat beads on his skin, a testament to the fever that has been plaguing him. His skin’s still pale, but his eyes are no longer clouded with ferocity. They seem clear, focused, and alert.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs again, but this time his voice is stronger, more resolute, "I don’t know what that was."

"Don’t be," you reply gently. You try to comfort him with your words, hoping to ease his troubled mind.

"Let’s just find you a cure."

He nods before sitting up, his movements slow and deliberate. He looks fragile, like a delicate flower that might break with the slightest breeze.

"How long was I out?"

You let out a shaky breath, relieved that he's awake. "Not long," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze returns to him, studying his features with an intensity that you can't explain. The sharp planes of his face, the way his jaw tenses as he speaks, the curve of his lips. You try to push the thoughts away, but they persist, like a buzzing fly that won't leave you alone.

"You good to get up?"

"Yeah," Leon exhales.

Dusting the dirt off your knees, you get up and reach out, helping him prop himself up, his body leaning against yours. The heat from his skin seeps into yours, soothing the burning that has been coursing through your veins–

–which doesn’t go unnoticed.

"You’re burning up," he notes. His knuckles lightly press onto the side of your neck, against the jugular vein. Heart thumping, you swallow as you feel the uncomfortable ache between your legs only intensify the longer Leon’s hand remains on your throat.

"Your heart rate’s elevated," his hand finally leaves your skin, "something’s wrong."

With a firm grasp on your upper arm and without much struggle from your side, he beckons you onto the table decorated with all your gear. Skin pricklening with sensation as he guides you onto the table – it’s old wooden surface creaking slightly underneath your weish as you settle onto its surface, feeling the rough wood groan underneath your palms.

The firm press of his hands on your ribcage is like a spark to a fuse, igniting a flame within you. The heat spreads throughout your body, intensifying with each passing moment. You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the wave of desire that threatens to consume you.

"I’m alright," you assure him, trying to maintain your composure; yet you allow him his hands to roam over your body as if you were actually hurt.

Leon's eyes bore into yours, intense and unwavering. His sharp gaze betrayed his concern, a worry etched into the creases of his forehead. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing that he was only looking out for you.

As you gaze at him, you notice the veins slowly returning to his skin; slowly faded over, the pinkish hue underneath his eyes seems to conceal them, but only from afar. Up close, you can see the delicate tracery of veins pulsating just beneath the surface of his skin.

"Are you sure?"

There’s worry evident in his voice as he rests his palms next to yours, enclosing you in his arms.

The weight of his touch’s comforting your heating body.

Your hand moves like a feather, tracing the intricate network of veins spreading across the contours of his face; his eyes flicker down, on your legs, as you stay mesmerized (and slowly being consumed by the raw power of your desire) by the way the veins seems to gain color, fill into the same darkness they were before, underneath your touch. As if they were following your lead.

Leon’s breath quickens as you continue. You try to steady yourself, to push back against the growing tide of desire that threatens to overwhelm you, but it's no use.

Leon's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and unwavering as the color regains its sickly yellow tone, thin black veins dancing inside his irises like ink on paper. You can see the concern there, the worry that something might be wrong, but you also see something else. Something that sends a thrill through you despite the situation. He's looking at you like he wants you, like he's been waiting for this moment for ages.

The air thinkens with a palpable tension as you both hold each other’s gaze, lost in the charged atmosphere between you. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the electricity in the air, the way your heart races in your chest.

"I’m fine," a faint breath leaves your parted lips when your thumb reaches the slightly wider black vein leading towards his lower lip.

Everything after that seems like a haze. As if you’re observing from afar. Watching a play unfold from the balcony. Detached.

Your lips lock with Leon’s with a wild, raw passion.

It’s fervent.

Intense and fueled by a primal yearning that’s been brewing inside you ever since he kissed you a mere hour ago. Your hands grip Leon’s shoulders, steadying yourself against the mass of muscle standing between your legs.

His kisses are searing – cardinal, almost animalistic and completely uncontrolled; fueled by crude desire that seems to consume him fully. He kisses you with reckless abandon, as if he can't get enough of you. His lips are hot and wet against yours, his breath ragged, and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he presses himself against you. It's like he's trying to meld his body with yours, to become one with you, and the sheer intensity of it all is almost too much to bear.

Leon’s hand roam over your body with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. Guttural, deep grunts reverberate through your body.

Hands reaching between your bodies, you tug at the shirt covering his torso – the fabric slides over his head like a curtain revealing a work of art. Taut muscles and veins ripple beneath his skin; your eyes pierce into his chest, the mosaic of black veins creating a network of rivers.

As you trace your fingertips over his skin, every nerve ending seems to come alive, humming with a primal energy that electrifies your senses. The heat emanating from his body is like a flame, casting flickering shadows across the walls of the room; his skin’s like silk, soft to the touch, but strong and sturdy underneath.

The scent of sweat and musk fills your nostrils, overwhelming and intoxicating, pulling you in even closer to him. It's like a drug, addicting and heady, and you can't seem to get enough of it. As you run your hands over his chest, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch, you can feel yourself losing control, your body responding to his in the most sensuous way.

Your shirt soon follows Leon's, falling to the ground in a heap as you find yourself back in the kiss. It's like a symphony of tangled limbs, gasping breaths, and frenzied moans, each one building on the last until you're both lost in a wild, primal dance.

"Fuck–"

Everything seems brumous.

A cloud of haze covering your brain.

Feeling the wetness pool between your legs, heart beating heavy and strong against your ribcage, Leon’s name escapes your mouth as his lips move down your neck, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses in their wake; the scrape of his teeth against your skin, nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

As Leon's fingers trace the contours of your curves, the sound of your ragged breaths fills the room, intermingling with the sound of his own. You find yourself lost in the sensation of his touch, the way his fingers seem to know exactly where to go, where to press, where to tease.

Your bodies collide with a force that leaves you gasping for air. Like the collision of two stars, sending shockwaves through the universe.

Unbridled desire. Wild, untamed dance of bodies.

No longer two separate beings, but a single entity, fused together in a frenzy of passion.

Leon's hands move with a speed and precision that makes your head spin, as he undresses you with an urgency that feels primal. His lips, soft yet insistent, cover yours in a heady, dizzying kiss that leaves you breathless.

It's overwhelming, intoxicating, and all-consuming–

–addicting.

The room spins as you lose yourself in the frenzy of desire. Every touch, every kiss, every breath ignites a fire deep within you, a hunger that can only be sated by this man before you.

His fingers find your cunt–wet, completely soaked as if you’ve already being fucked; yet he hasn’t even touched you.

"Jesus Christ," Leon groans upon the feeling of your slick walls enveloping his fingers, "you’re already soaked."

Head tilted back, your hips buck into his hand as he traces the length of your cunt, pressing his thumb against your aching clit. Pain shoots up your body, spreading like venom. It's almost too much, the intensity of it all, but you find yourself craving more, unable to resist the addictive pull that Leon has over you.

Sweet as poison.

A plague.

The tension in your muscles melts away with each inch of Leon’s fingers sinking inside you; a groan escapes your lips as sense of release washes over you; the tension in your body melts away, like ice thawing under a warm sun. Eyes closed, you focus on the sensation of Leon’s fingers pushing deeper, stretching you in a way that feels both strange and satisfying.

Your mind is clouded with a dizzying cocktail of lust and desire as Leon takes control, his touch igniting a fierce hunger that you can't ignore.

Your hand grips his hair, feeling the strands slipping between your fingers like silk. You pull him towards you, wanting to be as close to him as possible. His eyes meet yours, and you see the intensity in them, a hunger that matches your own.

"Fuck me, Leon—"

The words spill out of your mouth before you can even think. Your body has taken over, consumed by a desire that you can no longer control.

—you just can't help yourself anymore.

As Leon strips down, piece by piece, you find yourself drawn to the way his body moves with such fluidity. Your eyes take in every inch of him, from the rippling muscles to the way the light dances across his skin. Leon’s body completely covered by the system of ebony veins, your eyes following the lines for a second.

It's as if his body was made to be admired, and you find yourself doing just that.

The vulnerability of the moment is not lost on you, and the thrill of it all sends a jolt of excitement racing through your veins. Here you are, both of you completely naked, with nothing to hide. It's as if you've shed your layers of clothing and your inhibitions along with it, leaving only raw desire in its wake. The air between you is charged, electrified with anticipation and lust, and you can't wait to explore every inch of him.

Leon follows your order. Hand wrapping around his throbbing cock, your legs spread wider to accomodate his hips. Your eyes fixate on the thick, pulsating vein that runs along his length, now pitch black in color; like a lightning strike, surrounded by smaller ebony veins.

With each pump of his hand, the bulging head glistens with precum, taunting your hungry cunt.

His name leaves your mouth in a gasp as the tip brushes against your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His eyes meet yours, dark with desire and a hint of mischief, as he teases your entrance with the blunt head of his cock. His hips move forward, the tip disappearing inside you, stretching you wide with a delicious ache.

His arm reaches forward; guiding you down to lie onto the rough surface of the wooden table as he slowly splits you apart. The bark of the table scratches against your skin, adding an edge to the pleasure that courses through your body.

Once fully buried inside you, he stills.

Only momentarily.

As he sinks deeper, Leon's hand finds your collarbone, securing his grip. The roughness of his thumb grazes the sensitive skin of your throat as his hand sneaks underneath your knee to bring your legs higher – wrapping them around the narrow of his waist, you urge him deeper while wrapping your fingers around his forearm, feeling the muscles tense, veins darken.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare into Leon's eyes, now obscured by the black veins that writhe across the blue irises. The intensity of his gaze burns through you, stoking the flames of your desire to a fever pitch.

With a fierce growl, he ruts against you. Wild.

Leon’s a primal force, a beast unleashed, and you revel in the raw, savage power of his movements. His grip on your collarbone is almost painful, but you crave the sensation, the way it anchors you to the earth as he pounds into you with abandon.

Like an animal focused on breeding; there’s nothing but pure ferocity in the way his hips snaps against you–

– and you welcome it. Meeting his thrust.

The rough bark of the wooden table digs into your skin, but you barely register the pain as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Letting him absolute ravage you. Bring you to the brink of ecstasy way too soon. The smooth, velvety skin of his cock slides in and out of you, hitting all the right spots with unerring accuracy. You can feel the heat building inside you, the coil of pleasure winding tighter until it's all you can do to hold on.

The sight of him, his eyes dark and wild, the veins snaking across his skin like living things, only serves to stoke the fire inside you Moans mix with guttural noises; grunt, growls. Everything mixes together in one dance of primal breed.

Cock-drunk.

Fucked stupid.

That’s how you’d described the feeling when his thumb presses against the front of your throat, hooks underneath the necklace he gave you to your first anniversary.

String of curses, incoherent sentences and something vaguely resembling your name leaves Leon’s lips, painted over with black veins, eyes wide open and staring straight at you. His hand moves to toy with your clit; yet just the single flick, the rough touch uncoils the tightness inside your abdomen. Mouth open, back arched, a silent scream pushes itself out your throat.

But Leon doesn’t stop. The way your walls flutter, squeeze his cock only add to the primarity of it all. Securing his hand behind your neck, he lifts your body up, lips connecting with yours in a heated kiss as his thrusts increase.

A pathetic whine leaves your lips when he pulls back completely. Hands gripping your sides, you gasp when he single-handedly turns you around. Pain shoots through your body as he slams back inside you in one single thrust.

The table creaks and groans beneath the weight of your bodies as Leon relentlessly pounds into you.

His hips meet the flesh of your ass every time his cock kisses your womb – at least that’s how deep he feels. The air thick with the scent of sex, you groan when Leon’s hands grip your hips, forcefully pulling you towards his snapping hips to meet his thrust.

Slick with sweat, you can feel his body heat radiating against your own.

You reach one hand behind you in a feeble attempt to feel him underneath your palms. Nails digging into the wood, your fingers manage to sneak into his hair; grabbing a fistful, you force his face towards yours.

The muscles in your neck strain painfully as you tilt your head to the side to connect your lips in a teeth-clashing kiss – all while Leon’s hand sneak to tease your oversensitive clit while the other covers your hand on the table.

Meeting his thrusts, you stay in rhythm as you feel your high approaching again. Spreading your legs more apart, arching your back, the new angle allows Leon to hit deeper. To split you apart.

"Fuck!"

The pain mixes with pleasure, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy.

"Oh my god–"

His teeth sink into your flesh, the stinging ache sends you over the edge. It feels almost as if he managed to break the skin atop. With each thrust, it felt like he was hammering against the tight seal of her womb, trying to break through it with sheer force.

The room echoes with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he relentlessly pounds into you. His cock feels like a battering ram, delivering a punishing blow with every thrust. You can feel the impact reverberate through your body, causing you to shudder and gasp for air. It's as if he's trying to breach the walls of your very being, to leave his mark on you in the most primal and intimate way possible.

"Fuck; Leon–’m gonna cum–gonna–"

You feel your cunt pulce around him, like a drumbeat racing against his teeth sinking into your delicate skin. A surge of ecstasy floods your veins, a heady cocktail of pleasure and victory that weighs heavily on your mind like an anchor.

You arch your back, pushing against his chest and whispering his name into the frosty night air as his thrusts become unsteady.

Leon's tongue traces the bite mark he left on you, hands gripping you tightly as he drives himself deeper into your slick heat. His groans mix with the sound of flesh smacking together, his balls slapping against your wetness with each thrust. You cry out as he sends you spiraling into another wave of pleasure.

As he moves inside you, you can feel every inch of him. His muscles ripple against your skin and his breath is hot on your neck. His hands grip you tightly, pulling you closer and deeper onto him.

You convulse around him, your body responding to his every touch. His groans intensify, as he thrusts even harder into you, giving into the raw passion between you. He pulses deep inside of you, filling you up with his warmth.

"Fuck!"

As he moans out your name, his lips trace a path across your skin leaving a trail of wetness. You can feel the heat emanating from his hands as he grips you tightly, branding you with his touch. His body trembles as he savors the last remnants of pleasure, and the evidence of his desire stains your insides like a lustrous sheen of polished marble.

He’s branded you inside and out.

Infected you with his venom.

Your skin is hypersensitive to his touch, as if each nerve is its own entity, firing off signals that jolt through your entire body. The dull ache of pleasure and pain radiates from the points where he grips you, leaving you feeling like a canvas painted in shades of blue and purple–

–and black.

As his weight presses down on you, you feel a dull ache spread through your body, every nerve ending alive and sensitized from his touch. You can still feel the ghostly imprint of his fingers on your skin, branding you with his touch.

His forehead is hot against your shoulder, the dampness of his breath tickling your skin as he rides out the last waves of his release. Each thrust feels like a punch to your gut, leaving you reeling and gasping for air.

The sticky wetness between your thighs is a testament to his desire, a reminder of how deeply he claimed you as his own. You feel the pulse of his spent cock still buried inside you.

Your gaze follows the lines of black veins snaking up his forearm, a stark contrast to his now pinkish skin. You watch as they slowly fade from sight, disappearing like a memory slipping away. Each movement feels heavy, weighted down by the aftermath of his passion.

After a while, Leon finally withdraws from you, a pang of loss echoes through your body, leaving you empty and longing for more of his touch. The heat of his body lingers on yours, branding you with his mark and making it hard to differentiate where his skin ends and yours begins.

You close your eyes, still feeling the ghostly touch of his lips and fingers on your skin, as if he's imprinted himself upon you forever. The room is filled with the heavy scent of sex, a reminder of the raw passion that just transpired.

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[acesw]

Knowing our Arcanists 14: Druvis III

Welcome to entry fourteen of my series: "Knowing our Arcanists"! This is a series in which I introduce and tell the stories of our fellow characters in Reverse: 1999. For today, we have: Druvis III!

Despite well loved by many, Bluepoch tends to overlook her character ever since we left the first 4 chapters and there's so much potential left behind. After analyzing her, she's one of the characters that left one of the most lasting impressions on me. Lets get started.

Druvis Weyerhauser III is an Irish-American arcanist who was born in the early 20th century on October 23rd. Her arcane skill, inherited from a long and ancient line, allows her to communicate with the wildlife around her and manipulate them to a large extent. Raised in a wealthy family, Druvis has always been familiar with formalities. But at the same time, the woods has always been her calling.

She lived in Ireland throughout most of her childhood. Living with a wealthy and predominantly arcanist family, she grew to love her identity and lineage considering her familiarity with Celtic traditions and sigils. She also read Irish epics and legends growing up.

Its likely that she learned how to do traditional wand-making around this time, using the wood and natural materials around her as a source of power. While strange in style and composition for its time, the powerful arcane conduction became the reason why people commissioned them.

However, her life changed when her mother remarried, and she decided to chase after the "American Dream" during the 20s, where many lesser-known aristocrats migrated to the Americas in hopes to find a respectable footing. Druvis' mother wanted to abandon her traditions, and embrace the "New Age" full of cubism and modern sciences.

The Weyerhaeusers became lumber tycoons who were more adamant in maintaining their wealth and business over honing their arcane skills, leaving Druvis as an outlier among them. She chose to often escape to the woods against her parents wishes, curious and captivated by the whispers of the trees so close to her home. On those nights, away from the banquets, she would listen to the whispers and examine the shape of their growth.

Druvis' defiance and insistence on traditions was often something her mother disapproved of, wanting to raise her daughter as a proper upper class lady, but she never seemed to do anything to stop her entirely. However, she hoped that Druvis would grow out of it and join her in the business.

They were able to buy and profit a portion of the Cascade Range, thus their popularity and their wealth grew immensely from their business. They gained more deals and their stocks increased. This growth remained constant for years, whilst Druvis grew a love for the range for its beautiful flora and fauna. She found the Cascade Range as a place of respite and escape for her, away from the modern society.

In Autumn 1928, stocks began to crash and wealthy families continuously lost their stocks and other earnings. The Weyerhausers lost most of their profits and went bankrupt due to the collapse of the wood supply chain, and her stepfather grew more desperate to replenish those earnings. After selling things like potion formulas, it left him with choosing the last option: to sell and bulldoze the land.

What changed Druvis' life forever was not this, but the unfortunate events that came after. On one night while her parents, their buyers, and workers that were to do the disafforestation. Druvis was also searching for them, wanting to offer a new solution using arcane skills in hopes to persuade her parents away from bulldozing the land.

Yet, the entire forest was ablaze by an unknown suspect, leading to the deaths of 13 people, including Druvis' parents and their buyers. The media swarmed Druvis with questions, which further grew as arcane traces were found at the scene. This led to her being blamed and shunned by the media, leaving her to deal with not only grief but also criticism of her name. Due to this, she disappeared from public eye, mostly grieving alone in the burnt forest and taking the time to pick up on things like wand-making again.

As we know in the main story, in the post-"Storm" era, Druvis was offered a place in the Manus Vindictae through Forget Me Not. They shared a similar grief and Forget Me Not used it to his advantage to take her in and cultivate her vengeful feelings towards what happened to her. She helped the Manus for a time, crafting things like Schneider's gun wand and being a supplier of resources.

It was in Chapter 2 that things turned on its head, where Druvis decided to betray the Manus in favor of the Timekeeper. The Timekeeper offered a new path to help move forward rather than settle in revenge against what can't be changed now. By looking forward to the future, life will grow again from its burnt shells, and bring closure to her grief. She remained loyal to the Timekeeper ever since, forever thankful in taking this new path and now strives to fight for the future ahead of her.

Druvis is a really reserved and respectable woman. Despite having the qualities of a decent upper class lady, she was never one to engage in social interaction. She found more comfort in the forest and even vice versa. She better communicated with the trees than with people, but she can immediately switch to her more presentable demeanor with those around her.

With friends, meanwhile, she finds comfort in talking to them and discussing about things like potion-making. She also becomes very protective of them, doing every means of her power to help them out of situations and problems.

Her practices left her a profound knowledge in arcane materials, and it helped her in creating these powerful potions and wands due to its "unusual" compositions.

She absolutely values her traditions and lineage as someone who can communicate with all the wildlife around her. Druvis practices most of her traditions alone and but will also share it with friends. (e.g. making them Celtic ale) It also helped her learn to be thoughtful and intuitive, taking approaches to understand anything that's in front of her.

Her values also go against modernist and industrialist ideals, since it brings significant damage to the forests. Her experiences led her to have a particular distaste for luxuries, fancy parties, and even her family name due to how it became associated with an aristocratic business. From observing everything, she never understood the "American Dream" because of it; because it changed her mother.

Even with how things turned out in the end, Druvis still loved her. She remembers fondly of how her mother used to read her those Irish epics, and allowed her to learn her practices growing up. She's still absolutely thankful for what her mother left to her, even if she didn't become the aristocratic individual she wanted.

Even then, its time for Druvis to move on, since the future won't wait. She may continue to mourn for what was lost, but she now understands that dwelling on the pains will only hinder her growth. But now, she won't let them affect her anymore, determined to continue fighting with her hope and the future.

[thisisntmyrightera]

Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader Part 2

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: Violence, homophobia mention of attempted rape and sexist language

Hours passed, one after another as groups of 5 people entered after passing the tests, time was exhausting, hearing gunshots in the distance and watching as the greedy people got upset every time the door opened again and again

I had already gone back and forth from my mattress to the steps, I sat down and lay down bored looking around feeling the irritation on my ankle more and more, the guard had tied it so tight that a red irritation had started to appear on my skin

Ouch - I said barely touching my ankle feeling the burning that was irritated even more by the friction of the fabric

Are you okay let me see - Hyun-Ju approached slowly sitting down a couple of steps below taking my foot carefully - did you twist your foot?

No, I'm fine - I looked at her embarrassed, trying to avoid her gaze, but her firm and large hand held my foot, looking at me - it's just a scratch, I think

Let me see - her touch went from firm to soft and delicate, slowly lifting the fabric of my pants, showing the red and irritated mark on my skin - I see, your skin is very sensitive, are you weak after all?

Hey, I'm not weak - her laugh made me laugh with her, pushing her a little while my leg rested on her knee - Hyun-Ju… can I ask you something?

Sure - her smile was still kind as she carefully folded my pants up, making sure the fabric didn't touch the irritated area again

Why are you here? Do you need the money for something? - Her face seemed to turn even paler than it already was, her smile blurred and her eyes looked at the floor in shame, as if she had asked the most embarrassing thing on the planet - If you don't want to tell me, I'll understand, excuse my intrusion

No… it's not that - she sighed slowly swallowing saliva and then looked at me with a look of embarrassment - my… my goal is to get to Thailand

Thailand? Do you need to go on vacation or something? - I smiled at her naively excited, thousands of times I had heard about that country but I still had not had the fortune to know it

No..- she smiled mocking a little at my foreign innocence - I…I need to go finish my transition you know..

Transition?..oh..I..understand Hyun-Ju sorry I shouldn't have asked you something so personal

Don't worry - she smiled a little moving her fingers nervously playing with the green fabric - it's just that…nobody is ever interested in my story and it's a little difficult for me to tell it

I understand…well..- I looked at her going down a couple of steps until I was sitting next to her looking at her attentively - if you want you can tell me, I would like to meet Hyun-Ju - She laughed with her eyes a little wet looking to the other side trying to hold her breath - do you work?

I worked… - she sighed again, this time deeper, dropping her shoulders - I was fired from my job when… well… I decided to tell everyone what I really am, they were ashamed of me and, they fired me

They are bastards, that is not right or even legal, what does your identity have to do with your ability, they are ignorant - I snorted angrily clenching my jaw - it must have been a dumb job after all, right? You must not have missed much

I was a soldier… - she looked at me, moving her legs nervously - a sergeant to be more exact, after they fired me my mother cried a lot and my father was ashamed, they don't talk to me anymore, my friends stopped talking to me and… - her voice broke off as her lips trembled - and everything became difficult and lonely

I understand, the people you trusted turned their backs on you - I looked at her feeling stupid, I shouldn't have forcing her to open her feelings like that, now I felt guilty for making her cry because of my silly curiosity - but… Hyun-Ju - I smiled a little taking her hand (which I could barely hold a couple of fingers of her big hand) I can be your friend, I would have loved to meet you somewhere else and be able to help you feel better about yourself, after all you haven't done anything wrong, being yourself makes you very brave

That's why I want to go to Thailand, I've heard that in that country there are the best doctors and the prettiest girls, I would love to be able to complete my transition and finally be what I want to be - her eyes showed a sparkle when she talked about it, her illusion overflowed through her pores

You don't have to go to Thailand to feel like that, for me you are already beautiful - my arms surrounded her as soon as the sobs began to come out of her chest and her hands covered her face saddened by crying, she was so fragile, my arms could barely surround her shoulders while her head rested on my shoulder sobbing and shaking - if you want to cry do it, people have been very cruel to you, but never cry out of shame, you have nothing to feel disappointed in yourself about.

This time, the shots didn't seem so dangerous and time passed without feeling it so slowly, she was a magical being that made me lose track of time

You are also very pretty, since I met you, I felt your bravery but also your heart, not everyone shows what they have inside and makes it look so valuable - her hands slowly wiped her tears taking care not to ruin her eyeliner and her diva bangs

It's not time to get sentimental - I laughed pushing her slowly while I got up adjusting my blouse going down a couple of steps - I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime

Do you want me to accompany you?

No, I'll be fine, wait for me here don't go anywhere - I laughed walking across the large space in the center of the beds feeling everyone's gazes.

They followed me and whispered, some laughed and others even said uncomfortable things waiting for me to react upset, they made the path very difficult to the door which was empty and as it was supposed, almost all the guards were in the yard even while the game continued.

The bathroom was big, with lots of cubicles and mirrors, almost uncomfortable to look at, like those endless and gloomy backgrounds, I could barely walk without tripping over to one of the toilets, sitting down uncomfortably listening to the door open once again, this time the footsteps of several people echoed in the almost empty place and a couple of laughs broke the silence and then a loud bang on my door made me jump scared, quickly pulling up my clothes

-I know you're in there, naughty girl, get out of there - the boys' laughter echoed off the walls, how could I have gotten into the wrong bathroom - get out you damn bitch - A loud bang again made me jump scared, unlocking the door with fear and opening it slowly

What did I tell you, the foreigner was here - the purple-haired boy laughed leaning on the bathroom door almost joining his face to mine - what are you doing here, cutie?

Nothing, I'm done - I looked at him, barely trying to get through quickly, scared, feeling a clumsy and strong hand pulling my hair

Come here bitch, I'm not done with you - this time his strength made me slam against one of the bathroom doors, making my back hurt - we know why whores like you come to our country, they come for sex and attention from us, don't they?

That's right, my friend - the long-haired man laughed, pressing his sweaty face against my cheek - she smells good, tell us, darling, what is such a pretty and sexy girl doing with that damn homosexual monster, huh?

She's not a monster, she's my friend - I looked at him, annoyed, tired of continuing to deal with men like him, but despite trying to get out of his hands, I couldn't - her name is Hyun-Ju, that's what they should call her

Oh, how cute, so you're a fucking weirdo like that effeminate? You like faggots, huh? - He laughed, hitting my cheek, making me scream in pain- You know my friend Nam-Gyu liked you as soon as he saw you, don't you like my friend? He's a real man

Leave me alone - I could barely speak when I felt his hand on my neck, pressing me against the door

Leave you? Honey, we're just getting started - the rapper laughed with his friend - do whatever you want to her Nam-Gyu, show her what it's like to be with a real man

My screams could barely be heard a couple of centimeters away, his firm hand on my neck and my crying didn't help much, feeling his disgusting hands running over my body, under my shirt and on the elastic of my pants made me feel even more of an idiot, this was all my fault

Shut your fucking mouth, you're distracting me - another blow again, this time on my lip leaving me stunned - hold her tight, she won't stop moving

I could feel the cold air on my thighs as they pulled down my pants and laughed talking disgusting and meaningless things, everything seemed to get even more dizzy, everything looked blurry until my body fell to the cold floor and again I could react, my tears wouldn't stop running down my face but I could notice the rapper and his friend lying on the floor, the latter Nam-Gyu wiping his bleeding nose

This will be the last time you approach her, is that clear? - Hyun-Ju hit him once more, slamming his head on the floor, leaving him unconscious - If you touch her again, I'll kill you, you fucking idiot, I'll kill you!

The purple haired boy ran hysterically almost tripping over his shoulder, not caring that his friend was on the floor, and I felt so humiliated, lying in a corner of the bathroom crying with a bleeding lip. If only I had listened to my parents from the beginning, I would have never come to this country and this wouldn't be happening. It was all my fault.

Calm down, sweetie, here I am - Hyun-Ju was much taller than those two men, her body was still strong and thick, but her presence was so calm and gave me so much peace that I couldn't feel intimidated by her.

Her hands, careful as always, held my pants, slowly lifting them up until they were in place, then they went to my face, checking my bruises and moving my hair out of my eyes so she could see every inch of my skin.

Sorry… - I looked at her embarrassed, feeling my tears running non-stop, I felt so humiliated and dirty that I couldn't think of anything else but that everything was my fault

You don't have to apologize, you didn't do anything wrong, no one will do anything bad to you anymore, I promise - her arms held me, she never asked me to stop crying or forced me to calm down, she just let me take it all out in her arms, rocking me slowly - let's go outside

But… - I looked at her with fear, shaking her head

Nothing bad will happen, I promise, as long as we're together I'll take care of you, okay? - I could feel my hair being brushed by her fingers slowly and carefully

Ok… - I sighed wiping my eyes with my sweater getting up slowly holding on to her arm so I wouldn't fall, luckily when we left the lights were almost off and most of the people who were already in their beds were getting ready to sleep, thank god without paying attention to us as we crossed the large space in the center

Let's go to bed, tomorrow will be a new day and we must be focused - her hands held my back slowly, making me go up the stairs carefully taking care not to trip - do you want me to help you with your shoes?

No.. - I looked at her embarrassed sitting on my bed taking off my sweater carefully while she stood rubbing her hands nervously

Okay, if you need anything, I'll be in my bed, just call me okay? -She smiled lightly at me, almost invisible because of the darkness of the place, but I could feel it, she made me feel those nice things

Hyun-Ju…-I held her hand quickly while she stopped almost tripping- can you… stay, I'm afraid to sleep alone

Do you want me to stay here? I can watch you if it makes you feel safer -she went back up a few steps sitting down carefully

You can sleep with me, we'll both rest and take care of each other- I could feel my cheeks erupting again while I held the blanket so she could come in with me

Are you sure? I don't want to bother you…

I'm sure, come - I smiled at her, barely feeling a pain in my lip, she just lay down carefully, her body almost taking up more than half of the bed but her presence was so calm that it made me feel like everything was perfect again

I didn't understand why I felt that way, safe and loved, with honesty and without being hurt

Thank you Hyun-Ju…thanks for saving me

Thanks to you, sweetheart, you saved me in a different way,

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

Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon! Tag List!

Part 3

@kuureii @sann1e @sunflowers-are-heaven @bridellashiper

[bloogers-boogers]

Anyways guess who finally got some sleep at the hotel? And also a nightmare! Yup, Adam

(Eden Adam AU)

-Cain and Bernadett-

In this Au Eve had abandoned Adam with their first born son Cain (who turned out to be Lucifer's son confirmed by the angels). Adam and Eve were seen as 'Night and Day' Adam represented humanity and hope, a bright future ahead of them. While Eve represented sin and darkness, an eventual death.

One cold night Eve had parted ways with Adam claiming she'd go fetch some of their clothing in the river while Adam looked for shelter to protect Cain who was sick from a really bad fever, he found the shelter, a cozy nice cave big enough for the three of them, he waited outside while Cain was tucked inside wrapped around the fabric of his robe, he stood for hours freezing himself in a hug waiting for the arrival of his wife. Yet she never returned. At first Adam remained hopeful she would return even after a period of him searching for her around the fields and woods; worried she may had gotten attacked or lost, yet still found nothing that could lead him to her.

The angels one day landed on earth, Adam was sparkling with joy hopeful that they knew where Eve was. Yet, they gave him a devasting news that almost broke him.

Informing him that Eve was seen leaving earth to join Lucifer in hell.

At first Adam couldn't believe it, there was no way Eve would abandoned them. She would never abandon Cain! Anger and betrayal surfacing and taking over cutting through his heart like an axe. He wasn't even given the time to process this after they also revealed Cain wasn't his and instead; was the son of the devil. Instinctively Adam hold on to Cain protectively thinking the worse of the angels, it was the only thing he had left, he wouldn’t be able to bare losing him too, but they reassured him they couldn't do anything as it wasn't in their right to do so. That Adam must pay for his sins (and for his wife's) and raising a son that wasn't his (the son of the devil) was enough of a punishment. However, they would return eventually to declare of the next solution to the now growing concern: The possible extinction of humanity. Now that mother of humanity was no longer in the picture, who would bare the children to the world? It was only Adam (male) and Cain (male, baby). So solutions needed to be discussed with, and pronto.

And oh, did they in fact, find another solution.

It took five years, five dreadful years alone raising his son Cain, alone. Through sickness and pain, starvation and fear, cold and heat; he did it all to keep his son alive. His gut told him that Cain would take his spot keeping humanity alive and he couldn't ask for anyone else better enough to take that role better from him. And somewhat he was right. The angels returned, finally giving him his new task, on what was going to happen next. He was prepared, he even made sure Cain looked presentable enough among the devine to show them the future ruler of earth.

So Bernadette was born. A beautiful baby girl with blonde curly hair and green eyes. She was made from leftover dirt from the creation of both Lilith and Adam. She was technically an 'equal' but she remained inferior to both first humans by the little amount use on her which is why she was made a baby instead of becoming Adam's third wife.

Her purpose was to be Cain's wife. As Adam had already guess, Cain would take his place as father of humanity and he was okay with that. However, his new purpose given was to raise the children until they were at the age to fend for themselves.

With time the children grew older, Cain was always by Adam's side no matter what. He was his biggest support in his most weakest moments, he was there to help him provide a safer living, he was a strong and caring boy, and Adam cherished his son more than anything the angels could've offer him. Bernadette was his biggest comfort, she'd hold him tight when things became too overwhelming, and knew the right words to cheer him up. She had a strong character, her emotions where always kept control, fearless and courageous. She kept them fed and made sure their home was always guarded while they hunt for food or other resources.

However he would not deny that he felt a bigger connection to Cain because of his mother and because he was there at his birth, he was there when Eve presented her first symptoms of pregnancy, the months of pain and struggling Eve dealt with while carrying him. He was his, blood or not.

But the angels had made it cleared that both children weren't Adam's. Adam would called them his family, angels would defined them as a group. Adam would call Cain his son, angels would call him son of Eve. Adam would claim that Bernadette was capable of doing the same tasks as Cain, angels would claim she shall not. Adam would claim that Bernadette was an equal to Cain (inferior), angels would remind him she was not (superior).

Bernadette would spend most of her time around the angels when they were present, they guided her through everything and they made it know that Adam was not her father and Cain was her soon to be husband. While with Cain they left him alone most of the time, and they let it slide for him to call Adam 'dad' as he was not much of their concern, conflicted opinions was casted on Cain when they had no choice but to resort for the second father of humanity. This difficulty was all linked being the son of the actual devil when Bernadette was not. Bernadette was their pride and joy. Cain was just… Cain.

With years passing by Bernadette became more beautiful, an absolute gem under a bunch of mud. Cain fell head over heels for her in a heartbeat. At this point the angels had separated Bernadette from Cain and Adam. Their claims were because there was still so much to prepare Bernadette before becoming mother of humanity, she would be the main leader of earth being Cain (corrupted) an inferior in their eyes and she should not indulge in sin just yet.

Both Cain and Adam protested not liking the idea of her being alone but angels stated they will guard her until she was ready to conceive a child.

Adam still didn't understand why she needed to be separated.

Another few years had past and the angels came back to Cain stating Bernadette was ready and she was now bride of Cain. Cain eager to greet Bernadette after years of not seeing her, was excited. However Adam took caution of the careful wording of the angels "your bride Bernadette, Cain" "Bernadette your husband" (having been used to the this sublime type of wordings the angels would use on them (on his son) this could be also seen as Bernadette not entirely belonging to Cain. Why didn't they use wife?)

Adam also notice that years really did went by fast, Bernadette was now a grown woman, completely changed and he wondered if she could see the changes on Cain too.

Cain had become stronger, he wasn't the same scrawny looking boy she had grown accustomed back when they were just children. He was well fitted, more than capable of protecting her and their soon growing family. He was the perfect provider and husband Bernadette deserves.

Adam was proud to say the least that he managed to do his job well on creating the perfect man and father of humanity earth needed. Now newlyweds lived separated from him.

However, thinking his duty was finally over, that was far from the case.

Bernadette showed no interest on pursuing Cain, neither was she impressed of his courting. Adam would try giving advice to his son but neither was he understanding of the matter considering he never needed to court Lilith or Eve to form some bond, they just did? Though, he knew the feeling of not being able to receive the affection from your spouse (Lilith) but there was a point Lilith and him were attracted to each other, it just didn't last long as what the angels would've wanted. Either way, his advice was pretty much useless because Bernadette made it too difficult to Cain.

She did what was told, she gave her body to Cain and was now expecting their firstborn. But eventually, Cain would come looking for him and tell him he couldn't feel the love being corresponded and that he yearn to feel her warmth. Adam sympathize with Cain, having felt this himself with Lilith.

But he really couldn't do anything.

What he didn't expect was for Bernadette to keep looking for him. Yes, she was wife to Cain and lived in separate homes but they weren't too far apart. Bernadette would give her part on the matter, complaining about Cain's lack of ability to understand her. Telling him that Cain would have temper tantrums and lash out on her. Things Cain never told Adam about but he knew his son well enough to know these were true. Cain was perfect in many ways but he had a temper, he was inpatient and impulsive. But it never went so far on causing too much damage. So maybe he should speak to him about it.

So far, Bernadette was still the sweet and caring girl he raised. Gentle, loving and soft spoken. Though, now there was more elegancy and grace in the way she spoke from being around the angels for far too long. She was also more frail looking compared to when she was with them, her rough edges had smoothened down with delicacy all of the lectures and teaching from the holy beings overshadowing her previous teachings of survival. Hopefully her skills weren't forgotten.

Oblivious to all, Adam never consider there was even the slightest possibility that there was something far deeper into the behavior of Bernadette.

Bernadette was in love with the first man: Adam.

Yes, she had fallen in love with the first man even before the angels had taken her away. She never felt the connection of father and daughter dynamic Cain would claim them as, he even once called them siblings because "equals but not entirely" thing he'd tease her for. Neither did the angels felt comfortable in that matter, they agreed with her that Adam was a whole separated thing from them. He was initially perfect, yet corrupted from sin by being tricked of his own wife. He was innocent and loyal since the very beginning. That snake and unfaithful woman ruined everything! Adam was meant to be father of humanity and by the wording of God himself.

It was only right for her to stand next to him as the third and actual deserving of the title: mother of humanity. Adam's wife. But unfortunately they were not successful in making her as such; from the lacking of material stored. So she had to be confirmed with Cain.

She also grew resentful of the constant labeling when it came to being wife of Cain. Every lesson was to be of a good mother and spouse. To serve and love her husband, all of that silly yapping she supposed they had firstly taught the first woman and the second.

Still, initially oblivious of their ulterior intentions. The angels and Bernadette were far alike when it came on holding the same opinion and wishes in regard of Adam.

The angels were hopeful that if Bernadette was separated from Adam for a certain period and then reunite them again after so long, seeing her as the full grown woman that she's now become, that he'd take a liking to her and claim her as his wife; retaking his initial purpose. But no, not even a spark on those eyes when she reached out her hand to greet him, just genuine fondness and happiness to see her alive but never more. While Bernadette was holding herself back from jumping on to the first man's arms and claim him as hers.

However, they waited long enough and the angels insisted for she to claim Cain and conceive a baby. She denied and protested she was not in love with Cain and did not want him, to calm her down and not attempt a 'Lilith' they made a agreement that benefited both; a promise that her second born would be of Adam's.

This was enough to let Bernadette pleased.

Adam was shocked when the angels had called him and Cain in for some news. Cain was still overwhelmed with many feelings after the birth of his first daughter Merida. The first man was immediately alert for literally anything; he did not trust them.

But what shocked him the most was what they told them.

"To make things quicker you must share Bernadette. The timing of your development delayed many possibilities of growth so we must now make up for the time lost," Raphael told them.

Adam wanted to screamed for the amount of bullshit that was, but he had to keep it cool these were superior beings from them, "pregnancy still last for nine months why am I needed for all of this? It only requires one man to give her seed."

"It would help prevent birth defects if the children aren't fully from the same blood," Michael simply added.

"It is not a choice Adam, it's an order," Sera spoke much stern compared from the others, " your seed is crafted by God's hands, it's a blessing and it would garantee to grant more than one child in Bernadette's womb as the intended purpose of the creator was for you and the first woman to create very quickly. While with Cain we are not certain when exactly they'd have multiple."

Adam glared at them in the first time in forever he wanted to run away and never returned, now he understood why Eve left. Fuck, why Lilith left him too..

He glanced at Cain and he was absolutely furious from jealousy.

"Doesn't Bernadette have a voice in the matter?! This is so wrong! Adam is like a father to us!"

"But he's not," Michael coldly admitted.

Cain eyes opened wide, "w-what is that supposed to mean?!"

"That he is not your father, never was and never will be. He was only there to raise and keep you alive. We made that cleared countless times. You're son of Eve and fruit from infidelity, the son of Lucifer: the devil." Raphael continued on.

The second man gasped tearing out, "I thought you guys were just messing with me about that!" Seemingly forgetting to consider angels rarely humored anything.

"we do not mess around with humans," Michael cleared out any of his doubts, something in that sentence hold a whole different meaning.

"You should feel grateful we had to spare you as it's not in our right to take you out, only God can," Gabriel added.

"And Bernadette is okay with it. We've already discussed this with her and she's fine with having to bare one of Adam's children," Sera lastly added, to finish the discussion. And started their exit; leaving both humans alone to deal with their issues.

Cain that day broke in tears, falling on his knees and accepting a truth he tried burying for so long. He would always be seen as the son of the devil.

Adam knelt beside him and wrapped his arms around in a hug to comfort him.

And it went like that, Adam and Bernadette's first son Abel and daughter Azura was born. Bernadette was happy, genuinely happy compared to her first labor. Cain couldn't help but difference her reaction from carrying his father's baby over his. Jealousy rising in his heart everytime he'd see how Abel and Azura overshadowed Merida, the way Bernadette after conceiving with her father would now try latching on him with every opportunity she'd get (to try and conceive again with him). Let's not forget about the fucking angels favoring the children of Adam and the idea of her continuing birthing more of Adam's children was far more recommended.

However for everyone's displeasure with the exception of Cain, Adam kept denying and distancing even further away from the ideals of heaven. He was left disgusted from his intimacy with Bernadette, it changed him. It was becoming worrisome as it was a sign Adam was losing his faith so they all started being more subtle and decided not to push the issue any further than they should (which made Bernadette upset.)

It took nearly five years but the angels manage on convincing Adam to conceive a second time with Bernadette. Adam's spark for living was returning in flames (but not in the way the angels would've wanted. Not a leader. It was paternal) by having to raise Abel and Azura. They were his life. He was smitten of love for them. Protect them at all costs. He did the same with Cain’s children but it was just slightly different.

Even more time went on and children from both Cain and Adam wondered around the (now) small village; starting to become a more common thing to see. Now descendants became a thing, and eventually it grew in bigger amounts that the humans started dividing themselves in different sections.

Eventually conflict arises as newfound jealousy became more intensely evident once Abel grew older, Cain felt that his father had completely replaced him (even if that was far from the case.)

Abel was attached to the hip of Adam. He was the shoulder the first man could rely on for everything. Those were all things he use to be! And Cain hated it. It was a feeling he couldn't shake off, no matter what he did, even when Abel was so nice to him and there would be times they'd get along. He had even become null over Bernadette and Adam having sex, it was far more easier to forgive than whatever hatred he holds for Abel.

He also despised how the angels would prefer his offerings over his.

It didn’t take long for things to take a turn to the worse. When Adam began feeling life wasn’t as bad as he thought it’s, all hoped shattered when Cain murdered Abel. The light in his eyes had drained out completely. No longer did he care.

The banishment of Cain broke him.

Things drifted differently and he was forced to take Bernadette as his wife. To continue repopulating.

But Adam was far disconnected to even realize how much easier it was to submit to the angels wishes.

Life was basically meaningless, only made to follow orders, submit and worship. And so he did.

Like a puppet. Lilith’s words echoing his head in ongoing whispers, ‘we’re nothing more than objects with no free will to them. While we submit they will remain in control. They would destroy, change, put us through pain and reconstruct us again, break us again, and do it again over an over until we’re nothing more than dust and broken shards. No longer fixable, no longer useful.’

Bernadette took the name of Eve. For Adam’s displeasure and the angels delight.

They were both promised heaven.

Adam and Eve were back and ‘thriving’.

And with that, Adam wakes up, sweating and anxious unable to move. His body frozen, unable to scream, cry as darkness wrapped around him like a blanket. A red brightness coming underneath the bed hovering the walls and ceiling forming a form of a smiling woman and a apple.

Before vanishing in seconds and returning to the same silent darkness of the night Adam was already use to. Able to move, Adam calmed his breathing, seeking answers far from what he could able to understand. Things he couldn’t piece together. He didn’t know what it all was, what it meant. But he sure knew, he did not like it..

He feared being alone, and he let that know to the closest person he could find comfort with.

Lucifer.

[vinnytotherescue]

What makes us human (lies of p x female reader)

What is it that makes us human?

            Is it our heart, pumping warm red liquid into our bodies to keep us alive one more day? Is it our lungs feeding us oxygen and pushing our chest to move in an ongoing life-long choreography? Or is it our brain controlling our body, organs, and mind enough to answer this question? Is it maybe something simpler? Like the warmth we exude by simply existing or our curious eyes moving around ready to capture a new memory.

            Unfortunately, there is never one answer to this question since every human has a different view on this topic. A doctor would agree that a beating muscle is enough, but a philosopher would argue that there is more to being human than a single organ.

            Responding to this question becomes an even bigger hassle when said person is no human but a highly intelligent puppet. From the moment Pinocchio was created his very first goal was to become human, whatever that meant. But as time went on he began searching what it really suggests. The more he investigated the more conflicted he got with the inconclusive answers and their variety. His second solution to his problem was posing this question to the residents of Hotel Krat, an even bigger hassle as he later noted. Antonia was the first victim of his complicated question and the least helpful.

“What makes us human? Oh, my dear sweet boy, that’s a difficult question, isn’t it? It could be anything really, from having working organs to being able to feel”

            Next was Lady Sophia, his presumed advisor through his long and tiring journey of fighting and killing automatons around Krat. Her answer was better but not exactly what Pinocchio hoped for.

“Being human is such a peculiar concept. We are able to react to situations and feel different emotions like anger, joy, and love. If you meant physically now, we are given organs and whole systems that make us operate. But when you think about it, we are not that different from puppets. Are we? I mean you do have operating systems maybe not  as complicated as our own but the thing you lack is proper emotion”

            As Pinocchio grew closer to becoming human, he did have the opportunity to feel certain emotions, but never the ones he heard about. The feeling of anger and dread was not what popped into his mind when he thought of being human. What he longed for was joy, happiness, and most importantly love. Would he ever be able to feel love?

            That’s when you came into the picture. A young woman trying to escape this hell hole named Krat. It was only supposed to be a two-day trip to the city to meet some friends when that turned into a full-blown nightmare. How she managed to survive that long was a question in itself since she had no weapons and skills to properly use any. Simply hiding in boutiques and abandoned apartments was her way of surviving. Leaving the city of course was out of the question since she was evidently lost.

             Gemini was the first to notice her hiding in a cabinet as they ventured into another seemingly empty apartment. Unfortunately for her, the noise that came out of her mouth as a piece of glass fell on her foot was not subtle but thank god it wasn’t a normal automaton that found her.

            Pinocchio slowly walked toward the source of the sound and when he stood outside of the cabinet, he simply tugged it open. A kick to the face was not what he expected to say the least. Stumbling back, he was quick to compose himself and grab her arm as she desperately tried to escape his iron grip. Her kicking and punching immediately stopped when she heard his soft velvety voice next to her ear. Her eyes widened and her head snapped to look at her captor or maybe her savior. His eyes were bluer than the summer sky and the freckles adorning his pale face resembled all sorts of constellations.

Reassurance filled her chest for once in those long two weeks as she stared at the seemingly human person behind her.

“It’s ok I got you”.

            Pinocchio felt the need to bring her to the hotel since she was the first living human he managed to find “roaming’ the streets. That happened a few months ago and since then the puppet’s interest never left. He would always inspect her, her humanity. The way she moved as if dancing when trying to decide which book to read, the way she bit her lip when she was thinking, or the wide smile she would give to the cat every time she crossed paths with her. What made her so human?

            What made him wonder though was the peculiar warmth he felt in his chest each time he was close to her. After every trip to Krat, he felt a small change in him, giving him hope that he was becoming more and more human. But the feeling that deeply resided in his chest was still a question left unanswered. Could he feel something? But he is still a puppet, of course, he had a fair share of human traits as time moved on but was having emotions one of them? Talking of questions, he never got to ask her the one that posed to the rest of the Hotel Krat residents. What made them human, what would make him human?

            It was nearly midnight in the hotel and (y/n) was immersed in a book she got from the library a while ago. She lay on the couch her eyes scanning the yellowing pages without a care in the world around her, and the boy that entered the dimly lit room. He moved toward her making his footsteps purposely louder as if not to scare her. Her eyes though stayed put on the letter-filled pages.  P walked until he was in her field of vision, maybe a little closer than what she anticipated. His face was right next to her as he bent down to take a look at the book she was reading. The moment her head snapped to the left she came face to face with her crush.

            “P-Pinocchio t-too close!” her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she tried to put some distance between them, to her disappointment. Pinocchio only stared in confusion.

            “Sorry did I scare you?” he slowly moved to sit next to the shrieking girl on the couch patiently waiting for her response.

            “No of course not” she tried to put her brave face on, but his piercing blue eyes only made her more vulnerable “I was just surprised to see you that close that’s it” folding her arms over her chest and putting the book to the side she tried to focus on P’s face. There was always a look of confusion on it that she found adorable, but she would never say that out loud.

“Can I help you with something P?” her voice was soft once again and brought that warm feeling back into his chest. P examined her face and tilted his head.

“Can I ask you a question?” (y/n) was taken aback for a moment but managed to compose herself quite fast.

            “Yes of course P, what is it” The way his name rolled off her tongue so effortlessly hypnotized Pinocchio. It was like a siren was calling his name.

            “What makes someone a human?” (y/n) certainly did not expect a question like that late at night. He searched his eyes for some sign that maybe he learned how to joke but nothing. They just sone bright with curiosity as he awaited her response.

            “Well, that’s a difficult question P you know that right?” his eyes suddenly turned sad as he turned to look at the fireplace. Her heart broke the moment she saw that, and she was quick to come back.

            “But if you really need to know I will tell you what I think” A small smile took place on his lips as he nodded his head vigorously.

The girl held her chin between her fingers her eyebrows scrunched up as she tried to figure out how to proceed. What made them human? She never really thought about that before.  

            “Well, I don’t know for sure, to be honest. To me, a human is not someone with blood coursing through their body or someone who needs to breathe air. Of course, you may think that’s important but what makes us human is how we act. People whom we learned to call humans many times have done things that only a monster would do. To me, these are not humans. Humans are kind people who help others. People who would care about someone in need. People who will not hesitate to provide help. Their curiosity and their positive active stance in life are what makes them human”.

            P’s eyes were so focused on her, and a look of admiration found its place on his face. Knowing immediately what the next question would be as she saw his mouth open, she responded.

            “And yes Pinocchio, to me you are human. You did everything a human would do. I don’t care whether your heart is metal or soft, whether you breathe or not, you have shown me all kindness and showed many emotions that other humans haven’t.”            The warmth in the puppet’s chest got stronger and stronger. Him? A human? His metal heart was filled with something he could not explain but he loved it. His smile grew wider and before he could control his body his arms were tightly wrapped around her. (Y/n) came out of her trance in mere seconds as she felt his cold body on hers. Her cheeks burned red and her heart beat like crazy. She tried to keep her body under control so that he didn’t notice but to no avail. Pulling away from her hope returned to his eyes.

            “That means that you can answer my other question as well!” before she could get the chance to interfere, he started talking.

            “There is always when I’m around you this warmth in my chest that won't disappear. It’s so strong and I want to be close to you to feel it more and more” (y/n)’s eyes widened in shock as she stared into his cerulean eyes.

            “You mean love?” her heart was beating so loud that it was hurting her ears. Pinocchio had found out about love in all the books that he read but he never thought that he would be able to experience this as a puppet. Maybe he was closer to becoming human after all.

            “I love you?” that came like a question at the beginning “I love you”. P locked eyes with her and waited patiently for her reaction like a lost puppy. The realization hit the girl like a brick and time stopped for a while. A while that made P think that he said something wrong.

            “Did I say something wrong” His metal heart seemed to stop for a minute. For once in his life, he felt lost. The girl suddenly jumped in his arms sending him right down on the couch. Her smile was so wide and small giggles escaped her mouth.

            “I love you too silly.”

For once in his short life Pinocchio could answer how it feels to be human, what makes him human.

The end

Thank you everyone for reading! i haven't written in a while so im a bit rusty but i had to write for P im literally in love with him :')