#a heatpack is soothing but only goes so far | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ajaxpilled · 7 months

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How would 5nemo react to stomach pains? I love the whole 5 anemo boy polycule 🥺

apologies for the mess (and lateness) im writing on the rush hour train :""

venti is used to stomachaches; too many sparkling ciders and sour apples have left him with enough hangovers and reflux to be a little too familiar with the concept. he brushes it off in public, but in privacy with his partners he makes a scene of melodrama and self-pity - telling kazuha that he thinks he's dying, that he can't lead a nation of freedom in this state, and pleasewillyoumakemesomesoup. he sprawls across heizou's lap, groaning and throwing an arm over his eyes with a sigh, and my stomach really hurts heizou, can't you kiss it better?

heizou ignores any twinges or pains in his stomach in favour of more urgent matters. he works on through lunch, and pretends the hollow ache growing steadily just under his rib cage doesn't exist, instead opting to bury himself back into the report he's working on. it's easy to ignore - it's just the usual churning nausea his stomach pesters him with when he's too busy to eat, or consuming too much caffiene. nothing he can't brush off. nothing worth losing his flow for. he occasionally slips his hand over his stomach, adding a little pressure to soothe the cramps he's beginning to experience. if somebody asks, he has no problem admitting his stomach is a little off, but is always baffled when they sympathetically tell him to take it easy or go home. it's just a sore stomach after all. something everybody gets everyday, right? just a part of life. some days even he knows he goes a little too long without eating, or eats something too heavy on his starved stomach. kazuha fails to hide his deadpan "told you so" expression when he finds him hiding around the corner, doubled over and clutching his stomach, eyebrows furrowed and deep breaths coming difficultly.

it's the times he's quiet that it really hurts. reminiscing on days gone by and friends long gone until he makes himself ill, his chest sinking endlessly and his stomach tying in knots over all the things he could've done differently. he curls up in bed to avoid everybody. the only person he wants to see when he feels this way is xiao - who's there in an instant when his name passes through venti's head, a silent, longing thought in passing, but he's there all the same. he wordlessly slips into the bed and holds the bard in his arms. he doesn't know much in the ways of treatment. he doesn't know much about keeping the sadness away. what he has learned, is that burdens are more easily shouldered when shared amongst others; and so he plays with his hair and rubs his tummy the way he likes it, with slow, wide circles. he brings him apple slices and herbal teas that will be light on his stomach when he has no appetite and brushes his hair when he stays in bed for far too long, caring for his love's fragile mortal frame for as long as need be.

again...?

it's just a stomachache.

...you need to take your health more seriously. you won't be in so much pain all the time.

with a sad sigh he takes heizou home and makes him a soothing green tea and a heatpack for his stomach - the food he made to bring to his office lies abandoned, the detective unable to eat from the nausea. on weeks like these he makes him soup and feeds him small bites of toast as they play cluedo and deception and scrabble - kazuha's kitsune and sakura and riviera blemished by heizou's trespassing and bludgeon and homicide. he reads him thrillers and murder mysteries as he rubs away the pains in his head and his stomach, more often than not solved before he can finish them. by the end of the week, heizou's aches are gone - his mind has been taken off work with games and books, his stomach kept full with warm and nutritious food. his face is brighter and he's calm, peaceful. kazuha takes it in with a soft sigh - it will only be so long until another particularly invigorating case consumes him, and kazuha has to nurse his caffiene jitters and stomachaches away again.

wanderer is acting weird. well, he's always a little weird, but he keeps standing in awkward positions and shifting uncomfortably, keeps suddenly turning to hide his face as he covers it, is snapping at heizou even more so than usual - even at venti's joking attempts to cheer him up. noticing him ghosting a hand over his stomach, venti wraps his arms around him, resting his hands over the gentle curve of his stomach. he's trembling lightly. he's a bit too warm. but he seems to relax - and venti relaxes too, until he asks "what's going on in here that has you so upset, then?" with a teasing rub and - he didn't mean to try to help. he knows better than that - but it's too late, and wanderer pulls away with a scowl, claiming he doesn't need his help, that he's being clingy and annoying. the bard swallows the hurt, plastering on an understanding smile and giving him the space he needs. the tight pain in wanderer's stomach is now accompanied with the dull ache of regret in his chest, but pride stops him from taking back his words.

it's when venti visits the next evening to apologise that he notices something is off. wanderer's hair is pushed back off his face, for one, which seems damp and even paler than usual - he's pressing a hand to his stomach. his perpetual scowl is replaced with hazy, unfocused eyes, his usual defensive posture weakened with shakey exhaustion. with a soft sigh of understanding, venti closes the door behind him and holds the back of his hand to wanderer's feverish forehead.

even i need help at times, he chides. and i'm actually an archon.

once they're home alone, away from the prying eyes of others, wanderer allows himself to be vulnerable - he quietly asks for belly rubs and headrubs. he allows venti to wipe his tears and rub his back when he's hunched over the toilet, stomach emptying itself of its contents. he lets him hold him in his lap and hum soft melodies, pressing a washcloth to his forehead or the back of his neck. with the cool breeze the anemo archon brings with him and the soothing warmth his delicate hands provide his stomach with, wanderer finally finds himself drifting off to sleep.

kazuha doesn't get sick often. his immune system is strong from so many years of travelling in the great, but unforgiving, outdoors - and he likes to think he's a healthy guy and nourishes his body as it needs. healthier than heizou, at the very least. and venti. and - well. most of his stubborn boyfriends.

he's unable to keep up with xiao while sparring one day. a chill has set in his bones, and the wind seems to be working against him, no longer at the beck and call of his fingertips. it's harsher than usual. colder than usual. he's running out of breath, his grip slips on his sword, he can't find his footing. something invisible pushes down on his chest and he holds back an itch in his throat. xiao has always had great talent when he fights. he is one of the few more skilled and effortless than kazuha on the battlefield, but he doesn't remember him being this good. he doesn't even notice when xiao almost injures him when he drops his sword, doubling over to let deep chested coughs rack his body, unable to hold them back anymore. tears sting his eyes and his throat burns and his nose is running and he can't stop coughing. standing up brings stars into his vision and a spinning meadow around him - spinning until it's suddenly rising above him and - oh. xiao has caught him halfway to the ground. a concerned frown pinches his face as he looks down on him struggling to his feet.

kazuha knows, unlike his boyfriends, that he can't care for his body the way it needs him to when he falls ill. not that he needs to ask for help. xiao doesn't understand much about the mortal body, but he knows kazuha isn't well, and doesn't want to leave him on his own in such a vulnerable state that he can't even hold his own while sparring. it hurts. kazuha's throat hurts, and his chest feels so unbearably heavy, and breathing is much harder than it should be. his stomach hurts from the relentless coughing. even with his voice taking a leave of absence, xiao knows just what to do. he brings him honeyed tea with ginger and peppermint, wraps him up in warm scarves and rubs his back during fits. he soothes the aching muscles in his stomach with heat packs and salted herbal baths, gently running his hands over the sensitive skin as he drifts off in a freshly made bed afterwards.

xiao doesn't mind looking after him. he likes spending time holed up with him, cozy and warm in bed and away from the bad weather and violence outside. he didn't understand much, at first, about looking after mortal illnesses, but he's learned a lot over time. it's when all four of his partners have caught the same cold from each other and all need looking after - particularly with wanderer's stubborness and heizou's drama - that he suddenly wishes he could go back to defending the lands of liyue and run away from the endless stream of requests for teas and medicines and cuddles, surrounded by pathetically runny noses and hoarse voices.

"i said i'm fine."

but despite his grumblings, he doesn't really mind - it's rare enough he gets to spend time with all of them. and they take care of him when the situation calls for it - strange mortal food cramping tightly, bad karma causing him to retch from feverish nausea, injuries no matter how big or small. venti holds him quietly, plays with his hair and holds it back for him, rubs his back when his stomach is too sensitive and lets him tear up and cry shamefully into his shoulder. heizou's incoherent ramblings and high energy distract him enough to be able to ignore the pains, and while his awkward imitations of kazuha's caretaking don't do much, the thought behind it is sweet - kazuha gently coaxes him to take medicines and reapplies ice or heat as needed, letting him drift in and out of consciousness on his shoulder as he plays quiet songs on his zither or scritches out lines of poetry. xiao asks what the foreign words mean and kazuha's voice is soft and saccharine when he reads out his verses, and suddenly he's not so sick or painful anymore as he's pulled into another land crafted upon paper. and wanderer - he's the only one to match his stubborness, his obstinate denial.

"i didn't ask. just made too much damn tea."

his navy blue eyes are a little too intense as he watches him take a sip of the honey sweet drink - weird, for wanderer's bitter tastes - and the frown between his eyebrows lessens slightly as he takes a drink. if he continues making too much tea, and silently shoves heatpacks in his direction and traces light patterns on his stomach after xiao spends too much time not at all getting sick in the bathroom; he doesn't say anything. he only mutters a small thank you when he wakes up in his bed after falling asleep on the bathroom floor. sometimes, things feel better like this. feel safer. he feels like he's understood. words are terribly overrated altogether - and now there is finally somebody else who can speak his silent language and take care of him in a way that comforts him.

#writing on the train rn so apologies for how bad this is </3 #oh i love 5nemo so very dearly #gen #sickfic #tw depression #implied ? i wouldnt consider it that but Just In Case #projecting onto nd hexzou SORRY #emeto

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