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#i know they wrote the dark world
icedb1ackcoffee · 10 days
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Corrupted by Design | Feyd-Rautha x Reader
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After generations of pillaging and destroying their ecosystem, you are assigned by the Emperor to work on with the Harkonnens to improve their planet’s agriculture as Imperial Ecologist. However, Giedi Prime is far from welcoming, and you must fight to survive the horrors you endure at the hands of the Harkonnens. When you catch the eye of the Baron’s youngest nephew, and most prized possession, you step into a world complicated by politics and revenge.
Tags: Unbeta'd, AFAB Reader, multiple OCs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, enemy to friends to lovers/enemy lovers, slow burn, fake science, blood, violence, gore, body horror, cannibalism, uncle/nephew incest (implied), eventual smut, etc.
A/N: I’ve never read the books, so this is a combination of the Villeneuve films, the Dune Wiki, and a heavy dose of just making shit up lol. I try my best to make Reader as nondescript as possible, but there are mentions of having periods and body hair in later chapters. As a warning up front, this will not have a Happily Ever After ending, but maybe more like Happy For Now?
Please mind the tags; this is very dark, but that comes with the territory.
Chapter One: Like Meat (Spoiled)
When you first arrived at Giedi Prime, nothing could have adequately prepared you for the shock the harsh environment brought. 
Approaching the planet, dark, heavy clouds of pollution choked its atmosphere, seen even from your descent into the atmosphere. Any hope you’d had on your mission here began to wither as you saw the goliath manufacturing plants and landfills that scarred the horizon on all sides. Even the advanced Sardakaur technology on this ship couldn’t soften the harsh winds. Could this be the reason why they accepted you— a last-ditch effort to salvage whatever was left of this godforsaken planet…?
When you landed, you rose unsteadily to your feet and grabbed your luggage. Two large bags and one satchel tied at your waist. The rest unloaded off the ship, full of your tools and plants. Your entire life packed away, always ready for the next move. An escort accompanied you off ship, the rest staying inside. Not that you would blame them; if it was not required of you, you would not leave, either.
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chdarling-tle · 2 months
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James ran. He ran faster than he’d ever run in his whole life. He hurtled out the door of the apothecary, slamming it shut with his wand as he went, lest the others try to follow him into the fray. He weaved and dodged through spell and smoke, flinging up a shield charm just as a masked man raised his wand — the curse hit the invisible barrier in a cascade of sparks. James paid it no mind. Kept going. Distantly, he was aware of someone shouting at him through all the chaos, recognized adult figures that weren’t masked or dressed in black — he ignored them all. Only one thought filled his brain, drowning out everything else amidst this swirling hurricane — only one word, one idea, one purpose commanded his mind’s eye: Lily.
He was nearly to the bookshop, just a few more paces. The fire was growing — roaring, spitting, spreading; it circled the shop like a snake about to squeeze its prey. If he didn’t make it through, the shop would be cut off — and Lily trapped inside.
A burst of heat blossomed behind him; he pushed harder, ran faster.
Skid of heel against cobblestone; air hot with smoke and ash. He slipped through the circle of fire just as it closed upon itself, a flaming ouroboros. James paused for half a second to catch his breath, sweat pearling on his brow in the heat of the blaze. Then the fiery snake flicked its tail, and a wall of flame crashed into the shop.
Read on AO3.
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rhymaes · 4 months
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Mysterious Lotus Casebook // Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red
(continuation of x)
#and YES I USED THE SAME PIC TO BEGIN HIS. BECAUSE WHERE HIS STORY BEGINS#IS WHERE LI LIANHUA’S ENDS AND GOD. HE THOUGHT THEY HAD FOREVER#fang duobing’s turn because time is rushing toward them!!! and he believed they had it and then didn’t and then did again#and then it’s—all gone. like a light snuffed out. there is always a dark darker than the dark you know#and what li lianhua believed he was freeing fang duobing from is what he will spend the rest of his life mourning#& it’s. you have enough time. and then you don’t. and then you do because he told you so and you wanted to believe him even after everything#so you did. and oh. it was so much worse to think you could have it. that you had it together. and then finding he knew it was never a#possibility to begin with because he exchanged his death for your life but he doesn’t understand he wrote the eulogy you will roam the wide#world with for the rest of your life without him#just. holy shit. it’s a cruelty that li lianhua truly does not believe is cruel. he believes it’s a blessing. and it’s the worst thing#fang duobing has ever experienced—not his father not his illness nor his run away marriage or obligation as a young master he hates—its this#ANYWAY. yeah. yeah. finished the book today so natural I had to take the last quote completely out of context for my own selfish reading for#them bc what can I say I’m a selfish reader in any regard#mysterious lotus casebook#fang duobing#li lianhua#li xiangyi#di feisheng
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wereh0gz · 9 months
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Me posting abt wanting a sonic lore book from sega made me want to write a lore doc for my ocs
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tbos-main · 2 years
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the amagi gang. the artist, the engineer, the magnate, the blood of the old flame, the future king. they are the next generation of nobility in burnos, powerful and rich and young and clever, and yet it is not this they are named for, but their love, their hope. the free age. five childhood friends sprinting down ancient corridors, slipping goblets of wine into blindly reaching hands when the grand lords and ladies aren't watching, giggling behind curtains, hiding in the passageways. they are supposed to be free. they are supposed to survive. a betrayal. two bodies. a girl with ink on her chin left abandoned in the moonlight, and in the palace there is a prince, a brother, a friend, now none of those things, now no more than a man standing alone in a kingdom that doesn't fit like it used to.
#idk what this is i am simply thinking about Them#no i will not elaborate on what happens to who#just know the 'amagi gang' as they've come to be named#are darya + nebetta + akila + drako + rin#they're all childhood friends and they got up to mischief together and there's so much love there#and it was naive and privileged and rich but still they were untouchable once#and now it's all falling apart#they dont get to all make it#and the ones that do dont even recognise the world around them anymore#like. god the thing about tbos is that i go on and on about the romance and drama and politics of it all#and like i LOVE all that hence why i wrote it like i want drakonate to have the kind of mindblowing romance that makes you scream#but tbos is also a story of family and friendship. like there wouldn't even be a PLOT without that angle#and there's something so simple yet so devastating about having a group of people#whether it be the found family of the brotherhood or the biological family of the harasaeons or the childhood friendship of the amagi gang#and seeing them suffer and fall apart and knowing there's *nothing* that any of them can do to stop it#yet watching them fight it so hard anyway#like 'she's been dead from the beginning' except it's the inevitable doom of several groups of people in one way or another#like the amagi gang so easily could of had their dark academia rich kids story where they just have fun and have philosophical debates#and drink red wine and trade books and like. maybe commit a murder or something idk what the dark academics are doing these days#because that is the life they were SUPPOSED to have (minus the murder possibly) they were all supposed to grow old together#each of them coming more and more into power until they each had a huge hold on their respective part of burnos#i mean akila's en route to inherit the family business and become the richest woman in burnos REGARDLESS of if she marries a royal#darya and nebetta will take on the green castle and in turn the entire fucking east and they're already a power couple#of a union between two high houses so nebetta's connections to the abalaois would just increase that#and obviously drako and rin are HARASAEONS#like it would have been so fun to explore all of them just following their paths and running a kingdom together#and all the while being the bestest of friends. and instead we got war#we got war we got blood and pain and suffering and awful awful war and it kills all of them#one way or another maybe literally maybe not but it gets them all in the end#UGHSJKDGKGH ive got to stop writing i make myself sick
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sluttyten · 1 year
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me @ me: just finish writing the Monsterfucking fic that is almost three weeks late now!!
also me: let’s just draw this out and add one more smut scene to this before I move on
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man-bat · 2 years
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tiny bruce being a dnd nerd but never having the friends to actually play it & then later in life when he acquires a party of children he finally gets to live his nerdy dreams……………..
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abnerkrill · 2 years
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hello i have created something horrible. i call it...... sarubezos the very white
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minijenn · 1 year
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So as part of my epic Zelda marathon leading up to Tears of the Kingdom, I’m playing Wind Waker and golly if it doesn’t have my wanting to revisit/rewrite my one Wind Waker fic I wrote ages ago imo
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odrseasonone · 1 year
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Mages & Magics
magic – lifeforce/souls/energy/whatever
questions: how prolific is it?  who can wield it?  how is it generally regarded?  is it generally known about?
amulets/talismans – we already have some of these: power sources.  dezod’s house and rob and cassius’ dragons are all examples of this.  really, so are all living things, in a sense.  in any case, withdrawing power/lifeforce/energy/whatever from one being and putting into into something else creates an object (or being in the case of rochilda/safira at the end of the conflagration and rowena’s dragons) of power.  good mages could also make these by placing a part of themselves in them, but they’re probs primarily crafted by dark mages for obv reasons.
questions: can non-sorcerers wield such objects? how many of these are known out in the world? if multiples, can we form a plotline out of this – the resistance seeking these objects of power in order to fight back?
alternate species – only non-humanoid examples.  dragons certainly exist and, for example, gryffins and phoenixes may also, as they are the emblems of great houses, etc
questions: what alternate species are real?  where do they exist?  are they extinct/underground/extant?  
mages – some are born with it, such as ric, dezod, and avina, but most people are not (exception: have it thrust upon them aka helena).  the only learnable form of magic is dark magic.
questions: what makes it dark? (presumably a taboo against disturbing the gods’ chosen order?) what, precisely, besides healing and gaining more power, can be achieved by the use of magic? are herbs and potions used or is it simply an act of the will? are there words of power?  staffs (i absolutely object to wands)? any sort of totems?  what is known, generally, about magic and its wielders?
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thecursedhellblazer · 2 years
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It was that time of year again. The day that John didn't want mentioned and Oliver respected that in his way. He wouldn't wish John a happy birthday, but the archer tried a bit harder these days to keep the man occupied. Oliver cupped the sorcerer's cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, his fingers moving through the blonde's hair and locking his fingers into it.
(Happy birthday John~)
John Constantine didn’t allow himself to linger on the thought of what he would have asked for, had he been given the chance to see one or more of his wishes turned into a reality. And for several reasons.
First and foremost, he knew better than to trust that kind of bullshit. Genies and creatures who promised to grant you your heart’s desires were usually vicious, cheating assholes and the rule was that they always find a way to fulfil their victim’s wishes so that they would come back and bite them in the ass in the worst ways possible.
So, as a rule, he only wished on shooting stars, strictly on the mortal plane and strictly in areas where he was sure no magic lurked. Why? Because he knew that doing so led to nothing and that it was all just a sentimental gesture. At best, a way to rekindle hope.
Secondly, even if he had decided to throw caution to the wind and try it, he wouldn’t have knows what to ask for. Not because he lacked wishes, but because there were far too many things that he wanted to see happened, erased, changed. His mother, Astra, Cheryl’s fate, his many lost friends. Ever being born. His nightmarish childhood. The fact that he was damned to Hell. The blood on his hands, the rot in his soul, the endless list of regrets.
How could he have ever picked even just a couple of things? Perhaps asking to have never been born might have solved most of it, but what of the people and the worlds he had actually managed to help saving? So, tough luck even in that case.
However, if anyone had asked him on that particular day, he would have probably said that he wanted the 10th of May wiped off from every existing calendar and the likes. At least, that way, he wouldn’t have been forced to bother to ignore the anniversary.
When the clock had hit midnight he had portaled himself back to the UK, to spend the first hours of the morning and watch dawn rising while sitting next to Mary Anne’s grave, with nothing but a good stash of liquor and a painful, sour mood as a company.
By the time the sun had come up he had been completely drunk off his ass and he had to have blacked out at some point because he had woken up in some dirty alley in living room, covered in what he had hoped was dried mud.
After that, he had stumbled his way back to Star City, because he had promised Oliver that he would have showed up at his place and he didn’t want the vigilante to enroll Chas so that they could chase him down. Normally, he might have even found it funny, but not that day. Not with that bad hangover, not when he was struggling to breathe while overwhelmed by nausea, guilt and self-loathing.
To the archer’s credit, John had to admit that his lover had really tried hard to keep him occupied without allowing him to go on a full destructive spree as per his usual.
His glass had never been empty, but never enough for him to accidentally choke on one too many mouthful of liquor. He had been forced to feed himself, but only with the kind of junk food one tended to crave while wasted. He had been confined in a close space, part of the Arrow’s hideout, but with plenty of shit he could break, had he desired to. Hell, they had even put on the music he liked, at full volume.
And Oliver had been there all the time, watching him like a hawk, but keeping his distances and not engaging him for longer than he could bear.
It had been all so thoughtful that the magician hadn’t found the heart to lash out at the other man. Damn him.
So when the vigilante had walked towards where he was currently slouched in a corner, on his way to doze off yet again, and had grabbed him by the face to draw him into a kiss, John hadn’t resisted. He had let himself being kissed, just as he had sort of allowed himself to be taken care of, enjoying the soft but firm touch in his hair.
Life still sucked badly, but even a stubborn man like John Constantine couldn’t deny that, at times, sparks of light could find their way to you even in the darker moments.
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The thing with the Mari Lwyd, though, is that it's being... I don't know, 'appropriated' is the wrong word, but certainly turned into something it isn't.
Thing is, this is a folk tradition in the Welsh language, and that's the most important aspect of it. I feel partly responsible for this, because I accidentally became a bit of an expert on the topic of the Mari Lwyd in a post that escaped Tumblr containment, and I clearly didn't stress it strongly enough there (in my defence, I wrote that post for ten likes and some attention); but this is a Welsh language tradition, conducted in Welsh, using Welsh language poetic forms that are older than the entire English language, and also a very specific sung melody (with a very specific first verse; that's Cân y Fari). It is not actually a 'rap battle'. It's not a recited poem. It is not any old rhyme scheme however you want.
It is not in English.
Given the extensive and frankly ongoing attempts by England to wipe out Welsh, and its attendant cultural traditions, the Mari is being revived across Wales as an act of linguistic-cultural defiance. She's a symbol of Welsh language culture, specifically; an icon to remind that we are a distinct people, with our own culture and traditions, and in spite of everyone and everything, we're still here. Separating her from that by removing the Welsh is, to put it mildly, wildly disrespectful.
...but it IS what I'm increasingly seeing, both online and in real world Mari Lwyd festivals. She's gained enormous pop-culture popularity in recent years, which is fantastic; but she's also been reduced from the tradition to just an aesthetic now.
So many people are talking/drawing about her as though she's a cryptid or a mythological figure, rather than the folk practice of shoving a skull on a stick and pretending to be a naughty horse for cheese and drunken larks. And I get it! It's an intriguing visual! Some of the artwork is great! But this is not what she is. She's not a Krampus equivalent for your Dark Christmas aesthetic.
I see people writing their own version of the pwnco (though never called the pwnco; almost always called some variant on 'Mari Lwyd rap battle'), and as fun as these are, they are never even written in the meter and poetic rules of Cân y Fari, much less in Welsh, and they never conclude with the promise to behave before letting the Mari into the house. The pwnco is the central part to the tradition; this is the Welsh language part, the bit that's important and matters.
Mari Lwyd festivals are increasingly just English wassail festivals with a Mari or two present. The Swansea one last weekend didn't even include a Mari trying to break into a building (insert Shrek meme); there was no pwnco at all. Even in the Chepstow ones, they didn't do actual Cân y Fari; just a couple of recited verses. Instead, the Maris are just an aesthetic, a way to make it look a bit more Welsh, without having to commit to the unfashionable inconvenience of actually including Welsh.
And I don't really know what the answers are to these. I can tell you what I'd like - I'd like art to include the Welsh somewhere, maybe incorporating the first line of Cân y Fari like this one did, to keep it connected to the actual Welsh tradition (or other Welsh, if other phrases are preferred). I'd like people who want to write their version of the pwnco to respect the actual tradition of it by using Cân y Fari's meter and rhyme scheme, finishing with the promise to behave, and actually calling it the pwnco rather than a rap battle (and preferably in Welsh, though I do understand that's not always possible lol). I'd like to see the festivals actually observe the tradition, and include a link on the booking website to an audio clip of Cân y Fari and the words to the first verse, so attendees who want to can learn it ahead of time. I don't know how feasible any of that is, of course! But that's what I'd like to see.
I don't know. This is rambly. But it's something I've been thinking about - and increasingly nettled by - for a while. There's was something so affirming and wonderful at first about seeing the Mari's climb into international recognition, but it's very much turned to dismay by now, because she's important to my endangered culture and yet that's the part that everyone apparently wants to drop for being too awkward and ruining the aesthetic. It's very frustrating.
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inkskinned · 1 year
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"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"
my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?
for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.
some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.
some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.
i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.
you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.
i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.
i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!
just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.
because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!
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hacked-wtsdz · 4 months
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Every time I read or watch Lord of the Rings I can’t help but think about how Tolkien had survived one of the bloodiest, most cruel, most dirtiest and darkest wars in human history, came back and wrote this:
“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
And this:
"'I wish it need not have happened in my time,' said Frodo.
'So do I,' said Gandalf, 'and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'"
And this:
"I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend."
And this:
“Many that live deserve death and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be so eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the wise cannot see all ends."
And this:
“True courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one.”
And clearly they were all written partly because he survived the war, because of what he’d seen and done and learned. But at the same time the unwillingness to lose faith, the courage and strength that this man had to believe in these things after going through hell! It makes the nihilists look so cheap, so uninteresting! People who’ve went through concentration camps and wars believe in humanity anyway, isn’t that proof that hope and love exist? And many, many, many of them did not return or returned broken and cruel and traumatised to the point when no faith in others was possible for them, and nobody can blame them. But there were many who refused to lose faith and hope. They have seen some of the worst that life has to offer and came back believing that we shouldn’t be eager to deal out death in judgement and should love only that which the sword defends.
No matter how many people say that humanity is horrible and undeserving of love, and life is dark and worthless, and love doesn’t exist I remember this and have hope anyway. Because there were people who have actually had all reason to believe in the worst and still believed in the good, so the good must be real. The good is real, even despite the evil, and we must trust in it.
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ohimsummer · 3 months
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✎ . . .❝GOOD GRIEF, SUGURU!❞
— minors dni, period cramps, poly!satosugu rs, established relationship, jokes about period sex (from Suguru lmao), suggestive comments, i wrote this when my uterus was uppercutting my ass
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You read recently that a broken femur and childbirth are two of the most painful things a human could experience. The way these cramps feel at the moment, you’re willing to fight someone on that.
“No more of these.”
Gojo snorts. It’s like Geto just revealed the worst news in the world, when in reality he’s just concerned for your health.
Your head jerks to look at him, blinking rounded, puppy dog eyes and hand still reaching for the bottle of pain meds. “Satoru, make him!”
He glances back at Geto, who’s tucking the small pill bottle into his pocket and giving Gojo a sinister side-eye that he doesn’t like being on the receiving end of. “ ‘Fraid I can’t help ya this time, baby, Suguru’s word is law.”
“A lie!,” you whine and try to stuff your hands in Suguru’s pockets. “Suguruu!”
“Darling, you’ve taken enough of these already.,” Geto tries to console you, fingers combing your hair as you bury your face in his neck. “It’s not safe to take anymore within 12 hours. You’ll have to hold off for a bit, my love.”
Your pitiful whine breaks both their hearts, and Satoru reaches for another one of the dark chocolate bars he'd bought for you earlier. “Here, open wide. These should help ease your pain, yeah?”
You sniffle, groaning. “You eat it, 's not workin' for me.”
A beat passes before Satoru replaces the candy bar on his nightstand. “I’ll start running you a warm bath, then. That sound good?”
“. .Okay.” It comes out a feeble whisper, and you shiver in Suguru’s arms. “My nipples hurt.”
Satoru is thankfully out of earshot for that comment, but Geto hears you loud and clear, thumbs massaging the backs of your sore thighs. “I’ll suck on them later.”
“No.,” you mumble into his neck. “You’re gonna try and fuck me after.”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, a soothing vibration. “Maybe.”
“Gross.”
Geto's shoulders tremble as he tries to hold in his laughter. "Ya know orgasms help reduce cramping, too?"
“You would know something like that, weirdo." Your head turns and you catch a peek at the upturn of his lips. "Besides, I don't want blood all over us.”
“Surely it's nothing I can’t lick up?”
“Good grief, Suguru!,” you push yourself up and away from him, scowling at his laughter and the smirk on his face. “You’re disgusting!”
Satoru calls from the bathroom. “Is he talking about period sex again?”
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man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am
so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!
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[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]
They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.
But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)
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[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]
Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.
The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.
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[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]
Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.
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[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]
And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.
Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.
Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.
And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!
And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.
And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.
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[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]
There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures
1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.
2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps
3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.
But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!
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[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]
Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.
We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)
and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it
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