Call me Orange or Not! Main is @bitchyybabyy400. One shots, hurt comfort, and ambiguous endings are my game. You can send requests but there is no guarantee they’ll be fulfilled. Icon by @wooflesthatwoof! I am currently very into genshin impact!!
Hello!! This blog is a bit old but I’m gonna come back to using it. Call me Not or Orange. I’m planning on writing for Genshin Impact, and I will be taking requests!! My masterlist will be on my carrd, but there’s currently not much there.
My favorite characters include Diluc, Childe, and Qiqi (though clearly there will be nothing romantic written with Qiqi). I really enjoy writing shipfic and found family, but all around I am incredibly versatile in writing. I have a decent amount of (unpublished) works for genshin I plan to hopefully be posting soon, spoilers marked, of course!! I also have an ao3, also in my carrd!! I hope to fulfill requests for hcs and one shots, and would work with almost all characters (though I’m iffy on Scaramouche/Signora/Baizhu and a few others characterization).
Send in a request if you wish!! I hope you have a great day, travelers!!
What's up, I've hopped fandoms. Welcome to my first (posted) bnha fic!! This is also an entry for the ficlet contest over at @bloodysugarhimikotoga!!
In which Toga Himiko and Dabi share a room at the league of villains hideout, and Dabi has growing concerns for the teen.
-
It was often-- or, well, more often than either of them would like-- that Dabi would enter his joint room with Toga late at night to find the teenager sobbing onto her pillows with the flush and poise of a Victorian woman on a fainting couch. It wasn't that she wanted to look so practiced in beauty with it, either, evidenced by her choking her tears as soon as possible and rolling into bed to pretend to be asleep before Dabi could ask. He never argued, assuming she found it more fun to cry in style. He'd of tried it, had he the ability to cry.
This time, though, her sobs didn't trickle out of the air like a mournful piano solo cut too short, but rather heightened at his presence, smooshing her face into the pillow she had previously been hugging to her chest. Dabi, having never seen her this upset before, lingered at the door.
"Dabi-chan…?" She whispered, peeking from her pink lace pillow, which was stained with blood, mascara, and tears. Her golden eyes were glazed, her face red and puffy in a way that was somehow not unattractive, and black mascara dripped its way down her cheeks.
He held his groans, because he loved the little monster like his siblings, taking a step closer to her bed. She sniffled as he approached, until he finally gave up his apprehension and parked himself on the foot of the bed.
From there her sobs roared to life again and she threw the pillow to dive into his arms, satin pajamas rubbing against his skin as she nestled her face in his neck. He tried to ignore the salty droplets on his less than healthy skin, hesitantly rubbing her back. She would be a great actress, he thinks half guilty, admiring her pension for the dramatic even as she cries her heart out.
"What's got you so worked up, kid?" He asks, trying to rub soothing circles into her back.
She shakes her head, pulling back and wiping at her face, smearing her makeup more in a way that made her sadness look artsy. Cakey foundation flakes off on her fingertips, an imitation of Shigaraki's quirk and Dabi's skin. "You won't understand."
"Yeah? Nobody understands us. I might be the closest thing you get to someone who does, so." He slaps his hands on his legs. "Take your chance, princess."
She huffs, leaning back on the bed to grab a pillow to pout into once more. "Nobody's ever gonna love me."
"What?" He looks at her like she's crazy. "You have me, Shiggy, Magne, Compress, Tw--" A pillow hits him in the face.
"Not like that!" She shouts, before calming down just a bit. "Like… How I want Izuku-chan and Ochaco-chan to."
Oh. "Oh."
Tears well up in her eyes again. "Like how you and Tomura-chan have."
"Well, that's not true either--"
"It is!" She pulls at her hair, taken down from her twin messy buns that actually took much longer to do well than expected. "You-- you love normally! Everyone thinks I'm a freak!"
"Nah, Togs, listen." He offers his hands out to her, palms up flat, waiting until she hesitantly places hers atop them, well manicured baby pink nails with a French tip a large contrast to his purple skin and staples. "You aren't like those idiot heroes. So what? Anyone worth it would look past that shit, because anyone worth it would love you for you. Do you think just anybody would look past my scars, or Shigaraki's quirk?"
She shakes her head, casting her gaze down to her lap, allowing her hair to cover her face.
"No, you're not in trouble, look at me." She does as commanded with a sniffle. "You're beautiful, bright, funny, and one of the best kids I've ever spent any time around. You're the best little sister I never had, and I have a little sister." She giggles a little at that, daring to break into a small enough smile that her fangs are visible. "Anyone smart enough to see that shit would be lucky to have you, and Izuku and Ochaco can suck it, alright? I'll rough them up extra next time, if you want."
She puffs out her cheeks. "That's not how love is supposed to work."
He shrugs. "I don't understand what I'm doing with love, either, kid. Sure, you don't feel it like normal or whatever, but I'm sure you'll find someone your own little brand of fucked up to be your partner in crime, 'kay?" She laughs as he leans in to tickle her. "You good now? Ready to go to sleep?"
She nods, standing up. "I gotta wash my face. Thanks, Onii-chan."
Dabi tries to pretend the statement doesn't make him wish he could cry as he lands in his own, much more plain, bed.
I've started a series on ao3 centered around Mukuro Ikusaba of Danganronpa getting revived and living on Jabberwock Island with the super danganronpa 2 cast-- please consider checking it out!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Be honest with me, would anybody read a bunch of one-shots of an AU where they use the neo world program to revive the dr1 cast, centered around Mukuro bonding with the dr2 cast on Jabberwock Island
Some queerplatonic kaebedo for arospec awareness week/@arospecfanworksweek (I nearly missed it but shhhh)
-
Whenever Kaeya comes back from an expedition, he visits Albedo. Albedo is by no means a physician, but Albedo can notice just about any change in Kaeya, and the study helps his research as well.
Kaeya always sits on Albedo’s desk, even though there’s a perfectly good chair for him. He smirks up at Albedo, knowing it’s the exact opposite of what Albedo wants. He doesn’t really mind, but he lets Kaeya believe he’s bothered, as he knows he likes it.
As the examination goes on, not unlike previous ones, Albedo notices one key difference.
“Kaeya.” He starts, the blue haired man humming in acknowledgement. “Your heart rate rises every time I touch you.”
His face grows darker, heart rate increasing even more as blood flushes to his face. “I-“
Albedo sighs, pulling at his gloves as he turns away. “I apologize, but I don’t fancy you, Kaeya. I simply wasn’t built for it.”
Kaeya grows redder. “No, wait I—“ He shakes his head. “I don’t either. I never… really have. This is different, I can feel it. I don’t know— I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t know how to define it.” He stares at his own lap. “I know you like definitions.”
Albedo thinks for a moment, about his own desires to please Kaeya, about how much he cares for him more than he’s ever cared for anyone else before. “Perhaps I could give up definition, for you.” He steps closer, watching as it dawns on Kaeya what he means.
“For me?” He repeats, voice cracking a little.
Albedo nods, leaning in to wrap his arms around Kaeya’s waist. Kaeya hesitates for just a second, squeezing him closer, just as tight.
I have more followers here so excuse the plug but please send me requests at my fic blog @bitchyyficyy, arospec requests will be higher priority bc it’s aro week. Preferably genshin but I could try with danganronpa
If I write him a fic he’ll come home right (drabble). Good luck to everybody pulling for Xiao!!
It feels like something trying to burst from him.
Red hot, but dark, dark, like tar, iron, cementing him down, a horrid weight sticking him here, what gives him flight and keeps him grounded all at once.
The triviality of the painkillers makes him angrier than he could express, but he was never really good at expressing anything anyways. Still, the anger is almost as fiery as the pain itself.
It’s almost like pins and needles, cones of destiny trying to rip from him, rip him at the seams. Would a seam ripper then be more apt than a needle?
He stands and he wallows and he thinks, unable to move from pain and from thought traps. He considers it and considers it and considers it, about what it is and why it is.
“Xiao.” The voice is soft, comforting, but commanding, as if it weren’t the first time it’d been said, as if his attention had been hard to grab. “It’s time to come home.”
crying even when you’re happy, smiling even when you’re feeling lonely
Venti drabble - spoilers for his story quest!!
-
Venti knows, deep down, that it isn’t real.
The boy in front of him isn’t his friend, not really. And he knows that, if he wanted, he could just look into a mirror to see him— to see his smile— but it’s nothing like what his brain can conjure as he slumbers.
Sometimes, Venti is small, his first physical form. Other times, he’s as he is now, a spitting image of him. He always comments with a knowing smile that pulls at Venti’s heartstrings.
But it never lasts.
Out of nowhere, he’ll turn, smile almost wicked. Venti always knows what words will fall from his lips just from the haunting expression.
“Venti.” His voice always sounds hollow, like a deep bellow of a cracked bell, almost ringing, echoing, as Venti realizes there’s nothing around them, only them, in a blank space. “It’s time to wake up.”
Then he disappears, as if he knows he’s the only reason Venti sleeps. And Venti starts falling.
He always awakens with a start, unsure where he is, tears pouring down his face.
A fic for Diona’s birthday!! With some Diluc x gn!traveler
-
Diona didn’t like Diluc. Diona liked the traveler, though, even if they were dating Diluc.
The traveler had taken Diona to catch butterflies, as they apparently needed them for something, and Diona liked to catch them (plus, she could probably add one to a drink to make it gross).
Eventually, the both of them got a bit off track, and ended up picking flowers.
“Hey, Diona?”
“Yes?” She responds, looking up from the windwheel aster she held in her hands.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Well, you just did, but sure.” She responds, grinning.
“I know you hate the wine industry… but why?”
Her face grows sour instantly.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want, but…”
“My daddy is always at Diluc’s tavern. If he wasn’t… If the wine industry didn’t exist, my daddy would be home more often.” She explains.
“Oh.” They soften. “Diona…”
“Don’t!” She hisses. “I don’t want—“
“I know I’ll never be a replacement, but you can talk to me, okay? Whenever I’m here, I’ll do whatever you want to do.” They tell her, tucking a flower stem under her hat so it sticks out beside her ear. “How does that sound?”
Diona just nods at first. “Good.” She stares at them for a moment, shocked. “Thank you.”
-
Getting back to the winery, the traveler hangs their coat at the door and ascends the stairs to find Diluc.
He wraps his arms around their waist in greeting, holding them close happily. They reciprocate, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“I missed you.” Diluc whispers.
“I missed you too, but I need to talk to you about something with the tavern.” They respond, breaking the hug.
“Is something the matter?” He asks, gesturing for them to sit down.
“Do you know Diona?” They ask. “She works at the cat’s tail?”
“Yes.” His brows furrow, only slightly, only in a way they notice. “Why?”
“Her father… comes to your tavern a lot. And she… doesn’t like it when he’s drunk. And…” They sigh. “She hates you for it, Diluc. I just don’t…”
Diluc stands. “I’ll have it resolved by morning.” He says, walking off.
“Diluc?” They call, but he’s on a mission.
Diona is positively delighted to find her father is no longer allowed in any of the bars in Mondstadt.
A Tartali songfic for Ashley by Halsey - spoilers for AR35!!
-
Zhongli didn’t like this aftermath.
Standing now, in this mirror that I built myself
He supposes it makes sense; if he didn’t have his gnosis anymore, he wouldn’t be able to see what happened. If he did not have his powers in that future, he could not see that future. Not that he tried. Not that he wanted to.
And I can’t remember why the decision wasn’t mine
Would he have reconsidered if he knew?
But it seems I’m only clingin’ to an idea now
Maybe. But he knows, still, that he would’ve come to the same conclusion.
Took my heart and sold it out to a vision that I wrote myself
Peaceful transition— making sure he could save Liyue if he needed to— was much preferred to falling victim to whatever the Tsaritsa would throw at him.
Don’t wanna be somebody in America just fighting the hysteria
Truly, he knew Childe’s intentions— he knew everything Childe would and could try to attain his gnosis. And he knew every outcome brought failure. And he knew that his failure brought war.
Only wanna die some days
“Ajax.” He greets, hesitantly. He doesn’t know how he’ll react.
Someday, someday, when I burst into flames
Childe hardly looks at him. Zhongli notices that he looks tired, that his shoulders sag more than normal, that his nonchalant but slightly intimidating walk seems to hold strain to it.
I’ll leave you the dust, my love
“I know—“
Hope a bit of it will be enough to help remember the
“Don’t.” The harbinger responds, voice weak, though likely not from emotional pain.
Days when we came to this place
“It would’ve happened one way or another.” Zhongli offers, as if to soothe, as if to placate.
I told you I’d spill my guts, I left you to clean it up
“I think I would’ve preferred another.” Childe laughs, playing it off as he walks way.
I’m bursting out of the
“Can I tell you the truth?” Zhongli asks. Childe doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at him, but stops at the doorway of the bank. “There were too many outcomes where you died.”
Seems like now it’s impossible to work this out
Childe lingers. He lingers for a long, long moment, leaning on the doorframe, not looking at Zhongli. Finally, he just walks off without a word.
I’m so committed to an old ghost town
Zhongli, despite breaking his commitment, had planned to stay in Liyue. Childe, despite his commitment being completed, though not by himself, had no reason to stay in Liyue. And yet…
Is it really that strange if I always wanna change?
He was different. Zhongli didn’t expect it, because Zhongli didn’t know, because Zhongli couldn’t see this outcome all the way through. He was different because of this outcome. But different was better than dead.
And if only the time and space between us wasn’t lonely
“Tartaglia.” He tries this time. And whether it’s because of the name choice or because he’s well now, he gets a response.
I’d disintegrate into a thousand pieces
It’s only a glance, but Zhongli missed those ocean blue eyes more than he realized.
Think I’m makin’ a mistake, but if I decide to break
“Can I explain?”
Who will fill the empty space? So…
They sit together, in the room Childe has been renting, and it’s undeniable that the tension in the room has changed entirely. Childe should be glaring daggers from the way the room feels so cold, but he’s smiling, and that’s even worse.
Now, if I figure this out
“I knew how it would all end.” He starts. “I knew that everything would be alright. I knew… I knew war would not be brought to Liyue. That was the most important factor.” There’s another factor, one that matters almost just as much, that he doesn’t say.
Apart from my beating heart
“And that involved… a contract with the Tsaritsa? Faking your own death?” Childe questions.
It’s a muscle, but it’s still not strong enough to carry the
Zhongli’s fingers wrap tighter around the cup of tea Childe served him, the warmth grounding him. “Any outcome that involved you fighting me for my gnosis, involved…” He trails off, hesitant to say his first thought. “War.”
Weight of the choices I’ve made
Childe knows what he’s dancing around. He said it to him before, in the bank, but here, with the energy so different from any other time Zhongli was in this room, it feels he’ll break something fragile if he says it outright.
I told you I’d ride this out
Childe offers him a hand— an olive branch. A signifier of trust.
hiya! my name’s beau, welcome to my writing sideblog! i was entirely inspired by @bitchyyficyy, who also helped me set up a lot of this so please check him out!!
a lot of what i write right now is genshin impact, i absolutely adore the characters and lore so hopefully i end up with a bunch of fics to share. i primarily write ship content, but i’m absolutely up to try almost anything!
my masterlist is here on my carrd, which is currently very empty but should be kept updated as i post!!
please feel free to send in requests as well! i’ll do hcs, drabbles, one-shots, etc. for just about any genshin character, though if i think my characterization would be shakier i’ll let you know before trying the request
Normally if he searched the winds, he would find him. That would be reserved to citizens of Mondstadt and those who worship him, unless they had an anemo vision.
This worried Venti for many reasons. Why couldn’t he find Xiao? Did something happen? There should be no reason he’d suddenly stop, unless he was disconnected from the winds somehow or…
He decided to go to Liyue and find out.
He went to Zhongli first, to ask if he’d seen him.
He finds him laboring over a cup of tea, worry scribbled all over his face.
“...are you okay?” Venti finally asked.
Zhongli glanced up at him, opening his mouth, then closing it again.
Venti sat down at the table with him.
“I’m just… worried.” He sighed. “About one of my adepti.”
Venti feels his blood run cold. “Is it…” His mouth feels dry. “Is it Xiao?”
Zhongli nods softly. “He… he can normally handle his powers, but I think he…”
“He’s okay, right?!” Venti asked urgently.
“He isn’t dead, or dying, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Zhongli says quickly. “His powers take a lot out of him. He can manage it well, most of the time, but today he just… pushed himself too far. He collapsed and couldn’t even bring himself out of his transformation. I had to scramble to reverse it and bring him to get help.” He sighs again, blowing his own hair out of his face. “He passed out, and Baizhu promised he’d let me know when he woke up.”
Venti curls up a little bit. “I was looking for him… I can normally find people that have anemo visions with my powers, but… he wasn’t showing up.”
Zhongli reaches for his pocket. “That’s because the first solution I thought of for reversing his transformation was parting him from his vision.” He throws it at Venti, who would’ve dropped it had he not used his own wind to save it from the ground. “You can bring it back to him, then?”
Venti nods and stands to leave.
“Be… careful.” Zhongli says. “He doesn’t like people seeing him vulnerable.”
“I know.” Venti responds, and then goes with the wind.
It does not take long to get to the pharmacy. As his feet touch the ground again, he peers in desperately. The counter seems empty.
“Xiao?” He calls quietly, worried about being too loud and starting or upsetting him.
He hears talking in the distance, and then a soft pattering, quick, coming towards him.
“Are you looking for Mr. Xiao?” Asks a voice he couldn’t see the source of.
“Uhm, yes, I am.” He answers, darting his eyes around to find the person talking.
“He is in the back. Qiqi can lead you to him.”
He finally finds them; A small zombie girl, opening up the counter for him to come behind.
“Qiqi thinks she remembers Mr. Xiao talking about you.” She pulls out a notebook. “Ven… ti?” She asks, looking between him and the pages.
“Yep, that’s me!” He grins, much more gleefully than he truly feels.
She nods with a tinge of finality, then begins to lead him back.
She leads him to an infirmary room, with a cot holding one injured adeptus.
“Xiao.” He breathes.
Xiao opens his eyes, clenching his jaw. All his muscles seem to be tensed, even as he sprawls across every inch of the cot. His right arm seems nearly limp.
“Venti?” He asks, voice breaking. He clears his throat quickly. “Qiqi.” He calls her closer. She stumbles up to him, and he whispers in her ear. She nods and scurries off.
Venti kneels by Xiao’s side. Xiao turns to face him slowly, and it’s almost as if he’d never taken off a mask in the first place, like he were still in his other form, and still had himself in fight mode— it seems his mask has fallen away.
“Can I be honest?” He croaks.
“Of course.” Venti responds, offering his hand.
Xiao takes it desperately in his left, squeezing hard. “It hurts, Venti.” Tears well in his eyes. Venti has never seen Xiao cry. Venti does not do well when people are crying. “The painkillers…” He pauses to take a breath. “They’ve barely even made a dent in it. I don’t know…” He gasps. “I don’t know why.”
Venti feels like his heart is shattering. “I have to tell Dr. Baizhu.” He says.
“No.” He begs. “I don’t want…”
“He won’t think you’re weak, Xiao. He’s a doctor, he knows you’re injured. And you can’t rest if you’re in pain like this.”
“I think… something happened to my arm.” He looks at his right arm, as if he’s straining to move it. It budges, but just barely. “It hurts the most, like a desperate ache. From my wrist to my shoulder…”
“Please, let me tell him.” Venti requests. “I promise he’ll make it better. And I’ll— I’ll make sure he knows… I’ll make it all better, okay?”
“I don’t want you to leave.” Xiao responds.
“Qiqi!” Venti calls. Xiao drops his hand as the girl scurries in, almost falling over in her attempt to slow down. “Can you tell Dr. Baizhu I need to talk to him?”
She nods again, and runs back out the door.
“I won’t leave you. Not if you don’t want me to.” Venti promises.
Baizhu comes in with Qiqi, who seems a lot more urgent about getting there than he.
“So you’re Venti.” He asks.
Venti just nods. “Could I talk to you…” He glances at Xiao. “Semi-privately?”
He turns to Qiqi. “Can you go stand at the counter and make sure nobody comes in, Qiqi?” He asks. She gives an urgent nod and walks away, slower this time. She waves to Xiao once Baizhu turns.
They walk to a corner of the room, in order to not disturb Xiao. Venti explains everything Xiao told him, and Baizhu slowly looks more and more worried and disturbed.
“Thank you for informing me.” He says once Venti is done talking. “I must… go collect something to help. You will stay with him, I assume?”
“Of course.”
“I will not be gone long.” Baizhu departs. Venti rejoins Xiao’s side.
“He’s going to get you something.” He says, taking his hand again. Xiao nods. “I would call every healer in Mondstadt to help you if you’d allow.”
“I know you would.” Xiao answers, staring at the ceiling.
“You’re not saying I can’t.” Venti jokes, offering a little smile.
“Don’t.” Xiao says, and whether he’s shutting down the idea or the joke in general, Venti stops smiling.
He breaks the resulting silence by saying, “I wish I could help more.”
Xiao still doesn’t look at him. “You being here is nice.” He says instead.
Venti takes the hand he’s holding and presses a soft kiss to Xiao’s knuckles. Xiao shivers, finally looking at him again.
Could Venti really soothe his pain? No, not at all. Were the kisses comforting to Xiao all the same?
He would not admit such to anyone else, but Venti definitely knew.
I'm IN LOVE with your writing. It's so good and, idk, tender? Soothing, in some way???? I have no idea how to explain it, but it's amazing. Would you be okay with it if I drew fanart inspired by it? particularly the kaeya/childe one :o it's alright if not! I hope you have a lovely day/night \o
HELLO?? IM
YES. YES TO THE FANART IM— THANK YOU SO MUCH???? I. AKDKWKDKSK. I GENUINELY. THIS ASK IS SO NICE THANK YOU??
will you make out with me underneath the shelter of the balcony?
A Childe/Kaeya drabble (someone please tell me their ship name)
-
Kaeya never expected to privately make an alliance with a member of the Fatui.
He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to align with a Fatui member, of course; he’d never intentionally do something that would hurt his home. No, this one Fatui member wanted the opposite of that. This Fatui member hated their ways.
They had decided the best way to help Kaeya get intel is for him to pose as Tartaglia’s date to a few galas. For the most part they’d just sit together at dinner mostly silently, dance a bit, getting close to people they thought would be talking about important points, maybe flirt back and forth to keep up appearances. Nothing even that couple-y.
But this time? This time, Tartaglia was a lot different.
Pushing Kaeya up against the wall, leaning in to his ear, whispering so softly Kaeya strains to hear, Tartaglia says “trust me.”
Their eyes meet, and Kaeya nods.
Tartaglia leans in, and Kaeya is surprised how soft his lips are. He brings his hand up to Tartaglia’s cheek, eyes falling shut as he indulges a bit more than he should. Tartaglia deepens the kiss in turn, and for a moment Kaeya forgets why they’re doing this.
Tartaglia pulls away first, breath hot against Kaeya’s lips. He gives a little smirk to the knight, a knowing glint that Kaeya believes is probably similar to one often in his own eye.
“I just wanted to evade suspicion. There was no need to indulge so deeply, but… I certainly am not complaining.” He whispers.
“It sounds like you are.” Kaeya tries to distract from the warmth in his own cheeks, but his voice fails him a little as his eyes desperately dart around Tartaglia’s face.
Tartaglia chuckles and wraps an arm around Kaeya’s waist, reminding Kaeya of his position against the wall, Tartaglia’s other arm just above his head, pinning him there. “As much as I’d love to sit here and do this longer… I think you’d prefer your intel.”
Kaeya slips from Tartaglia’s grip to join a snack table. As he walks away, though, he turns to Tartaglia and winks.
Xiao hurts a lot in many ways; he hurts a lot as in often, and he hurts a lot as in plentifully.
It hurts Venti that he can’t help him.
He doesn’t like to show it, but Venti starts to see what his tells are; he rubs his wrists and joints and grimaces and keeps his eyes closed rather than glaring at everything like he normally does.
“Xiao.” Venti says once, after watching Xiao rub his wrist again for the millionth time. “Can we talk for a moment?”
“I don’t like that question.” He responds. “Especially coming from you.”
Venti chuckles to release the tension. “I’m just…” He pauses for a little too long. “Worried.”
“Why?” He turns to look at Venti.
He dodges eye contact with his boyfriend, instead opting to look at his arms. “You’re hurting right now, aren’t you?”
“What?” Xiao asks.
“You keep, like… rubbing your wrists and stuff. You do that when it hurts, don’t you?” He explains.
Xiao’s ears tint pink. His eyes dart away from Venti, and he almost starts to turn away.
“Xiao, it’s okay.” He smiles. “You can tell me when you’re hurting. I’d rather you did, than… than to hide it.”
Xiao keeps flicking his gaze back and forth between Venti’s face and his own hands. Finally, he just shoves his face into Venti’s neck.
Venti chuckles to himself, wrapping his arms around him. “Do you want me to draw you a bath?”
“Only if you come with me.” Xiao answers muffledly.
