The Door Stares At You. You Stare Back.

the door stares at you. you stare back.

while strange, materializing doors in forests is definitely a grounds for running the hell away, you are captivated by it instead. of course, you had always been drawn to strange things, so perhaps that should not have been surprising.

your eyes flicker down to the doorknob. in the early light of day, it almost seems to glow. you put a hand on it, the other gripping your backpack.

well, it isn’t like you’re going to be late to school. it wasn’t starting for another two hours, anyways. you can afford to take a detour. so, with one final look behind, you twist the handle and step forward.

only for your foot to land on nothing.

“HOLY SH—“

and then you are plummeting down.

your hand darts forwards to catch your fall. unfortunately, there is nothing to catch onto, and you are met with rushing, howling winds. are you screaming?  you aren’t sure. it’s getting increasingly difficult to breathe, and the tempest continues to rage against you. you squint. stormy skies blur. a mass of blue flashes across you vision and then—

“oomph—!”

you land with a muted thud, and it buckles slightly.

the wind is knocked out of you, and a roar erupts from the thing you landed on. you feel the reverberations ripple like an airplane engine. hands scramble to grab onto something, until they grasp onto rough fibers.

your vision is obscured by splashes of sky blue and teal. despite this, you press yourself closer to the...animal? creature? but it can’t be. you may not have remembered everything from physics class but common sense says that there is no way an animal this size should be able to fly, not to mention that it’s blue. this has to be a drea—

you yelp as the creature throws you off.

time slows just enough for you to see. glowing eyes and massive wings, and its horns fade into azure. you’re in awe. it’s a dragon. (it’s eerily familiar.)

but there’s still the issue of you plummeting to your death.

you screw your eyes tight. this is it. this is how you are going to die, and—

“careful!”

your peripheral catches yellow and porcelain white before a body crashes into your side and knocks the air out of you. black spots dance in your vision, and you’re so winded that you only realize you’ve stopped falling when your sneakers touch solid ground.

your knees buckle under you and you crumple onto stone and concrete. oh thank god, you’re not dead after all.

“hey! hey, are you okay?” a voice asks you frantically. “did she just—?”

“paimon saw her fall out of the sky!”

paimon…?

your head snaps up at the mention of the familiar name. paimon, the genshin guide fairy? she can’t actually exist, right? but crouched down in front of you is a girl clad in red and brown and oh, oh it’s amber.

you blink rapidly and shake your head. this can’t be real.

but the ground you are sitting on is too solid, the colors too vivid to be a dream. a hand is put on your shoulder, and you look up to see lumine and paimon, the latter of which hovers above. you look around and see mondstadt, exactly like how it had been shown in the game. it’s windy. you move to stand up, albeit shakily.

you take a breath. “where—“

“well, well. isn’t this interesting.”

“this feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

the splashes of color on the horizon, the stars rising, the moon shining. the snow blankets the ground and the park.

“yeah.”

he takes your hand in his, interlacing them. you look down at them. you’ve always marveled at how pretty kageyama’s hands were, strange as it sounds. most people who played volleyball had weathered hands, bruised arms, stiff fingers, but then again, kageyama wasn’t like most people.

“y’know, i’m glad i met you,” you confess, lifting your head from his shoulder. “and i’m glad that you stayed.”

kageyama sucks in a breath and looks down at you. you’re hit with a feeling of deja vu. the last time you had been in a situation like this, you had chickened out.

his eyes flicker down to your lips briefly.

“can i…?”

you don’t give him a verbal answer.

it’s warm.

just dropping by to say i love your writing so much 🥺 top tier❣️

aaaaaa thank you !! i haven't written much in a while so i really appreciate this :>

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐈𝐗. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐒

( why does tragedy exist? because you are full of rage. why are you full of rage? BECAUSE YOU ARE FULL OF GRIEF. )

chara : xiao fandom : genshin impact quote cr : anne carson a/n : rewritten + revised 3 yr old fic :^) my very first xiao fic

IN DARKNESS LIES :

REGRET : TO FORGET SINS OF DAYS GONE BY IS AN ACT OF COWARDICE, A VIOLENCE SO KNOWN THAT IT LINGERS IN CENTURIES PAST. to carry the weight of one's burdens is a trial of living, of survival, and it is one xiao knows to endure until the world lays him to rest and the calling is heard by another.

he tires of it, this cruelty of karma known. the blood on his hands serve as a reminder of the horrid past meant to be spoken of and remembered. it is a hauntening, these phantom ties. its thorns take hold of his being, burning and burning and burning into his mind and flesh in memorial of those he brought brutality upon under another's command.

"keep your distance." an adeptus warns, but the trace of false malice in his words is drowned by a melancholy, an aching, a yearning. his soul trembles in your presence, and he does not know what to make of this.

yakshas survive loneliness through the protection of others. it is all he knows. it is all he is meant for, after all. it is his redemption -- words spoken for his own sake, his own comfort, but redemption is something unobtainable, just as you are.

it's better this way. safer.

what will come in the near future, he wonders, if you continue down this path?

in his lifetime, he has witnessed too much loss, most of it caused by him. perhaps he had a heart once. he simply wonders if it was torn from him or whether he rid of it himself. a final act of cruelty, of release, of mercy.

( it doesn't matter. it doesn't. it won't. a single beating heart would not make a difference in this world. not his. )

CORRUPTION : & THE SUNLIGHT IS TOO BRIGHT AN EXISTENCE , TOO KIND & GENTLE IN THE ENDEAVORS OF A MADDENING DARKNESS. it reminds him of someone, and to even indulge in the thought brings reluctance.

you are too close, yet he cannot distance himself, even if he tried. you find a way. you always do. perhaps that is what draws him closer.

his head hurts. he cannot think. it is happening again. again, again, again--

he is weak. he knows this all too well. all these years of drowning in hatred, all these years of fighting and fighting, yet the darkness is the one thing he fails to defeat. a flood of memories intertwined with havoc and destruction: endless, ruthless. he will never escape it, will he? but surely it is deserved, after all. it must be. it has to be. he seeks logic in the suffering because it is the only way he survives.

( somewhere, there is an absence of being in him. in eternities, there is much untold and too little addressed, comfort lost yet desired so deeply. but his suffering is meant to be unsaid, and so he will remain silent, keep his pain close to the soul until it gnaws away and away until there is nothing left.

"the warmth feels nice, doesn't it?"

your words are kind. gentle. bright. the pain dissipates, slow, and the darkness turns into a soft light. the voices of those he ruined fade in the background, and all he hears is you. it's always you.

he does not respond initially. you offer a faint smile, hand resting on his, slowly, hesitant. he likes the feeling more than he expects, likes it more than he should.

his lips part. he pauses, afraid, and answers.

"yes," his voice trembles, but you pretend to not notice, "it does." )

FORGIVENESS / re: AWAKENING : INSIDE YOUR HEART RESIDES A WRATH , A VICIOUS SELF-LOATHING. WHEN WILL YOU PUT IT TO REST? HOW WILL YOU PUT IT TO REST?

-- CAN YOU?

his soul is too entangled with those he has destroyed and slaughtered; there is no separation in existence. his soul carries the many who do not live on, and if you searched closely enough, you would see the way it rots, withers, and decays in despair.

why doesn't it frighten you? why doesn't this darkness, this violence-- why doesn't any of this frighten you? he has made what little peace he has with it; he hopes you will, as well. there is no saving here. he does not need it.

you are a force : an enigma of hope and everything wondrously bright. it is contagious, almost-- but he is quick to remember who he is, and he is quick to remember the difference between higher beings and mortals. you cannot save him. he hopes you will remember that. if there is ever a way out of limbo, he will find it himself. but until then, he will stay here, alone and in the place he belongs.

"xiao." you speak his name and he only hears love. your fingertips ghost over the markings that have found a home on his arm, touch reverent as ever-- delicate, holy. "you are more than your darkness."

your voice wavers, but he pretends to not notice. his gaze meets yours, and it is painful. it is love; it is grieving. there is a heavy yearning in the deep hues of amber, and in such emotion, there is the knowing that he cannot have what he desires, because what he desires is too good, too innocent, and he knows all too well that light and darkness are not meant to coexist. but he aches with weakness, and he allows himself to succumb to it.

( now, he is the one who closes the distance. hand in hand, a subtle squeeze of affection. you cannot help but smile at the proximity, and his breath hitches at the sight of such quiet joy.

you frighten me, he whispers, lips finding yours under the moonlight.

perhaps this is another cruelty, another trial he must endure. xiao knows this. but for you, he will happily do so. )

Can I have him?

the lantern rite is absolutely stunning.

hundreds of glimmering lanterns dot the skies, hanging above liyue harbor and floating for miles on end. the moon, more alive than dead for once, hangs in the night. this year is particularly spectacular, likely because of the too-recent attack on the city.

despite the pointlessness of it all, it’s one of the things xiao allows himself to admire.

“it’s pretty, isn’t it?”

ah, you. the reason why he’s here in the first place, somehow.

perhaps it was your persistence, or the circumstances, or any number of other variables that could have led to this moment. begrudgingly, xiao admits to himself that he doesn’t regret coming here as much as he thought he would.

and then he looks over at you. you’re positively glowing, and his breath catches.

the lantern rite might be stunning, but you are nothing short of breathtaking.