#hopefully I can find some other people that love xiao or yumeship with xiao

[hhhecates]

# — pairings: xiao x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, xiao

# — summary: takes place during the 2.7 quest Perilous Trail. What if you manage to dive after him and get the both of you out of the chasm? What if you're tired of him constantly treating himself like he's expendable?

# — warnings: angst, mentions of xiao's past, xiao's suicidal tendencies ofc, xiao cries (yes this is totally a warning)

# — tags: hurt/comfort (?), canon compliant, drabble, emotional

# — notes: this is quite an old work, and to be honest for a long time I wasn't even sure I ever wanted to post my writings and drawings on tumblr again. After much deliberation I've decided to come back. I really love xiao and that never once waned in the years I've been absent from tumblr. I understand that his character now has lost a lot of popularity, but still, I wish for the people who love him like me to be able to enjoy new fanfics, giggle over fanarts and maybe even gather together to share hcs and just have fun. I hope this ficlet finds you well.

They call his name and suddenly his eyes snap open, from gentle surrender to frenzied searching. From the acquiesce that comes with the knowledge that his duty has been performed until the last of his breaths, to the wretched way that last breath catches in his throat and seemingly sets him ablaze.

Staring back at him is a gaze as dark as the abyss that threatens to swallow him whole, equal part unyielding and volatile, equal part selfish and selfless.

"What do you think you're doing? Why- why are you still here?" his voice, a tiny, mangled thing, rips from his throat in an ungraceful, desperate way that's unbecoming of him.

"What do you think? To get us out of here of course. I have a plan!" They shout, the determination in their words almost makes Xiao recoil, bile rises in his throat.

"So did I, that's why I used the last of my strength to teleport all of you out of here, or so I thought." his tone, usually poised and sedate, tempered by thousands of years of torment and endurance, now instead teeters on something much more raw. If they weren't falling to their death, maybe they'd wince at the indignation that seeps into his words like gangrene spreading in his bloodstream.

"I wasn't planning on leaving you behind from the beginning, even if you didn't care for making it out alive from the very beginning."

Something in Xiao, frail and precarious, already hanging in an equilibrium of desperation and reverence, snaps, his throat burns when he shouts, gritty and soiled, like blood stubbornly staining his fingetips and clinging to his nails.

"This... This was the only way!"

"NO, STOP IT." They rebuke him. There's an unfiltered sort of rage in their voice, one that drops all pretense of reason. It makes him stop and begs for attention.

"I HATE IT. The way you look around, wondering who you have to die for today, everyday. That you believe you are nothing more than testament to purpose. Like it's your duty to let this purpose take you apart and dismember you." selfish acrimony wavers, until it is extinguished, and all that remains in its ashes, is grief.

"You gave yourself up so easily."

"I GAVE EVERYTHING-" Xiao howls disjointedly, so incredibly vulnerable, so terribly human.

"EXACTLY. And you still don't believe you deserve anything more than damnation for that. Still don't reach your hand out for fear it will stain my own with shame and make me collateral damage of who you think you've become."

"I can't save you." Xiao slurs, lips sticking together, like his mouth is sealed with cotton. It sounds like a confession. How ironic it is really, when Xiao pleads, a God, the Conqueror of Demons kneels before the altar of a human and pleads for something that frightfully resembles forgiveness.

"You are right, you are not my salvation.

I am.

Nobody is going to save me, make me believe that there's something more to me than rotten effort and spiteful thoughts.

I am salvation, and so are you." They look at him like there's triumph in crashing when they should be soaring.

"You are salvation.

Even if I can't convince you of it.

I can't call your name in a kinder way and expect you to recognize it as yours. But I refuse to let you believe that you're nothing more than perdition." They reach out their hand, willing for the gesture to seem expectant, when they all too well know that the tremble in their fingers spells imploration.

They see it, the way his pupils narrow in hesitation.

They don't see it, but they know it, he's turned away, hair obscuring his face, Xiao cries.

They wonder if it's the first time it happens, if tears obstinately made their way down his face when an evil god made a weapon out of him, if something akin to relief diluted in salt gathered in his eyes when Morax freed him from his enslavement, if regard towards his fallen companions could be expressed in silent tears as he roamed the quietude of Guili Plains at night. Then they remember, the way he told them that tears are nothing but an insult to a Yaksha's duty.

Xiao reaches for their hand they wonder if it's presumptuous to think that Xiao cries for them or for himself.

Header credits to kiochisato