🌻 I am a very!! sex-repulsed asexual but I love a good sickfic (or allergy fic) and so that’s why I’m here. Maybe that’s weird but y’all seem chill with aces so idk
🌻 old enough to know basic internet safety like not giving away your age but I also know some people are uncomfortable with completely ageless blogs so I am 18+
🌻 this is my own personal void to yeet my doodles and drabbles
🌻 said doodles/drabbles will very likely all be Gen/shin im/pact, specifically Al/bedo and Kae/ya, and especially Kae/bedo
🌻 gonna be mostly(or entirely) sfw but still minors don’t interact. I beg of you
🌻I am not the most social and might not talk a lot bc of anxiety but positive interaction is always appreciated
If you chose to pick fruit in the La/uma snzfic, here’s your ending! Relationships are open to interpretation (aka this was not intended as ship but like they’re both adults you can ship em if you wanna)
Gathering fruit, Lauma determines, is the best option. There’s not many people out where the best fruits grow, so she can sneeze as much as she’d like, and being out in nature should help her cold.
So she’d think, anyway.
She’s trembling as she picks the fruits, her arms aching from holding the basket and from reaching over her head. The frigid winds send goosebumps all over her skin, and when she sneezes, some of her fruits fall from the basket, slowing her progress immensely.
She slowly fills two baskets, and is halfway through the third when she remembers that today she was supposed to go and check on Kuutar, and make sure her Moon Maiden had everything she needs.
She takes her half filled basket with her, too tired to put it with the others or to go and fetch other foods for Kuutar. These apples are fresh and ripe and sweet; they will make a fine treat for her.
Lauma is shivering uncontrollably by the time she reaches Silvermoon hall, sneezing every few steps. She catches each sneeze with one hand, but her antlers make her almost lose her balance each time.
“Kuutar?” She calls softly, stepping onto the lush carpet of flowers. Her voice scrapes over her throat and she coughs.
There is no answer, which is not uncommon, so she continues walking. Her nose tickles as she makes her way through the cavern, and as much as she tries to hold it back, a sneeze bursts out of her, echoing off the walls.
“HhhHH’ehtcHUUU!”
“Bless you.” The musical voice speaks from beside her, Columbina appearing at her side.
“Oh!” Lauma jumps a bit, nearly stumbling as her head tips to the side once more. “Kuutar. You startled me.”
“I’m sorry.” Columbina tilts her head to the side a bit. “Is that not what one says when another sneezes?”
“No, it is.” Lauma sniffles into the back of her wrist. “I just… didn’t see you co— Aaeshuu!“
“Bless you again.” Columbina hesitates. “Are you alright, Lauma?”
“Thank you. I am fine.” Lauma tries not to sniffle again. She holds out her offering for Columbina to take. “I brought you some fruit. It is freshly picked, and should be delicious.”
“Hm…” Columbina’s brows furrowed slightly. Her expressions are hard to read with her eyes closed and behind that blindfold, but she appears to be thinking deeply.
“Thank you,” she says at last, one hand roving slowly over the basket to choose an apple. “Everything you have brought me so far has been quite a novel experience. I only…”
She trails off, and Lauma’s heart leaps. Was Kuutar about to make a request?
The reborn Moon goddess has been withdrawn and quiet this whole time, thanking Lauma for the things she brings, but never saying anything when asked if there is anything else she could want. She will only hum thoughtfully, a meloncholic look on her face that tells Lauma there is much she longs for, but nothing she feels comfortable to say.
“If there’s something else I could bring you, Kuutar,” she says encouragingly. “I would be more than happy to… hheh… hhEHH— Hhhe’shtuu! … to fetch it.”
Columbia shakes her head slightly. “It’s… less of something to get, and more something to do.” She holds out one hand, extending her fingers in an open gesture. “Would you stay and keep me company for a bit, Lauma? The khuehenki are friendly, but even they come and go like the wind.”
Lauma actually hesitates for a moment, worrying about all her other chores and duties. But, when it comes down to it, is she not the leader of the Moon’s religion, the head priestess of Kuutar herself?
“Of course, Kuutar,” she says sincerely. She places her hand in the moon goddess’s.
Columbina smiles.
As Lauma steps forward, the weight on her head suddenly increases, her antlers growing in the light of the moon goddess’s khuvaki. Tired as she is, Lauma can’t hold her chin up.
Lauma brings one hand up to try to balance herself, holding her head up. The sudden motion has made her really dizzy.
Then, a cool touch settles on her shoulder. “Lauma?”
“I— I’m alright,” Lauma says, embarrassed. “It’s just… the khuuvaki… my antlers are quite heavy today.”
“Oh.” Columbina is silent for a moment. Then, she stretches up on her tiptoes, touching a fingertip to Lauma’s antlers.
There’s a soft hum, and slowly the overwhelming sense of energy fades, Lauma’s antlers settling back into their usual size.
Lauma lets her head rest in her hands a moment longer, letting out a sigh of relief. “How…? eeH’shh! …How did you do that?”
“Bless you.” Columbina withdraws her hand, taking the moonlight with her. “I simply drew the khuuvaki towards myself, instead of letting it flow around you. Just as I can focus it to go out, I can also bring it back in.”
As if to demonstrate, she holds up a small, swirling orb of silver-blue energy. Even with it contained in the palm of her hand, Lauma can feel the khuuvaki energy radiating from it.
“Snf… Amazing, Kuutar.”
Columbina does not answer, occupied by guiding the khuuvaki with a wave of her hand. Swirling trails spread from her palm, the moon’s energy fading off into the fathermost corners of Silvermoon hall.
“There,” she says softly. “That should keep your antlers from growing too much while you are here. Provided you stay towards the center, anyway.”
“You have my thanks.” Lauma risks lifting her head again, and is punished for it with another wave of dizziness and a splitting headache. “Oh… I…”
Columbina catches her arm as she stumbles, slowly guiding her across the flowery field. “If your head is still too heavy, why not lay it down for a while?”
She leads Lauma to the silver moon carvings she likes to sit on, and kneels with her back on the stone. “While I don’t have any need for pillows here besides the grass, my lap is one that I can offer to you.”
Who is Lauma, really, to deny the wishes of her goddess?
And the idea of laying down sounds so, so good right now…
“If you are sure you’re alright with it,” she says slowly, lowering herself into the soft grass. “Then I suppose that for a short while…”
Columbina nods once as Lauma lays down. She shifts so that the sharp tips of her antlers hang in the wait, Lauma’s head cushioned in her lap. One hand rests beside Lauma’s antlers, sitting still yet comforting over her hair.
Perhaps it isn’t entirely selfish to choose to stay here, where the cold wind only howls outside, as if nothing but a lullaby.
Or, perhaps, even if it is, it’s alright.
Despite telling herself that it’s only for a moment, within minutes, Lauma drifts off to sleep in Columbina’s lap.
Columbina smiles, listening to Lauma’s quiet breathing, slow and even as she rests at last.
Now hear me out. I came up with this fun headcanon for al/bedo through roleplay.
Sneezing is generally considered impolite. And as silly as al/bedo is, he does strive to be polite. Although in rather orthodox ways.
Cue my headcanon. If he’s having a conversation, and he feels the urge to sneeze, he will just… stop. And wait for it to pass. Like he’ll be talking to you, and in the middle of a sentence, he’ll stop, shut his eyes, and just… wait. In silence.
Maybe he’ll think it’s gone and try to keep speaking. Maybe it will be gone by then. Maybe it won’t. Maybe he gets out three words and a gasp and then retreats right back into silence.
Maybe it takes a full five to ten minutes for him to finish his sentence. 😭
Cue Ka/eya. I imagine he’s a little confused the first time he experiences this.
“Oh? Cat got your tongue?”
Tilts his head.
“Or maybe your nose.”
The first few times, he finds it endearing, maybe teases a little.
Then he gets used to it. When they’re alone, he’s patient and charming. They’ll be chatting, and Alb/edo goes into silence. It takes Ka/eya maybe a second or two to realize before he pats his shoulder and gets up.
“I’ll go get us another round. Let yourself loose, I’m not listening.”
He only catches the very beginning of a rather desperate gasp as he exits the scene.
Sometimes when he’s feeling a little playful, he’ll jokingly try to finish Al/bedo’s sentences.
Al/bedo: “[...]Will soon report back from a mission, accompanied by….”
Kae/ya: “....Yes?”
Al/bedo: “.....”
Kae/ya: “Oh, I see. Gonna make me guess, are we?”
Al/bedo: *still silent.*
Kae/ya: “Let’s see…. Accompanied by…. A fellow knight? ….Their fiance? …The anemo archon himself…? A fluffy little cat?”
Al/bedo: “hh--?”
Kae/ya: “Ooh, your nose didn’t like that one. Was it the word fluffy?”
Al/bedo: “hih-!”
Kae/ya: “I tease, I tease. Hmm… what else could it be… drum the table if I’m getting close.”
And then there’s the times they’re not alone. Maybe they’re doing knight business, and Ka/eya notices Al/bedo’s familiar quirk. By now he knows better than to call him out, and quickly picks up the conversation for him. Usually the urge passes after a few minutes.
There’s the rare occasion when it doesn’t.
It’s been maybe half an hour and Alb/edo’s spoken maybe a total of two minutes. K/aeya doesn’t mind chatting for him, but he can see the alchemist’s nose growing pinker by the second, to the point where it’s less charming and more miserable. What’s usually a stray tickle that passes within a few minutes seems to be either an awful cold or a pretty persistent irritant.
“Allow me a moment to speak with my colleague,” K/aeya would say, and pulls Al/bedo aside.
Alb/edo: “I can’t--”
K/aeya: “Hush.”
And he fishes out a handkerchief, cupping a hand to the back of Al/bedo’s blonde head and pulling him in, hunching over him to keep the sight contained.
Ka/eya: “You’re not rude right now. Let it all out. Your poor nose has been begging all evening.” He pinches the handkerchief to Albe/do’s nose. “I’ll catch the sound. Let it all go, dear alchemist.”
Idk what possessed me, I have had very little interest in Lau/ma in the past but suddenly I wrote a choose your own end snzfic for her
Disclaimer real fast I have not finished most of the No/dKr/ai archon quests so my knowledge of the setting and the characters may not be fully accurate
Lauma has no choice other than to admit it now.
She’s catching a cold.
It started sometime yesterday evening, when the chill of Nod Krai’s evening winds got to her, making her shiver even though she usually withstood them just fine. She was more tired than usual too, having had a long week of running around and fulfilling her duties as Moonchanter, as well as keeping watch over her animal friends. She was starting to feel a bit achy in her antlers and… well, everywhere.
Despite her exhausted state, and her desire to just fall into bed and stay there, she’d been up until almost midnight helping one of the scions find a lost family heirloom. On her way back, she’d been stopped by a lost adventurer, two different squirrels, and a perturbed puffin. At last, she finally did manage to reach her hit and crawl under the covers, only to be awoken mere hours later by arguing birds.
Lauma sniffles, her nose twitching and tickling. She sits up slowly, pulling the covers with her. She’s freezing, even with the thick, handwoven blanket she made herself. There’s a dull ache in the back of her head, her throat feels like sandpaper, and her nose is… so… itchy…
“Hh- hhhH— aaahh’shooo!”
The birds on her windowsill scatter, startled by the sudden sneeze. Lauma sniffles, then pitches forward into her blankets once more.
“Hhhh—! Heh’shishhh! Ahhhe’ESHhh! hhHih’iiish!”
A chill runs through her and she shudders, hugging herself. Her head rests on her knees, her antlers suddenly three times as heavy as usual.
With her natural alignment with kuuhvahki, Lauma rarely falls ill. Each time, she forgets just how cold and exhausted it makes her feel.
Normally, she delights in helping her flock, finding joy and purpose in their smiles and their thanks. But today, she feels groggy and lethargic, not wanting to get up at all.
Lauma instantly feels guilty. Her people depend on her for so much. How can she stop for a stuffy nose?
“Ah… aahheH’chu! Hhh’shiew!”
… A very stuffy nose.
After taking several minutes to sniffle and sneeze, the guilt finally outweighs her desire to sleep, and Lauma drags herself out of bed. She makes herself a cup of warm herbal tea, and stares at her clothes, debating what to wear.
That fur-lined cloak Sir Flins once brought her is beyond tempting, it looks so soft and warm… but it is certainly out of place with her moonchanter’s robes, and people would notice.
She settles for a compromise and wraps herself in a dress that isn’t as exposed to the cold air as her usual robes, but still is elegant enough that no questions will be raised.
She steps outside, shivering as the cold air hits her skin. Perhaps even this dress isn’t warm enough, but it’s too late now. There’s already a little fox scampering up to her, complaining about a pesky seagull.
Lauma crouches down to meet it, setting one hand on the ground to steady herself when it makes her head spin. “What seems to be the trouble, little one?”
After a lengthy back-and-forth, she finally settles their spat, and the two creatures depart. One of the seagull’s feathers spirals down as it flies away, landing on the tip of Lauma’s already sensitive nose.
“Ahh… ahH— AH—! AAASHHHOO!”
Lauma sniffles and rubs her nose, blinking tiredly. She pushes on, heading to begin the morning prayers.
She manages to only sneeze twice while leading the worship, although the tickle in her throat has grown into a bit of a cough by the time she finishes. She’s relieved when it’s over, the Frostmoon Scions dispersing to go about their days.
Most of them, anyway. Several head right for the Lady Moonchanter; there is no shortage of tasks for her today.
Lauma listens to each of them the best she can, trying hard to pay attention and store the information in her soupy brain. It gets more and more difficult as the itch in her nose returns, growing stronger by the second.
“Hhheh… hhh….”
Lauma tries to hold it back, but it’s too strong. Her breath catches, chest hitching as one of the scions speaks.
Lauma cups her hands to catch her sneeze, trying not to poke anyone’s eyes with her antlers. The tickle doesn’t dissipate, but she’s already made quite a fuss, so she wrinkles her nose and wills it not to act up again.
“My… Hh… my apologies.” She places one hand on her chest to regain her composure, smiling apologetically at those watching. She sniffles softly, trying not to make it very loud. “I seem to have lost my composure. Where were we?”
By some miracle, she manages not to sneeze again through the rest of the conversation. It’s only after she has received every grievance that she slips behind the statue and lets out the fit that’s been tormenting her.
Lauma stumbles, steadying herself with one hand on the statue. Her antlers tip, and she follows the gravity, resting her forehead on the cool stone.
If only she could just sit down… rest here…. That would be nice… despite the chills wracking her body, the smooth, cold surface of the statue feels nice on her too-warm skin.
But she is a Moonchanter. She has duties to attend to.
Lauma decides to give herself three minutes leaning on the statue, during which she will plan out what order to do her tasks. Then, she will actually do them.
To start, she could either gather fruit, deliver a correspondence to the Ratniki about Wild Hunt movements, or settle a dispute between the Scions who give out meals in Nasha Town and some rowdy merchants.
Which one for a sick Moonchanter to do? (Hint: what she does will affect which character she meets)
Pick fruit
Deliver letter
Settle feud
Voting ended onJul 1
All relationships in the endings are open to interpretation!
The endings will be posted in whatever order I finish writing them in; the poll is just for fun
Now hear me out. I came up with this fun headcanon for al/bedo through roleplay.
Sneezing is generally considered impolite. And as silly as al/bedo is, he does strive to be polite. Although in rather orthodox ways.
Cue my headcanon. If he’s having a conversation, and he feels the urge to sneeze, he will just… stop. And wait for it to pass. Like he’ll be talking to you, and in the middle of a sentence, he’ll stop, shut his eyes, and just… wait. In silence.
Maybe he’ll think it’s gone and try to keep speaking. Maybe it will be gone by then. Maybe it won’t. Maybe he gets out three words and a gasp and then retreats right back into silence.
Maybe it takes a full five to ten minutes for him to finish his sentence. 😭
Cue Ka/eya. I imagine he’s a little confused the first time he experiences this.
“Oh? Cat got your tongue?”
Tilts his head.
“Or maybe your nose.”
The first few times, he finds it endearing, maybe teases a little.
Then he gets used to it. When they’re alone, he’s patient and charming. They’ll be chatting, and Alb/edo goes into silence. It takes Ka/eya maybe a second or two to realize before he pats his shoulder and gets up.
“I’ll go get us another round. Let yourself loose, I’m not listening.”
He only catches the very beginning of a rather desperate gasp as he exits the scene.
Sometimes when he’s feeling a little playful, he’ll jokingly try to finish Al/bedo’s sentences.
Al/bedo: “[...]Will soon report back from a mission, accompanied by….”
Kae/ya: “....Yes?”
Al/bedo: “.....”
Kae/ya: “Oh, I see. Gonna make me guess, are we?”
Al/bedo: *still silent.*
Kae/ya: “Let’s see…. Accompanied by…. A fellow knight? ….Their fiance? …The anemo archon himself…? A fluffy little cat?”
Al/bedo: “hh--?”
Kae/ya: “Ooh, your nose didn’t like that one. Was it the word fluffy?”
Al/bedo: “hih-!”
Kae/ya: “I tease, I tease. Hmm… what else could it be… drum the table if I’m getting close.”
And then there’s the times they’re not alone. Maybe they’re doing knight business, and Ka/eya notices Al/bedo’s familiar quirk. By now he knows better than to call him out, and quickly picks up the conversation for him. Usually the urge passes after a few minutes.
There’s the rare occasion when it doesn’t.
It’s been maybe half an hour and Alb/edo’s spoken maybe a total of two minutes. K/aeya doesn’t mind chatting for him, but he can see the alchemist’s nose growing pinker by the second, to the point where it’s less charming and more miserable. What’s usually a stray tickle that passes within a few minutes seems to be either an awful cold or a pretty persistent irritant.
“Allow me a moment to speak with my colleague,” K/aeya would say, and pulls Al/bedo aside.
Alb/edo: “I can’t--”
K/aeya: “Hush.”
And he fishes out a handkerchief, cupping a hand to the back of Al/bedo’s blonde head and pulling him in, hunching over him to keep the sight contained.
Ka/eya: “You’re not rude right now. Let it all out. Your poor nose has been begging all evening.” He pinches the handkerchief to Albe/do’s nose. “I’ll catch the sound. Let it all go, dear alchemist.”
Okay so yknow how there’s like head colds and chest colds and whatnot and colds for various body parts
And yknow how visions have been described as being an extension of the user’s body? (I think it was Kae/ya who compared it to his eye? Or smth like that)
So: vision colds.
Only vision bearers can catch them, and they’re passed through exposure to an infected vision’s elemental power. Keeping vision usage to a minimum helps reduce spreading, but-
A symptom of the sickeness is loss of control over a vision’s power.
It varies depending on the person and the severity of the illness; sometimes they lose control completely, sometimes they simply can’t use it, but most commonly, their control is weakened and the powers flare when they sneeze. And they sneeze a lot during this time because they’re sick
Pyro users sneezing flames. Cryo users sneezing little flurries of snow. Geo constructs sprouting from nearby surfaces when geo users sneeze. Plants popping up for dendro users, gusts of wind sweeping in around anemo. Lightning crackling around electro and sudden waterworks for hydro users.
Other symptoms include
- fatigue
- dizziness
- light (sometimes) fever
- cough
- headache
And then specific symptoms for different elements as the vision works against them
Pyro: much higher fever. Most vision colds are not a medical emergency unless they fester too long, but pyro users have the most danger because of how fast and how high their temperature can rise
Cryo: chills, but like really bad chills. A lot of shaking, and probably the sneeziest element
Anemo: an even worse cough, sometimes trouble breathing
Geo: fatigue is worse, as well as getting stiffness and soreness all over. Many afflicted have described it as feeling like they’ve been turned to stone
Dendro: brain fog and dizziness. Everyone is a little out of it when they’re sick, but dendro users become delirious very quickly when coming down with vision colds, even if their fever isn’t very high. Also, the headache is probably a lot worse
Electro: hmm I’m not really sure. Maybe a horrible sore throat? Cough could be worse too, although not as bad as anemo. Maybe vision colds cause most electro users to lose their voices for a while
Hydro: sweating? I dunno
Anywayyyy so that’s my pitch for a genre of gen/shin snzfics/sickfics. Ooooh you wanna write/draw this soooo bad (spinning a giant red and white swirl in front of you) you wanna make sickfic content, especially of al/bedooooo
Beidou had a sneaking suspicion that there was something wrong.
Kazuha was, normally, one of the early risers on the ship. Typically, Beidou could find him in the early morning hours sitting on top of some crates and watching the sunrise, or helping out with some of the early tasks around the ship.
Not finding him up and about that morning hadn't necessairly rang any alarm bells. Not everyone stuck to the same routine daily after all, she might have just not passed through any areas that he was in, or maybe he had decided to spend the early morning hours in his cabin for once.
And yet, hours continued to tick by, and she hadn't spotted him up and about anywhere around the ship even once. Not even in the kitchen to pick up his usually small amount of breakfast.
By the time the sun had reached it's highest point in the sky, there had still been no sign of Kazuha, and Beidou was officially worried.
…She did have a theory though.
There had been quite the nasty cold going around the ship the past couple of weeks… it seemed like everyone had taken turns getting sick.
Everyone except for Kazuha.
He had helped deal with the sick crewmates despite some of their protests, insisting that he had a strong immune system and that this wasn't likely to impact him. Some had doubted him a little bit, but most had accepted that it was unlikely that he would get ill.
Well, Beidou liked to think that she had a strong immune system as well.
And considering she had just recovered from her own bout of illness a few days ago…
Beidou knocked on the door to Kazuha's cabin. There was no response other than what seemed to be the sound of startled shuffling… as well as a few quietly muffled coughs, which she definitely would not have heard had she not been attentively listening for exactly that.
Well, that proved that theory then.
For one thing, normally Kazuha could tell when she was approaching long before she actually knocked on his door. The number of times he'd opened the door before her knuckles could touch the wood was, in fact, higher than the number of times she had actually managed to knock. So for him to have presumably not noticed her approach? That definitely pointed to something being wrong, and in this case; Kazuha had most certainly gotten sick.
She gave one more knock, just to see if he'd let her in on his own, but when yet again no response came, she sighed and opened the door anyways.
The first thing she noticed was Kazuha standing in the middle of the room, looking a bit like he'd frozen mid-step. Ah, so he had been on his way to the door, she'd just been too impatient. Oh well, it didn't really matter now.
The second thing she noticed was that he was only partially dressed. It was like he had woken up, started getting ready, and then just given up midway through. Not even his hair was tied up the way it usually was.
The third thing she noticed was how absolutely miserable he looked.
"Jeez, you look like death warmed over." She said, and before Kazuha could protest, "Sit back down, I don't want you collapsing on me."
Kazuha, thankfully, listened to her and sat down on the edge of his bed.
"My apologies for worrying you." He said, and man, he sounded even worse than he looked. "I only intended to lay back down for a short while before helping…"
…And evidently as soon as he had, he had fallen asleep again until she had woken him up.
"The ship can survive a day or two without you." Beidou said, "I figured you might've gotten sick, it seems like this one could take down a vishap if it tried."
Kazuha let out a breathy chuckle- that quickly devolved into a series of rough sounding coughs. Beidou winced. She should've thought ahead a bit more and brought some soup and tea with her… Oh well. She'd just have to make sure he got a healthy portion of food later in the day. Many of the others had mostly lost their appetite while sick, and Kazuha didn't tend to eat much in the first place, so Beidou would have to personally ensure it.
Still though, she wasn't going to just stand there while a member of her crew sounded so miserable, so she sat down beside him and gently rubbed at his back until the coughing fit came to an end.
"S-sorry…" Kazuha wheezed out, his voice sounding rough and almost breathless. Beidou patted his back gently, but didn't try and argue against his apologizing. She would never get anywhere with that.
"How about you lay back down again." She said, and Kazuha was either compliant enough or exhausted enough to follow her instructions. "I'm going to go get you some soup."
~
By the time Beidou had returned, Kazuha was sitting back up again, and, for some reason, the room was significantly more of a mess than it had been when she left. She raised an eyebrow at that, stepping overtop of some objects strewn across the floor that had definitely not been there previously. She was certain the ship hadn't hit any sort of sudden swell… He better not have been straining himself, though she couldn't imagine what reason he could possibly have for throwing some of the various knicknacks that were usually on his shelves all over the floor.
"Ready to eat?" She asked, setting the tray she had brought with her down on the table. Kazuha glanced at her, then the bowl, then glanced away for a second, before he silently nodded. Odd. Maybe his throat was hurting him more than he had let on earlier.
The bowl of soup was gently placed into Kazuha's hands, and Beidou sat down on the edge of the bed, intending just to make sure he ate at least enough of it to meet her standards of a healthy amount.
Only, somewhere between the 10th and the 11th spoonfull, Kazuha suddenly paused. And put his spoon down. And suddenly, rather hurriedly, held the bowl out towards Beidou.
"Please h-hold this for a moment." He said, and yeesh, his voice did sound rougher than before. Out of curiosity more than anything, Beidou took the bowl out of his hands, and as soon as she did-
"Hhh…hK'TShh!" Kazuha doubled over, sneezing into his elbow. "HhiH'SHhi! 'Ttsh! hhAH'KShh!!"
A rather strong breeze swept through the room, rolling the objects on the floor around (Beidou supposed this explained why they were even there in the first place), and blowing her hair about. She had to quickly adjust her grip on the bowl to prevent any soup from spilling over, and she was suddenly very glad Kazuha had had the forethought to hand it over to her.
(It was somewhat worrying that he didn't seem to be attempting to stifle… usually he would try to keep his sneezing as contained as possible, even when ill. She was glad she wouldn't have to force him to stop making himself more miserable, but it did also imply that this illness was hitting him much harder than she had previously thought).
Unfortunately, it didn't seem as though Kazuha was going to stop sneezing any time soon.
"Hh… hihH… hH-" Unless one happened to get stuck, of course. Beidou watched patiently for a moment, waiting for him to either finally sneeze or for the hitching breaths to cease, only for neither to occur. After a second, a memory came to the forefront of her mind, of Kazuha once claiming that his nose occassionally got 'stagefright'. She had assumed it was just him making a silly excuse as for why he tended to leave the room to sneeze by himself (due to what she'd concluded was a mixture of politeness and embarrassment), but…
Beidou looked away from him.
"haH'SHhhi!" One sneeze quickly devolved into another. "Hhh'TSHhh- 'tsh 'SHh- hH'SHhhi! hAhH'KSHh!!"
Beidou stared silently at a wall, waiting patiently until all that was left was the sound of Kazuha sniffling, at which point she silently held out the soup bowl back towards him. It was only after he carefully took it out of her hands that she stood up.
She figured he wouldn't want her commenting on it, so instead she silently went and hunted down the tissue box that had ended up on the floor on the other side of the room, bringing it back over to him.
He only lightly dabbed at his nose, which Beidou thought was fairly useless, and at one point stifled another sneeze handful of sneezes into a handful of tissues, but other than that, the rest of the impromptu lunch went without incident.
"How're you feeling?" She asked, gently placing the back of her hand against Kazuha's forehead as he set the bowl off to the side. He didn't seem to have that strong of a fever, though he clearly did have one. "Any dizziness?"
"…I don't believe so." Not very confident a response, but Beidou would choose to accept this answer until he deliberately told her otherwise.
"Well, in that case, let's get you up to the deck for a bit." She said, gently placing her hand back on Kazuha's back. "Some fresh salt air and sunlight will do you good."
albedo, up in dragonspine with a headcold. thinks he can work it off, but the weather isn’t being particularly considerate regarding his current condition.
Dearest Anonymous Writer, I do hope you enjoy this fic I lovingly crafted for you!!! I was OVERJOYED to receive this in my asks and I really really hope you like it!!!!!!! Even though I am bad at writing (especially albedo who may seem ooc, but i tried.) Happy Holidays everyone!
Frostbite
g/enshin snzfic (sick!a/lbedo & k/aeya) (4k ish words)
The frost is extra frosty today.
Even clutching the furry blankets closer to his freezing skin does very little against the cold seeping into his bones; Albedo wraps the covers closer to himself, letting out a small shiver, wholly unwilling to get out of the warm fluffy sheets. At least, for a few more moments…
…
Just a few more moments…
When the ceiling comes into view again, it seems like the room’s gotten even colder, and Albedo’s muscles feel like lead, and his eyelids feel as though an irresistible force, stronger than gravity, is pulling them down.
He has half a mind to close his eyes again and allow sleep to claim him once more.
…
Albedo’s eyes fly open, leaving the world reeling from how quickly light infiltrates his senses, and his mouth opens before he even has the slightest idea why, his mind still slow and stupid from the stupor of dreamless sleep - he’s plunged into darkness once more as quickly as he’d left it, his every thought now devoted to a singular cause - the insane, burning itch that has somehow invaded the very back of his nasal passages -!
“-h-hIH-!”
He wavers, mouth hanging open, nostrils quivering in frustrated anticipation, for just a moment -
“..-h-hiihH-..!”
Before finally, thank the Archons, his nose releases him from the agony - he pitches forward, blanket raised up to catch the messy spray of his sneezes -
“-hIh’ks-Huh-! h’IHKSH-uh-!”
A pause, in which Albedo keeps his eyes squeezed shut, nose still buried in the fur of his blanket, waiting for the itch to summon more exhausting expulsions -
Then the alchemist sighs, a wet sniffle escaping him as he lowers the blank-
“-hiHH’kSHhuu-!”
Startled, he gasps involuntarily, his breaths growing uneven as the itch burns powerfully throughout his nose, which responds with an aching twinge of agonizing sensation pummeling the sensitive insides of his red, twitching nostrils -
“-hiiyyEiiii’kSHhiuu-!! …!”
That sneeze had been particularly wet, and he’s left sniffling furiously, trying to recover his dignity even as his blanket’s hopelessly soiled with the spray of his - oh no, his breath catches as a particularly sharp twinge in his sinuses makes his head rear back, and something tells him that his blanket’s going to be rather worse for the wear after -
“-hhaAHHH’EKkhsh-hIHH’kSShhi-uuuHH-!!”
Hurriedly, before he can sniffle reflexively, he shoves the fur blanket off of himself, all but catapulting himself out of the safe haven of the warm bed, eyes still squeezed shut -
“hhAHh-uhhKKSShhh-!! h’KKShh!!.....”
Albedo swipes at his inflamed nostrils, groaning slightly as he finally has the chance to open his bleary eyes. Ugh.. With a slight sigh he sinks down onto the chair by his desk, a hand rifling through his drawers. He knew he should’ve gotten rid of that fur-blanket ages ago, as it had the tendency to coax a few sneezes out of his sensitive nose every now and again, but he hadn’t exactly expected the itch to be quite so strong so as to wake him up. The alchemist sniffles, fingers finally finding the handkerchief he’d been searching for, and, with a slight sigh, he blows his nose. Perhaps the blanket had accumulated some dust, or something..?
Either way, best not to keep the thing about for now. Albedo sniffles once again, finding it rather irritating how much his nose is running. His throat at this point is starting to ache, which can only be from the chill that’s invaded the entire cave. Hmm.. must’ve been a particularly bad storm.
Albedo frowns, hesitant, as he stares down the offending blanket, its furry exterior evoking a particular itch in the back of his nose. However, the sheer amount of shivering he’s doing is strongly dissuading him from exiting the cave to properly dispose of the thing, and for a few moments he simply clings to his own arms, trying to hide from the pervasive cold.
Oh, not again - his head tilts back, breath catching once more -! Albedo moans quietly, the back of his hand digging at his irritated nostrils, but still he’s helpless to stop the next series of -
A wet sniffle. His nose burns badly. In a rather embarrassing display he blows his nose into the poor, wet handkerchief, and finds barely any relief, as his nostrils ignite with renewed passion.
“Uhh-hhh-! hAAhhHKKHSHHh-!! ha’AKKHShhUH-!!”
As the itch starts to get utterly overwhelming he decides that enough is enough. With one hand pinching hard at his itchy nose, the other holding the blanket as far as possible from his face, Albedo (in a very dignified manner) thrusts the wretched fabric far into the snow.
He breathes a sigh of almost relief, that swiftly becomes a gasp of desperation -!
“-huuuhh-! H-uhh-..!!”
The agonizing seconds stretch longer and longer as his breaths come unevenly.
And yet…!
Every passing moment feels more and more like a letdown, as the itch becomes more of a background hum, as silent as the snowflakes falling onto snowdrifts, yet as present as the chill they bring. Albedo’s hand lowers, taking with it the handkerchief and his spirits. He sniffles, hugging his elbows as he waits patiently, head still tilted upward.
It feels as if an eternity passes with his nose wiggling in the air, nursing the tiny itch until it’s formidable enough for him to finally expel it - and oh, that burns -!
“-hihhh…h-ihh-!”
A small hitching gasp ignites his nasal passages with a brightly burning sensation.
“..h-iihh-…” It’s only a matter of time, he can tell by the way his eyes are starting to water and the way his throat feels scratchy with anticipation. Yet, he is helpless to speed up the process, completely bent to the will of this torturous sneeze, the burning overwhelming his senses -
“…! -h-!! hihhh-..!”
His breaths are ragged, his nose squirming from the sheer irritation of it all, and - he gasps, itch finally freeing him from the agony.
“iiih-iiHIHH-kSHUHH-!!”
That’s odd, he thinks, sniffling and shivering with equal fervor, brow furrowed as he tries to part the mist filling his weary brain, shouldn’t his nose be itching less now that the blanket’s gone…? Indeed, his nose’s itch is only growing in strength with every weak sniff and violent shudder. Irritated and annoyed, he blasts his nose into the handkerchief once more. Maybe the tickle hasn’t run its course yet.
Carefully he removes the handkerchief from his nostrils, wiggling them experimentally; fortunately, despite the fact that his every inhale feels stuffy and uncomfortable, he’s not out right sneezing. It probably was the fur after all -!
Albedo’s nose chooses that moment to twitch powerfully, and his fingers quickly reach up, pinching at his nostrils that are currently whining at him, hoping for some reprieve from the wild itching that is exploding like an overload reaction. As the tickle starts to invade his senses he finds that he cannot possibly ignore such a powerful adversary, and, dignity forgotten for a moment, he gasps - nose frantic for relief -!
“hhAHH-!!! h-aAHHEEKSSHH-!! hAHHESHHUHH-!!” The sneezes burn his throat on the way out and he’s left panting slightly, wincing as his entire head is suddenly spinning and pounding and full of sawdust. Albedo sighs, and his heart sinks as that innocuous breath becomes a slight cough as his throat rebels against him.
Well, there’s no denying it now. He’s sick.
A part of him had known the second he’d woken that morning, what with the slight tickle in the back of his throat, creeping upwards into his nasal passages. Now with the irrefutable evidence, there’s no way Albedo can ignore the facts.
Good thing he can still ignore the symptoms.
Unfortunately, even if Albedo only has a head cold, the outside has a different kind of cold - a much more severe one, at that. A longing gaze turned towards his forlorn bed makes him sorely wish that he hadn’t been so hasty to throw away the warmest blanket that he possessed. Yet a stronger shiver running through his body strongly dissuades him from leaving to retrieve the probably sopping wet and frozen blanket.
Another shiver forces Albedo to his feet, and he stumbles to the fireplace, frozen fingers fumbling with the little firewood he had left. Hands graze against the box’s bottom, and he simply sighs, before tossing the last of the tinder into the hearth.
Normally that’s a sign to go out to fetch more.
Today?
He can barely keep his eyes open long enough to start the fire, fingers barely hanging on to the flint, as his breath shudders weakly in his chest -
He ducks his head into his shoulder, shivering as the itch once again takes control - “hAHkCHUHH-! h-ah-!!”
A pause.
“…hiih…”
The way his breath stutters in his chest is not a very encouraging sign as he wrestles with this fast-fading itch.
“…”
A wet sniffle, disappointment settling into his veins as the urge leaves him hanging, and he wearily turns back to his fire-starting efforts.
Thanks to quite a few attempts, he manages to get a spark fanned into a small flame, and warmth fills Albedo’s veins. A contented sigh.
“…-ihh-!!” His nose suddenly ignites, a spark similarly bursting to life, and he squeezes his eyes shut, aching nose raised into the air -
“..-hihh-..”
The itch fades once more, and his throat complains furiously. These false starts are driving him insane. There’s nothing Albedo can do, however, but blast his nostrils and gunk into the abused handkerchief helplessly.
Ugh.
Illness is such an inconvenience.
There’s still much to do, and just thinking about it makes Albedo’s head spin. He’ll probably be alright, it’s only a little cold. From prior experience, it’ll most likely go away. The worst that this illness would be is an annoyance - although, his next hitching gasp makes him rethink that, as he desperately clears his itchy nose into his poor soggy handkerchief.
Albedo shuffles onto his chair once the warmth is sufficient to stop his whole-body shivers (somewhat, he’s starting to suspect that the origin of some of them are not in fact from the chill outside) - and even though his body flashes with freezing cold every few minutes or so, it’s enough to get him back to work.
With a careful hand guiding tweezers full of elemental dust, Albedo stares at the pan. Combining these two identical materials, borne of different origins, might have a novel effect, given the technique of mixing is precise. As he delicately handles the instruments, laser-focused on the mixture, he sniffles slightly, the itch in his nose omnipresent and omni-annoying. Wisps of smoke seep upwards, twirling in the cold air, and -!
His throat rises up in immediate protest, a scratchy sensation emerging and rearing its head throughout his respiratory system; Albedo stiffens, a hand automatically flying up to his mouth as he sputters a small cough. CLACK! The tweezers clatter to the floor, but his eyes are fluttering with a much larger issue -!
“hi-IHHHKShuuH-! hii-ihKSHhyuh-!!!”
He opens his eyes to find elemental dust swirling all throughout the frosty air, visible against the puff of his breath, sparkling like motes in the sunlight - and this is not a sight he sees for very long, before his eyes squeeze shut again, breath catching in a half-cough half-sneezing expulsion that grates at his chest - “aHIKSSHTYUUhhh-!! hI-AkkSSHiuhh-!! h-yakkSHUHH—!!!!”
His nose is weeping, and a wet snort does nothing but worsen the issue as more dust makes its way into his red, raw throat. The alchemist stumbles; eyes, nose, and throat burning with an unquenchable fire. Feeling against the wall, gasping as his breath leaves him in repeated coughs and sneezes sprayed against his elbow - “hyiIHHUkkSHH-h’KShhhUhh—!!” Albedo’s fingers find the entrance and he nearly faceplants into the snow from how quickly he opens the door, letting the blizzard-strength winds gust into his poor, frozen abode. The pitiful fire extinguishes itself with a spiteful hiss, but Albedo can barely care less as he refills his dust-infested lungs with fresh, freezing cold oxygen -
and that oxygen acts as a catalyst to the horribly irritating reaction blasting around in his nose; distantly, he wonders if this could count as a swirl reaction, before all thoughts leave his fuzzy mind in favour of I NEED TO SNEEZE -!!
He reels in the frosty air, his lungs screaming as the harsh contrast between burning itch and freezing cold stings at his throat and sinuses. Before he can even register the sheer agony, Albedo’s mouth snaps open once more, breaths coming out as half-cough half-hitch abominations as the irritating sensations war with one another -!
The wind is unforgivingly frosty against his poor nose, which protests the sudden temperature change with a violent twitch, and Albedo feels himself falling to pieces even before he has time to draw breath.
The alchemist pants, his throat finally satiated with the desperate expulsions, and quickly he pulls the door shut as the wind bites at his ears and nose and fingers.
Sniffling fervently, and coughing quite a few times as well, he shivers as he turns back into the room. The lab has dropped in temperature once more. Albedo finds that his head is spinning so badly that he can’t bring himself to bother braving the storm for another heap of firewood. Maybe if he worked some more, he’d regain some energy. Furthermore the storm will probably have passed by the time his experiment has completed. At least, that’s what the alchemist tells himself, as he focuses bleary eyes on the table once more, shuddering as the intensified chill presents itself as an icy feeling through his veins.
For a while he simply works, ignoring how his throat curls with pain and how his sniffling keeps messing up the experiment. A shaking hand is no good when he’s working with delicate ashes, and he grits his teeth out of frustration - totally not because they’re chattering, forced together by the harsh chill in the room. His throat feels as though he had swallowed an entire bottle of sand, and the flask of water isn’t doing much to solve that issue.
His head is pounding - very annoying when he’s trying to measure out ingredients that he can’t remember clearly. Albedo grits his teeth, resolving to scribble down what he’d just added to the mixture, even though this would normally be child’s play. His fingers tremble as he writes - 3 g. Anm. Slime. 4.2 g. Crys. Fly.
The alchemist frowns, quill shaking slightly, as he tries to remember whether or not he’d added the fragile resin three seconds ago, and with a slightly frustrated sigh he shoves the concoction into the waste bin, restarting the experiment once more.
…
The ashes swirl into nothingness from a raw sneeze for possibly the fifth time, although truthfully he’s lost count. A soft groan, and his nostrils rebel, red rims expanding as his eyes flutter shut, and his handkerchief finds its way underneath; the feeling of his mouth opening is almost second nature at this point and Albedo gasps, his whole body gripped by the urgency of expelling this itchy sensation…!
“hy-hAHHKSH-hhUUH! h-hAKASSHUiuhh—!”
He rubs at his nostrils with the handkerchief, smothering a few harsh coughs into the fabric, utterly miserable as the congestion forms a pounding headache. He’s driven utterly to distraction by the freezing cold temperatures, which to his dismay have not improved in the slightest; as some semblance of night falls he finds himself clutching at his arms, shivering so violently that it seems his workspace is vibrating. It’s utterly ridiculous to even consider working still at this point, but Albedo is determined -!
His head pounds again, more powerfully this time.
He ignores it.
“You still kicking, Albedo?”
The alchemist in question suddenly starts, dropping the ingredients and groaning as he ruins the process yet again. “O-oh, coming..!” More pressingly, someone’s at the door, so he hurriedly whisks the mess away with a wave of his hand. The world seems to tilt to the side as he stands up too quickly, and for a moment he can only wobble in place, gripping his chair tightly for support as his vision blurs with many colours.
Freezing cold wind enters the room as he peeks out, eyes meeting a blue-haired knight of Favonius.
“Cavalry Captain..?” Albedo’s voice feels rusty from disuse, so he clears his throat slightly into his fist. “What are you d-doing here..?”
What indeed, would compel anyone to go to Dragonspine during the winter, during this awful snowstorm? Albedo can barely keep his eyes open against the frigid winds that are causing him to shake uncontrollably despite the layers he has on, and the head cold isn’t helping matters - letting the icy frost penetrate deep into his bones as his teeth chatter helplessly.
The man simply chuckles, shaking his head. “Did you seriously forget what day it is?” Kaeya’s expression is one of mild amusement.
Bewildered, Albedo glances up at the sky, as if the dark clouds and the blustery snow will tell him anything about the passage of time, and then back at Kaeya’s bemused expression. He strains his throat to be heard above the howling winds, teeth chattering so badly that his words sound unrecognizable. “I’m s-sorry, please remind me. If that’s alright.”
“The Acting Grand Master asked me to ask you if you were going to give us the heatshield potions for the mission anytime soon.”
Albedo’s eyes widen, before he regains his composure. How could he have forgotten? “I-.. I haven’t completed that assignment.” He smothers another cough, thankful that the other hasn’t mentioned it by now. “I can finish it by tomorrow, though.”
Kaeya tilts his head in apparent agreement. “Mind if I stay here, then? I’m supposed to bring the potions back.”
The blonde-haired man nods, though his eyes are distant; he can feel some sort of tickle in the back of his throat, migrating towards his sinuses, and it’s terribly distracting.
“You ok there, Albedo? You’re not looking too hot.” Kaeya’s voice drifts towards him, and vaguely he discerns a concerned expression on the other man’s face.
Albedo opens his mouth to respond, and…
His nose itches so badly, so suddenly, like a sharp feather-blade twisting its way into his nose, and he has to hold his breath, teeth gritted, in order not to sneeze directly onto the other man, and to his great relief, he manages to keep the nigh-inevitable itch from escaping all over Kaeya’s garments…!
“Albedo?”
He blinks, an apology already making its way out of his aching throat. But when he opens his mouth, a raspy cough escapes instead, turning itself swiftly into a burning itch in the back of his nose and throat and instinctively his body attempts to expel the sudden irritation - his hitching coughs spluttering into a - “h-hhaahh-kkshu-uhh-!! h’-AKSH-!! ‘aKsHHHUH—!!”
A firm hand on his shoulder steadies the ailing alchemist. Albedo looks up at what appears to be three spinning copies of the cavalry captain, and he stifles a groan.
“Whoa, there. You alright…?”
Albedo blinks, trying to make sense of the gibberish flowing from the other’s mouth. “Um… Y-yes.” His words do not sound very confident, especially considering that he shivers violently right afterward.
“Try again.” Kaeya lets himself, and a strong gust of frosty wind, into the cave, and as Albedo shudders the knight smoothly slips off his furry scarf, tying it loosely around the blonde-haired man’s shoulders. “Archons, Albedo, you’re burning up.”
“So I am.” The Alchemist’s voice is quiet, eyes rather distant as he leans away from Kaeya’s hand reaching for his forehead. “…O-or perhaps, y-you’re th-the one that’s cold…”
His poor attempt at a joke is interrupted by a quiet curse from the fireplace. “Do you not have any firewood…? In Dragonspine?”
“Did earlier..”
He must’ve sounded rather pitiful, as Kaeya stands up immediately and makes his way to the door. “Stay right here, I’m gonna have to get some more.” Just like that, he’s gone, sending another chill into the room.
Albedo’s attempt to stop him - opening his mouth to protest, has left his own nose protesting, and he stifles a sneeze into his palm - “h-iIIkhshUUH-!” Well, now it’s too late. The wind whistles outside and he has no ability to follow given his current state. Now the only thing he can do is to obey Kaeya’s order to wait.
Albedo listens for all of about three minutes, and that’s mostly because he’s summoning the strength to stand again. As soon as this capability is returned to him, he’s once again sitting at his desk, staring at the elemental dust in his workspace. He definitely has time to finish the potions before Kaeya returns.
He is about to mix everything together when he realizes he needs more flaming flower stamens. The most important ingredient in the potion. The only reason he’s not kicking himself, physically, is that he left some in the storage just a two-minute walk from this lab.
It’ll be a short trip.
Albedo’s opening the door before he can think twice about it.
The biting frost stings at his numb fingers. Albedo’s been shivering nonstop for the whole day so the fact that he’s shivering barely registers.
By the time the shaking gets worse, the path is hidden under layers of snow. His feet sink into the powdered frost, leaving them soaked with cold.
Everything looks so unfamiliar, even though he’d lived here for so long.
It’s another five? Ten? Minutes before Albedo finally admits he’s lost, coughing harshly into the scarf that Kaeya had lent him.
Snow feels like nothing against his already-numb fingers and wet against his knees.
Navigating this is impossible, given that he can’t keep his eyes open for even a moment before the snowflakes catch in his eyelashes, fluttering as his nose compels him to duck forward into frozen hands -
“HH-iIYEESh- h’kSHIeyyUUUh!!!”
He sprays sneezes against the sparkling snow, the sound lost to the howling wind.
Albedo’s eyes are burning with cold and hot and the same time, as they stream with tears from the force of ejecting his tortured lungs via sneezing and coughing -
A warmth upon his shoulder, and he hazily looks up, sky and snow blurring together.
A certain blue-haired Knight of Favonius stares back at him, frightened concern clear in his icy eyes - his lips move, but Albedo doesn’t hear anything over the roar of the blizzard.
He simply melts into the other’s touch, too dizzy and too weak to move on his own, and thankfully the other man supports both their weight against the wind and snow. It feels like forever, struggling against biting cold that burns at his nose and ears and -
Albedo gasps, muffling a coughing fit into his frozen hand, and his nose, offended by the frigid snowflakes, immediately sends a stinging itch through his congested sinuses - he sputters, breathless. “hiIHk-sHuh-!! hikhssh-hiIhkSHHuuh-!!”
The wind lessens and Albedo manages to crack an eye open against frosty air to see Kaeya bracing himself against the snow, protecting them from the brunt of the storm as they continue to shuffle in the direction of Albedo’s abode.
“-hiiIh-! hih-! h-hiIHKHSH! h’ksHUH!” A dizzy sneeze leaves him leaning heavily against Kaeya’s chest, and luckily the Cavalry Captain does not falter. Instead he speeds up, all but dragging his companion into the safety of their shelter.
It’s a single moment of silence after the raging storm outside.
Broken swiftly, a few seconds later.
“What were you thinking?!” Kaeya all but yells, breathless from exertion. “You’re sick! What were you doing outside?”
“I’m used to snow,” Albedo responds, weakly, and his own raspy voice sounds pathetic to himself. “Had to get some ingredients fr-from…” His nose scrunches up and his weak voice trails into nothingness, and he catches Kaeya’s wince of sympathy before his eyes slam shut. “fr-uuuHhkShu! uuhKSHHiyyuu—!!”
A wet sniffle, followed by a few congested coughs, and Albedo moans, involuntarily, from the discomfort.
“Here, I gotcha -”
The next few minutes are a blur, and by the time he regains actual consciousness a fire is roaring in the hearth. He’s wrapped in a blanket. Albedo blinks slowly.
“Th-thank you, Kaeya-”
He sniffles into the blanket.
“Don’t mention it.” The man looks at him sideways, a soft huff of relief escaping. “Do you usually… do this?”
He does not usually catastrophically fail his commissions, so his back stiffens with offense. “N-no, I assure you, I do not tend to forget my tasks-!” Albedo’s voice starts to waver, “...It was… I…”
To his horror, his eyes are watering.
“...I…”
He has no explanation, really, for his failure.
“...I can g-get the potions made by tomorrow, so t-that y-you c-can-h-uHH-!”
Albedo’s arms feel like lead; he can’t raise them in time to cover his nose and mouth, so he instead ducks his head downwards into the blanket, nose burning - “iiIIHIhihksHHUh-i’kHShuh-hiiuuhh-uh-!!”
He raises his head up again, sniffling. “..so th-that.. snff.. you can leave qu-uickl-yiiiSShh-hi’ksSHHuh-!”
“Albedo. I didn’t mean it like that. You can’t just…” Kaeya sucks in a breath, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Look, how are you going to make anything if you’re half-dead in a snowstorm? Which you were going to be if I hadn’t…”
His voice trails off. “Point is, you have to take care of yourself. You mean a lot to m- people, as a researcher… and as a friend.”
“I’ll take that into c-consideration.” The words have left a peculiar warmth in his chest, which does more for his cold than the fireplace ever could.
Kaeya smiles, holding a handkerchief to Albedo’s scrunched up nostrils. “Well, for right now… Let me take care of you.”
Finally given a free afternoon together, Albedo and Kaeya elect to spend it relaxing. For Albedo, this means painting, and for Kaeya, this means bothering Albedo while he paints. He’s not sure which of them is more pleased with this arrangement.
“You know,” Albedo tells him, tracing green paint over his canvas to form stems for a bouquet of calla lilies. “If you could sit still for a few moments longer, you’d make an excellent model.”
“Do I not already make the perfect muse?” Kaeya feigns an offended gasp, clutching one hand to his chest. “My dear, you wound me!”
Albedo rolls his eyes, stirring two colors together on his pallet. “You’re so dramatic.”
“That’s why you love me~”
Albedo pauses, looking the slightest bit thoughtful. “Hm…. I suppose so.”
Kaeya gasps loudly again. “You hesitated! Does this mean you don’t love me?!”
“Yes,” Albedo says flatly, his lips quirked in amusement. “That’s exactly why I’ve been courting you for all this time. Because I don’t love you.”
“Pfft~ You jerk.” Chuckling softly, Kaeya reaches out and boops Albedo’s nose.
To his surprise, Albedo’s nose twitches. His expression turns almost quizzical, eyelids fluttering.
“Ihh… chiu!”
Albedo cups his hands to cover what is perhaps the most polite sneeze Kaeya has ever heard. His hair floats in the air a moment as his head ducks sharply.
“Oh,” he murmurs. “Please, excuse me.”
“Awww,” Kaeya coos. “You have such a cute sneeze~”
Cuter still, if the reason why he sneezed is what Kaeya thinks it is. Curious, he smiles playfully at Albedo and taps the tip of his nose once more.
“UhhH…?” Albedo hitches, his nose scrunching as his gaze grows distant again. He shudders quietly before his head bobs with another sneeze. “Hh…! hHi’chiuu!”
“Oh, bless you!” Kaeya can’t help chuckling softly at the way Albedo blinks in surprise after his sneeze. “I had no idea your nose was so sensitive, darling.”
“Is it?” Albedo sniffles softly. “I didn’t know this was irregular.”
His nose twitches again, and Kaeya has an idea.
He takes the end of his fur collar in one hand and brushes it under Albedo’s nose, watching his eyes glaze over once more.
“Kaehhyahh…” Albedo protests, but he’s smiling even as his nose twitches like a bunny, so Kaeya knows he’s not upset by this. “I… hhah… hHHhh… I’m… going to… sneehh— snee-! HhhEH’szchuw!! hAH’TChIEWW!”
He stumbles a bit from the force of the sneezes, grasping Kaeya’s wrist to steady himself. He shoots Kaeya a fondly exasperated look. “At least let me put down my paintbrush first.”
“Sorry.” Kaeya gives him one of his dashing grins with a touch of apology. Albedo just rolls his eyes and sets his brush in the cup of water next to his pallet and the little jar of other brushes.
Hmm…
With a cheeky smile, Kaeya reaches past Albedo and deftly scoops up one of the clean brushes. He flicks his wrist in a circle, pretending to paint in the air and wiggles the brush under Albedo’s chin.
“Kae— Kahahaeyaha!” Albedo laughs, batting at Kaeya’s hand— though he puts no significant force behind it. “Thahhahaht tickles!”
“Oh~? Does it now?” Kaeya hums cheerfully, enjoying the sight of Albedo’s smile staying even after he composes himself. He leans closer, this time using the brush to tickle the tip of Albedo’s nose.
Albedo freezes. “Ihh—!”
Kaeya “draws” little circles on Albedo’s nose, watching as Albedo’s eyes blink shut. Then his whole body shudders, breath hitching sharply.
“Ihh… ihHH— iihH—!”
“Does that tickle?” Kaeya teases, tracing the brush against the underside of Albedo’s now-pink nose.
Albedo tries to nod, although it’s lost in his desperate, breathy hitches. “Yyehhh— ehh… yyehhhs— hi’H—!”
Kaeya gives the brush one last little wiggle and pulls it away.
“Bless you!” Kaeya coos softly. He reaches into his pocket for a handkerchief, but Albedo’s nose is still quivering with an unreleased sneeze, making Albedo hitch helplessly, hands still hovering.
“hhHH-? hhehhh—! hIH— iHhH—! h’iH-!”
Oh, that looks torturous. Looking to help, Kaeya swipes the brush under Albedo’s nose, inducing a rapid triple.
“hhHI— hI’Tchiew! AAESSHOoo! HHH’ihSHiEWW!”
Albedo’s head bobs sharply into his hands with every sneeze. He sniffles, barely getting a sharp breath in before— “hhHE’TChoo!! hhEH’SSHOOO! IiiiSSSShIEW! hhhH…! HATchoo!!”
Kaeya rests both hands on Albedo’s shoulders, steadying him through the sneezing fit. Albedo leans into him when it’s over, slumping on his chest with a little sigh.
“That was more intense than I expected,” Kaeya says, finally drawing the handkerchief out of his pocket for him.
Albedo accepts it, burying his pink nose in the fabric as his shoulders hitch and tremble. “IhhH… I’mhH— I’m nohHt done yehHt—! hAH— hhIH’chuh!! iiiIIH’SSshhH!!!!”
Kaeya holds him close against his chest, rubbing his back soothingly.
“hEehhH—!” Albedo’s head tips back, almost facing the ceiling with his eyes squeezed shut, then pitches forward into the handkerchief with a “hEH’SSSHIEEW!”
Kaeya waits a moment, still running one hand up and down his back. Albedo is panting quietly in his chest, but several seconds pass without any sneezes. Kaeya smooths back his hair for him, tucking a blond lock behind his ear. “Got it all out?”
Albedo nods, sniffling. “Y-yes, I think so.”
He sighs, turning his head to lean on Kaeya. “I think I’m too tired to paint now…”
“How about some sweets?” Kaeya suggests. “I’ll buy you a slice of cake at Good Hunter.”
Albedo sniffles into the handkerchief. “That sounds nice.”
“Alright, then.” Kaeya laces their fingers together, bending down to press an apology kiss to the tip of Albedo’s valberry-pink nose.
He doesn’t really think about what that action might do to Albedo’s sensitive nose until he hears a sharp intake of breath.