quick apology fic to xiao for missing his bday </3 which doubles as a character study of xiao and an exploration of how you as the player interact with the self aware characters in self aware au
it’s been a couple of weeks since you last used him.
or has it only been several days? whether it’s days or years, it all feels like the blink of an eye to him. the flow of time is somewhat of a nebulous concept for someone like him, especially since you first appeared.
it doesn’t matter. however long you take to come back, xiao will wait dutifully for you.
he spends most of his time when you’re not making use of him subjugating threats around liyue and fighting off any unwanted foes. perhaps you’ll come back faster if the area is freer of enemies. you’re kind, after all. you seem much happier when it’s peaceful.
lately, when there’s no demons for him to quell, he’s found himself returning to the same spot on wangshu inn’s upper balcony. it’s the spot you always drop him off at before disappearing. it’s not the place at the top of the inn’s roof he’d pick on his own, though you do sometimes take him up there as well.
you’re not actually there, but if he closes his eyes it almost feels like you are.
his birthday was a couple days ago. as usual, the traveller had suggested he write you a letter. as usual, he wasn’t sure what he could possibly convey to you that you would be happy to receive.
the traveller insisted anything from him would make you happy, but xiao doubts that.
it’s easier when you’re here. it’s easier when you’re here and he can submit himself entirely to you and doesn’t have to think for himself.
he’s been dreaming more lately, particularly of you. he doesn’t know what you look like, and after he wakes up he can never quite remember what you looked like in his dreams.
waking up after dreaming of you is always hard for xiao. it’s shameful how badly he wants to go back to dreaming of doing such mundane things with you, and it’s disgraceful how long it takes him to pick himself back up afterwards.
he wonders if you’d like doing dull things like that with someone like him.
he wonders if he deserves that.
probably not.
he left the letter at the railing of that same—your—spot, along with a serving of his almond tofu (he might not like dreaming, but he hopes your dreams are as sweet as his have been lately), some dream solvent (the traveller had mentioned you seemed to want more) and a small bundle of qixing (you frequently go out of your way to collect it).
you never touch it.
…after a couple days, he decided to move the offering to his room. it stays there, on his windowsill where the sun touches it in a way that reminds him of your warmth, untouched.
it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. he’ll wait for you for as long as you want. even if another thousand years pass before you appear again, he’ll continue his duty and wait.
and then he blinks and suddenly finds himself in front of the adventurer’s guild in the court of fontaine.
another blink and he’s back at wangshu inn, this time heading towards the kitchen. the familiar aura of your possession fills him with a warmth he doesn’t think exists outside of you. he zones out for what feels no longer than a couple seconds, and suddenly there’s thirty servings of almond tofu in front of him.
your mood drops.
dissatisfaction seeps through you and into him. something deep in his gut squirms.
you set a large amount of sweet flowers to boil, then seem to fuss with something he can’t quite see or grasp. smiley yanxiao gives him a curious look, but doesn’t (cannot) comment any further.
in another couple of seconds—your teleportation hardly fazed him when you first started using him, let alone now when he’s so used to your presence—he’s in front of the liyuean general goods store. you buy up the entire stock of milk, and only milk.
your mood hasn’t improved. if anything, you seem even more downcast.
the milk dissipates as soon as it’s been bought, safely held in your near infinite storage.
he’s behind mondstadt’s hotel next, jumping down the railing and towards the local general goods store. again, you buy up all the milk. next you head for the good hunter (is that what it’s called? he thinks that’s what the traveller called it some time ago) and purchase as much of their sugar as you can.
tendrils of something truly unpleasant move upwards and wrap around his neck.
he finds himself in wangshu inn’s kitchen again. barely any of the sweet flowers have been processed, but you take the two packs of sugar anyway. you put him to work immediately.
usually, he finds the process of cooking much to tedious and drawn out. with you, he doesn’t mind.
you seem a bit more satisfied this time, and xiao finds himself ashamed of having made a few more of his specialty dish instead of only regular almond tofu like you’d wanted him to.
while you seem a bit happier now, he still finds himself in front of inazuma’s goods store. again, you buy all the milk. you talk to the restaurant owner up the stairs afterwards. some confusion creeps into him through you, but it doesn’t last long.
he’s in sumeru next. more milk makes its way into your inventory, and you visit the local tavern for good measure, though this time you don’t buy anything at all.
exiting the building, you seem to notice there’s a stove just outside of it and walk over in excitement… and straight into the clay oven.
a sharp pang of panic shoots through him and he jerks backwards. it takes him a second to realise it’s your panic.
immediately, you pull the astrologer from mondstadt out and have her set down her little hydro puppet. you then walk him through it, which does absolutely nothing except soak his clothes.
your panic doesn’t subside.
i’m sorry.
he blinks and finds himself in front of dihua marsh’s statue of the seven, the fire and the tinge it brought with it disappearing in seconds.
it’s rare to be able to make out what you’re actually saying as opposed to just feeling your vague emotions and intentions. are you that worried about him not performing up to standard with this little damage?
he’s yours to use. a little singe like that would never hold him back.
you don’t bother with fontaine.
something like shame curls up his body and makes a home near his ears.
soon after, he’s back at the inn’s kitchen again. yanxiao doesn’t even look in his direction this time as he gets back to work under your guidance, making even more almond tofu. he makes sure to take greater care to avoid displeasing you again.
your mood doesn’t pick up this time, but you seem to have calmed down a little. he’s not sure why (or what use you could possibly have for so much almond tofu), but it’s a small comfort.
part of him wishes he could be there with you properly to comfort you, but he knows better.
he might be your formidable weapon, but that’s all he is. he has no false illusions about his role or purpose to you, no matter how much he wishes he could be the one you turn to for comfort. he isn’t suited to something so delicate. he’s accepted that a long time ago.
your dejection doesn’t retract, even as you move him around a bit more.
then you sit him down at a table at the inn’s terrace and pull out a plate of his specialty.
your presence lingers for a bit, envelops him like a gentle dream, then falls through the cracks of his existence and disappears.
happy birthday, xiao.
he wonders if he deserves this much effort from you for something as inconsequential as his birthday.
probably not.
he hopes he’ll dream of this next.
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thinking about Eddie, who because of the upsidedown was in a coma for effectively the rest of '86. When he woke up he had to re-learn a lot of shit, since even after he could open his eyes and sit up, moving was still hard.
Steve and Robin go with him to all of his PT appointments as he works on moving and standing up, but not walking yet. The therapist overhears him complaining to Steve about how he misses writing, since his hands are too shaky for the words to be legible.
She tells him that if he wants to write better he should practice more, and maybe pick something else up that requires small, repetitive movements, like sewing or crocheting.
Eddie is about to open his mouth to say that sewing might be a good idea, because he can work on putting his old patches onto the new vest that the kids bought him as a "we're glad you're not dead present", when Robin comes back from the bathroom and pipes up that she has some crocheting stuff from when she and Steve tried to learn together a few years back, and that's the end of that conversation.
crocheting is his least favorite part of the night, even if Robin and Steve are patient and let him pick the movie in the background and don't get frustrated when he drops the hook between the couch cushions for the thirtieth time in an hour.
Eventually he gets the hang of it, but--out of spite--refuses to make anything other than a very long line with his yarn, telling Steve and Robin he's going to strangle them with it when he's done, because crocheting "is literally the least metal thing in the world."
He stops threatening to strangle Robin after she makes him a little bat.
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Dream of the Endless does dumb stuff in my fics. Sometimes people point out that he does dumb stuff in my fics. Sometimes I get a little self-conscious about it, because I worry that they think he's OOC or should have acted differently, which is ultimately on me as the writer.
Then I remember that Dream is canonically a moron. Literally. Stated in the text, he's an idiot.
Lucienne's body language is clear. Unity is right but she's too loyal/diplomatic to agree with her aloud.
I could turn this into an entire essay of images and quotes from the comic and show of Dream doing dumb shit, like calling on the Fates before seeking help literally anywhere else. Or how Destruction points out that Dream just deliberately forgets anything that doesn't hold his interest or (implied by extension) agree with his worldview.
Everyone with any brains in "The Sandman" agrees that Dream is very dramatic and very pretty (thanks, Hob) and not the least bit intelligent.
This fact gives me great delight.
And so I shall continue to adhere as close to canon as possible, and continue to make Dream the fucking moron that he truly is. Bless.
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