Alright let me try this again.
What if Reader vented to Birb Xiao, not knowing that it was actually him?
They talk about their fears and frustrations, letting out all the words they've wanted to tell a person, but they have to settle for their pretty bird because no one will listen.
So Xiao is just sitting there, resting in the True Creator's hands, listening as he gets a glimpse of how they truly feel.
They say the milileth is like a raging stampede with their spears and swords. They say how the Qixing all seem so cold and unfeeling. They talk about how Zhongli genuinely terrifies them, because he acted so kind to others but was borderline cruel when hunting them.
They talk about Xiao, too, but they don't seem to have many complaints. They haven't seen him in a while, and the last time they crossed paths with him, he just... let them run. The adeptus had looked angry, but also a bit startled (and perhaps, a bit guilty?) at the sight of them. They even once overheard him leading milileth soldiers astray ("by mistake" says the creator, but Xiao knows the truth) by saying the creator had left a while ago, when really, they were still very nearby. While they say they are still a bit scared of him, they don't fear him as much as they fear the others.
All the while, Xiao sits, still as a stone. He takes in every word, every shaky breath and darting glance. He nuzzles into their hand, hoping to offer even the slightest bit of comfort.
He hopes that they continue to be unafraid of him in the future.
-Sibling Anon
he who is without sin
a/n: decided to make this one a full fic for no reason in particular (i don’t have an actual post shhhh)
word count: 1.1k
-> warnings: imposter sagau things, minor blood mention, spoilers for xiao lore, some spoilers for liyue (like names and titles of people/places)
-> gn!reader (you/yours)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay
< masterlist > (has context for bird!xiao if you’re lost)
from the moment that xiao was saved, when his new name was bestowed upon him and he signed his contract with morax, xiao had made a promise. another contract, one without physical ink and paper, one bound to his soul.
one to you, his creator.
a pledge to stand by your side, a clause written in by the god that forged his original contract, releasing him from his duties to liyue to serve the one that had granted him life. a permanent extra sweep to his duties, always on the lookout for the highest god above all.
however, he was not the first to find… ‘you.’
‘you’ had landed in sumeru, nested in the large tree surrounding the akademiya. ‘you’ had climbed down, introduced ‘yourself’ to the sages with a smile. everybody was quick to give ‘you’ the glory rightly the creator’s, ushering ‘you’ atop a throne of silver and gold, offerings laid at ‘your’ feet with all the haste of those deprived of the divine.
xiao may have hung back at the beginning, unwilling to allow his karma to infect ‘your’ other worshippers, but he still did his duty. he still kept ‘your’ path clear of enemies, and was the first to pick up his blade when word broke of your imposter.
and yet, when he laid eyes upon the one he was supposed to hate, he was the first to repent.
xiao took a shaking breath, crossing his arms around himself. “morax?”
the elder god turned, amber eyes soft. “what is it, xiao?”
xiao marched through dihua marsh, polearm gripped tightly in his hand. a large hilichurl camp had been reported, which while not an issue normally, was the third in the last four days.
irritation was openly displayed on his face, the anemo around him simmering with his anger. why did the abyss have to act up now, when they were on a hunt? surely even they, as infected and riddled with darkness as they were, worshipped a god? or was that the source of their evil?
he kept marching north, only turning his head at the sound of a soft gasp.
“how will i know when the creator arrives?”
morax smiled, not upset like xiao had anticipated. “don’t worry about such things. when the time comes-“
you stood on the path branching west, eyes wide. you looked nearly exactly like the ’you’ on the throne, the same cool eyes that called for your death now wide and staring at him in fear.
“-you will know.”
you turned on your heel, your armful of sunsettias tumbling to the floor, but… xiao did not chase you.
instead he brought a hand to chest, under his necklace. he pressed, feeling the still-regular beat of his heart.
he pressed, searching for the place where his karma used to be.
from the moment that xiao realized the truth, when his new duty was bestowed upon him, he had made a promise. another contract, one without physical ink and paper, one bound to his soul.
one to you, his creator.
he flew down from the sky, landing in your outstretched hand. he chirped a greeting, body relaxing under your gentle touch.
“hello there, friend,” you cooed, sitting straighter under the tree. your tree, the one you kept coming back to, the one he always directed other adepti away from because it was for you, not them. not him.
you fed him as usual, but stayed strangely silent. no stories of the kindness mitachurls showed you, no update on how close or far the people searching for you had gotten, none of the usual things he looked forward to. you just… sat. watching him in your hand, an emotion he didn’t know the name of drawing your brows close.
maybe you just didn’t want to talk today? but if something was troubling you, he wanted you to share, to allow him some of the weight off your shoulders. then again, he was just a bird to you…
“do you know ganyu, pretty bird?”
xiao froze, thankful he was facing your palm so you couldn’t see his eyes widening.
“i thought i did.”
he looked up, carefully, daring to meet your eyes. this time, he could pin down what you were feeling: betrayal.
his finch heart burned.
your thumb pet over his wings, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. not now.
“i thought she was kind.”
she was, he knew firsthand. how she worried over the tianquan, fretted over her skills both with a bow and with a pen, how her and the yuheng kept each other afloat in the sea of endless work assigned to the jade chamber.
you smiled. it was bitter. “i guess i should have known better regarding the adepti.”
xiao’s heartbeat raced in his ears, something hot burning a hole in his chest. he was an adeptus, he wanted to say, he could be trusted.
but you didn’t know him as an adeptus. you knew him as your little songbird, your friend, the one you continued to risk your life for, even if you didn’t know it.
he chirped once, somber. he wanted to apologize, to take up his blade against his own king on your behalf, to walk up to the fraud’s throne and watch them bleed red.
but you didn’t need that. so he sat in your hand, leaning into your fingers, and let you speak.
as it turned out, today had been a busy day for you. you had wandered into the path of a millelith patrol, which had happened before, but not with keqing at the head of it. not when she had darted forward in a flash of lighting, electro arcing along her sword. not when she’d pulled out and blew a special whistle even as you ran, one that you couldn’t hear but could feel under your skin, taunting you as you tried to navigate the maze of bishui plain.
when you told him of ganyu’s frostflake arrows, he wanted to cry. when you described the anger in zhongli’s eyes, he started to weep.
you didn’t deserve this pain. you didn’t deserve having to outrun planet befall, you didn’t deserve to fear your life being stolen by those who should protect you at all costs- he should have been there. he was south, too far south to hear the whistle, but he should have been called.
he should have protected you.
under the shifting leaves of a sandbearer tree, your songbird cried. and you, none the wiser, continued to spell out the cause of his torment.
.
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You know: Re: “there’s an in-story reason there are no fat characters in xyz media,” I feel like there’s a lack of understanding about the root idea behind why there should be fat characters regardless of the “in universe” explanations.
Im going to keep this conversation in line with Into the Spiderverse/Hero media, because I’ll be honest: I don’t disagree with the idea that there’s never a reason for there to be less body type diversity in a cast. I think the reasons are fewer and far between than people claim, but I don’t think they’re not there. Maybe it’s important for worldbuilding, maybe there’s another reason. Just getting it out of the way so I can say that I’m not talking about these specific instances where fat characters wouldn’t work in the narrative for whatever reasons.
I’m talking about: Spider-Man cant be fat. He’s too busy running around and swinging on webs to be out of shape. There’s no way there could be a fat avenger, they’re way too active. Etc etc.
Ok. Cool. I don’t care.
When it comes to body diversity in media, my first thought is not usually the in-universe reasons for the body diversity, for fat characters being fat. My mind is always going to the intention behind the writing first and foremost.
The Spider-Man series, and a lot of superhero stories, are stories about empowerment. Spider-Man itself is a character built around the idea that “anyone can wear the mask.” The spiderverse movies are built around that idea.
Spider-Man, in universe, is a character who fights crime, who has the weight of the world on his shoulders, who does super cool stunt moves and is usually like 16 years old and fighting off super monsters.
But, like. That’s the in universe stuff. The subtext, the reasoning for the plot, the character evolution, is so much more than that, isn’t it? It’s a story about empowerment, about encouraging the viewer, you, whoever you are absorbing this media, to take great risks and to evolve. Spiderverse isn’t asking you to put on a mask and swing around and fight a woman with octopus tentacles. Spiderverse is using a very specific in-universe challenge to ask you how you’d operate with great power, and the price to use it responsibly. Etcetera etcetera. Generally speaking.
And anyone can be viewing that story. Even a fat person. Who wouldn’t “realistically” be able to be a spider-man. Fat people still face adversity, still identify with having goals and taking risks. Like anyone else. That’s the point of the “anyone can wear the mask” thing. Why couldn’t there be a fat Spider-Man, for audiences to relate to just as much as they would a skinnier Spider-Man, but with the added “hey, that’s like me,” factor for some people who don’t usually get that?
And then comes the other stuff. The fact that, while a lot of media may not have positive representation of fat characters, they still have fat characters. They still exist. And where are they?
Well, usually being the butt of the joke, probably.
We can’t have a fat spider-man, but we can have a Peter B. Parker, down on his luck, pitying himself for the decisions he won’t make, at a low-point in his life. And how do we portray this? Oh, yeah, we’ll have him be fat. And we won’t stop pointing it out. We won’t stop mentioning it in a way that would have a laugh-track playing after every mention if we could. Because being fat is bad, because being a fat spider-man means you’ve done something wrong. And once you’re doing better? You’ll be less fat, probably. Because it means you’re probably doing something with yourself.
I don’t mean to say that there’s absolutely no reason a person could gain weight when they’re at a low point in their life, or that losing weight can’t be a sign of someone’s progress in their life. But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the writing, I’m talking about the framing of this. Peter B. Parker is the only fat Spider-Man in Into The Spiderverse, (I know there are plus sized background characters in across the spiderverse, but theyre few and far between and do not take away from the treatment of Peter B in the first movie) and they’re going to make sure you remember that, and they’re going to hope you laugh at him for it. Peter B Parker isn’t a real person, but a real person, real people, had to write his character and how people treated him.
TLDR: If you’re making a story, I don’t give a shit if there’s “no reason” for a character to be fat in universe. Let them be fat anyways. There’s probably “no reason” for half of the things they are or aren’t, but we still give characters those traits anyways. And I guarantee, in the stories where there “shouldn’t be” fat characters, there will be anyways. They just will be there to be laughed at, to point at as a sign of “greed,” to be the antithesis of what the protagonist should be. Because from a writing standpoint, apparently, where anyone can wear the mask or whatever, being fat is still wrong.
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