#that one line of dialogue haunts me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wombywoo · 7 months ago

Note

do you have any ghostsoap favorite fics, perhaps?

boy do I....

I should preface this by saying that I'm pretty...particular with what types of fics I enjoy reading (I only like certain character interpretations/tropes/writing styles, etc) so bear with me...

These are all mostly canon-compliant, non-AUs, ones that I regard highly~

Seasons--by StinglessWasp: This is pretty much my go-to fic rec for anyone into CoD and ghostsoap in general. It showcases everything I love about these characters, in a setting that feels as authentic to the games as possible, while also exploring the depth and sincerity hidden under the surface. So well-written and paced--the dialogue and military references all contribute to that 'feels like a mission out of the game' experience. Plus, I just love this interpretation of our boys--the humor, the inner struggles, the intimacy--Wasp 100% *gets* these characters and it's a joy to read <3

Except You, You Can Stay--by Iravaid: While this one isn't *technically* ghostsoap until the last chapter, in my opinion, it's required reading for anyone who gives a shit about Simon Riley. This is *the* character study--an intimate dissection of Ghost's past that seems so realistic and grounded, you forget how ludicrous those comics really are. Ira takes such care in treating these heavy topics with delicacy and effectiveness. Each chapter has you going 'oh wow, this is even better than the last', but as a whole--it's a stunning, fleshed-out glimpse into Simon as the character he was always meant to be. And the final chapter which eases you into his relationship with Johnny is so authentic and sweet, it just makes perfect sense that they should be together, and that this poor poor man deserves some goddamn love <3

bleeding in the house of god--by revolvermonkcelot: This is a really great 'missing scene' fic, a perfect opportunity to explore the in-between moments that the game so carelessly chooses to gloss over. I can't praise Monk's writing enough--it's slick and crisp and very tasty; the imagery just jumps off the page and you can practically feel the sweat. Plus, the dialogue exchanges between our two boys are so well-timed and in-character--love all the slang and British references~ This whole fic reads like an addition to their mission flirting, and I'm all for it! You can truly tell this author has such deep understanding and experience with this franchise (winkwinkwink, this is a joke) Read it--it's good!

The Dead are all Living--by Kabbal: This fic blew me away when I first read it. It's such a unique take on the retirement trope, I just adore this interpretation of Simon as an aging recluse while he builds his home. I tend to lean towards more subtle, grounded characterizations of Mr Riley, and this really fits the bill. All of these glimpses and fragments into his post-military life contribute to an overarching love story; the scenes with Johnny are so poignant, it's like you're pining alongside them both. I love how not-perfect they are; flawed and difficult and real. There are some moments and lines that just....struck something in me so deeply. I'm sure I'll still be thinking about it for a long long time <3

Portrait of Taction--by a_platypus: Another Simon-centric fic that I absolutely love. The character voice in this is off the charts, I can hear him so vividly in all of his inner dialogue and stunted attempts at conversation. Simon is so endearingly dense in this fic, you're just waiting for him to finally get his act together, but the clumsy, oblivious steps he takes in his relationship with Soap are truly a treat to read. I love this version of Johnny too--confident and considerate, but still hopelessly crushing on his superior. It's comedic, well-written, and the paragraphs describing Soap's journal give some of the best insights into his character I've seen <3

come on, haunt me--by flyby2: This was a really good long fic that I took my time savoring. What could have been a typical 'on leave' fic instead took time to develop a unique spin on the backstories as well as throwing our boys into some wholesome encounters. Both Soap and Ghost felt very true to character, and I appreciate the exploration of PTSD and the subsequent struggles that come along with...all that. There was a really nice balance in having their romance spread across the chapters, and I can promise a very sweet, happy conclusion <3

in the mess of it all--by flowersferns: A lovely one-shot that exhibits some of my favorite aspects of these two characters. I'm a sucker for 'one of them is hurt, the other is freaking out, they are both idiots in love, etc'. There are some really great dialogue and character moments in this, plus the overall prose hits hard. Love this take on their romance--the mutual trust, the familiarity of their bond. And just the general theme of impermanence--the inevitability of what this relationship means for them--two soldiers, willing and ready to sacrifice their lives at a moment's notice, still clinging to each other because...god...that's all they have---big fan of this :'D <3

Lapsus--by Lisbetadair: Another really great one-shot and 'missing scene' fic. The authenticity in the writing is spot-on--it's like you can feel Soap's pain right off the bat. I love how smoothly the banter flows between the two, and the attention to detail and references all help lend to that 'hardened military man' exterior. Ghost smelling like flowers because of a face wipe is such a delightful addition, plus the scene where Soap is, ah, donald-ducking it in just a t-shirt with his jewels out is such a funny mental image, I still think of it fondly from time to time. It's funny, it's surprisingly cute, it's very in-character. Stick around for some awkward but adorable cuddles <3

I'm sure I have more to recommend, but these are the ones I can personally endorse for now~

#asks #fic rec #I've never actually done a fic rec list like this before...#a small glimpse into my nightly routine of browsing the ao3 trenches for something remotely readable 🫡#funny how most of these are Ghost centric...#I'm *very* particular on how I prefer Soap to be portrayed and wooo boy...is it a struggle 😔

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cookiecobwebs · 2 years ago

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Disco Elysium lines that haunt me #7

[image description: A screenshot of a line of dialogue from the video game Disco Elysium. It reads: Ancient Reptilian Brain - Oh yeah, baby. Frame your suffering as a masterpiece. Only one problem -- no one’s watching. It’s boring, buddy, boring as death.

End ID]

#Disco Elysium

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crystalflygeo · 6 months ago

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Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: Your usual mentions of slavery and sexual themes, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. Also allusions to depression and mentions of death.

notes: Aahahaha this took forever..... allow me top explain: first of all my new job is killing me and second of all I'm going through a hard period where I don't really like anything I write anymore. This work in particularly I kept struggling with the pacing, the dialogues, the way I wanted feelings to come across or scenes to flow it's just hhhnnnggg. I told a couple of friends that I set the bar so high with the first part I feel like nothing else I write will be that good. Then the second part was "ok" but cut off in a cliffhanger and has been there for SO LONG that now I feel this will be underwhelming after all the buildup//hit

I hope it's not. I hope it's good.

Anyway this part is in Zhongli's pov and contains flashbacks which will be fully in italics! Enjoy! and thanks for caring so much about this story ;w; ILU all <3

<- Part 2.

Your instincts mess up with your head.

Your crying and anxiety have simmered to a cold numbness.

Hours blur together, time loses meaning.

The doctor comes by sometimes. The maids bring you food. But everything feels… off, distant.

This doesn’t feel… like your usual heats.

You curl up and sob, a choked soft noise.

You don’t feel hot, but rather cold. Limbs weak. Dizzy.

Your heart aches.

You’re so tired.

And so sleepy…

Zhongli puts down the seal stamp and deflates back into his chair with a sigh, he must have read the same line at least five times already. He cannot concentrate at all. It’s not even been three days and each hour, each minute, feels eternal.

He’s already gotten so used to your presence, so smitten with you and your little quirks, your rare smiles, the way your ears and tail flicker, your pretty eyes…

And he remembers those same eyes begging for him, teary. Your pitiful cry. Your distressed scent.

Guilt eats at him. As well as something else…

He’s been restless, barely slept. Your scent is a siren’s song on the blankets, tart and fresh and tantalizing, but you are not with him. Anxious energy flows in his veins. This emotion, this thing that is like regret and sorrow and fear all tangled together, cleaves him through. His instincts are screaming at him, rattling inside a cage of his own making. His mate, his precious Omega is in heat, you’re scared and lonely and need him. Zhongli has to suppress a growl and feel the shudder of his scales at the fact that he’s not with you. In your nest. Taking care of you.

It’s agonizing.

"How is she?"

The same question, over and over, at any chance he gets.

"She refuses to eat, your majesty." Xiao tells him, and he can feel the concern in the younger Alpha’s voice. “According to the maids she only took a few bites of the ajilenak nuts, the rest of the food was left untouched.”

…

"She's um... she's always sleeping when I go check up on her." Ganyu explains a little crestfallen. She too is worried. “A-at least I think she’s in no pain… she was clinging to one of your hanfus.”

…

"You should go see her, Zhongli." Ping states, a rare serious expression on her usual gentle factions. “Baizhu says she’s going through the worst case of separation sickness he’s ever seen. Is that really what you want your poor Yin to go through?”

He lets out a frustrated rumble.

“Of course not. But it’s for the best, I don’t want to… take advantage of her, or force her to anything.” Zhongli frowns, trying to focus on the papers in front of him again, in an attempt to ignore her piercing gaze.

“Is it really any of that if she wants her mate?” Ping retorts. “She was begging you.”

I know.

He growls this time, and shakes his head at his memory of you. It haunts him.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“So, you’re deciding for her then? Is that it? Honestly, are you listening to yourse-”

“She’s been conditioned to serve.” He cuts her off, voice grave and somber. “Trained to be submissive and please. She likes me simply because I’m kind to her, she wants me because she thinks it’s her obligation as my mate. I feel the pull of the bond too, the need, the yearning. But I also know she is afraid of Alphas and she thinks… she thinks she has to obey me. That she owes me something or that own her.” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need to bond her. I shouldn’t have bonded her. I just… wanted her to be free and instead I chained her to me. And now she’s in heat…”

And it drives him insane.

“Listen to me, we’ve both spent time with her, enough to know she’s opening up and learning to voice her feelings…” Ping reasons gently. “It’s a slow process, don’t hurt her this way. At the very least… go see her.”

“I lost control once with just one kiss from her. I will not do it again. I will not harm her any further.”

The elderly woman keeps silent for a few moments. Zhongli sighs and rests his forehead in his palm in defeat.

And then Ganyu approaches, a little tense, a stack of papers in her hands.

“Your majesty, the Qixing are starting to arrive, council meeting will begin soon.”

“Very well. Thank you Ganyu.” He stands up and nods at her, then turns to Ping and his demeanor softens a little. “You know I just want to correct my mistakes, and give her the life she deserves. At least a fraction of it, of happiness.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way… Zhongli sighed as he walked up to the room where the “reunion” with the sumerian would take place. It was long overdue seeing as he had spent the night by your side, refusing to leave after you had cried and begged so desperately…

After he had bonded you.

He had initially taken the eremite’s claims with a grain of salt, but naturally he had to make sure. The last dragonblood had supposedly died decades ago, so how…?

And yet when he saw you for the first time in that room, he knew.

You were real, you were beautiful. Suddenly he felt a million things at once: He wanted to get to know you, stay close to you, protect you. Old draconic instinct vibrating excitedly on his soul. You smelled vaguely familiar, your tail was gorgeous, your ears adorable. What if you didn’t like him though? What if he harmed you? Scared you? Suddenly he was nervous, nervous of ruining this, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in so long, like when he’d been young and Liyue had been at war and he had lost everything to fire and smoke and dust and he had to make difficult decisions and-

He had always calculated his moves. No room for risks. Too much at stake.

But you, you disarmed him. Completely.

You, with your polite gentleness despite the obvious cracks beneath the surface.

You, with your beautiful looks and enormous potential, even if you didn’t see it yourself.

You, with that look of yearning and hope, with your soft lips and sweet moans, with your warm body fitting perfectly against his.

For once, he allowed himself to make a decision with his heart, not logic, not politics. Just instincts.

And he claimed you…

…

He enters the room. A couple Millelith soldiers stationed by the door, Xiao standing by his side loyally as he sits at his place of honor as the emperor. Your ‘master’, an Alpha eremite named Zaheer, kneels respectfully a little below.

“I see you liked her, your majesty” He offers a sly smirk. “Did she satisfy you properly? She’s been trained on her gag reflexes to-”

Zhongli -Morax- resists the urge to growl. “We are not here to discuss that.”

“Ah, of course, business!”

Business.

“Since she’s such an exotic and well-trained slave I suppose we could agree on…”

“Do you think of me an idiot, Zaheer?” Morax’s eyes narrow.

“P-Pardon me?”

“She is a pureblood xiānshòu. I want to know exactly how she ended up being enslaved by you and your people.”

Cold and calculating golden eyes stare down at the eremite.

“W-What… she’s desert-born!” Zaheer retorts back angrily “She was born at a heat house. Maybe she has traits from your people because one of them decided to get a cheap fuck while traveling.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Morax asks unfazed “Liyue has records of the last of her kind disappearing and presumably being murdered when a village near Sumeru borders was razed to the ground. Do you have a disclosure?”

Zaheer stands up and growls, clearly an Alpha not used to having to bow his head and accept things not going his way.

Clearly an Alpha used to intimidating and attacking others.

Xiao wields his spear and changes his stance to an offensive one. The Millelith guards also tense.

Zaheer gets even more irritated, feeling like a caged animal. Backed into a corner. “Emperor or not” He starts through gritted teeth. “If you’re not going to pay me then I’ll take my merchandise back and do business elsewhere where I’m not being accused of ridiculous claims.”

“You’re right that I won’t be doing any business with you, but we’ll see how ridiculous those claims truly are. Zaheer, by my word as the emperor you will now remain detained in Liyue.” Morax sentences.

The eremite’s red eyes widen in shock and rage and the desert-dweller shoots up to attack Morax, getting easily overpowered and neutralized by Xiao’s quick moves. In seconds his weapon drops to the floor as the Yaksha general points his spear at the unconscious man. The Millelith quickly retrieve him and the blade before Morax simply nods at them.

Months. It had been months since then and he had to begrudgingly release the man as no accusation connected him to anything. They were essentially out of leads. There did appear to be documentation of your birth at a desert village but Zhongli would be hard pressed to believe the half-assed story you’ve been told…

And since you are pureblood, then both of your parents, and most importantly your dam, was also a dragonblood. That’s at the very least one Liyue citizen enslaved in a foreign nation.

He would get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, he had to cast those worries aside.

The Seven members of the council sit around the large table, the Liyue Qixing, leaders of all the commerce and trade sectors of the nation.

Zhongli takes his place at the head of the table. Ganyu does so as well by the sideline.

“Very well, what’s our first topic today?”

“Did Master just… leave?”

There was silence at the table, Zhongli and Ping sit frozen and you get just a bit nervous.

It’d been a few days since you started your new life, and though Zhongli was sure you were warming up to it he knew you still had a long way to go. It was probably still a little surreal for you… such a big change from everything you knew.

The tension on his shoulders quickly drops again. He continues eating. “Yes.” He says simply. Ping follows his lead, saying nothing.

The faster you forget about that eremite, the better.

“Hm…” You continue eating as well. Your expression is a little conflicted…

You inhale.

“Was he… happy… that I finally found a mate?”

Zhongli turns to you sharply and tenses again like a cat bristling. He holds back his tongue so as to not say something he’d regret. Why do you still care about that despicable man’s opinion? Why do you still seek his approval? Did you really think he cared about you? Zhongli desperately wants to make you understand how that slave-owner only saw you as an object, how he fed you lies, how his mistreatment is inexcusable…

But he can only imagine how deep your scars run, and how that toxic mindset has settled and accompanied you for years. He cannot judge you for caring about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Why do you ask, dear?” Ping asks instead.

“I don’t know…” You mumble, poking at the congee with your spoon. “I always wanted to make him proud.”

Proud.

Him?

“I think what matters most is how you feel.” Zhongli says, his hand reaching out for yours invitingly and you place your fingers on his palm, getting a soft reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to rely on how others view you or think about you.”

You seem thoughtful for a second, your ears flickering back insecure but then standing up alert again. “I am happy” You admit. “Very happy. I have the best mate in the world.” You smile brightly.

Zhongli’s heart does a flip.

“With the excessive rains in the northern villages, there have been many floods and a lot of crops have been severely damaged or lost. Our previous contingency plan is in action already and donations are being sent to help the affected families. However, we must prepare for a decline in the harvest of certain grains and vegetables this season, as well as an increase in prices for a few months due to the shift in demand and supply.” Keqing explains expertly, the young alpha’s expression is serious and solemn.

“It’s an opportunity to strengthen commerce with Mondstadt and Sumeru.” Ningguang chimes in, leaning back on her chair, arms crossed. “The value of jade and other crystals is on the rise as well.”

“Not to mention, we’ll be employing several architects from the Akademiya to help with the rebuilding.” Keqing adds, turning to Ganyu, who nods.

“Greater lord Rukkhadevata and lesser Lord Kusanali have agreed on a certain exchange program with Liyue. I started drafting up some proposals already if you’d like to see.” The blue-haired secretary passes along some documents.

Ningguang’s eyes skim along the page. “It’s almost like our new Sumeru-born empress was a sign.” She smirks. “By the way, where is she?” She turns to Zhongli, curious about her fellow Omega.

“She’s rather indisposed at the moment.” The emperor replies dryly, not wanting to delve much onto the touchy subject. “Ganyu this looks good, however we need to think about-”

There is a knock that quickly surprises everyone. Who could interrupt a council meeting and why?

Baizhu peeks in with Changsheng curled around his neck, a frown on his usually gentle features. “Your majesty, a word. It’s an emergency.”

All the members at the table stare silently as Zhongli stands and follows the doctor.

Ganyu has a bad feeling…

“We have no time, follow me.” The green-haired doctor walks briskly along the wooden corridors, he looks… frustrated, dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to panic. He never panics. But something inside him does. It’s obvious that this has to do with you.

“I apologize, your majesty. I thought it was just a case of separation sickness but… the empress is showing signs of widow’s wasting.”

Zhongli stops.

His heart skips a beat. His skin prickles with dread.

“She’s… dying?”

Baizhu shakes his head. “It hasn’t reached that point yet, but… she’s deteriorating.”

The guilt is back. The fear.

“Given what happened, I’m pretty certain the shock of your rejection was the trigger. Still, it is highly unusual for a Yin to suffer from widow’s wasting without their partner actually dying, even more so for it to settle so quickly. Her reaction is akin to someone who had never left their mate’s side for years.” Baizhu explains.

You trusted him.

And he turned his back on you.

What have I done?

“In any casssse, it’ssss not too late.” Changsheng’s little voice pipes in. Baizhu keeps leading the way and Zhongli follows, though he obviously knows the entire palace like the palm of his hand, at the moment his thoughts are scattered and far far away.

“She needs her mate’s reassurance. I have done what I can with medicine but this is a bonded pair matter.” Finally, he stops at a juncture and turns to Zhongli. “Please, your majesty, only you can save her. I will tell Ganyu, Xiao and Ping of the situation, and if you need anything, just ask.”

Zhongli nods, mute.

The snake narrows her eyes. “Don’t leave her sssside.”

“Changsheng.” Baizhu shushes.

She is right to chastise him. He deserves that and more.

“I won’t.” Zhongli nods and heads down the hall.

Widow’s wasting.

The words echo in his head. He’s seen the damage it can do. How a broken bond, the loss of the most important person, can destroy someone inside. Did you really care that much about him? Did he really hurt you that badly?

“Please…”

He didn’t mean to.

“I have the best mate in the world.”

He feels like a monster.

“I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.”

He needs to see you. He needs to make sure you’re ok…

He stands in front of the nest room. The same one where he first met you.

Opening the doors only slightly to slip inside, Zhongli's eyes widen and a hand flies to cover his nose and mouth when a strong smell shakes him to his very core.

The room he expected to be completely saturated with intense heat pheromones… instead bears the acrid scent of despair.

This isn’t the lustful call to breed and have children that made an omega vulnerable and pliant. No. It is a desperate cry from a heartbroken omega for their mate to come back, to stay with them, to love and protect them. It is grief.

You are suffering because of him.

To think all this time… he was afraid he'd make you uncomfortable. That he’d scare you, hurt you, ruin the bond you’ve carefully built. Instead, he is overcome by an all-consuming terror. Every part of him screaming at his mate's weak essence.

And there you are, his precious treasure, his sweet dragoness.

You lay curling in on yourself letting out small muffled sobs.

“Y/n…”

No reaction.

“Darling, my dear dragoness…” He rushes up to you immediately, grabs your hand and pets your hair. You look so weak, your skin is feverish, how has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime…

You shift a little and your eyes blink open, staring at him dazed, red and puffy and your expression defeated. You let out a pitiful whine and more of that bitter sad scent is released.

“No my dear, don’t cry, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Zhongli coos as he curls up to you, frantically starting to scent and nip at your neck and shoulders affectionately. His horns manifest and his tail follows through, lashing about a little restless. The bond… feels wrong, broken. He should be able to intimately feel you this close and yet…

He tries to reposition you a little so you can lie on top of him, rest on his chest. It’s concerning how easily he can do so, you’re like a ragdoll in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. His hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing at the traces of tears in your cheeks. You let out a frustrated whimper. “Shhhh shh it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

Even if he says it a million times, it won’t feel enough.

Zhongli nuzzles at your neck and proceeds to do something he hasn’t done since he was practically a teen. He purrs. It’s a little rusty, comes off more as a grumbling but it seems to work as he feels you relax just slightly in his arms.

“I’m right here” Zhongli’s deep voice assures you, tugging you closer, mouthing at the soft skin along your collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m all yours, I promise, I promise. I won’t leave you alone, not ever.” He soothes.

He lowers a bit of your clothes at the shoulder and grazes his fangs along your faded mark, you tense and let out a long shaky breath.

“Everything will be ok.” He kisses the spot. “I’m sorry.”

And then he sinks his fangs in to reestablish the claim.

You cry out in pain and squirm, clawing at his clothes, but he holds you, his hand rubbing circles at your back, his tail intertwining with yours.

...

.....

...

At first nothing changes, but after a few moments… a low strained purr bubbles up from within you again.

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

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two for the price of one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you've ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That's what brothers are for, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader & Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Like, I literally don't even know anymore. Tommy is a cuck in this one, Joel is a dirty talking menace. Pre/No Outbreak AU. Talk of infertility, mention of consuming alcohol, Breeding kink, girlfriend sharing, masterbation (M), oral (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, creampie, plenty of dirty talk, praise kink.

Word Count | 4.2k

Authors Note | I just want to shoutout the anon who left this request in my inbox. It rotted my brain and now we're here. Special shoutout to the JFC - specifically @sinsofsummers for telling me I could do this and @dinsdjrn and @cavillscurls for their help with some of the dialogue here. This is just filth. Pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy.

That damn piece of paper was haunting you, even from its place deep in the drawer where Tommy had stuffed it when he’d opened it and showed you. Its words telling you what you’d both anticipated but had wanted to prove wrong. Tommy. Infertile. Dashing those hopes of your beautiful babies with thick curls and big, beautiful eyes. He’d taken it hard, like it was an abject failure of his own manhood – the one thing he should be able to do beyond anything else, give you the child you so desperately yearned for, he couldn’t.

There was a week of tension, where you treaded on eggshells, trying not to bring it up, despite desperately wanting to discuss other options. Then came his acceptance of his emotions, late at night, curled up behind you in bed. It started with a light sniffle, then you could feel his tears drip onto the skin of your shoulders, then the whole-body sobs as he held you, told you he was sorry. You’d turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck and held him, whispering softly that it was okay, that it didn’t matter, that you had options. You could still have a family, just perhaps not in the traditional sense.

Then came the weeks of appointments. You’d met with an adoption agency first. They’d talked you through the application process, what they expected of you, talked about the type of family you want, but Tommy had been adamantly against it for your first child. He wanted something borne of your blood, of your flesh, even if it wasn’t his that joined it.

Then there were the medical appointments talk of special drugs Tommy could take, or the possibility of IVF, even a sperm donor. It had started to look like these could be an option until the cost was placed in front of you. There was no way either of you could afford it, not even together, not even if you sold the house for something smaller. You’d reached the end of the line with no answers and the thought that you’d have to resign yourself to being childless.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? You could take all the love you’d wrapped up for a baby and put it somewhere else. You could love your niece Sarah harder, give some of it to the children you worked with each day at the school – you didn’t need to be a mother to feel complete. The longer you sat with it though, the more you felt something missing. The end of the line was frustrating and lonely. That was, until Tommy came up with an alternative.

It's late on a Thursday evening. You’ve just cleaned up from dinner and you’re lounging on the couch with Tommy’s arms wrapped around you, your head resting on one of his shoulders.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He muses above, settling his lips on the crown of your head.

“Always.” You squeeze the hand you’re resting on his thigh.

“What if we ask Joel?”

“To fix the back steps?” You ask, referencing the rotting steps that had needed sorting since winter cleared, “Can’t you just do it yourself?”

“No sugar,” He clears his throat, “Y’know what, forget I said anythin’.”

“Tommy,” You grumble, pushing yourself off his shoulder, you rest an arm across the back of the couch where he’s sitting, “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.”

He’s nervous. You can see the bouncing of his knee, something you’d clocked was a nervous habit on your first date. He’s also running a hand along the back of his neck, exactly what he always does when he’s got to say something difficult. You can also see the start of prickles of sweat on his brow. He’s not just nervous, he’s uncomfortable. You rest a hand on his shoulder, the way he’d taught you to do it when you’d first met, when he was still grappling with the anxiety and PTSD of being a veteran.

“I’m worried I’m gonna scare you, sugar.”

You run a hand through his thick head of curls, “Tommy, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise to just hear me out before freaking out, okay?”

You stick your pinky up, motioning for him to join his own with yours, “Pinky swear, Tommy Miller.”

“What if we ask Joel, you know….” He trails off, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he searches for the words he needs, “Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it.”

“Just take a deep breath and say it all at once.”

He takes a deep breath in like you instructed, blowing it out through his mouth, “What if we ask Joel to help with gettin’ you pregnant?”

It takes a minute for what he’s said to properly sink it. Your first train of thought, stupidly, is that Joel is a carpenter, not a doctor, so there’s no possible way he’s qualified to help with this. Then it washes over you all at once. Heat prickling at your cheeks, breath hitching in your throat, you think you might be sick.

“You want me to sleep with your brother?” You ask, tone coming out far more accusatory than intended, you soften your expression and squeeze his shoulder when you notice how hurt he looks.

“Well, it certainly ain’t my first option, or the second and third for that matter,” He sighs, “Look, it was stupid, forget I asked.”

He moves to get up from the couch, but you’re dragging him back down, fingers gripped around his wrist, “It’s not stupid Tommy, but you gotta help me understand how this is an option.”

He’s looking at you now, big brown eyes with a hint of sadness staring into your own. He cups your cheek in one of his palms, “I know how bad you want this sugar, how much you want a family,” He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, sorry we can’t afford the fancy drugs that would make this easier,” He sighs deeply, “The only option we have is to do somethin’ like this, and if I’m gonna let another man touch you, I want it to be someone I trust, and he’s the only person I would ever trust with this,” He rubs a hand over his face, “Least I know it might have a chance of lookin’ somethin’ like me too, instead of goddamn Steven from Ohio or whoever they’d use.”

You feel your gut twist when he speaks. This absolutely batshit crazy idea is actually coming from an incredible place of care. He knows you want a child; lord knows you were trying your hardest together to make it happen before that damn piece of paper had to go and ruin it all.

“You wouldn’t find it weird, knowing I’d had sex with your brother?”

“Well, it doesn’t mean anythin’, does it baby?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” You shrug, it was just a means to an end, “You think he’ll agree?”

“I don’t know baby,” He answers honestly, wrapping you back into his arms, “I’ll take him out this weekend, ask him and see what he thinks.”

There’s still something here that doesn’t sit right with you. Sure, it makes sense, and of all the people who you could choose for yourself you’d probably have settled on Joel too. Stoic and sensible Joel, brooding and grumpy Joel. He’d always been kind, had welcomed you into the family with open arms, praised you multiple times for finally keeping his brother on the straight and narrow. He was a good man, loved his little girl with all his heart, would never hurt a hair on your head, but you were still uncomfortable.

“If he does agree,” You shift nervously on the couch, “I want you to be there.”

“You don’t trust him?”

“No, of course I trust him Tommy,” You sigh, “I’d just feel more comfortable if you were there.”

“Anythin’ for you, sugar.”

It’s early on Sunday morning when Tommy rolls into bed, 3am to be exact, smelling of whiskey to tell you he’s finally asked Joel to help you. He slinks onto bed and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing over your neck and down your shoulder to wake you. When you finally grumble and admit you’re very muchawake now, with his hand gripping your hip, he’s speaking in a hushed whisper.

“He said yes.”

“He take much convincing?” You ask, shuffling around in his arms so you’re facing him, his face gripped in your palms.

“He was wary, thought I’d lost my mind for a good few minutes,” Tommy leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Told him it was my idea and you’d thought the same, but he came around, think he knows how much we both want this.”

A part of you had thought he’d say no. That there was no way that stoic, sensible Joel would ever consider sleeping with his brother’s girlfriend in order to knock her up, but he’d proved himself a man of many surprises before. As Tommy presses kisses to your lips and settles you both to sleep, there’s the bubbling of nerves in your belly, of doubt. Are you really doing the right thing? Is this going to make the dynamic between the three of you awkward as hell? Sure, you’re all grown adults and this is just a means to an end, but there’s still the unknown of what comes after.

Tommy goes out that morning and brings back a bag, filled with ovulation tests and, perhaps a little prematurely, pregnancy tests. You do one of the ovulation tests that morning and as expected, the screen shows a sad face, gratefully showing you that you still have time to prepare for what you’re going to do. Three days later when you do the test again, there’s a grinning happy face, almost taunting you that it’s time to face the music. You show the test to Tommy, who places a palm on the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. He murmurs that he’ll tell Joel, and that’s how not even twenty-four hours later, it really is time to bite the bullet.

It's late, Joel having insisted that he needed to make sure Sarah was settled and asleep before he came over. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, legs dangling aimlessly whilst you wait. You really had no idea how this was going to play out, so you’d dressed yourself in a simple cotton nightdress, silk robe tied around your middle for extra coverage. There was an empty whiskey tumbler on the nightstand. You’d had three, maybe four? Enough to take the edge off, but not too much that you weren’t aware of what was happening.

You hear the doorbell chime and then Tommy’s heavy footsteps downstairs as he opens the door. You can hear his voice and Joel’s mingling together, but you can’t decipher what either are saying. You probably don’t want too either. What could two brothers’ possibly have to say to each other when one is getting ready to sleep with the others girlfriend? You listen to them talk for a bit before you can hear two sets of feet ascending the stairs. You stand from the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself for another layer of comfort when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in!” You call, bouncing nervously from foot to foot.

The door swings open and Joel is stood there, dressed in his usual attire, dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt, work boots obviously discarded downstairs, Tommy knew you hated people tracking dirt into the house. He takes a moment to take the sight of you in and you think you must look ridiculous, silk robe making way to bare legs – it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he could just push the material up, do what he needed to do and be gone, but now you wonder if it looks like you’re trying to seduce him.

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel’s voice is soft and when you look into his eyes, they are too, and it does put you at some ease, “C’mere.” He’s motioning for you to step closer, opening his arms so he can pull you into a hug.

You’ve hugged Joel hundreds of times before this, in much the same way. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders, the other squeezing into the middle of your back. It’s usually friendly, meaningless really, but when you take in the press of his broad frame, you can’t help but realise you’re going to know him far more intimately than you’d ever imagined by the end of the night.

He releases you and you’re semi-aware that Tommy has slunk into the room behind his brother, he’s leaning against the wall as he watches Joel take hold of your hand, guiding you back to sit on the bed where you had been before. God, you think, he’s not wasting his time, he wants this to be over just as much as I do. You look up at his broad frame towering over you, if this was anyone else, you’d be intimidated, but he’s still got that soft look to his brown eyes. He shocks you next, cupping your jaw in his hand and running his calloused thumb over your bottom lip.

He turns his head to Tommy, “You wanna tell me what she likes?”

Oh. Oh. You’d expected something much more clinical than this. You’d never imagined he’d work to make sure you enjoyed it. You also turn your head in Tommy’s direction. He’s still leant against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other with his arms crossed.

“She likes getting her pussy eaten, don’t you baby?”

Joel is gently coaxing your face back to look at him, staring directly into your eyes, “That right, darlin’?” You look up at him as you nod, mouth open a little in shock, “Wanna make sure you enjoy this,” He’s saying, “Gonna take real good care of you.”

Then, he’s dropping to his knees at the front of the bed, shifting so your legs are draped over his wide shoulders. Whilst Joel is focused on kissing trails from your knee, slowly up the expanse of your thigh, you look to Tommy, who has moved from the wall to sit in the small chair in the corner of the room that you would usually use to read in. He gives you a nod and a small smile, silently telling you to enjoy yourself. Your turn your attention back to Joel between your legs, who has slowly hitched up the cotton of your nightdress to pool at your hips, exposing your pussy to him.

You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin and there’s an anticipation building that you hadn’t expected. You’re moving your hips, almost subconsciously, to chase the relief you know his mouth was about to bring. Joel has his big palms on your hips then, holding you steady before he’s licking up the length of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so gently between your folds to find your clit. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t noticed you were even holding in, then Joel is moving again, tongue dipping into the entrance of your pussy, licking all the way up again before he’s laser focused on your clit.

Your hands instinctively rake through his hair, gripping the strands between your fingers to keep him in place as he uses the tip of his tongue to run tight, wet circles to your bundle of nerves. You’re propping yourself up with a hand on the mattress behind you whilst the other keeps its place locking in Joel’s hair. Then, you’re actually grinding your pussy into his mouth, desperate for more but scared to ask for it.

“It’s okay baby,” You hear Tommy speak from his place on the chair, “We want you to feel good, don’t be shy about askin’.”

You look down between your thighs and see Joel looking up at you, mouth still latched to your aching pussy, “Joel,” You groan, “Fingers, please.”

“So polite, darlin’.” He murmurs against your skin before he’s doing as you asked.

He’s still showering your clit with attention, the sounds of his literal slurping doing nothing to stop the flush of arousal you’re feeling right now, as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your slick cunt. You don’t know what you’d expected of Joel in this kind of scenario, perpetually single Joel, who never really seemed interested in anyone. You knew now, as he was curling those fingers inside of you, pressing into the spot that had you crying out and gripping his hair tighter than ever, that it wasn’t because of his abilities that he was single.

“Fuck, holy shit Joel, I think….”

“You gonna come for him baby?” You hear Tommy ask from the corner of the room.

“I think…” You let out a sharp cry, “Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting his fingers into your pussy, tongue still running those tight circles over your bud, but now he latches his lips around it and sucks, actually sucks at your clit. You’re lost. Your elbow buckles and you collapse on your back onto the bed, crying out a string of expletives as Joel works you through your high. Pleasure has burst across your skin, finding every single possible nerve ending and setting you on fire, your thighs are gripping his face as you ride out the last of the shuddering aftershocks on his fingers, pussy walls fluttering around them as you try and catch your breath.

You can feel Joel recoiling from between your thighs. You can hear the sound of him undoing his belt and then it clattering to the floor. You use your weak arms to push yourself up the length of the bed, head settling in the pile of pillows at the top. You turn your face to Tommy and gasp, hunger igniting in your belly at what you see. Somewhere in the middle of Joel shattering your world between your thighs, Tommy has shucked his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. He’s using his fist to work himself in slow strokes at the sight of you.

You can feel Joel’s body clambering onto the mattress with you, settling between your thighs with his wide hips spreading your legs an obscene amount to accommodate him. He’s taking hold of your jaw in his hand, dragging your attention back to his face, “You’re fuckin’ me tonight pretty girl,” He growls, “Eyes on me.”

It isn’t a torturous job by any means. Joel is weathered, his skin holding the early sign of wrinkles at his eyes, beard starting to grey, but you can’t deny that he’s handsome. Especially when he’s looking at you with eyes that are begging to devour you. He sits back on his knees, taking hold of the belt that is keeping your robe shut across your body to undo the loose knot you’d tied in it. He’s dragging you up by a wrist just far enough to shuck the material from your shoulders, laying you back down to play with the straps of your nightdress.

“Can I undress you properly, darlin’?” He asks.

You gulp. Finally noticing that he’s stripped to just his boxers, outline of his incredibly hard cock visible when you let your eyes drag down that far.

“Go on baby,” Tommy encourages from across the room, “Let him see how beautiful you are.”

Your eyes are back to holding court with Joel’s own and you nod. He’s pulling you up by the wrist again, sitting you up so he can drag that final bit of material off your body. You lie back down and watch as his eyes drag over every single inch of your skin.

“Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

He’s got those wide palms dragging down the curves of your sides, holding you in place to just watch you for a second before he’s hooking his thumbs into his underwear and dragging them down his thighs, freeing his cock. He’s fisting himself a few times before he hooks your knees over his arms and slides himself into your waiting cunt.

It’s all you can do to let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion, but fuck he feels good. You look up at his face, eyes closed and breathing deeply as he stills inside you once he’d buried in you to the hilt.

“So fucking tight, darlin’,” He groans as he pulls himself almost all the way out before starting the long, torturous thrust back inside you, “So fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”

“Fuck Joel,” You throw your head back into the pillow, “Feel so good inside me.”

He’s picking up the pace now, thrusting into you in earnest now. The angle he’s got you folded into means his cock in brushing that fucking spot inside you that is driving you crazy, raising goosebumps and setting you on fire, drawing high-pitched whines from your throat whenever he finds it.

“Touch yourself baby,” You hear Tommy’s throaty request, you don’t dare look at him for fear of the sight of him finishing you off, “Joel’s gonna want you to come on his cock, so show him what a good girl you can be.”

Joel is already circling your wrist with his hand, dragging your fingers to your pussy as he watches where his cock disappears inside you. Your own movements are sloppy but the slick that Joel’s mouth has dragged from you make the movement of circles on your own engorged and sensitive clit easy. It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit you, clenching your pussy around Joel’s hard cock which hasn’t let up for a single second since he started pounding into you.

“She’s so fuckin’ pretty, Tommy,” Joel’s voice is low and husky above you, almost desperately so, “So fuckin’ pretty when she comes like that.”

“Don’t I know it, brother.” You hear his strangled reply.

Joel is all of a sudden flipping you on the bed, your legs straddling his hips, palms planted on his chest to steady yourself.

“Take what you want darlin’,” He’s groaning, “Ride my cock and knock yourself up.”

You do just that, grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his cock with your fingers digging halfmoon shapes into the meat of his chest as you lean forward, bouncing on his cock in earnest.

His palms are gripping the globes of your ass, knees coming up to rest on your bare skin as he starts fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts halfway. The sounds of your skin slapping together is obscene but oh so delicious.

“You like when my brother fucks you like that?” Tommy’s deep voice draws your attention to him, he’s still got his cock in his hand but he’s thrusting up into it and you can tell just by the look on his face that he’s close.

You look him dead in the eyes, breathy moan falling from your lips when you say, “I fucking love it, Tommy.”

It all happens at once. Tommy is moaning and you can see him start to spill across his hand. Then Joel is gripping your hips, stilling your movements as you feel him start to come inside you, filling you up with his cum, your name falling from his mouth with a tangle of expletives built in for good measure.

“Fuckin’ take it, pretty girl.” Joel is growling from beneath you, pushing his cock impossibly deep inside you like he’s begging your pussy to soak it all up, to get it to take.

The room is silent save for the sounds of the three of you trying to catch your breath. You collapse, somewhat unceremoniously off Joel’s body and onto the mattress, placing an arm over your eyes to try and calm yourself down. Why the fuck was that so hot? Is all you can think. You’re only semi-aware of him shifting and gathering his things, only semi-aware of Tommy cleaning his hand off on his jeans to re-dress himself. You’re almost asleep when you feel the press of a kiss to your cheek, opening your eyes to find it was in fact Joel who did it, thumb running soothing circles across the skin of your hip.

“Thank you.” You say meekly, reaching up to cup his face in your palm.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” He smiles down at you, “I hope it helps.”

Then he’s gone, following Tommy out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. You can, once again hear their muted voices, but this time, instead of setting you on edge, it lulls you to sleep. By the time Tommy comes back, climbs into bed and spoons you from behind, you’re almost asleep.

“Did so fuckin’ good for me baby,” He murmurs into your ear, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

Through the haze of sleep taking over you, you manage to mumble out, “Hope it works.”

He chuckles, his body shaking your own where he has you wrapped in his embrace, “Me too baby, me too.”

Within minutes you’re asleep. So asleep that you don’t feel his hand resting above your womb, silently praying that sooner, rather than later, he’s going to start feeling you swell there. Silently thanking the good lord for giving him such an understanding brother and a girl willing to do anything for him.

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inaconstantstateofchange · 9 months ago

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Who Builds Theseus' Ship?

This ties in to a greater discussion about Larian's changes to the game post-Full Release, and whether you consider those changes to be a good thing or a bad thing. Personally speaking, the quality-of-life and gameplay mechanics improvements were appreciated, while the direct changes to characters and especially characterization were not so much.

In such discussions, I often see people downplaying the actual changes to characterization that have been made thus far as "minor" things, but I often see one of the most glaring examples of a characterization change left out, because so many people aren't even aware of it ever happening:

Halsin.

For those who don't know, if you were romancing Halsin at the time of the original full release, and for almost four months afterward, if you took him with you to Act 3's orgy scene in Sharess's Caress, he would open up about a situation in his distant past. He would tell you about how he had briefly been "something between guest, prisoner, and consort" in a drow House, and been kept there for three years before escaping.

He stated that this was something that happened "a long time ago", when he was "a foolhardy young druid", which would mean it would likely have been between ages 100 and 245 — or at minimum 105 years ago, and at (likely) maximum 250 years ago. He closed the discussion with a line that really struck me, and that gave me such an appreciation for his character, and for the writers who had created it:

The passage of time has a strange way of polishing even the most arduous of memories into precious keepsakes.

As someone in their late-20s, with a number of traumatic events in my past, this resonated so much both with my experience of those events – once harrowing and haunting, now just simple happenings that do not affect me the way they once did – and as an inspirational message, that hurt would not necessarily linger forever.

Not only that, I really valued the insight it gave into Halsin's personality, further showing him to be someone who was deeply complex and meditative, always looking for meaning and something to take away or learn from any experience. It also served to showcase the likely reality of the relationship elves and druids both would have to the concepts of time and memory. (Another example of this is the experience of Shadowheart's father compared to her mother at the hands of the Sharrans.)

I started playing the game almost immediately upon its release in August, and was intrigued by Halsin from the start. He was someone who was kind and heartfelt, but also very settled in himself and with a simultaneously rigid and very flexible moral code. It was that complexity that drew me to him, and I appreciated the inclusion of a character distinct from the Origin companions, all at close to the lowest point of their lives.

It was to my surprise to find that this appreciation for his character and perspective on his Act 3 revelation was not unanimous. As it turned out, there was a vocal group of people claiming that this writing was problematic, and that Halsin clearly didn't even realize he was actually traumatized, and that Larian needed to fix it. Not everyone joining in with this crusade had even played the game.

And, ultimately, in a pattern they have continued to follow, Larian responded. They fixed it. At the end of November, as part of Patch 5, they uploaded an edited version of the scene with new dialogue, where the player could express this "reality" to Halsin, in one of the most gallingly patronizing statements I've ever seen.

Sounds traumatic. You may need to reflect on that.

(If someone said this to me after I had opened up to them about my trauma and my experience of it to them, we would not be maintaining a cordial relationship afterward.)

Halsin's new response to these dialogue options is a cringing, self-deprecating cascade of how the player is of course right, and he should have known better, and time could "prove to be a trickster on one's recollections" and that perhaps he had "lost perspective".

Quite frankly, it is a completely different character answering, and an almost directly opposing overall message about the role of time in healing, and the path forward when it comes to trauma. No more "one day these events will not hurt to recall the way they do now". In its stead: "only healing that looks a specific way and follows a specific path is acceptable - anything else and you are simply a poor fool lying to yourself."

The following quote is from a comment left on a video of Halsin's original dialogue in that scene, before the changes, and is just one example of how much that representation meant to more than just me to see:

That said, Halsin is trauma recovery goals for me absolutely. Being able to remember without actually being triggered? Being able to fully and freely engage HOW ID LIKE TO instead of being fettered by trauma responses? Goals. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there 100%, we don’t get elven lifetimes irl, but his level of healing brings me hope.

Ultimately, this post is not meant to argue that you should agree with me that one is better than the other. More so, I want to highlight that this existed — for many people, this was their experience of events and characters, and that is not so easily redacted. And I also want to just state, for the record, that Larian's way of approaching narrative and characterization changes to their full-release game has been incredibly frustrating. I did not agree, in August, to play an Early Access game with the inherent understanding that any potential narrative aspect might change at any time. I purchased a full-release game, and immersed myself in the story and the characters, to get to know them as the writers had originally presented.

And when Larian makes these changes based on fan feedback, they are explicitly making decisions about which fans matter, and specifically, which fans matter most. Rather than allowing everyone to experience the story they decided to tell, and draw from it what they take away, and let that spark discussion and engagement, they made the decision to defer to some fans over others, and prioritize their experience of the narrative — something that, no matter how well-intended, is always going to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

#voidling speaks #bg3 #bg3 meta #my meta #it feels insane to have to do archival work for a six month old game #but here we are #halsin #larian #larian critical #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 halsin #meta

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sluglore · 21 hours ago

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Explaining The Iterator's Purpose (And Why They Weren't Made to Circumvent The Echoes)

Alright, I know there's already been a few posts like this out there, like this older one from @halvedforest, and this recent one from @noizepushr, which are both good posts, but I've been meaning to touch up and cross-post my own older misconceptions post from reddit for a while now, and provide a deeper, more expanded analysis as to why this misconception exists and explain what's actually going on, so here it finally is haha I'll also be using the term 'Benefactor' instead of 'Ancient', if people are confused about that, I intend to make a post about it eventually ^^

( If you're confused on who out there even believes this, this idea originated from Rain World YouTube lore videos, long before Downpour was ever a thing! It is unfortunately still quite prominent on there... but it's definitely getting better :3 )

This misconception stems from misreading the singular pearl to ever mention the echoes, being the Bright Red farm arrays pearl, so let me begin by attaching the specific section below:

“There were some horror stories though... That if your ego was big enough, not even the Void Fluid could entirely cross you out, and a faint echo of your pompousness would grandiosely haunt the premises forever. So even when the Void Fluid baths became cheaper, some would still starve and drink the bitter tea.” (Bright red Farm Arrays pearl dialogue)

Note the specific usage of “some” here. Echoes weren't presented as an issue significant to re-center Benefactor society around, (let alone build the iterators for) but as some horror stories which only "some" people (likely on the fringes of society) would believe in. Nowhere are we given anything that alludes to the existence of Echoes being regarded as a societal problem to address, much less have anything to do with the Iterators.

Additionally, although we know for a fact that echoes do exist, its fairly possible that most of Benefactor society didn't, as LTTM doesn't even know what they are either, regarding them as nothing more than superstition. On the very next line, LTTM confirms that the void baths continued all the same, while again mentioning that "some" would still choose to abstain from them, and drink the bitter tea.

Then what’s the purpose of the iterators if they weren't created to circumvent the echoes? What is The Big Problem that they are even trying to solve in the first place? Well, both FP, LTTM, and the Exterior colored pearl dialogue spell the answer out for you. In fact, it's the first thing FP even tells you!

“The good news first. In a way, I am what you are searching for. Me and my kind have as our purpose to solve that very oscillating claustrophobia in the chests of you and countless others. A strange charity - you the unknowing recipient, I the reluctant gift. The noble benefactors? Gone.” (Five Pebbles dialogue to Survivor) (Monk's version also hits similar notes)

Five pebbles introduces himself as a “reluctant gift," with his purpose being "to solve that very oscillating claustrophobia in the chests of you and countless others," meaning to solve the cycles for everyone and everything else.

If you bring Looks to the Moon a neuron, she has the chance to repeat the same exact explanation to you.

"We were supposed to help everyone, you know. Everything. That was our purpose: a great gift to the lesser beings of the world. When facing our inability to do so, we all reacted differently. Many with madness.”

FP, LTTM, and the rest of their kind were created to serve the rest of the world in finding a method of total mass ascension, of ending the cycle entirely for everyone.... and everything. Not only including the fauna of the world, like the slugcat, but the bedrock, microbes and even gases, as explicitly stated in this snippet from the Exterior pearl dialogue below:

“The Moral Argument: Five Pebbles is our Creation, and we have Parental Obligations towards him. As an Iterator, he is also a Gift of Charity from Us to The World (unable to reach Enlightenment by itself - being composed mostly of Rock, Gas, dull witted Bugs and Microbes - and towards which We thus have Obligations)” (Pale Green Exterior pearl dialogue)

Here we have the Benefactors define it very clearly, that as an iterator, Five Pebbles is a "Gift of Charity from Us to The World." It's important to note that many misinterpret the next section in parentheses as being about FP himself, but if it were, it would be the only time FP is ever referred to as “it”. What's really being described is the world, “unable to reach enlightenment by itself, being composed mostly of rock, gas, dull witted bugs and microbes” The world is unable to reach Enlightenment on it's own and therefore, that's why the iterators were created. (Also- when you think about it, the description of "being composed of rock, gas, and dull witted microbes" doesn't even really fit FP's description lol)

Quick but necessary tangent, the concept of non-living things being apart of the cycle is a little confusing, and tricky to quickly answer without going deep into cycle lore discussion, (I have an entire post in drafts dedicated to clearing this up) but it's actually incredibly important for understanding what The Great Problem is! To shed some light, it's not that non-living matter are able to somehow comprehend the cycles, but that the entire physical world itself is actually an intrinsic part of the cycles.

If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea. If you drill far enough into the earth you begin encountering a substance called Void Fluid. The deeper you go, the less rock and more Void Fluid. It's believed that there is a point where the rock completely gives way - below that would be the Void Sea. When that stone you placed on the ground has finally done its time in the sediments, it meets the Void Fluid and is dissolved, leaving the physical world. (Teal Subterranean pearl dialogue)

There's a reason that 'Cycles' is always plural in Rain World, because there's multiple of them! Organic life is in cycles, the physical bedrock of the world is in cycles, even the very concept of civilization is in cycles. In order to ascend everything, that means ascending not only all living things, but the entire physical universe itself! That's what the Great Problem really is :D (Also technicallyyy it's only ever referred to as "the big problem" and not "the great problem", the latter term stems entirely from the community but it's whatever i just wanted to quickly mention that. great problem definitely sounds cooler LOL)

In conclusion, Iterators are described as "Gifts to the World" not once, not twice, but three entire times throughout base game Rain World's dialogue, one from FP, one from LTTM, and one from the Benefactors. Rain World lore holds many unanswered, purposefully ambiguous questions, but the Iterator's purpose is not one of them!

If you're confused/interested in analysis of the Benefactor's motivations and perspectives on Ascension, I made a post a little while back containing my thoughts right here :)

#rw lore #rainworld #my lore #rain world lore #rain world #rwlore #rain world analysis #iterators rain world #rain world iterators #rw spoilers #rain world spoilers #rw iterator #yeah theres a lot of stuff in drafts #i was supposed to be using this time to study for my biology exam tomorrow guys #im so fucked

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queerbauten · 1 year ago

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[ID: a Variety headline reading, "'The L Word: Generation Q' Canceled by Showtime After Three Seasons". The accompanying image is a scene from the show, featuring some of the cast sitting around a coffee table. end ID.]

It’s because Jenny wasn’t in it

#if Jenny had haunted the narrative the show would’ve gotten six seasons. sad!#< prev tag #ugh. for real #I gave it a go and just. could not do it.#(the first episode alone was trying. way too hard. and yet not enough!)#you can't resolve a major character death (that you were apparently going to make a WHOLE SPINOFF SERIES ABOUT)#with a *single line of dialogue!!*#(also the way they FRIDGED KIT???)#(like I *get* that they couldn't get Pam Grier back for the series but THAT'S how you treat it?? BY KILLING HER???)#(and like yeah her death is a bit more relevant to the plot but somehow that's worse?? because—again—they FRIDGED her???)#(they *really* couldn't have given her a happy ending offscreen?)#(not even a handwritten slide saying 'Kit fell in love and moved to New Jersey' or something???)#ask me how I feel about #Kit Porter #and the way they treated her #hopefully with this series being cancelled and a new one coming up #we can treat this one as non-canon #because nothing about this is acceptable canon to me #oof sorry to ramble but there we go #Jenny Schecter #The L Word #The L Word: Generation Q #death tw #all caps tw #large text

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fastboatsmojito · 1 month ago

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Hi lovely!! Biggest congrats on 100 followers! Can I request ❛ when was the last time someone fucked you? ❜ and ❛ stop teasing and just put it in already. ❜ for Carmy?

( the whore in me wants to ask for roommate au but pls feel free to do whatever speaks to you)

YEAHHHHH

“When was the last time someone fucked you” + “stop teasing and just put it in already” from these smutty dialogue prompts for my 100 followers party!

| a/n; I can’t stop writing these softer than I mean to I’m sorry 😭

| cw; 18+ smut btc !! Roommate trope, he’s a little mean if u squint but not really, fingering, implied PnV, filthy fingers in ur mouth ?? lmao

| wc; 794

You kept telling yourself it was good that you were just roommates, there was zero chance you’d be able to deal with all the late nights and constant steady-stream-of-busyness that seemed to follow him around anyway.

And you’d be correct if it wasn’t also the hardest thing you’ve ever done, having to keep your thoughts to yourself whenever he’d walk around the apartment in those tight white t-shirts. Mentally cursing yourself for not looking away and cursing him all the same for being so clueless.

You ignored it for a while, biting back jokes about how he got so toned working in restaurants as he walked into the kitchen for a snack after a shower, towel sitting just above his v-line that you’d convince yourself wasn’t haunting you - following him with your eyes anyway.

You kept it all to yourself for both yours and Carmys sake, not wanting to ruin one of the steadiest relationships in his life, even if he did feel the same way.

Though it got increasingly harder when you couldn’t compensate with other people anymore - the dating scene in Chicago was rough and it showed, coming back home after your roommate for the first time since you could remember after a disappointing date.

He was on the couch when you walked in, sighing as you took off your shoes and smiling to yourself when you looked over to see him half asleep on the couch. Likely exhausted from work, waking himself up only when the remote fell out of his hands resting over the top of the couch.

He stretched his arms before looking at you, giving you one of those classic carmy sleepy smiles you could only describe as subconscious.

“Hey, how’d your date go?” He asked, sitting up and scooting over to give you room to sit down. You didn’t feel like getting into it really, especially not when he was so liable to coax a secret out of you.

“Shitty?” He answered for you when you didn’t respond, slumping down into the couch and nodding.

“Not great, yeah.”

“Sorry.” He hummed in understanding and said it sincerely, like he’d done something wrong, reaching a hand over to squeeze your shoulder. And maybe you were just sleepy too, just emotionally exhausted and clinging onto the warmth radiating from his palm but he didn’t move it away, letting his hand linger until you looked back over at him.

Speaking your name into the low-lit room, his voice blending into the usual Chicago winds outside the window, and surely he wasn’t actually looking at you like that. Like he was trying to figure out how to make it up to you, trying to solve all your problems in his own head.

He mumbled something to himself then, when you shifted in your seat and your dress rode up just above your mid thigh. You didn’t hear it really, but all the sleepiness on his face was suddenly gone.

“When’s the last time someone fucked you?” He said it so abrupt and casually you thought you made it up, taken aback as he just looked at you, hand unmoving on your shoulder.

“I don’t, uh-“ You shook your head, trying to wake yourself up for what was obviously a dream, taking a deep breath before answering him when he didn’t take your confusion as an opening to explain himself.

“It’s been awhile, I guess.” You shrugged, crossing your arms when he moved his hand from your shoulder.

“Mhm. That’s all you need, isn’t it? Staring at me all the time like you want something, so why don’t take it?” He was challenging you, tempting you to do the very thing you’d just gotten good at convincing yourself not to do.

Leaning back against the couch, his lap practically inviting you in as you waited for your brain to let your body do what it was screaming at you to do, and finally giving up when he patted his lap like he was giving you permission.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

He was even better than you’d imagined, leisurely working you open with his fingers just enough that you were ready for him and begging for more, retracting them only when your absentminded praises got less and less coherent.

“Carmy, stop teasing and put it in already.” You pleaded, nails digging into his back as he admired the string connecting his still-wet fingers.

“You telling me what to do now?” He scolded, and if you weren’t seconds away from getting what you’d waited so long for you might have built up the courage to be been a little meaner.

“Please.”

“Patience.” He corrected, leaning over you to guide his fingers into your mouth, warm lips meeting your head when you opened your mouth to accommodate them.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#can u tell I enjoy lap sitting #it’s in like half my blurbs at this point it’s getting ridiculous #not that I’m stopping but #🌑 100 party !!! 🎉#🌑 blurbs #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy x reader

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buckets-and-trees · 3 months ago

Text

All the Pieces Fall

Title: All the Pieces Fall Characters/Pairings: female!reader x BABE OF YOUR CHOICE Word Count: 3.1k Summary: After leaving the man you adored to chase your dreams, you're faced with the nightmare of bumping into him again when you least expect it.

Content/Warnings: exes to lovers; explicit smut: oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart); fluff

Author Note: A little something for @stargazingfangirl18 for her birthday/birthday bonenanza. I couldn't decide which babe to write for you for your birthday, so take a deep breath, close your eyes, make a wish while you blow out your birthday candles, and pick whoever you want! Exes to lovers, a few of your dialogue prompts (bolded/italicized), and a kink or two from your prompt list...

Additional Note: I'm also submitting this for the @bucks-and-noble Choose Your Babe challenge. I gave this babe blue eyes, but that's it.

You felt someone’s eyes on you before you turned around.

When you did turn only to discover they were his eyes, your stomach dropped while your heart shot into your throat.

Him.

Why did it have to be him?

He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his face.

All flights were grounded with the torrential rains, so there were hundreds of passengers stranded just like you, but of all the days and all the destinations, to be stranded during a layover in Dallas with your ex was the last thing you wanted.

As you walked away from the booking counter and the tall, handsome man who occasionally still haunted your dreams approached you, you reminded your body that you did not crave his touch anymore. You were well past that.

Your heart did not stutter when he uttered your name in greeting.

(It did.)

But you managed to give him a convincingly strong hello in return, and his smile grew and warmed.

“Your flight delayed until tomorrow now, too?” he asked.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“Do you have a place to stay yet?”

“No.” You frowned. It had been in the back of your mind, but the first concern had been getting confirmation on when you could fly out.

“I own a hotel nearby. Let me put you up for the night – I won’t take no for an answer.”

There was a tiny part of you that wanted to say no, aware of the slippery slope of entering his orbit again. But after hours of being delayed already, you were tired. Not having to worry about something you were sure was going to be a nightmare to arrange with so many other passengers stranded was an offer you didn’t want to refuse.

“Thank you, that’s an incredibly generous offer.”

He shook his head with a slight chuckle. “It’s really not. It’s entirely selfish.”

He took a half step closer to you.

The proximity forced you to have to raise your chin to look into his eyes.

“I knew I couldn’t chase after you when you left, but I was sure one day our paths would cross again. Now I have one night either to get closure or to convince you to come back to me.”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

He traced the line of your jaw with his finger, then nudged your chin, closing your mouth.

“Let’s go,” he said.

With a single nod, he turned, another man approached and took your bag for you, and you hurried along to fall into step with him.

You knew your ex had done well in the years you had been apart. It had been hard to ignore him in the news as his company grew and expanded, brought other companies under its umbrella, built a new headquarters in another city on the other side of the country, and on and on.

He only touched you to put his hand at the small of your back when he opened the door of a sleek, black SUV, waiting at the curb outside the terminal of the airport. He walked around the back and sat on the other side.

He engaged you effortlessly in small talk from the airport to the hotel.

He swept you away to have dinner with him the moment the two of you arrived.

He easily convinced you to stay for dessert after the exquisite dinner the two of your shared.

The evening was too easy, the conversation too effortless.

At least on the surface.

You enjoyed every moment, and yet you itched for him to touch you, to look at you in the piercing way he used to, to ask for an explanation as to why you’d cut and run.

But he didn’t.

And he had been content to keep talking until you finally had to try and stifle a yawn. Only then did he suggest it was time to retire.

As the two of you left the restaurant, a concierge approached and handed two small keycard envelopes to him. He nodded and thanked his staff and led you to the bank of elevators.

He looked in each envelope, then handed one to you. There was a soothing ding, and one of the elevators opened for the two of you.

He pressed two buttons – one for your floor, and one for the top floor.

The two of you rode up in silence. You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve.

When the lift stopped at your floor – only two below his – you started to step out, saying, “Well-”

But he cut you off, grabbing your wrist, and putting his other hand out to hold the elevator doors open. “Stay with me tonight.”

You looked at where he held your wrist in time to see as his hand slid down to hold your hand instead. Then he lifted your hand to his lips. Tentatively, eyes locked on yours, he kissed it softly. The friendliness that had shone through his face all evening was gone, replaced with an intense hunger.

You stepped back into the elevator, closer to him than before.

The elevator doors slid closed behind you.

You took a deep, steadying breath, then said. “I’m sure you could talk me into saying ‘yes’ to whatever you want.”

His eyes darkened, and he licked his lips.

Moments later when the lift opened to the top floor, he led you by the hand quickly and quietly down the hallway to the penthouse suite.

The moment you were inside, he closed the door, and pressed you up against it, crashing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

You responded instantly, muscle memory taking over as your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. His lips were just as you remembered - warm, demanding, intoxicating. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, and he pressed closer, one hand cupping your face while the other gripped your waist. A soft moan escaped you as his tongue swept across your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You granted it willingly, melting into him as the kiss deepened.

Suddenly, reality came crashing back. You broke away, putting a hand on his chest, breathless, your head spinning. "Wait," you gasped. "We shouldn't..."

He rested his forehead against yours, both of you panting. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You bit your lip, looking straight into his eyes again. You could feel the ache for him in your bones as much as you could feel your heaving chests pressed against each other in that moment.

“But why?” you had to ask, even though you could only manage a whisper.

He took a step back, his hands sliding down to gently grasp yours. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, his voice soft but filled with emotion.

"Why? Because from the moment I first saw you, you've been etched into my soul. Every day we spent together only confirmed it. When you left, it felt like you took a piece of me with you. I tried to fill that void with work, with success, but nothing could replace you.

“After a while, it hurt less, but I could still feel the lack. I've replayed every moment we shared, wondering what I could have done differently. I've imagined a thousand scenarios where you stayed, where we built a life together.”

You had replayed and imagined different scenarios, too. No one had ever matched him and the place he had inhabited in your heart.

“But I don’t think a life together is lost for us either,” he said, bringing his hand back to cup your cheek.

“But don’t you want to know why I left?”

“I know why you left.”

You frowned. “Then why didn’t you come after me?”

“Because I know why you left. You wanted more and you were worried if you stayed you wouldn’t find it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, because it was true. He was growing and changing, moving forward. Your friends at the time had been getting married and having babies. You wanted that, too, but at the time you felt like everyone was leaving you behind. And so you’d left instead of being left behind.

“I’ve followed you following your dreams. If I get one night with you now and still have to wait for forever later, I’ll do it. You’re the only one I want.”

“Even after all this time?”

“Has there been anyone else for you?”

“No,” you confessed.

“There couldn’t be for me, either,” he said fervently.

You surged forward and kissed him. “I want more than only one night,” you rushed between eager kisses.

He smiled against your lips, his hands sliding down to your hips. "All my nights belong to you," he murmured, pulling you closer.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as he trailed kisses along your jaw. The familiar yet electrifying sensation of his lips on your skin sent shivers down your spine. You gasped as he found the sensitive spot just below your ear, the one he always knew drove you wild.

"I've missed you," he breathed, his voice husky with desire. "Every inch of you."

You managed to push his shirt off his shoulders, running your hands over his toned chest. He was still as fit as you remembered, perhaps even more so. Your touch seemed to ignite something within him, and suddenly you were being lifted, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

He carried you to the bedroom, laying you gently on the plush king-sized bed. The city lights twinkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow across the room. He hovered above you, his eyes roaming your face as if committing every detail to memory.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be ruined for anyone or anything else.”

In response, you pulled him down for another passionate kiss. Your hands explored the planes of his back as he settled between your legs, the weight of him both familiar and thrilling. He broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, his fingers working deftly to unbutton your blouse, his lips lavishing heated attention to each inch of skin as it was revealed. He was committed to relearning your body with reverent touches and tender kisses, but you could feel the frenzy building. You arched into him, desperate for more contact, more friction, impatient and needing him. Both of you broke apart to finish tearing off your remaining clothes, and then your came back together. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer as he began to worship your body. His lips never left your skin, whispering words of adoration between heated kisses. Your fingers dug into his back, urging him closer, desperate to erase any remaining distance between you.

Finally, his lips found the soaked slit of you, and you keened and arched beneath him. He chuckled and put an arm firmly over your hips to keep you pinned for him.

His tongue teased along your folds, building the ache within you to a fever pitch. You writhed against his hold, desperate for more. When he finally slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you cried out in ecstasy. He worked you expertly, his mouth and fingers in perfect synchronization, quickly pushing you to the edge.

"Let go for me, sweetheart," he murmured against your skin. "I want to taste you."

His words, combined with a particularly skillful flick of his tongue, sent you careening over the edge. You came with a cry of his name, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. He didn't let up, working you through your orgasm until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

As you came down from your high, he kissed his way back up your body, settling between your thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and you ached to have him inside you. Your hands roamed his back, pulling him closer as you nipped at his earlobe.

"Please," you whispered, your voice husky with need. "I want you."

He groaned, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he slowly pushed into you. You both gasped at the sensation, the familiar yet electrifying feeling of being joined again after so long apart. He stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you savoring the connection.

"You feel like home," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours.

Slowly, he began to move, setting a languid pace that had you arching beneath him, desperate for more. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper with each thrust. The room filled with the sounds of your mingled gasps and moans.

His pace quickened, driven by your encouraging moans and the way your nails raked down his back. You met him thrust for thrust, your bodies finding that perfect rhythm you'd always shared. His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he drove you closer to the edge. The tension built between you, a coiling spring of pleasure winding tighter and tighter.

"God, I've missed this," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Missed you. So much."

You could only whimper in response, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, sparks of pleasure shooting through you with each movement. You were close, so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

He seemed to sense it, one hand sliding between your bodies to find that sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers worked in tight circles, perfectly in sync with his thrusts, until you cried out in ecstasy beneath him, body contracting with your climax. He pulled out and flipped you over onto your stomach.

You gasped as he entered you again from behind in one smooth thrust, his chest pressed against your back. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he set a frantic pace. The new angle had you seeing stars, each thrust hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

"You're mine," he growled in your ear, his voice rough with passion. "Say it."

"Yours," you moaned, pliant and helpless beneath him. "I'm yours."

His left hand found your left hand, and his fingers tangled with yours into the sheets he drove into you relentlessly. You could feel another orgasm building, your oversensitive body trembling with each powerful thrust. This angle, how deep he could hit inside of you, was always your undoing. His breath was hot against your neck as he peppered kisses along your shoulder.

"Come for me again, sweetheart," he demanded, his right hand sliding down to where you were joined. "One more time."

It was all you needed to fall over one final ledge. His thrusts became erratic as your walls squeezed around his throbbing cock, and then he shouted as he released deep inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, and you welcomed the heavy weight of him. You reached back and threaded your fingers through his hair, humming in contentment, his half-hard cock still inside you.

Finally, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound in the room was your gradually slowing breaths and the distant hum of the city outside. You traced lazy patterns on his chest, relishing the familiar warmth of his skin.

"I can't believe this is real," you murmured, still feeling dazed from the intensity of your reunion.

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I've dreamed of this moment for so long," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You propped yourself up on an elbow, looking into his eyes. The vulnerability you saw there made your heart ache. "I'm sorry I left," you whispered, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "I was scared and foolish."

He caught your hand and pressed a kiss into your palm. “You might have been scared, but you weren’t foolish. It hurt like hell to let you go, and the only thing that kept me sane was the belief that it wouldn’t hurt so much if I didn’t love you more than anything else in this world.”

Your breath caught in your chest.

“I never stopped loving you. I didn’t get to ask you then, so I’m asking you now: marry me.”

You laughed nervously. “That’s not a question.”

“So?”

“We live on different sides of the country!”

“Are you making excuses because you’re nervous or because you want to say no?”

You bit your lip.

This seemed impossible, and yet how easy had it been to slip into simply being with him again? From the hours of easy conversation earlier in the evening to the intensity of both the physical and emotional intimacy between you, nothing had been forced, it only felt like using muscles that hadn’t been tested in a while but were still there.

“I was actually heading back home for a final interview.”

“Home as in…?”

“As in our home. I didn’t know if I’d take the job, I was worried about seeing you again.”

“And now?”

“Now when they ask me if I’m serious about considering a relocation across the country, I can say I’m highly motivated so I can be in the same city as my fiancé.”

His eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and disbelief. "Is that a yes?”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you."

He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless and grinning.

"I can't believe this is happening," you murmured, tracing the lines of his face with your fingertips.

He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your ring finger. "Believe it. I'm never letting you go again."

You snuggled closer to him, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. "So, what now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly. "Sleep. Then breakfast and more sex, probably not in that order. Catch our flight, then ring shopping before dinner. Figure out the rest after that?”

You nodded. “Together,” you said.

“Together,” he echoed before kissing you again.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

This is maybe the fluffiest smut I've written in a while, and it was absolutely not what I was planning on when I woke up today, so... make of that what you will. I'm really nervous to post it, and when I never designated a specific babe I really don't know how this got up over 3k, but HERE WE ARE!

#happy birthday siri 2024 #bnchooseyourbabe #chris evans characters #sebastian stan characters #henry cavill characters #aspen wrote something #choose your babe #female reader

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