And Y'know What? - Tumblr Posts

Trial run prompt thing: Does anyone get what I mean (in the way that I'm describing it or similarly) or does this sound strange?

It's nice to see someone articulate this actually, hence the fact that is is a reblog, of course.

(The thoughts of substance are in the tags, this time.)

does anyone feel the layer of plexiglass between themselves and the rest of the world or is that just a me thing

every part of you (I)

pairings (separately!) - diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, albedo, childe/tartaglia, zhongli x gender neutral reader

word count - 2887

genre - fluff, hurt/comfort

format - drabbles

warnings - SCARS, BLOOD MENTION IN CHILDE'S, skinship, crying, descriptions of self loathing, semi-nudity (lots of toplessness) with no sexual implications, descriptions of healed/fresh wounds and injuries

summary - his physical imperfections paint upon his body a plethora of tales, and you'd love to hear all of them

a/n - i've written something like this before but it was more centered on comforting the reader, so i decided to turn that idea on its head and have it going the other way around so it's the reader comforting the character since our boys deserve lots of love and care <3 xiao, kazuha, scaramouche, dainsleif, and thoma will be in the second part of this! :D

diluc—☆

he's always detested the softness of his skin for being able to be so easily marked. a body so fragile, so easily marred by the slightest of strains is no good for an eternal protector whose body acts as a shield for all of mondstat.

diluc looked upon his scars with bitter distaste that coursed throughout the expanse of his tongue. his gloves shield his hands and hid the many scrapes, bruises, and burns from when he was but a boy and still learning to wield his gift from the gods. from his neck downwards lay a battleground of reddened and charcoal scars, and patches of willowy, peached flames that spread out like angel wings across the span of his back.

oh, how he loathes his skin for being so permeable. every scar, every mark, and every blister that stains his body drags him under into a pool of undesirability; of weakness.

but he'll never understand how you're able to find such beauty in him.

your delicate hands gently caress his searing skin, taking the time to brush over each cavern, bruise, and dent that decorated his skin. up from his bare forearms, to his biceps, the palms of your hands gloss over his fiery skin in an unmistakable warmth that had him seeing twinkling stars looming high above his bedroom ceiling.

"you're so beautiful, 'luc, you know that?" you hum against his temple and send tingling sparks of electricity throughout his veins. his cheeks come alive and glow a color more furious and fevering that his crimson locks at your words, and his face finds solace buried in the crook of your neck.

his top half lay bare all for you to roam your eyes over with his permission, firm hands held you tight against his body on his lap where he did his best not to bounce his leg (a nervous habit of his). you lips perambulated across the vast expanse of his body: first to his pulsating heart, whose rate skyrocketed when you'd placed your plush lips upon the skin of the muscle. then, you grasp his hand within both of yours and peppered kisses to every visible scar that managed to catch your eyesight.

diluc has never felt such love, such warmth from a single person who looked at his imperfect body as if he were crafted by the gods themselves.

"beautiful hands..." you mumbled, your thumb running over his busted and bruised knuckles.

your lips continued onwards to his jaw, where the slight prickle of his stubble elicited a quiet giggle from your lips. then, to his forehead and eyelids, which fluttered shut and gave in to your sugary gestures. finally, you dove in head first and mended your lips against his. butterflies erupted in his stomach when your fingers reach around to skim up his scarred back, then tangle through his fiery locks.

he pulled away first, ruby eyes lidded and doused in affection, lips and cheeks ruddy and warm, and heart lit aflame and pounding in his ears. if he had stayed any longer he wasn't sure he could ever resurface from the tenderness of your love.

you cupped his cheek and pressed your forehead against his so there was no way he could burrow back underneath his thick layers of charcoal cloth and hide any more.

"these hands," you start, picking up both of his calloused, scarred hands within your own, "have protected so many. and these hands belong to the person who is worthy of the love he holds for so many people, myself included."

perhaps the scars that decorated his body weren't a sign of weakness at all, and with that thought diluc allowed himself to submerge beneath your arms and thank you without words.

more characters utc!

kaeya—☆

behind all the glittery layers of charm and many facades that he poses, kaeya alberich is really only a vessel; a shell of a man containing the burning hopes of those long lost to carnage. but he keeps well hidden a room, locked away tight and secure in his mind, that contains a desire he loathes: a desire to be loved, not as khaenri'ah's last hope, nor as the ever-so-charming cavalry captain. just kaeya as he is, but he realized early on in his life that such desire were petty, foreign, and will never come into fruition.

that is until he met you.

and now he found himself tugging the periwinkle fabric of his shirt over his head. his lips part to make a flirtatious comment at the awe laced in your irises, but it seems that even his well crafted persona of so many years could deteriorate within your presence. your nimble fingers helped him slip the garment off from his head, and he made no move to stop your hands from wandering the span of his marred body.

he wasn't sure what compelled him to shed his layers, both physical and metaphorical, and let you peek beneath his treacherous tides. and as your brows furrow as your fingertips connect with a certain patch of willowy, burnt skin leading up from his sides and stretching around to his back, he begins to feel the slight tug of regret crawl up the back of his neck. he's aware of how unpleasant the wounds are to look at, but they are reluctantly a part of him; a part that he wants to share with you.

imagine his surprise when your lips began to dot kisses across the burnt skin, and your hushed voice mumbled "beautiful," without hesitation.

kaeya convinced himself he hadn't heard you right, but as you ushered him to sit down on a nearby chair and settled onto his lap, it was all you could say.

"beautiful," you hummed against his jugular and peppered kisses up towards his cheek.

"beautiful," you mused as your fingers carded through his silky hair and tugged his locks free of the deep, ocean blue ribbon that held them in place.

"beautiful," you coo as your fingers traced the outer shell of his silken covered charcoal eyepatch.

beautiful, is all he can hear: it's a word that foreign in his chest and rattles around his skull like a ping pong ball. he doesn't even realize he's trembling all over until you grasp his hand within your own and nuzzle the softness of your cheek into his palm.

there was no denying himself to you any longer, and though the demons that took up rent in his mind begged him not to, his slender fingers found the buckle of his eyepatch and let it fall from his face and tumble to the ground below.

a sclera the color of midnight and a star-shaped pupil drenched in gold peered back at you. he shut his eyes in an icy, biting fear and burrowed his face into the soft warmth of your shoulder. his arms wound tight around your waist, tremoring with what you could only assume was fear.

"hey, look at me." you ushered gently and pried his face away from your neck.

like a work of art, you studied him: everything from his beautiful eyes, filled with sparkling constellations and supernovae of fear and hesitation, to the lines of his face, soft and hard, then to his warbling lips.

"you don't need to hide anymore, kaeya."

it was as if your words had released him from a life-long prison of his own self containment and with only a gentle stroke of his hair, he crumbles in your arms and lets himself be reminded over and over again with the soft lilt of your voice.

"you are worthy,"

"you are loved,"

"you are beautiful."

albedo—☆

albedo is like a piece of fine art: beautiful from afar, and even more intricate up close. peer into his eyes and you can see each brush stroke, each dot of cerulean oiled paint, and each heartfelt choice of color where his eyes glowed from a bright, baby blue to an oceanic azure.

but that's all albedo convinced himself he is: fine art, an empty vessel that appears pretty to others but holds within it no sign of life, no beating heart. where flesh meets broiling blood in most, he is crafted of frosted chalk, and plumes of violet smoke that are kept well concealed beneath his ivory skin. he existed much like a porcelain doll: one you'd find peering through the faded window of an antiquity store. forgotten, with no purpose.

so why was it that you looked at him so fondly; as if he were a gleaming cecilia that bloomed with life?

on your sides, tender grass cradled your intertwined bodies under the setting sun. gentle fingers carded through his ashen locks, free of their braided bounds and left to flow like silky water through your hands. your eyes then traversed onto his snowy skin, where a land of frozen-over, patchy scars of frost burn, and bursts of colors lay near the hinges of his elbows where klee had painted his skin in pigments of bright crimson and vivid violet.

your hands detangled themselves from his locks and caressed downwards to his supple cheeks; warm and rosy underneath your palms. beneath his eyelids lay crystalized gems of glimmering ice, encased within his face for you to admire with a smile bathed in mirth and the gentle pad of your thumb.

traversing downwards lay his chest covered in only a thin, flowing shirt that hung from his tender skin and engulfed his body in billowing silk. his heart fluttered under your touch; pulse skyrocketing as you drew his slender hand and placed it over top of your own heart.

"do you feel that, albedo?"

he does, in fact, feel it. the tingles that each pulse sends throughout his body, the manner in which the dormant butterflies in his stomach come to life with every one of your gentle touches; he felt it all.

"if by "it", you are referring to your heartbeat, then yes, my flower." he hoped that the breathy laugh that draped his response would be enough to mask the red blotch of warmth across his cheeks.

"mhm, and yours feels so nice. it's like a gentle song."

albedo stews in your words and lets the bits of his soul that he'd locked away be bathed in the warmth of your love. a doll could never love you the way he did, and his undeniable love for you was the most prized and human thing about him.

childe—☆

stormy vessels of dark emptiness are all he's able to recall now.

memories of teeth-grinding pain so bitter and vile, if he slipped unconscious long enough he'd still be able to taste the familiar yet foreign tang of blood on his tongue. memories of lulling himself to sleep amidst bloodshed and carnage with the hum of his mother's lullabies; even an hour of rest would be more than enough. he's a creature of madness, one who succumbed to the dark tendrils of the abyss.

but beyond that, he's the son of an ordinary snezhnayan woman who would let him lick the spoon while she made batches of sweet cakes; born to a father who loved to guide him by the hand to the icy lakes and cast lines in hopes of bringing home monstrous sea creatures, or a bass or two for dinner; eldest brother of three rascals whom he'd sacrifice his life for.

and, your lover.

you who looked upon him with such fondness and affection that reminded him of the days bathed in gold when he'd not known of the icy terrors of the abyss. the little hesitance that restrained his wrists from sinking further into your embrace dissipated into silvery glitter and mingled with the wind as he unbuttoned the maroon shirt from his body. the silky fabric fell to the wood of your bedroom floor and left his upper half exposed in all of its scarred and marred glory.

across his body lay wounds that had wept with his very human blood and were now sealed over by time; others, not so much. your hands tentatively ran over the fresh, snowy bandages that concealed a portion of his bicep; new blood had begun to soak the fabric and blotched it a bright crimson.

"i promise it doesn't hurt as much as you think it does, angel." he chuckled and swiped away a stray tear from your face with the pad of his thumb.

your hands trailed over the vast marks that covered his body like shining sequins on a fluttering dress. almost like a starry night sky, there existed a story for each faded line or jagged scar on his peachy skin. the one that appeared like a lightning bolt? he kissed your cheek with a smile and mumbled something about treasure hoarders. the jagged marks that clawed down his back? wild dogs surely were quite the hassle, but he was able to fight them off and come back victorious as your strong and courageous warrior, he recounted with a joking smile.

but when your hands grazed over a certain harrowing gash that ran from the small of his back up to the nape of his neck, his body seized up and clamped shut like an iron fortress, much to your chagrin. but you knew how to let him release; to lower the guards he'd so vigorously trained himself to adhere to. your lips perambulated across each constellation on his body, up from his pelvis up to his bobbing adam's apple, where remnants of his stubble prickled against your skin. your hands cupped his face and smushed his youthful cheeks within your airy grip. across his cheeks like a valley of freckles dusted over in a light, rosy color.

and blue; so much blue. just a moment too long and you found yourself drifting amongst calm, gentle waves the color of a beautiful, clear sky. an inhale and you'd smell the calming scent of spice and a woodsy fragrance that sent your heart alight. for a monster who's experienced hell and its nine circles, the heart that thundered under the softness of his skin could deny no longer the thriving humanity he sought for. the peace, the solace that you brought was all he ever wished for.

and as you embraced him once more, the familiar hum of his mother's lullabies found their way hummed past his parted lips, turned upwards into a smile as his arms wrapped around your waist and begun to gently sway you to an invisible beat.

if he truly were a monster, then monstrosity must be a very tender and supple thing, fickle to none and loyal to all, especially you.

zhongli—☆

of all the forms he'd previously taken, the body of a mortal was the most curious among the bunch.

it bent and flexed, dipped under and over, scarred and marred itself and constantly dipped itself in a sea of uncertainty where one wrong move meant an lifetime bearing an engravement on flesh.

but, for zhongli at least, among the plethora of deep gashes and thistled wounds that bloomed like angel wings and crept down towards the small of his back, there was a faint pulsation of remembrance. a scar in the shape of a sickle brought forth a surge of churning memories be they pleasant or vile. or the click of his elbow as he bent and flexed it reminded him of the moment he first heard the grotesque noise from deep within his mortal vessel. with every passing day, his memory failed him again, and again, and again, until he was left to rely on the tales imprinted on his body as a reminder to never, ever forget.

most of all, zhongli felt the tremble of the earth from deep within the pads of his obsidian palms, streaked with glimmering, golden lines of thrumming geo energy.

just how many had felt the wrath laced within the grooves and dips of his hand? calloused fingerpads and indented joints told tales of a bloody, bronze weapon that dripped with blood and broken contracts; marred in the wrath of the lord of geo himself. a true monster.

but look no further than where your gaze laid siege against his seemingly impermeable stance.

with such fondness, affection, and unwavering devotion, the tips of your fingers first traced over the scars that decorated his bare torso, before sliding down to his pulsing hands, where your tender thumbs traced over his hardened skin.

"you're so beautiful..." your voice danced a breathy cadence, lighter than the flap of a butterfly's wings as you traced your hands upwards, closer and closer till your nose brushed against his and your eyes were filled with the honeyed color of gold.

it was almost as though you could peek past the folds of his brain and uncover his most hidden thoughts. as eloquent a man as zhongli was, there was no use denying the sheen of water hidden beneath his eyes as your lips began to cover the many scars on his hands and neck.

there was no use in clinging to his godliness when your love was far above any kind of devotion, and he needed no scars nor clicks in his joints to remember the gentleness of your smile or warmth of your body.

date published: november 19th, 2021

3D modelling final very loosely based on the Land of the Lotus Eaters from the Odyssey

You guys have all said so many nice things, I am not equipped to handle so much love lol. Your kind comments and asks are genuinely so touching, and it’s drowning out the one mean thing someone said.

I don’t have much enthusiasm right now and my brain can’t come up with the right words, so just:

🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕🥰🥰🥰💜💜💜💜💜🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂✨✨✨✨✨🥹🥹🥹🥹