#my snz ocs

[dampsleeves]

Ight I managed to squeeze out 6 pages,, more coming eventually but idk ab soon (life is life-ing lol) so uhh yea this what we got so far 💥😼

#spiidervent #snzblr #snz #snz kink #sneezeblr #sneeze kink #spiiderart #oc eden & oc forrest #ocs eden and forrest my beloved <3

[choofeyrac]

Two guys sharing a cold and going down on their snzfucker girlfriend. Trading out which one of them is eating her out and which one is sneezing into her thighs

#snz #snzarios #One day I’ll introduce you to my OCs who this is for #It’s Bo Ivy and Sammie #Also I should write more poly sapphics (this is unrelated but I should)

[zensations35]

It's Manual Fucking Labor (Luci/fer)

Been working on this one for a bit. I love the delicious rivalry between Al and Luci, so I toyed with that a bit and made it spicy with some snz. I also am really enjoying the text flair I'm getting to play with for all these characters, so I hope yall are liking that. Ahaha. Enjoy!!

“That one needs to go over here!” Charlie points as she heaves one of the freshly slated planks of wood for the hotel revamp. “Can you cut three more for us, dad?” she smiles sweetly at Lucifer who sits crosslegged in front of a pile of wood.

He nods, dragging the back of his arm across his forehead.  “I, uh, I’ll go head and do that, sure.” 

Her eyes are bright and full, like the sun he never saw. “Dad,” she beams at him, “thank you for this.”

He tilts his head, “For what, Char Char?”

“For helping. For putting in so much effort. For,” she pats one of the planks, “for wanting to do it this way.”

Lucifer’s brows rise. “Th-this way?”

Charlie strides off before he can ask her to elaborate. His eyes flick back to the uncut wood and his lips tip down in a pout. 

“Problem?” A staticky trill sends Lucifer’s hackles up. 

“What?” Lucifer snaps, grabbing one of the slabs of wood, dragging a sharp claw deftly down the middle and cutting it as if it were a razor saw. Small fluffy flakes snow the air around him, making his cheeks fuzz. “Hhhfff…” his brow scrunches and a flush spreads from the circles on his cheeks. “Hieh--HiSFFH!” 

Alastor skips over, peering down in amusement as sawdust skitters all around the fallen angel.

“Hm, quite shoddy,” the Radio Demon observes, tapping his cane against the plank with a squeal of feedback.

Lucifer finishes cutting the planks and coughs, wringing out his hands. “It’s manual labor, Alastor. I doubt you’d understand how to even do it.”

“Ooooh I see.” Alastor leans dolefully on his cane, “bonding with our dear Charlie with handmade projects?”

Lucifer sniffles, scrubbing his face with his whole fist. “Mh-hyep.”

The smugness surges by 60%. “Ohh, are we having trouble??” 

“No! Of hh-c-course n--” Lucifer’s voice starts to pitch higher and higher, “Hig’Sshieu!” 

Alastor lets out a keening laugh.

“Fuck off, Alastor, before I make you,” Lucifer growls.

Alastor tuts at him. “No need to be cranky, your highness.”  He pulls out a red and black handkerchief, but Lucifer waves it off with a cool huff. 

“I don’t need your hanky panky.”

A whistle of radio silence whines in their ears. Lucifer cocks a black eyebrow.

“What? What’d I say?” 

Alastor sighs and tucks the cloth back into his suit pocket. “Not that you’d use it without a nose, anyway.”

“Hey!” Lucifer snaps, fangs glinting. “It’s complicated!” 

“Far be it from me to inquire how your…extremities manifest.”

“You--snf--you--hieh!” 

Alastor cups a hand over his ear, patiently waiting for the rest of the sentence, nothing but sass in his daggerlike smirk. 

“I-I’m gonna--hhg’HGx’SHIeu!” This time, several puffs of flame escape from between his fangs, and Charlie finally realizes something is going on with her dad. 

She hurries over after setting down what she was working on. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

Lucifer palms the spreading flush on his cheek and gives an unconvincing bray of a laugh, “Noh-huh-thing! Nothing at all! Perfectly fine!”

Alastor hums, lifting one of the smaller slabs of wood, his stance casually askew. “Of course he is, Charlie!” he saunters toward Lucifer, ever the helpful little elf. “He was just about to get started on--oh, my, let me just…” the Radio Demon scrapes his hand across the wood, brushing the powder from the last sawing off of it and directly into Lucifer’s fucking face. “There we are! Oh dear…” Alastor feigns concern as small spirals of smoke begin to coil out of Lucifer’s snarled lips. 

That fuck! He did that on phhh-pur-hhh!

His face scrunches, fangs peeking, rimmed by an orange glow as he lets out high pitched whines, “Ieh hiiih! HIP’CHSS’IEψ!” flames mist like aerosol, catching the flakes of wood shavings and motes of dust in its heat, cooking them into flakes of gray ash. The hellfire rejoices but the King sighs. 

He wipes away fresh tears and lets a vague chuckle out. “Ah, Charlie, sweetie, perhaps we could speed up the process? I could just, ah,” he angles his elbows and dances his arms, “Zap a bap!” he does a little finger gun shot. “Yeah?”

“Ah, poor, Charlie,” Alastor clucks his tongue, fingers drumming across her shoulder, “I know how excited you were to do this by hand with your father--what was it you said? A bonding moment?” his voice is anything but altruistic. “But if he can’t handle it, I suppose it would be best to do things the easy way…” his teeth clack caustically.

Lucifer seethes. his teeth warping and curling. “I’m fine,” he decides, fighting back a throatful of air. 

“A-are you sure, dad?”

Lucifer flaps his hand dramatically. “Absotively! Don’t w-Huh! Worry!” 

Charlie doesn’t look one hundred percent convinced but if he says he’s fine, and wants to continue, then they’ll continue. She gives him two more boards to cut and hurries off to work on another section. 

Lucifer turns back to the unfinished planks, his shoulders simmering with translucent fog. Alastor continues to observe in silent amusement.

“Are you going to help at all?” 

“Maybe.”

Rrgh. Lucifer throws himself to a standing position, muttering under his breath. I swear to me, if Charlie didn't like that guy I would…

Well, there’s a lot he would do. Especially if he were…”Hiiet--” 

Fuck me to here!

 He needs to get a handle on the fucking fire. “Hgk…” Lucifer gulps the throatful of heat, his body taut with a shiver. His fingers squeeze the plank he’s holding and… ”Hi-ih-IEH⛧GHSHHIEUψu!” 

Instead of flames, five feathers pop out and flit around the short King, catching the breeze and running off into the wind. A couple of them float near Alastor who looks irritated at them, waving them away with a chop of his hand and a staticky, “How very uncouth…”

Lucifer’s pride flares and his grin grows wicked.

“Weelllll,” he unfurls his six wings, exaggerating them with a flex. “I better get this installed up there.” 

Lucifer quakes his wings and smacks them down, clouding the ground below his knees with dust and shavings. He shoots into the air, spinning away from the source of his allergens as he rubs at his teary eyes and flushed cheeks. 

Fuck Alastor, that prick. He deserves a bit of karma. Would Lucifer really be at fault if he were flying and he just happened to lose a few feathers? If they just by chance were to fall into that jackass’s face??

As Lucifer flies, a few feathers wilt from his wings--by accident of course! And, as predicted by divine oracle, they just happen to float down near the red haired Radio Demon, currently distracted while helping Charlie with something frivolous, Lucifer is certain. 

The feather drifts…soft downy catching the dying light in a soft pink glow. Slow, deliberate. It coils, totally by accident of course, right down beside the Radio Demon, and nudges the left side of his nostril. He blinks, now distracted from his work. His crimson eyes flit up but another brush of the cottony down makes his lids ripple shut.

“Hh-hh!” 

His shoulders spike and he thrusts a hand up to shoo away the feather, “Ss٨ﮩﮩZH! Hgk٨ـﮩﮩ” 

“Alastor!” Charlie spins in surprise when his mic clatters to the ground. 

He gives a feeble attempt to wave her away but she puts an arm around him comfortingly. 

“Are you alright? Maybe you should sit down. You just recovered after all--” 

Lucifer watches with an indignant pout as his daughter comforts the wrong person. He doesn’t miss the not-so-subtle flash of Alastor’s smug grin as he allows Charlie to lead him away, leaving Lucifer to finish the rest of the work by himself.

God fucking dammit.

#I haven't done sawdust allergies like EVER #and it's been on my mind since hubby did some manual LABOR AHAHA #so yeah i had to do this #next fic will likely be my ocs because i'm very nearly done with that LSSR fic #but for my haz/bin fam thank yall for pushing me to finish this!! #what a ride!! #snz #snz fic #zen fanfic #haz/bin #luc/ifer #al/astor #allergies #sawdust allergies #snzfic #zenfic

[hachiibun]

Looks like Tuesday's bunny nose is giving him some trouble~💜🐰

The adorable Tuesday comes from the mind of @sneezytomatosquish — and also fun fact: this was based on a couple of actual snz occurrences I've had the privilege of witnessing from Squish himself~

If you like my drawings, and are willing and able to do so, please consider pledging to my Patreon or donating through ko-fi ☕! You're not obliged to, but every bit helps to keep me living decently and I really do appreciate it!

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

#snz #snz kink #hachiisnzart #snz oc august #squish oc tuesday #squishocs #ppls ocs #hachiibunart #snz august august #i'll always adore this big violet bunny guy #sneezytomatosquish #love ya squish <3 #one more august august post after this (tho it might be after august ends actually) #i'm glad u guys have been enjoying my recent drawings <3

[virusdotsneeze]

SICKMAEL

Sick + Ish//mael = SICKMAEL

Drawing that was sparked through both my own cold + discussion with @saikyougeniusbuild

#snz kink #my oc #sneeze kink #snz #snez kink #snz art #snez #sneeze #sick #sick kink #cold

[sucker-for-sniffles]

Did someone order a loyal knight with a bad cold and his prince who loves him dearly trying to get him to rest for once in his life? Here’s 4k words of that, please enjoy these guys who barged into my head and won’t leave

—

As if negotiations in Halfford hadn’t gone poorly enough, Prince Robin thought, bouncing about uncomfortably in the back of his carriage, Sir Harper had started to catch cold a couple days into the journey home. Off of the Duke’s snot-nosed son, Robin had no doubt. The brat practically hung off Harper’s shirt all week, as if he were a fawning child rather than a man hardly any younger than Harper.

Harper made his ailment utterly unobtrusive, as always, his service unfailing. Any other company might not have realized he was ill at all. But Robin knew him too well to miss the edge of fatigue to his practiced smile, the soft sighs when he didn’t realize Robin was listening, the sneezes muffled into his cape just too often to pass off as coincidence.

And Robin knew him too well to say anything. Harper blamed himself for the disaster this trip had become, even if he didn’t want Robin to see as much. As if he ought to have prevented the storm that stalled them four days on the way to Halfford, or Duke Edward’s foul mood at the delay. With Harper on edge as he was, Robin didn’t have the words to ask after him without Harper taking it as a critique. He blamed his friend’s father for that. The old bastard was just the sort to wield “are you quite well?” as a blunt weapon.

Robin was in far too sour a mood for tact. On another day, he would walk beside the carriage and talk with Harper, but given the circumstances, he was better off sulking with the luggage. Even if he wound up with a bruise or two, he didn’t have to try so hard to bite his tongue with the creaks and clangs of the cart on the uneven road making conversation difficult already.

“It’s getting dark,” Harper called back. There was a fresh rasp to his voice accompanying the mounting congestion that marred his m’s and n’s. The poor man ought not to shout so. “If we press, we may reach an inn not long after sundown, but…”

“Let’s camp here.” Robin shifted carefully, extracting himself from the corner of the cart he’d wedged himself into. He didn’t want Harper doing any pressing.

“Very well, my lord.” A note of relief in Harper’s voice, well-masked but perceptible. The cart rumbled to a stop and creaked loudly as Harper stepped down from the driver’s seat.

Robin followed suit and crawled from the back of the cart, stretching out stiff and aching limbs. He really did prefer to walk. He circled around, intending to offer help, but paused when he saw Harper seize a fistful of his cape and bring it close to his face. His shoulders rose with his breath, once, twice—

Harper ducked into a rough, throaty sneeze, muffled harshly by the thick wool of his cape.

“Bless you.” Even that much, Robin worried would be unwelcome.

“Ah—tha’k you.” Harper dragged his cape roughly under his nose and sniffed with a determined finality. He smiled. “I am glad to see you in one piece after being tossed about like a sack of flour. What draws you to ride in the cart on roads like this, I can’t understand.” He set to unyoking the horses, leaving Robin to trail uselessly behind him.

“It isn’t so bad without armor clanging about you.” Robin rubbed his arms.

“Hah.” Harper lifted the yoke from the horses’ shoulders, a quick flash of pain crossing his face when the weight settled in his right arm. Was his shoulder bothering him, too? It was awfully cold this far north. “There’s no need to lie to me, my lord. I only wish I could give you privacy with a little more comfort.”

Robin huffed a laugh. “Alas, you are no magician. I am merely grateful my father didn’t insist on sending an entourage after us.” And he was, truly, whatever Harper might have thought. It isn’t as if thirty men could have fought off a storm that Harper couldn’t.

“Your father’s men don’t know how to leave you well enough alone,” Harper agreed, but Robin didn’t miss the doubt that flickered across his face. He set down the yoke and glanced at Robin. “Are you warm enough? The cold comes on quickly out here.”

Robin dropped his hands from his arms. “Perhaps not.” The wind was beginning to creep through the linen of his shirt without the canvas walls of the cart to block it.

“Allow me to fetch your cloak.” Harper strode past before Robin could insist on fetching his cloak himself. It was likely best to let him help, anyhow. If small, unneeded favors were what he needed to prove himself, there was no reason to protest.

Harper returned promptly with Robin’s favorite travel cloak over one arm—a thick red one, almost long enough to drag on the ground, made when Robin was young enough that there was hope he’d grow taller. “I hope you are well, my lord,” he said, fastening the cloak over Robin’s shoulders.

It took Robin a moment to process the question. “I—am. For the most part.”

Harper smiled, honest despite the tired weight to it. “I’m glad. It can be hard to tell, when you draw away from me, when I should start to worry. I hope you will never feel lonely when I am with you.”

And he squeezed Robin’s shoulder and returned to the back of the cart like he hadn’t just stung Robin senseless. He’d made Harper worry for him all this time. Since they first arrived in Halfford, no doubt, and Robin had spent every evening too exhausted by the Duke’s temper to do more than sulk in his guest room and tell Harper to explore the city without him. Harper understood, as Harper always understood, but it was hardly any wonder he’d gotten tense. Robin could be a dense little brat sometimes, he thought bitterly.

A wrenching, tightly muffled sneeze pulled Robin back to himself. He moved around to the back of the cart, where Harper had paused in tying down the rear flap to press his fingers to his temples, exhaustion written plainly on his face. The red cast of his nose was no longer faint, and the poor thing was starting to swell under Harper’s rough treatment.

“Bless you,” Robin said, anxiety creeping foolishly up his neck. Talking to Harper ought to be the easiest thing in the world. Damn this trip, damn Duke Edward, and damn Robin’s own idiocy.

The exhaustion all but vanished from Harper’s expression as he looked up and gave a quick thanks, carrying on with the canvas.

Robin twisted the edge of his cloak between his fingers and dared to ask, “Sir Harper, are you well?”

Harper paused his work for just a moment, too briefly to be noticed by anyone paying the slightest bit less attention than Robin. “I may have caught a chill back in Halfford,” he admitted, his tone carefully flat. “Do not concern yourself, my lord.”

“I shall concern myself if I like,” Robin said before he could think better of it.

Harper pulled a rope taught with a fair bit more force than seemed necessary and barked a laugh. “Of course, my lord.” He sniffed, sharp and wet, and tied off the rope, securing the canvas flap over the open back of the cart. He climbed inside without another word and started shifting things around, laying out their bedrolls and moving fallen luggage aside.

Robin sighed and leaned against the cart, pulling his cloak tight around himself. He’d misstepped already. A cold. What an absurdly unremarkable, temporary affliction to regret. As if anybody could think less of Harper for such a thing. For falling ill, for bowing to the weather. Robin could think of a few sharp words for Harper’s father, though he doubted they would do any good.

He watched the darkening sky as Harper bustled around in the cart. Some clouds were forming to the east—might it rain? The roads would be hell tomorrow if it did. Perhaps they ought to have pushed on to the inn after all.

“Does it look like rain to you?” Robin asked as Harper emerged from the carriage. He’d stripped his cape, tabard, and heavy mail, leaving him in trousers and a tunic with his sword tied around his waist.

Harper glanced up to the east, briefly pressing a gloved knuckle under his nose. “Ah—yes, most likely.” He smiled. “Worry not, my lord. You will stay quite dry in the cart.”

Robin bit his lip. “Yes, but the roads will—I will stay dry?”

“We will.” Harper sniffled and laid a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Worry not. I am hardly infirm. I shall handle the roads tomorrow, whatever condition they may be in.”

“Of course you shall.” Robin sighed, studying Harper’s face, the faint lines of exhaustion his best efforts can’t erase. “I do not doubt your capability, but…it has been a long journey.”

“It has.” Harper squeezed Robin’s shoulder briefly and let go, looking away. Was Robin staring? “Rest in the cart. I will take care of camp and fetch you when there is dinner.”

That isn’t what Robin meant at all, but already Harper was striding away towards the horses. Robin followed him, almost jogging to keep up with his long, quick steps. “No. I will accompany you.”

“No need.” Harper didn’t slow, nor turn to Robin. “You are exhausted. Rest for tomorrow.” There was a clipped insistence to his tone so uncharacteristic that Robin was almost hurt until Harper brought both hands to his face and smothered a sneeze that seemed to tear through him and take a piece with it, leaving him staggered slightly with a few short, harshly constrained coughs.

“Bless you, Sir.” Robin took the opportunity to overtake Harper and reach the horses first. Of course—poor Harper hadn’t had a moment’s privacy since they’d left Halfford. If Robin couldn’t convince him to let his guard down before him, he could at least give him a few moments alone. “I assure you, I am quite capable of watering the horses myself. We shall both to bed sooner if I help.” He took both horses’ leads without waiting for a response and clicked at them to follow.

“…very well, my lord.” If Harper was trying to disguise the relief in his voice, he didn’t manage it very well. He sniffed thickly and dropped his hands from his face. “The river is a short way south of here.” He pointed, but Robin could hear the rushing water already.

Robin nodded. “I shall return soon.”

And he led the horses off. This was absurd. Why should the two of them play these games even when alone? Harper’s father was not here to scold him, nor anybody who might report to him or the King. Why should decorum prevent Robin from speaking frankly with his dearest friend? He ought to order Harper to rest as much as he was able.

The river was further than Robin anticipated, and by the time he returned night had all but fallen, the air damp and bitterly cold, and the rain clouds in the east were unmistakably nearer. At least he was able to spare Harper the trek—the fool would have left without his cloak—but he was relieved nonetheless to see a fire roaring already by the time he returned, a steaming pot hung over it. He secured the horses and joined Harper beside it on a fallen log, noting with pleasure that Harper had remembered himself and donned a cloak.

“Back at last, my lord?” Harper smiled at Robin as he sat down, a touch of mischief in his expression. “I had forgotten how much longer a walk can be on shorter legs.”

Robin shoved his shoulder, gasping in mock offense. “You know perfectly well how quickly I walk.”

“How slowly.” Harper’s grin flashed into a grimace and he turned away from Robin, lifting a fistful of his cloak to his face. His breath wavered perilously for a moment, and he crumpled, smothering a heavy sneeze into the fabric.

“Bless you.” He sounded worse, Robin thought.

Harper coughed roughly before recovering his breath. “Hah. Tha’k you.” An attempt at sniffling audibly caught in stuffed-shut sinuses and Harper cleared his throat, such an unmistakeably unwell sound that Robin wanted to drag him to the cart to sleep and damn his feelings on the matter.

“What do you think of breaking into that mead the Duke refused?” he said instead. “My father won’t expect it back, and it seems a fine night to warm ourselves up.” And perhaps a bit of drink would help ease Harper’s nerves.

“If you’d like.” Harper tipped the pot over the fire towards him with a ladle, his other hand keeping the hem of his cloak pressed under his nose. “Though I hope you don’t need drink to find my company tolerable.”

Robin laughed. “Simply unbearable, being alone with the likes of you. It’s near enough to make me miss Duke Edward’s hospitality.” He stood and brushed dirt from the back of his cloak. “I simply can’t face a sober evening with company who prefers me to a horse’s ass.”

That earned a huff of laughter from Harper. “I’ve been looking at a horse’s ass all day. You’re a far better sight.”

“He doesn’t mean it, Dapple,” Robin called to the horse in question, who flicked an ear in utter disinterest. He patted her side on his way back to the cart.

It was dark inside the cart with the rear flap blocking out the firelight, but it was easy enough to find the mead, bundled up in a spare cloth and tied to the side of the cart to ensure it didn’t bounce around and break. There ought to be some handkerchiefs about, too. Robin recalled seeing a couple at the bottom of his bag, so he took a moment to dig them out.

When he returned to the campfire, Harper had taken the pot off the fire and was doling out stew to travel bowls. Robin offered a handkerchief without a word.

Harper took it with a nod of thanks and swiped quickly under his nose, though by the sound of things that wasn’t nearly enough.

The stew was fine enough, good for being scrounged together from diminishing fresh supplies. Harper called it a last proper meal before returning to dried meat and stale crackers. The mead was better. Robin’s father wasn’t one to spare expenses when it came to obsequious gifts.

“The one gift the Duke’s given us,” Robin said after the two were halfway through the bottle.

Harper snorted. “His generosity shall not go unremembered.” He took a swig from the bottle, then passed it urgently back to Robin. “Pardon—” His breath caught and he twisted away from Robin, though the sneeze seemed to toy with him, keeping his breath hitching uncertainly for several seconds before tearing out of him with a vocal desperation that almost startled Robin.

“Bless you.”

“Ngh.” Belatedly, Harper lifted the handkerchief to his face and blew his nose hard, though, by the sound of it, not to much effect. “Blast this cold.”

He must have been feeling calmer if he was complaining, Robin noted with pleasure. Though whether that was thanks to the mead or to dinner and company, he couldn’t guess. “Poor thing,” he said as lightly as he could manage, rubbing Harper’s shoulder.

Harper huffed, with laughter or irritation. “You needn’t tease me, my lord.”

“I’m not!” With feigned offense, Robin set the bottle on the ground to fold his arms. Harper picked it idly back up. “Can’t a man express his sympathies for a friend?”

“Of course, my lord.” Harper took another swig. “But as I’ve said, you need not worry.”

“Need not worry, need not worry!” However much the mead was touching Harper, Robin was feeling a touch bolder. “Perhaps I want to worry, Har. You aren’t acting like yourself.”

Harper grinned, visibly biting back a laugh. “You’re acting plenty like yourself.” Robin squinted. “Fussy and overprotective.”

Robin scoffed, almost offended. “Overprotective! Says Sir ‘rest in the cart while I do the work of thirty men!’”

“Thirty men!” Harper laughed properly at that until his breath caught in his throat and pulled him double in a coughing fit. “Thirty, Robin, really?” he croaked as soon as his breath allowed.

“My father would send thirty.”

Harper drank again, calming the cough. “Your father really is overprotective.”

Robin could hardly argue with that. He shifted closer and leaned into Harper’s side. “Honestly, what’s the matter?”

“You got me drunk so I’d admit I don’t feel well,” Harper said, vaguely impressed. “Conniving bastard.” But he leaned back into Robin’s touch.

“Answer me, Harper.” Robin let a smidge of princely authority into his tone. “You aren’t usually so…”

He searched for the word, but Harper gave a stuffy, defeated little sigh and sank deeper into Robin’s side. “Your father will have my head when we reach home.”

Robin scoffed. “Like hell.”

“He will.” Harper sniffed and pressed the handkerchief beneath his nose with some force. “You’ve been miserable on this trip—don’t lie to me; you have been—and it is my job t-to—oh, hell—” He leaned away from Robin and crushed a sneeze into his handkerchief, sharp and rough and furious.

“Bless you. I don’t give a damn about your job.” Maybe Robin oughtn’t to have drank. It made it awfully difficult to shut his mouth. “I only care that my friend is ill and you won’t let him rest.”

“I give a damn.” Harper didn’t snap, but the edge to his tone suggested he might have were Robin anybody else. “I haven’t got the luxury of only being your friend.” But he leaned back into Robin’s shoulder nonetheless.

Robin bit down the first words on his tongue, Your father said something to you. Dragging up that old argument could hardly do good. “I’d be happy to see you rest,” he said instead.

“Hah.” Harper swiped beneath his nose. “Less so to see the cart uncovered, dinner unmade, fire unlit…”

“I could have done any of that myself,” Robin insisted.

“And then what use would I be?” Harper’s tone might have sounded playful to someone else, but Robin heard the subtle frailty in the words.

A drop of rain splashed on Robin’s cheek. He put up a hand to feel for more.

“Right.” Harper sat up and pulled Robin’s hood over his head, smiling. As if Robin is the one needed reassuring. “Go stay dry in the cart. I will join you within a half-hour.”

Robin could have argued. A better friend might have. But Harper was rarely so insistent unless he was right, even if Robin couldn’t see it. “I’ll come looking if you’re late,” he said instead.

Harper laughed. “Nonsense, my lord. We don’t need you catching cold, too.” He stood and offered Robin a hand up.

Robin took it. “Then be with me in a half-hour.” The longer he ran his mouth, the longer Harper would be out in the rain, so he nodded goodbye and headed for the cart.

Inside the cart, he lit his fire-light and left it near the entrance, providing paltry light for Robin but, he hoped, a signal for Harper in case the rain put out the campfire. It wasn’t as if he needed to see much to strip off his cloak and boots and crawl under the blankets Harper had laid out.

The rain picked up quickly, and wind along with it. Robin pulled a pillow over his head, trying to block out the roar of the rain hitting canvas and with it the thought of poor Harper caught outside in this misery.

He had no way to tell the time, but he trusted despite his threat that it really had been less than a half-hour when Harper returned. He heard splashing, heavy footsteps drawing closer, then a creak of the cart as Harper started to step up. A pause, then a wet, wrenching sneeze, half drowned out by the rain hitting canvas but for once not muffled. And then another, ripe with exhausted frustration. Harper cursed, gave his nose a quick, rough blow, and climbed into the cart.

“Bless you.” Robin took the pillow off his head and rolled onto his back. “It sounds miserable out there.” As close to you sound miserable as Harper was likely to accept.

“Hah. S’pose so.” Harper turned out the fire-light and tossed it back to Robin, who fumbled it in the unexpected dark. “Were you frightened without me?”

Robin grumbled. “Oh, terribly. I’m a grown man; I’m not afraid of the rain any longer.”

Harper laughed, still shuffling around the cart to get out of his boots and cloak. “And here I thought you needed me.”

Robin lifted up the blankets to his right—prematurely, he realized when the unexpectedly cold air made him shiver. “All right, then. Get under here and protect me from the wind, Sir Necessary.”

To Robin’s relief, that drew more laughter from Harper, until it broke into a couple coughs. “Of course, my lord,” he said, a bit raspy, and slid under the blankets beside Robin.

He was keeping weight off his right arm, Robin noticed. So his shoulder was acting up. Robin waited for him to settle, then moved himself onto Harper’s good shoulder, pinning him down, and tucked the blanket gently over the other before Harper could protest.

Harper laughed softly and looped his arm around Robin’s waist. “You’re fretting.”

“Will you deny me that?”

“I will deny you nothing, my lord,” Harper said with that note of amusement that always left Robin torn between affection and indignation.

He settled on responding with a haughty sniff and pulling the pillow under Harper’s head. “Then tell me what you would have of me.”

Harper’s answer was as quick as predictable. “Nothing, my lord.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Robin settled his head on Harper’s chest and hooked a leg over Harper’s, drawing him close to share their warmth. Harper’s clothes were damp, and he shivered slightly beneath them. All the more reason to cling to him. “I know you hate to be alone when you’re unwell, but you’re hearing anything more than ‘bless you’ as a slight against your honor. Tell me how to care for you.”

Harper sniffed. “It is not your responsibility to—”

“Why did we come out here alone just to act like your father is listening?” Robin bit his tongue, regretting the words as soon as they passed his lips.

He might not have heard Harper’s breath catch without his ear pressed to his chest, but the sound made him want to shrivel up where he lay. “Oh, hell, Har, I—”

Harper twisted his head away from Robin into a vicious, half-stifled sneeze.

Oh. “Bless you. I’m sorry.”

Harper sniffed hard and brought up his right hand to scrub beneath his nose. “Tha’k you.” He sucked his teeth, absently rubbing a thumb on Robin’s back. When he spoke, it was hardly more than a hoarse whisper, as if asking quietly were less offensive: “Will you ride beside me tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Robin could feel the tension leave Harper. “I ought to have done so from the beginning.”

“You needed space.”

“And you needed company.” Robin shifted, pulling Harper in tighter. He’d stopped shivering. “I wish you’d asked for it sooner.” Harper started to speak, but Robin added, “I know you think you can’t, but I wish you would.”

Harper chuckled softly. “Truly, Robin, you worry too much.”

“Only as you refuse to take proper care of yourself,” Robin protested. “Get some sleep, now.”

“At your pleasure, my lord,” Harper teased, but he relaxed beneath Robin and, soon enough, drifted off to sleep.

#bloop #blep #snz ocs #this is attempt FOUR at this fucking fic because they kept developing in my brain so that the beginning of the fic was ooc #by the time I got to the end #they were SUPPOSED to be one-off characters just for this fic. but now they won’t leave my brain and unfortunately I’m obsessed with them

[coolstarfishbarbarian]

I try to color it

It's so wonderful to imagine that he is so wet and cold in the wind now 🤤(the picture may be tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. My iPad has broken down in the past two days, and I just bought a new one yesterday)

#my oc art #oc art #snz ocs #snz kink #snz art

[vllergy]

relations & afflictions

random allergy fic, 2.3k, old ocs of mine jin-young is a cop (he has the kink because of who i am as a person) vesen is a big tall hot alien assassin aliens and humans are working together but it's still pretty new and things are awkward jin and vesen 100% fall in love with each other eventually that's basically all you need to know

Something’s been bothering Vesen’s nose ever since they left the warehouse. His insistence on delaying the inevitable is only driving both the offending appendage, and Jin by extension, insane. 

There’s a lot Jin has yet to figure out about his alien partner. Human and Kheelen relations are touch and go as it is, and the fact that they’ve paired officers up like this for police work is a shoddy effort at best to keep the peace. There’s just still too much they don’t understand about one another for anything to go smoothly. Case in point—until today, Jin didn’t even know if the Kheelen could sneeze.

It’s not that they look all that different. Bipedal, humanoid, all the same parts and facial features—Kheelen just do everything more elegant and longer it seems like. Even now Vesen has to hunch over slightly to fit all the willowy six foot eight of himself inside Jin’s squad car, and he’s one of the shorter ones of his species. Vesen’s face is similarly angular and lean, almost feline, with deep black eyes and a nose that angles regally off the front of his profile. Jin has always thought the Kheelen look how high fashion used to think supermodels ought to look—distinctly alien, a little off putting, but still undeniably beautiful. 

It helps that their skin comes in almost every shade of the rainbow. Vesen’s is a soft lilac, though you wouldn’t catch Jin admitting it. Nor should he even be thinking about how Vesen’s slightly-leaner-than-human nostrils are a little darker purple at the moment as they wriggle and flex with what looks like blatant irritation.

Thankfully, Vesen’s attitude keeps most amorous thoughts of Jin’s to a minimum. The guy’s taciturn, stoic, and doesn’t really give a shit about anyone but himself. He’s got a superiority complex too, but no one at the precinct seems to care. Everyone’s dealing with their own Kheelen partners and the messy diplomatic shitstorms they tend to kick up. It’s just unlucky Jin got the biggest fucking prick of the bunch. 

He’s good at what he does though. They call him the Wraith. Jin has never seen anyone move like Vesen does, not even other Kheelen. At the very least, he’s not going to die with him as a partner.

At least, not from phaser fire. He may die from another problem entirely if the guy doesn’t stop sniffling like a leaky faucet next to him for the rest of this ride.

Jin squirms in his seat slightly and tries not to glance at Vesen out of the corner of his eye. Lean, purple forearms are braced against raised knees as the alien sits slightly crunched in the front seat. The seat is pulled all the way back but his legs are so damn long it’s impossible to make him comfortable. Jin thinks about getting the chief to requisition them some new vehicles. This is hardly fair.

Vesen’s dark silk hair is shaved down the sides of his skull and then braided across the top of his head and hung down his back, the braid extending all the way to the bottom of his spine. Self-consciously, Jin runs a hand through his own dark hair. Regulation cut. No frills. Pretty underwhelming all things considered.

His fingers come away dusty when he sets his hand back on the wheel. He frowns at his fingertips, rubbing them together slightly. The warehouse they raided today looked like it had been abandoned for decades. Maybe longer. He’s going to need a full decontamination shower after this—

“h-nNDT!”

His stomach drops. But coolly, he slides his eyes over to his passenger and finds Vesen as relaxed as ever. He’d stifled with barely a sound or movement at all. Only a slight irritated blink gives him away as he recovers

Jin could ignore it, and probably should. But the words are off his lips before he has a chance to stop them.

“I didn’t even know you could sneeze.”

He can feel the simmering fury radiating from the seat beside him as Vesen turns his head. Dark eyes bore into the side of his skull. Jin knows that look without even having to see it—imperious, infuriated.

Then, flatly in the dark baritone he’s come to loathe, Vesen responds, “Why would we not?”

Jin shrugs, “I dunno. Your biology is different from ours in a ton of different ways, I thought maybe you guys just didn’t.”

Vesen sniffs softly. The sound lashes a current of electricity up Jin’s spine.

“That is preposterous.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jin concedes, “You have noses and you breathe air, so it stands to reason.”

“You—hh?” Vesen pauses, gasps and turns his head away, pressing his knuckle to his septum and flinching into another soundless stifle. He recovers with a dry sniffle and swears in his own language. Jin hasn’t picked up the translation just yet, but he understands the intent just fine.

“Bless you,” he says, and feels a certain thrill at saying it. Especially to Vesen, who by all accounts probably is taking this all as a knock to his pride.

As if on cue, the alien gives him a reproachful look. “What?” he snaps.

Jin waves a hand, “It’s a human saying…well, in some regions. When someone sneezes.” 

“Foolish.”

“What do the Kheelen say when someone sneezes?”

“Why are you so interested, Jin-young?”

Jin’s cheeks flush slightly. The question is an honest one, but it’s said with just the right amount of judgment that it feels like it’s getting too close to the truth. He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders.

“Just making conversation. We’re supposed to be learning about each other, right?”

There’s a long pause. The inside of the car is tense. Finally, Vesen sniffs lightly and sighs.

“We do not say anything. It is not a…common occurrence.”

He says this with a bit of embarrassment, which piques Jin’s interest tenfold. No wonder he hadn’t been sure if the Kheelen even possessed this biological function—he’s worked with enough of them for long enough now he was bound to have seen it happen at least once. But it’s never come up before. Not until this at least.

 Trying to keep the angle of the conversation on scholarly curiosity rather than selfish, Jin tilts his head.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Vesen doesn’t answer for a moment, and when Jin looks over he sees why. The alien is caught with his eyes half-lidded, mouth parted slightly, a shuddering breath quaking under his vest. He shakes his head and suddenly bows it, steepling his hands over his nose and mouth. A very human pose, Jin thinks, despite only having four fingers on each hand.

“hH’DDIISSShhyue!” 

Vesen rises from his hands instantly and doesn’t give Jin time to bless him, or even react, “We are a very hardy species. Unlike humans, it takes a great deal to afflict our sensibilities.”

Just to be a dick, Jin blesses him anyway. Vesen cuts him a watery glare before Jin continues, struggling to keep his eyes on the road, “But…something is clearly uh…afflicting you now, right?”

Vesen sniffs pointedly, “It appears so.”

Jin’s boiling alive under his uniform all of a sudden. He knows he should stop fanning the fire but his mouth is moving faster than his brain, and he can’t help but keep asking questions. The slightly stuffy quality to Vesen’s deep voice as this progresses isn’t helping things either. He white-knuckles the steering wheel.

“I wonder what it is,” he hums, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No.” Flat, unmoved, typical Vesen. Jin almost rolls his eyes.

“Then, are you sick?”

“I am not ill.”

“Then I’m at a loss, bud."

“It is not your concern, Jin-young,” Vesen assures him, but in that slightly dismissive way that seems to suggest it never was to begin with. 

That might have been it, and for a few moments Jin thinks it’s over. But after a lengthy pause, he hears Vesen take a clipped breath beside him. Then, he lowers his face slowly into his hands once more and Jin tenses, waiting for the inevitable. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the alien’s massive shoulders rising with a swell of breath before—

“hhH-rrSCHH!” Stronger and harsher than the one that came before it. Vesen lifts his head, thinking he’s finished, but is taken by two itchy sounding ones almost immediately after. He doesn’t bother lowering his head again and merely sneezes freely, misting his own palms as he shudders into them. “Chhssyu! ccHSH!”

“Okay, see, it is kind of my concern,” Jin reasons, and leans over to reach past Vesen’s knees for the glove box, “Because you’re my partner and now I’m officially worried.”

Vesen isn’t listening. He’s lost in the throes of whatever it has meant to finally give into this tickle that’s been plaguing him since they left the warehouse. His hands still cupped in front of him, his upper lip curls back slightly as he gears up for another. Jin unlocks the glove box, the back of his hand drifting against Vesen’s knee for a moment.

“Sorry,” he says, his heart pounding.

Vesen responds in kind with a stuttered gasp and another powerful sneeze. 

 “hH? hhH! ehH’HDJSshoo!” 

He wrenches to the side at the last second to try and direct it against the window but Jin still feels the spray of it against his forearm and nearly loses control of the fucking car. He manages to somehow keep them alive and also force a wad of napkins into Vesen’s hands. 

“Here, Vesen.”

 Vesen gathers the crumpled paper and presses it to his dripping nose. He blows hard—Jin didn’t know they did that either—which seems to help just for a moment.

“I’m gonna get you back to headquarters, okay?” Jin says, trying not to let his voice shake. He’s almost certain Vesen can hear his heart pounding but he’s hoping he’s a little too distracted by the itch to notice.

Vesen nods blearily and gets one liquid sniffle in before something sets him off again. He holds the sodden napkins just slightly away from him and sneezes against them in short bursts. “aeh’ESSCH! chSSCH! t’SHH!”

“Jesus, you gonna make it?” Jin asks. Am I?

“Focus on your driving, Jin-young,” Vesen says evenly and dabs at his nose, “There is no need for alarm.”

Ah, good. So Vesen can hear his heartbeat, but he thinks it’s anxiety, not anything else. Good. Jin can roll with that, at least. Interspecies relations are hard enough without adding weird kinks to the mix. 

“Are you sure? Because—“

“hH’RRSsch!”

“You sound like—“

“hHuh’IISH! ISHH! hh-Hh?…”Vesen pauses on the last one, hanging in limbo with his gaze flickering on the horizon. Jin waits for him, watching his throat bob as the urge takes him.

“hhH’yyIISSHAh!”

Vesen cups that one into his palm, though it does nothing to lessen the volume.

Jin swallows, “Wow. Because you sound like you’re getting worse.”

“A passing ihhritation,” Vesen says, somehow managing to sound cold while his voice wavers. 

In other words: drop it. 

But Jin can already see his face twitching around the need to sneeze again. It’s five more minutes back to the station and god, if he can even get out of his squad car to walk in it’ll be a fucking miracle. Either way, he’s in trouble. They’re supposed to watch out for their Kheelen counterparts in the field. Have each other’s backs. Bringing one back sneezing his goddamn head off seems like the opposite of that. 

“Should we open a window?” Jin asks.

Vesen nods through his next sneeze and fumbles for the controls on the side panel as he snaps forward.

“aeh’eESSCHUu!” 

Jin gets the controls going on his own side for him and both windows peel open. City air streams through the car. It’s not exactly pleasant, but it’s not terrible either. Jin grew up here so it’s part and parcel of his being. He can’t imaging what it must be like for the Kheelen. Breathing sweet, fresh air every day of their own planet to now…this. Maybe that’s why Vesen in particular is so sensitive. Or maybe he’s overthinking it.

A tired, weak sneeze is directed out towards the open air and into Vesen’s curled fist as the alien leans to the window. “hh’iIShoo!” 

“Bless. Any better?” Jin asks.

“It smells of smog and metal,” Vesen complains and slides his finger under his nose, wicking moisture away petulantly.

“Everyone’s a critic.”

They ride the rest of the way in relative quiet, Vesen with his head out the window like a dog and Jin lowering his body temperature to acceptable levels. By the time they get to the precinct he’s actually able to stand up and get out of the squad car and can feel everything below the waist. 

Just in time for Vesen to come around the side of the car and pin him by the shoulder. Jin has to look up at him because he’s so tall, and his hand feels like a vice against him. Vesen could snap him like a twig if he wanted. Something he’s fond of reminding him.

“Tell anyone of what transpired here, Jin-young, and you will not live long enough to regret it,” Vesen hisses at him, pointed teeth flashing. 

It would be intimidating were it not for the inadvertent sniffle that follows as Vesen backs off. His eyes grow slightly hazy even as they try to bore into Jin’s and his hand loosens on his shoulder.

“Aw, c’mon big guy, one more?” Jin asks, eyes flashing.

Fury sparks in Vesen’s face before the need overtakes him entirely. His expression crumples as he releases Jin to cover his nose and mouth with his hand and flinches into it.

“h’NNDXT!”

A full body shudder runs the length of Jin’s body. He can feel his lower belly melting again. 

He smiles, “Bless you.” 

Vesen growls and shoves at Jin with his opposite hand as he sniffles in recovery. He bares his teeth at him. 

“Be quiet,” he says before turning away and heading toward the precinct steps.

“I think we bonded today!” Jin calls after him, “We’re making progress! Pioneers of human and Kheelen relations, you and me!” 

#i was trying to link this to the ask and realized i couldn't find it anymore??? #idk if i archived it or what and don't remember but its seemingly #vanished so #reposting for prosperity #snz kink #snzfic #my ocs #vesjin #if anyone finds the OG let me know im so confused lmao #ANYWAY THANK U FOR THE BEAUTIFUL ASK IM GOING TO BE RIDING THIS HIGH ALL DAY!!!!!

[dampsleeves]

INDUCING 💥💥💥‼️‼️🦅🦅💥🐺

#snzblr #snz #snz kink #sneezeblr #sneeze kink #snz fet #snzfucker #snz art #snz blog #sneezefucker #sneezing kink #sneeze art #spiiderart #oc eden & oc forrest #ocs eden and forrest my beloved <3 #messy sneeze #snez #snez kink #snezblr #snzkink #snz ocs

[heyitsmemel]

I'm just... losing my mind over the thought of someone coming from a wealthy or refined background who has had perfect etiquette and decorum drilled into them that they can't drop it even if they tried. Someone who looks and acts so incredibly proper and put together, the type of person who always says sorry or excuse me after coughing or sneezing.... coming undone with a terrible cold or flu. They feel so horribly sick they don't even have the energy to excuse themselves. Their LACK of their otherwise perfect manners is a sign to their friends or partner that something is seriously wrong with them and that they are down BAD.

#snzblr #snzfucker #snz blog #illness kink #snz thoughts #snzario #this is literally my OC in a nutshell #i love torturing this type of character #like being so ill that you lose your otherwise perfectly intact manners #really does something to me #like oh? you feel so bad you can't even excuse yourself? Pathetic.

[aller-geez]

Was playing around a little with Perry’s snz (yeah I know, I already have an elemental OC that snzs flames, why did I need electricity too? I have a problem, okay 🤡)

Perry go brrrrr 🤪⛈️⚡️

Unless he’s sick, Perry only gets ONE single sneeze a day, no more and no less.

After he sneezes, the air around him is so charged with electricity that it can be seen and heard, snapping quietly as clothing begins to stick together. People’s hair would even begin to float from the static charge, if you are close enough to him afterward. Touching him afterwards always results in a small discharge shock like rubbing your socks on the floor and touching someone else.

If he can manage to catch a cold, he’s prone to drawn out, vocal fits that on occasion, have blown fuses, fried circuitry, and even wiped the memory on gaming consoles, computers, phones, etc.

If directly next to him and he happens to sneeze openly instead of covering, the volts he expels from his mouth and nose are close to what you would expect from an electric fly swatter. 😏🌩️

#geezieart #perry ryuu #I SWEAR I DONT OVERTHINK MY ELEMENTAL BABIES I JUST NEED THINGS TO KIND OF MAKE SENSE LOGISTICALLY BC IM A 🤡🤡🤡 #snz ocs #snzblr #snz #snezblr #snzfucker #snz kink #sneeze kink #snz things #snz art #sneezefucker #snez #sneezeblr #sneeze art #sneeze #snzkink #sneezing #snz blog #sneeze oc #snz oc #snez art #snez kink #snzzzzz #cold sneezes #allergy sneezes #snz fet #sneeze thoughts #sneeze blog

[glitterrosesnzz]

everyone hush. oc mini fic time.

-

“You’re totally allergic.” 

Lux stiffened, his fingers twitching slightly from their position of casually holding his scythe over his shoulder. Slowly, he turned around to face Leif, who had stopped in the middle of the path to cross their arms and stare at him smugly. Lux quickly looked away. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He muttered, starting to move again- only to stop as Leif grabbed hold of the back of his scythe, stopping him in his tracks. Lux tried to growl at him, eyes briefly glowing in warning, but Leif was unphased. 

“C’mon, you know exactly what I’m talking about!!” They said, “You sure did look panicked when that kind young lady tried to give you a bouquet.” 

Lux sighed. 

“I just didn’t think she should’ve wasted her money buying it, is all. There was no need for her to- to… where did you get that?” 

Leif smirked, holding a bouquet in their arms as they watched Lux take a step back away from them. 

“Well, since you so impolitely refused it, I figured someone ought to take the poor young lady’s flowers. I put them in my magic pocket for safe keeping.” They took a step forward to match Lux’s step back- continuing to slowly walk towards him until Lux was almost backed up against the partially broken down remains of an old wall. “C’mon- just admit you’re allergic and I’ll put the bouquet away.” 

“I’m- I’m not.” Lux’s hands twitched, and he stubbornly moved them down to rest at his sides, his scythe brushing against the ground. 

“Oh really?” Leif said, leaning a little closer to look over Lux’s shoulder as he leaned back- “Cause I for one think your little shadow over here is telling a very different story.” 

Umbra wasted no time in emerging from the wall, and Lux somehow managed to get even more stiff. 

“C-cahh… c’mon, st-stahh…stop teasing hH-” Umbra’s breath hitched audibly, head tilting back… only for nothing to happen. After a brief moment, he reached over and attempted to punch Lux in the arm, his hand only passing through him. “For fuck’s sake- just let yourself- and me- sneeze already!” 

Lux shook his head in the negative, covering his nose with his hand as Umbra’s breath hitched again. Lief looked between the two of them curiously. 

“So you can only sneeze if he does?” They asked, tilting their head slightly while watching Umbra rub at his nose. “I thought that, even as his shadow, you were slightly more separate than that.” 

“It g-goes both- heH… both ways.” Umbra sniffled, “He’ll- he’ll sneeze if I- ihH-... I do, mine just- mine just- hIH-hH…tehH-... tend to get… st-stuck.” 

Leif hummed in contemplation. Then, after a few more seconds of watching Umbra hitch desperately, seemingly getting nowhere closer to release, with Lux covering his nose and looking away, they stepped forwards, pulling a single flower out of the bouquet. With no pre-amble, they reached out. 

As expected, the flower could not actually make contact with Umbra, instead lightly passing through him. Still though, placing the flower in a position near his nose seemed to have some sort of effect, as his hitching pitched up slightly. 

“Hh-hiIHH-” 

“Hh-heH-” 

Lux let out an audible hitch- his scythe dropping to the ground as he used both his hands to cover his mouth and nose, a flustered blush spreading across his face to his ears. A similar blush appeared on Umbra soon after- and his hands hesitated between hovering in front of his face and moving to cover his ears. Teary eyed, Umbra somehow managed to glare at Lux through hitching breaths. 

“St-hH- stop- stop being emba-hiH-hH-... em-embarrassed- hEH- …about it- hH… you’re- you’re making me blu-hiHH-hAH-” He was cut off from saying more, as Leif gave the flower the slightest bit of a twirl- it somehow seemingly mimicking what it would be like if the flower was actually in his nose. “HiiIh-hH-!” 

“HahH-N’xtsh!!” Lux was the one who broke first, doubling over in a barely stifled sneeze. Umbra was quick to follow. 

“Hh-hH’EiSCHiu!!” He didn’t bother with stifling at all, seemingly only just barely remembering to cover his mouth with his hands- not that Leif figures it would’ve mattered, him being a shadow and all. Leif removed the flower almost immediately, both it and the accompanying bouquet vanishing back into their magic pocket, figuring their job was done as both Umbra and Lux’s breath hitched again. 

“HhhH-N’XTchu!!” 

“H’aHSHiu!! Fuck!” Umbra sniffled, rubbing at his nose as his breath continued to hitch. “L-hH- Lux, we-we’re gonna-hH…be at this all day if you- it you- hIH-h’EiTsHiu!!” 

Lux shook his head, somewhat desperately- and seemingly forced his hands away from his mouth. 

“HihH-” 

“HehH-” 

“Hh-ISHtchu!! Hah-hH’ESCHu!! H’eSTCHiu!!!” 

“Hah-H’ESHhi!! Hh-h’ISHiu!! Hh’ISHtchiu!! Fucking finally!” Umbra wiped at his nose, readjusting his position as Lux bent down to pick up his scythe, wiping his nose more discreetly as he did so. “Was that so fucking hard?” 

Lux did not respond, avoiding eye contact with the both of them as he pulled his hood over his head. Umbra’s hands went up to cover his now bright red ears. 

“Jeez.” He muttered, turning to Leif. “I’m the dude’s shadow, and even I don’t get why he’s so embarrassed about being allergic to roses.”

#snz #snz fic #my writing #ocs

[hachiibun]

Have Gen helping his date Zion out as a treat in between me working on comms and projects~! Zion is @sailormoon-snz's guy 😌

If you like my drawings, and are willing and able to do so, please consider sending a little something my way through ko-fi ☕! You're not obliged to donate, but every bit helps to keep me living decently and I really do appreciate it!

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

#snz #snz kink #hachiisnzart #hachiibunocs #snz oc gen #ppls ocs #moon oc zion #hachiibunart #there's more snz stuff i'm working on dw #plus my comms #i'm enjoying the stuff i'm working on tho!! #but this was just a treat bc these guys have been occupying our brains so much #gen indulges him lots too dw he's got a lot of sneezes in him just for zion #it's weird seeing gen in light clothing i draw him covered up a lot haha #but it shows how petite he rlly looks #gen in the flower shirt when he's allergic and suggestible lol

[pollinatedbosom]

*contagion/mess

character A in the kitchen making breakfast for her girlfriend, B who has been overworking herself all week. while B has been overworking herself it has actually been A slowly coming down with a nasty snotty wet mess of a cold that coincides so well with A's allergies that she hasn't given it thought.

A is in the kitchen with a persistently streaming and itchy nose. turning away from the stove or the cutting board with itchy irritated sneeze after sneeze. openly into the air. nose getting more incessantly and unmanageably runny.

A can't help resorting to running the back of her hand or arm against her twitchy irritated nose, trying to alleviate her sinuses while helping make a mess of herself.

A who may be saving breakfast from their contagious streaming cold but is absolutely not saving B from it in the long run. leaving just about every surface teaming with wet snotty contagion.

B walking into the kitchen amused to find their partner in the throws of what they assume is one of their signature allergy fits. she smiles, wrapping her arms around A from behind, "what's got you sneezing everywhere."

A is on the presuppose of another fit. desperate hitched breaths causing her chest to rise and fall erratic. repeated soaked half sniffles attempting to combat the mess begging to stream from her nose.

B having an "oh" moment when the fit of harsh wet sneezes are finally wrenched free from A's nose. "let's get you some tea and maybe some medicine." B soothes, kissing A's shoulder. "bless you." she adds softly.

#sapphic snz #snzario #snz kink #snzblr #the spirit of my oc #contagion

[thekinkyleopard]

The Midnight Snack

An Alistar x Kanai non-canon Snz Fic

A Threequel to:

“The Gathering” & “The Happy Ending”

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Snz Fet, Fluff, Persuasion, Contagion, Smut

Author’s Notes: Idk how I let you guys so easily talk me into new fics when my requests are closed and I have so many other things I need to write but…UNCLE FUCKING CHRIST I LOVE YOU INSATIABLE GREMLINS OF SNZ. Here we are with a third part??? Already? So quickly? Who am I??? A brand new bitch. Anyway. A third to a fic I only thought I’d write one and be done with? Wild. THIS IS A THREEQUEL TO “The Gathering” & “The Happy Ending” in order to understand context, go to my blog and read those first! Id link them, but I’m lazy. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Here we go! Nai’s turn 🥳 @aller-geez Owns Draeko and Kanai, and did the art!

Description: Al wakes up in the middle of the night, still sicker than ever. He finds a way to snag his best friend’s attention…and talk him into a little late night, snack.

It was just past midnight, Draeko was fast asleep, conked, splayed out on his back. Mouth wide open, but still just as cute as he always was. He was actually taking up too much room, however, and he wound up pushing the demon he was bed-sharing with, off it. Alistar fell to the floor with a loud thud, groaning lowly as the fond fog of sleep escaped him. Suddenly extremely aware, and reminded by how sick he was still. His body was wet, slick with sweat and his sinuses were full. Weak and shaky. He couldn’t breathe out his nose, and his eyes felt heavier than usual when he was awakened. Exhaustion never felt so exhausting.

Alistar slowly came to a stand, swaying back and forth in his boxer briefs, the dizziness taking him in a chokehold. “Water….” He muttered dryly looking around the room only to find empty water bottles and nothing worth quenching his thirst. He would have to go to the kitchen. The redhead stumbled slowly through the apartment, and into the dining room where he was met with an ever wide awake Kanai. Glued to his screen. “You’re still up?” He asked with a slow blink of his squinting black eyes, trying to adjust to the brightened beams of the overhead lighting.

The Navy haired demon looked up, and made eye contact with his pathetic looking best friend. “I am…I’m surprised you aren’t sleeping off your ailments,” cocking his head to a slight angle as he looked over the red head with curiosity.

“Yeah…the pet quite literally scooted me out the bed…came to get some water…” he yawned over once that followed with a sharp, abrasive cough. The hound winced at the scene.

“Do that, your throat sounds very dry, Donnie,” the hellion spoke certainly before his gaze went back into his research. Alistar went to open his mouth, but closed it again with a loud snarf.

“Hm,” he responded, if one could say that. Alistar then made his way into the kitchen, and pulled the fridge open in one motion. It took him a second to register through the different items before he spotted a fresh bottle of water. The one thing that was inconvenient was having to hydrate the vessel. Drinking water wasn’t customary in hell.

In fact, it had been such a problem, Al ended up in critical condition several times from dehydration. Kanai had to set alarms to remind the demon to drink water. By now, it was starting to become more routine to actually hydrate but, it felt like such a stupid task to perform. The redhead snagged the bottle of liquid and shut the fridge door. He quickly snapped the lid off and pressed the bottle to his chapped pierced lips. Chugging half the bottle as much as he was capable without being able to breathe in the process. He pulled the bottle from his mouth and gasped loudly as he swallowed. “Fuck…” he heaved for a few moments, catching his breath.

Lazily, he screwed the cap back on and carried it out with him back to the dining room. Kanai did not look up this time though he could feel the presence of the other now, his duo colored, blacked eyes scanned the illuminated words before him. Al leaned against the doorway, watching the hound carefully. His head thudded painfully, his skull feeling far too big for the flesh on his head. He squinted, trying to will the pounding away. “Nai?”

“Yes, Donnie?” The hound responded, still not looking up from his current project at hand.

“Will you rub my head?” Bringing the butt end of his palm to his left hand temple, he ground into it, hoping to relieve the pressure. It just wasn’t the same when it was from one’s own inflicting. Now the navy haired male looked up and cocked a brow, eyes scanning over the sore features of his friend’s face. He shrugged his shoulders and slid back in his chair, patting the space between his legs. Without missing a beat, Alistar quickly made hast and made his way over to make himself comfortable between the hound’s open legs. He was wearing a long black band tee with loose grey sweatpants, a lazy fit that he either never changed from the night before, or specifically put on to lounge and research in. Either way, Al found it endearing.

The red head settling in, his shoulders squeezed by each one of Nai’s slender knees. The pressure was comforting. In a few short seconds, and after a few clicks, a video began to play. While it did, the hellion brought both his grey hands to the mess of Al’s loose red hair. Normally in a ponytail, but down and free for the night. His fingers tangled within the damp threads to reach the sides of Alistar’s head, he pressed his prints down, rubbing small individual circles with his digits. The demon groaned with pleasure allowing his neck to loosen and fall back into the sensation.

As the video played, discussing the deeper theoretics to physical and psychological bonding between humans, the hound watched closely as his fingers dug into his friend’s skull. Moving in short calculated circles on each side of the anti-Christ’s temples. “S’good Donnie?” Asking distractedly while his eyes watched the screen closely.

“Mhmmm….” The redhead melted into a puddle but the more he began to relax, the stronger that familiar, delightful tickle presented itself inside his frontal sinuses. “hE..hH…” he struggled and stuttered.

“Just let it out, Al,” The hound told him lazily, his hands still roughly mulling and pushing into the demon’s skull.

“HehH’eEZSCHhh’iiEW…..” Alistar sneezed into the palm of his open hands, a cloud of mistral spit coating the surface of his blackened skin. “Ooff…”

“That was a big one,” Kanai ruffled his palm through the demon’s red hair now. He looked down, and Al looked up, their eyes met and the anti-Christ smirked, lifting his brows suggestively.

“Want to try it?” The redhead braved the question, not sure he could canoodle his way through Kanai’s current train of all night deep dives…but he was going to fucking try.

“What?” The hound asked curiously tilting his head as he continued to gaze down lifelessly at his best friend.

“Sneezing and fucking,” Alistar responded back with an air of causality that continued to draw the other in. Playing on the hound’s innate need for exploration.

“Why?” Furrowing his brows with slight confusion now. What was the purpose?

“It feels REALLY good,” The demon continued through his powers of persuasion, his lips pulling up into a half smirk before licking them once.

“But I’m not sneezing,” Kanai now frowned, realizing the flaw to this plan already.

“Not YET…” Al held up a finger, drawing attention back onto the metaphorical drawing board.

“It would take a while…” the grey skinned man responded flatly but only because he was teetering the edge of thought, contemplating his desire to experience more feelings.

“Well listen, we could both benefit from this research,” Alistar continued, he was going to go down without a fight and he could already seen the hound weighing thinner the longer they kept on the topic.

“Okay, so it’s research?” Kanai raised a thin brow in his response, voice still flat with a slight hitch of interest.

“Yes,” The redhead grinned, a hint of mischief gleamed behind his black holes. Now he had Kanai right where he wanted him.

“Okay,” Now he was listening attentively, his fingers unconsciously continued to rub and dig at the other’s tense skull. It seemed to starve off the burning sensations that cause the anti-Christ to explode.

“I want to know what it feels like to be the one getting fucked while sneezing…you know, what’s that like? The FEELING..” Alistar emphasizes on the right words to keep his friend’s attention, and consideration.

“Okay…?” In a certain light, Alistar could see Kanai slipping away, but still holding on for dear life as he was always desperate to understand the redhead.

“Yes, and in order for you to also experience that feeling, you’d need to get sick,” Al continued his explanation, knowing somewhere through, he would get him fully back again.

“Right,” Kanai responded with a confident nod. Like a train on time, he was at the station, Alistar felt excitement bubbling up from within his lower stomach.

“Two BIRDS, Kanai, one stone,” too excited, the redhead threw him a curve ball, hoping his time on earth and influence may have caught up by now.

“What birds? Why a stone?” The Navy haired hellion was lost again. Alistar slapped his hand to his forehead, regretting it instantly as his brain rang around inside his skull like a giant gong.

“No…Uncle Fucking Christ…It’s a human metaphor…two problems solved with one solution…I’m sick now..you fuck me, get sick by tomorrow…follow?” He spelled it out a little more easily for him now. Kanai squinted but then nodded his head quickly in understanding, signaling to Alistar he was back in the game. Just still a little confused about the end plan.

“Following, not entirely sure where it’s leading,” he replied back honestly. Yet, it was still progress Al needed to continue.

“You get sick, I fuck YOU, boom, now you know the feeling, RESEARCH, Complete,” he pointed at Kanai, then himself, then back at Kanai and made an explosion motion with his opening fist.

“Hmm..” He sat on it for a second, he calculated the experience. Though carnal sexual experiments weren’t on his top ventures of research, he certainly wasn’t against them. Humans were incredibly sexual beings. Often he wanted to understand the nuances behind different kinks and concepts. Sexual experiences were half of what being human was about, for those that weren’t asexual that is! Fascinating the world is…he almost trailed out of the room on the topic. He did however, circle back and found himself leaning into his curiosity.

“Eh? Eh??” Alistar chimed in, knowing the distant look in Nai’s gaze meant he was wandering in a mind maze.

“Okay, yes,” Quickly he made his decision, nodding his head to match his verbal consent, and Alistar was in. Oh man, dessert had never been so sweet. The demon was a glutton for sex, compared to the other. He wanted it all the time, every way. There was no wrong way to have sex EXCEPT, without consent. You’d think as a demon it would be the opposite. Nope.

He had felt the indescribable sensations of being tightly wrapped around Drae’s hole while he blew his nose off the surface of his face. Now he would get the opposite feeling, he wanted to be stuffed to the brim, the ultimate feeling of fullness. It had to be phenomenal.

“Amazing…” truthfully, it was. Alistar was beyond excited as his throat burned and prickled with anticipation. Draeko couldn’t top him, even if he mustered the courage, Alistar couldn’t take him seriously enough. Kanai was perfect. They’d already done so a million times, so he knew it would be good. No one else in the group would give him the time of day…quick fix? Kanai. Good fix. Reliable. Loyal. He bit his lower lip, sucking on it once while Kanai searched the red head’s gaze.

“Don’t just stare at me, dude, fuck me,” rolling his eyes impatiently, he may be bottoming but he was still very much going to be doing all the bossing around. The navy haired hellion smirked lifelessly, but with that sparkle Al recognized only from hell.

“Of course, Donnie…” he replied, wrapping his hand around the underside of Alistar’s jaw gripping it to lift him from his spot on the ground. The demon gasped, his throat tightened and it triggered something buried. No longer was it held dormant by the stress relief of a massage. Like a kinked hose now, he lifted Al into his lap and as he was straddled, Kanai forced Al’s face down into a hard, aggressive kiss. Their tongues slid together quickly, rushed, and furious. The two fought ferociously for dominance, neither wishing to give up the feat but Al ground himself needlessly into the hound’s lap bucking lap. Almost throwing Kanai completely off his win.

The hound parted their lips and took a fistful of Alistar’s bright crimson locks, pulling his face back to look at the brightened light on the ceiling above him. “Go on now, Donnie, the floor is yours…” he let out a breathless chuckle. A joke he personally felt like he nailed, but his opportunity to bask in it fell short before the redhead’s body trembled and twitched. His chest collapsed and rose with such quickness, Nai looked between it and the hellion’s jarring maw.

“HEHH’DZSCHh’iEEW!” He blew out fast, and without much time or means to be polite, he sneezed into his friend’s unsuspecting face. Kanai blinked a few times feeling the new arrival of wetness hit him so suddenly in a fine mist, a few dense drops included.

“Wow…yours are very loud compared to Luciftias…” the hound noted outwardly, Alistar blushed as his thighs tightened around Kanai’s haunches.

“Bad thing? SnNdfF….” The redhead asked curiously, looking downward at his friend from the still ‘pulled hair’ position, blackened scleras half lidded.

“No…curious to how it’ll feel when you tighten up around me though,” the navy haired hellion spoke earnestly while trailing his free hand up the back of Al’s spinal chord. He shivered, gritting his teeth and rolling his shadow orbs behind his skull. He ground his hips with hungry force downward into the other’s lap, already feeling Kanai’s length growing hard in his sweats. It felt so prominent from the thin material of his own boxers, but not enough to satisfy. Just a tease.

“Oh, man, it’s gonna…Hh…feel so goHOuhd Hhah’AETSHH!” This time he aimed himself to the side, trying to have some shred of decency as this one sent his body rocking aimlessly against the other. His nose dripped and his mouth was so numb that he couldn’t even feel it. Kanai reached up and thoughtfully, wiped the ick from his face then onto the side of his pants.

“I concur,” his hand now slid up to grip the back of Al’s neck, his grasp was tight, sharp nails dug painfully into the flesh there. From two points of his head he was being forced in the position to stare at the light, that burning, triggering light. What was it about the brightness that just sent one into oblivion?

“Fuck, Nai…” he growled hoarsely, snuffling loudly afterwards. Alistar, in solid calculated motions, rolled his hips in tight circles wanting so badly to feel the slightly shorter man’s thick length, pulsating through him while his sinuses had their way with him. Kanai, on the other hand, as pheromones and hormones started to over take him, let go of the demon, momentarily. Only to pick him up by his thighs, shoving his laptop out the way using Al’s body, he forced him onto the table.

“Oooh some fire in your fucking loins…that’s it Nai, you want this….you want my cold…yo-HiH’AESSH’UE! Heh’TZsch!” Blasting inconveniently over Kanai’s face once more but this time the hellion simply licked the wet substance from his mouth. Unfazed by the assault.

“I want it…” the hound rumbled from deep within his chest as his hands began to claw the other’s boxers from off his body, tossing them across the room. Alistar sneered, sniffling twice, loudly to needlessly try and clear himself enough to breathe through his nose, watching Kanai through glossy, watering black holes. No such luck when he only found his snuffs increased the endless prickle that danced up and down his face and throat.

“Hh..hah..” Kanai crashed their mouths back together in an aggressive motion, swapping those fresh bacterium and swallowing the hellion’s incoming sneeze. So the hound thought. Yet through the roughened kiss, it persisted. His nose trickled between the mess of saliva that swapped between the two. Hands violently gripped at each other’s arms…legs…Kanai stood between the redhead’s thighs. He gripped them, almost for support, or almost, as if he intended to rip them clean off his friend’s body. Alistar groaned animalisticaly as he pulled on Nai’s lower lip. “Hheh’EZSCH!” Again, the onslaught of facial blows never ceased, it was certain within a few hours Kanai would be crawling out of his room with a fever that was inhuman. Al sat back to look upon the mess he made, chuckling with snarky satisfaction. Nai smirked, and brought up a thumb to wipe at the wet on his lip.

“So messy, you are, Alistar,” breaking the silence between the sound of staggered breaths.

“Just making sure I’m thorough, friend,” he winked his leaking blackened eye with a flirtatious smirk. The hound scoffed, and then he looked down at the red head’s exposed, hardened length, and swiftly, spit in his hand. Taking hold of the desperate cock, and slowly twisting his palm around it.

“Very kind..we don’t want to miss a bird…did I get that right?” Kanai’s voice was smooth, like room temperature butter onto crispy toasted bread. Almost like he became more composed as Alistar began to unravel.

“A-ah…yo-..hnn..sure did…” the red headed demon gritted through his clenched teeth now, hips involuntarily bucking against Kanai’s skilled working hand.

“Very good,” the hound whispered with a seductive husk, only causing the anti-Christ to slip further into pleasure as he released his control to him. He loosened under the sheer pleasant motions, his clogged up sinuses only turned harder against him. So they thought…If sneezes were sentient.

“Hah~…Hnn…Hh’HTSSCZH!” He flung a few inches forward by the sheer force of it, biting his lower lip hard he snuffed and snorted. “SNDF!” It felt so unbelievably good, a mini release as the hound tugged on his aching cock.

“Don’t waste them all before I’m even inside, Donnie…you’ll be very displeased,” licking his own lips now, Kanai was watching closely to the pleasant twists and turns of his partner’s pleasured expressions.

“Oh shit…don’t fuckin’ say tha—-HAH..TZSCHH!” Involuntarily another shot out, the more his pleasure increased it seemed the more persistent it became as Nai’s hand twisted, and squeezed around him. The Navy haired demon now slightly concerned his friend would run out of viral steam if he didn’t speed this up. To Al’s dismay, Kanai removed his hand long enough to pull his sweats down for just a few moments, as he untucked his own throbbing erection from behind the material.

“We shouldn’t waste anymore time, should we ?” Kanai taking his friend’s current state as a signal to move forward in the task at hand. Alistar’s experience. The red head was greeted with a sudden sense of clarity as his cock twitched in open air, he reached forward and gripped Kanai tightly by his left hip, bringing him closer. While looking down, he squinted a watering eye and then hocked a fat lump of spit across the tip of the other’s length.

Alistar reached down between them and took the moistened length in his open grip, sliding the saliva to coat it around every corner of the flesh, while Kanai’s head bobbed, struggling to stay upright in this motion. Eventually, the hound snapped his head back up, his gaze falling over Al’s as their eyes locked. He gripped the redhead’s flame cladden wrist and tossed it off his dick, before gripping Al’s thighs tightly. He spread them apart and pulled him closer to the edge of the table to expose his waiting hole.

“That’s right you’re going to fuck that tight ass, aren’t you, Nai?” It was hard to ignore his hormonal desires within, but they were burning like the many fires bursting inside of him. His nose continued to tickle, and he was closer to another. Almost he could taste it, metallic. He moaned low in his aching throat.

“I am…I need to now,” The hell hound grunted, jaw clenching as he pressed himself at Al’s entrance, prodding impatiently. Losing his sense of collectiveness he was nothing more than an animal subject to his natural desires.

“Yeah, Nai? You need to? Prove to me how bad you need it, my friend” Alistar reached up behind Kanai and gripped a handful of Navy blue locks, pulling their sweating foreheads together in a rough motion.

“With pleasure…Donnie..” Nai huffed breathlessly before he pushed himself fully inside, sheathed within the tightened entrance, and stayed soaking there as the redhead let out a hoarse grunt. “Come on Al, give it a go….” Slowly, at the pace of a sloth crossing the street he began to pull his length out and Al, between this pleasurable feeling and allowing the build within him rise, opened his jaw involuntarily.

“Eh’Hih’TSZZCH! HIH’T-CHS’UH!” In perfectly timed rhythm, Kanai pushed himself back in, and slammed full hilt.

“How’s it…A-Al?” He managed through a clenched jaw, his muscles flexing at the strain of such a tight fit.

“F-Fucking Amazi-ng…Nai…Don’t stop, I swea-Hh’hih… I’ll kill yo- H’TDZSCH! you…” like a broken dam, the flood gate came undone, he pushed his hips outward to meet with each powerful thrust, leg clasped around one of the hound’s rocking hips to forcefully increase the pace. “HARDER,” he hissed, to which the other hellion responded accordingly, with a breathless sneer.

“Yes, Sir,” he replied smoothly, if not with a slightly muted groan, his length felt incredible, tightened and squeezed so much more abruptly when the demon was fitting. “You’re so …much..tighter…Al…” he grunted as he continued to throw himself inside from each pull outward. His shaking grey hands gripped with an impeccably strong force against Al’s thighs, his skin there reddening with each passing second. It only added to the challenge as Nai’s grip made it harder for Alistar to meet each thrust, almost edging his impeding release.

“I can-… Huh’AESSH’ue! H’hH’EezSCH! can’t wait to feel you tomorrow…” continuing the thought regardless of the messy particles of spit and sick that spilled between then, hitting every square space of flesh within it’s wake.

“I’m…going to cum, Al,” the hound warned, his grip only getting tighter, his groin twisting as his hips began to thrust with less calculated movements. Alistar brought a hand behind Kanai, pushing him deeper, as if it were possible. Just brushing against his prostrate, Alistar took hold of his leaking, impatient cock and began to stroke to each thrusting motion.

“Just hold on…I’m almost..Al-m…Hh’Hah..” he now peered back up at the ceiling light, needing just a little help getting there…but ol’ reliable never fails as he felt that same, erotic, masterful feeling. Like when your foot falls asleep, that same static electricity that trickled through the nerves, but instead it’s in your face. The redhead stuttered, his body clenched as the onslaught of Kanai’s thrusting length struck his magic chord, and his hand tugged despairingly at his own overstimulated cock. “HH’HEHTZSCH!” A three in one opportunity, Alistar sneezed, and came hard in short strands all over his tired digits.

Kanai now, as well, grunting with force, hips slapping to full hilt before he spilled over inside the insistent demon. They both huffed, and puffed, Alistar sniffled, snorted and snuffed. “Snddddfff,”

“Well…” Kanai almost gasped, pulling his spent cock from the inside of his best friend’s now leaking hole. He leaned against the table, both palms gripping the edge as he caught himself up to sane levels of thought.

“Well….” The crimson haired demon replied with his own breathless expression.

“How was it?” Standing up straight, the hound now tucked his soaked, softening shaft back under the hem of his sweatpants, Al taking this opportunity to hop off the table and take hold of the water bottle he originally brought in.

“Phenomenal, Kanai, you gotta try that,” pausing between catching his breath to account his feelings on the experience.

“We shall see later this day, won’t we?” Responding in his usual dry, monotonous fashion, seemingly having regulated himself enough to speak more coherently.

“We shall…snnddfff..” regardless of the high he was currently riding, Alistar was still unrelieved of having this illness. Though he did feel a thousand times lighter the same way he did with Drae earlier. Ah yes, this was the life. Variety.

“I am not looking forward to that part though…” Kanai referred to the dripping of Al’s nose and wild sniffling to get any real sense of air.

“You get used to it…” the red head shrugged his shoulders simply, he began to work at the lid of his water bottle again, unscrewing it off completely with a twist of his index and thumb.

“Sure…I’m going to go shower now,” Nai much more exhausted now than he had been originally, turned from the chair and began to walk towards the hallway of rooms.

“Hmm..enjoy, I’m gonna chug the rest of this water and, try to sleep…” he yawned but it only all too quickly followed with a loud painful hacking cough. He hit his chest with a closed fist to clear his throat enough that he could take a sip of his water and sooth the onslaught.

“Good luck resting, Donnie,” Kanai yawned waving behind, stretching his shoulders before he turned in the direction of the hall.

“See you tomorrow to complete our research,” Al responded back, running his hand through sweaty locks of red hair.

“See you tomorrow,” And then the hell hound disappeared, retiring to clean himself up in preparation for the day’s later activities.

The End

Author’s Notes: I’ll have you know before I was even halfway done with this piece, Geezie came up with an idea for a FOURTH installment to this series….so yeah. It’s coming if you couldn’t tell behind Al and Nai’s conversation 🫣🫨 First accidental Snz Series when I had my first snz series planned already….but I guess I’ll just have to do both. 🤷🏼‍♀️

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