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Environments with the highest competition beget the most dangerous species. Avidya Rainforest, teeming with life, is a prime example. Besides obvious threats to humanity, like Rishboland tigers and spinocrocodiles… The flora and fungi are fascinating. While the plants that grow in Tataratsuna’s electro-charged depths and on Natlan’s lava fields show one kind of resilience, it’s an equal feat to have survived evolutionary conflict with every other living, changing thing in the rainforest. A never-ending race—truly, there is no other research opportunity like this in Teyvat.
Tighnari supposes that the wanderers caught in the crossfire don’t see it that way, though.
“Where are you hurt?” he asks the last caravan member, who hasn’t moved since they rolled the sumpter beast off his legs. Thankfully, he’s breathing, but something must have broken after being crushed by that much weight.
“Shins,” the man manages, and yes, Tighnari can see the bloodstain. They’re probably both broken. He takes out a knife and starts cutting the trader’s pants off at the knee.
“What startled the sumpter beast?” Tighnari asks the woman who’d flagged them down as he carefully peels the fabric off the injury. Compound fracture in the left leg, as he’d guessed seeing the lump and spreading blood in the fabric. Mostly, he asks to keep her from panicking, but it’s also good to know to see if they can move it away from the road. The other shin, as he unwraps it, doesn’t have any obvious jutting bone, but the skin is dark with bruise. Likely a comminuted fracture, but since it’s closed there’s no way to tell for sure. This isn’t something they can treat in Gandharva Ville.
“I don’t know, the hitchhiker was leading Dasri—the sumpter beast—into a cave for the night while we set up a fire,” she answers quickly, hands clutched to her chest. “Then Dasri just came barreling out!” Nasrin has given her a clean bill of health and is helping Collei evaluate the other man, but Tighnari can already tell he’s uninjured. If he wasn’t in the cave and didn’t get crushed by the sumpter beast, there’s nothing to have hurt him.
“Hitchhiker? Is that this man?” Tighnari asks, a little surprised because they’re all dressed the same, like traders. He glances up from checking the man’s ankles (one broken, one intact) to make sure he’s remembering right. The woman shakes her head.
“Just a wanderer we picked up. He’s still in the cave. He has an Anemo vision, I’m sure he’s alright,” she began, and Tighnari curses.
“Collei, take this woman to Gandharva Ville, and come back with Shirin and a stretcher. Nasrin, finish this checkup for me and wait for Collei to get back. No one is to go off on their own, do you understand me?”
The woman nods fearfully, and the other healthy trader wearily. “Yes, Master,” Collei says, as Tighnari stands up and Nasrin moves to take his place.
“I’m going to find him. It shouldn’t take long, but if I’m not back by mid-morning tomorrow, send a search party.” People expect too much of Vision-bearers. For all he knew, this “wanderer” used it exclusively to reach tall shelves and that cave had a Regisvine. He starts climbing the slope before Nasrin can say, “Good luck.”
The cave isn’t shallow, and Tighnari has to consciously slow himself down to avoid charging blindly in. He has his bow in one hand and an arrow in the other, and his ears twitch as he strains every sense for signs of danger. It doesn’t take long for him to hear a quiet groan and hiss.
He slings his bow over his back and puts the arrow back in his quiver, and follows the sound to a lump of clothing on the floor. There’s a pungent scent in the air, an unfamiliar one, and Tighnari is wary of exposing either of them to it for long.
“I’m going to move you to a safer location. Just lay still,” he instructs, finding the man’s head. His eyes are screwed shut, apparently in pain, and he’s breathing fast. There’s a large hat that’s been knocked away. His face is pale. Tighnari finds the man’s shirt collar in the dark, tugs it up to cradle the back of his head in case of a neck or spine injury, and drags him back over the rock until they’re in the entrance of the cave. The man doesn’t put up any fight, just groans intermittently. Tighnari wonders if he’s lucid enough to know what’s going on.
In the fading light, Tighnari can see that the wanderer is Inazuman, with a delicate-looking face and short indigo hair. He doesn’t look injured, but his skin is flushed and he’s just laying limp where Tighnari set him down. He can’t find a pulse in his neck to see if it’s steady. “Hey, are you awake? Can you answer me?”
His eyes crack open just as Tighnari is about to try shaking him. “Good. I’m Forest Ranger Tighnari, I’m here to help. Do you know what happened?”
The wanderer lets out a breathless sound of disagreement, and to Tighnari’s horror, starts sitting up. “Hey! Lay back down, we don’t know if moving will aggravate your condition.”
He’s totally ignored. Tighnari catches him, considers the risks of him hitting the ground too hard, and pulls his head into his lap. It’s harder than he thought it would be—the man is denser than he looks, but eventually he goes down. Immediately, he squeezes his eyes shut and starts curling up on himself.
Great. Now Tighnari is sitting alone in the woods with a sick or injured stranger’s head in his lap. “If you can speak, say something.”
After a short pause, “I can,” he manages without opening his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, maybe from exertion.
“Good, that makes this much easier. How do you feel?”
The wanderer swallows. “Bad,” he admits.
“How so? Describe it for me, and try not to leave anything out.” Tighnari is a Forest Watcher, not a doctor, and it’s been years since he was taking medicine classes in Amurta. If it’s something uncommon, he worries he won’t be able to recognize it. Already he’s running through the visible symptoms, but unable to draw any conclusions.
“Hot,” the wanderer tells him. Tighnari can feel his jaw working against his thigh. “Mostly hot. I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Tighnari sighs, brushing the stranger’s bangs out of his face and feeling for a temperature. Predictably, he’s burning up, but almost as concerning is the way the wanderer twitches when he touches him. One big shudder all over before falling still again, forcing his breathing to stay regular, though of course Tighnari can hear the difference. “Flushed face and neck, tense muscles, quickened breathing, and an exaggerated response to touch. Do you have any preexisting conditions that could cause those symptoms?”
“No. What are you, a scientist?” the wanderer bites up at him instead of telling him anything more. Tighnari looks down, refusing to feel silly or self-conscious about having a stranger’s head in his lap.
“As a matter of fact, yes, I am a scientist,” he says, and then when the wanderer’s breathing stops in fear, adds like he was going to say it all along, “A botanist, though. Humans like you aren’t my area of expertise, which is why I need you to cooperate.” It succeeds in coaxing his guard down, though it also makes him cackle shortly. Tighnari’s ear twitches in annoyance. “Yes, very funny while I’m trying to tell if your life needs saving. There are plants in this forest that can cause heatstroke or poison you with just a touch, you know. Who’s the Grand Sage of the Akademiya right now?”
“What- there isn’t one.”
Sure, close enough. “Tell me where you are and how you got here.”
“In the Sumeru rainforest, outside the fucking flower cave I was trying to put the stupid sumpter beast in. You almost pulled my clothes off dragging me out.” He’s squirming a little in agitation, starting to curl up on himself again.
“You saw flowers inside the cave? What did they look like?” Tighnari demands suddenly. He’d almost taken it for granted that the wanderer hadn’t seen whatever caused his symptoms, but Tighnari’s much better at identifying plants than illnesses.
“Uh, pink. And round. They were hanging from the wall and ceiling. I tried to blow them out of the way, and yellow dust swirled with my Anemo. Then the sumpter beast ran.” The wanderer gets it out around increasingly heavy breathing, pushing his cheek further into Tighnari’s thigh almost unconsciously. Little alarm bells start tinkling in Tighnari’s mind.
“Were they sphere-shaped and bright pink, smaller than your palm, hanging in clusters from leafy vines?”
The wanderer doesn’t even stop his nuzzling to look up at him, the hand that had been laying over his stomach fisted around the waistband of his shorts. Not pulling them down, thankfully, but almost as unfortunately pulling them taut and showing off a pronounced cameltoe as he twitches unsubtly against the fabric. “Listen to me, wanderer. Were the flowers you saw hanging in clusters on leafy vines?”
“Hm, yeah,” the wanderer agrees.
“Not on woody vines?” Tighnari asks, though with a sinking heart he’s already trying to ease the wanderer’s head off his lap. He won’t be able to treat him from here.
“No, there was,” the wanderer blurts out, though he has to stop and swallow halfway through, “Lots of leaves. Archons-dammit, why are you asking me this?”
Tighnari manages to crawl out from under him, and is left kneeling over an overheated stranger rutting into his own underwear who might die if he doesn’t sweat it out fast enough. He wouldn’t be a Forest Watcher if he didn’t love nature, but large doses of venerem pollinis has effects on humanoids he could do without. “I need to you to listen to me. Stop what you’re doing and listen for just a minute, I need you to have a clear head.”
The wanderer doesn’t stop, but growls “What?” and Tighnari takes that to mean he’s paying attention.
“That plant‘s defense mechanism,” he starts, and stops when the wanderer’s eyes slide off his face. Tighnari grabs his glossy blue-black hair and turns his head back towards him. “You have three options. Wait to get better and probably die. Let me take you to the river and maybe die. Let me get you off and probably not die, but I can’t guarantee it. We need to either cool you down to wait it out or get it over with fast. Tell me your options, repeat them to me.” He adjusts his grip a little and the wanderer lets out a needy moan.
“Wait it out, take me to the river, fuck me,” he says dutifully, staring at Tighnari’s mouth. He licks his lips self-consciously and the wanderer’s hips jerk up particularly hard.
“Which one?”
“Fuck me,” the wanderer says immediately, letting go of his shorts to grab Tighnari’s collar and yank him down with shocking strength. Tighnari’s hand catches in his hair as he crashes face-first into his new patient, narrowly avoiding breaking his nose on the other’s forehead. The wanderer, unperturbed, bites at Tighnari’s cheek almost hard enough to draw blood.
Fuck, there’s no moderating kinks under the effects of sex pollen, is there. Tighnari hopes fervently that this wanderer has more of a thing for biting than he does for sadism in general, though maybe he shouldn’t jinx himself with how his luck has been going today. He pulls away, cheek stinging, and holds the wanderer down so he can’t follow. “Still,” he growls, and miraculously, it works.
Mostly, at least. His hips are still humping adamantly against nothing, even as Tighnari pulls his shorts and briefs down in one go. Sticky translucent strings snap over blushing pink labia. The wanderer kicks his clothes the rest of the way off with enough force you’d think they’d somehow offended him.
“Fuck me,” the wanderer orders, and Tighnari’s ears flick back. He doesn’t appreciate being ordered around, but can’t delay any longer. He settles for shoving the man’s legs open and raking two fingers over his cunt, harsh and without mind to his own sharp nails. Aren’t most sadists masochists too, anyways? It certainly coaxes this sadist into arching his back, pushing into the touch with a gasp. Without hesitation, he finds the little nub at the top of his vulva—it’s been awhile, but he knows he’s still got it when the wanderer’s breath stutters and he rocks down so hard one foot nearly slips out from under him.
“Restraints, yes or no?” Tighnari asks, and is surprised to find his voice a little breathless, too. The wanderer nods his head emphatically.
“Yes, yes, fuck yes tie me up,” he pants, and Tighnari is already pushing his legs where he wants them and fastening them tight to the ground with green—woody—vines. Forced into exposure, his cunt shines with fluid, and Tighnari dives in face first.
He tastes like nothing, not even salt. It strikes Tighnari as odd, but he doesn’t let it distract him. He laves his tongue from the thin skin under his hole up through his folds, up to the little red bud of his clit. He settles onto the cave floor, hands running absently from the wanderer’s hips up and down his thighs as he sucks his clit out from under the hood. Wet sounds like an open-mouthed kiss echo around them, accompanied by breathy gasps and eventually, the rustling of Tighnari’s clothes as he rocks gently back and forth. It gives his ministrations a pleasant rhythm, to press his face in close to suck and kiss, and then pull back to lap at his folds and let spit and slick dribble down his chin. And of course, it helps him resist reaching down and touching himself as he eats out this stranger.
The wanderer, however, doesn’t need to move. It’s making Tighnari’s work harder, so as he flicks the tip of his tongue over his clit Tighnari sends a sturdy vine around the wanderer’s hips, holding him more firmly in place. He can still rock a little—Tighnari’s bindings would have to be much more thorough to prevent even that minute movement—but he can’t press himself into Tighnari’s face or grind over his mouth anymore, and that’s enough. Tighnari’s nails dig into the crease where wanderer’s thigh meets his hip, holding on tight as he sucks flushed labia away from his hole, dipping his tongue between them and chasing the spots that make the wanderer groan and strain.
He settles at the top of his cunt, tonguing at the root of his clit as one hand reaches up to cup the rest of him. Two fingers slide over his soaked hole, teasing the sensitive fluttering rim—the wanderer gasps and yanks Tighnari’s head back by one ear. “Fuck, fuck you, inside,” he pants, while Tighnari glares and catches his breath. A second later, vines pull his patient’s hands away.
“Don’t touch me.” Tighnari stills as that insatiable fire fills the wanderer’s system once again. Tighnari is perfectly capable of waiting, especially with his cock so comfortably nestled against his hip, and he holds the wanderer’s indigo gaze until he glances away.
“I- I’m sorry. Fuck me, please,” he chokes out, cheeks red and hands fisted in their restraints. Tighnari frowns, then sits up. His fingers leave the wanderer’s hole, instead cupping his whole cunt in his palm and stroking gently over it with his thumb. “See? See, you’re hard, you know you want to please just-“
“Don’t try to manipulate me, either. I’ll go at a pace that won’t let you get hurt,” he assures, and to follow through on that promise begins to move again. He slides his fingers through the wanderer’s folds, deliciously slick, and grinds the heel of his palm gently over his clit. With his fingers inside, though, he curls harshly against the man’s g-spot, tearing moans from his mouth. “There you go, isn’t that easy,” Tighnari murmurs, his other hand cradling his trembling thigh as he works him over. “I’ll take care of you.”
The wanderer’s moans get louder, and his legs shake harder—hard enough even the thickest vines creak in protest. Tighnari frowns and doesn’t let up, harshly massaging the soft spot inside him. Finally, with blush all the way down his neck and his wet pink cunt throbbing around Tighnari’s hand, the wanderer cums—a short hot squirt over Tighnari’s wrist with his whole body drawn taut, lips parted, urethra sputtering and wet as he pulses around his savior’s fingers.
This wanderer really is stunningly beautiful, Tighnari muses, watching him gasp for breath. His narrow chest heaves up and down. Tighnari removes his hand from his cunt with a sucking sound, brings it to his nose out of curiosity. Scentless. When he licks it—tasteless, too, like the rest of him.
“Don’t you fucking stop,” the wanderer interrupts. “I still- I’m still empty, fill me up please,” at least he’s trying to be polite. Tighnari plunges three fingers back in, curling into his soft upper wall and stroking his thumb from the tiny fluttering slit of his urethra to his clit, throbbing with heat and sensitivity. The wanderer throws his head back and grits his teeth.
“Once isn’t enough?” A hint of mocking creeps into Tighnari’s voice, something he resolves to pretend never happened. “I’ll give you another. You’re so wet, it won’t be hard.”
The wanderer, panting, rolls his hips down as far as he can in an undulating wave, and Tighnari lets him. He thumbs around his clit, making quick little circles that push him so, so close, but not close enough, until the wanderer hisses in anger. “You said you would fuck me! Why won’t you fuck me?”
“I am,” Tighnari insists, with a particularly harsh jab to his womb. His free hand claws into the wanderer’s thigh. “Your body can’t tell if it’s my hand or my dick.”
“Yes I fucking can! Your hand doesn’t fucking cut-“ and he chokes on his own saliva. Tighnari flexes his fingers, stares down at where his hand disappears into his patient. Blushing slick labia fold around his wrist, and, head tilted back, the wanderer’s mouth opens in a silent scream.
Tighnari’s vines pull his legs a little wider so he can pinch at his clit with his other hand. The one buried inside flexes again, and the wanderer squeaks from the throat, still staring sightlessly into the canopy.
That’s one way to shut him up, isn’t it. Tighnari slowly forms a fist, eyes unwavering from where his wrist sinks into the wanderer’s hole. He plays with his clit almost idly now, just enjoying the feeling of muscular walls clenching around him. Every time they start to relax, he freezes up tighter than before. Tighnari settles in for a long wait.
But finally, the wanderer croaks, “Please fuck me.”
He’s not gotten much looser, but Tighnari is an archer, and it’s not hard to pull back until the wanderer’s entrance catches on the heel of his thumb. With a wince, he realizes this is going to irritate his old lightning injury. Without hesitation, he punches in anyways.
The wanderer chokes again, trying to curl up but restrained by the vines. Tighnari does it again, thrusting in and out with a wet squelch. The wanderer’s stomach bulges, and he can see it move, and Archons, Tighnari wants to fuck something. He’s practically humping the ground now as he pounds his inner walls, imagining them slick and tight and hot around his cock, and fuck- he takes his hand off the wanderer’s clit, twitching and swollen and red, to clumsily push down his pants and take his dick in hand. He pumps his shaft in time with his punches, and fuck he can’t even feel sore when he bends down and closes his lips around the wanderer’s puffy clit, suckling at it. The man grunts and gasps and squirms with sensation, building sudden and quick.
“Fuck, I- Can I- I wanna cum, please, please,” he sobs, barely able to draw in enough air. “More! Please, let me- Let me cum!”
Tighnari sucks harder, keeps fucking in, punching his g-spot and pulling out rising wails of desperation. At last, the wanderer cuts his own scream off gasping, and squirt spurts over Tighnari’s face, dripping down his chin and through his folds for him to slurp up. Cumming, overwhelmed, he’s beautiful.
Tighnari keeps sucking on him, keeps thrusting all the way to his cervix until the wanderer starts to whimper. Finally he can give his arm a rest. His cock is hard and angry red, from both the view and his own hand.
“Fuck…” the wanderer sighs, relaxing into the vines’ embrace. Tighnari buries his face in his mound, smearing slick up his cheek and pumping himself desperately until he spurts white onto the forest floor, pleasure pulsing through him, lighting up the backs of his eyelids. When he slumps against the man’s cunt and glances up at his face, he realizes the wanderer was watching.
“You liked that too, huh?” he muses insufferably, lips twitching into a smirk. Still coming back to himself, Tighnari just rolls his eyes.
“Mhm. Do you feel better now or do you need to go again?” Tighnari asks, pushing himself back into a kneeling position between the wanderer’s legs. The wanderer shakes his head.
“Better. So I don’t need the restraints, let me out,” he orders, tugging at the vines around his arms. With a flick of Tighnari’s wrist they’re gone, and the wanderer pushes himself up, prompting the forest ranger to move back too.
They just sit and look at each other for a second. The wanderer’s expression is inscrutable, though his cheeks are still flushed from orgasm. Tighnari has no idea what he looks like, but he can feel heat in his face that suggests he’s blushing too. Suddenly the reality that he just fucked a stranger in the middle of the forest clicks and he breaks eye contact, clearing his throat as he pulls his pants back up around his hips.
As the wanderer tenderly redresses himself, Tighnari reaches up to massage his shoulder. It did reignite his old injury, but for some reason, this fuck was particularly satisfying. He knows he should keep it professional, as an act of necessity to save an unlucky wanderer—but he won’t. He’ll savor this memory for a long time coming. A stranger’s womb tight and warm around his fist, squeezing down on him in pleasure and desperation, the feeling of slick dripping down his forearm… What it’s like to have something living at his mercy. He hasn’t felt it in a long time.
“You ready, Forest Ranger?” the wanderer asks, watching him knead at the twinge in his shoulder. Tighnari can’t read him much better now that he’s not half-mad from arousal. Then he smirks. “I hope I didn’t reopen any old wounds.”