#gen/shin imp/act di/luc

[danafeelingsick]

posted a sickfic, if you even care 🥺

[alans-snz]

DI/LUUUUUUC!!! I MISSED SEEING THIS GORGEOUS MAN IN YOUR STYLE!!!! EEEEEK THIS IS SO GOOD, SO BEAUTIFUL, SO CUUUUTE!! I project myself onto Ae/ther as well, I'll admit it. So, seeing myself in his place here 🥹 I love this so much I love this so so much, Mochi!!! You draw them so well, and the expressions are adorable.

The spellings, the scenario, the pulling Ae/ther close in a tight hug too, and I know I already said it but THEIR FACESSSSS!! THEY'RE JUST SO GOOD!! The little hearts on Ae/ther's cheeks, Di/luc's harsh snz expression, Ae/ther's reaction in general—Ae/ther I'm with you, I'd be the same way!! 😭 I love the addition of them both blushing "for different reasons" too. And you draw Di/luc's hair so perfectly fluffy I imagine it's so nice and soft, and I want to give him a huge hug. We DEFINITELY need more Sickluc content here! It's so good!! Ahhh, this is wonderful, Mochi, I can't stop looking. Bravoooo!

Part 1/3 of purely self indulgent art

Đi/luc sir makes another appearance finally xD

Both blushing but for different reasons haha

I have two more small pieces I’m getting at. I just get really caught up in coloring because it becomes habit to just shade and everything lol

I always come back around to Di/luc sir and I have no clue why. Also really love Ae-ther like, so so much. I might be self projecting onto him oops .-.

[danafeelingsick]

Novemetober 2023

Also happy Valentine's day ❤️

@monthofsick

Prompt list | Masterlist | AO3 collection

Day 14: Can't keep anything down

* combined prompts visibly ill and out of character

Word count: 1.4k~

CONTENT WARNINGS: narrated in 2nd person, y/n is a maid at Dawn Winery in this one, gender-neutral reader, descriptions of vomiting, descriptions of food

Anon asked: Hi, for the Nov(emeto)ber 2023 requests, could I have Diluc with prompt 14. Can't keep anything down? Thanks!

(let me know if you want to be tagged!)

A/N: so, whenever i'm feeling down i daydream about being one of diluc’s maids and these very overindulgent scenarios of one of being sick and the other, you get the gist. I was writing this myself anyways and it reeks of overindulgent mary sue. hope it's serviceable, i live in shame!

Dawn Winery's upper floor would usually be empty by the afternoon, when the staff would focus its efforts on cleaning after lunch. You found it perfect, at least no one else would see if master Diluc were to reprimand you for being nosy. You had already made up your mind.

You weren't the only one wondering why the young master hadn't left his room the entire day. While it wouldn't be out of place to say he could’ve left during the night on a one-man-expedition, no one had seen him leave. And you didn't think you could wait a week or even a month without notice to confirm that theory.

You reached his room, and found the door locked, though that didn't stop you from knocking. You listened closely for any sounds on the other side, and after what felt like several moments of silence, you knocked again for good measure, before you accepted that he had really left.

It took a minute. You only heard the muffled steps when they were already close, and the creak of the door as it crept open. It was just enough for the young master to shily peek through.

You almost didn’t recognize him at first. Behind the mop of fiery curls, his heavy-lidded eyes brimmed with tears, standing out against his pale complexion. His freckled nose and cheeks were also flushed pink, which made you suspect he could’ve been dealing with a high fever.

You had been right to worry. Diluc looked like death warmed over, and must’ve been feeling like it as well, judging by his affixed frown. His usually put together appearance was something you couldn't evoke at the moment. He slouched against the doorframe, shivering despite still being dressed in his pajamas. Could it be that the man had just gotten out of bed?

“What is it…?”, when he finally spoke, after staring at you for a while, his voice was hoarse, barely louder than a whisper.

“Ah…, pardon my intrusion! I've come to, uh, check if you need anything”, you started, already losing yourself on the script you had rehearsed. “The other maids were worried. You haven't left your room all morning, so, uh…”, as the words fell out of your mouth, Diluc’s expression seemed to sink. “Master Diluc?”

For a moment, you thought he was going to keel over, he certainly looked like he would at any moment. Heaving a shaky sigh, Diluc closed his eyes, and ran a shaky hand over his face.

“What time is it again?”, he asked slowly, as if the words weren't coming to him as easily.

“It should be around midday”, you responded, watching as Diluc pauses, his palm pressed to his eye.

“A-Already…?”, he muttered, to himself rather than to you, and combed his fingers through his hair. Red strands stuck to his clammy skin, beaded with sweat. “I must've lost track of time… I don't think I did all th… —”

The sentence turns to muttering as he presses his forehead to the door frame, looking frustrated as his eyes slide shut. You observed him for a moment longer. The man breathes heavily, his whole body trembling noticeably under the thin fabric of his pajamas, his eyebrows pinned into a frown. It almost feels like a scene you weren’t meant to see, you worry he would simply fall asleep on the spot.

“Um, sir?”, you spoke up, raising a hand as needing to leap and catch him mid-fall was becoming a real possibility. Thankfully, he opens his eyes at your call, blinking as if he barely recognized you. “Is everything okay? You don't seem well.”

Diluc glances up at you through his eyelashes, his look nearly pleading. He hums weakly, managing to nod.

“I-I believe I might be… sick”, he confesses, and it almost sounds like he's embarrassed. “I don't know when… it got this bad, but…”, he pauses, swallowing thickly. “I don't feel well at all.”

You hummed thoughtfully, taken aback by his honesty. He sounded so vulnerable, timid almost, you had never seen such a side of him before. You had never taken him for someone who would ask for help either, as quietly and reserved as you thought him to be.

“Oh no… Is there anything I could get you? Some tea, or maybe…”, you offered. “Have you eaten yet? Lunch has already been served, but I could still arrange something, if you wish.”

At your offer, the young master lets escape an uncomfortable sound, though he doesn't make an effort to hide it. He slowly shakes his head, his expression still tense.

“I haven’t had much appetite as of late”, he tells you quietly, swallowing as his hand wanders to his abdomen. You see the fabric of his pajamas stick to and can't help but think he looked rather thin without his black coat. “Wouldn’t it be too much trouble if I asked for something light on the stomach?”

“Of course not, I can make you some soup in a few minutes”, you promptly reassure him, to which he gives a slow nod. “Okay. Try to rest while I’m away, alright?”

“Ah, of course. Thank you… I’ll try”, he lets out a small chuckle, though that glint in his eye doesn't last. You try not to dwell on it as you bow and take your leave.

You softly knock on the door, a tray of hot soup balanced in your other hand and a moment later, you let yourself in. The young master sleepily glanced up at you from his bed, peeking from under a nest of red curls. He still shivered, even cooped up under several blankets. You feel the urge to feel his forehead and check for yourself the fever he was running, but you knew you would be overstepping at that point.

“Master Diluc?”, you call, trying to keep your voice hushed. “I’ve brought your soup.”

“Ah, right… thank you”, he answers weakly, his expression becoming somewhat strained. You wait as he begins to sit up, one hand wandering under the covers to hold his stomach.

You gently place the tray on his lap and he regards its contents with a slight frown, his lips pressed thin. You were able to make a simple cream soup in less than half an hour, careful to keep its flavor mild and texture smooth. It didn't look bad to you, but you didn't blame the young master for being cautious.

You see his throat shift as he swallows, his mouth seemingly watering.

“Take it slowly. Try a spoonful and if you feel you can't swallow it, just spit it out”, you told him, unfolding a napkin for safety.

Diluc is hesitant at first, but he does as you say and picks up a spoon, trying a small sip. His face is tense if not unreadable, his hand floats up to his mouth, but he manages to swallow it.

There is a pause before he stiffly eats more, his expression turning sour as he forces it down. It isn't exactly pleasant to watch, but you are somewhat relieved he is at least trying. You let him eat in silence, managing to get through half of the plate before his face turns to disgust.

“You don't need to eat it all if you can't”, you warn him, but he simply shakes his head, forcing down another spoonful of warm soup.

“N-No, I… want to eat it”, he replies weakly, his voice held back by his spasming throat.

“Just… remember to pace yourself”, you advise him as he goes for yet another bite. “The food is not going to run away from you.”

Before he has the chance to respond, the man freezes, the empty spoon still lingering by his lip when a nauseated moan stumbles out of his lips. That is the only warning he can give as he starts reversing and his cheeks suddenly fill. You can practically hear the soup swirling inside his mouth before he clasps a hand over it and desperately tries to swallow.

You think fast and grab a few napkins, balling it into a makeshift nest before you hold it to his chin.

“Ah, here!”, you try to tell him, but Diluc refuses, stopping mid head shake when his stomach visibly heaves under his thin shirt.

“H— URK!” Vomit sprays out from between the cracks of Diluc's fingers, coating his hand in the warm pale slurry that had become the soup he ate just moments prior. Some of it drips uselessly into the cloth held out, staining your gloves as well as the entire front of his once white shirt, making it nearly see-through as it sticks to his chest.

“EuRgh!” He gags graphically, pulling his soiled hand away as his mouth falls open.

This time you manage to hold the cloth under his chin, catching the next surge of undigested soup as it pours out of his lips. It quickly soaks into the fabric, staining it a deeper sickly yellow from the bile. You grimace as you notice it somehow feels even hotter than when it was plated.

For the sake of your own gag reflex you look away, affording the young master a smidge of privacy as he continues to empty his stomach. He heaves weakly, releasing another stream of vomit into your hands, the pungent smell of digestive acid takes hold of the room. You hear liquid gurgle in the back of his throat as it tapers off, and he sets off coughing as if he's drowning. It sounds painful, and you don't doubt it feels like hell on his throat and already sensitive stomach.

You risked a glance as you heard Diluc hiccup, seemingly done, though you didn't expect to find his eyes screwed shut, clear tear tracks trailing down his cheeks. His face was a mess of sick and snot, beet red as if he was straining to hold in his sobs. You took pity on him, though you decided to act on it rather than show.

Quickly, you fold the soiled napkins and leave it on the tray, exchanging it for a clean. Diluc’s breath hitches as he feels you touch him, though he doesn't try to pull away from it.

“Shh, it's okay”, you ease him, running the cloth over his mouth. He takes it from you, busying himself with it as you pull his hair out of the way, grimacing at the heaviness of the matted now vomit-soaked hair.

“I-I’m sorry, I — ”, he tries to apologize, his voice bordering on a whimper, but you stop him, offering tender words instead.

“No, no, it's fine”, you insist, picking up the tray, trying not to look at the mess in it. “I’ll clean it over here and then I’ll prepare a bath for you, okay? We can try again later with… maybe, something else.”

[danafeelingsick]

ᴛᴡ ᴠᴏᴍɪᴛ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ

NON-KINK BLOGS AND MINORS DNI

just in time for his birthday, yay

[danafeelingsick]

ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022

@monthofsick

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ʟɪsᴛ | AO3 ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ᴅᴀʏ 20: Panic attack/anxiety

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,8k~

3 [out of it], 13 [shaky and shivery] and 20 for Diluc

ᴀ/ɴ there you go anon! i wrote this one in a daze honestly, but I'd be lying if said i didn't enjoy making diluc this miserable 👹✌️

TW EMETO

Diluc took a cautious sip of his drink, paying close attention to every subtle note of its flavor. The sweet and only slightly sour taste of grape juice bathed his tongue but soon came the bitter aftertaste, and he couldn't help but want to gag when his mouth went dry.

Backed against a wall and begrudgingly sipping a tall glass, he must've looked inviting to all of his hosts, but it was on purpose. There was something off about the zest his drink left behind, how it plagued his palate for a moment too long, a taste almost too fresh for a bottled beverage.

Diluc tried to push these thoughts away, uncomfortably licking his dry lips, a subtle scowl tugging at them. It was useless, he couldn't tell the bitterness of poison apart from the subtle one the beverage left but he could consider himself a lucky man for that.

Even more useless was trying to find it in the first place. The affluent owner of the Dawn Winery had hunted down one of his servants and made them open a fresh bottle he had personally picked from the stock, to take only a glass of it. There couldn't be poison in it, not a chance, but how could he be so sure? Someone could've sneaked something into his drink when he wasn't looking, anyone who worked in the Winery could've…

No. Some master he would be if he couldn't even trust his own servants. Then again, what type of vigilante would he be if he couldn't keep watch of a simple room? Let alone an entire city.

Diluc closed his eyes for a moment, thoughts racing through his head like the many voices filling the ballroom. He gulped audibly, bringing the rim of his glass to his lips, but gave up on taking a sip when he realized just how much his hands were shaking. The dark liquid rippled inside, and for a moment he couldn't stop looking at it. The tips of his fingers were numb holding the stem, he could almost feel his heart palpitating on each of them, his blood rushing to every pore of his skin.

With his gaze locked on the swirling juice, watching as it seemed to thicken and coagulate before his eyes, he missed when the clacking of sturdy heels came his way. It was hard to tell anything from the chatter of the party, and the growing blood buzz in his ears.

“Enjoying yourself from this far?”, a smooth voice asked from the side. Diluc whipped his head to find Kaeya standing there, the stem of an empty glass between his slender fingers, and a conceited smile hanging from wine-stained lips. “Sorry for the wait. There's a great selection of wine waiting for you over there, have you tried any?”

Diluc blinked, but not in surprise, darkness lingered at the corners of his vision, and all he could focus on was Kaeya right in front of him. The smell of alcohol subtly wafted off him, telling. It was enough to turn his stomach, just the sight of him, what he knew, and what he did.

“What is it? Some host you are, hiding from your guests” Kaeya spoke again, his playful tone getting lost when his voice sounded like coming from underwater. “You won't say hello?”

Diluc opened his mouth to say it, almost mechanically, as he'd always do in events like this, sing his praises in the most petulant tone he could muster on a straight face, but his voice refused to come out. He could feel his heart on the back of his throat, tightening with each thump. He took small passed breaths, warm air pulling back as soon it left his nostrils. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck, staining the fine fabric of his collar, dampening his back, like his clothes were alive and trying to smother him.

It was like time had slowed down. Kaeya stepped forward, one hand reaching out. Diluc flinched, then gasped when the man's fingers clutched at his shoulder, firmly planting him back on the ground, holding him in place.

“Whoa, are you… sure you didn't drink anything?” Kaeya risked the last jab before the playfulness of his voice was gone. Diluc shakingly raised his eyes, only slightly surprised when his glass reappeared on Kaeya's hand. He took a careful whiff of it, his eyebrows raising before he asked: “Is this grape juice?”

“D-Don't drink it”, Diluc mustered through labored breaths. He clutched his chest, feeling it tighten, his heart lunging against it like it was trying to break free. “I-I think I’ve been poisoned.”

Kaeya was silent for a moment, as he measured the odds in his head, looking from his empty glass, to the one half-empty, then to his brother, who looked seconds away from falling over.

“You know that’s impossible”, he said, giving both of the glasses a quick swirl for emphasis, but Diluc only seemed to grow paler, his breathing came in short hiccups. If this kept up, soon he would need both of his hands. “Diluc, you're not poisoned. You know that.”

“H-How can you be sure…?” he whispered, nearly slurred as he struggled to swallow, his tongue tying itself into a know. “I was so careful, but… but, still… I could be –”

“Diluc, you have to calm down. I only left your side for a moment”, Kaeya responded sincerely, his grip on his shoulder tightening when he saw his gaze drop to the ground. He was trembling. “Diluc, look at me.”

He did as he was told and raised his eyes. Kaeya felt his heart break in two when he noticed the glisten of tears pooling under them. Diluc's lips were the same tone as his skin, quivering like he was trying to hold something back.

“I… I need to vomit”, he pleaded shakingly and pressed his lips into a thin line, his cheeks quivering as he neared his limit. The urge to cry was so clear in his voice, Kaeya didn't waste any time.

He nodded, whispering tender words of comfort as he carefully slid a hand to his back for support, ready to catch him at any moment.

“It's alright, I'm right here with you. We're going outside now, okay?”, he reassured, gently guiding Diluc forward, one step at a time.

Thankfully, the ballroom wasn't as full as Diluc's racing mind made it out to be. Kaeya was able to lead him out discreetly, keeping close to the walls for safety until they reached the exit. He took the opportunity to leave both glasses on a table as they passed by it.

The cold air would've done well for Diluc if he was able to take a full breath of it, but the brief walk seemed to have forced his lungs to the max. He was nearly wheezing as the two stumbled outside like a drunken couple. Kaeya had an arm around his waist and the other on his back, softly patting when a hiccup threatened to break the man.

Before Kaeya could even be sure they were out of view, he lowered Diluc on the gravel path and knelt beside him, his hands never leaving him, even as the man heaved breathlessly under his touch.

“Shh… you're okay now. There's nobody around, it's just the two of us”, he encouraged, slowly rubbing circles on his back while pulling his ponytail away from his shoulder. “Just try to get it up.”

Shakingly, Diluc parted his lips and held his tongue out, airy hiccups quickly morphed into unheard sobs as only a line of drool dripped off his mouth. His voice was a pitiful whine as he called out for Kaeya, who gave up on patting his back and just pulled him closer, humming tender words.

“I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere”, he promised, throwing all caution to Barbatos when he hugged Diluc, and the man broke into a dry heave that spilled his tears. ”Don't worry, just let it out.”

“...ugh— eurGh… uRrRRgh— bleEeuUurrGggHHh!”

Diluc took his advice to heart as he lurched forward and retched continuously, barely contained by Kaeya hugging his side when he let out a gurgling surge of watery puke onto the gravel. The purplish mixture splashed sharply, so violently that small pebbles lifted with the dust, leaving an abstract pattern on the ground that was quickly ruined by another splash of runny vomit.

“That's it… there you go”, Kaeya reassured, slowly pulling back to his previous position, holding Diluc's low ponytail away from the line of fire as his head whipped forward.

With another pained retch, he brought more of that acidic juice concoction in a sizable wave, gasping for air as it tapered off into a trickle. No doubt he was feeling so anxious, his stomach must've been empty aside from all of that liquid. Kaeya knew well how he got during events like these, around so many people, it wasn't anything new, but it had never been this bad.

“There you go…”, he repeated, patting his heaving back as Diluc hacked painfully, trying to clear his throat of that awful burn. “Think you're done now?”

Diluc shook his head and a second later his shoulders came down, another mouthful of stomach contents hitting the ground, closely followed by another heavy gush that left him breathless, nearly choking on how much his stomach was spewing out. His vision must've blacked out, because when he realized the ground was inches from his nose, and Kaeya's arm wrapped around his chest was the only thing holding him from falling.

“Don't pass out on me now”, Kaeya reprimanded, but his strained voice gave away just how worried he was. “Diluc?”

“I'm not… going to”, he slurred through tears, the strain clear in his voice, but at least he seemed calmer now. Still sniffling as he breathed in and out, but finally able to fill his lungs fully. “I don't know what came over me, I was–”

“Not poisoned”, Kaeya completed, to which Diluc just gave a weak nod, frowning as he looked down. “I know, and I'm sure of it. I was with you the whole night. Are you feeling any better now?”

“Y-Yeah…”, he admitted, swallowing the few sobs still left in him. “Gods… did anyone see me?”

Kaeya simply shrugged, daring to look at the puddle of vomit on the ground. Most of the purplish-red liquid had been soaked by the gravel already, but a few small lumps of barely digested food stayed behind. He tried not to pay much attention to those, recognizing every bit of food he had also ingested when it still looked the part.

“I did, but you're used to that already”, he said finally, looking back to Diluc. “You're okay now, right? Think you can go back?”

“I-I suppose…”, he responded, not an ounce of confidence in his voice.

“No, we'll wait it out here”, Kaeya didn't suggest, he simply said as it was. “You don't have to go back there.”

[danafeelingsick]

Could you draw some Venti emeto? Him puking all over himself or over Diluc?

there you go anon, i hope you like it. and sorry it took me so long, i had a busy week, wasn't home for most of it, and when i was, i didn't have much time to draw. but once i got to it i was done in three days-ish, and kinda happy with the result.

i put some extra care into di/luc's curls and had to research how his shirt worked. ven/ti on the other hand just gave me trouble on drawing him without his hat (honestly i hate hats in general, my hate is unexplained).

NON-KINK BLOGS AND MINORS DNI

tw vomit and tw implied alcohol below

[danafeelingsick]

I really like the idea of Diluc throwing up from drinking hard liquor since he can’t handle alcohol really well hard liquor must make him very sick. Can you draw either Jean or Kaeya holding Diluc’s hair back as he throws up from drinking too much hard liquor? I would appreciate that a lot thank you so much I love your art!

hey (again?) anon! am i safe to assume you are the same anon? because these two ideas go so well together. thank you for the kind words as well! ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝)

so, here's your request. tried to imply the hard liquor part with the color, but it isn't all that convincing (references for these are hard to go by so...) i chose j.ean instead of k.aeya because i've been dying to feature her a bit more (i mean, hot tall lady, how can i not?), but i just haven't gotten to that yet. i have so many ideas going around...

[danafeelingsick]

can you draw diluc throwing up on Jean?

probably the sexiest jean i've ever drawn 😳

psst, i take commissions too

uncensored under the cut. minors DNI, this is your cue to leave. tw emeto

i'm feeling generous, so have a clean version for... no specific reason titties

[danafeelingsick]

!tw emeto! !tw vomit!

i've been holding onto this for a while now, my most detailed emeto art yet. loosely based on this one fic, more of a what if.

[danafeelingsick]

ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022

@monthofsick

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ʟɪsᴛ | AO3 ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ᴅᴀʏ 9: The first time ____ has seen ____ sick

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,2k~

Heyo can I request for nevemetober the 9. The first time ____ has seen ____ sick prompt with Venti and sick Diluc? :D

TW EMETO

Diluc pushed past the door and hurriedly closed it behind him, hoping no one would come barging in to drag him back to the party. The uncaring sun greeted his eyes first, but he preferred it over the cluttered atmosphere of his own home, filled with strangers.

The server's area was empty as he had hoped, everyone was gathered inside the mansion, where a wine-tasting event was being held, aside from him and a few lonely tables and chairs. He pulled one and sat down, resting his full untouched glass on the surface, and staring at it with annoyance.

This could've happened any day, but as luck would have it, his body picked today to simply not cooperate. Diluc was sure he was sick and had been since he woke up feverish, without a sliver of appetite. And he remained that way through the day, his stomach aching and burning around the few bites he managed to force down, but nothing more.

Diluc breathed in deeply, trying to disperse that shuddering disgust etched in the pit of his abdomen. It didn't work, it only served to make him more nauseous. His head swam under the heat he was sure was coming from inside him, slowly cooking him alive.

The wind blew gently as if trying to provide some comfort, and while it was refreshing on his warm skin, it also brought the sensation of a pair of eyes gliding over him. Diluc looked away from his swirling wine and caught a glimpse of green as it disappeared behind a wooden crate, the footsteps were too light to be heard, but he hadn’t imagined it.

“I saw you, Venti. Come out”, he ordered with a sigh and shot his meanest look in the green figure's direction. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, master Diluc, good to see you!”, the bard stepped out of hiding, looking in every direction before flashing his most awkward grin. “I… wasn't trying to sneak in, I swear. What are you doing back here though?”

“That's none of your business”, Diluc responded coldly, clearly an invitation to leave him alone, but instead of acting hurt the bard stepped forward and shamelessly took a seat across from him.

“Hmm, are you drunk already? Your face’s quite red”, Venti pointed out, the sincerity in his voice sent Diluc's heart sinking through his back.

“I-I'm not drunk”, he grunted, putting all the energy he could spare into sounding harsh, deepening his scowl. When that didn’t seem to work, he crossed his arms over his stomach, almost protectively, hiding how hot and sensitive it felt. “I don't drink.”

“Wow, you’re missing out. You have all of the delicious wine you could ever want, and still, never drink any of it”, Venti snorted, but as he spoke his eyes shamelessly wandered to the full glass, and he nearly drooled.

Diluc couldn't keep himself from groaning, then rolling his eyes as if to mask the real intent, just listening to him talk made him even more nauseated. The heat coming from all sides, his constricting clothes, his churning stomach, it was already too much, he was nearing his limit.

“Listen”, he started, then paused to swallow when his mouth seemed to flood with saliva. The bard looked at him expectantly, then to his hand when it hovered over the filled glass. “If I give you this, will you leave me be?”

“Of course!”, Venti exclaimed, already reaching over the table to take his prize. “Wait, why do you want to be alone so bad?”

”Again, that is none of your business”, Diluc repeated, emphasizing the harshness of the phrase. “Just take it and go.”

“Don't be like that. At least let me properly enjoy it”, the bard said, bringing the glass to his lips with misplaced grace, but taking a swig as if it was a bottle of some cheap booze. He drained the cup in two more distasteful gulps, licking his lips as he put it back on the table. “Oh boy, this is amazing. You don't happen to have more, do you?”

“Venti”, he hissed and pinched the bridge of his nose when all of his headaches seemed to momentarily gather there. It was getting worse, he could feel his mouth filling with saliva again. “Just leave. I… I'm not feeling well.”

“Oh…”, realization flashed in his eyes for a second, only to be replaced by confusion. “Wait, you're sick? I would've never…”

“What part of leave do you not–?”, Diluc suddenly raised his voice, only to be cut off by a threatening gag that had him clasping a hand over his mouth.

“Oh no, are you going to vomit?”, the bard jumped off his chair, not waiting for the answer before he scurried off. “Hold on just a minute”, he shouted from a far.

Diluc didn't dare to respond, he just clenched his eyes shut and squeezed, trying to focus on holding anything from come up. Luckily Venti returned quickly, a wooden bucket in hand he had picked off some corner.

“Here, use this”, he instructed, shoving the bucket on the sick man's lap, right in time for him to bury his head into it, an audibly wet gag leaving him. “Phew… I made it. It's okay, just, uh, try to get it up.”

Diluc wrapped his arms around the bucket, bracing for the next gag with his lips parted. He could feel his stomach clenching, his abdomen sinking in as it pushed its contents up his esophagus, then out his mouth in a violent gush of acid.

“URgHhH”, he retched again, the sound scraping his throat, and spat, trying to rid his mouth of the burning taste. “Fuck, I– guh.”

His face burned bright when he felt Venti's hand sliding up and down his arched back, soft shushes following the motion. He could only groan in response, nausea slurring anything he could think of saying, the constant up and down only serving to make him dizzier.

Diluc heaved, bringing up another clumpy mouthful of stomach acid into the bucket along a string of wet coughs, it sounded like he was drowning. He spat, frowning at the lingering taste, and weakly raised his head from the bucket. Venti appeared in his vision, lending one of his whites sleeves to clean his face. He felt so exhausted he couldn't even protest, the nausea wasn't gone yet, but he couldn't handle the awful stench right under his nose.

“Are you sure you didn't drink?”, the bard asked as he retrieved his newly stained arm, not even batting an eye at it. “If you're really sick then we should start worrying.”

“I-I didn't…”, he rasped, sniffling almost dejectedly. Venti raised his eyebrows, then reached for his face, landing the back of his hand on his forehead. He didn't protest, his fingers were cool and soft against his burning skin. “Am I warm?”

“Yup, definitely…”, he nodded, trailing off as he cupped his cheek, lingering there as he looked the man in the eye again. “...fever.”

Diluc's gaze seemed to be lost somewhere as he fought against the swirling feeling in the pit of his stomach. Venti's words barely registered despite the request, he was standing so close to him, practically glued to his side, it was almost like he could let himself fall onto him.

“You should go back inside, and take a cold bath or something, before it gets even worse.”

“No, it's… so crowded in there”, he nearly whispered, blinking when his vision seemed to flicker.

Venti sighed almost longingly and turned to pull another chair closer. “Alright then, I can stay a little longer.”

[danafeelingsick]

ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀs ғᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀs

NON-KINK BLOGS AND MINORS DNI

Takes place during the Summertime Odyssey event of 2.8, where Aether meets up with his friends for drinks and Kazuha ends up drinking past what he can handle. And Venti finds out he is a quite squeamish.

ᴀᴏ3

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ alcohol abuse, mentions of alcoholism, dizziness, two sickies, two caretakers, descriptions of vomiting, vomiting in public, headaches, nausea, fever, burping, coughing, crying

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ 4.2k~

A/N admittedly i wrote this a while ago, at the start of the archipelago event, but i kinda forgot about it altogether, so here it is now. first time i try two sickies, exciting

       Kazuha woke up to a headache brewing inside his skull, leading to an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes. His head felt light as if he was floating in plain air, his neck outstretched to reach the clouds. It would've explained why every gulp of stale saliva he took seemed to stop midway.

         It took him a moment to fully realize the world around him. Someone seemed to be calling him, from all directions, sometimes far away corner, then nearly glued to his ear. He flinched when he felt a tight squeeze on his shoulder, the hairs on his neck standing on end.

         Then finally, he managed to open his eyes, finding a familiar face blurring around the contours, colors smudging together, the whole plain tilting. His body felt limp, almost sluggish as he tried to move, realizing now he was inches away from burying his nose on a wooden floor.

         “Traveler?”, he slurred, his words barely understandable. His jaw clenched, holding his teeth from clattering together, he felt so cold he could start shivering.

         “Kazuha, are you awake?”, he heard Aether call, his voice coming from above him, and he realized who that gloved hand belonged.

         “When did I...?”, he started, words dying in throaty grunts before he could formulate more. A sharp pang ran through his head, making him flinch, his headache blossoming into a more concentrated migraine. ”Ugh...”

         Kazuha groaned, raising a hand to clutch at his head, but his movements were uncoordinated, clumsily, landing unsteady fingers on his cheek. Heat sparked under his digits, but it felt out of place when his lips trembled out of the cold.

         On his stomach, there was an uncomfortable fullness bending his lean abdomen into a plump curve, and yet there was a hollowness right in the middle. A false heat spread steadily, a burning cold, more like his insides had been frostbitten. It stung the organ's inner walls, plaguing his esophagus and bringing a raw metallic taste to his mouth. He tried to swallow, but the motion had his throat spasming slightly, threatening to make him gag when the small bit of drool seemed to weigh on his belly.

         The ronin felt a warm touch land at his forehead, drifting to his cheek, cupped in what he concluded were the traveler's bare hands. He nuzzled into the touch for a moment, seeking its comfort and wishing it lingered for more than it already did before trailing down to his neck. He let out a needy whimper when he no longer felt it, seeing the traveler chuckle slightly.

         “I never thought you'd be that much of a lightweight, but you really are drunk, huh?”, the traveler commented, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. “C'mon, let me help you up.”

         A pair of dexterous hands slipped under his arms, holstering the drunk ronin to his feet. The sudden motion had his head snapping back, his limbs helplessly flailing as he hurriedly went to cup his middle. His gut sloshed uncomfortably, its contents noticeably swirling inside, making him think in detail of how it felt to be seasick.

         But he wasn't in the Alcor anymore, he had long since left the life of a tripulant to roam once more, but once his body grew used to its new sea legs, it wouldn't be easy to forget them. Kazuha swayed in place, his knees trembling like dry twigs threatening to snap under a gust of wind.

         Bubbles seemed to vibrate inside his tummy, mixing with the liquid to create a volatile concoction that gurgled up his throat, bringing a vile bitter taste to his mouth. There was nothing more than booze in his stomach, the only solid parts being the fruit of the cocktails he had been tricked into having, only contributing to the risky situation brewing there. Kazuha parted his lips, anticipating a small burp that tasted faintly acidic, he had to put a fist to his mouth, apologizing.

         “Here, careful”, the traveler instructed, guiding Kazuha to take a step back, then sitting him back at the table. Afraid he could just topple back to the floor, he held his shoulder against the wall, the only thing keeping him from folding like a sack of flour.

         “Poor Kazuha...”, a voice he recalled to be Xinyan's lamented. “So drunk he's falling off his chair.”

         “I easily drank double what he did”, another voice bolstered, that bard clad in green he had just met, Venti. He didn't even sound like he was slurring. “He better work on his tolerance, or else he won't be able to keep up.”

         “No one can keep up with you, you... deaf bard”, Paimon responded, the accusatory tone barely contained, as if there was more to be said.

         Little by little, Kazuha recollected the bits of information that were missing, and almost instantly he could notice that strong bitter aftertaste of alcohol permeating his tongue. The memory of sampling it, how the liquid tasted like it was biting the inside of his mouth, burning on the way down, and that sharp smell... How come he didn't notice?

         “Ughhh...”, he groaned again, bringing a hand to his belly, feeling the organ toss and turn under the loose fabrics of his outfit. “What was in that... juice?”

         The traveler gave a knowing, albeit dry chuckle, followed by the bard's mocking snickers.

         “You should order an apple cider to sober him up, traveler”, he suggested, clumsily setting down a mug, the fresh gulps of his drink still audible in his voice. “Actually order two just in case.”

         At thought of it, Kazuha's mouth watered and he could almost taste the acidic pull of fermented apples, his throat bobbed uncertainty and he shook his head.

         “Please...”, he grunted, pressing a fist to his lips when a careless burp slipped past him, his cheeks bulging to contain the next one. “I can't... drink anymore...”

         “Hah, that's funny. Just now you were mumbling more, more, more while you sleep”, Paimon mocked, trying to liken her voice to his drunken ramblings.

         Kazuha would've found the humor in it if it wasn't for his nagging headache growing worse by the second, his vision tilted. He tried to raise his eyes, not taking that hand off his mouth, the salty smell of his old bandages leaving him lightheaded, and met the dim lanterns of the tavern. The traveler must've noticed his look of desperation, the grasp on his shoulder getting tighter.

         “Think you can try some water, then?”, he suggested, leaning closer like someone would do to hear a child speak.

         “Mm-mmm”, he muttered, shaking his head slightly, his tongue squirming in the imaginary bare taste. Just the thought of adding anything else to his stomach had his throat clenching, winding up for a gag he tried to suppress. “Mmm.”

         Kazuha could feel the color draining from his face, his skin growing a degree colder, and he cupped his mouth shut, trying to breathe carefully through his nose. It could've been the thought of food, or just the booze finally getting to him, but something had spiked deep shuddering nausea swirling in the pit of his stomach.

         “I feel...”, he tried to speak, but his words sounded wet somehow, slurs dripping with raw nausea muffled behind his hand.

         He couldn't entertain the feeling for long, however, it grew from a general unwellness to a blaring threat in what seemed like seconds in his drunken state. He squeezed his mouth shut, pressing his lips into a thin line as the gagging started, no longer able to lock his gullet and suppress them. Muffled gulps denounced his state and his chest hitched, bordering on uncontrollable heaves as he tried to grip whatever was nearby as a last-ditch effort, Aether's wrist.

         “What's wrong?”, he asked almost innocently, lowering himself to Kazuha's level.

         “Traveler, you two might want to step out for a bit. C'mon”, Venti suddenly suggested, starting to get up from his seat, but his movements were as graceful as a drunken goose, and he nearly tripped over his own feet. Xinyan scrambled to grab him.

         “Oh! A-Alright, hold on”, Aether's eyes went wide as the urgency of the situation dawned on him, and promptly he tried to help Kazuha to his feet. The ronin wouldn't budge an inch, his feet were planted to the floor, his hand locked painfully around Aether's wrist. “Come on, Kazuha...”

         The drunk samurai could only shake his head stubbornly, unable to bring himself to move. Foolishly he thought he still had a moment to spare, to stay still and let the nausea ease up before he could attempt such a risky move, but somewhere in the middle of that nod, his stomach decided it had enough.

         A wet gurgle traveled up his esophagus, erupting in the back of his throat and flooding his mouth in an instant. His cheeks puffed out like a balloon about to burst, taking a worrying shade of red as regurgitated wine dyed the inside of his mouth. The taste was vile, sweet, and acidic like spoiled fruit, making his tongue curl, it took everything in him to not commit it to memory.

         For a second he thought could hold it in, his eyes were watering from the effort of locking his throat. Getting sick was nothing new to him, living as a wanderer provided him with plenty of opportunities for that, but now it was different. Alcohol left him powerless.

         Aether saw it, and tried to lift Kazuha again, but there was still a gentleness to his actions. As if there was some unregistered strength he was afraid to use. The pulling, even if delicate, jostling Kazuha's frame, making his head bob, sending him further into nausea.

         His stomach and chest heaved in sync, pushing its liquified contents up his throat, adding to the volume in his cheeks. The taste, even stronger, seeping into his tongue… He gagged harshly, finally breaking, and a cloudy purplish red liquid burst through his lips and out his nostrils.

         Vomit sprayed violently through the crack of his fingers, no matter how much he pressed, it coated his bandaged hand in that deep blood color, soaking into the ties.

         “Ack, no. No, no, no”, Venti jumped out of his seat, one hand covering his mouth as he suddenly paled.

         “Eek!”, Paimon shrieked from behind the traveler and flew to the other side of the table, where she hovered closer to Xinyan for safety.

         The traveler was frozen in place, torn between the choice of freeing himself and skipping from the line of fire, but leaving Kazuha without anything to hold onto while he heaved. He looked down in time to see something red pour over his golden boots. He could only shudder in disgust, shooting Kazuha a look of pity. The ronin sounded like he was drowning.

         “Mmm, guh–”, he choked, trying to muffle the sounds, but the gurgling in his throat was unmistakable.

         His eyes nearly drove back when he next gagged, his chest jumping to give room for another wave of regurgitated wine. It came up so forcefully that his hand nearly leaped out of his mouth.

         It felt like he didn't have control over his body anymore. All the alcohol and juice he had drank that night shot out of his mouth, splattering with a surprisingly soft sound as his hand flew out. The shock had made him release his grip around Aether's wrist, but it didn't help the fact that he had already covered up to his thighs in vomit.

         The ronin panted harshly, tears welling up in his eyes as his mind raced, conjuring so many apologies he couldn't utter. He could only wish it would be over soon, that the alcohol would make him forget that horrible night. By the archons, he would never show his face in Mondstadt again.

         “Whoa!”, Xinyan exclaimed from the other side of the table, finally getting up herself, nearly bumping into Venti as she backed away. The bard looked as stiff as a statue. “You okay there, buddy?‘

         “Oh no... Not you too!”, Paimon pleaded, backing away.

         Venti didn't hear her, he was still standing there, trying to look away from the disaster unfolding, but his eyes were wide open. His own throat was now bobbing, his tongue growing heavier inside his mouth, his saliva growing thicker. And without even realizing it, he found himself gagging as well.

         It was when Kazuha started retching that he couldn't hold it any longer. The sharp guttural sound of the samurai's throat scraping, the gurgling wet belch cut by a harsh spill, the constant struggled sobs. It had him thinking of his own sloshing stomach filled to the brim with booze.

         “That's... bad”, he panted, his mouth dripping, his voice distorted by revulsion. “That's r-really bad– URP!”

         Venti hurriedly spun on his heels, grabbing the attention of the last patrons who weren't staring at Kazuha already, including Xinyan. She could've sworn she saw him turn into a flurry of feathers as he bolted for the corner, trailing a path that should've knocked a chair over.

         The bard seemingly reappeared against the wall of the tavern, fiercely holding onto it, back turned to the audience as he promptly purged the contents of his stomach all over the wooden floor.

         “Welp, one more”, Xinyan sighed and followed after him, leaving Paimon to float anxiously as she watched the scene.

         Aether heard the scurring of heels gaining distance but didn't let that take his attention away from Kazuha. The drunken samurai buckled forward with another violent retch, spilling another mouthful of his stomach contents squarely over his boots. The traveler looked past it as he went to stabilize him, holding both his shoulders as he started to slump.

         While he tended to his friend, there was vomit soaking into his pants, quickly cooling as the fabric glued to his skin, but Aether didn't have it in him to be mad. Kazuha looked so pitiful that it made his heart ache and even ignore the sharp stench of spoiled fruit and alcohol.

         “C-Come on, Kazuha. Can you stand up?”, he tried in vain, finding no signs of an improvement in the ronin's condition. “We shouldn't stay here.”

         His plea fell on deaf ears. Kazuha simply buried his head between his legs, waiting with his mouth open while more violent retches wrecked his small frame. Seeing him tremble and spasm like that took a toll on Aether's sympathy and he leaned over, landing a hand on his back. He was shivering under the loose fabrics.

         Aether sighed quietly, gently patting Kazuha's back as the dry retching became harsher as if he was struggling to come up with more, but nowhere near done. His muscles felt sharp under his skin, winding up to launch him forward every time he heaved.

         “Easy there. It's okay”, he tried to soothe, but Kazuha wasn't listening.

         In the middle of his retching, one suddenly broke off into a gush of alcoholic puke, thoroughly soaking his own socks. The vomit splattered mercilessly, sounding too much like an open faucet pouring over the hard floor. The samurai gasped greedily in between bouts, barely able to catch his breath before more liquid erupted out of him.

         Aether found himself swallowing a lump of disgust in his throat, trying his damnedest to not look at the multi-colored puddle beneath both of their feet. At least the sounds were drowning out the patron's chatter, he couldn't help but feel his chest grow cold every time he caught their names in a whisper. It was inevitable, the tavern was nearly packed full.

         Kazuha let out a pitiful moan as his vomiting finally tapered off, coughing wetly over the disgusting puddle soaking into his socks. His head was spinning wildly, that otherwise sharp twinge in the side of his skull now an unbearable ache that felt like it was trying to squeeze his eyeballs, his brain had long turned into mush.

         His mouth was left open, unable to close as dense threads of bile and drool hung from his lips, connecting to the lines of snot pouring from his nose. He didn't even realize when he started crying, but now his chest shook with contained sobs, his throat gluing itself shut whenever he tried to suck in a breath.

         He could at least feel the traveler's presence nearby, his hand weighing on his back in a somewhat comforting way. It would've been better if he didn't feel like he was about to fall over.

         His bruised stomach murmured and he brought a shaking hand to it, nearly flinching when the organ immediately responded by sprouting a dull ache. The spell had been so violent, the heaving so grating, his gut was trying to turn itself out, expel until the last drop of alcohol left inside of it.

         “Mmm... ugh”, Kazuha whimpered as he tried to move, barely an inch off the chair and he felt swift hands lace around him.

         “Are you done?”, the traveler spoke from above him. “Kazuha?”

         “Hmm? Mm-hum. I-I think... think so”, he nodded weakly, his stomach following. His voice was coarse, barely a whisper as coat upon coats of acid had rendered his throat nearly useless.

         Aether remained in silence for a bit, watching Kazuha slowly regain his senses one by one, bringing a shaky soiled hand to wipe his mouth clean. Picking a napkin off the table, Aether lowered himself to his level once more and gently lifted his face.

         Kazuha grunted as his cheeks were squeezed by a thumb and an indicator, but didn't try to fight it. He couldn't even if he wanted to, so he stayed quiet as the traveler thoroughly cleaned his face, and then his nose. It barely made a difference, there was vomit on his feet, as well as his lap, and not to mention all over Aether, but it still gave Kazuha just the slightest bit of comfort.

         “Diluc's going to kill us...”, he heard Paimon say from somewhere, the name unfamiliar to him, but Aether seemed to twitch as he heard it.

         “L-let's hope not...”, he mumbled, looking down as he crumpled the napkin. “I wouldn't—”

         "BuuU- urRGH… bLEeeRgHHh!", a harsh retch coming from a far corner cut him off, and Aether turned his head to find a green silhouette against the wall, the antic clothes standing out against the more humbly-dressed patrons.

         “Looks like Venti hasn't built much of a tolerance either”, Aether commented with a humorless chuckle, but Kazuha was too far buried in his own misery to care.

         Meanwhile, stashed in the far, less populated corner of the tavern, Venti heaved miserably, while Xinyan carefully held his braids back, keeping them away from the line of fire. Not that it did much, Venti was easily one of the messiest pukers she had ever seen, not even a seasick pirate, or a drunken one compared.

         She had run after him, thinking this would've been over quick enough and they would be able to avoid another mess, but Venti barely heaved before he started spewing. A sizable wave of alcoholic puke surged out of him, and she could almost tell when his body prepared itself to expel it.

         His shoulders locked, his neck stiffening before his head drooped, he let out a drowning gurgle and vomit came rushing out of him like a faucet. Nearly pure liquid splattered between his feet, like rain falling all at once, taking on an unhealthy brownish red color as it puddled on the wooden boards. Somehow it reminded her of chicken broth, but Liyue's cuisine was the last thing she should've been thinking about.

         “Take it easy, bud. Here, let me help ya”, she said, pulling his braids out of the line of fire. Not a second to rest before he started dry heaving, his body wouldn't let up, making her think he could end up slamming his head on the wall if he wasn't careful. “Easy, easy.”

         Venti tried to say something, more like a warning, but between the intense gagging and the wet gasps, she couldn't make it out. He clutched at the wall, feeling as if his stomach was desperately trying to turn itself out. He refused to believe he had become this squeamish. He, who had survived through the archon war, reduced to a miserable queasy mess. Unable to hold his liquor in the middle of a packed full bar.

         “...guh– huUUuRrrRkK!”, he retched, feeling Xinyan's grasp on his hair tighten, not following his sudden lurch, and again, another continuous stream of vomit poured out of him. “EeURrGhh, ugghh.”

         “You're good, I gotchu”, she reassured him, sounding genuinely comforting, her blazing enthusiasm still living on, even in such a pitiful situation. “Gee, that's a lot.”

         To Venti it was just another day of sustaining a human form with real limits and downsides, but he wouldn't trade it for anything. Not even his gnosis back. Even if someday he caught himself thinking of how it would've been if he had just…

         Venti broke into empty gags as the vomiting tapered off, waiting for his stomach to stop throbbing before he tried swallowing again. Groaning almost dejectedly, he ran a white sleeve under his nose, thoroughly cleaning his face while he sniffed. His nostrils were burning with the mixture of alcohol and acid, and his tongue tasted utterly vile.

         “Lord Barbatos…”, he muttered out of habit, but always failing to realize the irony in using his own name in vain. “What was that…? I swear I'm not weak to alcohol.”

         “You can say that again. I saw you down whole bottles. You'd be a big shot at the Alcor”, Xinyan stitched his thought while she let go of his hair. “But try to lay off the alcohol for tonight, alright? For Kazuha's sake.”

         “Y-Yeah, ugh. Watching… that… happen, I think I might, for a whole two days”, he frowned, avoiding looking in that direction. “I'm… feeling a little off now.”

         “It's okay, don'tcha worry”, Xinyan said, peeling one of Venti's hands off the wall and throwing it over her shoulder.

         Venti barely registered the walk, Xinyan dragged so swiftly he didn't even feel his feet touch the ground. He tried opening his eyes as they stopped, finding Aether and Kazuha amidst a sea of red wine covering the floorboards. He had to close his eyes again, wrinkling his nose.

         “Traveler, we should get going”, he heard her say. “This one's out for the count too.”

         The bard groaned in response, grimacing at the terrible taste in his mouth. Aether nodded, frowning as his eyes landed on Venti, another drunk disaster on their hands.

         “How's Kazuha?”, she asked while pulling a chair for Venti and carefully seating him down. “Is he complaining of headaches? Do you think this fella just rushed the hangover he'll be having tomorrow?”

         “Hey, Kazuha?”, Aether called, lifting his head with a thumb, his eyes were glossy, but he still managed a soft huff to show he was awake. “Does your head hurt?”

         “Mmm...”, he nodded weakly, almost imperceptible, swallowing before he tried to speak. “My-my... stomach t-too...”

         To that Aether raised his eyebrows, instinctively going to feel his forehead again, finding a slight heat irradiating from it. A small hum left him as he drifted to his neck, supporting Kazuha's head on his hand as he did so.

         “It might not be. We should probably play it safe and take him Barbara”, he suggested, looking at Xinyan, who was tending to Venti, doing the same. “Actually, we should bring the two of them.”

         “Me? No. I'm fine, you two...”, the bard murmured without opening his eyes, his throat bobbing as he kept swallowing. “I'm not even drunk.”

         “Is he always like this?”, Xinyan asked, raising an eyebrow, to which Aether merely shrugged. “Alright, can you look after these two? I'll go close our tabs, and, well, apologize for the mess. Apologize a lot.”

         The traveler agreed, getting up to his feet, but without leaving Kazuha's side. The ronin seemed more aware now, his eyes darting across the tavern, red and welled up with tears. When they landed on Aether again, spotting the cold vomit stain all over his thighs, they went wide.

         “You must be so mad at me...”, he muttered, choking on a sob. “I'm so sorry. I promise I'll repay you for the clothes somehow.”

         “Hey, I'm not. So just forget that, alright?”, Aether waved him off, trying to sound just a little softer. “How are you feeling now?”

         “Like... ugh, it feels like my head is trying to kill me”, he groaned, all of his graceful politeness spilled along with his stomach contents. “I'm never trying Mondstadt's wine ever again. It's so... fruity you don't even realize you're drinking it until…”

         “Hum… I'd think Inazuman sake would be much stronger than that”, Aether recalled.

         “Don't even get me started…”

         They didn't have much longer to divulge on that, Xinyan had managed to wipe her frown off and was looking a little more cheerful for it.

         “All's set. Let's get going”, she said, propping Venti over her shoulder again.

         “I guess you're gonna have to carry me, huh?” Kazuha pointed out, trying to sound more playful than pitiful, but he didn't exactly achieve that.

         “You're lucky we weigh about the same because you owe now”, Aether shot back, lowering himself again while draping Kazuha's arm over his shoulder. “Come on, up we go.”

         Aether lifted him off ease, his soiled feet barely touched the ground as they walked off the tavern through the back door and out into the cold streets of a sleepy Mond. Xinyan followed closely, carrying her own drunkard.

         After all that, Aether was sure Kazuha wouldn't be coming back for a visit any time soon. But there was still a lot to happen.