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itty-bitty-mess · 1 year ago

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TW: BITTYBONES AB//USE, BITTY WHUMP, BITTY T*RT//URE

Pip was a little pygmy lamia and, like almost every individual of his breed, he was quite the ungrateful brat. He had been adopted from the bitty adoption center and then returned by his previous owner who had spoiled him rotten, making him believe he was the most important thing in the world and that everything had to revolve around him. His brattiness had gotten so bad, that his previous owner returned him without a second thought despite the little pygmy’s empty “apologies”, a futile attempt to not lose the luxurious and comfortable lifestyle he had been so accustomed to.

One day, a young woman entered the establishment in looks for a small companion who could add some sort of excitement into her life. Pip’s eyes landed on that woman and he immediately got to work to be as “cute” and “charming” as possible, playing up the “widdle baby” act as much as he could. Trying to charm his way into a new home and back into his beloved comfortable lifestyle. The woman wasn’t entirely convinced on Pip at first, but after a “cute” tantrum full of crying blue tears and puppy dog eyes, she ended up adopting him with a simple shrug.

Pip was over the moon once he arrived to his new home, slithering everywhere, exploring every corner of the small apartment, calling dibs on the places he would soon mark as his property. The woman or, as he began calling her, “Mommy” didnt really seem that bothered by Pip’s behavior. When night arrived, she prepared him a small makeshift bed with an empty shoebox and some tissue paper and socks. Pip straight up refused to sleep in the box, demanding Mommy to let him sleep on her bed instead.

“Eh, im not doing that but if you don’t want the bed then suit yourself” Mommy said with a shrug as she picked up the makeshift bed and put it on the closet. “But I gotta tell you the floor gets really cold at night and I tend to lock my door.” Pip was a little taken aback by her reaction. He had expected her to beg him to sleep on the box, or to comply and let him sleep on her bed. He tried throwing another tantrum, this time trying to be clear about what he wanted.

“WAAAAHH!! BUT MOMMY I DONT WANT A STINKY BOX, I WANNA SLEEP WITH YOU!!!! IM SCARED OF THE DARK!!!!” Pip cried, his fake little tears and screams falling on uncaring, deaf ears.

The woman just shrugged and responded with a “sucks to be you, buddy” and went to her room. Pip followed her and tried slithering as fast as he could to slip into the bedroom before she locked the door but all he managed to do was hit his face straight into the hard metal door. She had entered and immediately locked the door shut, and Pip was way too big to slip through the gap between the door and the floor.

But he wasn’t gonna give up so easily! He started banging on the door nonstop, his tiny gloved hands barely managing to make any noise against the metal door. He tried screaming, directly demanding Mommy to let him in immediately. But what Pip didn’t know was that she was wearing sound proof headphones, allowing her to have a good night’s sleep. He ended up sleeping on the cold, hard floor, trembling and shaking with tears of rage in his eyes. This wasn’t over yet, he was gonna make Mommy’s life a living nightmare and she would have no option but to treat him like the king he was.

From that day onwards, Pip tried almost every trick on the book to make Mommy do what he wanted. He started pissing and pooping on her clothes to “teach her a lesson”, but she simply shrugged and said “Cool, I was gonna throw those old rags away anyways”. Whenever she fed him “cheap and disgusting” Bitty Kibble, he would throw the little food bowl back at her but his aim was so pathetic that he barely managed to flip the bowl. He tried stealing her food which only caused him severe food poisoning because the idiot stole and ate a moldy piece of bread that was many years past its expiration date.

He demanded Mommy to buy him a control remote car and other expensive toys but she just threw a crumpled paper ball on his direction as said “There, play with that instead lol”. He threw constant tantrums but she completely ignored him or just didn’t seem to care enough. Even when he had planned on scratching or biting her, his pathetic and useless little fangs and his weak little “claws” did absolutely no damage

He even tried stealing Mommy’s phone and trying to break up with her boyfriend through text. However, the boyfriend could tell that wasn’t how his girlfriend texted, he could tell that it was Pip by the terrible grammar and childish word usage so he sent Pip graphic images of bitty gore which deeply traumatised him. He told Mommy about this, hoping that maybe she would craddle him on her arms to comfort him but all she did was laugh at him. Pip felt humiliated, he couldnt believe she didn’t even comfort him or tried to pamper him after such a horrible thing!

Tears welled up in his little eyes and he went to the corner to fake cry again, looking behind his back every few minutes hoping to see Mommy looking back at him with a guilty expression, but all he saw was she had left for work again. This wasn’t fair! How could Mommy not care about him! He was Pip, the great and magnificet pygmy! The most specialest lamia of all, who deserved all the love and attention in the world!

Pip suddenly got an idea, he was gonna go to Mommy’s workplace and demand her, in front of everyone, to give him what he wanted, like fancy human food, expensive toys, a shiny new bandana and to let him sleep on her bed! Mommy could sleep on the floor if she wanted! Perhaps he could even make up some lies about him being “abused” and “neglected” to ruin her reputation with her colleagues. Yes! That was a great idea! Mommy would surely listen to him if he isolated her from everyone! Pip was sooooo smart!

Pip spent the entire night planning how he would take his plan into action. The next day, when Mommy left for work once again, he swiftly slipped through the closing gap of the door, trying to no be seen by her. Then, he silently slipped into her car and hid there, standing as still and silent as possible while she drove. Then she finally arrived to her workplace and entered the huge, shiny office building. Oh, this was Pip’s chance! This was gonna be so good!

He got off the car and slithered around, following silently behind Mommy, he was waiting for the perfect oportunity to strike and humiliate her. However, as they entered the building, Pip was immediately greeted with a massive crowd of people walking in all directions like busy bees in a hive. It was overwhelming and loud for the little lamia and, in a moment of disorientation, he lost sight of Mommy!

He panicked and looked in all directions, slithering through the squeaky clean, polished floor and trying his best to dodge the passerby. He tried screaming and calling out to Mommy, surely she would hear him and go to his rescue! Mommy would never abandon such an important lamia like Pip! Surely Mommy would show up and sweep the little lamia in her arms and take him to a warm and cozy bed full of toys and yummy food like he deserved!

However, his squeaky little yells were drowned out by the constant noise of the office building. People calling out each other’s names, machines working and beeping nonstop, loud clicking of keyboards, etc. All louder than Pip’s weak little voice. Pip tried moving through the crowd, and soon he spotted a stranger who had stopped walking to watch their phone. He got an idea and tried making a “cute” teary eyed expression as he approached the stranger, knowing that his cuteness would be enough to capture the stranger’s attention and get them to help him.

“UM.. EXCUSE ME, IM WOST AND TOO WIDDLE TO MOVE THROUGH THIS CWOWD. CAN YOU HELP ME FIND MY MOMMY PWEASE?” Pip said, pouting and about to start fake crying again. But the stranger didnt seem to hear him. Instead, they started to walk back to their office.

“WH- UM, EXCUSE ME?? HELLO??? DID YOU EVEN HEAR ME???? IM A WIDDLE LAMIA AND I NEED HELP!!! ARE YOU DEAF?? HEWWO!!!” Pip yelled, the baby act completely dropped as he was ignored. He was extremely angry so he raised his voice, damaging his throat a little but continuing regardless. “I AM PIP, THE GREATEST AND MOST IMPORTANT PYGMY IN THE WORLD!! HOW CAN YOU NOT HEAR-“

And then another person immediately walked by and “unintentionally” kicked Pip on the rib, breaking it and sending him flying all the way across the lobby, making him hit his head against the marble floor. Pip laid there against the wall, in too much pain and complete shock, trying to process what had happened. Never in his life had Pip gotten harmed before, his previous owner was always so careful and caring, making sure he was always safe and protected. He had never known pain until that moment.

Little blue tears fell from Pip’s eyes, the difference this time was that they were genuine and not fake. He wanted to go back to his first home, where his owner gave him a whole human king-sized bed just for him. Where Pip could cheerfully slither across the long table full of all kinds of delicious food and pick what he wanted whenever he wanted. Where Pip had an entire miniature theme park just for him to play in. He regretted being so ungrateful, he regretted pissing and pooping everywhere to get his previous owner’s attention, he regretted rippin apart his previous owner’s nice chairs and couches whenever he threw a tantrum, he regretted interrupting others and yelling and manipulating his previous owner to get his way, he regretted insulting his previous owner multiple times and calling them horrible things.

Pip started crying, sobbing even. He regretted everything he did and how much of an unbearable brat he had been. He wanted his comfortable life back. He wanted to feel pampered and like the center of everything again. He tried screaming, calling out to Mommy again, he desperately needed her to hold him or at least pat his back or something. But nothing happened. So despite the pain of his now cracked skull and broken rib, Pip pushed himself up and tried slithering around again. Calling out to Mommy and crying non stop, not caring about the ammount of snot that now dripped from his nose cavity.

As he slithered around, Pip didn’t watch where he was going and another person walked by and harmed him. This time, they stepped on his tail, causing the internal tail bone to shatter and the ecto-flesh to rip open, beginning to bleed. Pip let out a loud, ear piercing scream, hugging his tail in pain as he curled up into a fetal position. Then another person walked by and kicked Pip once again, the force of the kick itself caused another couple of ribs to break. Pip could not stop screaming, the pain was too unbearable for him.

Even with his damaged tail, Pip tried dragging his body across the floor, trying to escape the crowd. But another pair of seemingly giant feet crushed his little arms. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”. He screeched, but the person responsible for it kept walking as if nothing had happened. He tried using his body and his tail to push himself forward but another couple of people walked by, kicking him around between them as if he was a pingpong ball. Every time he tried getting out of the crowd, people would suddenly walk by and either step on him or kick him back to the center of it all. Tears fell from his eyes as he recieved another kick, then another, and so on.

He cried, he screamed, he yelled as loud as he could. Maybe if he was loud enough, people would realize he was there and maybe even help him. But no, nobody cared and they continued on with their day. Now, compared to the treatment he was used to, Pip felt insignificant. He was no longer “The Great and Amazing Pip, The Specialest Pygmy Of The Entire World!”, he was just a worthless little thing, lost in an office building, getting kicked around as if he was nothing but trash.

Finally, Pip caught a glimpse of Mommy in the distance, she was talking with another woman as she held a cup of coffee and a clipboard. Tears of joy formed on Pip’s eyes. Maybe this nightmare would finally be over! Maybe if he screamed loud enough, Mommy would recognize his voice and immediately go to his rescue!

With anticipation and hope in his eyes, Pip took a huge chunk of air and prepared to let out the yell of his life. But life had other plans as a woman walked in. She was wearing tall heels, clicking and clacking against the floor. Without a care in the world, she walked by and interrupted Pip mid-yell as she stepped on his spine. Pip felt the sharpest and strongest pain of his life coursing through his entire body. He wanted to screech in pain but he couldn’t, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t scream, he couldn’t move the lower half of his body…

Tears fell from his eyes, panic surged through his body as he saw Mommy about to ride the elevator. He used his broken arms and tried dragging himself in her direction with all the strength he had left despite the immense, agonizing pain he felt.

“MoMmy- Mo- ahk! moMmy! hElp mE! It hUrtS.. HURTS! HELP! MO-“ but Pip couldn’t even finish his sentence as a floor scrubber passed by. Polishing and sweeping the floor and picking up Pip along the way. The little pygmy was trapped alongside the dust and trash. Pip could feel everything despite being unable to move. He felt his tiny little body being ripped apart and crushed piece by piece. His arms were first, then his tail, then finally his torso and head detached and nothing but dusty, bloody remains mixed with garbage and dirt were left.

When Mommy returned home that afternoon, she didn’t seem surprised that Pip was nowhere to be found. Instead of panicking or worrying, Mommy just shrugged and started to put away the groceries. Maybe Pip had slipped out and died as he fell from the window, or a stray cat got inside and ripped him apart. Whatever had happened to Pip, Mommy didn’t really care, she had better things to do and she had already been considering returning Pip back to the adoption center anyways.

And so, with another bitty gone, life on the big city continued, for nobody would care about an insignificant and worthless little bitty.

The End.

#bitty abuse #bitty bullying #bitty torture #bitty whump #bittybones #baby blue #blueberry #pygmy lamia #lamiatale #blueberry sans #pygmy #OOF THIS ONES LONG

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hypostatic-oath · 1 year ago

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Tales Of Meropide

SAGAU!Tartaglia-centered, angst with some comfort.

Warnings: Swearing. I think it's just one but I'm not entirely sure. Written before 4.2, but finished after 4.1 - contains spoilers for the released story quest so far.

_________________

Childe had never once in his life assumed jail would be fun. He had no delusions in that regard. But he had to admit, his hopes were raised once he heard of the Pankration Ring in the Fortress of Meropide. A competition ring for those who had "extra energy" they wished to "burn out" through regular sparring matches? Sign him up!

His hopes were very quickly shattered once he was told that no, a Fatui Harbinger was not allowed to compete, because "no way anyone would sign up to fight him" and "even if he did fight with one hand behind his back, that would set the bar too high for the other matches, and the spectators would be bored." Damn it - so the ring wasn't truly for fight afficionados - it was a marketing ploy! The fight itself wasn't the focus, it was the fact that it had to look good for an audience.

Childe huffed as he sat in the bed he'd taken to occupying. Fontaine was getting on his nerves - it seemed as though everything was for show, and very little was actually real. Where were the Traveler or the Overseer when one needed them?! Oh, what he wouldn't do to fight against a decent opponent!

His boredom was made worse by the fact that the Overseer - damn them and their excuse of "immersion" - had decided to bench him until he was out of prison. So now he rusted away in the Fortress of Meropide, with no one to fight, no one to banter with...

He could try the Duke again, he figured. While at first things hadn't gone his way, after explaining his issue, Wriothesley had, once or twice, been amenable to a sparring match, and it was the one thing keeping Tartaglia remotely sane. But lately the warden had been more and more busy - and less and less inclined to indulge the restless Harbinger. Were it not for the fact that he already had an escape plan in the works, Childe was sure he would have lost his mind for real. He was getting rusty. Every day that he did not raise his weapon was one day he grew weaker, and that the competition grew stronger. And he knew he had competition, both among the Fatui - how he was the Eleventh of a group of nine still eluded him - and among the other vessels.

It had hurt, the knowledge that right after his banner would come that of the Iudex who'd promptly knocked him out and sent him to jail... and that he wasn't even there to fight him about it! He hadn't been aware of the sheer strength of Fontaine's Chief Justice, but now that he'd caught a glimpse, Childe had to admit he was intrigued. And by intrigued let it be absolutely clear that what he meant was "eager to fight him again". Hell, the judge had managed to knock him out while he was using Foul Legacy! What else was this Neuvillette guy capable of? And, more importantly... had you noticed?

It was a thought Ajax didn't like to have. One he'd been trying to drown out - hah! Drown! Now that his hydro Vision was gone, and Neuvillette was out there using hydro as he pleased - since he'd first been told he wouldn't be able to fight down here. And yet, now that the Fortress had quieted down for the night, there was no sound to overpower his own thoughts.

The thoughts of being replaced. The thoughts that told him he was no longer enough. He was growing weaker, even before being arrested. His Vision had failed him. And now, how convenient - an insanely strong Hydro user was available. It didn't matter whether or not you'd pulled on Childe's banner earlier - he knew you needed strong members on your team, and at this rate he'd be no match for Neuvillette. Not in a fight, and not in your team. What was he supposed to do without it?! The worst of all was the nagging feeling that you'd grown used to not having him with you already. He'd been imprisoned for a while now, and not a peep from you. Not for the Abyss, not for Ley Lines, not for Domains, not even for Commissions.

He missed it.

He missed you.

Childe laid down on the bed - which was only slightly less uncomfortable than the slab of rock he used to sleep on during hos months in the Abyss - and turned to face the brass wall, his fingers absentmindedly tracing along his Delusion.

If only he could use it while you were taking hold of him - if only he could use his Foul Legacy transformation, too. He had developed (and tested) the theory that due to your influence, these things would have almost to no toll on his body. That was, apparently, part of the unspoken contract between an Overseer and their Vessels - not only would they become stronger, but their injuries and exhaustion would be your responsibility instead of theirs. For Childe, it was the perfect deal, lending you control of his body to fight all kinds of opponents and having his strength increase a hundredfold. Except for the part that, try as he might - and most importantly, try as you might - it was impossible for him to use his Delusion, or his Foul Legacy transformation, or, much to your chagrin, his signature "whale toss".

Ah, yes. That had been another issue.

Ever since he'd gotten to the Fortress, he'd seen it.

In dreams, in flashes during the day, hell, he was even hearing it, its song echoing through the brass walls. And yet, no one else seemed to be able to. That in itself was a sign - this was indeed the one he'd roused from slumber... and it was beckoning him to answer its calls.

He closed his eyes. Perhaps tonight's dream would provide more insight. He'd seek it out as soon as he managed to leave, he just had to wait for a pipe cleaning day in order to make his escape. For now, though, all he could do was wait, as time passed agonizingly slow. And so, lulled by boredom and whalesong, he forced himself to sleep it off.

_________

You were getting impatient.

You'd decided to give storyline immersion a try once Childe was arrested, thinking that it'd be pretty weird for the recently arrested Harbinger to be roaming the streets of Fontaine - and you'd been doing a lot of roaming recently, having a whole new nation to explore. By now, you were aware that your game was responsive to you, and that had been a big reason why you'd made that decision, knowing that they were aware of what you did. You did not want to stir up trouble with Neuvillette or Wriothesley... not when they hadn't come home yet. It was best to play to their interests a little bit. However... this was getting ridiculous.

"We're gonna have to break him out at this rate." You huffed, as you picked up yet another Romaritime flower. As usual, the members of your party who hadn't been so used to you seemed a little startled at hearing your voice, while the Traveler and Paimon were far more relaxed. You supposed it made sense - if a disembodied voice started talking about jailbreak out of nowhere, you'd probably be pretty spooked too.

"But, Overseer..." Paimon began. "If we break him out of jail, won't people notice he's missing? And you still want to get Monsieur Neuvillette as soon as his banner drops - are you sure we should interfere with justice right now?"

"Neuvillette will come whether he likes it or not." You said, a steely determination in your voice. You'd meant nothing threatening by it, only that he was guaranteed and near pity, but it still sent a chill down the most inexperienced members of your team's spines. "Besides, I'm pretty sure that's what the next Archon Quest will be - break Childe out of jail. He's gonna come home with us, and everything will be okay. So it shouldn't really matter... if we give him a taste of freedom early, now does it?"

"I suppose it's alright." The Traveler chimed in. They were still the vessel who was more in tune with your emotions after all these years together, and thst could be both a blessing and a curse. Now, what they felt was your eagerness to see Childe again... and concern.

You were worried about him.

With a few clicks, you opened the map. Were it anyone else, you would've teleported to somewhere nice. Maybe Angel's Share, or Liuli Pavilion, or any of the many other restaurants and cafés that dotted the regions of Teyvat that had opened themselves to you.

But you knew that after being stuck for so long, your Tartaglia would need something more than a simple apology meal.

__________

The Golden house. Of course his dreams would take him there - he'd fallen asleep to thoughts of you. It was a respite from the other ones, but pleasant as dreams of fighting may be, they had about the same effect as dreams of a feast to a starving man. No matter how much he fought, he'd still wake up feeling empty.

"What's the matter with you? No 'Surrender is a valid option' today?" Your voice rang out. Oh, yeah. He'd forgotten his usual taunt... did it matter, in a dream? Apparently it did, because you'd commented on it. Still, he wasn't sure if he felt like going along with it. Why would it matter? It wasn't real. He'd likely never see you again, and his stupid dream was only making things worse.

"You seem out of it. Childe." The Traveler stood before him as you spoke, their weapon lowered but still unsheated. "Maybe prison put you in a worse shape than I thought... oh, I'm going to kill them. I don't care. Traveler, we're going to take this man out of there."

"Paimon's pretty sure that's illegal..."

"Illegal? Look at what they've done to him! They massacred my boy! He has no will to live!"

Tartaglia watched as you spoke with the Traveler and Paimon. It wasn't often that he got to witness such direct interactions, and he had to admit, it was a little bit funny seeing the blonde outlander and his companion arguing with the air. They usually faced the direction opposite of where Paimon hovered - mostly so the poor guide didn't feel like they were arguing with her instead - but it still looked as though the Traveler were speaking to absolutely nothing.

Even though he was sure this was a dream - of course it was, after all, you bringing him for a fight now, and within a few seconds immediately deciding to break him out and go on a murder spree for his sake? Tartaglia could recognize his own wishful thinking - the image brought a smile to his face.

"What have they done to you?" You asked, addressing him directly once more. "How bad is it? Are you eating enough? Are you eating at all? Are you sick? Bastards..."

Concern. He could almost feel your warmth. He had to remind himself that it wasn't real. He had to remind himself that, in the real world, in the waking world, he was still in bed. That you, powerful entity that you were, could pull him out any time, and yet you hadn't.

He'd started thinking this was just like last time. Just like in the Abyss.

At first, he'd wanted his parents to come looking for him. He'd wanted them to notice he was gone, and many a night had he dreamt of them finding him. Then came his master, and with her, he held even less delusions that she'd come to his aid. And then, he'd joined the Fatui, and there it was set in stone that comrades as they may be, there'd be no help whatsoever, so he might as well give up hope.

He still dreamt it, sometimes. That someday there'd be someone to reach out a hand, someone who'd give him a bright smile when he was at his worst and help him stand, so they could take on the world together. He still dreamt that for once, just once, someone would care enough to help.

But nobody came.

He needed to be strong. He loved being strong, he loved fighting. Which was a good thing, he'd many times surmised, since it was the only thing the world needed him to do. You win the fight, you live. That was that, and it was all it had ever been and all it ever would be.

There'd be no parents looking for him. No Skirk coming in at the last minute to parry the blow. No comrades to call upon. No Overseer willing to go on a murder spree to take him out of jail.

The truth, the cold truth, was nothing like the warm dreams where someone came to his aid. The truth was that once again, he'd have to break out alone.

All he could do for now was enjoy the opportunity to fight "you", even if just in a dream, so he took a deep, shaky breath, and got ready to spar.

_________

You wondered if he knew he was crying.

It didn't last too long. You quickly opted out of the Golden House - you'd clearly overestimated his will to fight. Even as he stood at the ready, you could see the changes in his demeanor. Maybe you should've gone with Angel's Share after all.

You emptied your party - save for the Traveler - and placed Childe on one of the empty slots. Then, you quickly teleported the three of them (because the Traveler always counted as two, with Paimon beside them all the time) to your teapot. It was clear Childe needed more than just an apology fight.

"Traveler, do me a favor." You asked, once the loading screen was out of the way. "Could you get some food started, please?"

That should give you a little alone time with the Harbinger. Maybe it'd be easier, you figured, to coax information on his wellbeing if you were alone.

As the Traveller nodded and went to handle the cooking at a nearby stove, you switched to Tartaglia. It was a little odd now, controlling them when you knew they were aware of your existence. The vast majority didn't seem to mind, and you took some comfort in how responsive and talkative they were - at least you weren't some malevolent, brainwashing eldritch entity. Your characters - erm, Vessels, as they preferred to call it - seemed fine.

Childe, however, didn't.

"Hey. Ajax." You made sure to keep your voice softer than usual as you guided him towards the hot springs, sitting him down. "I'm sorry. I genuinely thought we'd get to break you out sooner."

For a while, he didn't answer.

You placed the cursor over his shoulder. By now, you knew they could feel a sort of phantom touch, and it was the closest thing you could do to offer a comforting hand.

"Whatever they did to you ends now. I'm hereby overruling your sentence. You're staying here while I'm logged off until the Traveler and I resolve this, and when I'm around, you're back on the team."

You could see Childe trying to look at you, so you did him the favor of turning the camera in such a way that it looked as though you were sitting beside him.

"Over here."

He couldn't see your expression, but you still hoped he could somehow hear the way you felt through your voice. Oh, how you wanted to be able to reach him.

Tartaglia looked in the vague direction of you, and you wished you had a way to cup his cheek and wipe away the tears threatening to spill from those lifeless eyes. You moved the cursor to rest over his pinky finger - this was the closest thing you could do to a pinky promise, after all.

"It's over, Ajax. It's done. Canon can go fuck itself. If they want to put you back in jail they're gonna have to go through me first."

__________

Ajax had wished you were physically in Teyvat many times. Most of these times were because he wished to fight you personally, some because he wished to share some food with you. This time, feeling the unmistakable warmth of your phantom touch slide from his shoulder to his hand, before focusing on his pinky as you promised to fight for him, he wished he could pull you into the tightest embrace. What a cruel dream - couldn't his mind have dreamt you a physical body, too? One he could hold on to. One he could curl up around.

He felt your touch on his back, soothing circles of warmth rhytmically rubbed, and he would've leaned into your touch if he had any idea of which direction to lean into.

"I have an escape route planned already." He sighed. "And a few other things I need to handle, too."

"Still." You insisted. "You look terrible. No offense."

"I'm f-"

"You're not fine, Ajax. I'm not an idiot. Look, the teapot has a place for you whenever you'd like. You have the Sigil of Permission, and I'll make sure to leave an empty room, so you can come and go whenever. So you at least get food, drink, a place to sleep... I'm pretty sure that with the Shogun around you'll always have someone to spar with, too, that should keep you from boredom-"

The Sigil of Permission.

Of course.

How could he have forgotten?

A dream as this may be - and he was start to suspect it wasn't, due to the unmistakable feeling of your energy seeping into his own and, perhaps a more obvious sign, how his clothes felt against his body due to being in the hot springs fully clothed (perhaps Overseers had no concept of clothing, and you refused to remove it because you considered his outfit a part of his skin? He'd heard you refer to the Tianquan's new outfit as a "new skin" once, after all...), the water making them heavier - it had still provided him something that could help him once he woke. The Traveler had once bestowed him with a sigil of permission that granted him access to your Serenitea Pot - a sigil of permission that was still in his possession.

Childe could feel a spark of hope inside his chest, the corners of his lips curving in a discreet yet confident smile.

He'd definitely take you up on that offer later.

"That's more like it!" You sounded relieved. And, as it usually was for Vessels when you were pouring your energy into them, your energy felt relieved as well, your emotions bleeding through into his body. All that, just for a small smile? Tartaglia smiled wider, in the general direction of where you should be, and the feeling increased.

He felt that familiar sensation of your focus on his hair, and found himself thinking that maybe, if you were there beside him, you would've ran your fingers through it, and maybe he'd lean closer, perhaps to rest his head on your shoulder or your lap.

Archons, what was happening to him? He wasn't supposed to let himself go like this. This wasn't a dream at all, he couldn't simply indulge as though it were. He had to stop leaning into your phantom touch, he had to stop hoping. This sort of hope, this sort of weakness, it'd kill him. He needed to-

"What you need is rest. And to be comfortable. And to let me and the Traveler take care of you." Your voice brought him out of his spiraling train of thought. Oh, right. He'd forgotten that lately you'd gotten better at hearing their thoughts. A trick you'd picked up in Sumeru, no doubt. He sighed.

"That... would be nice. Thank you, comrade. But you really don't need-"

"I don't. But I want to, so I will. So come on, let's get you fed while I redecorate the teapot again. It was bound for a change sooner or later, anyway."

#oof this one got LONG #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin au #genshin impact sagau #sagau tartaglia #sagau childe #i made myself sad with this one ngl #also if yall haven't listened to Say Don't go (TV) I recommend it so much #it's so good for writing angst to #sagau overseer

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