#crunch's nibbles

[transbeeduo]

btw c!tubbo literally cannot sleep without cuddling someone i think. he usuaully will fall asleep cuddling ranboo because they literally share the same bed but sometimes he cuddles tommy if he's sleeping over at tommy's house or something so like in new lmanberg and while ranboo was dead he got very VERY little sleep,,,, he loves latching onto people to cuddle them he's 100% the big spoon i know this

[bg-anon]

This encapsulates my feelings toward Harvey so damn perfectly, you don't understand.

[s7ieben]

Cookie Monsters Are Real!

acrylic on paper – painting – 30 x 21 cm

S7iEBEN.art RedBubble

[rxttenfish]

you know. one thing that i don't think i'll be including in caecilian, even though it's almost certainly happening and kinda funny to me, is the fact that aaravi would be having SUCH a bad time after having eaten nothing but meat for a week straight. the most plants merfolk eat are basically derived algae broths and the equivalent of the seaweed wrapping on sushi. they have no grains. they have no fruits. they have no vegetables. they only have meat. it's just meat. aaravi would get out of the merkingdom with horrible gastric distress and for the next month she eats healthier than she has ever eaten before in her life. she would weep at the taste of a carrot.

meanwhile, even just the little bit that aaravi and bellanda get miranda to eat during the visit would be making her feel SO much better. even if she gets just a little bit of blubber, that alone would help her perk up so much.

[teetertotterseesaw]

it has come to my attention that garfield also bites thats which he loves

[askthelordsinblack]

Nibbly!!! hi! very important question... favorite cereal?

CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH.

[foxesinatrenchcoat]

REALLL 🫶🫶🫶🔥🔥🔥🔥

[iswearidontusetumbler]

we all have to bite the dust some day, but nobody said how hard. chomp that dang dust. chow down on it. don’t let anybody stop you.

[deansbeer]

✷ ◟ ECHOES OF DESIRE ৎ᠀

library introduction minors do NOT interact!

SYNOPSIS. you never expected to hear dean's thoughts this clearly—especially not when they're about you in the most unexpected way.

WARNING(S). mentions of masturbation | f!reader | overwhelming thoughts | telepathy | physical sensations triggered by another person's thoughts | heavy unresolved romantic/sexual tension | mutual pining | awkwardness | emotional vulnerability | telepath!reader | older!dean | reader is in her mid twenties | light jealousy (man gets jealous of a bunny. wild, huh? believe me, i know.) | tension-filled misunderstandings | new unexplained ability reader develops.

KARI'S NOTES. ignore the fact that my blog is a mess of things & i've changed the layout for my fics many times :) can this also be considered an early bday gift for dean ??? i have a lil something planned for his special day but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ this is somewhat cutesy ig lol + tiny disclaimer <3 the photos above r used solely for aesthetic purposes !!!!

it's late in the bunker—the kind of silence that feels heavy, pressing against your ears as you sit alone in the library. sam and dean have both retreated to their rooms for the night, finally giving in to the exhaustion that comes with long hunts and endless research. but you? you're wide awake, as usual, hunched over a pile of lore books with your bunny, bolt, nibbling on hay in a little pile you set out for him. the faint sound of his chewing and the occasional rustle of paper are the only things breaking the stillness.

you pop another blue peanut m&m into your mouth, the faint crunch grounding you as your eyes scan the faded text in front of you. you're so close—so damn close—to deciphering the last piece of this puzzle for their next case. you can feel it right there, just out of reach, the answer dancing at the edge of your mind.

but then, like a radio station suddenly switching frequencies, you hear it.

someone's thoughts.

you pause mid-bite, your jaw tightening as you inwardly groan. who the hell is thinking this loud so late at night?

it's not unusual for you to pick up on stray thoughts; it's part of being a telepath. but this? this is loud. intrusive. like someone shouting directly into your brain. you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to block it out, to focus on the task at hand. you've gotten good at tuning people out over the years, but some thoughts are harder to ignore than others.

you shake your head, turning the page of the lore book in front of you, determined to push through the distraction. but the thoughts don't stop. they keep coming, louder and more insistent, like waves crashing against the shore.

and then you realize something.

these thoughts… they're familiar.

at first, you think it's sam. he has a tendency to overthink even in his sleep, his dreams sometimes bleeding into his waking thoughts. but no, this isn't sam. his mind is quiet, the kind of stillness that comes with deep, dreamless sleep.

it has to be dean.

your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat as the realization settles in.

dean.

you grip the edge of the table, your fingers curling tightly around the wood as his thoughts flood your mind. he's begging. it's desperate, raw, like he's pleading for something he can't have. but it's not just his words—his emotions are pouring through, too, overwhelming you with their intensity.

your chest tightens, your heartbeat quickening to match his. there's a strange knot forming in your lower abdomen, a heat that spreads through your body, and you have to clutch at your stomach to steady yourself. biting down on your bottom lip, you try to hold back the whimper threatening to escape.

he's calling your name. not out loud, but in his mind. over and over, like a prayer.

and then it happens—something that's never happened to you before.

you see through his eyes.

for a moment, you're no longer in the library. you're somewhere else entirely, looking through dean's gaze as he lies in bed. your breath hitches as you take in the scene before you: his hand, moving with a rough, almost frantic rhythm over himself, and in the other hand?

a polaroid.

your polaroid.

it's a picture he took of you during one of your outings, the sunlight making your skin glow as you posed for a photo. you remember the moment vividly—how he insisted on taking the photo despite your protests, how he teased you about how good you looked in your little dress.

and now he's using it.

you let out a tiny gasp, the sound startling bolt, who looks up at you with wide, curious eyes. you're back in the library now, your cheeks burning as you try to process what you just saw.

dean. was. masturbating. to. your. photo.

you shake your head, trying to banish the image from your mind, but it's too late. it's seared into your memory, the raw need in his thoughts still lingering like an echo.

you don't get much sleep after that.

the next morning, you're in the kitchen, trying to shake off the haze from the night before. bolt sits at your feet, munching on his breakfast as you make yourself a cup of coffee. you're dressed in one of your favorite nightgowns, a tiny blue satin thing with lace trimming, paired with a matching silk robe. it's comfortable, soft against your skin, and you don't think much about it as you move around the kitchen.

you're lost in thought, replaying everything from the night before, when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. you turn, startled, and there he is.

dean.

he's rubbing his tired eyes, his hair sticking up in every direction, and his t-shirt clings to his chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare. he doesn't say anything at first, just grunts in acknowledgment as he heads for the coffee pot, but you can feel the tension radiating off him.

"morning," you say, your voice light, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

"mornin'," he mutters, his voice rough with sleep.

you take a seat at the table, bolt hopping onto your lap as you sip your coffee. dean follows a moment later, his eyes flicking to the bunny and then to you.

"does he have to sit on your lap?" he grumbles, though the jealousy in his thoughts is loud and clear.

you can't help but smirk. "why are you so jealous of a bunny?”

his eyes narrow, and he shoots you a pointed look. "stay out of my head, sweetheart."

but you're not about to let him off that easily. setting your coffee down, you lean forward slightly, your gaze locking onto his.

"how come you were begging for me last night?"

he freezes, his jaw tightening as his eyes widen. for a moment, he looks like a deer caught in headlights, and you almost feel bad for him. almost.

"i don't know what you're talkin' about," he says quickly, his voice stiff as he avoids your gaze.

you frown, not buying his act for a second. "dean."

he tries to deflect, asking you something about the research you were doing last night, but you're not letting this go.

"don't lie to me," you say softly, your voice firm. "i know what i heard. i know what i felt."

his cheeks flush, a rare sight that only makes you more determined. but DEAN WINCHESTER is nothing if not stubborn, and he's not about to admit what you already know.

two idiots in love, too afraid to take the leap.

and yet, the truth lingers in the air between you, unspoken but undeniable.

SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @figthoughts @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @lustagel @rafespreciosa @jasvtsc @voidsuites @t3l3vangelism . . . ☆

[transbeeduo]

Hey does anyone else remember these guys

[literaryvein-reblogs]

words for when your characters are ________

Eating

absorption, chew, contract, crunch, deplete, diet, dig in, dispatch, draft, exhaust, feast, finish, glut, gobble, gormandize, graze, guzzle, ingest, nibble, nosh, peck, polish off, prey on, quaff, sip, stuff, take, tear down, wolf, xerophagy

Moving

bob, careen, circulate, contort, curl, dandle, descend, dislocate, displace, drift, entwine, fidget, flourish, haul, loop, oscillate, paddle, pivot, pulsate/pulse, revolve, rock, rotate, skirt, topple, transport, tumble, twine, uproot, waft, waver, wheel, wield

Moving quickly

barge in/barge into, bolt, bustle, coast, dart, decamp, flash, flinch, flutter, gallop, glide, hurry, hustle, jiggle, make off, plunge, prance, rebound, ricochet, run, scamper, scramble, shake, shudder, skedaddle, skip, slide, slither, speed, sprint, storm, swerve, tear, twirl, wag, whiz, wobble, zip, zoom

Moving slowly

amble, creep, dalliance, decline, dilly-dally, hobble, knock about/knock around, laggard, linger, lumber, meander, plod, prowl, ramble, reel, saunter, slink/slither, sneak, steal, stroll, tarry, tramp, waddle, wander

Vocalizing

accent, bark, bellow, cackle, chant, chortle, clamor, cry, drone, giggle, growl, guffaw, harmonize, howl, laugh/laughter, locution, mumble, mutter, parrot, roar, shout, shut up, snap, snicker/snigger, squawk, stutter, voice, whimper, whistle, yammer, yowl

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary. Writing Resources PDFs

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary ⚜ Part 1

[wheeboo]

to love and be loved | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which wonwoo tells you about his first (and only) love. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers WARNINGS. self-doubt talk on reader's end, self-indulgent wooweee, this was painfully hard to write lmao n have no idea if any of this makes sense WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from anon: Hiiiiiiii first of all congratssss for you 2k. For the event, ive been thinking the same exact story with wonwoo and #6 from list 3 - #6: “You’re not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You just… Need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

notes: i'd quite literally do anything to have these kinds of talks with wonwoo ☹️☹️. anyway i hope u all enjoy this <3 hits close to home >< tysm anon hehe <3

join the 2k celebration!

"Hey, uh, Wonwoo?"

"Mhm?"

"...have you ever been in love?"

A cricket chirps into the evening air right after you ask, and you suddenly feeling like you're holding in a long-winded breath. Then you hear a loud crunch by Wonwoo from the crackers he was snacking on, and you blink up to him wiping away the corner of his mouth. There's the slightest glimpse of a curve to his lips that you manage to catch.

He silently offers you a cracker in your direction, the anticipating silence between the two of you growing thickly. You take the cracker from his hand, muttering a quiet thanks, before nibbling on it absentmindedly.

The night is absolutely beautiful right now, swearing that you could spot and make out the constellations above if you squinted hard enough. The distant chirping of crickets is the only sound that breaks the silence as the coolness of the night rolls in, carrying with it slight breeze that whispers through the leaves overhead the balcony of your apartment.

"I have."

You swiftly turn your head to him, eyes widening intriguingly. "You have?"

The chuckle that leaves him is somewhat awkward, a tad bit hesitant. He crumples up the bag of crackers and sets it aside, chugging down the last sips of his drink and setting down the empty can as well.

"Did you... ever confess to them?" You ask, suddenly feeling curious, though there's a bit of disappointment at the tip of your tongue.

You swear you could see the thoughts swirling around his head. Wonwoo keeps his eyes fixed up to the night sky. There's a distant look in his eyes, as though he's peering into some past moment that only he can see, before he shakes his head, a faint smile crossing over his lips.

"No, I didn't," he answers calmly. "They were too far away, so... I just chose to admire them at a distance."

You lean back against the wall behind, your shoulder momentarily brushing against his. "Did they know you?"

Wonwoo purses his lips together. "Mhm."

"Well, you missed your chance!" You exclaim, prodding him playfully with your elbow. "I can't believe you let them get away, dude. Like right through the little cracks of your fingers. You could've been in a relationship by now."

This earns you a low, playful scoff from Wonwoo. "Are you assuming that they loved me back?"

Immediately, you feel the heat crawl up your neck and to the tips your ears.

"Well, um... Yeah, I am," You admit sheepishly, letting out a small sigh. "I mean, who wouldn't fall for a guy like you? You're nice and... charming. I think anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

There's a silence that falls between the two of you, one simply more than just comfortable yet denser than ever, because the thought of being loved by Wonwoo seems to linger longer than you notice. You steal a glance at him, seeing his face still turned upwards towards the night sky and the moonlight reflecting on his glasses. Strands of his dark hair blow across his forehead in the breeze. You can't quite decipher his expression, but a flicker of something𑁋perhaps surprise, maybe even amusement𑁋dances on his features for a brief moment.

He finally turns back to you, a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips. "You think so?"

"Yeah," You confirm, nodding lightly. "Absolutely."

Wonwoo still keeps his eyes on you as you glance away, seeing the way you fidget with your hands in your lap and smoothing out the creases in your pants nervously. He glances down at his own hand and back at yours, lips pursing together in contemplation, but only folds his fingers back together the second you reach over him to grab the crumpled-up bag of crackers. He feels a little bit too warm in his sweater right now.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

A crunch echoes through the air. Then another. And another.

"I've just been kinda... thinking a lot lately, I guess," You reply slowly, quietly. "And it sort of makes me sound desperate in a way, but there are times I just wonder if, um... if anyone has ever felt the same way about me."

Wonwoo tilts his head slightly. "Love?"

"Not just love, but... seeing me, you know?" Being able to talk about this out loud makes your chest feel heavy. "Since it's hard these days to find someone who sees you for who you are, not for who you can be. I... I just feel like I'm hard to love sometimes. Hell, maybe even unlovable. It’s hard to break out of that mindset when things get hard again.”

A thoughtful quietness seeps through the nighttime breeze, which sends goosebumps up and down your skin, but you don't mind it because you know that Wonwoo is listening either way. And the more you think about it𑁋the thought of knowing that he's here, with his presence is right next to you𑁋it seems to comfort you more than you notice.

There's a small hum of acknowledgement that you hear from his end, unsure if it's just your imagination or if he's actually responding as your mind feels a little jumbled up right now. But then Wonwoo shifts beside you, his arm lightly pressing against yours.

"But I... I think I've reached a point in time where I can say I love myself a little more than a few years ago, or last year, or even just yesterday," You continue to ramble a bit aimlessly, chuckling dryly to yourself. "It’d be nice to share that with someone too, you know? To finally get over this loneliness. But it's not entirely a sad loneliness or a happy one. It's, like, uh... both put together, I guess."

A few moments of silence pass. You feel Wonwoo gently nudge your leg with his.

"I'm proud of you."

You peer up to look at him, mind nearly going blank from the way he's gazing at you. Or maybe it's just the moonlight that's making him appear so... picturesque. "What for?"

"For loving yourself, silly," Wonwoo muses almost cheekily, and the delighted tone that you catch makes your stomach leap. "Even if it's just by a small percentage than yesterday, it's still okay. You're doing good. I want you to know that."

You're doing good. It's just those three singular words that has heat forming in your eyes that you somehow manage to blink back before anything could spill, and hearing it come from Wonwoo feels different. There's a vulnerable sweetness to them, a sincerity that catches you off-guard. You force a smile𑁋a grateful one, nonetheless𑁋before it shifts into a frown.

And Wonwoo catches it right away. "What's wrong?"

Your lips form a thin line, pressing together in thought. You refuse to acknowledge why you think your heart feels slightly... jealous.

"I hope whoever you loved before knows how lucky they are one day," You say to him. "if you're still in love with them, that is..."

Wonwoo stills for a minute, pensively. "I am."

"You are?"

"I never stopped."

You stare at him for a few moments, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief at him, before crossing your arms together and letting out a small, incredulous laugh. "Then you should've said that you're in love with them, idiot."

Wonwoo sucks in a breath.

"I'm in love with you."

You blink instinctively, once, twice, three times, momentarily thinking that Wonwoo's presence might somehow disappear into thin air. But he's still there𑁋a certain softness in the way he's looking at you, a gentleness that seems to wrap around you like a warm embrace𑁋waiting for you. His words suspend heavily in the air, and maybe the world is also holding its breath just as you are too.

"And... You're not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You're far from that," Wonwoo continues, voice tender, fond, and soft as a lullaby. "You just... need to let me in, and let me show you you're just as worthy of love as anyone else is."

You could only sit merely frozen at this point, throat tightened and jaw dropped in shock among many other weird, fuzzy feelings happening throughout your body. Something between relief and disbelief. Hope and hesitancy. Comfort and uncertainty. You have the capacity to run yet you choose not to𑁋you're letting him in, letting the warmth of his words seep into the cracks of your doubt.

Your mind reels dizzily, almost like the world has been tilting away off-balance.

"You... You're in love with me?" You repeat, almost dumbly, because you cannot seem to fathom anything that's been said in the past few moments. "All that talk about earlier... about who you..."

Wonwoo hangs his head down low, rubbing at his neck in a bashful manner. "It was about you."

"And you never... you never told me?"

"Honestly, I'd like to think a part of it was you being a tad bit oblivious." And then he just simply grins, his nose crinkling along with it. "But that's okay. Watching you slowly figure yourself out made me realise that maybe I needed to find myself a little more too."

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading painfully throughout your face. At first, you have the urge to brush it all away as a silly misunderstanding. Maybe laugh it off, retreat back inside, and go to sleep pretending all of this didn't happen. But the sincerity in his eyes stops you.

You lick your dry lips, the cool night air beginning to feel a lot less suffocating.

"Did you?" You ask vaguely, before shaking your head repeating, "Did you... find yourself?"

Wonwoo lets his eyes roam over you, taking you in, before leaning back on the wall and bringing his gaze back up toward the night sky. Your eyes refuse to leave him, and perhaps this is what it's like to admire someone from afar and close up all at once.

The two of you take a deep, deliberate exhale together.

"Yeah," he answers, smiling softly. "I think I found myself right where I want to be."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk

[ozzgin]

What if Yan Chef had a darling who doesn’t like people watching them eat. Like, will straight up find a way to refuse to eat if someone can see or hear them eat. I’m mortified if someone else can hear me crunch a chip or watches me eat a burger. I can’t imagine the mortification of dating a chef who’s hyper focused on my reactions to food they cooked.

Yan!Chef who is absolutely obsessed with their Darling and loves watching them eat, but has to do so in utmost secrecy. He knows too well that his Darling hates being seen or heard. While they may occasionally sneak a nibble around him, any proper dish will be consumed in a different room, away from prying eyes.

It's understandable, truly. Everyone has a right to privacy. That's what he keeps telling himself, smugly going through the photos he discreetly took of you during your meals. Shameless? Maybe. But he simply can't help it. Your puffed up cheeks, your table habits, the way you dab your mouth with a napkin after a particularly messy bite. He’s seen it all - undercover, of course - and greatly indulges in the privilege of being the only one to witness it.

It’s a secret he’ll take to his grave.

[rarely--motivated]

pebbles,, small rocks,,,

(you better hand over that RC reboot NOW ‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥💥💥💥 /silly nf)

redesigning pebbles for the 9479479347947947974937943rd time i had such a good idea for RC au reboot too... will i ramble? unsure, it will be a mystery until the idea gets more comprehensible ....

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (IV)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt, subtle (I think) Epic: the musical references, fluff, angst, Crepus mentioned, violence, reader gets injured

Note: okay so not totally voicelines.. there are character stories too cuz I had no idea how else to write other scenes.. lmk if that’s alright with you guys or if I should stick with the voiceline format<3 Enjoy! (sorry this took a while btw) link for part 3! link for part 1! link for part 5!

(You) About Diluc: The manor

Dawn Winery? Never been there, honestly. I heard it’s massive, though. Do I know the way? Also no—but that’s not gonna stop me! I will get him back. Yeah, he once told me never to go out at night… but what’s the worst that could happen? There haven’t been any monsters nearby, as far as I know. Besides, getting lost is part of the challenge, and it’ll all be worth it in the end when me and Diluc make up and have a proper dinner in his manor.

… Hey, do you feel like we’re being watched? Uhm, how about you stay back in town? Something feels fishy here. Don’t worry, I know how to handle myself in a pinch. Plus, it’ll be awkward to have you there while I’m patching things up with him.

(Diluc) About you: During patrols

Despite everything that’s happened, my duties as the Darknight Hero—however terrible the name is—remain unchanged. Protecting Mondstadt and its people comes first—always. At least from here, I’m certain I can keep them safe.

Wait—shh. Did you hear that? Get back. Stay close to me, but… on second thought, maybe you should return to Mondstadt. It’s too dangerous out here tonight. I can handle this, just like I always do.

—

(You) Character Story: The Abyss

The scent of wine lingered faintly in the air—a guide to the manor. Alone, they pressed forward, the quiet of the night broken only by the crunch of their footsteps. But something was off. A rustle in the bushes made them pause, and then it came—a low growl, followed by the chilling cackle of an Abyss mage.

It happened so suddenly. A hilichurl raised its bow, an arrow already notched; another, larger one, came charging to them with its axe. An entire army had come. And somehow, they knew—they were the target.

They moved into a desperate sprint, throat burning as they yelled for help. The fiery breath of a demon head roared behind them as arrows streaked by, one grazing their arm with a biting chill. Smoke choked their lungs, the glow of the burning grass blurring their vision. Their heart thundered in their ears, drowning out the cacophony of growls, crackling flames, and the ominous hum of a charged arrow ready to fly.

Faced with looming cliffs that boxed them in, the shadows of monsters grew taller—darker. “This can’t be it,” they froze, stumbling to a halt. They were out of time.

Diluc’s warning echoed in their mind, “The world becomes a very different place at night; promise me you won’t even try to go outside the city.” They can’t help but cry, “I-I’m sorry… I should’ve listened.”

The Abyss mage raised its wand, and a circle appeared beneath them. This was it. Desperate, they drew one last call for help before the mage had showered them in red.

Then… the world fell cold… they expected fire to be nibbling at their skin, but Mondstadt’s winds blew clearly against their legs.

Strange… in the distance, they could hear grunts, the sounds of a battlefield. They took a hot breath, choking and coughing immediately from the smoke. Their vision was hazy, head aching from the lack of oxygen. But they could see the flash of red hair in front of them, claymore in hand, and their world grew brighter.

“Diluc..?”

“Stay where you are,” his voice was firm yet steady. “I got you.”

(Diluc) Character Story: Ruthlessness

Diluc had one goal in mind: protect them.

It didn’t matter how—whether it meant staying far away from them, or cutting down every last monster standing between him and their safety. He would become a monster if it meant keeping them alive.

His claymore burned hotter than ever, fueled with his anger and determination. Hilichurls fell in his wake like leaves in a storm as he mercilessly brushed through them in a line, disregarding the burning grass around him.

Yet, despite his ruthless display, the Abyss mage stood mockingly strong, its Pyro shield glowing, unscathed. Its laughter echoed through the chaos, each chuckle grating against his nerves like splinters.

Diluc tightened his grip on his claymore, his knuckles white. With a sharp breath, he hoisted the weapon high and brought it crashing down against the shield with everything he had. The impact sent a burst of sparks into the air, but the barrier hardly wavered.

Again and again, he struck, the rhythmic clanging of metal against magic filling the battlefield. Each hit drained more of his strength, but he refused to stop. His heart pounded louder with every passing second, the image of their limp body lying somewhere in the smoke seared into his mind. He couldn’t let it end this way. He wouldn’t. Memories of his father, flaccid in his arms, came flashing through him. Not again.

And then, as if the archons themselves had taken pity on him, he felt a cold drop of water land on his head.

Diluc froze, his breath hitching. Another drop followed, and another, until rain poured from the sky, extinguishing the flames that had threatened to consume the battlefield. The Abyss mage hissed in irritation as its shield flickered, weakened by the downpour.

This was his chance. With a roar, Diluc swung his claymore in a wide arc, the final blow shattering the mage’s defenses. He watched as it picked itself up from the ground, small and weak.

In a dark, vengeful growl, he said: “I have had enough.”

Diluc’s gaze thinned as he raised his weapon, and let it’s tip fall on that tiny monster, apathetic, unbothered.

As it crumpled to the ground, the battlefield grew silent save for the steady patter of rain. His gaze turned sharply toward the smoke-filled air, his voice hoarse but resolute.

“I’m coming,” he muttered, his steps quick and determined as he searched for them, rain streaming down his face. “Just hold on.”

—

(You) About Diluc: The morning after

I woke up in his bed.

In his room.

In Dawn Winery!

Yeah, that Dawn Winery.

I mean—I’m not complaining… ahem—it’s better than laying in a ditch full of dirt and scars, right? Anyway, there I was, sitting on his bed, flabbergasted, confused, and with a wounded arm. I heard a knock on the door and Diluc’s headmaid, Adelinde walked in. Have you met her? She’s just the kindest person ever, I’m telling you! The way she’s so soft-spoken and gentle in the way she tended to my injury, it felt like I was with my mother.

But here’s the weird part—she thanked me for helping Diluc. I was like, help him?! All I did was cause trouble for him last night! Honestly, I don’t get it. What could I have possibly done?

(Diluc) About you: The morning after

I hadn’t slept a wink that night. How could I, after all that’s happened? What if something were to sneak through the window and take them away from me? *sigh* They’re so reckless, honestly. I can’t believe it—out of all the things I told them not to do, that was what they did!

Then again… their stubbornness landed them here, in the manor. I’d rather have them unharmed, of course, but… they’re here, nonetheless.

Adelinde is tending to their wounds right now, though I insisted I do it myself. Maybe I should check in on them—make sure they’re resting well. Elzer, could you tell Charles I won’t be coming in today?

(You) About Diluc: Staying

He’s letting me stay with him in the manor until my arm heals… Ehe.

Okay, as much as I love that, I didn’t really like how Diluc said it. It was more of a… command than a suggestion. Like, “You’re staying with me until your arm gets better.” And not, “You should stay here until you’re healed.”

It felt weird hearing him in that tone… I understand why people are intimidated by him, now.

(Diluc) About you: Staying

They insisted they were fine and ready to leave—typical. But I couldn’t let them. Not after what happened. They’re staying here, no question about it. I’ve already asked Adelinde to prepare the guest bedroom for them.

…Do they think I was being harsh? Maybe. I wouldn’t be surprised. But it’s not about being polite; it’s about keeping them safe. Their recklessness already put them in danger once. I can’t take any chances with them walking back to Mondstadt in that condition. They’ll understand eventually.

(You) About Diluc: Meals

Diluc and I eat together pretty often, though considering what happened, there was an… unmistakable tension between us, so you could say our meal was, uhm… lukewarm. It might just be me, but I could feel his eyes on me all the time…

Ah, I haven’t had the chance to talk to him as well. There are so many things I want to confront him about—why did he decide to end things just like that? Did he think I wasn’t worth spending time over because of the rumors? Does he think that I’m only using him for his money? Why would he choose to believe that stupid Donna?!

*sigh* Calm down, I’ll ask when I get the chance.

(Diluc) About you: Meals

They’re recovering well enough to sit and eat, but… the silence at the table was deafening. I tried to focus on my plate, but I couldn’t help glancing up at them. Their injuries, though minor, stood out starkly against their skin, and every time I saw the bandages, guilt gnawed at me.

I wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. Should I apologize for what happened? For letting those ridiculous rumors drive me to push them away? Or would that just make things worse?

Still, I noticed they barely touched their food. Are they upset with me? Or still in pain? … Perhaps I should’ve made something easier for them to eat. I’ll have Adelinde prepare something lighter next time.

—

(You) About Diluc: Leisure time

He plays chess a lot, I noticed. So, I had nothing better to do once day, and I joined him! It had been a while since I played that game so—you guessed it—he won all the rounds we played. I came close to checkmating him, though!

We played a lot more everyday, and, not to brag but… I won three games in a row, hehe. …Out of ten, yes. That’s still a win, though! You can’t take this away from me!

Oh, and get this—he actually smiled when I beat him. A small one, but it was there! Maybe I’ll win again tomorrow and see if I can get him to laugh, too.

(Diluc) About you: Leisure time

Their injured arm makes it difficult for them to tend to the flower garden, so I’ve been helping where I can. I can’t say I’m particularly skilled, but… I try. Watching their face light up when a new bloom appears is a small joy I didn’t know I needed. They’re so enthusiastic, so full of life—it’s captivating. Their voice softens, and their smile… it’s unforgettable.

I suspect they miss working at Flora’s shop. Speaking of which, I still need to inform Flora about their absence. I’ll take care of it soon—after I finish pruning these roses. Or… at least, trying to.

(Adelinde) About you

Oh, they’re a delight! It’s admirable how they manage to brighten up the room, even on a gloomy day. I hope they stick around even after they recover.

(You) About the voices

… It’s hard to sleep with everything swirling in my head. The Abyss, that cold feeling of being surrounded, trapped, suffocated—it’s still so vivid in my mind. I can almost hear their claws scraping against the walls, the sounds of battle echoing like a distant memory. … Where’s Diluc?

(Diluc) Character story: The voices

The manor was quiet, the crackle of the fireplace being the only one breaking the stillness. Diluc sat on the couch, a book in hand, his expression calm and focused. Laying down beside him, they were curled up, eyes shut but clearly restless.

He noticed their faint shiver before they spoke.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve listened to you.” Their voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

Diluc closed his book, setting it aside. “There’s no need to apologize.” His tone was low, soothing.

“I hear them sometimes,” they admitted, their fingers tightening against the blanket. “The voices… from that night. I can still feel it—the claws, the cold, everything.”

They allowed him to pull them up his chest, his hand gently rubbing their uninjured arm. “The Abyss Order has a way of lingering, even after the fight is over.”He felt a shaky breath from them. “But it’s over now. You’re safe here. I won’t let them harm you again.”

For a moment, the only sound was the fire, warm and constant. They nodded, eyes finally closing as their breathing began to even out.

Diluc remained by their side, watching the flickering flames. His expression was unreadable, but his thoughts were clear: I’ll protect you. Always.

(Adelinde) About you and Diluc: Warmth from more than the hearth

I was about to leave the manor when I stumbled upon them—the florist—sleeping on the couch. What surprised me more, however, was that Master Diluc, also fast asleep, had them laying on his chest!

He rarely lets his guard down, even here at the manor. To see him so relaxed, and with them of all people, was heartwarming in a way I can’t quite describe. It seems they’ve brought more than just liveliness to this house—they’ve brought him comfort, too.

(You) About Diluc: A good night’s sleep

Ehe…

(Diluc) About you: A good night’s sleep

Hah…

—

(You) About Diluc: Little habits

I noticed how he always takes a moment to straighten the chairs at the table after everyone has left. It’s like a small ritual for him, but it’s… cute.

(Diluc) About you: Little habits

They have a habit of making instruments out of anything. I once caught them in the kitchen searching for snacks and beating the jar covers like drums. The way they embarrassingly paused when I came in had me stifling a laugh, haha.

(You) About Diluc: Unasked questions

It’s not like I keep forgetting to ask him about what happened a few days ago, it’s just— I never seem to find the right time. I know, I should talk to him as soon as possible, but how on earth do I start?! “Hey, Diluc, I wanted to ask you why you left me all of a sudden” feels a bit… heavy, doesn’t it? But I need to know. I just have to figure out how to say it.

(Diluc) About you: Unasked questions

I still haven’t asked why they went out that night. Do you have any idea? They seemed so… determined. I can’t help but wonder what was going through their mind. Perhaps it’s not my place to ask, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it. I should probably wait, though. But the curiosity nags at me.

(You) About Diluc: Sticking around

Is it just me, or does that man almost never leave me alone? It’s been around three days since I’ve been staying at the manor, and I swear, he’s everywhere I go! Yeah, it was nice at first… but now? It’s getting a bit much. I can’t even sneak into the kitchen for a snack without him showing up with a cup of tea or a plate of food, acting like he’s been there for hours. I’m starting to wonder if he’s doing this on purpose. Maybe he’s just trying to make sure I’m not bored… Whatever the reason, I need some space.

(Diluc) About you: Sticking around

I’ve noticed how tense they’ve been lately… but I can’t afford to let them out of my sight. Not after everything that’s happened. I know they probably think I’m smothering them, but… I’m only doing this to protect them. There are always dangers lurking around, especially when they’re vulnerable. I can’t help but stay nearby, even if it means interrupting their little moments of peace.

(You) About Diluc: Overbearing

Oh my Archons, he’s at it again! I swear, Diluc’s taken over my entire routine! I can’t even make a cup of tea without him swooping in, insisting I drink his special blend, and then serving it on a tray like I’m royalty. He keeps asking if I’m sure I’m not still hurt—yes, Diluc, I’m fine! I’m practically healed! But every time I try to do something for myself, it’s like he’s right there, ready to stop me. I don’t want to be treated like I’m broken. I get it, okay? He wants to take care of me, but I’m not some delicate flower!

(Diluc) About you: Distant

They’re avoiding me. I can see it in the way they peek through the door before going out. I know I’ve been overbearing, but… What else am I supposed to do? I can’t stand the idea of something happening to them. They’re so strong, but there’s always that part of me, a nagging fear that I can’t shake—that if I don’t keep watch, I’ll lose them. How do I explain that without pushing them away even more?

(You) About Diluc: Confrontation

Ah, that… Yeah, I talked to him—about everything. We had a pretty big fight, so… I’m going back to town. What happened? Erm… I don’t wanna talk about it. Let’s just say I now think of him as stubborn, and he, of me, reckless. We won’t be seeing each other anymore, I believe.

(Diluc) About you: Confrontation

The argument was inevitable—I expected it, actually. I just wish I chose the right words to say. Did you know they went out that night to see me? *sigh* This guilt… is overwhelming. I shouldn’t have caged them like that. Or called them reckless…

The manor feels unbearably quiet without them, now.

… Should I stop by the flower shop?

—

Note: comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! As I’ve mentioned, lmk if I should include character stories in the next part, or if I should stick with only the voicelines.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 25

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You shiver in the front of the military grade truck. The back shifts as the soldier moves around in the cargo bed. You watched him lift his dusty motorcycle before he pointed you up to front. The heat is blasting but it’s not enough to cut through the frigid chill. 

You glance at the crooked cabin. You’re both happy and scared to leave this place. You examine the lumpy ground, wondering which rises and falls are traps, trying to pinpoint where you got yourself snared. 

The driver’s door swings open and jostles the whole truck. The soldier heaves himself into the seat and snaps the door shut. You turn your head straight as you feel him watching you. He frowns and twists the dial for the heat. It’s strange how he never seems to feel the cold. Then again, he isn’t the same as you. 

He grips the large wheel and steps on the gas. There’s no pretense in your flight. You wonder why though. Is it because of what he did there? Of that iron smell that won’t quite leave the floorboards? Or maybe it’s the constant cold and whistling winds? Do those things even affect him? 

He peels a hand away and gestures, a placid wave as if to calm you. You stare at him. He grabs the wheel again and his eyes stay on the road. He huffs. 

“I’ll try not to be afraid,” you say. 

He nods. That’s good enough. He doesn’t look concerned. He’s always rigid and alert but if he’s not geared up for a fight, then you won’t expect one. 

You cross your arms and try to relax. The seat is stiff and smells dingy. The motor is loud and the axle rattly. He steers with ease, with determination. Wherever you’re going, he won’t stop until you get there. 

The sky’s hue rolls from gray to slate to near pitch black. He drives on. He hands you a packet of trail mix and you nibble on it. Your eyes begin to droop and you yawn, fighting to stay awake. You flinch as he reaches to pet your head. 

He caresses behind your ear then flutters over your cheek. He’s giving you permission to sleep. You should at least cry. You close your eyes and lean against the quaking truck. You sink into a shallow trance, your racing mind stymied by your exhausted body. 

You feel the light change beyond your eyelids. You only lift them as the grayness turns almost white. You sit up as the engine continues its thunderous growls. You sit up and rub your cheeks. 

You look ahead at the large cedars dusted in frost. The truck chugs up the steady winding incline of the hills. The soldier’s gaze is set. He will not stop until you arrive. You sense that you’re close to wherever he means to be. 

He curves around a final deep swerve in the road and through the trees, you spot a peaked roof. He slows as he approaches the facade. It’s entirely unlike the place you just left. The ground is smooth and undisturbed, a layer of snow carpeting cut by the treads of the tires as they crunch through. 

The wooden exterior is trimmed in white as the flakes continue to swirl down. The rich brown planks frame large windows that let in the winter haze. You stare in disbelief. It looks... normal. More than that, it is luxurious. 

You draw around the back of the house, down a crooked side path, and he steers behind a cluster of trees. The shifter cranks as the truck jerks to a stop. The soldier kills the motor and rips the keys from the ignition. 

He gets out first. You wait for him before you dare. He helps you down in the clunky boots he offered. They’re much too big but you expect it’s not unintentional. Your injured leg requires a bit of extra space. As you step off the metal ledge and into the snow, he tuts. 

Before you can stop him, he has you in your arms. The boots hang precariously from your ankles. He carries you toward the back of the house. The back deck is littered in more snow. The house is dark within but not ominous like the backwoods hideaway of before. 

He stops to unlock the door. Another keypad. You can tell it’s newly installed. You have no doubt he is well prepared. He did not choose this place by chance. 

He carries you inside, stopping to kick his boots on the mat. You crane to see through the nearest archway that peeks into a large kitchen. No corrosion, no dust, no dingy stains. He presses on and only stops to set you on a cushy sectional cast in shadows. 

His footsteps stalk away and a light flicks on above. The iron chandelier with its crisscross arms is set with small round bulbs that give a soft glow to the space. You peer around in awe and confusion. How did he find this place? 

He paces the edge of the room, as if inspecting. He goes the large fire place and opens a hidden panel in the white brick. He tweaks the controls and flames pop to life. You gasp. He shuts the cover and turns to you. He stares expectantly. 

You sit forward, “it’s nice.” 

His expression eases and he nods. His fingers unfurl and he takes another glance around. His steps turn listless. 

“The stuff... it needs to come in?” 

He holds up his hand and stops you. He wags his finger. You recline and give a shrug, “alright, I’ll stay.” 

He drops his hand then marches out. You peek after him then make a face. This is... odd. You can’t complain about the upgrade but it’s still very unnerving. How long will this last? How long until the next place? 

The back door opens and closes, several times between the clomping of his thick soles. He continues in and out until finally he twists the latch back audibly. You want to get up and see what he’s doing in the kitchen and between the shuffling and shifting. You’re a bit too tired for that and the prospect of standing makes your leg pulse. 

When he appears again, he traces a mop along the edge of the rug, then returns with a broom to dust off the carpet. His boots are gone. He’s settling in. 

When he finishes cleaning the mess he trailed in, he comes to take off your boots too. He carries them away then scoops you up altogether. You squeal as the sudden rise brings you out of your stupour. 

“Captain?” You eke out. He falters and look at you. His eyes skim away thoughtfully and he shakes his head. “Sorry.” 

He exhales and carries you out of the room. His cheek twitches as he thinks. You didn’t mean to upset him. You don’t know what else to call him. He takes you upstairs, pausing so you can flip on another light, then strides confidently to a doorway. Another switch flicked up. 

He angles you through the door and presents the ivory and teal tile. The large basin tub stands centerpiece to the space and a wall of mirrors reflect it. It’s a lifestyle magazine worthy room. He sets you gently onto the clamshell lid of the toilet. He steps back and points to the tub. 

“Oh, uh, yes, I do feel a bit grimy.” 

He crosses the room and taps the fluffy cotton towel on the bar. Then the gestures to the bath shelf with all the bottles and jars. You can’t help but brace for the boot to drop on your head. 

You get up gingerly and limp over to him. He shies away as you do. You reach for his jacket and he shakes his head, catching your hands. He clings to them for just a moment before he guides them to your dress. 

“Alone?” You ask. 

He nods. 

“Okay,” you slip free of his touch. You back away and turn to peer into the tub. You sway as the porcelain calls to you. A nice, clean bath. “Um,” you spin to face him as he heads for the door, “wait.” 

He stops in the frame and stiffly turns back. Your heart races as you search for the courage to ask. You remember the stories, the legends of what he once was. Maybe he’s still there. 

“Can I call you Steve?” 

He flinches as if you slapped him. You suck in air and cover your mouth. Oh no, you’ve gone too far. You stare at each other as he trembles slightly. He tilts his head as his hands fidget on his belt. 

He slowly raises his hand and taps his ear. You shake you’re head, confused. You lower your arms. “I’m sorry--” 

He stomps and tugs his lobe before gesture a beak with his hand. His eyes blaze at you. You twine your fingers through each other. “Steve.” 

His brows rise and he takes half a step before stopping himself. He nods. Pauses. Nods again. Then he just goes. He leaves you alone with the echo of his name.