#just… a heightened eagle vision/sense i guess?

[teecupangel]

(6:22) going with a DC/AC AU I find it a little funny if it's just Desmond in the world of DC and seeing as there's nothing on the brotherhood or templars is confused on what he should do next. Until wait a second is that fuckin Edward?!?

But can you just imagine Haytham Kenway’s Bleed just giving Desmond a headache because, as far as Haytham Kenway’s memories go, he always remembered his father wearing prim and proper clothes like these:

Then he sees John Constantine wearing this:

And he’s like “Oh no. Father’s return to his ruffian roots.”

Anyway, if Desmond gets punted in the DC ‘verse and has no idea what to do, I can totally see him following John just because he looks familiar.

John would be “???” but, at the same time, there’s something about Desmond that attracts… well, the sort that John’s pretty familiar with.

They don’t know it but it’s because the demons and other supernatural beings know Desmond is not from their universe. They can feel it (and some of them can even see or smell it). Desmond is different and they either want to kill him or they want to ‘know’ him.

Desmond just wants to go home and he honestly believes that all this supernatural and magical bullshit he sees being John’s sorta-assistant is just some kind of sci-fi bs he can’t understand. The Isus have screwed his perception so badly that he can’t believe in demons and magic and whatever.

Weird demonic being? Genetic mutation or experimentation gone wild.

Superheroes? Samesiessss.

Magic? Dude’s holding some kind of POE-equivalent item that can do crazy shit.

John is both impressed and annoyed by Desmond’s skepticism. He is absolutely confused at the mental gymnastics Desmond does just to explain everything as sci-fi bullshit.

The demons and other beings who get called ‘fakes’ and ‘genetic mutations’?

Yeeaaaahhh. It’s a good thing the first rule of getting isekai’ed to other worlds is that the main character gets a cheat power.

And Desmond’s cheat?

He can summon a moving pillar of fire and light from the fucking sun like a homing laser beam ala Moonbeam (no, we are not calling it Sunbeam, come on).

(This does mean that he absolutely works as a freaking battery for Superman though but Superman’s cool so Desmond’s okay with that)

(The Batfamily x AC AU that started this)

[extremelyblackandwhite]

crazy in love | steve kemp.

pairing: steve kemp x dark!reader

summary: steve has the upper hand.

warnings: smut (18+), fresh spoilers, very dark themes (18+), murder, dubcon

< masterlist

i look and stare so deep in your eyes, i touch on you more and more every time. when you leave, i'm begging you not to go, call your name two, three times in a row ...

She didn’t know how to describe what she was feeling, her head was both pounding and felt tight, yet her eyelids were still extremely heavy. Her senses came but she couldn’t find to open her eyes, not until she could feel everything around her. Her memory was foggy but she could almost pin point her mistake; trusting Steve Kemp. She should’ve shot him in the head then that would’ve solved it. After a while, she finally opened her eyes, her vision initially foggy crystallising to notice she was in the bedroom. Her senses heightened as she attempted to raise her hand and while one of them moved freely, another one was securely chained to the bed. Son of a bitch. She looked down herself finding her dress was nowhere to be seen and she was instead in her underwear, chained to his bed. Men, typical. 

      - Hi, baby. Slept well? - she moved her head to see him sat spread eagle in the chair by the dresser. She attempted to pull on her chain, hoping it would somehow break apart. - Don’t hurt yourself, baby. 

She pouted, looking at him like he didn’t like to be looked at. She was just upset, he told himself. She was also being extremely ungrateful, the other girls didn’t normally get to be in his room or alive by this point; yet, he’d given her his bedroom, a nice bed and hadn’t tried to hurt her yet. Not that he hadn’t thought about it, he thought about it every time he stood on his leg; yet, he didn’t think he’d ever find someone just as fucked up thorough as she was. Besides, he was starting to enjoy their little chats.

     - What do you want for dinner, baby? I’ll cook anything you want. - she remained silent, lips tightly sealed. - Oh, c’mon, the silence treatment? Don’t you think it’s only fair I get to be on top now? I let you have fun for a while, it’s only fair I get my playtime as well.

She turned around and away from him, staring at the headboard of the bed like a petulant child. Steve chuckled, the rumble tickling his throat as he moved the the hair away from her neck to lay a kiss on the fresh bruises of her neck. He could almost take a polaroid picture of this, her neck bruised and decorated with bite marks, in her underwear, chained to his bed. This surely had to be the closest thing to paradise on earth. He attempted once more to elicit a reaction from her by biting onto her shoulder, but she remained silent, staring at the headboard like the most interesting painting in the world. His nostrils widened before he gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. 

     - You’re gonna have to speak to me at some point, baby. - his finger bruised her chin. - Y/N!

She stared at him with no emotion, even when he had yelled her name in her face. Part of her knew if she made any sound, any movement, he’d be winning. If she maintained silent, he was surely gonna get upset and maybe she’d have a chance of getting herself free from the shackles. He gripped her chin once more before letting go, exploding in rage outside the bedroom before locking her there. She guessed she deserved that. She waited until she could hear him walk away before opening the drawer by the bed, searching for anything to help her unlock the shackles. Well, at least she hadn’t shackled him anywhere. Nevertheless, her efforts were pointless and she found herself shackled to the bed by herself until the sun settled down. As she prepared herself to sleep with one hand shackled to the bed post, the door unlocked, Steve walking in with a bouquet of flowers. 

     - Thank you for not going anywhere, baby. - he laughed at his own joke, walking up to her and offering her the flowers. - You can’t stay mad at me now. I even got your favourites.

That he had done. She’d off handed mentioned during one of their dates that she liked white roses, she hated red roses, always preferred the white ones and how soft they looked in a baby’s breathe arrangement. It was a pretty bouquet, but if he thought that was gonna apologise for the fact he had whisked her away to his home in the middle of nowhere only to try and kill her amongst other unsavoury things, then he was dead wrong. 

     - Are you still upset about the wife situation? - he sat next to her as if they were a regular couple, as if he were in her flat just watching TV with her. Instead, she was wearing underwear, shackled to his bed. - I thought shooting me would’ve made you feel better by this point, baby. 

She merely leaned against the headboard, staring at everything but him. He could talk to her all night and she was still not gonna say a thing.

     - Are you upset about the ex husband comment? - he leaned his chin on the space between her shoulder and neck, peppering kisses along the soft and tender skin. - You oughta tell me what you’re upset about, baby or this is gonna be very boring for both of us and I’ll just end up killing you. 

Y/N turned around, leaning on her side as if he wasn’t there. She would have to figure out how to get out of here, or at least get out of the shackles and then figure out what to do. She looked around the room, her mind running wild with ideas and hypothesis, yet she needed to get out of the shackles first. She turned around once more in bed to look at him, his expression as if the two were merely having pillow talk settling down wrong in her stomach. 

    - Talk to me, bunny. - his hand extended to caress her face. - I never gave you the silence treatment, you’re being unfair. 

    - You wanna talk unfair? - she tugged on the shackles. - This is demeaning. 

    - I’m sorry, bunny, but I have to make sure you’re not gonna try anything funny. - his fingers made a path up and down her side. - If you’re a good girl, then maybe I’ll allow you to be here without the shackles. 

    - How charming. - she rolled her eyes. 

    - Stop being such a brat. - he moved to kiss her face. - What else could you want more? You’re comfortable, in a nice bed ... that’s a lot more than what you did for me. 

    - I want a bath. - she looked into his blue eyes, her expression soft as it always was when they used to go out. 

    - Without me?

    - Are you inviting yourself to my bath?

    - You can either have one with me or none at all. What’s it gonna be?

She sighed, looking to the sheets and then back at him before nodding. A smile formed on his face as he moved to unlock her shackle but not before grabbing her wrist with a bruising like grip. No matter what she did, she couldn’t fight against him, not with full force. He was stronger than her after all and towered over her quite easily, so she just looked down at the ground, allowing him to guide her wherever he wanted like a weightless doll. 

He opened the door to the bathroom, closing the door behind him to run the bath while she just looked around. It was a pretty standard bathroom, with a double sink, a couples bathroom. Sometimes she forgot not only did she had to deal with him but with his equally maniac wife. However, her eyes particularly set on a wick gift basket with two bottles of wine and fruit. She looked at the mirror, watching his reflection before stretching her hand towards the bottle, her breathe stuck until she had into her hand. 

   - Steve. - he turned around to face her and she swung the bottle against his face. She dropped the bottle to the ground, opening the door and running away from the bathroom. 

   - NOW YOU’RE GONNA FUCKING GET IT, BUNNY! - he yelled out.

Y/N wasn’t sure of what to do. She could always run outside, call the police do something, but she still didn’t understand this home. It was a maze designed to confuse her and it had succeeded at that task. She just continued to run, trying to search anywhere which was familiar to her, but she couldn’t even reach the hall as once she turned around the corner, he grabbed her shoulders, throwing her against the wall. 

   - Bad girl. - his face was near hers, a sadistic smile illuminating his handsome face. - Bad, bad, girl.

She attempted to kick at him, but he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, his hand smacking her ass as he brought her back to the bedroom. He was unbothered by the kicking and the punched of his back, feeling nothing but anger. 

Dumb, stupid, brat, bunny. Couldn’t stay put, couldn’t behave for once. 

He threw her onto the bed, the mattress slightly bouncing but not even giving her the chance to move away as he towered over her body, his lips attacking hers in a bruising kiss. His hand settled around her neck, keeping her breathing restricted to the point she had to force herself to breathe. Steve didn’t care, he’d been nice for long enough. Now, he was gonna enjoy himself.

   - You’re gonna stay there. - his angry eyes bore into hers. - You’re gonna stay there and you’re gonna moan my name and you’re gonna beg. You’re gonna convince me why I shouldn’t fucking kill you. 

His hand ripped the white underwear away from her, his fingers tracing mindless lines along her folds. Wet, his dirty, little, crazy girl, already wet. She could whine all she wanted but he turned her on and the proof was smeared all over his fingers. His palm rubbed against her clit as he inserted two fingers inside her hole, her warm walls immediately wrapping around them like a glove.

   - You can tell yourself you’re not fucking crazy, but you are. You fucking are and you were made for me even if you don’t want it. - he kissed her under her jaw, finally eliciting some moans as she was unable to contain the pleasure all to herself. - I don’t care if you don’t want it, ‘cause guess what baby? You’re mine now.

   - Fuck you. 

He chuckled, tightening his grip around her neck before taking his fingers off her pussy. He heightened them on her top lip, cocking his head to the side in an handsome evil manner. 

   - Open your mouth, baby. I know for a fact you are good at sucking. 

She looked him dead in the eye before ever so slightly opening her mouth, yet the space was wide enough for him to push his fingers through her lips.

   - Don’t you fucking think of biting me or I’ll cut your pretty little throat and keep you around just for fucking you. You hear me?

Her tongue wrapped around his fingers, tasting the saltiness of his skin mixed with the flavour of her juices. He cooed at how she looked with his fingers in her mouth, like he was gonna make sure she was gonna be until he got tired of it. Not that he was ever gonna get tired of watching her like that. He took her by surprise thrusting into her while she had his fingers inside her mouth, but he didn’t allow them out. Instead fucking her at a fast, animalistic pace. He wanted it to hurt, he wanted her to go to sleep with the mark of him inside of her, tattooed so she would never fucking forget and think about it when she went to sleep tonight.

His fingers pushed her tongue down as he thrusted in and out of her, abusing her tight little hole as if it was his. It was his. 

   - You should see yourself, baby. - he smirked, kissing her forehead. - Next time I’ll have my cock in your mouth, see those lips wrapped around it. 

He continued to fuck her, slipping in and out of her until the pace became constant, the need and urgency for him to cum becoming noticeable in his movements. They were quick and angry against her pelvis, the shape of his cock noticeable in her tummy.

   - Look at that. - the hand wrapped around her neck pushed it down so she could see it. - All fucked, like you fucking need me. 

His movements grew sloppy as he filled her with her cum, some fantasies which he wouldn’t tell her filling his mind before he slipped off. He took his fingers from her mouth, bringing them to his and smirking at her reaction before taking them off as well and inserting them into her hole, pushing his cum in. 

   - Now you go to sleep with my cum with you and think of what you’ve done.

(...)

Y/N couldn’t remember when she had gone to sleep but she woke up with an October sunlight warming her skin and turning around she saw neither Steve or the shackles. In a glimpse of a second she was out of the bed and towards the door, ignoring the soreness between her legs, but Steve had been smart. He had locked her in. Fuck. 

She pulled at the door knob, hoping it would weaken and she would be able to leave, but the door remained locked. She kicked and punched the door, hoping somehow it would weaken the lock and she would be able to get the upper hand once more. However, she had to turn down her melt down once she heard his steps get louder and louder.

Y/N ran back to bed, pushing the sheets over her body as Steve opened the door, carrying a breakfast tray with a vase of flowers, orange juice and a plate with toast with he put over her lap. She stared at the food and back at him, wondering if he was naive enough to think she would eat something he prepared for her. He seemed to understand this as he took a slice of toast and took a bite of it before handing it to her.

   - Don’t make me force feed you, baby. - he taunted, so she took a bite of the toast, still maintaining eye contact with you. - I hate it when you’re upset at me, baby. 

   - Sure. - she rolled her eyes. - Which is exactly why I’m here locked. 

   - You only got yourself to blame, baby. You had the opportunity to escape when you had me locked downstairs, didn’t you? - she looked away from him. He knew he had a point. - You wanna be with me, baby. Just admit it.

   - Fuck you.

   - I get it you’re mad at me because of my wife and the comments about your ex-husband. - he caressed her face. - But I got you something that might make you feel better.

   - Cyanide? - she smiled sarcastically.

   - You’re gonna hold my hand and I’m gonna take you to the kitchen. If you try to run away, if you even take a mishap step, I will kill you. Are we clear, bunny?

She didn’t get to reply, she didn’t want to reply, didn’t want to give him the pleasure. Instead, she just took his hand like a sick couple as he took her to the kitchen. Her mind raced over what he wanted. Was this a trap? Was he gonna do something? She wasn’t sure.

However she was sure of one thing and that was that her ex-husband’s body was lying in front of them in the kitchen floor.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Ban do you know why the assassins keep stealing their main targets blood? I keep thinking about this. In the first game they took it, in syndicate they took it, and in origins I'm pretty sure the dramatic feather slash was taking it. Why do they do this. Why do they need the blood. Why is it never mentioned or explained

Also. What on earth is eagle vision. At first I thought it was gimmick of the of the whole genetic memories thing. But then present Desmond from the first game could do it. Where does it come from. How does it work. Its v neat how origins it's an actual eagle. But that implies this was a power not always possessed by the assassins, does it become one? Is at the end of origins will a powerful entity be like "wowee zowee you now have eagle powers but ya gotta steal the blood from every major person you kill" also I just realized the fact this game is literally named origins. Probably means it's. The origins.

Also its neat playing a game I know nothing about. I have literally no spoilers for this

Also also What's your favorite weapon to use :0 theres so many variations and types,, I think the sickle swords are my favorite but I've not tried much yet. They're fun though :] I also adore the Sekhmet Costume. Oooh and I adore that's theres so many outfits :D and they dont have powers which is a lil sad but now I can wear my favorites without worrying about one having better stats that I have to wear instead

I think all games w/ clothes w/ powers should impliment the feature from this one game I played when I was little, Charlie Murder? It was free with gold once and there was a (pretty cheap!) Item you could buy in shops so you swap the powers of outfits! Got something ugly with really good defense? and a bad but pretty shirt? Swap the stats! Now the pretty shirt is good and you can wear your favorite outfit through the entire game! This game also let you dye clothes :]

I had to look it up but it's basically a tradition to wipe the blood of their neck to signify having completed the mission and "paying respect" to the dead person, kinda like closing the eyes/putting coins over the eyes of a dead person as a sign of respect and tradition. If that's true I have no idea but that's what googled told me <3

I have absolutely no idea! I assume that eagle vision heighten assassin's senses and I guess the early assassin's, before they learned to do that (which seems to be working a bit backward) used their birds to track and find stuff. Ahaha I have absolutely no idea though? I just really like that feature in Origins, Odyssey and Valhalla because you are not bound to the mere physical limitations of your meek lil character and actually can see where tf people are <3

eheheh <3

I haven't played in a while but I love the axes, I think I got a flaming sword after a while that I used as well? I love the axe because it's so wide-ranged and its v fun to just knock your enemies off of their horses. My favorite outfits used to be the anubis outfits but then i played cotp and the duat outfit is my absolute fave <3

Oohoho! I have never seen a game with that feature before, that sounds really neat :O

[its-a-soft-science]

CH 1 untitled Taron/Hugh WIP

Sooo... I’m just gonna post a bit here to see if I can connect with some other folks who ship these two and maybe get a little feedback on this thing while I continue to work on it. My heart is so warmed by their adorable “just two nontoxic theater school bros” giggle-fest dynamic, but then there’s also like this massive undercurrent of switchy, flirty energy that I really need to write about. Also I am obsessed with the architecture of Taron’s career and how all these admiring older men keep supporting his rise to greater heights of fame, and really interested in how this fictional version of him might feel about that.

CHAPTER ONE

He’s visiting at his mum’s house when Matthew rings and asks him if he knows who Eddie is. 

“We’ve got this script we’re fixing it up. It could be exactly the right next thing for you.”

He doesn’t in fact know who Eddie the Eagle is, which is slightly horrifying because he already really wants to nail this. His mum passes through the kitchen at that moment and he grabs a pen, scratches a quick note and waves it at her - “EDDIE the EAGLE? ROLE? MATTHEW V!” Her eyes widen and she nods and gives a thumbs up. She also makes a sort of quizzical, funny face at him before ducking out of the room again, which he has trouble deciphering. Was she laughing? He puts Matthew on speaker and does a quick google.

“Ok,” he scrolls through the results. “That’s… a look,” he murmurs, but not unkindly.  Eddie seems like a very sweet man.

“Mate, you can do handsome just by showing up.” Matthew isn’t a flatterer. He has an eerily clear vision for the trajectory of Taron’s career, which Taron truly appreciates. “Debonair is easy for you. This one would prove your range.” 

It’s a good point, and he trusts Matthew’s sense of the business implicitly. He knows who Dexter Fletcher is. And he is pretty aware of Hugh Jackman, for fuck’s sake.

“So am I auditioning then?” Not that he would mind at all. He may have starred in a movie but he doesn’t feel like a movie star, and god knows Hugh Jackman would be the big name in this one between the two of them.

“No no, it’s a screen test. We’re not trying you out against anyone, we want both of you and we’re trying you out together. It’s to protect you, and everybody really, and just make sure things really work before we get started.”

“Oh. Well that’s amazing actually. I mean, I’m in? I’m in.”

“Great. Listen, I wouldn’t bring this to you unless I thought it was going to work beautifully. I’ll send you some pages and we’ll give it a try, eh?”

“Yeah, ok. Um, thank you? Very excited, Matthew.”

“This could be something special,” Matthew promises before he hangs up.

Taron looks at the picture of Eddie again, and tries sticking his chin out a little.

***

It feels a bit like a blind date, Taron realizes on the day. He realizes this when he enters the Marv rehearsal space and comes face to face with Hugh Jackman for the first time.

Hugh is wearing a hoodie and dark jeans, and his handsomeness feels like an actual, tangible shape in the room. He’s taller than Taron imagined, broad shoulders, built like a mannequin, and he glows with a warm, ultra-famous movie star level of confidence. Taron feels like an absolute muffin in comparison. One of those small, dense ones that comes in a flimsy cellophane wrapper in American convenience stores. He tells himself that it’s highly likely most men feel like this around Hugh Jackman, and refuses to let it bother him.

Hugh greets him with a very vigorous, very Australian handshake that turns into a one armed hug. Unsurprisingly, he smells amazing. 

“Taron, excellent to meet you, mate!”

“Yeah, hello, lovely to meet you too,” Taron feels his voice doing the thing when he’s nervous and coping, where it flip flops from deep to high to deep again. He takes a deep breath to try to settle his nerves, and Hugh immediately notices.

“Good idea.” Hugh smiles and takes another deep breath in sync with him. “Have you done one of these before?” 

“Screen test?” Taron shakes his head. 

“It’s kind of like a blind date, I always think.” Hugh flashes him a wide, reassuring grin. “Let’s try to have fun and not overthink it, okay?” 

“Good idea.” He can feel himself mirroring Hugh’s smile and can’t wipe it off his face, even though he badly wants to be playing things so much cooler than this. Here at the thirty second mark of their acquaintance, he is sure that he deeply, deeply likes Hugh to the point of embarrassment. 

Hugh claps him on the shoulder. “Great. Say, I loved you in Kingsman. Just awesome, man.”

“Thanks. I will not miss the training.”

“Jesus, I feel you there. I’ve got a few months before I start up again. Let me know if you want to torture yourself with one of those actor discussions about protein supplements and core work, I’m great at those.”

Taron cocks an eyebrow in exaggerated intrigue. “Yeah I would love that, we can compare crash diets-”

“Mmm, yeah, describe our muscles to each other, really dig right into our deepest body insecurities-” Hugh nods.

And wow, Taron feels very seen. “Oh my god, yes, sign me up. Favorite part of the business.” 

This is a really nice surprise. He had honestly wondered if Hugh was going to maybe secretly be a slight prick, because of the weightlifting/wrestling/gym hound thing. But he appears to be a fairly normal person- or like if a normal person were also a stunningly fit dad.

“I did genuinely love you in Kingsman, you’re great. I just got this sense that there’s a lot of other things you’re good at, if that makes sense. Not just action, like some guys.”

“Um yeah, thank you. Not to be ungracious, of course. I owe Matthew a lot, And don’t get me wrong I loved it-“

“Of course,” Hugh nods in understanding. “I mean you sing though, right? Matthew mentioned.”

“Wow, yeah, I guess he talked me up.” Taron feels himself start to blush a little and shrugs.

Hugh shrugs back, smiling. “Just a little bit. Said we’d be good together.” 

Taron doesn’t know quite what to say. “Yeah! I sing, I mean not like you, but I do definitely skew more toward drama school than Die Hard.” 

Hugh raises an eyebrow. “Well me too. So this oughtta be fun.”

***

It is, in fact, very fun. It’s an acting work out, bouncing off of Hugh. It’s stiff at first but in a totally normal way, and things loosen up rapidly once they do the first scene a couple of times. He’s naturalistic and open, and it seems like he’s mostly just being himself but with a weary American swagger, and then each time they break he perks up again, eager and engaged and twinkly and Taron realizes how much depth Hugh’s actually layering into his performance.

There’s an aspect of him that reminds Taron slightly of Colin, the way he’s both excited and at ease. Different versions of a very self-possessed masculine energy, only Hugh is all wide-open sunshine where Colin is a gracefully poised, breezy day. Taron wonders if it’s just maturity that they have in common. 

He feels the edge of something, a feeling he knows well but hasn’t put a name to before. Something about Hugh’s groundedness with him today is making it easy to be self-aware without sliding into worry. So he turns the feeling over in his mind, and waits for it to make itself better known. This happened with Colin too, of course. He might be star struck. Or crushing. He can admit that, he’s not an idiot and there’s nothing wrong with it. The more scenes they run, the more primed his whole nervous system gets toward Hugh, laser focusing on all his reactions. Acting with him feels like playing, and it’s fucking fun. Plus, every time they break Hugh just shoots him these wordless looks of admiration like he’s blown away by every choice Taron’s making. They have to take a longer pause eventually, because Hugh keeps cracking up with delight whenever Taron tries out another Eddie thing.

“Sorry, it’s just really good. Would you heighten it?” 

“Well if I heighten it you’re clearly going to lose it, so no.” He smirks and adjusts the glasses he’s worn for the day, sticking his chin out more and heightening everything anyway.

“The squint! Yes! How are you doing that?”  At first Taron suspects that maybe he’s just being kind, building him up so that the screen test goes well. But Hugh is just genuinely fucking delighted, and it starts to give Taron a classic show-off high. 

“It’s kind of a sad eye thing, like this,” And he takes his glasses off for a moment to show Hugh how he squints in a faintly mournful sort of way. 

“Yep, that’s it.” Hugh claps his hands, beaming. “God, you really look just like him, that’s it.”

The validation washes over him and splashes messily over the top, he’s beaming right back and laughing like a bit of a tit, honestly, trying not to be too obvious about the way Hugh’s praise is hitting him. Then Matthew and Dexter both join in and start talking about how well the test has gone, and before he knows it the day is over, Hugh’s hugging him again and it’s time to go.

“So… I had a really nice time. Can I see you again?” Hugh jokes as their respective cars pull up outside the building. 

“Yeah, definitely call me,” Taron answers with a smile and wink, which gets Hugh absolutely guffawing as he turns away and waves over his shoulder. They’re going to do the movie together, that’s clear after today. And that interesting feeling does one more quick lap around Taron’s nervous system.

***