Note: I feel fluffy. Here's a rare Childe Fluff. ————————————————————
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"It gets a little cold in Snezhnaya"
Sometimes Snezhnaya was cruel to their people.
The merciless storm of thawing ice rivals even the warmest agate. They warm up to the fluffiest of blankets yet it was always not enough. The warmest wool cannot withstand the wintry breeze. Y/n continued to watch the snow fall down from their window, covered up in layers and layers of knitted blankets, mindlessly meddling with a crocheted stuffed toy their lover made not too long ago before he left for Liyue.
He said to them, "If you ever get lonely, just hold on to this. It'll protect you," plastering kisses that pepper around their face, from their forehead, to the tip of their nose, to their temples down to their cheeks, and to the corners of their lips when they place themselves in their petals of rose that were lightly chapped from the cold nipping winds. "I'll buy you lots of things from Liyue," he said, snuggling close to their warmth before his departure.
They snuggled closer to the plush toy, finding that his scent would soon fade with every whiff, the scent of oceans slowly dissipating into the air. 'Love,' they called out voicelessly. 'I miss you.'
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Snezhnaya gets... a little too cold in the winter.
The summery sun on the snowy path is bad enough that they would wear a sweater, but Snezhnaya in the winter was just a cold and desolate hell, that not even the warmest fabric can withstand. They shiver in their layers and layers of blankets and sweaters, finding themselves still cold despite the fireplace before them. The hot beverage they were drinking had long lost its temperature after two or three long sips. They still hold on to the little crocheted toy, a narwhal head made of fluffy yarns. Y/n found themselves snuggling close like it was him in their embrace. But alas, he was in Liyue, miles and miles away from them. It was all letters a plenty, that they thrive on, his warmth staining every single word with a fuzzy feeling, message after message.
To my dearest, Y/n,
Baby, it has been a month since I saw you, and to be frank, I wish you were here enjoying Liyue with me. There's so many flowers here in Liyue. I tried to sing to a glaze lily one time and apparently they only liked traditional Liyuen songs! Three of them turned to whopperflowers, but hey— at least I was able to get some whopperflower nectar. I heard that they're good for the lips so I try fighting one when I have the free time. There's also a store that sells perfumes. If only you were here, I'd be able to pick what scent you like. Anyways, I hope you are handling the winter well. I hope you know that I miss you as much as you miss me. I love you so much, my little snowflake
Yours truly, Ajax
They felt their stomach rage with butterflies, heart beating louder to adhere to their crimsoning face. His warmth indirectly spreads through their body through words that register that warm and fuzzy feeling inside. Sometimes, it surpasses the harsh winter and the snow-full autumn— though no one can tell the seasons of Snezhnaya when everyday was a white empty canvas of snow. Y/n wondered what could Childe look like on Liyue's warm colors of red orange and yellow. They smiled, a picturesque scene on their head. 'Love,' they whisper to the kind flame on their fireplace, smiling at the subtle heat, 'I miss you...'
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Snezhnaya gets... ruthless in the snow.
Snow piles up, painting the world in white, almost hiding away the little things like stone or some plant that enjoyed the spring. That snow reminds them of love on the outside, pure yet as you dig deeper, you find things you never knew and things to discover. If you stay in one spot in the snow, you'll find yourself slowly devoured by it— that in a sense reminded them of love. It swallows you whole, it swallowed them whole. But it wasn't always love that can devour the world. Sometimes the dark of night bites off the stars in the sky, the trees, and sometimes the heart. Black, contrasting the pure white snow, like thoughts of uncertain emotions that brew a tidal wave. Sometimes the snow was ruthless, for it tricked them into thinking and thinking and thinking... of negative things that never gets washed away no matter the snow. Love became an avalanche when doubt interferes.
Y/n's eyes continue to flutter close and back open, thoughts piling up like snow. They couldn't sleep— and they wondered if they should remove three layers from their leg, or maybe two from their other leg; should they tuck in with two layers or cover themselves whole with the entire drawers of blanket they used. The Sadness Collector: they've definitely knew about the story, and read it quite a lot, but sometimes it makes them think: Would Ajax do the same thing Rica's mother did in that story? And it broke them the more thoughts would pile up until it avalanches and their tears fall. Sometimes, Snezhnaya was ruthless in the storm, tricking them into thinking, and thinking, and thinking until there was nothing to think about, but plenty of weirdly painful heartaches stemming from fictional doubt. They cried that night, tightly onto the narwhal plushie he gave them. But they notice the shine of a ring under the moonlight.
"You're one of the best moments of my life," He whispered, kissing their lips like a fleeting memory. "Will you marry me, and stay by my side... til' death do us part?"
And somehow they look back at the gold ring they wore, and it stirred a fluffy feeling in their chest, almost like a teddy bear, or him hugging them close to his chest, not wanting to let go.
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But, Snezhnaya also gets warm in the winter.
Though the frost may creep onto their windows, Y/n continued to burrow themselves in wool and cotton, close to sleeping, through white outside their window. They were exhausted, moving things around to their liking, finding piles and piles of cookbooks in their house in wishes that they find the right warm-hearted recipe. The snow was still harsh— that de-piling seemed almost impossible to do. Their ears were red from the frost, and their face blooming in hues of cherry red in response to the chilly wind. It was almost midnight, and they find themselves unable to open their eyes, even as the door slowly opens.
"Love..." They whispered feeling a familiar warmth. "Welcome home." They smiled as their eyes open and lo and behold,
