just a bird brain

Not sleeping enough? Always tired? They will lead you by the hand or carry you to bed, lie down with you and hold you close. Nap or a full night rest, it doesn't matter. Whatever you need – kisses, cuddles, a lullaby – they will do it for you.

Trouble eating? They will make you a snack just so you have something in your stomach. Only one bite? That's one bite more than nothing and they are so proud of you. Dietary issues? Say no more, they will follow along just so you don't feel alone in this.

Health not so good? Physical or mental, serious or minor, it's not taken lightly because you are their precious one. From reminders to take medicine, soothing massages, warm soup to comforting hug, they got you because helping you is not a burden, you are NOT a burden.

Picture this: winter, it's cold outside and the ground is covered with snow. Humans are doing their thing, kids are playing and then one just plops on the ground and moves there arms and legs back and forth, making a snow angel. A maker asks what they're doing, the kid just says "making snow angels". Why? Why not, it's fun. God forbid an angel soldier overhears it and gets offended, but they're not gonna say anything, not with the makers (and horsemen) being so fond of humans.

Or maybe they are touched that humans call them snow angels. Not in a religious sense, but in a more whimsical way. Sure, it doesn't really look like them, but it's the idea that the first time humans made one, they thought "you know what? That looks like an angel, it's fun and I like this" and from then, everyone knows what snow angels are.

Strife: I'm having homicidal thoughts

Death from another room: Homicidal or suicidal?

Strife: Homicidal

Death: Good, keep it that way

-----

They see it and they care. Immensely. They don't make fun of you, they don't judge. They act.

A steady hand on your bouncing leg, lightly massaging the knee and muscles from becoming sore. Holding your hands, so you don't pick at your skin or bite your nails, rubbing calming circles over the knuckles, the motion grounding. Hair brush carefully gliding through your hair to take care of any knots, or a scalp massage in case you pulled a little too hard. Your nails trimmed and painted in your favourite color, even if they're hands are too big or unsteady. All of it just for you.

Any injuries are immediately taken care of. Lotions for dry skin, bandaid for a scratch, lip balm for bite ridden lips - they're always ready.

And if it's a romantic f/o? Maybe leaving a little kiss here and there. Trying to bite your lips? Not if they're kissing you. Twisting your fingers? Tiny pecks will riddle each and every joint.

"I'm here for you. Always."

No no, instead I keep my other hyperfixations on pillows in shelves of my mind, decorated with fun trinkets and fairy lights. They are still very precious to me, like a collection I can go back to and enjoy. When an old hyperfixation resurfaces, I put away the one before and take the old one from its place. And when I get a new one, I make room, so the other ones can still prosper in my memories.

"Hey. Are you still with me?"

That gentle tone, that soothing voice, their voice. They call out to you. They see your distress, not in accusation, but like they truly see you. What you're feeling. What you need.

Their arms wrap around you like a blanket. Hold you close to their warm or cool chest. Protect you from the outside world or maybe your own inner demons. They murmur sweet comforting words to distract you from your thoughts. Or maybe you need silence, their steady breathing enough to ground you back to reality.

Or maybe you need space, maybe a hug would feel suffocating. That's fine, they don't judge, they will never judge. Instead, they sit close by, so you know you're not alone. In silence, humming a slow melody, whispering reassurance, whatever is best to help you.

Why? Because they love you.

But what if I want to be the giant? What if I want to gush over the small human while holding them gently in the palms of my hands? What if I want to cover them head to toe in kisses, huh? What if I want other humans to look at my human partner and wonder "how did they pull an actual deity?" when in reality, I was the pathetic one yearning for them (・・;)

Wattpad: This person liked your story. That person saved your fic to their library. Those people commented

Me, after I read my old fics: People still like this shit?!

Me: ... at least this isn't AI

Seriously, the wave of cringe I felt while reading my several year old fanfics was... just ugh. The plots are cringe, grammar is terrible, I'm not even gonna try to remember why I made the character the way I did. I don't know what preteen me was on.

But at the same time, at least I was brave enough to say "This is my masterpiece and I want to share it with the world!" and I cannot delete those fics because young me worked so hard on them. Also, it predates AI bullshit, so all that cringe? Yeah, it came from this neurodivergent brain

Spoiler warning for Darksiders 3

War: Brother, if you may.

Strife: Bitches love cannons *fires a blast*

Demon: Oh fuck, that's an anti-tank rifle… OH FUCK, THAT'S AN ANTI-TANK RIFLE!

-----

The thought that if any character from Darksiders saw what I study, they would be confused to high hell. Like, can you imagine?

I'm an IT major, so suffering is a daily mindset, a daily grind if you will. But just imagine how impressed and/or baffled the characters would be at the sight of what I do. Like, they don't know modern tech or what computers are. So imagine the look on an angels or one of the horsemens face when I can create a whole web page from this small flat tech box with buttons. Or that I can make a whole database

Pure ✨️M A G I C✨️

In fact, this could also apply to other studies. Medicine, chemistry, literature, engineering, music, mathematics, law, the list doesn't end. Not just universities or colleges, let's include trade schools and apprenticeships. I'm sure a maker would 100% approve and respect any human who wishes to learn a trade like carpentry or smithing. Humans don't have magic, but they do have motivation and sheer will (or stubbornness)

This helps me with motivation and it makes me feel powerful.

War: What time is it?

Strife: I don't know, hand me that horn

War: *hands Strife a horn"

Strife: *plays the horn obnoxiously*

Fury from her room: WHY ARE YOU PLAYING THE HORN AT 3 AM IN THE FUCKING MORNING!?

Strife: It's 3 am in the morning

-----

Darksiders Incorrect Quotes 3

*After a successful(?) mission*

Strife: Hold on, my brother is calling. Hello?

Death: What did you do?

Strife: Alright. But you can't be mad at me

Death: What. Did you do?

Strife: Okay, first: I was minding my own business-

Death, slams fist into the nearest surface: Bullshit!

Strife: I was!

Death: And exactly what happened whilst you were "minding your own business"?

Strife: So, I was just chillaxing like a balla', when all of a sudden these schmucks kicked in my door.

*Flashback to several demons breaking into Strife's location*

Strife: One of them yelled out:

Random demon: "Get on your knees!"

Strife: And I responded with: "I'm not your mother last night!" And they took exception to that.

*The demons guns down Strife*

Strife: But you know how that song and dance goes.

*Strife transforms into Anarchy and starts ripping and blasting demons to shreds*

Strife: And I killed all but one of them.

Death: What happened to the last one?

*Strife watches as the last demon jumps off a cliff in fear*

Strife: Pussed out like a bitch!

Death heard it before he saw it while he was making his way towards Eden's little flying course. She usually trained there her flight abilities, but from the sound of it, it wasn't going well.

"Argh, damn it!" The angel growled, promptly ripping the goggles of her face.

"What happened?" Death's voice spooked the young girl, puffing up her feathers. Eden turned to face the horseman and it seemed to only make her more upset and/or timid, so unlike the confident soul she is.

"I keep messing up. The more I try, the worse my time is," Eden explained, "my stupid wings keep slowing me down."

So this was the issue. It was known that she wasn't the strongest when it came to flying, not like other angels.

"I'll never be good enough," the girl's words almost made Death recoil.

"Why do you say that?" He asked.

"Because... how can I be a proper angel if I can't even be in the air for more than 2 hours? You said so yourself, angel's almost never stay on the ground," Eden sighed, her wings drooped down. This was where the issue lay. The Nephilim sat down before patting the space next to him, the girl quietly sat down, frown still on her face.

"I was merely jesting about angels almost never standing on their feet, it was not at your expense," Death stated. "You learned to fly with the help of a wingless being and a bird, that's a challenge itself. You know sharp maneuvers, quick evasion and other fancy flight tricks. You hold yourself well on the ground, that's more than most angels 3 times your age."

"But will it be enough?" Eden sighed.

"Nothing will ever be enough, there is no limit to a skill, only how much your body can handle. You can always improve, but you still need rest."

Death's words resonated with Eden. She thought over his words, thinking back on the past, thinking of how far she came, and it felt... hopeful.

"You don't need to be like every other angel, Creator knows there are enough already. You don't have to be perfect, just... be you. I didn't raise you just so you'd be like other angels," the old reaper added, gently ruffling his daughter's hair, which earned a small laugh. Her mood had already improved.

"Heh, guess you're right," she hummed, "thanks, dad."