#as mild mistakes

[shamelessshepherd]

The Muslims are being homophobic on my dash again and they’re attacking lesbian and bi Muslims 😑

[lildoodlenoodle]

Thinking about the way noir and Hobie were most likely treated because of how they look and being severely underestimated because of it.

Hobie looks and acts like a punk. He is just unserious enough to not be taken seriously. The dude is smart enough to recreate a dimension jumping watch from scraps, that people WATCH him steal and go “ugh sorry about that, he’s always like that”. And they treat him like an instigative child. Meanwhile this man is staging an interdimensional coup and is essentially a rebel freedom fighter in his own world. He is incredibly strategic and a genius while also being kind and sticking to his guns. And as a reminder, without knowing Miles or how his powers worked for even two minutes he was able to accurately help him improve his abilities! Man is observant and a quick thinker! But he’s quiet about it!

Noir dresses and sounds like an ‘oldtimer’ bc he’s from the 1930s. People probably went “ah yes grandpa” with the assumption of a mild mannered, old, and jaded private eye. Probably thought of as behind the times and not as intelligent because of lack of experience with technology. But overall first impression was of a sensible hardworking guy, and at worst melodramatic. In reality, dude is more than mildly neurotic, has severe anger issues, and prone to getting into fights. A raised socialist activist, who has very little to lose, and has canonically burned down the Statue of Liberty, shockingly he is a bit of a wildcard. And more than likely got kicked off/quit the ‘elite strike force’ for those reasons. But he’s also resourceful, smart, and quick to adapt.

Both of these characters are going to be a force to be reckoned with when they get together. Very much house on fire that burns down the entire neighborhood type relationship. I’m very excited.

[lgbtlunaverse]

While rereading mdzs I am once again shocked by how talked about the "you were the only mistake he ever made" line from Lan Xichen to Wei Wuxian is and how heated it gets some people because honestly... I don't think he actually even believes that.

Stay with me. Look at the actual line. (I Included 2 translations for comparison's sake)

Firstly, yes he is mad at Wei Wuxian in this scene. But his biggest moment of anger was actually before this. By this point he's realized that Wei Wuxian forgot what happened after nightless city (and therefore ISN'T stringing along his baby brother on purpose) so he has in fact calmed down a bit.

Secondly, notice that he starts by talking about how his uncle felt. This is not Lan Xichen making a value statement about what he thinks. When he says Lan Wangji was proper and righteous he is talking about him being a model lan, he's talking about their family and clan's perspective of Wangji. Indeed, in their eyes, Wei Wuxian is the only time Lan Wangji was ever not the textbook perfect Lan.

Thirdly, what is Lan Xichen trying to say here? What is he mad at Wei Wuxian for? It's that he doesn't know Lan Wangji is in love with him. His anger is eased by realizing Wei Wuxian doesn't remember the very blatant confessions lwj made in the cave after nightless city, or Lan Wangji fighting his own clan elders for Wei Wuxian, and so had no way of knowing the whipmarks on Lan Wangji's back were related to him. But he is still mad, he still thinks Wei Wuxian should have been able to figure it out. So what does he highlight?

The fact that the only thing Lan Wangji, perfect model-Lan righteous Lan Wangji, ever defies his clan for is Wei Wuxian.

And Wei Wuxian has seen him do this! Even if he doesn't remember this one instance. Because Lan Wangji has been doing that the whole story through. Wei Wuxian has watched Lan Wangji blatantly stand against the entire cultivation world for him, and here Lan Xichen is highlighting just how unusual that is, how much Wei Wuxian must mean to Lan Wangji that he's willing to do that. The important part of the sentence here is not "mistake" it's "only."

Lan Xichen here isn't trying to say that he disapproves of Wei Wuxian, or telling him to stay away from his brother. Remember, the thing that made him mad in the first place was Wei Wuxian saying that he and Lan Wangji slept in seperate rooms. He thought they were together! He's mad because they're not!

At no point does Lan Xichen say he individually considers Lan Wangji's feelings for Wei Wuxian a mistake. If he ever did, it's clear he accepted them regardless long ago. Mistake or not, what he wants is for his little brother to be happy.

[canisalbus]

What?? Why on Earth would they bloodlet Machete when he's already anemic?

Anemia wasn't discovered until 1852, so his physicians have no idea. He's just moody and achy and visibly unwell and bloodletting happens to be the cure-for-all fix at the time.

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say it was one of the most used treatments in western medicine from ancient Greece to 19th century (and even earlier than that in Egypt, for example). There weren't many ailments that a little bit of breathing a vein wouldn't alleviate, supposedly. This whole concept is based on humoral theory which is a fascinating cornerstone of medical history and also completely unfounded nonsense, look it up if you haven't, it's interesting. People believed that blood didn't circulate through the body, it was created, used up and then the bad blood would stagnate in the extremities. Having too much blood would disturb your humoral balance and create illnesses so removing it was beneficial to your wellbeing. Even completely healthy people would sometimes go get themselves bled a bit just to be sure.

You kind of need blood for your body to function so this treatment was completely pointless at best and life threatening at worst. If you were sick to begin with it would only weaken you further (and expose you to potential infections, which in the absence of antibiotics, wasn't great). The only viable use for it would have to be rare blood disorders where your body produces too many red blood cells, like polycythemia vera, essentially the polar opposite of anemia.

[lilacxquartz]

life beyond midnight

oc male!demon × human female!reader

w.c: 2.8k

plot: slowly but surely, you got to the bottom of why you had a live-in incubus in your bedroom. but can you actually trust a word it says?

side notes: being clear right away that this isn’t a multi chapter thing, but a series of one shots to explore my oc with. however, you can consider this to be a direct follow up from the first story.

other works in this series:

under the bed, where midnight slept

***

The monster was still there when I woke up.

This threw me off because it was always gone by the morning. My eyes next scrolled over to the windows, finding that not only were the blinds now closed, but a thick blanket hung over the otherwise bare curtain rails, blocking out almost all of the natural light.

Had it tailored the room for its own comfort while I was asleep?

My alarm went off shortly after, jolting me back into reality. I didn’t have work today for once, which was partially the reason why I chose specifically last night to finally get to the bottom of things.

And just like always, I felt refreshed.

Still, the looming threat remained and my composure was slipping away again. It was as if the sedative from the monster’s kiss was no longer coursing through my bloodstream and I was coming back to terms with reality.

There was a monster right next to me.

The panic was sure taking its sweet time to kick in, though. I knew it would happen at any minute now—likely as soon as I would regain full control of my lucidity.

A part of me told myself not to fear it too much. That nagging, stubborn side of my brain kept arguing that if it truly intended to harm me, it would have done so earlier in the night. Yet when I woke up just moments ago, I seemed just fine.

However, as I thought about more and more of my strange situation. I could feel my mental state slowly continue to wither away.

Maybe it was something about the way the monster held onto me. It didn’t feel as though it was protecting me; rather that it was guarding me. The way it pressed against my flesh with its fingers wrapping around my body bordered almost territorial.

This little observation left me feeling as though I was the monster’s property, rather than its cause for affection.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment in an attempt to calm myself down.

However, it all started to come undone at last.

The dread was finally surfacing.

I turned around while still contained within its grasp, facing the monster head-on. I then slowly pushed myself to the side in an attempt to create some distance. Now that it was no longer nighttime, I could see the monster’s features with more clarity which only deepened the unease.

(And the rising panic.)

Smokey grey skin stretched around an impossible frame; freckled with ashen highlights. Its body continued to burn with shadowy wisps, resembling black fire. My eyes slowly widened in both awe and terror as I took in the sight of the creature before me.

Finally, the gig was up and my psyche started to cave in.

It all hit me at once again. A sharp stab that dug into my chest as my mental state struggled to adapt to reality. That this creature, this monster, was lying in my bed at my side as though it belonged there.

Maybe my reaction was too rash as I quickly tore out of bed in retaliation. A captivating surge of adrenaline pulsated through my veins, pushing me to lurch as far away from the bed as I could leap. My back kissed the cold brick wall right by the bedroom entrance; my hand threatening to press onto the door handle.

Every fibre of my being was screaming at me to escape.

But then monster came around, I watched with steady eyes as it opened up its own and slowly stretched. Its mannerisms seeming oddly human for the terror it appeared to be in my gaze.

I continued to inch towards the door as it stirred, intending to slip out of the bedroom and slip off somewhere, anywhere else that offered more security.

However, as my hands continued to push the handle down, an almost desperate voice halted me in my tracks, “Wait.”

In response, I froze. I could still talk however, so I attempted to ask a question it didn’t quite answer properly before.

It wasn’t as though I could do anything else anyway.

“What are you…?” I asked.

The monster faltered as it stammered. I could tell that its demeanour seemed rehearsed, somehow, not quite buying its behaviour as a result. Maybe this was how the monster truly acted, but something about it seemed uncanny, as though it was mimicking me.

“I’m what your kind would call an incubus,” he replied as he now sat at the edge of my bed, weighing it down, “sometimes known as a sleep paralysis demon.”

“The… s-sexual kind?” I asked, my voice tainted with discomfort.

“Not necessarily,” the demon calmly corrected me, slowly standing up and revealing its tall form, “it doesn’t always have to be like that, especially if you don’t want it to be.”

I started at him for a short while longer, my hand continuing to press at the handle and slowly pushing the door open. I knew already that I wouldn’t get very far, but it seemed to be nervous as I played around with the idea of leaving again and again.

It was odd. I had always thought that demons were supposed to be charismatic, yet this one mimicked a human personality more than anything else. I remained sceptical as a result, convinced that it was playing me somehow.

Maybe I just didn’t know enough about demonology, though.

The demon slowly drifted closer, continuing to speak as it did so, “Most demons, including incubi and succubi are neutral. I can assure you that much. We’re not too different from people.”

I tilted my head off to the side as it continued, his words seeming wrong to me.

The false comfort that it kept trying to feed me only unsettled me further. There was something about this creature that I couldn’t fully trust. It was as though there was some instinctual alarm going off in my gut; a deep primal response that begged me to not trust a single word that came out of his mouth.

It might not have been lying to me completely, but it did seem as though it was at the very least withholding the full truth.

“So, what do you… want from me then?” I asked, my voice croaking a little.

He slowly took another step forward and the closer he crept, the more urgently I pushed at the door. However, my body at the same time, slowly began to statue itself into place as the threat of looming danger worsened.

“When an incubus or a succubus seeks out a human to be with, it’s what is known as a bonded mate,” the demon explained with a gentle tone, although there was a certain intensity within its expression. Despite its lacking irises, the face he wore seemed frustrated for some reason.

My brows furrowed as I seethed out an exasperated whisper, “So, I have no say in the matter at all…?”

Also what? A… bonded mate?

“It’s a decision materialised from fate, which is why my kind often tries to adopt a neutral approach for things like these,” he said, his words deepening my unease.

I did finally get it, though.

“So, you’re trying to coerce me into accepting this… this fate?” I asked, trying to confirm my suspicions.

As far as I understood it, I had no choice or say in the demon being here with me right at this moment. But it also seemed equally trapped. I didn’t like the idea of this one bit, though. However, if this thing was going to continue to play nice for the time being and answer all of my questions, then I had to take advantage of that opportunity lest it slipped away.

The demon sensing my dread tried to offer me comfort, “Look, I don’t want to force you… nor hurt you.”

“Yet I still don’t have a choice?” I asked, feeling my expression sour.

“You do not,” he confirmed.

Such a blunt answer churned something that just wouldn’t settle in my mind. I didn’t like the idea that it seemed insistent on staying here, claiming that its presence was determined by something beyond its own control. If I was going to get anywhere with understanding this creature though, then I had to push aside my fear and seek answers while I still had the chance.

(It was easier said than done though.)

Perhaps though, if it was fate that truly controlled my destiny, then maybe there was a chance that it paired me up with something (somebody?) compatible and my judgement was too early. Maybe this monster was actually perfect for me, despite its unsettling form.

I looked at him once more, sighing as my brain struggled to accept that creatures from hell actually existed and that there was an actual demon standing right in the middle of my bedroom.

Looking at me.

Talking with me.

Reluctantly, I parked my disbelief away, hoping to get somewhere with it.

“So, you’re a demon huh?” I asked in a resigned tone.

It nodded.

I also bobbed my head in an attempt of forced understanding, “And… do you have… a name?”

The incubus paused for a moment as though to deeply consider my question. Its body language relaxed slightly, almost as if this particular question was a breakthrough point between the two of us.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered exactly how first meetings go between other bonded mates. Was there usually more yelling involved? Or were people usually strangely acceptant with demons attempting to court them?

“The closest translation in your language would be Midnight,” he finally spoke up, “so feel free to call me that.”

I pondered that detail for a moment. Would it be silly to assume that its language was Latin? Or was it something completely different? I tried to envision how demons could possibly speak to one another and it didn’t sound too promising in my head, though.

I attempted to introduce myself next, awkwardly mustering up the courage as I continued to croak out my words, “And my name is-“

He quickly interrupted me though, relaying my name right back to me. It seemed that he already knew it, prompting me to hum in confusion.

“And you’re how old… exactly?”

“I’m a little over two hundred,” Midnight replied.

“A-and you haven’t had any other… bonded mates?”I asked, trying to understand how his kind worked exactly.

“No, fate can take a while to assign the right person. Some aren’t matched for centuries,” he explained further.

“So… why now for me? I mean, I have been in my twenties for a while now,” I enquired, struggling to understand the timing.

Midnight’s expression however faltered as if he didn’t quite understand my question either, “I’m not sure about that much, I apologise.”

“Then… c-can you… can you tell me more about you so I can understand what’s happening here exactly?” I asked, feeling my brain short circuit a little as my words scrambled.

“I can be as transparent as you’d like,” Midnight nodded in response, his voice sounding soothing despite carrying an uneasy undertone, “I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“Ah,” I admitted with a unsure smile, “that part might take a while.”

He remained still as I studied him.

The only thing that was getting me through this entire encounter despite his scary appearance, was that he both acted and sounded human to me. Maybe this was an intentional play on his part, hoping to puppet something that resembled a human so that I wouldn’t be screaming bloody murder if it just acted normal. Maybe that much was an unfair assessment, but something about the way Midnight composed himself felt masked.

I warily eyed him up and down from head to toe as he drifted just a little closer, taking mental notes of his appearance. Greying skin glittered with charred specks and certain parts of his body that were deeper consumed by the shadows than others. My eyes trained on his hands where black claws extended from his fingertips, making me wonder if his teeth were similarly pointed.

“I can understand,” he said after a short moment, his words sounding tinged with slight conflict, “my kind can be… unsettling to humans, but I can assure you that I mean no harm. Especially not to you.”

I nodded in an attempt to comfort myself but something still knotted away in my mind. A certain detail about incubi and demons in general that I prayed to be wrong.

With a hesitant tone, I dared to ask what was on my mind, “Don’t incubi feed on something…?”

“Emotional energy, yes,” Midnight confirmed without skipping a beat, “it can be any type and it isn’t limited to just sexual energy if that’s your cause of concern. Every demon is different.”

“So… you’re trying to establish a relationship with me so that you can feed off of me?” I asked, beginning to understand why he was so keen on manipulating me into accepting this situation.

“You could say that, but it doesn’t have to be so one sided. I want to care about you too,” he assured me, his voice taking on a possessive edge.

I hesitated as I attempted to push him away, “I-I mean-“

“—I want to protect you… if you’d let me,” Midnight interrupted, his words coated in concern, continuing the claim that his intentions were good despite admitting that I was a source of food for him.

Such a proposition left me wondering about how exactly he survived for so long without feeding, but my mind held off on asking about such curiosities just yet.

For now, my mind was lost in a barrage of overwhelming thoughts that spread through my brain like wildfire. I didn’t even notice how he had already closed a considerable distance between us as my head ached. I audibly gulped when I did realise it though, feeling dread as he towered over me.

Looking directly down at me.

Despite his looming posture, something about the way he acted once again forced me to let me guard down. It was as if my fears were slowly becoming diluted outside of my own influence.

Was this his doing?

Midnight continued to lean down slowly, his index finger lifting my chin so that he could kiss me again. I felt that familiar rush that resembled a sedative settle within my body, both comforting me and lulling me into trust.

As he closed in, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some sort of magic at play here. If fate and demons were real, then maybe there was more to the world than I knew was possible.

Such a thought both scared and excited me.

In a way I was thrilled that the world wasn’t so mundane, but in contrast, I felt terrified that monsters were actually real.

As the effects of the kiss finally settled, I felt a wave of warmth sweep over me and looking back up at Midnight, he seemed to be looking at me in a different sort of way now.

“Do you still feel afraid?” he asked me, his voice now carrying the same coldness that it did right before I fell asleep with him last night.

Something sinister lurked in his tone as if the kiss was partially laced in some sort of poison in addition to the sedative effect. It felt as though my acceptance for him was fabricated.

“Not right now,” I admitted in a slur. I felt buzzed, elated, even. I knew that I should have been more afraid yet something controlled the way that I spoke, even how I reacted. Deep down, I knew that I didn’t like this but the softly simmering realisation didn’t come to a boil just yet.

Despite this, I still retained some hope through to all.

For one, he could have talked me into something much worse than just a kiss, into something much worse than just reluctant acceptance.

If this was only to make me lessen my fear of him, then it did make me wonder what exactly he was truly up to.

As such, I still held onto my initial scepticism deep down, that Midnight wasn’t being entirely truthful, that there must have been more to him than met the eye and what he was telling me.

After all, wouldn’t I be delusional if I just outright believed his claims? To entertain the idea that something so heavenly that was forged from the hells was offering me a neutral choice in how our relationship would go?

I just couldn’t buy it at all.

The idea of my existence serving as food a monster didn’t sit right with me and yet, I almost wanted to see where this whole thing would take me.

Even if I was terrified to see just how far we would both go.

(To hell? Or maybe even worse…?)

[peachphernalia]

click for higher quality

do you ever see yourself ?

[alt ver. with different colors under the cut and ramble in tags]

[dream by joku]

[bi-disastersoup]

Into the Void - Part 1

Welcome to a new VN series. These ones are much shorter, so I won't be doubling up the images.

Greatly recommended you read Shifters first if you haven't, or some of the stuff covered in this series might not make a ton of sense.

very mild CW for emetophobia and also spoilers for patch 6.2 MSQ (takes place right after the second fight with Scarmiglione)

Let's go.

Strap in, ya'll.

(Part 2)

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

"Honestly, Agent, sometimes I can't wrap my head around you. All the things you can order at Decent Alaska, and you choose a common burger? When their frankfurter mastery rivals anything this side of the state? Are we truly certain you're my agent?"

[ashtray-girl]

nothing more infuriating than being blamed for not knowing things no one ever bothered to explain to you in the first place

[lulu2992]

What's your favorite order to kill the Heralds in and why? <3

I don’t really have a favorite order, simply because I wish I could have not killed them 😅 In my first playthrough, I did John-Faith-Jacob, and in my second, Jacob-Faith-John, but I still started with the Holland Valley. I only went to the church for my Atonement when there was nothing left to do in the county.

That said, I think that what the game wants us to do is either Jacob-John-Faith (because of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse and the Seven Seals) or John-Jacob-Faith.

Dutch says to go to Fall’s End first because it’s the heart of the Resistance, and Holland Valley is also the mildest region since you mostly deal with regular cultists, not super soldiers and mind-controlled wolves or hallucinations and Angels everywhere. I kind of regret going to the Henbane River so early in my first playthrough because this region really took a toll on me. The Whitetails Mountains felt less intense in comparison.

In a way, John is the least powerful Herald and the easiest to take down (as frustrating as that dogfight can be) and, from what I understand, anyone who joins the Project has to meet The Baptist first, so I think it makes sense for the Deputy to do the same. After Jacob’s death, Wheaty motivates the Whitetails to end Eden’s Gate, but in my opinion, his speech implies that the fight against the cult is far from over, so killing The Soldier last seems a bit weird. Then, while her brothers each take only one Deputy, Faith captures two people, one of them being the Sheriff who, when she’s been defeated, says it’s time to go after Joseph, so taking down The Siren last feels right to me.

Also, in the Holland Valley, no major Resistance member dies, but in the Whitetail Mountains, one person is killed (Eli), and in the Henbane River, the Deputy loses two allies (Virgil and Burke), so if you play the regions in this order, things get more and more violent as you progress. And if you do John-Jacob-Faith, Joseph’s eulogies also get increasingly sad: he doesn’t cry for John, cries a bit for Jacob, and cries a lot for the last family member (Faith in this case).

Anyway, I think Holland Valley-Whitetail Mountains-Henbane River is the most logical order. Then, it makes sense to me to do either John-Jacob-Faith (for gameplay reasons) or Jacob-John-Faith (because of the prophecy).

[morhath]

ughhhhhh I am NOT going to get all the cleaning done that I wanted to get done before travel :/

[big-pp-energy-ven]

Twitter always reminds me why I gave it up in the first place back in 2020.

I mean other than the George Floyd protests (which I was very consumed in because it was amazing to see how people came together), watching and reading such negative stories/tweets about the aftermath of his death and the racism coming out from everyone made me feel hopeless, and I made a good decision to cut Twitter from my social media consumption for a good 3 years.

Of course, after some time and making a new account, I curated my feed to fit my interests, and I've rarely gotten any negative content since I came back to it this year for art and friends.

However, it's making me once again realize how Twitter in its current condition that its not a great place to be due to how weird people are over there.

Like...

Twitter circles? I don't get that. I've seen people and mutuals on there being like "I cleared my circle, lemme know if you wanna be on it! If ignore you, that means I don't want you in it."

??? What?

I mean, I get it, you don't want just anybody to be in your circle, but why it just feels... strange? Feels like I'm missing a piece of information. I generally dont care who follows/unfollows me, who's cirlce I'm in, who I'm mutuals with, who blocked me, etc etc.. but it just hurts my brain to see this kinda behavior?

Tumblr is so different because I have that same attitude, and for the most part, it's not a massive deal? I can't explain it. Also, I guess seeing how I've had friends who have been getting blocked and "canceled" for mistakes and miscommunication or for simply being different has left a bad taste in my mouth. The fact that one of my friends said how they just feel a sense of dread from even opening the app hurts my heart. Most creators I know need it to make a living, too!

I don't like Twitter culture at all. I'll keep posting my art and responding to nice comments and such, but I don't feel obligated to either. I could very easily just dip and not post on there. That's how I feel. I'm not tied down to Twitter, same way I'm not tied down to Instagram or tiktok.

It sucks that platforms for artists to post on are dwindling and becoming so hostile towards us with AI or negative changes. I hope things will get better, and there will be more places for people to share art (like Artfol).

[naomiknight-17]

I hit the wrong spot with my injection on the weekend and I got a big ol nasty blue bruise on my tummy :(

[dazais-guardian-angel]

went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

[namtanlovesfilm]

today made me realize that I am in fact NOT a hater like I always proclaimed, because tell me why nanonmild has been the only the jungle pairing I've enjoyed so far when I am THE NUMBER ONE offmild stan lol. I guess I'm actually just a good judge of character 🤷🏻‍♀️

[squish--squash]

I think it would be interesting if there was like, a documentary or smth like a deep dive focused on the phenomenon I like to dub the "monkey's paw" of the internet which is where a content creator quickly rises to fame/quickly becomes popular but are then pitted against so much slander, controversies, hate, and/or discourse that it either ruins that person's content creating career or damages it to a degree that will never be fixed

because it keeps happening. over and over I've seen content creators suddenly rise out of the depths and gain masses of followers only for it to topple like a poorly-played jenga tower only a few years later due to controversies and hate. meanwhile, other content creators build a following in a slow, steady way where while they might not be that known, the people who do know them support them wholeheartedly.

And I want to know WHY this keeps happening. I have a lot of theories on this (jealousy of success breeding extreme hate, sudden fame clouding judgement and leading to poor decisions, the lack of trust the apprehension more and more people are having towards newer famous people nowadays, etc) but it would be nice to once day get more than just these theories on why this keeps happening, and if this "trend" will ever stop or just get worse as time progresses