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bangarangdarling · 11 months

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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go.

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe.

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling.

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo.

It was the proverbial straw.

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing.

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead.

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range.

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Geez, need attention much?”

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?”

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.”

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea.

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all.

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,”

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude.

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly.

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up.

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified. “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come here?”

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm.

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs. “Dude, what the hell?”

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?”

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth.

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?”

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking.

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.”

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move.

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,” Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them.

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!”

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.”

“You guys, let’s just go already,”

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,”

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together.

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man.

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in.

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.”

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that.

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!”

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly.

#Listen this is cheesy and poorly written but i HAD to #go find that tik tok because it was hilarious but also radiated love and healthy parenting #they called it 'gentle parenting with malicious intent' looooool #steddie #the party #my brain vomit

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etherealkissed88 · 5 days

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I don't know if you've already made a post about this, but I wanted to ask: How can I be more positive about the protests, not being a privileged person? I'm not the prettiest, I'm not the smartest, I'm not rich (in fact I want to manifest better conditions), I feel mentally exhausted. I'm kind of just desperate to manifest a better life for myself and my family, but I feel so negative about it. I feel like I'm just going to become another one of the statistics about poor people; Sometimes I question the results of certain people, because I actually don't know if they are already privileged in a certain way, whether it's because she's pretty, smart or has money. Some people who talk about staying positive, manifest, selfcare, are privileged people, not rich people, but people with excellent financial and psychological conditions; I'm sad, because I really don't have money for self-care or therapy, I feel guilty, sad and insufficient because I don't have enough money:(

do not pretend these circumstances arent there. realize that you are self that chooses what to accept as true. yes, you have a choice. what you should do is become indifferent to what you experience. yes it is in the 3d but “it doesnt affect who i am and what version of myself i choose to be.”

i think the reason why u may be getting a mental burn out is because you are trying to persuade or force yourself to believe that what your human self is experiencing in the 3d, is not there. again - indifference. another important concept is the nuetral 3d. it never has original meaning. we give it meaning.

i know how you feel about being tired of life - and from my experience, i was so tired of living a life i didnt like that it motivated me to actually apply the law and use my power to get what i want. the law is always working for you so you are always in control, and when you live this “negative” life, it is you - the operant power, allowing yourself to stick in this “negative” life. you are choosing to be this version of you who lives like this. you are being the one who is living that.

know that it is not - the 3d shows me something -> then i become a version of me / i embody a version of me which matches the 3d. it will always be, i am a version of me -> the 3d follows that bc i am the 3d. signs follow, they do not precede.

you cannot let what you see influence who you become. bc who you become is why you are seeing what you see. who you are being is why you see what you see through that perspective, thro that state.

a lot of ppl have manifested great things and complete transformations without being privileged at first. stop focusing on other success stories and make yourself the success story. success story = changing self!

for the feelings of guilt and sadness, allow yourself to feel that bc emotions are human nature. what you shouldnt do is feel like those emotions are ruining anything, or try to suppress these emotions, or make imaginary and “negative” stories out of those emotions. they are always neutral!

when you are experiencing bad things, so what you need to do to make ends meet in the 3d such as getting a job to get that money you want. whatever you do shouldnt intertwine with the rich version of you that you are being. you can do whatever you want in the 3d while being/knowing you have what you want already. but you do not self-sabotage your human self because you think that doing stuff in the 3d will “ruin your manifestation”. example: you are broke in real life so you get a job while being the version of self who is already rich. it doesnt matter what you experience in the 3d bc all that matters is who self is being. if you didnt take that job but you are struggling financially, there is still the human self to take care of (you need money for food, shelter, etc) so again, nothing you do in the 3d matters as long as you are changing self.

to wrap up: it doesnt matter what you see in the 3d. clearly you claim: you arent the prettiest or smartest or richest. thats the issue. you are accepting those versions of you. you are being those versions of you.

& “how to be more positive?” : decide you are positive and happy. i can recommend visualizing yourself living the life you want and eventually you will fulfill yourself and be this new version of you.

skim this for other questions: 🧼

- cutie jani

#ask jani🎀#law of assumption #loa blog #manifesting #loassumption #neville goddard #edward art #etherealkissed #imagination creates reality #affirm and persist #desired self #desired life

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yamisnuffles · 2 months

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I love Aziraphale because he's expected to be hard, to be a warrior, but he chooses to be soft. He's not gentle, kind, and good because he's an angel. We've seen what the other angels are like and many of them are anything but. And there's no doubt that he could be that warrior if he wanted. He was issued a flaming sword, after all. But he gave it away and seemed none to eager to use it when he finally picked it up again. No, he is who he is because he chooses to be that way again and again.

I adore that. In a world that's often so hard and in a system that expects him to be just as hard, he chooses to be soft. To be silly. He learns to dance even though angels don't dance. He learns magic and French the human way. Successful or not, he likes playing parts, living it up as a double agent and newspaperman. He wears glasses because he thinks they're nifty. He enjoys eating food and going to the barber not because he has to but because he likes being pampered. To be fussy and indulgent. Despite strength and miraculous powers, he makes himself vulnerable so that he can be coddled and rescued.

And it's not like it's easy for him. He has to struggle against what's expected of him and against judgment from the other angels. He was worried about doing the wrong thing before the beginning, before there was even really a concept of the wrong thing. He's so terribly anxious but he doesn't let it stop him from trying to do real good. He did his part to save Job's family, even when he was certain he would fall for it.

Most difficult of all, he loves. Is in love. A thing humans do, he says to the Archangels in S2. So that's not just some easy, natural, angelic thing for him. It's very human and very scary because it's not really something he's meant to do and especially not with a demon. But he pushes slowly forward as best he can. He risks small touches and can't help but wear his heart on his sleeve with that all too expressive face. He's the angelic embodiment of heart eyes. Because he wants to love and be loved.

This isn't all he is, of course. He can be bitchy and petty and hard when pushed. He can be the warrior he was built to be. Those aren't bad things. Just enough of a bastard and all that. But just enough also means they also don't define him.

Which is where my frustration comes in. I understand the desire to flip the script sometimes. I like to do it myself from time to time and definitely think Aziraphale should be allowed to take charge. But it feels like, more often than not, large parts of fandom have taken those moments and made them all of who he is. Of the two of them, he's often made to be much more impassive and distant than Crowley. It's Crowley who is more emotional, who is more overcome physically. Despite the fact that it's almost entirely Aziraphale in canon who reaches and touches. Despite Michael Microexpressions Sheen putting so much open heart into Aziaphale's face. He isn't allowed to be soft and needy, comforted, coddled, and rescued. To be the one who yearns and lets himself be weak with it.

Just... let him be soft and silly. Let him be the person he most often chooses to be.

#aziraphale #good omens #long post #gos2 #pls I'm old and tired and not trying to pick a fight #just I so often see someone wearing aziraphale's face #and have to say #this is not my beautiful house #this is not my beautiful wife #good omens meta #meta #sort of lol #more a wild ramble

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fooled-around-and-fell · 11 months

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Becoming Human

Summary: Adam heard you're feeling lonely, so his grand idea was to be a human (literally) to try and make you feel like you were at home.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Adam Warlock x female reader

"Whoa, whoa, wait." Quill put his hand up, stopping Adam from explaining his point. "You want me to teach you how to be a human?"

Adam nodded. "Please."

"Well first of all, Midas, no human on Earth is gold, so.. we're gonna.. have to change that."

"My name is not Midas. That's a funny name."

"That's-- Nevermind." Quill sighed. "Why do you want to be a human anyway?"

Adam pursed his lips. "Research.. purposes?"

Quill could tell he was lying, but decided not to ask any further. Whatever kind of stupidity Adam was doing, he wanted no part of it.

"Alright, I know a guy. Just sit tight and I'll bring him over."

"Thanks, bro."

Quill frowned, Adam was clearly trying to act more human but it didn't work. "Never say that again."

"Right."

You joined the Guardians of the Galaxy when Thor decided to join them too. It didn't take long until Thor left again, but you decided to stick around.

You and Thor are good friends, you stayed through all of his ups and downs. But eventually you realized you needed to figure out who you were, and you can only do that yourself.

Rocket joined you in the diner, which you worked so hard for to get it approved. You loved diners back on Earth, and smash burgers was what you missed most. You introduced it to the team, and they've loved it ever since.

"Are you... dipping your fries in milkshake?" Rocket asked, a big hint of judgment there.

"Don't judge me. This is my comfort food."

Rocket grabbed a few fries and dipped it in the shake, following you. "Alright, it's not that bad, but I am definitely judging you."

He grabbed his own milkshake and sat on the counter.

"How you holding up?"

"I'm okay."

"It's been a while since you last visited Earth. Your Earth." He said, "If you ever want to go, we can take you."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it."

"Alright, no problem." He nodded. "Now- What the fuck is that??"

You turned towards the door where Rocket was looking and almost dropped your milkshake.

"Oh God-" You covered your mouth. Was it a laugh that was going to come out? Just shock? You had no idea how to react when you see Adam walk in the diner wearing Quill's polo shirt and.. looking like a proper British man -- especially with his accent.

"Uh," Adam swallowed thickly.

Rocket took it as a sign to leave, but also he did not want to deal with whatever's going on.

Adam approached you slowly. You, who's still covering your mouth in shock, but a grin is slowly forming underneath.

"You're freaked out." He stated. "I.. don't know why I did this.. now that I think about it, this was such a bad idea..."

"No, no," You quickly interrupted him. "You look good, really good. I just.. I was not expecting this."

Adam had a smile on his face after seeing your ear-to-ear grin. "Actually, I overheard you talking to yourself the other day. You said you felt lonely, and to make you feel better I thought you'd feel less lonely if you're with another human-" he rambled on, "and so I asked Drax -- which I now realize was a mistake."

Chuckling, you fixed the collar of his shirt. "So you did this to make me feel less lonely?"

He shrugged. "Is it working?"

"Adam," You held his hands, your smile unable to fall from your lips. "I do feel lonely sometimes, but it's not because I'm not surrounded by other humans. It's just a feeling that comes and goes."

"But," you continued, "Just being here with everyone, with you, makes me feel ten times better."

"Really?"

You nodded. "This was very sweet of you."

Adam let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you feel that way."

"But how did you do this?" You asked, asking him to turn around.

"Quill knew a guy.. he made a very strange looking liquid." He chuckled. "Should wear off in a couple of hours."

You placed your hands on his face. "Good. I like the real you better."

Adam pecked your lips. "Quill said I'd make a good.. himbo. What's that?"

You giggled. "It means someone dumb but beautiful."

"Oh," He considered it. "That's not so bad."

He kissed you again while you were laughing.

"You made my week, Adam."

He hummed just so happened to notice himself in the mirror behind you. "I do look great as a human. Maybe I should do this more often."

"No. Please."

a/n: idk why I've been in love with Will Poulter these past few days.

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nocreativityfornames · 11 months

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Hi idk if you’re taking requests rn but if you aren’t you can just ignore this but

Could you do the brothers with a gn s/o that is touch starved? Like they’re kinda tense and uncomfortable, but when someone gives them any physical affection they just melt. Also could you do it in order of who finds out 1st to last?

I hope this isn’t to bad. Have a good day/night :}

The Brothers With A Touch Starved MC

First of all, I'm so sorry Anon for how long it took for me to answer this. I wrote like half of it weeks ago and then completely forgot to finish, only picking up on it now ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ But yes, thank you so much for the request! <3

Asmodeus

• Asmo is definitely the first one to find out, because come on, this man is always being affectionate and touchy.

• It happens when you're in the kitchen getting some snacks for yourself. You were planning to watch a movie with Mammon, but he had cancelled it last minute saying he had been called for an important shoot.

• So you decide to just watch the movie alone, ready to leave the kitchen and hole up yourself in your room when Asmo shows up.

• He's holding up two different jackets and asking which one he should wear to the event he's going to. When you pick one, and he jumps with excitement, claiming he knew you'd chose that one because it really was the best option.

• In the heat of the moment he hugs you, ready to leave soon after. But then he notices how stiff you become the moment he hugs you, as if you weren't expecting his touch at all.

• You also look incredibly disappointed when he steps back, and he only giggles at first. "Aww, do you want more?" He teases, hugging you again.

• This time around is when he notices how serious the situation is, because the moment he hugs you you practically melt, your entire body relaxing to his touch.

• "Sweetie, why didn't you tell me you were feeling like this? You know I'm all for showering you with affection!"

• When you explain it's because not only him, but all the brothers have been busy lately and you didn't want to bother them, his heart sinks.

• He's so mad at himself and his brothers for not noticing any of this. And he will definitely send a message in the group chat later to scold all of them for it.

• "Alright, we're going to my room." "Wh– what about the event?" "That's not important right now, my darling is needy and I'm going to spoil them with love till they're sick of it! ♡"

Mammon

• Next up is Mams.

• He feels so guilty when he sees Asmo's message in the group chat explaining everything and does everything in his power to leave his shoot earlier so he can get to you.

• Comes barging into your room as soon as he gets home, makeup from the shoot still on his face. "Oi, you stupid human, why didn't ya tell us–"

• He stops himself immediately.

• "Wait. No, scratch that...! I-I'm sorry, I should've been payin' attention to this stuff. All of us should've noticed this… I'm real sorry, alright...?"

• You forgive him, knowing he didn't mean to make you feel this way.

• "So…about that movie you were talkin' about. You didn't watch it on your own, did ya?" "No, Asmo kind of interrupted that..." "Alright, good! 'Cause we're watchin' it now. And I'm not letting go of ya till it's done!"

Beelzebub & Belphegor

• The twins come to your room together that same night, each apologizing in their own words.

• Beel brings you your comfort food as a way to make up to you while Belphie himself had already started clinging to you, pulling you towards your bed.

• "Please tell us when you feel like this. No matter what we're doing, we'll drop everything and come to you, alright?" Beel assures you, hopping in bed to cling to your other side while Belphie is already burying his face on the crook of your neck.

• You nod and he smiles, pulling the covers over the three of you. "We love you more than anything in the world, MC..." Belphie mutters this time, bringing a smile to your face.

• "I love you all as well." You respond while getting more comfortable between the two. It's best sleep you've had ever in a good long while.

Leviathan

• Levi makes a point to apologize to you the next day, hugging you tight.

• "I'm sorry, I got into this new game lately and ended up shutting myself in my room again. I was expecting the others to keep you company and all, so I didn't think it was a big deal if I didn't show up for a few days…"

• He stays clinging to you, cleary feeling very guilty about the whole thing as well. "It's not an excuse though, I should've come to check up on you. I'm sorry, MC, I failed you… B-But I'm making up to you now, I promise!"

• Levi is now blushing, "W-We can play one of your favorite games together, or go out and do normie stuff like going on a date or something! A-Anything, I'll do anything, okay…?"

Satan

• He sends you a long text first, apologizing for not being present enough recently.

• And then invites you for a picnic date at the park, assuring you that he'll prepare everything himself as a way to make up to you.

• Everything is very beautifully done, and the food he prepared for the date is amazing as well. And he apologizes once again while you two are there, since he didn't feel like the text was enough.

• The date goes super well, and you two chat together while eating his amazing cooking.

• "You're never a bother, alright?" He reassures you as you two pull away from a kiss. "No matter how busy I am, please know that I'd never be mad at you for reaching out. You're my partner, and I love you, so don't go thinking I'd ever be upset at you for wanting something as simple as spending more time with me."

Lucifer

• It's night when you hear him call your name from the other side of the door, letting him know he can come in.

• Lucifer opens up a smile as soon as he sees you studying at your desk. "I hope I didn't kept you waiting for too long?" He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, "Allow me to say this, I'm so terribly sorry. I was so busy with work that I forgot to check on how you were doing."

• He sighs apologetically. His later smile however is a soft one as he hands you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

• "I'm free for the rest of the day, so what do you say we got out for a while? We can have dinner together, and I'll shower you with all the affection you've been missing the past few days."

#this was my first time doing a requestttt #did I do well...?#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #omswd #obey me #asks and requests ～⁠♡#☙ no creativity for names ✾

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w1ldthoughts · 3 months

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An Ice Cream Cake?

A/n: Anon requested dad to be Justin!

Disclaimer: this is a work of FICTION, the characters are fictionalized versions of real life situations and real people. It’s all based on my imagination.

Masterlist

“Well, as much as it hurt me to do this…I got your cheeseburger and fries. And the pink lemonade you wanted.” He sighs, setting down the bag.

You wrap your arms around him as much as your new bump allows, having ‘popped’ a few weeks ago. Baby Herbert was definitely making their presence known and you both have been trying to get used to it. “Thank you for putting aside your disdain for In N’ Out for me. I know it must’ve been really hard.” You soothingly ran a hand along his back as he smiled at your joke.

“Only because I love our baby and that’s what the two of you were craving. Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.” You laugh as he shakes his head in disappointment.

The offseason has always been more special. You get to see Justin more and actually spend time together instead of seeing glimpses of him either on his way to the facility or on his way to the home office to watch film. But this offseason was even more special because it would be the last one before the two of you became parents. There was so much uncertainty though. What kind of mother were you going to be? The good cop or bad cop? What about your privacy? It was nice now because you were back in Oregon and no one bothered you here, but would that change when training camp rolled around in two months? And what if—

“Babe? Did you hear what I said?” Justin asks, pulling you out of your trance. You shook your head no and took a bite of your food, waiting for him to repeat himself. “Where’d you go just now? What are you thinking about?”

You offer him a fry that he happily accepts as he sits down next to you, placing a hand on your leg. “I’m thinking about how we’re going to be in charge of an entire human being for the rest of our lives. We’re gonna have to protect them and guide them through life and…potty train them. Justin, how are we supposed to teach a child to use the bathroom and—don’t laugh,” you tell him, even though you’re holding yours in. “How are you so calm about this?”

He takes ahold of one of your hands. “You know why I’m not worried? Because I know that you’re going to be an amazing mom. This baby and all future Herbabies are so unbelievably lucky to have you.”

You snort. “Did you really just say Herbabies?”

“Yeah, that was bad,” he sighs, “I knew it was terrible the second it came out of my mouth. But you get what I mean.” He shrugs nonchalantly, secretly proud of himself because he knows he just got you out of your head.

“I do,” you giggle, shaking your head at him. “Terrible dad joke aside, I needed that. I think the cake I picked up today just made it feel more real.”

Earlier in the day you’d picked up the little gender reveal cake for you and Justin to cut into. The idea of having an entire gathering with phones and a potential invasion of privacy did not sound like the best idea. So you and your husband decided to make it a moment just between the two of you.

Not to say you’d been thinking about it all day but…you’d been thinking about it all day.

Silence washed over you as you were about to get up to throw away your trash, but Justin stopped you and did it himself. You were starting to wonder if you’d ever lift a finger again.

Not that you were complaining.

He stood across from you at the kitchen counter, tapping his fingers on the marble. “Can we please cut this cake? The suspense is killing me.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up to grab the cake out of the freezer, Justin’s eyes going wide.

“You bought an ice cream cake?” He sounded like a little kid, his smile reaching his ears with the dimple in all of its glory. You hoped your baby would have one too.

“It’s mint chocolate chip too.”

He lets out a deep breath and lets out a hum…looking right at the cake.

You clear your throat with a laugh, “should I give you two a minute?”

“No, we're good. Let’s do this.”

With his shaky hand enclasped in yours, you sliced into the cake together.

After you set down the knife Justin delicately tilts your chin up to pull you in for a kiss. His lips touch yours with so much love and tenderness that you almost feel weak in the knees. You return the gesture with as much intensity as you can muster up, all of the emotions wrapped up in this moment were hitting you both at once. The nerves you had earlier, to the joy that is now filling the entire room take your breath away and you pull back from the kiss, staring into his glossy eyes.

He wipes at his eyes with a wet laugh, still in disbelief—until he remembers the ice cream cake.

“We should probably have some of this before it completely melts. Do you and baby girl want a little slice or a big slice?”

“A little slice please.”

“One little slice, coming right up.”

He was going to be a girl dad and he couldn’t wait.

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fanfic #justin herbert fluff

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moonshine-nightlight · 10 months

Text

Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Six

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 26

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine][Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] Part Twenty-Six [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

You’re grateful this gala does not require a grand entrance despite it being the last of the parties at the Governor’s house and in Connton. Instead, you're on a dais to one side of the room in a sort of receiving area. Everyone who's come to Connton but will not be going to the wedding itself on the Northridge estate has come. They all want a chance to speak to the Northridges and express their well-wishes before you leave town. You've had no moment to yourself since arriving.

It's a real test of your memory. You've met so many new people over the course of these galas and now you must see if you can match the faces to their owners. Dale is surprisingly good at doing so, thank the light. Your notes help you to remember specific details with the names, so you end up working well with each other to ensure no one thinks you’ve forgotten them.

You fall into an easy back and forth rhythm and you can't help how satisfied your partnership makes you feel, even if you begin to grow tired with the constant social interaction. It's been over an hour without a pause in conversation you're expected to be attentive and contributing to. Dale appears ready to continue into perpetuity, but you hope when the next round of food is announced, the unofficial line of those you need to speak with will have dwindled enough that you can stop for a time. You’ve never been so eager to join the typical press and crowd of a typical gala.

Of course, after you've spoken to those who sought you out to, there will likely be a number requesting dances with yourself or Dale. You can only hope that's after the food as you've once more reached the part of the evening where your anxiety has been quelled by weariness.

Something bumps your hand and you turn to see Dale offering you a goblet of wine, light and cool. You smile gratefully at him, murmuring your thanks and unsure why the kind gesture brings heat to your face. You sip on the drink, your throat thankful and your mind appreciating the reprieve from talking as Dale brings your current discussion away from the intricacies of divining new mineral deposits and onto the wine. You're able to hum appreciatively in all the right places and the couple moves on with a polite smile.

Dale presses close to you, leaning over to peer into your nearly empty wine glass. "Another?"

You shake your head, resisting the urge to lean into him. The evening's just begun, you remind yourself, it's too early to be tired. "I am fine for now."

"I'll be fine once it is time for the main course," Dale grumbles good-naturedly. "Grandmother ushered us up here so quickly I could snatch nothing more than a single roll."

"I think the crowd around us is thinning," you attempt to console him. Dale is nearly always hungry, or so it seems to you, but he isn't wrong. Between the meeting this afternoon to discuss the assassins, the preparations for this final gala, and then being whisked away to hosting duties as soon as you arrived, you two haven't had a meal since breakfast a little before noon. "The later crowd should not gather until after supper."

"Thank the stars for that," Dale mutters as he takes your goblets to leave them on a side table. "This day has been nothing but talks and discussions."

"I agree," you say. "I do believe the musicians Grandmother hired for the wedding arrived in town tonight and shall be playing at this gala."

"Oh? Good, good.” Dale looks cheered by the prospect of some physical activity as you’d hoped. “I know some of our guests are already filling our dance cards, but the first few I intend not to give away."

You know he's probably only looking forward to not having to make conversation, but you like to imagine he also simply would appreciate your company. "I agree." You share a smile with him.

You look away only so as to locate the next guest and finish, itching even more for this first round of focused socializing to end. Instead you hear a familiar voice greeting Grandmother. You stiffen, but at the same time, you're grateful that this final shoe has dropped. You've spent all evening anticipating your family's arrival. At the same time, you're still surprised to see your mother speaking with Grandmother, your father at her side and your brother on the other.

You can feel Dale turn with you, but you can't look away. Has it truly only been a couple months since you were last living with them in your home fief? It feels like so much longer.

Your father meets your eyes first and you can see he also needs a second to take you in. He looks the same as always, the crisp lines of his naval uniform that he prefers to wear for any event is as neat as always, the buttons shined to perfection. It's you who has changed. Still, he smiles, tilting his head for you to join them.

You start toward them automatically and glance up at Dale when you sense him following. His eyes are fixed on them and from the way his bearing and attention have sharpened, you know you don't need to tell them who they are.

"...cannot be helped, of course," your mother is saying to Grandmother.

"Of course," Grandmother says sympathetically. "We are pleased you were able to make this gala if that is what you have been dealing with."

You only hesitate when you get closer, habit telling you to stand behind your father, but you take your correct place at Grandmother's left. You’re surprised to see your oldest brother is here as well. As the inheriting lord, he had every reason to stay at home given your parents’ presence. Your mother's eyes land on you immediately, you can feel her looking you over, but it's your father who speaks first.

“You look lovely, my child." His smile is minimal, but his voice is quiet and warm. He’s where you get your desire to avoid the spotlight from. He’s more than happy to stand in your mother’s shadow at events and he was the one who often employed your ill health to excuse himself from events he couldn't get out of with other obligations when in the country. When you were feeling up for it, he would read to you. On the other hand, if you were too ill, he could never bring himself to stay long.

“Thank you, Father.” You try to push down the return of feeling like a child play acting an adult, something you haven't felt in weeks. Your hand still can't help but smooth your skirts before you meet your mother's eyes.

"You do," your mother confirms, her expression schooled politeness as it always is at public events. It makes it hard for even you to read her. "Even if it surprises my mother's heart to see you in your betrotheds' colors rather than our own. They suit you well."

"Thank you, Mother,” you reply, more focused on your role as a host than fully absorbing her comment, though it echoes one of your own thoughts when you first donned your Northridge dress. Since Father and Grandmother Northridge were the ones who arranged this marriage contract while Dale was away, none of your family has actually met him. You gesture to Dale. “Please allow me to introduce Lord Dale of Northridge, my fiancé.” Dale bows as you continue. “Lord Dale, allow me to introduce my parents, Lord Henry and Lady Fiore of Portsmith, and my brother Lord Asher."

Everyone murmurs pleasantries and greetings while you wait for your nerves to relax. It looks like Asher left his wife home to manage the fief, but did bring at least some of his children, who you can see behind him. You spot your older sister as well, with her husband and heir, all the way from Khinat, but they’re speaking with a few other guests nearby.

Grandmother, and Grandfather move to greet them with Asher acting as the spokesperson for your family, allowing you a moment with your parents. Your mother clasps your arms, making a bit of a show of looking you up and down, before she pulls you into a quick embrace that ends nearly as soon as it started. “I’m pleased you're doing well,” she says quietly enough only you can hear. “I’d been worried about you, away from us.”

You flush. “Mother, I’ve been away longer for school.”

“It is not the same,” she insists, but refuses to elaborate. She steps back and frowns at your dress. “While the colors are lovely, your sleeves are too short,” your mother tuts. “You must be having chills with these.” She gives one of your short sleeves a small tug. “I know they are the fashion now, but you mustn’t neglect your health. Do you have a shawl? Obviously not, or you’d have worn it. I shall have one over to you tomorrow. We’ll ensure the rest of your clothing is sent to Northridge once we return.”

You resist the urge to sigh, to say anything about her own fashionable dress. You merely wait for her to finish speaking her piece. “Thank you, Mother.”

“This gala looks lovely,” Mother continues, looking around with sharp but pleased eyes. “Most befitting such an occasion for Northridge,” she nods graciously at Dale, but continues before he can reply. “I’ve never been to Connton, but it's a charming city. We had some difficulties with the weather and some troublemakers on the river, so it is relieving to have arrived. Although I suppose we have yet to make the final ride tomorrow.”

‘Troublemakers’ likely means folks upset about a tax raise who tried to hold up the boat when they saw the family flags flying, saying those who levied said taxes were aboard. Mother had all sorts of euphemisms for various spots of danger or attacks that might occur. ��Troublemakers’ meant no one was injured or else they would have been ‘ruffians’. As far as you know, they are not common codewords and exist primarily to keep up appearances.

Dale sees his opportunity and says, “The ride is an easy one, only a day or two depending primarily on how quickly the traffic in and out of the city is moving.”

“Very good,” Mother says. “Are there proper wayhouses betwixt your estate and this city? Given all of our travels, we are likely to leave later and I’ve no desire to ride much in a day or overnight.” Mother gets sick to her stomach if she spends too much time in a carriage, you remember. She’s likely bothered that they can’t continue to sail.

“Yes,” Dale answers before you can. “I can provide the name of where we stay if we stop for the night. We’ll be leaving early enough tomorrow that we won’t be stopping. My understanding from speaking with other guests is that many will arrive gradually throughout the week so it should not be overcrowded.” There will be dinners each night on the estate, but no more formal galas until the wedding. You cannot wait for the lull of social activity before you must be put on a stage.

“Wonderful,” Mother says with a smile up at Dale. She glances around for her secretary who starts to make her way over once Mother makes eye contact with her. “We had meant to inquire sooner, but had never anticipated being so delayed.”

Dale dutifully relates the necessary travel information to her, without you needing to say a thing. Once she has the information not only about the wayhouse, but also regarding what wing of the estate your family will be staying, Mother bustles away with her secretary to ensure your siblings and their families receive the same details, Nevermind waiting to do so in the morning or trusting her secretary to speak with theirs. Nevermind if any of them had planned to leave earlier or stay in Connton an additional day or so. She’ll want the family to all stay together.She leaves, but not before saying, “And I shall check to see if we’ve brought along a spare shawl for you.”

You give your father a look and he nods before following her, so there’s hope she won’t actually return with one to give you. You stay where you are, needing a moment to recollect yourself after seeing them again.

Dale’s quiet voice, leaned close for just you to hear, interrupts your thoughts, “It is not cold and her sleeves…” You wave off his logical points about the fact that it is nearly halfway through Hectary and Mother’s own sleeves were short before he can make them. “Do not try to make sense of it. I’m receiving a shawl now and there would have been no persuading her otherwise.”

“As you say.” Dale sounds confused and skeptical, but he doesn’t argue with you. It is too much to try to explain that Mother often thought your fits were motivated by cold since they at times resembled shivers. She often tried to dress you far more warmly than the occasion called for and had only mildly backed off after you had heat exhaustion once while home on holiday a couple years ago.

A tug on your hand draws your attention to your niece, who you’re guessing is allowed to attend this gala for a couple hours and only on her best behavior. Naturally, she’s snuck away from Asher’s side already. Ten year old Rose had followed you around the family house when you returned from schooling a year ago, suddenly fascinated by you. She’d actually been upset when you left for Northridge and refused to say goodbye.

Instead of greeting you or introducing herself, she narrows her eyes, looking suspiciously from you to Dale. "This is who you are marrying?"

"Hello to you as well, Rose,” you say, but she just crosses her arms with a huff. Deciding that it is not your job to teach her manners—especially not when you feel she is only choosing to ignore them, not ignorant of them—you simply answer her question. “Yes, this is Lord Dale.” Turning to Dale, you explain, “Rose is my niece, Asher’s youngest."

"Pleased to meet you Lady Rose," Dale says with a short bow.

Rose blinks before executing a perfunctory curtsy, though it does nothing to diminish her frown. "You're not what I expected," she says bluntly.

"Rose," you admonish. This is pushing it, even for a child at one of her first events such as this. You have seen her deal politely with guests at the house before and have no idea what could be compelling her to be so rude. Not to mention you've not seen Dale interact with any children and have no idea how he will take her attitude. After all, he didn't grow up with siblings underfoot nor their children.

"In what way?" Dale asks instead, only sounding curious.

Rose hums, tapping her chin in an exaggerated mimic of Asher that you feel some of your frustration melting. If Dale's not put off, and your Mother is out of earshot, then you don’t mind indulging her to an extent. It’s curious to see her almost suspicious on your behalf. Whether or not you usher her back to her father’s side will depend on her answer to Dale’s question. "You're too tall," she proclaims as if that contained all her criticism distilled to one comment.

You blink in surprise, but Dale laughs. "My apologies, but I've no way to change that."

"I suppose," Rose replies grudgingly. She bites her lip, looking between you two, a question clearly on her mind. "Can I visit? Even after you're married?"

"Of course," you say with a frown. While you’d not been allowed to travel out of your home fief when you were young, most noble children often visited cousins and extended family members before formal schooling at an institution. "Why wouldn't you be able to?"

Rose shrugs. "Father said that things change after a person marries. That you might be too busy."

"I would never be too busy for you.”

"He said, it would be his," she points at Dale, "house and so he might not want me to."

You suppose you could see your brother's point. He likely said that more out of an abundance of caution and knowing couples prefer some time to themselves to settle in. Perhaps he was even trying to give you an excuse ahead of time if you’d didn’t want a nosy niece underfoot. However, you do not like the implication you would need Dale's permission for your family to visit. You open your mouth to say so, but you're not the one who answers her.

"Nonsense," Dale says, clearly confused. "With our marriage, it will be our house. Any family of my spouse would my family as well. You are welcome to visit as you please, though I'd caution you to send word ahead of time. We'll be touring the fief in our first year."

"Truly?" Rose asks before grinning, not waiting for confirmation. "Thank you!"

"You also need your parent's permission," you add, knowing exactly how her mind works. Predictably, she pouts. "But we would love to have you. Tell me what you have been up to since we last spoke. You never answered my last letter."

"I'm sorry," Rose says dutifully, but she isn’t truly bothered. "I always forget. It's half finished. Everything was boring until Aunt Callalily came. Come on, you have to meet Sara and Kanti.”

“I’ve already met them,” you point out, but take her hand anyway. “So have you.”

“But they were just babies then,” Rose says dismissively as she pulls you over. “Now they’re almost real people.” Dale laughs and Rose grins, always pleased to entertain an adult. Your heart warms at Dale’s indulgence of her, grateful you do not have the original Dale who likely would have dismissed her outright.

You follow her over to your siblings and find that your other sister and her husband are here as well. Introductions fly around as you all fulfill etiquette’s demands. Your nieces and nephews end up sneaking away before you can see how much any of them have grown. Dale ends up talking to your father and brother, but you are able to talk with your sisters.

“Douglas is coming?” you ask, unable to keep your surprise to yourself when you learn from them that your remaining brother is going to be at the wedding too. All four of your siblings will come, you’d never thought… “I thought he was stationed on the northern border for the rest of the year. Fort Rhimer.”

“He is,” your oldest sister, Callalily, confirms. “However, knights are allowed leave,” she says, as if your surprise is what’s odd. “A family wedding is more than an acceptable reason to take such. We are not at war. He is more than capable of leaving his command for a fortnight or two.”

“Of course, I simply did not think…” You just didn’t think he’d bother to come. Douglas is the sibling you saw and knew the least, with him having been off in the capital for training or on active military duty for most of your life. Perhaps he wants to take leave for other reasons and saw this as a convenient opportunity. Or maybe he wants to see the rest of the family. “Well, I’ll be happy to see him.”

“Yes, it's been too long,” Marigold, the sister closest in age to you, but who is closer still to Douglas. She’s nearly a decade older than you are. “Douglas is too focused on his career and would do well to take more time to enjoy the rest of what life has to offer. And to see us, of course. He neglects his family.”

“Hush,” Callalily rolls her eyes and makes a show of looking around. “Don’t let Mother hear you or you’ll be treated to another lecture on the importance of a noble’s getting married, even though we are already married.”

Your mother is still off somewhere else, but everyone’s making their way down from the dais to join the gala proper. You’re still a little nervous with your family around, that you’re not sure how much you’ll actually end up eating, but you’d like to get away from even this minor stage. Callalily must agree as she leads the two of you over to one of the buffet tables. “No doubt she shall be searching this gala for eligible matches the entire night, especially since he is the only one of her children left who is not even betrothed.”

Marigold laughs. You used to be envious of how effortless she makes everything look. If you tried to wear that bright red scarf with its foreign patterns, even if it matched your dress like hers does, you’d only look out of place and awkward. She has the ability to keep abreast with current trends and styles and play them to her advantage. She has an eye for fashion even if, as a sculptor, she primarily uses no color in her work.

Even Callalily who should look out of place in her Khinat dress manages to only look elegant and interesting as a diplomat should. Your plainer clothes, especially growing up as you only had a few nice dresses given your shyness and often inability to attend more important events, had always left you feeling more than a step behind your worldly older sisters. “Oh, I wonder if he’s realized that now, given the wedding we’re attending.” Marigold leans over and gives you a hug around the shoulders. “Our youngest, all grown up. He’s going to regret coming, isn’t he?”

You’ve often felt cut off from your siblings, being so much younger than them. Now, this gala is for you, for your wedding that you’re helping to host in your lovely Northridge dress. It's fun to be included in the joke with your sisters. To feel like you’re within reach of the same plateau of ‘proper adult’ as they are. “Perhaps.” You smile back at her. “Maybe Mother will succeed in her matchmaking.”

Marigold stifles a snort. “Oh, yes, and then perhaps he will fly back to the fort on the wings of such a mystical love.”

Callalily swats gently at Marigold’s arm, but she’s smiling. “We didn’t think he’d holdout long enough to be the last one, did we?” She looks over the hors d'oeuvres laid out as she decides what to eat. You find you’re not ready to have anything after all. “Who knows what will happen?”

She turns to you and you’re surprised to have her attention at such an event. Callalily always tries to have at least one longer conversation with you when she visits, but she doesn’t often seek out your opinion in a group, or even at dinner. “How are you faring?” Her eyebrows tilt down in sympathy, a common look she’s given you—one that always makes you feel like a child, though you know she means nothing by it. “I hope these preparations have not been too much for you. Or did the Northridges’ take care of everything?” She doesn’t give you a chance to answer, before she looks at Marigold with a smirk. “I must admit, it would be novel to think of a wedding for one of us that Mother did not try to manage all of.”

You know she sees you as someone still ill, someone who tires easily and is overwhelmed easily, but you thought she could see you’ve moved past that. She’s the one who encouraged you to pick your own school, your own courses of study. Did she think you were still so moldable to even the family you were marrying? Or did she think the Northridges were overbearing? You’d not thought she had any particular thoughts or opinions on them.

“Your fault for getting married first,” Marigold says to Callalily. “My fault for getting married to someone without their own mother to fight her off. And Asher’s fault for being the heir. Only you have been so lucky.” She winks at you. You wonder if that’s truly the reason because you remember the arguments and control Mother had sought to exercise over your other siblings' weddings. It was why you’d been almost expecting her to come with you to Northridge, even though it was uncommon for a parent of a betrothed to come with them to stay with the family they are marrying into. Mother hadn’t pushed to be involved, besides ensuring you had all you needed, shawls aside.

You think she’s more committed to acting as though everything is typical, to show too much of her traditional concern over your health. She’d been extremely concerned regarding your health reports and how they might taint a prospective marriage. You hope she’ll continue to act as if she isn’t worried about your health or a relapse, but you don’t know how you feel about it once more resulting in treatment other than what your siblings received. Even if you don’t want her to interfere with the wedding.

“That luck is likely to be running out,” Callalily cautions. “Now that she’s arrived.”

“Everything’s already settled,” you protest, hoping you weren’t wrong about her overstepping to manage what you and the Northridges have well in hand.

“Not sure that will stop Mother if she sees something she feels is missing,” Marigold teases. “You know how she is when she sees a problem she feels she knows how to solve.”

She’s not wrong and you anxiously peer around to see if Mother’s returned. Callalily’s hand on your arm brings your focus back to her. “We shall keep her busy as best as we are able,” Callalily reassures you. “I’m certain you’ve enough to worry about without Mother’s particular style of assistance. She truly hasn’t said anything about the wedding preparations. I believe she is merely delighted to see you wed. I’m not sure she’d thought…” Callalily trails off but you hear the words regardless. Thought to see you marry at all. All your family had thought you’d not live past thirteen, the age at which your aunt had died. “Well, the wedding itself is not her worry. Discussing your health, in private, is likely on the table.”

Mother was the one who managed your doctors and treatments while you grew up. She would go through different phases of how involved she was and what she left to the individual doctors, but she always pushed for new techniques and options to be tested. She’ll likely have some new compound she wants you to take to ensure your condition doesn’t resurge or simply to enhance overall health. “Of course,” you acknowledge ruefully. “I only hope I do not have to talk her out of substances that are actually poisonous once more.” Half of what you’re learned about medicine was defensive, not mere curiosity on your part, due to Mother’s willingness to experiment.

“To her credit,” Marigold says with a grin, obviously remembering the incident a few years ago since she had been visiting them at the time. “I knew a number of people who were using belladonna as well. They were all very convinced of the therapeutic benefits if one did not use too much.”

“Your people—artists—are always so ready to believe beauty is pain,” Callalily says with a smirk before helping herself to a stuffed mushroom.

“Oh yes, only us artists could be so vain.” Marigold rolls her eyes. “And how long did it take your maid to do your hair up in this manner?”

You eye the beautiful and elaborate braids Callalily has her hair in, she even has a few strands of jewelry in that make her chestnut hair look particularly lustrous. It must have taken hours. “The usual amount,” Callalily says with a sniff.

“Of course,” Marigold replies. She never takes anything too seriously nor does she hold Callalily’s, or anyone’s, teases or criticisms against her. “I did want to compliment the work. It truly is lovely.”

“Thank you.” Callalily smiles and then reaches out to touch one of your curls. “Yours are sweet, I hope you do not follow Marigold’s example.” You feel younger in your basic hairstyle, but at least you know you won’t need to respond.

“My hair is fine,” Marigold says quickly enough. “Covered, as propriety dictates.”

“It’s still down,” Callalily tuts.

“And no one has fainted from the sight, since it is covered,” Marigold reiterates. “I have to have my hair pinned up so precisely and tightly to my head when I work that I cannot abide having it done so when it can be helped.”

“Why not cover it while you work?”

“It does not work as well,” Marigold insists around a piece of bread and some cheese, a hand to cover her mouth while she rebuts Callalily. “All my scarves get covered in clay and I overheat.”

“It’s hot enough in this ballroom.” Callalily reaches for a fresh glass to drink, passing one to Marigold and to you.

Your pleasure at the lack of hesitation in her inclusion of you is overshadowed by the reminder of your mother’s intentions. “Mother hasn’t returned with a shawl for me, has she?”

“No…” Marigold frowns, looking baffled. “Why would she? It’s a week into Hectary with nary a sea breeze to cool us.”

“You know how she feels about our sibling and chills,” Callalily reminds Marigold before looking back at you. “No, I believe she’s returned and is speaking with the Governor. If she had found a shawl to foist upon you, she would have done so before joining that conversation.”

“Thank the light,” you mutter and take a sip of the wine she’d handed you.

“You poor thing,” Marigold coos. “She’d have stifled you. I’ve no notion how you put up with her fussing.”

“Yes, truly. I managed to have her stop by the time I left for schooling.” Callalily doesn’t mean to sound scolding but you can’t help feeling like she is. “You should assert yourself more clearly with her.”

Callalily’s never understood how differently Mother treats you than she does your other siblings. She doesn’t see that you could behave identically to how Callalily did when she was your age and not be permitted the same leeway. “She does not listen.”

“You must make her,” Callalily says, as if it is that easy. As if you have not tried. “She’ll never see you as grown if you do not.” You know that too, but you can’t seem to get through to Mother. You’re not sure you ever will be able to. And you’re tired of attempting so.

“Well, it will cease to be much of a problem going forward, will it not?” Marigold asks. “Fussing during Solstices is easy enough to manage.”

You miss what Callalily says in reply because your eyes catch sight of an unnatural shadow. A long tail cuts across the ballroom floor and you follow it back to where Dale stands with Grandfather and your brother. You reverse, looking to see where it leads and spot the end on the buffet. It’s reared up onto the table and you swear there is a mouth on the end of it, trying to steal some cheese.

Your heart pounds at this blatant display. Someone’s going to notice sooner rather than later. How can you get Dale to be more subtle? He’s going to worry you to an early grave, illness be damned.

You need a reason to squash it or cover it up. Your eyes land on a familiar figure at a nearby table and you blurt out without thinking, “Lady Breighton!” She somehow hears you over the noisy crowd and looks over at you. In too deep, you link your arm with Marigold’s. Your sisters look startled and confused by your outburst, but you simply smile at them. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to Dale’s aunt. She’s an avid admirer of sculpture, Marigold, and I’m certain she would enjoy conversing with you.”

“Oh, of course, ” Marigold still seems surprised that you’re the one trying to bring more people into a conversation, but she can’t resist talking about her art. She grins. “I’d be happy to.”

You head over to Breighton, keeping Marigold on one side and the buffet on the other side. Callalily slides her arm into Marigold’s other arm, which helpfully puts both of them further from the more obvious end of Dale’s most recent slip up. You can see that everyone seems to step over the shadow without thought, as if they instinctively know they shouldn’t touch it.

You deliberately step on the shadow tendril while simultaneously disposing of your napkin directly on top of the little mouth at the end. The texture of the shadow under your foot is somewhere between what you imagine a snake would feel like and pudding. It is profoundly unsettling. You're grateful you haven’t had anything to eat after all. You don’t look at Dale, but you’re relieved you don’t hear any sort of sound to signify what you did hurt him over much.

You concentrate so much on not looking at Dale that you introduce your sisters to Breighton without much thought, relying on the etiquette lessons drilled into you to get through it. Breighton does appear to pay greater attention when you mention Marigold’s passion, so you’re glad you didn’t guess wrong about her interest.

Only once the conversation has started, do you dare chance a look back over to Dale. He’s standing just where he had been, but there’s no longer a shadow connected to the buffet. He looks perfectly ordinary once more and you breathe a sigh of relief. Taking a grateful drink of the water glass Breighton has handed you, you can’t help but hope this gala is done sooner rather than later.

[Part Twenty-Seven]

#my writing #story: nothing's wrong with dale #nothing's wrong with dale #dale #story part #terato #exophilia #monster romance #monster bf #reader #male monster #osha compliant #slow burn #arranged marriage #migraines kept me unable to write when i usually did so this chapters late #but i had some additional time off work so its all good #also this chapter was challenging to write #but hopefully you like it!#let me know what you think!

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lovelybrooke · 1 year

Text

Platonic Yandere Phantom Thieves x reader

A/n: So, I'm taking a break from The Last of Us to write some P5 headcanons. After this, I'm going to start on Regret pt.2 and then some headcanons for The Last of Us, so expect that this weekend. Please Like, Comment, and Relog if you enjoy. (Also warning, I am very much American and don't know how the Japanese schooling system works, so please take that into account before reading)

The Phantom Thieves are as thick as, well, thieves. They are pretty protective of each other, mostly due to all they been through together. They were all once loners and outcasts, you know? That's a big reason why you become friends with them.

You transferred to Shujin in your second year. You were new to the area, and you weren't in a rush to make friends. You planned on just keeping to yourself until you graduated. Unlike a lot of your peers, you were not that worried about the "delinquent" school who was on parole. You've seen him around hanging with some other students. He didn't look that bad. His friend group was pretty diverse though, a true delinquent and a model, both of which were in your year.

A part of you was jealous, this guy who was branded as a criminal was able to make more friends than you. You shouldn't be upset at him for something that he can't control, but when you're eating lunch alone and catch them out of the corner of your eye, or when your when you're at the shopping district and you hear them loudly talking in the store you're in, even over your music, you can't help but get agitated. It's like they're following you, flaunting their friendship in your face.

You were doing your thing for about a few months before the supposed delinquent introduced himself to you. Akira Kurusu was his name, and he asked if you wanted to have lunch with him and his friends. You were kind of surprised, since he's literally never talked to you before this, nor has any of his friends. You were reluctant to except his invitation, thinking it was some sort of a prank, but you took the risk, since you were very desperate for friends.

Lunch was nice, and you learned a lot about his friend group. Akira was very much, not a delinquent, and shared some food with you. The real delinquent, Ryuji Sakamoto, was also really nice. He was pretty talkative and argued a lot with one of Akira's other friend Ann Takamaki. She was girly and sweet, which made it impossible to dislike her. Finally, there was Makoto Niijima, a third year, and the student council president. She was definitely the most intimidating, but of course, she was very nice, even offering to help you study if you ever needed.

You really enjoyed your time together with them. It was surprising that such a seemingly tightknit group was willing to let you hang out with them. At first, you thought this was a onetime thing, them just taking pity on a new student, but then the next day they acted confused when you went to your regular spot for lunch, Ann having to drag you over to their table. Then a week past and you had each of their phone numbers, each of them texting you nonstop. After a month went by, you met their other friend, Yusuke Kitagawa, who was definitely strange, but still very friendly and likeable.

You even got to meet Akira's strange cat Morgana, who definitely seemed more human than cat. You've seen him around school, appearing in some of the areas you would hang around by yourself. You assumed it was a coincidence, that they Akira took him in because he was a stray, but you couldn't help but feel as though he was watching you.

It was a strange friendship, but you were thankful, nonetheless. However, they were times when they would disappear for a while, with very little words for why. When you'd ask, they would play it off as being busy. You knew it was a lie, all of them were busy? At all the same time? Not very likely.

A part of you thought the problem was you. They all conveniently stopped hanging out with you around the time they became friends with another third year, Haru Okumura, a semi-celebrity and a young prodigy Futaba Sakura. They were obviously bored of you; you didn't offer them anything. You weren't extremely smart or attractive, nor were you particularly talented at anything. You were nothing compared to them, of course they wouldn't want to be around you anymore.

You stopped hanging out with them, and slowly stopped responding to their messages, even when your phone blew up with messages asking about where you were. You didn't show up to school as often, your grades dropping. You didn't care about your grades anymore, to busy wallowing in yourself pity to even notice your friends attempts on reaching out to you.

The Phantom Thieves were worried. Everything was going fine until you randomly stopped talking with them. You didn't respond to their messages, nor did you show up to school, so how were they supposed to help you? Ryuji immediately accused you of having a palace, and it took both Akira and Makoto both to calm him down enough so that they could come up with a plan to help you. Haru suggested that they just corner you at your home, which they of course new the location of. They all agreed that that would be the best solution.

When they arrived at you home, they let themselves in, knowing that your family wouldn't be home around this time. Ryuji immediately finds your room and starts demanding that you talk to them, even when you tell him to go away. After many minutes of pleading from the Phantom Thieves, you finally told them how you were feeling.

They all were conflicted. They didn't know whether or not to just straight up tell you what's been going on, since there's a large chance you wouldn't believe them. However, the took the chance and told you everything, claiming they were The Phantom Thieves. At first you though it was a joke, that they came up with an outlandish excuse for ignoring you, but you remembered the calling cards littered around the school during the incident with Mr. Kamoshida. You remember feeling eyes on you when you picked up one of them and read it out to yourself. Suddenly, everything made a little bit more sense.

It was strange, learning that your friends were a secrete group of vagilities, but you were happy to have them back. Though, you couldn't help but feel as though they were more possessive. Suddenly, one of them was walking you to and from school. You were always with one of them when they weren't busy, and they were checking up on you obsessively when they couldn't be with you. It became a little suffocating, but you assumed that's just what friends do, right?

A/n: Hope you enjoyed. Feel free to request persona 5 stuff from now on.

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obeythebutler · 2 years

Note

anyways before i forget.

coward!MC lesson 16 reactions,,, bro the angst potential there is so real idk even where to start.

i legit imagine,,, you're in such a state of abject terror and shock, like, you literally died, not a game, no joking, it HAPPENED, and no one saved you, belphie didn't stop, there was absolutely nothing you could do

first lucifer rejecting you, and then this. it'd be a massive setback to any kind of bravery you'd been able to muster because seriously, post lesson 16, literally fuck that. you could DIE, this is REAL, and you were stupid for ever forgetting that.

hhh just. satan, lucifer, mammon,, whichever other boys (i love me some dia so maybe him and barb, who probably deserves to feel at least a little responsible), knowing how much you suffer. trying to help.

HNNNNNG YOU WROTE MC'S TERROR SO FUCKING GOOD AND NOW THE ANGST POWER LIVES IN MY BRAIIIIN

strongly worded and more detailed letters to follow, love, elsey,

Coward! MC here

Hellfire tea sits cold in your lap.

The flames in the fireplace burn with vigour, bright and burning as expected of something like Hell. Mammon once threw a broken chair in there, to hide it from the eldest, and it reduced to ashes in front of your eyes within seconds.

The fire devour anything it gets.

Like that black tapir roasted to perfection by Satan. Babylon curry stirred by Asmodeus, with two pink hairclips that he put in place before beginning with the cooking and as he chirped "so that my hair won't be affected by the heat !," and the cheerful chatter in the air. Plans made and some promptly turned away (exploring all Devildom restaurants in a day might just lead to bankruptcy) and smiles which were not seen before.

And Quetzalcoatl brain soup stirred by a tall demon.

For his twin, of course.

Bony fingers that gripped the ladle and lips curling into a smile at the taste. Those same fingers around your throat. Tightening, not letting you breathe even when you begged. Black spots in your vision and a throbbing pain in your chest after having been thrown down the stairs. You must have broken a bone or two in there, but you're not sure.

You're not even sure why you are alive.

Belphegor laughs, and you freeze in your seat, fork with spaghetti twisted around it falling on the table with a plop!

You blame it on clumsy hands. And yet, your heartbeat can be heard by inhumane ears.

You stare at it with detachment, perhaps wondering if the piece of food will jump to life.

"Here," Belphegor says, passing you a plate of sushi. "I thought you would like it, since its from the human world."

You stare but smile, and when his fingers brush against yours you tremble.

"I missed out on a lot, didn't I?" He mentions with gaze half-lidded. "I want to catch up on everything."

You chew on rice and fish but the taste doesn't matter at the moment. The room is gigantic and you already dwarf in comparison. Eyes gaze at you in concern, but you pay no heed.

Did your death even get a mourning?

When Belphegor says your name, you nod and say yes.

Even when you beg yourself to say no and get out, out of the room where he is sitting and eating and you're dining with him and his brothers and you're dining with rejection and death in front of you and oh god you can't say no—

Your fingers dig into your thigh.

"MC, are you alright?" Asmodeus whispers, unable to avoid the way in which your hands tremble when Belphegor is near. You don't hear him, continuing to stare at the half-eaten sushi on your plate. Your heart pounds in your chest, the familiar tendrils of fear clinging to you as the seventhborn draws nearer.

"MC—"

He is barely able to place a hand on your shoulder before you jolt, throwing away your cutlery with a clang. The chair makes a noise that makes everyone else wince, following which you're gone and out of the dining room.

You're gone in a flash, footsteps fading with the door of your room slamming shut.

This is your chance.

Go back in time. Find out what helped Belphegor escape. Come back.

Sounds like a pretty neat plan.

"Thank you, MC." When Lucifer expresses his gratitude for your help, you smile in understanding.

Even after what has happened, you will show everyone that you can be better. That you're not the coward you used to be. After having faced rejection and cried outside the firstborn's door, writing on paper that tore due to how much you erased your work and after Lucifer's demon form towering over you. Teeth bared in a display of aggression, and the sickening thud that was made when Beel collided with the furniture.

And after all that has happened, things are finally looking up for you. You've fallen down many times, but you're learning to brush yourself and get up, persevere, and not shrink when faced with the slightest threat.

This is your chance, you affirm, clenching your fist. You can finally prove that you're worthy of respect, a value that you want to be admired for.

"Remember, you must not tell anyone that you are from the future, as well as me. That might end up warping history. Return after finding out the reason for Belphegor's escape."

The butler instructs, finger under his chin. You nod, flashing the demon a smile to let him know that you are prepared. Barbatos's warning echoes clear in your head as you approach the door, and open it, revealing a purple mist.

When you look back at the demon, his expression reveals nothing. Bidding him bye, you step forward.

You can't wait to return.

As soon as the haze clears, you find yourself in the hallway of the House of Lamentation. You pace around, trying to ascertain as to during which event you are here.

The sound of bickering catches your ears, and you step forward into Mammon's room.

"When you're silencing yourself, ensure to quieten that stomach too!"

"Hey! Don't ask me to do the impossible!"

"Lucifer and MC should have opened up to each other by now."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in Asmo's words. So the whole game with the firstborn was planned...

A smile forms on your face at the realisation, but it drops as soon as you remember that they don't know what will happen. Screaming and shouting. Bristled wings and snarls. Threats on your life. Careful to not make noise, you step forward to listen better.

And the sound of the empty can crushing beneath your feet is enough to attract attention.

Mammon's head whips around. "I didn't know you were in here the whole time!" He says in disbelief, and the others look on. You gulp, having the urge to get out of the room without explaining yourself, but you stop.

"Yeah, I followed Satan around.." You mutter, embarrassed, and the fourthborn frowns.

"See! I told you to be careful" Asmo complains, pointing a finger accusingly at his brother. "Now look what you've done."

The idea to make Lucifer and you talk again has not worked out, and the demon pouts.

Levi furrows his brows."You should see him." He says, and you nod, glad to get out and solve the mission. Back in the hallway, you hear faint voices, and on inspecting closely you discover that they're coming from the top of the stairs.

Where Belphegor is held prisoner.

"The old Lucifer wasn't like this! The old Lucifer didn't care what others thought of him!"

You don't hear a retort.

Perhaps this was one of the many reasons why you fell in love with Lucifer. Brave and confident of himself, willing to sacrifice himself for those who loves.

Something you wouldn't have been able to muster the courage for.

But you're growing. You're making progress, as small that might be. You no longer tolerate lower-level demons stepping up and stealing your lunch or bothering you in class. Grades are improving, and so are your relations in the house.

You don't want it all to shatter.

You don't want to pick yourself up again like that night.

Descending footsteps alert you, and so you hide.

And Belphegor's pleading voice for help is something you are unable to resist.

And so you step forward and open the door.

And so Belphegor embraces you.

And then he transforms.

"What—What the hell are you doing?!" You stammer, fear creeping in your veins at the sudden reveal of his demon form. "Belphegor, what exactly are you planning?"

When his hand curl around your neck, you scream.

He pushes you against the wall of the attic, your head colliding with the stone, further adding to your agony. The demon laughs, and you wonder if this is his genuine smile, finally revealed in a moment of cruelty.

"Don't blame me for tricking you, blame yourself for falling for it," He snarls, teeth too sharp and eyes too bright in the dim light. You struggle to breathe, your clawing and kicking of no use.

"Please," You beg, barely able to rasp out words when he squeezes your neck so tightly you fear he might just wrung it and kill you. "I don't want to—I—please d-don't—"

His smile is cruel.

"It's rather unpleasant, in't it? Being choked like this." Belphegor laughs, the sound throaty and cruel, and you feel your heart breaking further at the betrayal. You thought you were friends. You trusted him. You freed him.

All that courage you had gathered, all gone to waste. Your mission—failed. What you feared during your time in the Devildom is happening, and you can't even do anything to stop it.

You are about to die.

Your vision blurs with tears, and you struggle to breathe in his grasp.

Not this time. Not this. Anything but this. Please don't kill me.

His laugh still rings in your ears as your eyes close.

"Not my breakfast!"

Leviathan protests, unable to do anything but watch as Beel downs the rest of his food, miffed at his ignorance. He slams his hand on the table, and Lucifer frowns.

"Beel and Levi—"

The delicate normalcy in the room has been broken, and now it lies shattered like a thousand glass pieces that will be hard to pick up and will pierce skin.

If not of demons, than of a human.

The demon straightens his posture, realising that his presence has stopped the chatter that he had anticipated. Belphegor gazes around the room, and when he turns to look his brothers in the eye they don't meet his gaze.

"Come on," He drawls, pulling back the chair to sit down, the sound making everyone wince. "Continue."

He grabs his portion of bread and soup, but no one resumes their actions.

Indifferent, the demon takes a bite of the bread.

"So...are you going along with Belphie to school?" Asmo questions, hand resting under his chin.

Besides him, Leviathan announces that he will grab something to eat at the cafeteria, and the fading footsteps create a sound no one wants to hear.

Belphegor takes a sip of the soup. "MC doesn't have to go along if they don't want to." His expression reveals nothing; and your shoulders sag with relief.

You don't go with Belphegor to school that day.

But that doesn't spare you from his presence next to yours in the class.

Neither does the fact that you're sitting next to the demon that killed you once.

Has he brushed aside what happened so easily? And have the others done the same? You ask yourself as the professor demonstrates how to manifest magic circles. And rejection still sits bitter within you.

After that class is over, you have to go shopping for Diavolo's birthday. You're not sure if you'll be able to do that with Belphegor around.

Every step you take will have to be done with caution. Because you, foolish human, had forgotten that you were defenseless, with or without the pacts.

They knew what would happen when you would step into the portal.

Neither did you find someone who loved you.

Neither was your love returned.

The pain of rejection dulls in comparison to death, and even then you find yourself in shambles.

You were, after all, sent to your demise instead. You laugh at the fact, a low chuckle that breaks off into a crack at the end, and it doesn't help that Mammon winces noticing your expression of happiness is a bitter one. Nor is it true.

After running into the residents of Purgatory hall, you find that nothing escapes Simeon's gaze.

When he advices you to serve as a bridge for the brothers, you are tempted to cackle.

The angel quietens when he sees the dark circles under your eyes, and the way your eyes dart around the stairs, waiting for someone to strike. Instead Simeon breathes out, murmuring that you are welcome to come to Purgatory Hall whenever you wish. The angel doesn't know what took place, but he knows you're in turmoil.

"If you want someone to talk to, I'm right here." He departs with those words.

He leads Luke back home.

He doesn't know what to say.

And your vision blurs as they walk away.

Nothing can be said of this moment, nothing is left to say. Its silence silences.

Game night is not a peace-building activity.

Rather, it leads to chaos.

"Wrong decision Mammon! You could have had Ruri work as an idol and instead you've sent her to the casino!"

"She'll make more money and then you'll get more! Stop shoutin at me!"

"This was my videogame—"

The door slams open.

And then it begins.

"So you're telling me that Beel is feelin guilty because he didn't know you were being held..prisoner?"

"What else," Belphegor rolls his eyes, and when his gaze meets yours his expression is unreadable. He settles away from you, swiping a pillow from Levi's lap who gazes around the room, and placing it on his own. Although he's not touching you, his presence is enough to inspire fear. Your nerves stay on edge, body stiffening as you attempt to stay still and not shrivel besides him.

You want to go back to your room.

"Should we go and see Beel?" Mammon mutters in your ear, not wanting to let Belphie hear, but the action has you nearly jolting in your place.

Your eyes are downcast. "S-Sure," You whisper, voice low. "We should see him." You play with your thumb, refusing to meet either brother's gaze. The audio from the game stops playing, and the silence that follows starts to envelope the room in a heavy blanket.

The secondborn frowns.

"Ya alright?" He questions, eyes travelling over your form, inspecting for any injuries you might have been trying to hide or any signs of illness, but when he sees the way your hands tremble and breath runs ragged Mammon bends down.

"Let's go to your room MC, how about that?"

You nod, and let him lead the way.

When the door closes again, it is Levi's turn to gape at Belphegor.

"They're scared of you," He blurts out, unable to bear the silence. "MC doesn't want to be near you."

Belphegor stares at the tank in resignation.

Back in your room, Mammon dims the lights with a simple incantation that he heard Lucifer recite countless times. "Thanks," You say, voice muffled under the blanket. The demon smiles, his eyes looking unusually bright in the dark, but you brush it aside as a demon quirk.

"Anything for ya."

He turns to leave, ready to walk out the door and close it, then walk straight towards the end of the hallway where—

"Mammon?"

His name comes out in a whisper, and he stills.

"Could you stay?"

A smile. "Of course."

"Are you alright?"

Lucifer questions, and you tremble.

"I'm fine," You mumble, unable to meet his gaze. You don't have the courage to even look the demon in the eye, and so you stare at your notebook. "Just doing some assignments," You blurt, picking up a pencil in hopes of making yourself look busy. "We've got a test tomorrow in Hexes and Curses."

The demon eyes you, lips turned downwards and brows furrowed.

The man can see you trembling. The way your eyes flicker nervously over lines of text, or the way you keep fidgeting with the pencil.

You're scared.

And who's fault is it?

Who is responsible for your death?

Who is responsible for locking Belphegor?

Who is responsible for the fall from the Celestial Realm?

Who is responsible for destroying any courage you had gathered?

All these questions are screamed at him, and the war comes to mind. When others had believed in him, and he failed them.

He failed you.

Lucifer knows that it is him, and no other being. All that had happened to you are the consequences of his own actions. That after having finally gathered yourself from the pain of rejection, the pain of dying had finally torn down any remnants of your happiness and peace here.

And...would you even trust him?

The firstborn asks himself this question as he ogles your form; desperately trying to find a way for you or him to leave. Because he can't be trusted, not anymore.

And he can't even believe you when you say that you're fine.

"You should rest," He says, voice raspy. "The past few days have been....."

The demon winces, stopping himself before he goes and says something that will tear the manufactured normalcy you've been desperately trying to present.

You nod in return, muttering out a 'good night,' before gathering your notebook and scurrying out from the room. You can feel eyes burning holes in the back of your head; you can feel Lucifer staring at you, but you don't want to look back.

And as your footsteps retreat, Lucifer replaces the vacant spot you had left, on the chair.

He inspects the wood, eyes gazing over the material before he rests his head on it—too exhausted to do anything else. Too tired to try right now.

He's worsened your agony.

Gloves fingers pick up the pencil lying abandoned, and the firstborn stares at it. Your departure sets something in his chest throbbing with pain, and he knows it is love that he cannot speak about.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

He loves you. But it is an affection he does not have the courage to speak about, for his actions say something else.

Does he even deserve you?

Lucifer's throat tightens, and he refuses to acknowledge it.

His mind drifts back to the time when his brothers were creating a fuss about that Devilgram photo with you and Satan. How you both looked so happy and it was someone else who'd made you smile. How hard you had cried that night when he had rejected you and how scared you were after. How you avoided him after and how you must have cried and how scared you must have been when Belphegor killed you—

A garbled cry spills from his throat.

The sound Lucifer makes is something he's mortified to hear from himself. The man's vision blurs and all he can feel is the agony in his chest. His face is wet. And upon realising that the library isn't soundproof he casts an enchantment, through a tone that cracks in the end.

No one will be able to hear his cries now.

Your spirits have been crushed, and the MC he once knew is gone, replaced by one that had their spirits defeated.

Lucifer is witness to that. From watching you run away, leaving behind Beel and Luke in the underground tomb to standing in front of Diavolo, going back in time....and being rejected and yet bouncing back...there's no greater testimony than it.

He calls you to his room the night before you're supposed to leave for the human world.

You walk into the room to see Lucifer by the fireplace. The flames frame his features in a way which takes away your breath. It is in this moment that you're reminded that you are in a room with the Avatar of Pride and fallen angel, Lucifer himself.

You suppose there's no better time to be wary than now.

In hindsight, you should have never trusted them from the start. For who knew smiles and laughter would get you killed? So when the demon asks for you, it takes fifteen minutes itself to muster up courage to move.

And even more to stand in front of him.

"Come, sit down," He murmurs, gesturing to an empty couch across him. "Please make yourself comfortable."

The man attempts to make yourself feel relaxed in his presence, but you can't help the racing of your heart when you sit down on the plush couch, darting your gaze around the room, looking everywhere but in his eyes. When you finally do, look in his direction, you find that Lucifer is not scrutinizing you.

Rather, he's focused on the fire.

"I chose you as the exchange student for this programe." Lucifer declares, voice somber.

You fidget in your seat, not knowing what to make of his words. When he looks at you, your guts tell you to flee, yet you remain like a deer frozen in headlights.

"There were times when I regretted my choice."

Your heart sinks. You know Lucifer doesn't have the best opinion of you, you are pretty sure you are nothing more than a coward in his eyes, just a human to take care of for a year. A responsibility.

"But I made the right choice in choosing you." Lucifer smiles, and it is an expression full of warmth, unlike anything you've seen before.

"H-How?" You question, utterly bewildered and confused. "I thought you—that you—"

"That you had no value in my eyes." The man cuts you off, and you flinch. "That I had no respect for you." Your hands tremble, not knowing where this conversation is leading to. The door is right in front of you, maybe if you just excused yourself—

Yet another part wants to stay. Remain and listen to the demon. Lucifer's voice is soft. "I was wrong about you," He admits, smiling softly. "For you are someone to be respected."

"Ever since the day I saw you in the Devildom, I assumed that you would be another hassle, another responsibility to take care of. And observing you during your first week here, didn't exactly put a decent impression of you in my mind."

You gape at the man, waiting for him to continue.

"You ran away from me in the underground tomb, and yet you went up the stairs that I stated were forbidden. I have seen you struggling with coursework, thrust into a new environment which you did not consent to have been put into..." He places a hand under his chin. "In hindsight, I should have been more understanding of your situation. I was the one to bring you here and you even got killed because of my mistake.."

"Don't say that."

He sighs, his shoulders sagging, and you've never seen Lucifer look more defeated.

"I have seen you grow. I assumed you were weak, a coward, and yet you grew and overcame your fears. You have helped me and my family immensely, and all I did was get in your way." He says, and your heart aches. "I've been cruel."

A sob chokes your throat.

"I am proud of you for what you have done and achieved, and I can never make enough reparations for what you had to suffer. But I swear I will prevent anything like this from occurring again." He gets up, suddenly, startling you. "And I offer you my pact as promise and as gratitude."

And as you watch, the Morningstar gets on his knees in front of you.

"Control over me as your demon, and you my Master," He mumbles. "Will you allow me the honour of making a pact with you?"

When Lucifer gazes at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes, you have to blink back tears.

"Y-Yes."

The firstborn bows his head. "You will never have to fear me again." He swears. "And I will give you a reason to believe." And with that, you feel infernal magic flowing through your veins. A burst of energy so intense that it raises your heartbeat and makes you close your eyes momentarily.

When you open them again, you feel powerful.

For you have command over the Morningstar himself.

"Thank you," You whisper, placing your hand atop his own.

Satan has seen the way you carry yourselves now at RAD, an invisible presence amongst the crowd of chattering demons. Withdrawn and downcast. Despite the pacts, you were murdered.

He's seen you fall and rise, unwavering determination as you gathered courage and spoke up for yourself. Improved yourself and went against Diavolo, the literal Prince who few dared to oppose. You went back in time for all of them, and what did that get you?

Death.

But now you can barely muster any courage to even look him in the eye. Lucifer and Belphegor have made their pacts with you too in penance and forgiveness, but that is not enough to help the trauma inflicted upon you.

Satan doesn't know what to say now, seeing your downcast gaze and the way you tremble when Belphegor is near. He's seen you rise and fall, and seeing you destroyed makes Satan realise that he and his brother are all responsible for what happened to you. He loves you too; for seeing you strive to improve and overcome the fear that is justifiably humane, and observing you grow reminds Satan of himself.

But you've fallen down and been killed.

Therapy, he concludes one week before you're supposed to leave. It is perhaps the best option for you.

And all that on Diavolo's dime.

Lucifer and Satan had worked it out all together, and the Prince had readily agreed. He knew what would happen, and yet he allowed it.

One life in exchange for peace and order.

It sounds simple, but when you realise the weight it carries you can't bring yourself to do it. The man is a Prince, and with that title comes responsibilities and power more than anyone could fathom.

But did it give him the right to put you in a completely different realm and place an unwanted burden on your shoulders?

He muses, late at night when the moon is at its brightest. When he can't sleep, and the dark circles in the morning will surely concern Barbatos who won't hold back on a lecture.

But some questions won't stop bothering him.

Do you hate him?

Would you have hated him?

For what he's done to you?

Was he making the right choices?

Was he trying enough?

But he's still learning, still observing, still growing. He never lies.

And Diavolo doesn't ever want such a circumstance to occur. When he felt infernal magic radiating from you, so intense and of a magnitude that only the firstborn could muster, the Prince knew what had happened.

Pacts with the seven avatars.

Command over them.

Could....would you have forged one with him, if possible? Would you want to? He wants to ask, and yet Diavolo knows he can't make one even if you were willing.

Not yet.

But he'll work towards ensuring a world where he can.

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dlartistanon · 4 months

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I want to share some interesting discussion about Arturia (and Executor by extension), including some discussion about neurodivergency--a lot of this informs their characters and actions and shines better light on how it can reflect real life.

Also, here's her prequel comic which gives more context

The outcomes of her actions are not often good, but she's definitely not supposed to be evil/malicious/sadistic. She is ideologically driven and, because of her morality axis being different from most, genuinely believes what she's doing is good/correct. She has reason for what she does, such as being opposed to Laterano's limited empathy and discrimination, and what happened in her childhood.

It can be read as a commentary on how the vast majority would rather remain sheep to survive, then be true and (possibly) die.

Her motivation can be summed up as: she wants people to stop repressing themselves. Which theoretically sounds good on paper, but obviously impractical in practice. Sometimes honesty isn't the best policy.

Kriede's fate, his death, was out of his own real volition. What resulted in him wanting to save Ebenholz.

It's unconfirmed, but she may be a victim to her own Arts. She has no inhibitions about removing other people's inhibitions. Or she gaslights herself/disassociates when it comes to her mother's death. She was probably traumatized, but underreacted. To her, Mom dying and using her Arts on her mom are two separate things that have no causation.

She does not regret using her Arts on her mother. She does regret being unable to have helped her mother go further to achieve her dream before she died. Arturia considers it her own failure that Mom died before she reached self-actualization. At the core of it all, Arturia wants to see more people be like her mother, willing to act on what they truly want.

People's despair are all worthy of being addressed and felt and released. That's extremely relevant to her worldview. It's what separates humans from animals acting on instinct. Arturia doesn't care for the Seaborn and thinks they are beneath notice. They are Nothing to her. You can be Good or Evil, but you must be human. Have human desires, because animalistic desire is boring. Human irrationality is what makes them beautiful to her.

People who say that Arturia caused everything to happen in Hortus de Escapismo ignore the fact that the overall situation had been deteriorating long before she set foot there. If anything, she may have just sped up the process of things that were going to happen anyway. Which is not the same as causing it. Looking at it from the perspective of the people living at the monastery, it's reasonable that there would be depressing thoughts floating around everywhere. But the Abbot tells Arturia that her music soothes the pain.

Laterano's response to the situation did nothing to alleviate the actual problem, the material conditions (ie no food). If Arturia's abilities worked the way some people think they do, everyone at the monastery would've been dead in a week or less.

If you're debating jumping off a cliff, then she isn't going to make you jump, nor will she influence you to jump. If someone is worried about Arturia's Arts affecting them, causing them to do bad things they otherwise wouldn't have, because of intrusive thoughts, then they shouldn't even be concerned. Because Arturia is not interested in that. Acting on intrusive thoughts is not what she looks for. It's more akin to helping someone dive deep into their subconscious to face the thing(s) they refuse to face. Some people choose to take this back up with them to the surface. People who contemplate doing bad things for brief moments normally don't have those kinds of thoughts sitting deep within their psyche to drag up.

Arturia obviously needs therapy, but the most important thing to her is whether you have the conviction to act on your desires. Let go and embrace how you truly feel. The extremities of pain and despair (and perhaps even happiness) are among what she values. A very complicated individual.

#dltext #arturia giallo #at worst she's an irresponsible driving instructor and would certainly not be licensed #not the most upstanding person since people have died; but she means well :)#after all; what's so bad about people realizing their potential?#(rhetorical question)#there's a difference between removing restraints/indecision for someone to properly make a choice #and being the person making the choice #someone compared her arts to anti-depression medication; while they don't cause sui/cide #they make your brain functional enough to go through with it; if you really want to #but to write off meds entirely bc of an unfortunate side effect is unreasonable #arknights

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 7 months

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(P4/GFL/GI/H:SR) Naoto, AN-94, Rosaria, and Stelle on a burger date

Admittedly, Naoto was not used to eating these kinds of food.

She travelled quite often and if she had time she could maybe indulge in a food to treat herself, let alone have lunch with her S/O.

But she had found herself in Tokyo with S/O and decided to try something different.

(Naoto) "Big Bang Burger?"

(S/O) "Oh yeah, that's quite popular nowadays. Did they ever have one in Inaba?"

(Naoto) "To my knowledge, no. I am always willing to try something once."

The two walked into the fast food restaurant and saw a poster on the wall.

(Naoto) "The...Big Bang Burger challenge?"

A female employee greeted them and explained how the challenge worked. Naoto's eyes almost bulged out her head.

(Naoto) "P-People eat something that huge?! And I thought the Beef Bowl Challenge was intimidating."

(S/O) "Did you wanna try it?"

(Naoto) "Er, well...I think I'd prefer to start off small before attempting something of that caliber."

Watching one of the employees bring two of them out, they brought it to a table who had two blonde students in a booth.

(Blonde haired boy) "F-For real?! How the hell are we supposed to finish that in thirty friggin' minutes?!"

(Blonde haired girl) "Oh god, why did I let you convince me to do this?"

Naoto and S/O ordered themselves a more fitting meal, and Naoto felt sick even looking at the two students attempt to finish it. Her burger was barely a quarter of the size and just looking at it, she felt like she had gained thousands of calories.

S/O chuckled as they leaned next to her.

(S/O) "Lunch and a show! You sure you don't wanna give it a try?"

(Naoto) "Now that I'm looking at it in person, absolutely not."

(AN-94) "Oh, burgers are in the mess hall today? I have not had many opportunities to try them."

Truthfully, 94 had no preference on food, nor did she know any nuances that went into cooking. It was just something that never became relevant.

But she was wanting to try new things, especially if it made S/O happy.

She was quite perplexed looking at the burger, examining it like she would a new weapon.

When she bites into it, her eyes slightly widen at the variety of textures. She makes sure to take extra note of what S/O's preferences are, in the event she is ever tasked with retrieving a meal for them.

(AN-94) "Interesting...I can see why humans would like this sort of thing."

Since it's not required for her to eat, she keeps this food more as a reward after a mission than anything.

(Rosaria) "Interesting dish. These much calories are probably sinful for those on diet."

Rosaria quite likes how the meat inside the burger tastes.

If she can add some alcohol to the burger, then she's even more for it.

She didn't cook quite often, but it let her play around with different combinations to see what her and S/O enjoyed.

Though that being said, she didn't really understand the whole concept of a 'Burger Date'.

Was it really a whole new date if they just ate something a bit more exotic than usual?

Regardless, she makes sure not to eat them too often. She's not exactly watching her weight or anything, but too much of it would probably kill her.

...Now she had an idea.

Stelle enjoys food of all varieties but there is one thing that is her guilty pleasure. Junk food.

Depending on how one cooked a burger, it could be classified as just a normal meal, but Stelle was never one to sugarcoat things.

It was an indulgence food, and she loved it.

Of course considering her position as a Trailblazer, she probably shouldn't gorge herself, lest she feel sluggish during an expedition.

But that does not stop her from eating them with S/O whenever they ask.

In fact, all they have to do is give her the excuse. Homemade or takeout, it doesn't matter. She wants it.

Her stoic expression softens a little whenever she's eating with her S/O, talking about whatever really comes to mind.

That being said, she is quite picky where she gets the burgers from. If they give her or S/O a topping she didn't ask for even once, she's never coming back.

She wants to enjoy her food damn it, she doesn't want to fight gross ass toppings, on top of everything else in this galaxy that wants her dead.

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 10 months

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Kenji Miyazawa (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Kenji Miyazawa x GN!Reader

Warning: Platonic Yandere. OOC. English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

🐄 When he realized, that his life wasn't real, Kenji hurries to the ADA office. He was confused and scared. Scared for his friends.

🐄 Kenji is a simple, cheerful and easygoing boy. And he loves his friends. Right now he must make sure they are safe.

🐄 Kenji finds his friends in the ADA office. No one knows what was happening.

🐄 Despite been scared, despite understanding, that his village and parents doesn't exist anymore, Kenji focused on helping his friends. He still has superhuman strength, it will come in handy.

🐄 Kenji helped to move Katai's belongings to ADA building. He helped with cleaning up the storage on the fifth floor. He helped with arranging sleeping places on third and fifth floor.

🐄 Kenji helped with bringing food supplies to the agency.

🐄 Kenji tried his best to help his friends.

🐄 And then, one day, he felt an entity's gaze on him.

____________________________________

Kenji wasn't angry at the entity. He believes, that if it was malicious, it would already attack them. But it was simply watching. Kenji thought, that, maybe, the entity was a little ghost that were lost and got curious, so they decide to stick around.

Then Atsushi was asking if they feel entity's presence. Before Kenji can answer, Kunikida and President Fukuzawa answer before him. While Kunikida's answer was short, President Fukuzawa also noticed, that the entity feel like something from out of this world. Later, Katai adds to this, that it feels like entity were looking at them behind the screen.

Kenji still thought, that you were harmless. He believes that you have nothing to do with this bizarre situation.

And then time resets.

And Kenji, once again, in the warehouse, where Dazai proclaim he wants to make Atsushi a part of ADA. Both Dazai and Atsushi looked peaceful.

__________________________________

When they start feeling your presence

🐄 Kenji was a little bit taken aback by time reset. But, it seems, his friends start feeling better. Atsushi was calm again, Dazai looked happier, Tanizaki siblings looked better.

🐄 Kenji still feel your presence. But still, he wasn't scared of you.

🐄 They don't have a proof that empty streets of Yokohama and current madness is your fault.

🐄 During Black Lizards' attack on ADA office, Kenji heard the voice.

"Kenji [||||||||] strong. He looked [|||||||||||||||] ray of sunshine"

🐄 After your words, Kenji feels like he was, once again, in his village on a warm and sunny day.

🐄 Kenji smiles. He knew that you are a good entity.

🐄 Soon Kunikida looks as confident as usual. He was talking about the entity with warmth in his voice.

🐄 Then Ranpo finished his investigation. And Yosano stop been always on edge.

"I finished the investigation. It seems, that our entity is a simple human. Like we are. They don't have ability. There are no abilities in their world. And they have no idea, that we can hear them."

🐄 Kenji was glad, that he was right and you aren't bad. But he wished, he hears your voice again.

🐄 And then, Atsushi and Kenji were investigating a car explosion.

_______________________________________

"Whether in a town or a village, whether toward a cow or a person… If you're sincere toward others, they'll respond in kind. That approach has yet to fail me."

Kenji heard the voice.

"sunshine boy" "adorable" "so kind"

"Kenji, I wish there were more people like you. Everyone need more kindness in their lives. I wish I have someone like you in my life."

Kenji feels like someone pet his hair.

[*In reality, you pet manga panel with Kenji on it.*]

_______________________________________

🐄 Kenji will think that it will be nice to see you in person. To become friends with you.

🐄 When President Fukuzawa and Boss Mori proclaim, that Armed Detective Agency and Port Mafia will work together to find a way out of this world, Kenji will do his best to help everyone. He wanted to go to your world. To see the nature. To see you.

And then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

🐄 Kenji's cards will have the highest attack.

"Go, Kenji, go! Let's clear this stage!"

"Your card skill works so good with Chuuya's"

"Kenji's Rainy Season card is so beautiful"

🐄 When BSD gang will gain access to the rest of your phone, Kenji (with Katai's help) will browse the Internet, looking at photos of nature and villages.

🐄 Kenji (with Katai's help) will recommend you videos about nature.

🐄 If you like watching documentaries, Kenji will accompany you.

🐄 Kenji is planning to create a small farm when they reach your world. So you can eat natural products.

🐄 He wants you to be healthy. You are his (future) friend. You are a human being. You deserve kindness.

_______________________________________

You finish watching a video about lotus flowers. It was beautiful and interesting.

You saw a notification from BSD Mayoi. You got another note in your Gift Box. A note from Kenji with some evolution materials attached to it.

"[Y/N], please, don't forget to go for a walk today. Get some sunlight. And don't forget to smile. Kenji Miyazawa"

You smile and, while getting ready for a walk, choose Kenji's card and pet his chibi sprite.

"Thanks for the advice, Kenji. I will go for a walk. And, of course, I will smile."

You didn't notice that Kenji's eyes light up.

#bungou stray dogs au #self-awareau #self-awarebsd #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #gender neutral reader #bsd anime #yandere #platonic #Self-Aware Kenji Miyazawa #kenji miyazawa #bsd x reader

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fuxuannie · 1 year

Note

If it's okay. Can I request for Bronya and Herta taking care of their sick s/o (reader) headcanons?

Thank you!

* pairing(s) : bronya + herta x gender neutral reader

* prompt : request ♡

* authors note : rlly quick thing! just to get it done (๑´ ³` )ﾉ ALSO I COULD NOT FIND A BRONYA HSR CHIBI FOR THE LIFE OF ME SO IGNORE THAT ITS HI3 BRONYA o(〒﹏〒)o

BRONYA got off work as soon as possible to get to you, stopping by Natashas clinic on the way. She bursts through the front door, worried as ever as she pants for air. She wanted to be home earlier, but work calls, and the earliest she could get out was 7PM.

"(name)?" She'll call out, going through every room in your shared home with concern and worry through her voice. She eventually finds you curled up on the couch, shivering from the cold. Bronya mutters a small "Oh, darling." as she walks towards you, putting the medicine on the nearby table and kneeling by your side.

Pressing the back of her hand against your forehead, it's clear you're burning hot. Your breathing is hoarse and it's clear you're in pain with how you'd ocassionally twist and turn in your slumber. She opens up the package of medicine that Natasha was so kind to provide, and goes off to another room to retrieve comfort items and a blanket for when you woke up.

You wake up to a warm blanket wrapped around you, and Bronya asleep on a nearby chair with her arms crossed and head hung low. Soft snores coming from her as you chuckle lightly, before it turned to a fit of coughs. "She didn't wake up from that.. must've been real tired." You say to yourself, attention shifting to the various recovery food and medicine laid out on the table.

"Make sure to eat, drink and consume your medicine when you wake up. - Love, Bronya."

You smile at her sweet and thoughtful actions, oh how lucky you were to have her.

HERTA is one of the smartest humans to ever live, if she felt like it, she could brew you a cure that'll have you feel better in seconds. But a part of her.. liked taking care of you while you were sick.

No one would get her to admit it, not even if they nagged her for thousands of years, but she knew the truth far better than anyone else did.

She watches as you blow your nose for the 7th time, having one of her puppets throw it away as she sat next to you in bed. "Hertaa.." You whined, clinging onto her arm. She smiles softly at your clingyness that came with your illness, "Yes, my dearest?" She'll reply, caressing your cheek with her thumb as you hold her hand.

"I don't wanna be sickk.." You sniffled, and she shushes you softly. "I know, I know. Do you want some more soup? Perhaps it's been a few hours and it's time for you to take your medicine again?" She suggests, but you lazily shrug your shoulders. "Aren't you gonna.." Sniff "Get sick too if you stay with me..? I can take care of myself.." But despite your protests, she plants a kiss on your warm forehead.

"It's quite alright, I don't mind. You're far more important to me than the work I'd have to get done on those days of me being sick. Now, what do you need? I'll be here until you feel better."

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #bronya x reader #bronya hsr x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #herta x reader #herta hsr x reader

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ms-scarletwings · 6 months

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Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

#invader zim #iz #iz headcanons #iz theory #irkens #iz comics #iz analysis #Li’l meat man #long post #scarlet talks about things #baby schema

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