#been too hot to brain any combat lately | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ethereousdelirious · 2 years

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Heeeellpp my fill for day 9 of Whumptober took over my brain and now I have 9k words for a pairing only I care about 😵‍💫 (the prompt was "home remedy" but I lost track of that almost immediately)

Fandom: Pok.émon D.PPt

Pairing: One-sided Sn.azzyShi.pping (that's C.ynthia x L.ucian)

Warnings: N/A

Tropes: Fevers, psychic nosebleed/light psychic whump, caretaking

Summary: A feverish L.ucian ignore his own needs in an attempt to help out in the aftermath of a natural disaster, only to become a disaster in his own right. Cy.nthia catches him as he falls.

Futher notes under the cut

Note: IDK how many of you are deep into Pokémon but I completely made up this whole psychic whump scenario thing. There's not really any internal logic to it lmao my only thought process was "psychic fatigue HOT"

Note: The named Rangers are not OCs, per se, like they are original characters in the most literal definition of the word, but they're not Special, they're just some guys I made up for plot

Note: "Guardians" is used as an exclamation bc I read this great SubMas fic where they used "Dragons" bc of Zekrom and Reshiram and I was so taken with that as a world building concept that I decided to steal it. Sinnoh has the Lake Guardians, so that's what I went with.

Note: This is a gift to my 13 year-old self. She loves it.

The bitter wind of Snowpoint cut straight through Lucian's clothing, aggravating all the aches he'd been peacefully sleeping off not 10 minutes before. The shrill emergency alarm still rung in his ears: 'Report to the Snowpoint Pokémon Center immediately.' Not enough time to dress properly, let alone take something to combat the awful pounding in his sinuses. He sniffled and stepped into the Pokémon Center. The warm cut through him like a knife, blocked ears ringing with the noise of the automatic doors.

"Over here, Lucian." Cynthia's voice. Probably saw him floundering by the door in his hoodie and fogged-up glasses and took pity on him. He hurried over and flopped down in an armchair. His head throbbed at the change in elevation, the whole room shimmering and rocking like a mirage.

Cynthia and Candice sat next to each other on a loveseat of thick, easy-to-clean vinyl that squeaked with every little motion. Hopefully they didn't fidget overmuch. One more stressor and he was at serious risk of falling apart.

Foolishly, Lucian barked out a sneeze and caught in the crook of his arm. Stupid. His coat, clumsily zipped up over his hoodie, was waterproof. He should have gone for the tissues in his pocket. But it was too late now. He dabbed at the wet spot on his sleeve with stiff, cautious motions, not looking up to see if anyone was watching.

"We're just waiting on Flint," Cynthia said calmly, as though no time had passed since Lucian had sat down. Maybe it hadn't. But Guardians, it felt like it had been hours. His nose felt wet. He flopped back in the chair, angling his face upward in hopes of slowing the drip. Cynthia was pale and calm in the harsh light, dressed down in athletic tights and a long black peacoat that stopped just short of her ankles. Her hair clung to the rough wool with no barrettes to hold it back and obvious tangles stuck out in loops around her neck. Lucian's hair must have looked the same under his beanie, if not worse.

Candice, Aaron, and Bertha all wore a similar mess of loungewear and winter gear and all wore the same look of bleary grimness. It had to have been around four in the morning now.

The doors hummed. Flint came in with blithe greetings, too boisterous for the early hour and too cheerful for the circumstances.

Cynthia wasted no time; she always was ruthlessly efficient. "There was an avalanche near Mount Coronet's summit. Ordinarily, this wouldn't be a problem, but Candice received a report from some Rangers stationed nearby that it disturbed a herd of Piloswine and Mamoswine. They're heading this way. It's too late to head them off completely, but if we can make it to the Temple, we should be able to steer them away from the town proper."

Lucian sneezed again. His throat stung.

"Man," said Flint, stretching out his arms, "if I'd known this League stuff involved taking on Ranger duties, I might have re-thought my career choice."

"Please, we all know you don't think," Aaron said.

"Just for that, I'm partnering with Bertha on this little expedition." Flint got to his feet and looked expectantly at Cynthia. "Where do you want us?"

Cynthia stood as well and made for the door, motioning for everyone to follow. "We'll fan out by the Temple."

The cold air pinched Lucian's earlobes and nose and the powder snow crunched under his boots, centimeters giving way beneath his weight. He sniffled and his sinuses throbbed, protesting the increased pressure.

"I'll partner with Candice," Cynthia continued, leading them with long strides. Her breath came out in plumes of fog. "That leaves Aaron and Lucian."

"Nice." Aaron reached out to fist bump Lucian, his easy grin shining under the light of the moon. At least it was a clear night. The thought of herding a bunch of rampaging Piloswine through a snowstorm was unbearable.

Lucian's nose continued to run as they walked until he had to sniffle with every inhale, which in turn brought him dangerously close to a sneezing fit. It was no good. He'd have to wipe his nose.

The tissues he'd stuffed into his jacket pockets were in a sorry state, but that was alright. Better crumpled-up tissues than a night of rubbing his nose along the collar of his hoodie. Still a disgusting thought, but significantly less humiliating than sniveling like a child in front of his coworkers. He shuddered at the thought of it, although that might have been the cold wind working its way across his neck, since he'd forgotten his scarf.

"You okay?" Aaron asked in a low voice.

Lucian was obliged to wipe his nose again before he could answer, nonchalantly tucking the sullied tissue away in his other pocket as he did so: "Fine," he said. Ouch. In the dry air, the word stung his throat.

"Okay," said Cynthia. Probably her polite way of telling them to focus. Lucian coughed and rolling fog spilled from his lips, sparkling in the moonlight just like the snow underfoot. "We don't have a lot of information from the Rangers, but it seems—" A cry ripped through the still air, a quiet rumbling rattling Lucian's teeth. Mamoswine. They were rare in the wild but not unheard of. "Fan out. Direct them toward Lake Acuity."

They split up. Lucian found himself walking ahead of Aaron. Probably not the best course of action, not when his head felt so foggy and congested that all he wanted was to face-plant in the snow. At least numbness would be better than this all-consuming pressure in his forehead. Though the cold would really only make him feel worse in the end, hard as it was to imagine a reality where that was even possible. Ugh. He wiped his nose again, unable to bring himself to blow it properly when Aaron was so near.

"What's the plan?" Aaron asked. Oh, right.

"Um," said Lucian. Synapses fired somewhere deep within the brain fog, gummed up and stuttering. "Uh." Bertha's Piloswine had recently evolved, hadn't it? They really should have asked her what to do.

Too late now.

The rumbling beneath their feet had picked up. It intensified slowly, then. Dangerous. If they didn't pay attention, they could end up in serious trouble.

In the distance, Flint's Rapidash made bright patterns with its flames. That was something. "I think it would be best not to attack them," Lucian said, hating the miserable scrape of his voice across his throat. Congestion deadened his vowel sounds to a thick slur. "Maybe if we used bright lights— We'll have to do a bit of experimenting on the fly. If they're scared of the lights, we point them one way. If they follow them, we aim."

"Sounds good," Aaron said. He released Vespiquen as the rumbling picked up to a roar, the wall of pine trees shuddering. Frantic Piloswine and Swinub cries blurred into the sound until it was nothing but a tidal wave of overstimulation.

"Here we go!" Lucian shouted, releasing Alakazam. Then he sneezed.

"Power Gem!" Aaron called. Perfect timing— The first Piloswine emerged from the trees and screeched, banking away from the sudden light.

"Nice one," Lucian rasped. His throat really didn't appreciate it, ripping his voice to shreds when he tried to call to Alakazam. It used Energy Ball regardless and Lucian sighed. Thank the Guardians for Psychic types.

The plan worked better than it should have, considering they'd worked in three little groups with no communication between them. Chalk it up to that elusive Elite Four synergy.

Every swallow was agony, Lucian's abused throat having not appreciated all the shouting he'd done in the cold, dry air. "Good work," he said, hissing and rasping like an angry Arbok.

"Ooh, Lucian." Aaron made a face. A breeze washed over them both, stinging at Lucian's exposed skin. The numb ache hinted at potential frostbite, as did the urgent pink of Aaron's cheeks. "You sound rough."

Lucian sneezed in triplet time and palmed his forehead. Pressure behind his temples, beating like a particularly aggressive Belly Drum. The thick knit of his hat kept his squeezing from doing much good and his fingers ached inside his gloves. "-t's just… inside." He cleared his throat. "Get inside."

"Yeah."

They trudged back to where the others were waiting. At this angle, he could just make out the first rays of dawn peering over Mount Coronet, just a slight blue tinge to the otherwise indigo sky.

"Good work, team," Cynthia said, sounding just as wrung-out as Lucian felt. Her cheeks had gone ruddy with the cold, golden hair snarled from the wind.

"I hope those poor Piloswine are alright," Bertha said. "I'm sure they didn't mean any harm."

The conversation faded away on the walk back, existing only as murmurs at the periphery of Lucian's brain. It was like his ears had had enough— of the cold, of the congestion, of the cacophony produced by two dozen stampeding Pokémon.

The cozy warmth of the Pokémon Center seared against his skin. Bypassing the coffee station the nurse had set up while they were gone, he went straight back to his armchair and collapsed into it. His face hurt. No, everything hurt. His face just hurt the worst. And his nose was still running. Ah, to Hell with it. Clumsily, Lucian pulled off his gloves and yanked a few tissues from his pocket. He blew his nose as quietly as he could and Guardians, nothing so disgusting should ever feel so good. The perpetual irritated itch vanished, the constant dripping sensation at the tip of his nose. He got up to throw the tissues away, his whole body protesting the movement.

"Hey, Lucian." Aaron caught his eye. "You want some coffee? They have decaf."

"...you." Small cough. "No, thank you." Tea might be nice. Later. When he could move without feeling as creaky as the Old Chateau.

The sound of his mangled voice elicited a collective wince from all assembled. The intake of breath made his face burn.

"Oh, Lucian." He couldn't help the sweet frisson that ran through him at Cynthia's concerned gaze. Even her pity made his heart sing. "You're sick?"

Why did it feel like confessing to a crime? He hadn't been trying to hide it. But the simple act of nodding his head was equal parts shameful and liberating. Yes, he was sick and a little bit disgusting; he wasn't this sniffly and disheveled all the time, in secret. "A head cold," he rasped. He burned from the weight of all those eyes on him, and shivered because he really was quite cold at his core.

"Sit down," said Cynthia. "I know something that will help your throat."

They were murmuring about his health now, but his congested head was refusing to cooperate again, blocking his ears and sending waves of pressure-pain all through his nose and temples. He closed his itching eyes for some relief from the fluorescent lights and felt his posture slip.

"Are you awake?"

Stinging in the back of his throat, awful, thick saliva gumming up his mouth. Post-nasal drip, said some unhelpful bookish part of himself. Just another source of discomfort to add to his inventory. He pulled his hoodie up over his mouth and coughed until the itch abated.

All the while, Cynthia watched from her vantagepoint. Curiously, at eye level. Oh, Guardians. The floor. She was kneeling on the floor beside him with a look of such ardent concern in her eyes it nearly made him sick.

"I'll take that as a no," she said, smiling a little. "Don't try to talk."

He nodded, blinking away tears. Somebody had draped a Pokémon Center blanket over him at some point. The pastel yellow covered his lap and, loath as he was to admit it, was quite cozy.

Cynthia handed him a ceramic coffee mug. 'I survived The Snowpoint Polar Plunge!' it proclaimed in faded cursive. "Try this. It should help your throat."

He raised an eyebrow at the milky liquid. Hopefully that looked politely quizzical and not rude, like he doubted her.

Cythia's smile took a turn for the mischievous. "Call it a home remedy." Oh, she was beautiful. "Oh, but before you try it, I want to take your temperature."

"...have one last… checked," Lucian said. Hard, painful swallow. His nose was starting to run again. "I didn't have a temperature earlier."

"I know, but…"

"You look like shit," Flint chimed in from somewhere. No point wasting energy lifting his head to look.

"You don't look very well," Cynthia agreed diplomatically.

Arceus on high, what did he look like? He cleared his throat. "Is it the hat? I knew I wasn't a beanie person, but that s… seems harsh."

"Actually, can you pull that up a little?" Cynthia brandished the thermometer she'd been holding low by her side. Conical tip. Tympanic thermometer. Lucian sniffled and coerced his stiff fingers into moving so he could push up his beanie. The sensation of hard plastic against his ear made him shudder and the beep of the thermometer made him flinch. Hm, maybe he did have a temperature. He wasn't usually this sensitive. "38.2," Cynthia said, touching her ice-cold fingers to his neck. He flinched again, so violently a few drops of Cynthia's questionably milk-based concoction sloshed onto his snow pants. "Oh, I'm sorry! Did I scare you?"

Lucian shook his head, wary of the coughing fit lurking in the back of his throat. It dislodged itself with his next breath anyway, just to spite him, and he ducked his head. The smooth handle of the mug slipped out of his hand, probably Cynthia taking it away so he didn't make a mess. "-haps I sh… home," he rasped before anyone else could say anything. "Think…" He coughed roughly into his fist and his warmth breath cascaded over the back of his. Oh, that's right, he'd already taken his gloves off. Awful. Coughing only sent a metallic spike down his throat and with a sigh, he sank back in the armchair and gave up on talking, instead lifting his hands to Cynthia.

She passed the mug back to him with a cautious smile and raised eyebrows. What did that mean? Few people had ever looked at him so tenderly, fewer still when he felt this grimy and embarrassed. He took a sip of whatever concoction Cynthia had whipped up. The taste was muted thanks to his congested nose, but what notes came through were sweet and rich. Milk and honey. It stung a little, too, and made his nose run. There was more in it, little flecks of red floating on the surface, but he was far too tired to figure out exactly what.

"Just sit quietly and drink that," Cynthia said, rubbing his shoulder. Her fingers made an awful scritching sound against the nylon of his jacket.

Lucian nodded, relaxing by degrees as the warmth of Cynthia's kindness washed over him.

He sat quietly while the others worked out what to do, listening through blocked ears. It was so hard to keep from nodding off and only the threat of spilling hot milk all over his legs kept him from slumping over where he sat.

Still… He really wasn't paying attention. The rhythm of their voices lilted and rolled and his whole face throbbed with pressure, congestion that blocked out the high frequencies of everyone's speech. Aaron's voice cut through it the easiest, but he didn't talk much, listening with an expression of intent concentration. He looked, as the rest of them did, pale and tired.

"Does that work for you, Lucian?" Cynthia asked, turning to him.

They all followed her gaze, albeit with polite, exhausted detachment. Not that it mattered. They could have all been glaring at this and he wouldn't have cared. He was too tired.

What had they been discussing? Something about structural damage, duties, Candice, lodging… Ah, there it was. The proposal had been to stay the night at the Snowpoint Pokémon Center in case any of the buildings and routes had suffered structural damage and further assistance was needed. Rescue operations, that sort of thing. Probably for optics more than anything. What could they do that a Ranger couldn't?

"Yes," Lucian rasped, staring at the coffee table in front of him.

Everyone got up then, so he followed suit and had to steady his legs against the armchair to combat the dizzying ringing that reverberated from ear to ear. Dampness gathered at the bottom of his nose and he sniffled.

Passing through a reality that shimmered and danced around him, he found himself in a dark, quiet room. When his eyes fell upon a twin bed, he wasted no time. He wrestled out of his coat, boots, and snow pants and his skin prickled at the change in weight and temperature and a deep shudder raced through him. With one miserable sigh to brace himself, he stacked up the pillows to support his head and crawled into bed.

In Lucian's dreams, something roared. He looked around for the source of the noise and glass shattered and his body lay flat and still.

Icy wind stung his exposed skin, his face and hands.

He opened his eyes and stared outward, unable to fully process the scene before him without his glasses. His head ached. The window had broken. Had he…? No. His latent psychic powers were not strong enough to wreak this kind of destruction.

But the fact remained. Something had broken the window, some dark hulking shape that blocked his view of outside, but not the flow of freezing wind.

He reached out for his glasses. His hand shook violently with the cold, so deep it made his bones ache. He had to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. Had his fever gone up? Or was it really that cold in here?

It was certainly cold enough to make his throat sting with every swallow, to draw tears from his eyes. With no tissues handy, he had no choice but to wipe his dripping nose on his sleeve.

"A-Alakazam," he croaked, his eyes glued to his crumpled snow pants.

The Pokémon materialized and, perceiving the glass on the floor, began to levitate.

"C-c-can—" Belatedly, Lucian pulled the covers up to his chin. Pain pulsed through his temples and Alakazam's eyes glowed blue. The glass shards on the floor (and something else, curious little shapes like black confetti) rose into the air and floated over to the wastebasket. Lucian ran a hand down his face and sighed. He'd have to get up.

Thankfully, hauling himself upright was more of a chore than a challenge. He wrapped the top layer of the covers, a thick quilt, around himself and peered into the wastebasket. Pine needles. That would explain the eldritch shape jutting through the newly-broken window. It was the very top of a pine tree.

Lucian stared at it. A few sneezes caught hold of him, three in succession. Instinctively, he reached for his pocket. The quilt slid from his shoulders

Right.

He wasn't dressed.

He rectified this with alacrity, eager for all the shelter he could get from the persistent cold breeze. Alakazam watched but did not reach out again. That was good. Attempting to communicate with Psychic Pokémon was taxing at the best of times; he didn't even want to think about what it would do to him in his current condition.

Oh, and speaking of which— A coughing fit doubled him over, exacerbated by the cold air. The room— he should leave the room. Go home, go to bed.

Footsteps thumped in the hall. Lucian recalled Alakazam and stepped out to intercept the stranger, making sure to shut the door behind him.

"Mr Lucian." The nurse skidded to a stop in front of him, her eyes narrow, analytical. "Are you hurt?"

Standing disagreed with him, but it wouldn't do to lean on the wall and undermine his reassurances. "Unharmed," he rasped. "'I'm—" He turned away and cleared his throat, praying for the return of his usual clear timbre. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name last night." He needed to blow his nose.

"It's Angela."

He tried to smile at her, but his lower lip stung in several places where the skin split and he only managed to wince. "I'm unharmed, Nurse Angela."

She nodded shortly. "Let's keep it that way. If you'll come with me."

He didn't bother to argue. It hurt too badly to talk.

She led him back toward the lobby, taking a turn just before the reception desk. He lagged behind a little to better observe the small crowd beyond the reception desk. Three Rangers, attended by their partner Pokémon, paced the floor, steaming polystyrene cups close at hand. One of them caught his eye just as he turned away, and he was left with only the impression of a cocked eyebrow and sharp blue eyes.

Around the corner was a kitchen, cramped, but large enough to hold a small table and four mismatched chairs with just enough room to maneuver. "Sit here," said Nurse Angela, pulling out a chair for him.

Lucian obeyed, watching her closely. She was older, with a few silver streaks in her strawberry blonde hair. He had encountered this brusque bedside manner before. It was an attitude he could respect, though in his heart-of-hearts, he preferred a tender touch.

"Oran juice or Sitrus juice?" she asked, opening up the fridge.

Lucian had to cough before answering. "Sitrus, please."

She thunked the bottle onto the table in front of him. "You know the drill. Stay hydrated, avoid strenuous activities. Get home soon, before the Rangers get a hold of you; I know they're itching to boss around the great Elite Four. Just be sure to eat something before you go." She set a foil packet of analgesic pills on the table. "Take these after you've eaten."

"Y-yes," said Lucian, only just managing to avoid tacking a "ma'am" onto the end of it.

"Good." From her pocket, the nurse produced a familiar tympanic thermometer. "Hold still." This time, Lucian managed not to flinch when it beeped. "38.0," Nurse Angela said. She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Don't push it today."

Lucian nodded, reaching in his pocket for tissues. He held them up to his nose but didn't blow, too attached to his manners and too distracted to question himself. So the Rangers wanted to speak to him? What could they possibly want? Between Cynthia, Flint, Aaron, Bertha, and Candice, they should have had plenty of support. Surely his presence wasn't so sorely needed.

"My shift is over," Angela said, catching his eye from the doorway. "I mean it, those Rangers will be all over you the minute I walk through the door. Don't let them push you around. You need to rest."

As though to drive home her point, Lucian's breath caught. Tears sprang to his eyes, and so he only nodded his acknowledgement, staving off the coughing fit until she was out of the room.

His cold, which had seemed so content to wreak havoc in his sinuses yesterday, was thoroughly in his throat and chest now. Fighting for composure, he drained the bottle of Sitrus juice in a few long swallows and rubbed the tears from his eyes with the palms of his hands. He'd already overdone it, no doubt, but it wasn't like he could just ignore an emergency summons.

"Hey." A masculine voice drew his attention. Lucian lifted his aching head and looked with heavy-lidded eyes at the Ranger who had caught his attention in the lobby.

It was immediately obvious the kind of man he was: brutish, bossy, insecure.

Snow caked his boots, yet his well-defined biceps were exposed, poking out of the fleece vest he wore. He looked at Lucian with real challenge in his eyes, the corners of his lips pulled down as though to hammer home that he had looked Lucian over and wasn't impressed.

Lucian pushed up his glasses. "Hello."

"You're Elite Four Lucian?" The title was clunky and rarely used and from this stranger's lips, smacked off skepticism and mocking.

"Yes." Lucian cocked an eyebrow right back. The Sitrus juice had taken care of some of the rasp in his voice, and he pushed a little harder to make sure that he was heard. "And you are?"

"Ranger Donovan." He finally smiled, revealing a chipped incisor that came down at a sharp angle. "Glad to meet you, Lucian. Have you eaten yet?"

"I haven't."

"Here." Donovan tossed something at him. It landed on the table with a thump. A granola bar. The label was shiny silver and read 'Geobar: Mountain Tuff,' with a picture of a scowling Geodude behind the text. "Eat up, but make it quick. We got a long day ahead of us."

Lucian checked his Pokétch. 9:12. "Forgive me, but I h-haven't, I—" A sneeze ripped through him, followed by another. He dabbed at his nose with a crumpled tissue from his coat pocket. The sneezes had felt like two small explosions in his head. Tears streamed from his eyes. "I haven't been briefed on today's situation. And, if you'll excuse my saying so, I'm not sure what kind of help…" He trailed off under Donovan's gelid glare. His arms were crossed now, biceps and deltoids bulging under the skin. With his mouth lulled back in a tight, shit-eating smirk, he towered over Lucian, who sat leaning with one arm braced against the table.

Donovan was challenging him. Daring him to back out, to admit that he was too weak and too sick to be of use. And Lucian… Yes, he was self-aware enough to know a fatal flaw on second glance (and he'd had more than a few glimpses at his own arrogance over the years), but that didn't mean he was master of it. Heat bloomed under his collar, rising to his cheeks.

"You're sick, I know," Donovan said, rolling his eyes like it was a personal failing on Lucian's part. "But we need a strong Psychic user, and you fit the bill." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

A strong Psychic user…

Thoughts raced through Lucian's aching head.

It seemed unlikely that there was a problem with any Fighting types… If the matter were truly urgent, someone would have woken him up… So…

Building codes in Sinnoh were specific about where trees could be planted, yet one had damaged the Pokémon Center this morning. Perhaps it had taken a blow from a frenzied Pokémon or, more likely, the intense vibrations had weakened its structure. It could have slid as the snow gave way beneath it… and this could have happened all over Snowpoint. The vibrations from the stampede had felt like a small earthquake; perhaps some of the older houses had even suffered partial collapse. In that case, it made perfect sense that they would need a Psychic trainer's assistance.

"You need me on cleanup duty?" Lucian asked, making a point of raising his eyebrow again. A shiver ripped through him, trailing malaise in its wake. His stomach churned as though to remind him of its emptiness.

Donovan's surprised flinch was the sweetest victory Lucian had tasted in a very long time. "Yes," he said, recovering. "I'll brief you on our way to the first site."

Lucian nodded, tensing up under another angry growl from his stomach. "I'll meet you in the lobby in five minutes." He stared, dead-eyed, at Donovan until he left, then slumped against the back of the chair. He felt every degree of his fever beneath the layers of his hoodie and snow jacket. Beneath his beanie, his hair was damp with sweat. But there was no time to waste. He choked down the Geobar and washed down the pills Nurse Angela had given him with a can of cold brew from the fridge.

He raided the kitchen shamelessly, refreshing his supply of tissues from a box on the counter and zipping protein bars and more foil packets of painkillers into the inner pockets of his snow jacket. Even if he wasn't a true Psychic, guiding and resonating with Psychic type Pokémon still took energy. There was a reason Psychic users had a reputation as heavy sleepers and big eaters.

Lucian reported back to the lobby after exactly five minutes, having timed it down to the second on his Pokétch.

Donovan was waiting for him with his arms crossed, a particularly large Machamp looming behind him in the same posture. Two other Rangers sat in armchairs, one with a Medicham standing beside them and the other holding a Kirlia in their lap. "This is Toshiko and Alexis," he said, gesturing at them in turn.

Lucian inclined his head slightly instead of bowing properly. He really didn't want to know what the change in orientation would do to his sinuses. "Lucian," he said hoarsely. It seemed his voice had stopped giving out quite as dramatically as it had last night, though the tradeoff was a miserable rasp.

An uncomfortable silence stretched out for a split second too long, the two Rangers peering at him with what seemed like earnest concern, or at least curiosity.

"He has a bit of a cold," Donovan said dismissively, waving a hand. "Let's get going."

Lucian was quick to follow him. His smoldering fever had rendered his winter clothing nearly unbearable and even the bitter wind of Snowpoint now seemed preferable to another second trapped inside in these layers.

Outside, teams of Rangers plodded to and fro across the layers of white snow. Silver clouds blanketed the sky, washing everything out to bright pastels.

"Here's the deal," began Donovan, looking supremely unbothered despite his bare arms. "We have four fallen trees and three damaged properties, counting the Pokémon Center. If we can get them cleared out before the repair team gets here, that will cut their work in half."

Lucian sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his glove. It was disgusting, yes, but even the small act of taking his glove off to reach for a tissue seemed like an unwise expenditure of energy.

Donovan continued, "Also, one of the trees is blocking the road, so that's priority number one. The plan is to combine manpower— Well, Pokémon power and Psychic energy to move the rubble to designated zones. Then, the disposal team can take care of the rest."

"Understood," Lucian said. Presumably, the explanation had been for his benefit, as Toshiko and Alexis hadn't appeared to be paying any attention to it.

They reached the first felled tree and Lucian's breath caught. He choked the coughing fit down as best as he could, faltering under the weight of all their eyes on him. His tears dried cold on his fevered cheeks and he shuddered at the discrepancy before remembering himself. "Excuse me. Shall I?" He released Girafarig without waiting for an answer.

"Just that one?" Donovan asked, eyeing Girafarig with obvious displeasure. "This would go a lot faster if you used your whole team."

"I can't," Lucian said irritably. It wasn't exactly common knowledge, but countless Psychic masters had died identifying the limits of their abilities. Skilled Psychics could mentally resonate with three or four Pokémon at most. Anything beyond that inevitably resulted in strokes, seizures, and death. Lucian's own limit was three. He had tried it with Espeon, Girafarig, and Gallade once and managed to hold the connection for exactly one minute and 28 seconds before a blood vessel in his nose had burst and drenched his suit with an alarming amount of blood. "Two, maybe. But six would kill me."

Donovan rolled his eyes. "Well, this tree is the biggest we're going to face today, so if there was ever a time to exert yourself…"

He was right. The tree was massive and Alexis' little Kirlia was unlikely to be much help. Then… Bronzong, maybe. No, Gallade. Might as well give Kirlia something to aspire to.

"Alright," said Donovan, nodding. "The Psychic types will lift the tree, then the Fighting types will get under it. Medicham's pulling double duty, so stay on your toes. Ready?"

Lucian swallowed. An undertaking of this magnitude would be unpleasant even on his best day. But there was no time to hesitate, not when Kirlia's eyes were already glowing. He reached out with his mind and found his Pokémon's energy, their understanding, and finally, their effort. His vision wavered as the tree began to rise, his heart pounding in his chest and head. One inch, two inches, then the burden was less. Machop got his hands under the trunk, then Medicham, then Donovan, which was… unexpected.

The drop point was clearly delineated, which was a blessing because Donovan had neglected to point it out. Lucian kept his eyes on the bright orange tape marking out the area, stifling coughs deep in his chest. It hurt, but he couldn't afford to break concentration now. Not when his Pokémon were counting on his guidance. They leaned on the edges of his psyche and pressure pounded in his temples.

When the tree finally dropped in the snow, Lucian fought the urge to drop with it. He leaned against Girafarig instead, his sore chest protesting every deep inhale.

"One down," said Donovan, dusting off his hands. "Let's get a move on."

"One minute," Lucian wheezed, coughing lightly on every syllable. It felt like someone had dropped a lit match down his throat and it was just sitting in his larynx, refusing to move. He spared a glance at Alexis, but she seemed unaffected. Maybe a little winded, if he wasn't just imagining things to console his own bedraggled ego.

Girafarig nuzzled him and Lucian finally straightened up. His whole body hurt now, well and truly ached in every extremity and joint. He wiped his nose on his glove again and trudged after Donovan, who had started walking without a word.

He recalled Gallade before they reached the next site and that lessened the mental toll. Donovan shot him a dirty look from under the tree trunk when he noticed.

Lucian preferred to face problems head on, but he had neither the voice nor the pain tolerance for an argument. So when the tree was settled, he did not look Donovan square in the eye and ask what the matter was. He waited, one hand resting on Girafarig's side, in silence.

Well, near silence. He sneezed a few times.

"Look," said Donovan pointedly, eyeing him with unrepentant disdain. "If you can use two Pokémon, you might as well use two Pokémon. It'll lessen the strain on the Fighting types."

And you, Lucian did not say. Far be it from him to take this kind of treatment laying down, but he just didn't have the energy to argue. He knew the way out, and it was through. They could find another Trainer if he insisted on it, but that would mean forcing an argument through his shredded throat, then trudging through the snow to find a Trainer, waiting while the process was explained to them, then dragging himself back to the site for more punishment.

There was no replacing him, either. The nearest Psychic worth their salt was probably hidden somewhere on one of the southern routes, tempering their discipline in a perpetual blizzard. Dredging up a team that could touch Lucian's in power would be an exercise in futility; they might as well wait for the repair team and their buzzsaws.

No, he was going to do this Donovan's way, and then he was going to go home and sleep for ten straight years.

At the third site, Lucian fell to his knees in the snow, feeling his subpar breakfast in every tremor of his hands. Who knew how many calories he had burned through this morning? It was certainly more energy than one granola bar could provide.

"There's no need to be dramatic," Donovan said, but he was breathing just as heavily.

Lucian sat backwards, the cold biting right through his snow pants and underlayers, dueling with his fever. It somehow managed to be painful and he shuddered, his skin crawling.

He caught Alexis' eye and beckoned her over with a slight nod that rang his skull like a bell. The part of her face that peeked out over her muffler was pale and waxy. Lucian tried to smile and felt his lip split.

She looked at him expectantly. Lucian pulled off his gloves and reached into his snow jacket for a granola bar. "Here," he rasped.

She didn't smile, exactly, but her eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Thank you," she said, sitting next to him in the snow. "I meant to bring some trail mix with me, but I forgot."

"Five minutes," Donovan barked.

Lucian didn't bother to look at him, but Alexis turned over her shoulder. "You got it!"

They seemed to be on friendly terms. Lucian would have liked to have asked her about it.

Instead, he spent the break in silence, forcing a granola bar down his throat and chasing another painkiller with a handful of virgin snow.

He could have wept when Donovan ended their break a full two minutes early. Chills crawled along his skin and sank deep into his muscles and the added mental strain of guiding his Pokémon drove him further toward total collapse with every shaky breath. The between times offered no respite, just a merciless slog through the snow.

The wind picked up at site number six and Lucian's hand shook when he reached for Gallade's Pokéball. He couldn't stifle a groan when a sneeze ripped through him, his fever magnifying the ache that ripped across his ribcage. He caught Donovan looking at him curiously when he recalled Gallade, but neither one of them said anything. Lucian couldn't focus on two Pokémon any more. His concentration would slip, adding unexpected weight that the others were ill-equipped to carry.

He would have bowed out entirely, shaking with pain and fatigue and illness, but he recognized this house. The heavy stone chimney, with its distinctive silhouette, had been knocked down by the tremors. The very same chimney Lucian had stared at as he trudged down the path to Snowpoint, the ever-growing silhouette proof of his progress. That there really was an end in sight.

He had to help.

Reality pulsed in front of his eyes when Girafarig pushed its energy outward and the weak walls of his psyche threatened to buckle inward and collapse just like the chimney. Everything rippled and spun and he staggered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. The chimney slipped, just a little, Girafarig stretching out for his guidance. Lucian refocused their energy with difficulty, struggling to keep the marker flags in his vision. His legs shook.

Donovan, Machamp, and Medicham slipped out from under the chimney and Lucian let the connection drop. Only his locked knees kept him upright in the face of a familiar, dark silhouette on the horizon. Golden hair fluttered in the wind.

"One left," said Donovan, his chest heaving somewhere in Lucian's peripheral vision. "Let's get this over with."

Tears pricked the corners of Lucian's eyes. No. No, he couldn't break now. Not here, not like this. "I…" It hurt to admit, not just his throat, but his pride. "...can't." He was so hot. He pawed his beanie off with a convulsive motion and dragged his fingernails along his forehead to unstick the sweaty coils of hair that had stuck to his skin.

In the distance, Cynthia crested a small hill, her peacoat fluttering around her calves.

"What?" said Donovan.

"I can't do it." Every word was a knife in Lucian's throat.

"Donovan," Alexis hissed.

"I… I don't…" Lucian's vision narrowed. His legs trembled. Something wet gathered on his upper lip and ran into his mouth. Blood. He bent at the waist to spit it out and nearly lost his balance, red spots spattering and pulsing in the snow.

"Lucian? I've been looking everywhere for you."

He couldn't, oh, Guardians, he couldn't—

"Hey. Lucian?"

His legs finally gave out and he couldn't catch himself, falling face-forward into the snow. He curled up a little, all his muscles spasming and tensing, driving his cheek further into the iced-over snow that covered the powder. It hurt. It all hurt. Blood flowed from his nose, painting his vision sickly red. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Somewhere over the ringing in his ears, the crunch of approaching footsteps buzzed like static. "What happened?" Cynthia demanded. "Did someone hit him?"

"Looks like a seizure to me." Donovan's voice.

Cold fingertips traced Lucian's brow, breath ghosting along his cheek. "Fuck," Cynthia whispered. Then louder but from farther away, "He's burning up!"

That much was true. His winter clothes trapped his body heat like they were supposed to, slowly cooking him even as the snow stung his cheek and neck.

"Is he?"

Another voice. "You said it was just a cold."

He was the only one who had all the answers and here he was, insensate on the ground, all his muscles seizing. It was something akin to a panic attack, a warning from his body to stop. Now.

Not a seizure.

He should say so before they tried to give him the wrong medical care.

Unfortunately, when he opened his mouth to speak, coughs wracked his aching body. Wet, ragged coughs. Blood in the snow. In his mouth. Burning, aching skin.

"Don, he's really sick."

"Go get the sled from Medical."

Footsteps in the snow.

"Lucian." Cynthia again. "Can you hear me? I need you to pick your head up."

He nodded, scraping his face along the ice, and pushed himself up onto one shaking arm. His nose appeared to have stopped bleeding and by some miracle, his glasses had stayed on. "I may have overdone it," he rasped, his voice nothing more than a hiss.

"Don't try to talk."

He shook his head. She needed to know. "I'm alright." It was true, more or less. He had pushed himself much too far; his head pounded so badly he couldn't see straight and he was still shaking, not with cold but with fatigue. "I'd rather not take the sled."

She studied him, her eyes cool and calculating. At this distance, he could make out the reflection of the snow in her silvery irises. "You're certain you can walk?"

Lucian nodded and, to prove it, rose to his knees. His head rang like a struck gong, but he kept his balance.

"Hey!" Donovan yelped.

Lucian flinched. It was a dirty trick to pull, but there wasn't another way. Cynthia could be as fierce as a mother Garchomp when the mood struck her, and if Lucian had to play the broken bird to get away from Donovan, he was prepared to do so. He caught her eye to better hammer home his point, and for a split second, ceased his efforts to keep his pain from showing on his face.

"You should wait for the medic," Donovan continued.

Cynthia frosted over in an instant. "I'll handle it from here. Thank you, Ranger." She turned to go, not offering Lucian her arm nor any other assistance.

Silently, he thanked her, and made a point of holding himself upright until his exhausted muscles gave out. Dried blood pinched at the irritated skin around his nose and made his eyes water, threatening sneezes that never quite came.

Cynthia was a beacon beside him, her golden hair shining as though beneath a spotlight. She was magnificent against the snow, so dazzling it would have hurt his eyes to look if not for his glasses.

Everything was bright and gleaming now, the Rangers' tents and caution tape, their uniforms and their Pokémon, the lights in the windows of houses that they passed, and especially the Pokémon Center's neon light. It might as well have been molten metal, the way it cut right through his glasses and sent twin spikes through both irises. His thermal underlayers rubbed against his skin with unpleasant friction.

"Did he hit you?" Cynthia asked finally.

Wary of shaking his head and knocking himself off balance, Lucian took a breath to answer and only made himself cough. It was nearly his undoing, and when he finally stopped, phantom pains raced around his ribs. His head swam, vision doubling in sickening waves. Yes, he had overdone it. He understood. And further, he knew what Cynthia was getting at. She needed to know what he needed, whether he was injured or dehydrated. "No. Just need to sleep," he said, unable to raise his voice above a whisper.

"That's it?"

He inclined his head. Guardians, but he loathed being so reticent. There just wasn't a better way to communicate close at hand.

The Pokémon Center loomed in front of them, the entrance a few mere feet away. "The nurse should look you over," Cynthia said. "In fact, I'd rather a doctor, but I don't think Snowpoint has a clinic."

The sliding doors had already opened for them but Lucian leaned against the exterior wall so he could shake his head without knocking himself over.

His brain rattled against the sides of his skull, pain centers lighting up left and right, top and bottom. No doctors. Not until the dust had settled some. Surely the medical staff had enough on their plates without having to look after a foolish Trainer who really should have known better than to push himself as hard as he had.

Unfortunately, the Pokémon Center was bustling now. Displaced citizens and Rangers alike milled in the lobby. Lucian covered his face with his hand to hide the dried blood clinging to his nose and lips. Cynthia took him by the wrist and strode through the crowd and Lucian's lungs and throat seared and he couldn't— Lights and voices, his vision turning over and over like a carnival ride— Of course, his body wasn't kind enough to let him faint. He stumbled into Cynthia's back and had to put his hands on her shoulders to right himself and he couldn't see for the pain in his head.

His stomach lurched and Guardians, he wasn't going to be sick, was he? Not here. Not with his arm over Cynthia's shoulders— when had that happened?

"You're really burning up," Cynthia said under her breath.

"Don't feel good," he mumbled, struggling now to pick his feet up.

"Lucian?"

"I d-don't—" Here it was. His limit, finally reached. He couldn't take another step. Couldn't hold his head up. Couldn't.

His throat tightened as reality shattered around him, one sickening drop off the edge of a cliff. He was burning up.

Can you take my jacket off?

The words didn't sound. His voice was gone.

"Hold on, Lucian." Cynthia tugged him sideways and his knees buckled. She lowered him to the ground, cold linoleum under his burning cheek. He fumbled for his zipper, finally freeing himself of the inferno that had been raging beneath his layers.

"Here." Cynthia got behind him and helped him sit up, slipping the jacket off his shoulders. "The hoodie, too."

This left him in a sweat-soaked T-shirt and he was too miserable to even be embarrassed by his appearance. With the cool flooring under his back, his awareness began to call itself home, centering itself back in his skull where it belonged. Sagging wooden shelves leered down at him with rows of white teeth— sheets. Bedding.

Are we in a linen closet?

"Shhh." Cynthia swept her fingers across his forehead and stood up. He watched her scan the shelves and give up, kneeling again so she could fold up his hoodie and slide it beneath his head. Her fingers caught in his damp curls and he winced. Less at the discomfort and more at the realization. He must have looked awful.

"I need to go get some things," Cythia murmured, her hand still resting on his brow. "I won't leave the Center. Please have one of your Pokémon come get me if you need me."

He nodded his assent, eyes already slipping shut. The only documented cure for this kind of overwork was sleep. He'd read every book he could find on ESP and Psychic powers. Just sleep. That was the only thing…

It didn't come.

Wouldn't come.

He was trapped with his thoughts, his exhaustion, his malaise.

In a linen closet.

He sat up at some point, bracing his back against one of the shelves. It was better than lying there, the contents of his sinuses draining down the back of his throat.

Taking stock of himself seemed to be a pointless endeavor, but there wasn't anything else to occupy the time, so he let his eyes fall shut and self-assessed. Was there anything he had missed? It didn't appear that he'd done any lasting damage to himself, but it was hard to tell for sure underneath the weight of his fever.

He was just so tired. The hard linoleum floor was simply no match for his bed at home, the hoodie behind his neck a poor imitation of his down pillows.

Footsteps down the hall made him straighten, then hiss in discomfort. The closet door opened and Cynthia slipped in, her arms full.

"Are you up for it?" she asked, passing him something.

A clipboard and pen. Pale yellow printer paper.

He nodded.

A Ranger asked for my assistance moving felled trees and other rubble. His exhausted muscles protested the fine, repetitive movements of writing, resulting in wobbly, barely legible words on the page.

"I see." Cynthia sighed. "I wish… I knew you wanted to help." She sighed again, looking at him with something like pain in her eyes. "It's not my place to tell you off. Not as Champion. But you're my friend and I wish… Arceus, just look at you."

Lesson learned.

"Are you really alright?"

Yes.

When a Psychic pushes themselves too far

What you saw, when you walked up… It was my body setting a boundary. To keep me from actually hurting myself.

He paused for a moment before continuing

I am sorry if I scared you

For a moment, Cynthia just looked at him. Her eyes lingered on his face, her expression grave. "If you're not going to sleep, let me get you cleaned up."

Lucian nodded, eyes losing focus in the glare of the lights. He snapped back to himself at the sensation of something in his space, Cynthia's fingertips at his lips. He opened his mouth automatically and let her place a cough drop on his tongue. Honey-flavored.

"Stop me if anything hurts." She dabbed at his nose with a cold, damp cloth and the prickling sensation of dried blood scraping against chafed, irritated skin made his eyes water.

When his breath hitched, she pressed a tissue into his hand. She was so close… How had he not noticed before? She was practically on top of him, kneeling by his side with one arm braced against the shelving so she could lean in.

He turned his face away to sneeze and his whole body ached. Flakes of blood fluttered to the ground when he tried to wipe his nose and he fell back against the wall, eyes rolling. Sleep. He needed sleep. But he was too sore, too wrung out, too tired.

"Doing okay?" Cynthia asked.

Lucian reached for the clipboard with shaking hands. Could you talk for to me?

Please

Say anything

Guardians, but he was just too tired to care if he was giving himself away. Everything hurt and Cynthia was right there and he could bury the remains of his reputation later or do his best to put the pieces back together and raise it from the dead, but right now he needed her.

"This will feel cold," Cynthia said at once. "I raided the procedure room. They're disinfectant wipes." She dabbed at his nose and chin. "I can take you home after this." A long pause. She scrubbed at his face until he couldn't help but wince, and then she eased off at once. "Sorry. Almost done. There's not that much blood; I think the cold might have slowed the bleeding. There." She smiled at him with such tenderness in her eyes that he had to look away.

He'd been trying to avoid watching her work, the temptation of those petal pink lips so close to his own. But his eyes wandered every once in a while.

"This might sting a little," she said. He stared at the door, the words not processing until something cold and wet touched his cheek and the sting she'd warned him about sank in. He looked at her with furrowed brow in lieu of picking up the clipboard again

"You have some cuts on your face," she said, fanning him with her fingers. The sting abated at the gentle rush of cold air. This was… This was too much. To have her fussing after him like this, nursing him— Her, the Champion of Sinnoh!

Lucian made to get up and knocked shoulders with her and the white shelves whirled in front of his eyes. He stuck his hand out at random and clutched at a stack of folded sheets.

"What's wrong?"

Stupid. He was being stupid. Panicky and skittish, embarrassed. Blushing like a little boy. He fell back again without letting go of the sheets and they slipped off the shelf, landing on his thigh.

"Lucian, what's the matter?"

He let his eyes fall shut and tried to focus on his breathing. It was all wrong and his chest hurt and the cough drop clicked against his molars.

"I'm going to take your temperature again, alright? In your ear."

No sound came when he tried to answer, and then the plastic slid into his ear canal and his body smoldered beneath his T-shirt and snow pants. Her other hand rested on his forehead. Like she could soothe his fever with the magic of her touch.

"38.9." Her voice was completely devoid of emotion, yet the absence spoke volumes.

He reached for the clipboard.

You don't have t

Of course she didn't. She knew that. He knew she knew that.

Thank you, Cynthia

"Just do me a favor, Lucian." She swept his hair back behind his ear and trailed her fingers along his jaw, her eyes focused on his cheek, where the cool wet sting of antiseptic still lingered. "Please, just. I don't want to have to do this again. You really scared me."

He nodded. Reality receded a little, the tide going out. Each wave of pain and heat fell a little shorter of his notice.

His head found her shoulder and the dark wool of her pea coat blocked out the harsh, humming fluorescents. They'd been hurting his eyes the whole time, yet somehow he'd only just noticed.

"Rest for a moment," she murmured, her hand running down and down and down the back of his head. "Then I'll take you home."

The last of the honey drop dissolved down his throat, soothing some of the miserable sting. He turned his head and let the wool scratch against his uninjured cheek, grounding himself with the sensation. "Thank you," he mumbled.

When they moved, there would be clean sheets and soft pajamas, menthol cough drops and hot tea. But the moment he pulled back, the spell would be broken. She'd never hold him like this again.

So he lingered, selfishly, until she paused and rested her hand on the back of his head. One more breath. And he pulled back. Better to break the spell himself than wait around until she broke it for him. It hurt less, in a way.

#ethereous writes #my italics never carry over when i copy/paste and im always too lazy to put them back in #there are a few places where they were grammatically necessary but other than that just use your imagination #also if anyone is reading this i prefer they/them pronouns but my teen self use she/her

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bahamutgames · 1 year

Text

Hi-Fi AFTERTHOUGHTS

Game: Hi-Fi Rush (January 25, 2023)

Console: Xbox One (Via Xbox Game Pass)

If it wasn't obvious I haven't really been feeling SUPER up for writing about games I played recently for a lot of reasons. Just been tired and out of it. But I wanna clear up my drafts here and also just get these lingering ideas off my mind. But also, I still keep thinking about Hi-Fi Rush!!

During the move, and especially when the move was done, I ended up injuring myself so I didn't want to do much moving. And I still had a bit of time with a free giftpass subscription. And then on top of it this random little game I saw everyone talking about called "Hi-Fi Rush" was added to the service at around the same time. So it was basically the perfect storm for me to play it and help pass the time while keeping off my feet.

As always, this is NOT a review! I'm just throwing up my thoughts about what I felt while playing it! Any game I talk about here is something YOU should check out for yourself and get your own opinion on (especially this one)

SOME SPOILERS FOR HI-FI RUSH AHEAD!!! FAIR WARNING!!

Opening

So like what I said above, I hadn't really given this game a look over until this move due to all the circumstances coming together to make me wanna check it out. I saw everyone talking about it but I wasn't a huge fan of Chai's design and I didn't think I would have a ton of fun with a rhythm action game. But I'm REALLY happy I decided to finally give it a chance! This game is AMAZING!! I haven't played a ton of new stuff this year but I seriously think Hi-Fi Rush is already my Game of the Year!

Stuff I liked

So right off the bat. MAN the animation and art style of this game is AMAZING! I was actually completely blown away by how good the game looks. It's obviously very anime inspired and I was seriously blown away by just how lively and animated they manage to make the whole thing. Particularly with some REALLY nice facial expressions and like, strong poses? If that makes sense? The game is also so bright and colorful and a total treat to look at. Everything is designed super nicely. The whole game is so dynamic and fun to look at.

The characters are also ALL great! Chai's design really grew on me by the end of it (and I especially just love him as a character, he's great.) But like the whole main team is FANTASTIC! I'm so thirsty for Peppermint and Korsika, it's unreal. Why are they so hot? But Maccaron and CNMN are also super cute and fun and have some GREAT moments! And 808 has such a fantastic design! Each member of the team is also just fun and I like their stories and personalities and how they all get along. The bosses are fun too, although I didn't like them as much cause I have protagonist disease brain. AND THE ROBOTS! Oh man the robots are SO good in this game!! I of course loved the lizard ones but even generic robots and the older models all have such lovely designs! They seriously went nuts with every character here and there really aren't any forgettable designs!

The story and writing was also fantastic! I liked the absolutely bizarre hyper-amazon company they created. The plot is simple but really good. I loved seeing how absolutely terrifying and goofy this whole company was. And the story has some really powerful scenes, like when Chai busts them out of the laser cage thing. I actually almost cried during it aha. And this game is FUNNY!! Like, seriously SUPER funny! There's a surprising amount of really good jokes and even a lot of like, meta humor that's not annoying and is really funny. Almost every line is pretty much gold! I loved the story concept, the world concept, I loved every character's motivation, and it's genuinely pretty cool that the protagonist doesn't have an arm that's something you don't see a lot.

And we can't forget the actual gameplay itself! Lately I'm a lot more into rhythm games but I wasn't sure I would be particularly good at this game. But no I actually did pretty well! The combat feels FANTASTIC with timing your combos to the beat of the song. It sounds like it would be really annoying but it's not and you get the hang of it pretty easily. I also really liked summoning the other allies to help you fight and I made some SERIOUS use of them during the game. Being able to buy chips to customize your gameplay and also buy new moves, even new moves for your teammates, totally rocks and makes the game really customizable which is always nice. Outside of combat the actual movement and platforming around the levels is very linear and can be a little slow but it never felt BORING? I always liked it. And I didn't even do everything you can do! After beating it there's still a new side quest and I didn't have enough to buy the hot work out gear costumes for Peppermint and Korsika! But I absolutely WILL be coming back to this game in the future. No questions asked.

Stuff I didn't like

But, yeah, not even GOTY games are 100% perfect haha. This game does have a few small issues that kinda dragged the game at certain points. I have some nitpicks. Like this game also falls into the trap of having combos be really long nonsense button strings like mashing X a bunch. Also I actually was not a huge fan of the way the huge mega corporation was shown to be like "no guys it was good at one point :(" felt a little like a cop out. Like, yeah I guess it was nice with peppermint's mom and stuff but at the same time. No. These companies were never "good and just got corrupted :(" they were always evil. Remember that.

But my main big issue with this game is absolutely the quick time events. There's a LOT of them. And they're not all bad by any means. And like countering the big enemies' special moves feels AWESOME! But especially towards the end of the game it feels like the game CONSTANTLY stops itself every few seconds to throw a quick time event at you and they can just get kinda draining after a while. Like, the whole Korsika boss is a HUGE quick time event. And a lot of times I felt like I was failing it for no reason? Thankfully I managed to do it in one go. But if I had lost would I have to redo the ENITRE fight again? It's too much.

Another big issue I had isn't actually with the game itself. But more so with how I had to play it. For some odd reason when you play Hi-Fi Rush on game pass you cannot download it! You HAVE to play it through cloud! This was my first time ever playing a full game through cloud streaming. And I'll come out and say it: It sucks! So for most of the game it honestly ran totally fine. But I've NEVER in my entire life had good home internet that always worked 100% of the time. So by the end of the game the game just wasn't cooperating. Random crashes, random massive dips in graphics quality, random huge lag spikes. It became REALLY frustrating and there were times the game would just close out MID CUTSCENE!! It was so annoying. I am not a fan of cloud gaming. I can safely say.

Final Thoughts

Even while writing all these little ramblings down I'm remembering more and more about this game I loved. I completely forgot to mention the home base sections! Which were really charming and cute. Or the really funny and goofy emails you could find scattered around the world. Or the fact it uses actual licensed music and even though I didn't recognize a single one it was a nice touch!\

((OH MY GOD I HAD TO COME BACK IN AFTER FINISHING THE POST TO TELL YOU GUYS THAT THIS GAME ALSO HAS THE BEST PHOTO MODE I'VE EVER SEEN?? With TONS of options and cute ways to pose characters and frame the scenes and stuff! It's NUTS! This game rules))

Hi-Fi Rush is SO awesome!! This game seriously rules! It totally feels like a forgotten PS2/Xbox/Gamecube game that would have a huge cult following now! In the absolute best way possible, of course. This game was an absolute blast to go through and I loved EVERY SINGLE SECOND of it. Even when the quick time events were really annoying.

Apparently this game was a bit of a failure from what I've read? I haven't done too much research into it. But if that's true that's REALLY sad. This game is super creative and looks AMAZING! It's seriously so good looking you guys and it's SO funny! I think this is a game everyone would love if they gave it a shot! I seriously cannot recommend trying it enough! Sometimes AAA games can be good in the modern age! Who knew!!

===

Thanks for reading, I haven't been playing a TON of stuff lately cause I've been really all over the place and a bunch of stupid shit has been happening to me left and right. But I mean, you all see me posting tons about random itch games I'm playing on twitter so. You know I'm still out there somewhere, gaming. Hopefully the rest of this year will be filled with more gems like Hi-Fi Rush!

That's it from me I suppose. Go out and play a game that makes you LOVE music!

#2023 #Thoughts

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keefwho · 2 years

Text

November 02 - 2022

9:56 AM

My smol goal today is to believe everything is perfectly fine. Not that anything is particularly wrong at the moment. I’m trying to combat my ambient belief that there’s always something to worry about. I had a breakfast of corned beef hash, eggs, and toast with cheese and some fiber one cereal to try to balance out all the fat. It seems like the kind of meal that might upset my tummy because of it’s unfamiliarity and what canned beef products have been doing to me lately. But I used to eat like this all the time and I was fine. I’m hoping with how hungry I was and if I keep myself stress free, I’ll be okay. I just gotta keep my mind off my tummy. Most people don’t think about it so much.

3:18 PM

I am committing a smol challenge, about a 2/10. I’m gonna try to eat some of the pizza that didn’t fit in the cooler on the way from town. It was still cold when it got here if I remember correctly, but I didn’t get a super good feel. Either way it was only in transit for 2 hours max in a moderately warm car, not a hot summer one. It really should be okay, frozen food doesn’t thaw and go bad THAT quickly. And I’ve eaten frozen pizzas that went limp before.

4:08 PM

I eated da pizza, and I’m proud because I’m deliberately listening to my brain instead of my feelings. If I start thinking about it too much, I feel a little bit uneasy because I wonder if it COULD have gotten too warm for too long. But it never got “warm” at all. It literally doesn’t make sense for me to think it’s unsafe. I also giga-cooked it to a minimum internal temperature of 200 degrees. But thats what makes it a smol challenge. Now I have to convince myself that what I just ate was a good, poggers pizza and that it won’t hurt me at all. I used to LOVE making a big pizza every weekend as a treat. It will be so nice if I can get back into a normal care-free mindset about this kind of thing.

Now I just hope my tummy doesn’t act up at all this new-ish food. I haven’t had any of those breakfast foods in awhile or this pizza, and now I’m having a granola bar. It really shouldn’t be a problem though, thinking about it too much might make it happen to a degree. So I should chill out.

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wtf-amiru · 2 years

Text

forgot how fun ninja is

#ffxiv #fleeting raiju TO THE FACE #been too hot to brain any combat lately #a'miru #gpose #nin #god i love these shaders too #ninja #catpix

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years

Text

Long Island

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader (no other specifications!)

word count: 1110 words

summary: After a boring business meeting Natasha has a fun day planned for the pair of you hoping feelings will come to light.

warnings: swearing, awkward reader.

a/n: this is a request from a nonnie here. Hope you will enjoy this summery fun piece.

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics || banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ❥ Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

It hadn’t been more than two months since you had started working at the avengers compound. You have long been trained in physical combat and agility missions. You were a secretary of sorts, one of your biggest advantages was that you spoke multiple languages and had many different courses on your resume. You were directly under Maria Hill’s command but a lot of the time, the mysterious and alluring Natasha Romanoff borrowed you for a job here and there.

Today this Wednesday morning, you were together on Long Island as Natasha wanted someone with her for an important meeting she had with a local businessman. The day was hot, it was right in the middle of Summer anyway and you could feel sweat dripping on your skin under your formal suit.

Natasha was on the patio talking business with the gentleman where you were sitting close by monitoring, searching for any enemies or wrongdoings. The meeting ends well and you watch her as she shakes his hand and gets up.

“Hot day isn’t it? Must be a shame to waste just with boring meetings.”

“Suggest we have a day in the sun?”

“I’m saying. They don’t have to know the meeting only took so little time. And I can see you sweating. Let’s hit the beach.”

“I can’t go to the beach, I don’t have any swimsuit.”

“I don’t either. We’ll hit a store first.”

She shrugs and gets inside the car. She revs up the engine on the Audi and speeds on the main road. She is quick and efficient. You always admired that on her and every time you had the opportunity to study her up closer, your crush on her only got stronger. But Natasha was mysterious. No gossip about her personal life or sexuality had ever been known.

She practically drags you inside the store. In less than five minutes she has found beach towels, sun hats, flip-flops for both of you, and her swimsuit.

“You’re late.” She points out as she adjusts the items on the trolley and comes to look at the swimsuit you were browsing.

“What’s your favorite color?” “Ah.” You open your mouth unable to think of anything, the electricity coming from her hand touching yours has your brain short-circuiting.

“Aquamarine.” Natasha smiles and winks at you. “We are going with that.” You chuckle and shake your head and watch her as she quickly glances once or twice at you and then picks one.

“Go and put it on me, I think I’m good with numbers.” She hesitates for a minute and gives you a second pairing. “Or maybe one smaller, just in case.” You take them both in your hands and head to the changing room, she follows to the next one, trying hers on. You shout to let her know it fits and she lets you know hers is also good.

“What else am I missing?” She muses looking around, grabbing a beach bag in the process. “Oh, anti-sun lotion. Of course.” She grabs a bottle, tosses it heading to the register.

You are internally screaming at the fact that this happening. But a momentary thought passes through your head.

“We need clothes for after. It will be uncomfortable to still be wearing our suits.”

“Wow. You ain’t wrong.” She muses and winks at you again. She heads a bit back and grabs some shirts and pants in neutral colors. “We can mix and match.” She shrugs. Then she pays with the company credit of course and you head out to the car once again.

The beach looks dreamy. Quiet. Not too many people and the sun is shining brightly. There are thankfully changing stations, so you go one after the other and then head down to the beach to place one towel over the sand.

“The sand is hot.” You complain setting the large beach towel down and taking off your shoes. “I was expecting more people but is quiet today.” You try not to glance at her but you can’t help but notice how good the red bathing suit looks on her.

“It fits perfectly. Makes you look like the bomb.” She smiles at you adjusting her hat on her head. “Thank you.” You manage to whisper, heat rising on your cheeks. One very squeaky voice inside your head is screaming all caps and full exclamation points how ‘oh my she is looking at me and complimenting me, abandon ship. Abandon!’ but you manage to visible surpass it,

Until you notice what she is doing. She is taking small beans of the lotion and rubbing herself with it, a soft expression on her face as she is humming, the sun illuminating her face.

“Can you do my back?” She asks handing you the bottle, her lips curled at their ends. Is she? Could she possibly ever be flirting?

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a little bit awkward?”

You laugh at that and grab the bottle. “No, never, ever.” She turns around and one moment later your skins are once again connected. Your heartbeat has risen so much that you are afraid she is about to hear it.

And maybe she does, but nothing on her body betrays that.

Yet at least.

“You are a nervous creature. You don’t have to be.” She points out as she takes the bottle from your hands and takes her arms in yours. Her hands feel like magic as she works the lotion onto your skin, starting from your hands to your shoulders, lathering your neck and your back. Her hands move fast, one minute on you, the next on the air, always wearing that gorgeous white pearled smile.

“Last one to the water gets a kiss!” She shouts the minute she drops the bottle and rushes toward the ocean. You are a little dumbfounded for a moment or two or several more and once you blink you can see her almost halfway through the water, splashing water around.

“Oh, shit.” You blink. “I am going to pass out in the sea kissing the great Natasha Romanoff. What a way to go.”

And maybe you don’t pass out.

But maybe you both kiss each other.

Maybe you run after her once your brain starts working again, afraid she might change her mind.

Maybe the kiss feels electrifying, rewarding, and life-changing at the same time. With Natasha wondering when on earth you’d make a move if she hadn’t initiated it and you mumbling your words, not really knowing what to answer her, and maybe the business trip ‘accidentally’ lasts a couple more weeks.

But of course, Maria does not notice.

for updates please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on post notifications!

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lacontroller1991 · 3 years

Text

Burnt Skies (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

@h-hxgirl

Requested by Anon: Saw this captain boomerang fanfic where he finds she's pregnant while they're on mission, I was wondering if you could maybe do something similar for Rick

Author's Note: He would be so protective of the reader fr fr, also this is gonna be angst angst angst so just beware

Warning: Death, pregnancy, language, blood, major character death, spoilers

“Hey (Y/N), you ready to go?” Rick’s voice echoed through the room before he halted, seeing you on the floor, head in the toilet.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” you replied weakly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and flushing the toilet.

“Are you sure? Are you feeling alright?” He asked, rubbing your back as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you there,” nodding his head, he walked out the door with guns strapped to his body on his tac vest. Looking at your reflection, you noticed a slight greenish tint to your face. Ignoring the wave of nausea, you made your way out of the base and to the plane. Walking up the ramp, you took a seat next to Rick who looked at you with concern in his brown eyes.

“Baby, maybe you should sit this one out. You aren’t looking too hot,” he whispered in your ear as you brushed the notion off. After all, you did have a really bad gut feeling about this mission.

“I’m here. I’m going,” you stated firmly as he looked you over one more time before shrugging his shoulders, knowing it was of no use to argue with you.

----------

The plane ride was hell. With the criminals being loud and Harley’s non stop chatter accompanying your periodic bouts of nausea, you were ready to get the hell off of the plane and right into combat.

“Alright guy, get ready to drop,” Rick shouted as the cargo door opened to reveal water beneath you. Once he gave the signal, you jumped into the cool water and began to swim your way to the mainland, waiting for the rest of the team to catch up to you. After everyone, save for the Weasel, had made it to the shore, you glanced over to your boyfriend who was laying next to Harley.

“Hey guys, it’s me. I’m the guy who called you and I brought my friends,” Blackguard shouted into the open, raising his hands while ignoring the shouts coming from the rest of the team and your boyfriend, Waller’s distant cursing ringing in your ear. Next thing you know, there was gunfire in every direction and things went to chaos. You quickly sought shelter behind a rock and shot off a few rounds into the woods, hoping to take down some of the Corto Maltese soldiers. “(Y/N), watch out,” Rick shouted at you as you turned to see what he was talking about, but it was too late before a large piece of debris from one of the trees knocked you out cold.

You woke up to machines attached to your body. Feeling the bile rise in your throat, you tried to get out of the restraints and look for a place to dump the contents of your stomach. Suddenly a pan was placed in front of you and that was all you needed to release the bile. Groaning at the light, you looked around the room and was surprised to see a cleanish room which plenty of nurses occupied.

“Ah good, you’re awake,” a voice commented as a rough hand pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at one of the generals you were tasked to take out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” You asked, squirming your body against the bed, trying to loosen some of the restraints.

“Mi amore, we are treating you. Seems you have caught a parasite,” he replied before summoning the nurse over to you, carrying a plate of food and some juice, “you’re government must really be struggling if they’re sending pregnant women into the field,” he mentioned as your blood ran cold.

“That’s impossible,” muttering to yourself, your head went fuzzy at the concept of you being pregnant. With Rick’s kid.

“On the contrary, when we brought in your friend and you, we noticed certain things,” motioning down to your stomach only brought awareness to the fact that you were practically naked in a room full of the enemy.

“Let me go,” you pleaded, pulling your arms as much as you could.

“I think not,” he replied before nodding to one of the nurses who moved to turn on a machine and attach it to your head. Screams of agony soon left your lips, blocking out the sudden spurts of gunfire in the halls.

----------

Harley laughed maniacally as she gunned down multiple soldiers, enjoying the way they were dropping to the floor. She needed to get out of there. She needed to find the others. After the last one dropped to the floor, she moved toward the door before hearing a piercing scream echo down the hallway.

“Sounds like someone’s having fun,” she ran her tongue against her teeth before skipping toward the scream. Slamming open the door, she raised the guns in her hand, ready to fire, until she saw you laying on the table surrounded by nurses.

“No one messes with Flag’s girl,” she muttered to herself before unloading the magazine in the room. All of the nurses slinked to the ground, covered in a pool of their own blood. Rushing over to you, Harley unstrapped the restraints and head piece before taking out the IV and looked for your clothes.

“Where the hell are ya clothes?” She asked, searching high and low before she found a bag filled with your bloody uniform. Helping you sit up, she noted the way you looked super frail but practically glowing at the same time.

“Harley,” you whispered out to her before passing out on her shoulder. “Awww, this would be really cute if not for the circumstances,” she stated out loud to herself, peering out of the window and seeing a guy in a helmet run across the street with Flag. Wait a minute, Flag! Running out the door, she ran around the corner before stopping in front of the two men.

“Hiya guys! What’s up?”

“We’re here to save you, is (Y/N) with you?” Rick asked with hope in his voice as Harley nodded, wrapping pale fingers around his wrist and dragging him back inside and through the pile of bodies she had claimed. At the sight of you, Rick ran to your side and hugged your limp body.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked, fighting the tears that were beginning to surface.

“Don’t worry puddin’, she’s just asleep,” shrugging her shoulders, she left the room as you stirred, fluttering your eyes open.

“Rick?” You questioned as he rapidly nodded his head, placing kisses all along your face.

“Thank God you’re ok. I thought I lost you.”

“Rick, the doctors found something,” memories of the conversation you had moments ago replayed in your brain. You’re pregnant.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, mind still not comprehending the fact that you were pregnant. After all, you had been infertile most of your life. Avoiding his gaze, you waited for his response.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to be a dad,” he whispered, causing your head to snap up and see a smile play against his face.

“You want this? I don’t know if it’ll carry to term. You know that I’m infertile.” Placing his lips against yours, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you as close as he could to his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed back before a throat clearing interrupted you.

“This is sweet and all, but we have a fucking monster to kill,” DuBois stated as you looked up at Rick who smiled.

“Stay here, I’ll come back and get you.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” you replied as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re pregnant. No way in living hell am I gonna allow you to do this. You’ll stay here and that’s an order,” you and he both hated when he had to pull his rank, but you realized it was necessary in cases like this.

“Just come back to me,” pulling his lips down against yours for what feels like the last time, you encoded this moment into your brain, remembering the way he tasted.

“For you? Always.”

----------

He should’ve known you were going to follow them into Jotunheim. Not only were you stubborn, but you still had that nagging feeling that something was going to happen. Sneaking past the military, you found a window and busted it open with your elbow before entering the building. Landing with a soft thud, you looked around the room and noticed Peacemaker going down a dark tunnel. Running after him, you made sure to stay hidden by the numerous pillars. Peering around the corner, you saw Ratcatcher standing next to Rick, however Peacemaker was pointing a gun at Rick.

“Nobody is saying what they did was right,” Peacemaker stated, hand unwavering.

“They experimented on children!” Rick yelled as more explosions went off in the distance.

“That information gets out and it causes an international incident. Keeping the peace is worth any price, including the life of a hero like yours, sir, so please. Don’t make me do this,” your stomach churned. You knew that Captain America wannabe was no good, and now your love might just pay the price. Suddenly, rocks collapsed all around you, obscuring your view of Rick and Peacemaker.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, picking up rocks and trying to make a hole for you to get your body through. Your efforts became faster the more you heard the two men grunting. After successfully digging a hole big enough for you, you crawled through as you heard something like porcelain shatter and choking.

“You mother fucker,” Rick stated through gritted teeth as you watched in slow motion, Peacemaker’s hand grasping a large shard.

“Rick!” You shouted out before tackling him off Christopher’s body, not getting out of the way soon enough as Peacemaker lodged the porcelain into your lower abdomen. “No!” Rick shouted as Peacemaker threw you off. In the distance somewhere, you heard a gun go off before hands wrapped around your body. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” Rick called to you but you couldn’t hear him, your mind venturing off.

----------

The sun lit your face through the blinds, dancing in your eyes and creating a multitude of hues, a warm body pressed against you.

“Morning sweetheart,” voice deep from slumber, Rick rubbed his eyes as he let out a yawn. Stretching in bed before your 5 year old daughter came running into the room.

“Mommy, daddy. It’s Christmas!” She squealed excitedly, waking up the baby that was next door.

“Yeah it is baby, you excited for your presents?” You asked as she rapidly nodded while Rick slid out of the bed.

“I’ll go grab little Digger,” he commented, kissing your forehead and your daughter’s head. Getting up, you went to grab a coffee before the doorbell rang. Moving to open it, you saw Harley’s painted face waiting for you with Nanaue, Cleo, Robert and Abner carrying presents.

“Merry Christmas dollface,” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug before running off to see her god daughter.

“Come in guys,” you motioned for them to enter as Rick rounded the corner, your 10 month old in his arms.

“So this is the little guy, huh?” Cleo asked as Sebastian waved a hand at the newborn, earning giggles from the baby.

“Yep, Digger Anthony Flag, meet your family,” Rick lifted up the baby’s arm, making him wave to everyone.

“I’m proud of you guys,” Robert commented, slapping a hand on Rick’s back as everyone shuffled into the living room, Nanaue taking up most of the space.

“Thanks man, it wouldn't have happened without you.”

“Alright, everyone ready for presents?” You asked the room with Harley by your side, Harleen in her arms. Rick placed Digger in Cleo’s arms before walking up to you and bringing you into his side.

“I love you, Mrs. Flag.”

“And I you, Mr. Flag.”

----------

Groaning, you felt an excruciating pain in your abdomen and a feeling of loss?

“(Y/N), baby, you’re awake,” his tired voice resonated in your ear as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his hand not leaving yours.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you commented as he sniffled, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to escape.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he noted, petting your hair and placing another kiss on your forehead.

“And leave our kid without a father? I don’t think...”, realization dawned on you at that moment. The sudden feeling of loss and the pain in that general area washed over you as you began crying. “Oh God, the baby is gone, isn’t it?” You asked through tears as he let a couple slip down his face, nodding and trying to smile through the pain. Choking back a sob, you turned your face away from him as tears continued to fall.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. Shaking your head, you refused to meet his hazel eyes, “(Y/N), look at me.” Turning your head, your eyes locked onto his as he continued to smooth down your hair.

“We’re alive. We’re both alive. That’s all that matters,” he replied, crawling into the hospital bed with you and pulling you against his chest as you cried into his shirt.

“What if I never get pregnant again?”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it. I’m done with the fucking task force. Waller can find someone else to puppet. But I’m done. You’re done. We’re gonna get married and have a nice house. I’ll get a new job and we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Kissing the top of your head, he wrapped his arms around you as you calmed down.

“I love you,” you whispered against his chest as he hugged you closer.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Author’s Note: Well this was way longer than I intended it to be. But hope you enjoy!!

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merakiui · 3 years

Note

MERA THE SPY AU WITH ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE WITH SCARAMOUCHE? Expanding on my idea in such a galaxy brain way is chefs kiss.. that sounds like such a good story idea

YES YES!!! Lately I’ve been thinking of these types of ideas for Scaramouche in hopes of writing another story after Bittersweet is finished! Part of me wants to make it yandere and the other part just wants to write a bitter, inexperienced Mouche trying to navigate love lol. Perhaps I should do both?

In any case, I’ll put my thoughts under the cut!

The Fatui is an international espionage agency, led by a wealthy and powerful figure referred to as The Tsaritsa. And among all of her spies are an elite eleven, who serve as the best of the best in the agency. Their success rates are incredibly high and they’re all unmatched at what they do, be it combat, disguise, technology, etc. You’re nowhere near as talented as them, nor have you made a substantial name for yourself in your branch. You’re subpar at cyber espionage and you know how to fight, but these skills aren’t enough to put you up there with Tsaritsa’s lapdogs. And that’s okay with you. You just want to work without being in the spotlight. If you can do your job, collect the pay, and get on with your next task, everything will be okay.

And it’s like that for the few years you’ve been with the agency. You’ve made some friends among your colleagues. Some of them are open about their hobbies and life outside of work and others prefer to keep to themselves. Despite the rumors that float around the agency regarding the Eleven, you’ve never actually met any of them. They’re ruthless, from what you’ve heard, and they’ll stop at nothing to ensure a mission goes according to plan—with the information secured and the target remaining oblivious. Although sometimes that never works out and it’s these instances of near-failure that have sparked plenty of juicy gossip. You hear lots about how they get things done and it’s honestly terrifying to think about encountering any of these individuals when they’re in a foul mood.

Not that they’d have any reason to harm you. But hearing of the youngest’s bloody accomplishments is more than enough to unnerve you. Or how one of them is cruel and calculating, crushing anyone she deems necessary under her heel in her pursuit of success. In short, the Tsaritsa’s Eleven are a force to be reckoned with and you don’t want to cross them in your lifetime.

Of course, life often has other plans and it’s only a few weeks later when you’re called to meet with her. By some miracle, your file has found its way onto the Tsaritsa’s desk. You’re not sure why she’s interested in you—she must be curious otherwise you wouldn’t be permitted to speak with her—and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve done something wrong. Your last assignment was a success. Surely she has no reason to punish you for that. Or is it because you’re too friendly with your fellow agents? You’ve never met her in-person before, as you were contacted by a subordinate under one of the Eleven (who did a surprisingly good job at recruiting you), and it’s said that those who aren’t the Eleven only get to speak with her if it’s of great importance.

So maybe you’re about to get fired. Maybe you did something horrible and you have no knowledge of it, but she does and now you’re about to face the consequences. Maybe you really did cross one of the Eleven without realizing it. It’s terrifying to stand before her in an office that feels so stifling and hot despite HQ always being cold. Outside the door two guards are stationed, ready to intervene and take you down if you get aggressive. Not that you could ever take someone of her might down, which is probably what she suspects.

Still, her cold exterior sends a chill through you.

She’s very direct in her approach, wasting no time in getting straight to the point. She informs you of a job she has for you, a new one that doesn’t involve sitting in front of a bright computer screen all day. In fact, you’ll be out and about for this new assignment, which should last about a year depending on how your counterpart behaves. And that’s when the first shard of confusion lodges itself into your brain.

Counterpart? As in, a partner?

She goes on to explain that one of her elite has crossed a few lines on his most recent mission and as a result of this she’s assigning you as his, for lack of a better word, babysitter. You’re to monitor his behavior and actions and report back to her every now and then. By the end of the year, if his behavior has improved, you’ll no longer have to look after him and he’s free to get back to solo work. It sounds a lot like you’re damage control while he’s the subdued disaster.

And then you realize that this isn’t just any agent. It’s one of the Eleven. Just what did he do that would make him eligible for a babysitter? And he didn’t just cross one line; he crossed multiple! Oh, how you wish you could turn this job down. But seeing as you’re in the presence of the Tsaritsa, receiving an order directly from her, denying her request is impossible. So you have no choice but to thank her for this opportunity and to promise her that you will see to it.

And that’s how you’re given a one-way ticket to meet one of the infamous Eleven. Wonderful. Your work life couldn’t get any more nerve-racking. You don’t get much sleep that night, choosing to stay up and think about which of the Eleven you’ll be monitoring. Will it be the youngest? It sounds like it. He’s the type to stray from orders, after all. You can handle it if it’s him, considering he doesn’t have as many years on him as the others do. Maybe he’ll understand it if you explain the circumstances? Maybe there’s some common ground to be found?

Who are you kidding? Of course he wouldn’t take kindly to being monitored. No one would, especially not one of the Eleven. But what can you do? This is an order from the Tsaritsa; you must fulfill her wishes. In the end, you hardly get any sleep and you spend most of the night debating what you’ll say and do when you meet with him tomorrow.

The morning is frigid and gloomy, as is common of Snezhnaya’s weather, and you try your hardest to disappear inside your uniform as you drag yourself into work. There’s a whisper that invades your ears when you clock in and, rather than going to your designated desk, head straight for the Tsaritsa’s office. It adds to your anxiety. The Eleven only visit HQ when they’re here for a meeting or if something important has come up and requires them to be here. It sounds like the arrival of one of the Eleven has sprouted more than a few questions. When you send a polite nod towards both of the guards, who inform the Tsaritsa of your arrival and open the heavy, bulletproof door for you, you’re thrown into the first day of what will be a year-long mission.

And standing there with his arms folded primly across his chest is not the youngest. It’s someone whose name has only ever been whispered, for fear of alerting him and fueling his short temper and wrath. If memory serves correctly, he’s the Sixth and he is definitely not someone who’d accept this arrangement. But seeing as he’s in front of his boss, his lips are shut in a firm line and he’s holding back a tirade of nasty words.

The Tsaritsa gestures to you and gives a short introduction, stating your name and what branch you’re from. From this day on, until you can remedy your errors, you are to be monitored—those were her exact words. It’s a very short meeting, where you exchange one nervous glance with him and his icy glower that nearly almost freezes you, before you’re dismissed. You follow him as he walks briskly out of the room, eerily quiet. And once you’re far enough from the Tsaritsa’s office, he turns around and addresses you. It’s a miracle you manage to stay upright when his authoritative intonation practically slams into you.

“I have no use for a babysitter, so you can leave.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir,” you mutter, shaking your head. “This is an order I must fulfill.”

“Well, I’m telling you that I don’t need you. You’re useless to me, so get lost before I send you off myself.”

“I’m supposed to monitor you on your missions, so I can’t leave. In other words, consider this a collaborative partnership. I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine. If you cooperate, I’ll put in a good word with the Tsaritsa and we won’t have to spend a year together.”

He lets out an impatient sigh after a few tense seconds of silence. “You’re nothing but extra luggage—a stray mutt without a collar—who will only serve as a roadblock in my work. I don’t need to be babysat, nor do I need a leech like you clinging to me. I work alone.”

“Say what you want, but I can’t give an empty report to the Tsaritsa.”

“And I can’t be held accountable if you die a foolish death. Just know that I won’t save your skin, even if you beg for my help.”

You roll your eyes. “You can insult and belittle me all you want, but this is my job now. If anything, you’re the extra luggage. I’d prefer my computer screen over you, but I’m not in any position to go against orders. So here we are.”

A dark scowl crosses his face and, just when you think he’s going to slap you, he turns away with a scoff. As he stalks off, grumbling under his breath, you watch him go.

It’s going to be a long year, you think and follow after him with quick steps.

#genshin chit chat #tagging this as #meraki concepts #so i can find it later #i really want to write a story for scaramouche!#so maybe this idea will be put to good use :D #kier-xs

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junisfics · 4 years

Note

Fellow Armin slut, I feel like Armin would see you doing something that’s not sexual at all like licking food off your fingers or even like bouncing on his bed and immediately his very imaginative mind would go other places but he would feel so embarrassed and guilty so idk if he would act on it lol this thought has been replaying my thought for a good amount of time so felt like sharing 😜

this is so hot for no reason

warnings: armin being a closet perv but when is he not on this blog / nsfw thoughts

the first time it happened was late one night. you and armin was sitting side by side on your with both your backs up against the wall beside it. a book was in each of your hands, armins was more educational while yours was leaning towards fantasy.

you loved reading together, it was a nice way to spend time together that didn't involve to much effort or thought. you'd just sit next to eachother, thighs pressed together, late at night with the table kerosene still on and just read.

but you had an unbreaking habit when you read. whether it was a hint of ocd or what, every time you turned a page you had to lick your thumb before you did so.

you hated the way your print slid over the dry paper with no traction. you just had to give your thumb a little lick before taking the page between your fingers and turning it.

and armin hated it every. single. time.

it had his mind wandering to obscenities, thinking about and wishing that your thumb was the head of his cock.

he watched you continuously do this out of the corner of his eye, not even paying attention to the pages in front of him.

the second time it happened was only briefly.

levi had gathered everyone around a table, going over a few new rules he'd come up with for the house after a particular incident eren and a knife.

but that's a whole other story.

you had all pulled up chairs to sit in front of the shorter man as he lectured about behavioral issues he'd seen in the past few days.

you had decided to be one of the people that pulled out a chair from the opposite side of the table. and when you say, you turned the chair around and straddled it backwards.

armin about had a stroke.

his brain dialed out any sterning that levi was doing, all he could think of was 'what if you straddled my waist like that'

and then his thoughts are going on a tangent of thinking about your legs wrapped around him and his cock buried deep inside you as you come undone before him.

the third time was the worst for armin, both physically and mentally.

you were sparring, hand to hand combat. a fake knife in both his and your dominant hand. the objective was to get the weapon away from your partner

although armin wasn't the strongest out of the scouts there, but he wasn't the weakest. and in the past few years he's definitely has some added muscle on his body.

so after a few thrown punches, he's overpowering you and bringing you to the floor. but the fall is awkward and he's landing with his legs on either side of your right thigh and your wrists pinned between his left hand, the wooden knife in his right being pressed into your neck. your knife was discarded after being kicked away.

your body was too close, too warm, your chest pressed against his and your lips a little too close for comfort.

he thought he would explode.

but then he's pulling himself off of you frantically because 'oh shit he's hard' and running off to the bathroom to take care of his problem.

#armin x reader #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader #armin smut #aot smut

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clocknchain · 3 years

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I'm watching Critical Role starting from the beginning lately. Fun stuff. Matt Mercer is a pretty good DM, and when I eventually make a campaign I hope I can be even 1/10th as good.

I reached the part where Vox Machina fights K'varn and the Ilithids. And I have a hot take. I was really frustrated with Tiberius/Orion's choices during those episodes.

Point #0: I call this #0 because it is the most forgivable, most arguably okay decision, but ultimately still hurt the party. Tiberius flying down to speak to the Ilithids to try to rally them was a somewhat reasonable attempt to garner allies. Clarota had misled them to think Ilithids would listen to reason. But indeed it cost him time away from the K'varn fight, where he potentially could have helped things go even smoother. Combat rounds go so quickly that it was unlikely he would have been able to usefully get any Ilitihids up to the temple in time. Meanwhile Pike and Grog almost died, and Kima got Petrified.

Point #1: This is one I consider a true play mistake. When he wasted all his time trying to talk to the Ilithids, they thanked him for freeing them by all attempting to Brain Blast him. He should have *immediately* informed the party via magic earrings that the Ilithids were still hostile despite their aid. Then after killing K'varn, the party would have been a whole lot less likely to try to stay and speak to the Ilithids at Clarota's insistence. They could have, instead of durdling, thrown stone walls in the doors, and immediately packed up to get out of Dodge. Tiberius is a major reason they even ended up in combat against so many Ilithids to begin with.

Point #2: Once combat began he yet again failed to make good choices. Upon realizing they were in combat with Ilithids, he ought to have *immediately* stowed the Horn in the Bag of Holding or put it on the Magic Carpet, to free himself up to lob fireballs and launch pillars. Instead he futzed around all "oh nooo we can't touch the Horn". He nearly cost the party their lives, yet again. If Tiberius had entered the fight with the Ilithids sooner, he could have thrown a lot more damage at the Elder Brain and maybe they just might have actually killed it instead of only angering it.

I think the whole party messed up too by not doing more damage to the Elder Brain. Clearly killing the Elder Brain would have bought them a bunch of time to get away from the Ilithids. But Tiberius's actions absolutely heavily contributed to them being unable to do so. If Tiberius had rapidly put the Horn away and sealed off the doors, Keyleth could have done a lot more damage to the Elder Brain. They would have possibly only had to fight Clarota as well instead of a room full of them, freeing up other party members to hit the Elder Brain too. They could have solved the problem instead of just starting a freaking war against the whole city of Ilithids.

So, yeah. I'm quite annoyed at Tiberius/Orion!

(Side note, I think at one point Scanlan/Sam added his own strength score instead of his Hand's strength score to an attack roll on the Elder Brain??? All the crew are so bad at keeping track of their bonuses. [facedesk] I hope they get better at their math later on cuz this is killing me lol.)

#Critical Role #Vox Machina

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carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory · 3 years

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Real Dinosaurs Versus Reel Dinosaurs: Film’s Fictionalization of the Prehistoric World

by Shelby Wyzykowski

What better way can you spend a quiet evening at home than by having a good old-fashioned movie night? You dim the lights, cozily snuggle up on your sofa with a bowl of hot, buttery popcorn, and pick out a movie that you’ve always wanted to see: the 1948 classic Unknown Island. Mindlessly munching away on your snacks, your eyes are glued to the screen as the story unfolds. You reach a key scene in the movie: a towering, T. rex-sized Ceratosaurus and an equally enormous Megatherium ground sloth are locked in mortal combat. And you think to yourself, “I’m pretty sure something like this never actually happened.” And you know what? Your prehistorically inclined instincts are correct.

From the time that the first dinosaur fossils were identified in the early 1800s, society has been fascinated by these “terrible lizards.” When, where, and how did they live? And why did they (except for their modern descendants, birds) die out so suddenly? We’ve always been hungry to find out more about the mysteries behind the dinosaurs’ existence. The public’s hunger for answers was first satisfied by newspapers, books, and scientific journals. But then a whole new, sensational medium was invented: motion pictures. And with its creation came a new, exciting way to explore the primeval world of these ancient creatures. But cinema is art, not science. And from the very beginning, scientific inaccuracies abounded. You might be surprised to learn that these filmic faux pas not only exist in movies from the early days of cinema. They pervade essentially every dinosaur movie that has ever been made.

One Million Years B.C.

Another film that can easily be identified as more fiction than fact is 1966’s One Million Years B.C. It tells the story of conflicts between members of two tribes of cave people as well as their dangerous dealings with a host of hostile dinosaurs (such as Allosaurus, Triceratops, and Ceratosaurus). However, neither modern-looking humans nor dinosaurs (again, except birds) existed one million years ago. In the case of dinosaurs, the movie was about 65 million years too late. Non-avian dinosaurs disappeared 66 million years ago during a mass extinction known as the K/Pg (which stands for “Cretaceous/Paleogene”) event. An asteroid measuring around six miles in diameter and traveling at an estimated speed of ten miles per second slammed into the Earth at what is now the Yucatán Peninsula in Mexico. The effects of this giant impact were so devastating that over 75% of the world’s species became extinct. But the dinosaurs’ misfortunes were a lucky break for Cretaceous Period mammals. They were able to gain a stronger foothold and flourish in the challenging and inhospitable post-impact environment.

Cut to approximately 65 million, 700 thousand years later, when modern-looking humans finally arrived on the chronological scene. Until recently, the oldest known fossils of our species, Homo sapiens, dated back to just 195,000 years ago (which is, in geological terms, akin to the blink of an eye). And for many years, these fossils have been widely accepted to be the oldest members of our species. But this theory was challenged in June of 2017 when paleoanthropologists from the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology reported that they had discovered what they thought may be the oldest known remains of Homo sapiens on a desert hillside at Jebel Irhoud in Morocco. The 315,000-year-old fossils included skull bones that, when pieced together, indicated that these humans had faces that looked very much like ours, but their brains did differ. Being long and low, their brains did not have the distinctively round shape of those of present-day humans. This noticeable difference in brain shape has led some scientists to wonder: perhaps these people were just close relatives of Homo sapiens. On the other hand, maybe they could be near the root of the Homo sapien lineage, a sort of protomodern Homo sapien as opposed to the modern Homo sapien. One thing is for certain, the discovery at Jebel Irhoud reminds us that the story of human evolution is long and complex with many questions that are yet to be answered.

The Land Before Time

Another movie that misplaces its characters in the prehistoric timeline is 1988’s The Land Before Time. The stars of this animated motion picture are Littlefoot the Apatosaurus, Cera the Triceratops, Ducky the Saurolophus, Petrie the Pteranodon, and Spike the Stegosaurus. As their world is ravaged by constant earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, the hungry and scared young dinosaurs make a perilous journey to the lush and green Great Valley where they’ll reunite with their families and never want for food again. In their on-screen imagined story, these five make a great team. But, assuming that the movie is set at the very end of the Cretaceous (intense volcanic activity was a characteristic of this time), the quintet’s trip would have actually been just a solo trek. Ducky and Petrie’s species had become extinct several million years earlier, and Littlefoot and Spike would have lived way back in the Jurassic Period (201– 145 million years ago). Cera alone would have had to experience several harrowing encounters with the movie’s other latest Cretaceous creature, the ferocious and relentless Sharptooth, a Tyrannosaurus rex.

Speaking of Sharptooth, The Land Before Time’s animators made a scientifically accurate choice when they decided to draw him with a two-fingered hand, as opposed to the three fingers traditionally embraced by other movie makers. For 1933’s King Kong, the creators mistakenly modeled their T. rex after a scientifically outdated 1906 museum painting. Many other directors knowingly dismissed the science-backed evidence and used three digits because they thought this type of hand was more aesthetically pleasing. By the 1920s, paleontologists had already hypothesized that these predators were two-fingered because an earlier relative of Tyrannosaurus, Gorgosaurus, was known to have had only two functional digits. Scientists had to make an educated guess because the first T. rex (and many subsequent specimens) to be found had no hands preserved. It wasn’t until 1988 that it was officially confirmed that T. rex was two-fingered when the first specimen with an intact hand was discovered. Then, in 1997, Peck’s Rex, the first T. rex specimen with hands preserving a third metacarpal (hand bone), was unearthed. Paleontologists agree that, in life, the third metacarpal of Peck’s Rex would not have been part of a distinct, externally visible third finger, but instead would have been embedded in the flesh of the rest of the hand. But still, was this third hand segment vestigial, no longer serving any apparent purpose? Or could it have possibly been used as a buttressing structure, helping the two fully formed fingers to withstand forces and stresses on the hand? Peck’s Rex’s bones do display evidence that strongly supports arm use. You can ponder this paleo-puzzle yourself when you visit Carnegie Museum of Natural History’s Dinosaurs in Their Time exhibition, where you can see a life-sized cast of Peck’s Rex facing off with the holotype (= name-bearing) T. rex, which was the first specimen of the species to be recognized (by definition, the world’s first fossil of the world’s most famous dinosaur!).

T. rex in Dinosaurs in Their Time. Image credit: Joshua Franzos, Treehouse Media

Jurassic Park

One motion picture that did take artistic liberties with T. rex for the sake of suspense was 1993’s Jurassic Park. In one memorable, hair-raising scene, several of the movie’s stars are saved from becoming this dinosaur’s savory snack by standing completely still. According to the film’s paleontological protagonist, Dr. Alan Grant, the theropod can’t see humans if they don’t move. Does this theory have any credence, or was it just a clever plot device that made for a great movie moment? In 2006, the results of ongoing research at the University of Oregon were published in the Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, providing a surprising answer. The study involved using perimetry (an ophthalmic technique used for measuring and assessing visual fields) and a scale model T. rex head to determine the creature’s binocular range (the area that could be viewed at the same time by both eyes). Generally speaking, the wider an animal’s binocular range, the better its depth perception and overall vision. It was determined that the binocular range of T. rex was 55 degrees, which is greater than that of a modern-day hawk! This theropod may have even had visual clarity up to 13 times greater than a person. That’s extremely impressive, considering an eagle only has up to 3.6 times the clarity of a human! Another study that examined the senses of T. rex determined that the dinosaur had unusually large olfactory bulbs (the areas of the brain dedicated to scent) that would have given it the ability to smell as well as a present-day vulture! So, in Jurassic Park, even if the eyes of T. rex had been blurred by the raindrops in this dark and stormy scene, its nose would have still homed-in on Dr. Grant and the others, providing the predator with some tasty midnight treats.

Now, it may seem that this blog post might be a bit critical of dinosaur movies. But, truly, I appreciate them just as much as the next filmophile. They do a magnificent job of providing all of us with some pretty thrilling, edge-of-your-seat entertainment. But, somewhere along the way, their purpose has serendipitously become twofold. They have also inspired some of us to pursue paleontology as a lifelong career. So, in a way, dinosaur movies have been of immense benefit to both the cinematic and scientific worlds. And for that great service, they all deserve a huge round of applause.

Shelby Wyzykowski is a Gallery Experience Presenter in CMNH’s Life Long Learning Department. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

#Carnegie Museum of Natural History #Dinosaurs #Dinosaur Movies #Jurassic Park #Jurassic #Land Before Time #Paleontology

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multi--kpop--fanfics · 3 years

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(Not) Such A Good Boy

sub!bf!Juyeon x dom!fem!reader (ft. Eric, Kevin and Hyunjae)

genre: smut, slight crack, a bit of fluff towards the end

contains: dom/sub themes, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), marking, biting, spanking, Juyeon is a brat on a choker and a leash, unprotected sex (be safe y’all)

Author’s note: This man right there has been wrecking my existence lately (I blame Kingdom) and this GIF screams sub!Juyeon so yeah, enjoy this filth

“Lee Juyeon, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you scoff under your breath. You have been waiting for the past twenty minutes in the living room, outfit and makeup on point, since you were about to go clubbing with your group of friends. But apparently, your dear boyfriend had lost all sense of time, trying to get ready.

Visibly irritated, you storm to your shared bedroom, your heels angrily clicking on the wooden floor. “Juyeon, I swear to God-” you mutter and stop mid-sentence, only to see your boyfriend leaning on the door, fully dressed and a lop-sided smirk plastered on his handsome face.

“You called, babe?”, he asks teasingly and before rolling your eyes, you give him an once-over, processing his choice of clothes - a pair of tight black leather pants that were hugging his muscular thighs deliciously, a pair of black combat boots, a cropped black sweater with holes around his clavicles and a black belt-like choker around his neck. He was the epitome of the emo bad boy that all parents hated and all girls craved.

“Um, what is this?”, you question him with a pointing finger. "That, is my outfit for tonight", Juyeon states, the previous smirk still on his face, "What, you don't like it?". "Isn't it a bit unfair for me to wear not so revealing clothes all while you're dressed as an emo himbo?", you complain and he laughs, "An emo himbo? Wow, you're getting more creative with your descriptions, Y/N. You're right though, it's a sort of questionable outfit". You perk up at his response, hoping he'll change into something more colorful and less hole-adorned, only to be utterly disappointed, as Juyeon reached into the closet only to drape a black leather jacket on top of his broad shoulders. "Now we're good to go", he turns to you and winks with audacity. Brat, you scoff mentally and pick up the keys to unlock the door and finally leave your shared apartment.

"Finally! What the fuck took you so long?!", your friend Eric yells at you, trying to overcome the loud bass of the club speakers. "Your complaints to your friend over there, he was the one who took twenty minutes to get ready", you roll your eyes pointing to Juyeon, who was greeting Hyunjae and Kevin, your other friends. "Yooo, Juyeon, what's up with the collar, bro?", Eric amusingly points out. "It's a choker, you tasteless twat. But what would you know of fashion, since you only know how to wear t-shirts and ripped jeans?", Kevin comments and Juyeon mouths a 'thank you' to him. "Simple is the best, my dear friend. Besides, I've been getting all the girls, unlike you and your snake print jacket", Eric retaliates. "Excuse you, this jacket is a fashion statement!", Kevin bites back, feeling insulted. "Not gonna lie though, it does look like a collar. Will you put him on a leash too, Y/N?", Hyunjae comments in a snarky way, making Eric cringe in disgust. "Hyunjae, please go get some drinks, for God's sake", you reply with a dismissive manner. "Yes ma'am", he rolls his eyes and goes to the bartender.

You turn to Juyeon, who was extremely stiff after Hyunjae's comment. "You okay, baby?", you nudge him softly and he's brought back to reality. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, no worries", Juyeon replies, praying that the loud bass could cover his shaky voice. "Don't listen to Eric and Hyunjae, they have zero fashion sense, bro. I would wear that choker too, looks hella good on you", Kevin adds while pointing to the choker and Juyeon's smile is back on his face, "Thanks, bro, I really appreciate it", he replies with a chirpy tone.

The music suddenly changes into a slower jam and Juyeon smirks devilishly, as he winks at you and walks towards the dance floor. You watched as he starts swaying his hips and shoulders in the most smooth way possible, his half-lidded eyes never leaving yours. Eric and Kevin were whistling and cheering on Juyeon, all while Hyunjae was snorting at their antiques. You were simply lost in the image of your boyfriend dancing like there was no tomorrow. He wasn't just following the rhythm, he was riding it - and boy, was he good at doing so.

In fact, he was so good that he gained the attention of many people in the club. And you were lowkey proud, because that man was yours. However, a certain girl wasn't aware of that - hence why she approached Juyeon and started dancing with him. You were a bit jealous, not gonna lie, but the next moment made your blood fucking boil.

He had the fucking audacity to put his hands on her waist and dance with her - all while looking to you over her shoulder with the most smug expression on his face. That fucker, you mentally curse. This was definitely payback for everything you said before you left the house. You just knew it. You weren't even the jealous or possessive type of girlfriend to begin with.

But you'd be damned if you were to let a random bitch run her hands over your boyfriend.

Hyunjae catches up to your motions and he grabs you by your wrist. "Hyunjae, what the f-" "Shut up and listen to me. Going there and creating a scene will not end up well for you and you will give Juyeon exactly what he wants", he states and his words hit home faster that you expected. "Since when did you become so perceptive?", you raise an eyebrow and he chuckles, "I have my moments too, Y/N". "So, since your brain decided to actually function tonight, do you have any idea?" you ask in defeat and Hyunjae starts pulling you to the dance floor by your hand, leaving Eric and Kevin completely baffled. He then pulls you into his chest and leans in your ear to whisper

"Just dance, Y/N".

A Cheshire cat-like grin spreads on your lips, as you catch up to his ulterior motive and you start dancing with Hyunjae, hoping that Juyeon will notice the two of you. "Don't think too much about it, it will happen naturally", he adds, "You're too stiff, Y/N, just relax and enjoy dancing".

His words actually succeed in making you relax and you sway your hips more comfortably, actually enjoying the slow jams echoing through the club speakers. Under the dim lights, you lock eyes momentarily with Juyeon, who was licking his lips and his gaze was a mix of lust and death glares, the last one directed to Hyunjae. "Told you it would work", he comments, "You owe me this one". "Shut the fuck up, Hyunjae", you spit back and he laughs.

However, his laughter is cut short by a very jealous Juyeon, who has grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Next time I see you dance with Y/N, I'll break your fucking kneecaps", he growls and Hyunjae takes a step back, "She's all yours, bro", he raises his hands in defense and returns to the table. Juyeon then turns to you, his blood still boiling with jealousy, as you watch him with a proud smirk.

"You find this funny, huh? Dancing shamelessly with my friend?", he clenches his jaw. You then thread a finger through his choker and pull him close to your face, making Juyeon gasp. "Funny? No honey, I'm fucking fuming right now, because you decided to act like a brat and put your hands on the first bitch that threw herself on you", you retaliate, your chill facade slipping away. A sickly sweet smile adorns Juyeon's face as he watches every single movement of yours. He lowers his head, his lips hanging mere centimeters over yours and he slyly pokes out his tongue to lick your lips, hissing at the wet feeling.

"You're so fucking hot when you're mad, baby".

That was the last straw.

"Get your stuff, we're going home", you announce and he flashes a toothy grin. "Yes ma'am", he replies almost immediately and you return to your friends' table. "Guys, we'll be leaving now, hope you enjoy the rest of the night!" you announce and Eric looks between Juyeon and you. "Do I want to know what's going on?", he questions and Kevin pats him on the back while shaking his head as in 'no'. You both bid farewell to your friends and you walk out of the club, jogging towards your car. Juyeon whips out the cars keys and he opens the door for you, his gentleman-like gesture a complete contrast to his previous bratty behaviour.

The ride back home feels like it lasted for hours, when in reality, it lasted only ten minutes - maybe it's your sheer desire to fuck your handsome boyfriend to oblivion. By the time you entered your shared apartment, your lips were on Juyeon's neck, your hands roaming his toned body and his arms wrapped around your waist.

"You love acting like a bratty slut, don't you?", you sneer at him and he releases a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, and so do you", he whispers and he trails kisses upon your neck and behind your ear, nibbling your earlobe. "Are you going to punish me for being a bratty slut?".

You thought you came right there and then, 'cause fuck, he is so hot like this.

"Is that what you want? Fine then, you'll get the punishment you deserve, slut", you hiss while gripping Juyeon's jaw, your manicured nails raking his porcelain skin, "Don't say I didn't warn you", you whisper into his ear and he releases one of the lewdest sounds you've ever heard in your life. "God, you're a desperate little bitch, aren't you, Lee Juyeon?", you ask while removing the detachable strap of your bag and clasp it on his choker, creating a make-shift leash. "Only for you, baby", he replies with a sultry voice and half-lidded eyes.

You pull him by the make-shift leash, and you push him onto the couch, where you settle yourself on his lap, his hard cock straining his already tight pants. You remove his shirt, exposing his chiseled body. Wasting no time, you attack his collarbones with your lips, trailing red and purple blotches on his soft skin. You bite the juncture of his neck teasingly and he releases breathy moans, making you chuckle. You grind your clothed core on his bulge, and the sweet friction makes Juyeon mewl again. He tries to reach for your crotch with his hand, but you stop him by pulling the leash, making him gasp.

"No sweetheart, no touching tonight", you chastise him, as you pull back to remove your clothes and his pants, leaving the both of you only in your underwear. Juyeon's bulge is even more evident now, the thin material of his boxers having a wet spot, due to his cock leaking pre-cum. The sight in front of you makes your own wetness pool in your panties - your boyfriend on a leash, his perfectly styled hair now disheveled, his upper torso covered in love bites, his muscular thighs fully spread and his cock straining against his boxers.

"Baby, fuck, please do something", he pleads with bleary eyes. "Lie down for me", you order and he's laid flat on his back with one swift motion, his desperation showing. You remove your underwear and place your naked pussy right in front of his face. He reaches for your thighs with his arms, but you slap them away. "I said, no touching", you say sternly, "But-", "You should have thought twice before touching that bitch with your hands. Now, be a good boy and use your pretty mouth", you demand.

Juyeon pushes his wet tongue into your heat without second thought and he's lapping up your juices like a starved man. You can't help but moan with satisfaction, having him under your control like that gave you a huge adrenaline rush. You raked your nails from his torso to the hem of his boxers, the sensation making him moan and momentarily halt his actions. You slap his left thigh to alert him and his cock twitches, the vibrations of his moans coursing through your body as well. Juyeon now flattens his tongue against your folds with a faster tempo.

"You like it when I spank you, huh? Naughty boy", you smirk and land another slap, this time on his right thigh. Juyeon retaliates by sucking on your clit harshly, making you yelp from pleasure and you feel him smirk against your pussy. You find the leash and tug it, pulling Juyeon's face even closer to your core. "Behave, or you'll sleep without cumming tonight", you warn him and he whines, but resumes his efforts nonetheless. "Good boy, k-keep it u-up", you stutter as you feel your high approach with each passing second. His tongue is alternating between circling your clit and pumping in and out of your hole, the squelching sounds creating a pornographic scene.

You scream as you cum on Juyeon's face, your whole body shaking, as he helps you ride out your orgasm with kitten licks. You pull yourself together and turn around to face him, as he nastily licks his lips to taste your essence. "Sweet like fucking candy", he comments, "Want a taste, baby?". You pull him by the leash and crash your lips on his, tasting yourself, as your tongues dance crazily in a battle of dominance. "You're still acting like a brat, but since you did as I said, maybe you deserve to cum after all", you state and bend down to remove his boxers and free his painfully hard erection.

"Y/N, stop fucking teasing already!", Juyeon whines again and you slap his thigh again, "Where did your manners go, baby?".

"Please, Y/N..."

"Please what?"

"Please use my cock to cum"

"Fuck, such a good boy", you moan and spear yourself onto his hard cock, the sudden stretch tipping between pain and pleasure. You give yourself almost no time to adjust and you start riding Juyeon like a mad woman. He pistons his hips in unison, pounding into you with a speed neither of your brains are able to register. You put your hands on his broad chest for support and he holds your hips with his hands so tight you might get bruises the next day. Neither of you are able to contain your obscene moans nor form coherent sentences, way too lost in pleasure and lust.

"Fuck, Juyeon, you're such a good boy, so good for me", "Only for you Y/N, shit- only yours", he groans and his hips start to falter, signaling his upcoming orgasm. "I-I'm close again, nngh..", you mewl as you feel your insides clench around his cock like a vice. "M-Me too, Y/N please let me cum, let me f-fill you up baby", "Oh God, yes, fill me with your cum, babe", you moan loudly.

Juyeon moans with you as he stills himself, his cock twitching uncontrollably and flooding your cunt with his hot cum, painting your insides white. You collapse on top of him, panting heavily, the both of you sweating and spent, laughing breathlessly. You muster all the strength you have left in you to remove the choker from Juyeon's neck.

"Oof, thank you baby", he nods, rubbing his neck softly. You swipe a few dark strands of his forehead. You notice the marks on his neck the choker left and you can't help but feel a little regretful. "Did I hurt you?", you ask sheepishly and Juyeon smiles softly and presses a kiss on your nose. "No baby, you were perfect. We should do this more often, actually. You look hella sexy when you take control", he teases and you playfully smack his chest.

"So you intend to dance with random girls in clubs?", you ask and Juyeon smirks,

"No, but I intend to be not such a good boy for you".

#juyeon smut #tbz juyeon #lee juyeon #the boyz smut #the boyz fanfics #tbz #would you look at that #another juyeon fanfic

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heliosthegriffin · 4 years

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He’s channeling his energy productively.

Jaune walked down the halls of Beacon backed to his dorm, it had been a long day so far, not a hard day though, just one of those days that kept going and seemed like they wouldn’t end. Making it back to his room would at least let him spend the rest of day how’d like.

The sounds of laughter followed a group of older girls walked pasted him. It was outside of class time so the students could wear whatever they wanted. They wore clothes that were made to go clubbing.

Jaune’s eyes had a life of their own as they stared at the girls walking past, you’d think having seven sisters would make him more respectful wouldn’t you? But, having a lesbian older sister, and a couple others that were bi, all they did was teach him how to peak without getting caught.

That said he’d doubt his friends would call him out for staring, considering some of the girls here had assets that would give Yang pause.

They didn’t notice him pausing and walked by, a fragrant fruity perfume left behind. Jaune couldn’t help but look behind him, watching those girls go, a sway in their step that cause something in Jaune to rise up.

“Dammit,” Jaune cursed as his pants tightened up.

Jaune look around before he adjusted his pants, so that his zipper wouldn’t fly off by accident again, and tucking his erection down his pant leg so that it’d be less noticeable.

Jaune felt frustration well up in him, this had become a reoccurring problem since he started Beacon. The girls here were just too damn hot! It made walking anywhere a damn hassle and a embarrassment, and he had no way to release any of his damn tension in his dorm, Nora had broken the locks to the bathroom and the door; That had probably been the closest he had ever come to killing somebody.

Letting out an other sigh he resigned himself to shuffling back to the dorm as the blood went flowing elsewhere. He should just thank his lucky stars that he’d never popped a boner anywhere near Ruby, Yang would have found out somehow, probably Nora, and then killed him.

Right as he got close to the dorms, Jaune’s blood-flow was back to normal, but he still felt tense and incredibly worked up.

The sound of weights being lifted, treadmills running, and other exercise equipment sounded from nearby.

The gym was only a short walk away from the dorms. Jaune paused for a moment, Nora and Yang always seemed to go to the gym when they go worked up, maybe he should try it, it’s not like he didn’t go often anyway, so what would it hurt to work out so stress?

---------

Jaune stared at the scroll in his hands, ‘10:03′ where did the time go? He went in at ‘4:26′, went to the weight rack, and then everything seemed to go into a blur, and then the next thing he remembered was a upperclassman telling him the gym was closing in soon.

“Guess, I had more stress to work out than I thought I did.” Jaune said to himself walking to the gym showers, suddenly starting to feel exhausted and wanting to jump into bed at the closest opportunity.

-----------

The next morning was agonizing, his arms felt like they were made of pure, while on fire and being pulled apart! Maybe he went too hard last night.

He was also feeling cavernously hungry. No wonder Nora has an appetite like a black-hole.

------

Jaune’s problem came back in full force during lunch when Yang leaned too far back and the top couple buttons of her shirt decided they wanted a life in the air force.

Leaving Jaune with a delicious view of her cleavage.

Yang looked at her shirt, “Shoot, I actually liked this one.” She then resumed eating.

A hand caressing his leg, brought him out of his vision. “Are you alright, Jaune?” Pyrrha’s warm, gentle voice whispered into his ear

A mildly blush went up his face. “Yeah, just, uh, taking in the view.”

“Oh, ok then, but if your not feeling well, I can take you back to the room.”

“I’m good.” Jaune said a little too fast, as his mind started to fill in the blanks of what his monkey brain wanted to do to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha nodded.

Jaune felt thankful that Yang or Nora hadn’t found a chance to tease him about being alone with Pyrrha.

Lunch came and went, and Jaune made sure he was the last to get up, so that his problem wouldn’t be seen. He couldn’t exactly fiddle with himself under the table without drawing attention. So with all the swiftness he had, he tucked himself into his pant-leg while getting up.

In hindsight, maybe walking behind his developed female friends, and especially Blake, was a bad idea. His other head disagreed with him.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, combat class was a mess, but mostly cause he can’t being drawn to his friend outfits, they showed so much leg.

He went back to the gym again after class, he went to the treadmill and leg exercise machine. The upperclassman had to tell him to leave again.

-------

The rest of the week seemed to follow a similar pattern for Jaune, he’d wake up sore, but a little less so each day, go to class, end up aroused, then pent up, then go to the gym when he had the free time, and only when he had free time, going into those workout trances made him lose anytime for studying, hanging out, or training.

Training with Pyrrha was probably the hardest part of his week, literally and metaphorical, because while he loved Pyrrha like a sister, his body constantly reminded him that they were not siblings! It always made him feel disgusted when ever he looked at Pyrrha that way. No way Pyrrha ever looked at him that way.

After training with Pyrrha though, he still had two hours before the gym closed, and he was pent up again.

The upperclassman had told him to get an alarm or something, cause he wouldn’t always be there to tell him to leave.

-------------

Hanging out with team RWBY was always a... Experience, they were fun, don’t get him wrong, but it was like chaos in a bottle. The bottle was also cracked, and there was no cork either.

Today he and the rest of his team came over to hangout, and Ruby insisted they play twister.

Jaune was forming a bridge with his arms bending backwards to stay on there spot, while Ruby was draped across him with one leg over his shoulder and the other over his arm, with her front laying across his stomach, and her arms going in between and around his legs. While Nora lay under him her chest pressing into his back. It was also a really small mat.

Everybody else had dropped out, or refused to play, while Blake controlled the game, and Yang video taped everything.

Then Nora sneezed into his neck. That was the straw that broke the camels back. Sneeze both tickled his neck and scared the life out of Jaune, as he somehow managed to jump a foot into the air from his position, carrying Ruby with him. They landed on Nora with a thud.

Jaune’s position with Nora’s chest on his back and Ruby’s legs on his chest, really wasn’t going to help with his tension, as his lower-body decided to achieve liftoff.

That said he had managed to get a grip on himself lately,. So Jaune calmly got off Nora, and picked up Ruby, putting her next to Nora. All while hiding his full mast, then went to the gym again.

“You think he’s alright?” Ruby asked innocently.

“Probably just rubbing one out.” Nora said full of confidence. “These sweater puppy's of mine are of a quality most women can only dream of, yet here I sit, my majesty a reality, I don’t blame Jaune at all.”

------------

Jaune was watching with wrapt attention as Ms. Goodwitch strode across the arena pointing out several flaws in recorded fights she had on holographic videos. Tapping them with her wand to enhance the smaller images at time.

RIIIP

Her blouse broke, showing off globes of creamy white flesh barely being contained by a purple bra.

Ms. Goodwitch paused, a light blush on her face. “Well, Students this should teach us to be prepared for anything.”

Jaune then got up, walking out the door.

“Mr. Arc, where do you think your going?” His teacher asked severely, as several laughs broke out of the room, many people pointing at him.

“To the gym. I don’t think I’m going to be able to focus much today.” “Very well, any others who wished to join him?”

The gym was very packed that day.

------

Jaune enjoyed hanging out with Pyrrha, she was probably the best friend he ever had. He just wished she would stop having to bend over so often in front of him, or walking in front of him when she did that he couldn’t help but focus on her swaying hips.

Jaune sighed as he felt a rise tower start to erect. “I’m going to the gym be back later.”

Pyrrha merely looked bewildered. She though she had him for sure this time!

----

The transfer students were interesting people, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. They came from all walks of life, all paths, all creeds and kingdoms. From the strictly dressed military like Atlas Academy, to the survival of the fittest types and loosely dressed Shade Academy, or the storied and traditional style of Mistral. They were all interesting, diverse, strong and incredible sexy.

Ever since he ran into that black haired girl and her green haired partner, he somehow kept managing to find them in the most compromising or revealing positions possible.

So, Jaune started hitting the gym harder than ever.

--------------

1 Year later....

----

With a slight shaking arms Jaune pushed the loaded bar back up, exhaling. Then he took a slow, deep inhale as he lowered it down to his chest, then exhaled rising it up again. Inhale, exhale, till he finished his rep.

He rose up from the bench with a grate moan, feeling the warm soreness across his body. It hurt, but in a good way. In a way he couldn’t have appreciated a year ago.

Grabbing his towel he wiped the sweat off his face, and then cleaned off the bench. Treat the gym right, and it’ll treat you right back.

Jaune paused as he walked toward the shower, he had gotten into a habit of showering here so he didn’t have to make his teammate's rush to clean up, there was wall of mirror he looked himself over finding nothing of note, beside himself sweaty and his hair kinda sticky looking.

The water was cold, but high pressured, helping unwind any knots on his back and wash off grime better. He had started taking cold showers more frequently as in the field your rarely got to wash off in general, and if you did, it’s not likely you’ll get hot water, so it he thought it was probably best to get into the habit now.

Working out felt good, taking a shower afterword was just perfect. The only thing that would make it better was wearing his onesie, he had a right to comfort! But, it had gone mysteriously missing after he met Coco on his walk back from the gym half a year ago. So, for now he was stuck wearing white tank-top, and a pair of cotton shorts back to the dorm.

He waved by to the upperclassman about to close the gym, and left for his dorm. He may not have started going to the gym for the right reason, but over the course of a year, he felt like he had grown from then. In fact... what was the reason he started going to the gym? Something about women? Eh, must have been nothing. Ever since he started taking his training double seriously during the Vytal festival, it was like he just didn’t feel dating anybody till he around to being a huntsman, like that there was more to life than dating or stuff.

Jaune ran a hand through his hair, he had started growing it out at the beginning of the second year and now Pyrrha and everybody else vetoed him getting a hair cut!

“Hahah, jokes on them though, they have to brush the knots out of my hair!”

Walking back to his dorm a fruity perfume pasted his nose, a vaguely familar laughter along with it. Then a slightly familar group of girls were walking in the opposite direction as him. They looked like they came back from a night on the town. He liked the way they dressed, it complimented themselves very well.

As he walked pasted them they paused and stared at him, Jaune paused too, but shrugged, giving them a broad smile and a wave before walking back to his dorm.

Jaune failed to miss the women eyeing fucking him as he walked away, all of them red face and heavy breathing.

“Hmm, why do I feel like I’m in danger?”

----------

Jaune wasn’t sure when, but he had grown into a morning person. It was fun to get up in the morning now, he liked watching the sun rise, seeing the sky change colors on his morning runs.

Being team leader meant having responsibilities, so being a early riser now meant getting up his team, they were going to be third-years in a not small amount of time. So he made sure that they got up at a reasonable time to prepare for the day. Along with the fact on mission they would have to get up before the sun rise on most days.

Also, he especially liked to watch his teammates get up, it was entertaining in different ways from Nora crashing out of bed, to Ren rising from a blanket cocoon, and Pyrrha’s silly little death threats to any man stealing bitches out there.

He tended to wake them up with a gentle approach putting hand on there shoulders and carefully shaking them awake. He had forgotten how strong he was a couple of months ago when he sent Nora flying into a wall by accident, so had tried to be gentle.

The rest of Team Jnpr had learned a couple months ago that they no longer had a choice in waking up early, the only choice was before the sun was up or after.

Jaune put on his uniform for class, he frowned a little bit, as it was tighter than it was yesterday. Maybe it’s new? Guess it needs to be broken in.

Team RWBY met them at breakfast, Ruby refused to let her other bestie get ahead in the leader game by letting just JNPR get up early! Jaune didn’t notice but he often got murderous glances from Blake.

Eating breakfast Jaune felt a crick in his back so he leaned back.

Pop-pop-pop-pop, RIIIIP!

His buttons on his shirt fired off like a machine gun shattering against the walls of the cafeteria, and then his shirt fell to pieces, revealing his sculpted torso, arms and abs.

“Ahh man, I liked that shirt.” Then continued eating, not aware of the stares his friends, other students, and Ms. Goodwitch were giving his body, eyeing him up as much or more than he used to do to them.

AN: If this Jaune was ever put into a situation where couldn’t exercise for like a week, his libido would come back with vengeance and make him a unstoppable sex monster. That said, what are the odds of that happening?

#Jaune Arc #Not quite crack #Slight Himboification #Team JNPR #Team RWBY #Glynda Goodwitch

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

Prompt: NHS non-fatally qi deviates. How do NMJ and the others take that?

ao3

Untamed

It had always been something of a behind-closed-doors debate – a chicken-and-the-egg problem, what came first, what was the cause and what was the symptom.

Was the Nie sect’s atypical cultivation method the reason behind the notorious Nie temper? Or were they born with the temper, and the cultivation method merely built upon that? Which one was the reason for their clan’s tendency towards early qi deviations?

Nie Huaisang usually threw his money on the “blame the cultivation style”, almost entirely for the sake of pissing off his brother.

He was starting to think, though, that he’d been wrong.

Aituan wasn’t even anywhere nearby, after all, when he started bleeding out of his qiqiao, his qi disordered and violently raging inside of him and still somehow, somehow not enough to assuage the rage in his heart, in his head –

“Nie-xiong! Nie-xiong! Nie Huaisang!”

Nie Huaisang turned with a snarl, but Wei Wuxian was already holding up his hands in surrender, Jiang Cheng quickly following suit a second later, and in the end he wasn’t really angry at them.

“I’m pretty sure you’re done,” Jiang Cheng said cautiously. “You’re – you are done, right?”

“I dunno,” Wei Wuxian muttered. “I don’t think Wen Zhuliu is entirely paste yet – there’s still a few bones Nie-xiong hasn’t crushed down into dust…”

“Shut up.”

“I will not.”

The familiar bickering was soothing, like slipping into a hot bath at the end of a tough day – like arguing with his brother about silly things, scoring a clever point and getting one of his brother’s rare smiles. Nie Huaisang felt his shoulders relax a little, and he lowered the stick –

“Why am I holding a stick?” he asked blankly, looking down at it. He didn’t remember picking it up at any point. “And why is it…uh…”

“Covered in the blood and guts and possibly brain matter of your enemy?”

Nie Huaisang swayed, suddenly light-headed. “…that,” he agreed, voice weak.

He slowly became aware that there was something squishy and wet under his feet, soaking into his shoes, and he very carefully did not look down.

“What happened?” he asked faintly. “What did I – actually, on second thought, don’t tell me.”

Jiang Cheng’s expression was a strange mix of being impressed with him and pitying him, and honestly Nie Huaisang preferred the pity. No one was impressed with him, not ever, and in retrospect he rather liked it that way, if the alternative was…

“You defeated the Core-Melting Hand in one-on-one combat,” Wei Wuxian said. “Congratulations.”

Nie Huaisang gaped at him.

“Don’t you remember?” Jiang Cheng said, blinking at him. “He said something about your brother, and you suddenly lost it –”

Nie Huaisang remembered, suddenly, and he felt a sickening lurch in his stomach as his vision flickered red around the edges again, and he imagined he could hear Aituan shouting his name from thousands of li away. How dare that man, that stone-face bastard who looked so long-suffering and yet underneath it all was so cruel and unfeeling – how dare he say such a thing about his da-ge –

Nie Huaisang had been angry the entire time he’d been here at the indoctrination camp.

Really angry, not the silly little temper tantrums he usually threw back at home or the occasional shouting matches he had with his brother to vent steam. He hated it here. He hated the fact that he was here in the Nightless City, the one place his brother had always refused to bring him no matter how embarrassingly impolitic it was, the place Sect Leader Wen had murdered his father over a stupid dinner table conversation. He hated the fact that his brother had tried to protect him, and failed only because he’d gotten distracted by Meng Yao of all people.

(He hated the fact that he’d had to learn that fact from one of his retainers, weeks too late and him already gone to the Nightless City, too late to apologize or make it up; hated the fact that the last words he’d said to his da-ge on the subject were cruel ones, blaming him for sending away his friend, when in fact his friend had torn off his face to reveal something dark beneath. He hated that his brother had just taken those cruel words from him, suffered under his accusations, without defending himself from them, because he blamed himself for – for what? For being just, the way he was supposed to be? For protecting him?)

He hated the Yin metal, the vile corruption he could feel for all that they were in a different part of the palace. He hated Wen Chao making them memorize and recite, which he was terrible at, and he hated him for making them do it outside in the hot sun and the hot earth until he fainted from heatstroke, his weak golden core insufficient to protect him the way the others did them.

He hated Wen Ruohan, he hated Wen Chao, and he hated, hated, hated Wen Zhuliu.

Most of the boys at the indoctrination camp had gotten the idea that he wasn’t that bad, for all that he was terrifying, because he always looked so bored about everything, like he was having to fulfil all of this as a torturous duty instead of a pleasure, but he’d been the one to carry Nie Huaisang back inside after he’d fainted and he’d said some things about his brother then, when Nie Huaisang was too weak to do anything, and today he’d come by, watching Nie Huaisang struggle to set up the small tent he’d been given for their travels, and he’d said them again…

“He wanted to steal my brother’s cultivation,” Nie Huaisang said through numb lips. His hands were clenched, quivering with rage that was impossible to bury down in his heart – was this how his brother felt all the time? No wonder he was so straightforward about most things; forget scheming, it was amazing he could even think. “He wanted – he didn’t even think of him as a person. Just dirt beneath his feet, fruit ripe for the plucking, some animal he could slaughter as a prize to give to his wretched master –”

He’d even said, today, that they could use what was left over as a corpse puppet, and chuckled when he thought of what the great Chifeng-zun would have thought of that.

Nie Huaisang had been angry ever since they’d arrived, full of bile and choler and rage.

His family never did handle their rage well.

“You had a minor qi deviation,” Wei Wuxian said solemnly, looking at him. “You’re still bleeding – your eyes, your nose, your ears…We need to get you to a doctor.”

“We need to hide the body before anyone finds it, that’s what we need to do,” Jiang Cheng said.

“We can do both! Multitasking!”

He was very lucky to have such good friends, Nie Huaisang thought to himself, and toppled over.

He woke up back in the sorry excuse for a camp, with Wen Qing acting as his doctor and Wen Ning as her assistant, taking care of him (it had taken an embarrassingly long while before Nie Huaisang remembered their names, for all that they’d come to lessons at the Cloud Recesses, too, both of them, and even though they’d all gone on a whole mission to the village with the goddess statute together afterwards, but in his defense he was really bad at memorizing - anything), and while Wen Qing kept herself nice and professional, Wen Ning kept shooting him extremely impressed looks that Nie Huaisang didn’t think he deserved.

He hadn’t actually defeated the Core-Melting Hand in one-on-one combat, no matter what Wei Wuxian said. He’d launched a surprise attack at the back of a man who wasn’t expecting it, because no one ever expected anything from Nie Huaisang.

“You have remarkable arm strength,” Wen Qing said (she had looked amused when he asked about her name, blushing with shame), sounding casual but clearly fishing a little. “It’s hidden by your thin frame, and even further minimized by your choice in clothing, but actually you have significant muscle there.”

“Saber practice,” Nie Huaisang explained. “Sabers are heavier than swords, and rely more on brute force. At home, you train a lot with heavy things even before you get your own saber, just to make sure you can wield it properly – you have to have a good arm.”

He’d been barely mediocre by his sect’s standards, and even that level he’d only achieved through years of nagging, threatening, and occasional bribery on his older brother’s part. He shouldn’t have been able to win, but Wen Zhuliu hadn’t even been looking at Nie Huaisang when he’d said what he said, hadn’t seen the moment he’d snapped and attacked, his disordered qi giving him extraordinary strength even as it turned against him to destroy him internally, and if there was one thing that saber style taught you it was not to let someone who’d fallen to your blade get up again.

(Had his brother brought out Baxia against Meng Yao, before deciding to let him go? He couldn’t help but wonder – it was bad luck if he had, a severing of the relationship in an unfixable way, but he wasn’t sure his brother would be strong enough to resist trying to repair it if Meng Yao ever came back. Where was Meng Yao, anyway?)

Attacking a man from behind wasn’t really honorable, he thought glumly, and he thought he understood for the first time why his brother was so strict about such things: it didn’t feel good to have done it this way. It felt like cheating, made every approving gaze feel like a lie, like something he didn’t deserve.

“So what happens now?” he asked, and Wen Qing shrugged a little helplessly. “Does, uh…”

“Wei-gongzi and Jiang-gongzi are hiding the remains,” Wen Ning volunteered. He looked way too cheerfully when he said ‘remains’. Possible budding mass-murderer? Or maybe he’d just been a doctor’s assistant for too long. “Wen-er-gongzi hasn’t noticed yet – he’s still with Wang Lingjiao.”

“But he will notice,” Nie Huaisang said.

“As long as he doesn’t blame any of you, does it matter?” Wen Qing said.

“…if you have an example of Wen Zhuliu’s handwriting, I can probably forge it to look like a note saying he was summoned back by Sect Leader Wen.”

Wen Qing and Wen Ning exchanged looks he didn’t quite understand, but they brought him what he needed, and by the time they got trapped in a horrible underground cave with a gigantic man-eating Xuanwu the next day, Wen Chao still hadn’t figured it out, though he’d been in an awful mood the entire time.

“Why are you sitting down?” Jiang Cheng scolded him even as he dashed around fighting Wen sect soldiers, and see, this was why Nie Huaisang didn’t ever fight. It only made people expect him to do it more – Jiang Cheng hadn’t scolded him at all for hiding behind things before…

Before.

“Leave him alone,” Jin Zixuan said. He hadn’t been there, so he still looked disdainful and dismissive; it was amazing how much of a relief that was. “He can’t help anyway.”

“But –”

“My head hurts,” Nie Huaisang said plaintively, and it had the benefit of being both true and working very effectively to get Jiang Cheng to head as far away from him as possible in a sudden rush. After a while, he got up and picked up one of the swords some unfortunate Wen sect retainer had dropped.

“I have no idea what I’m doing with this,” he said, very seriously, to yet another unfortunate Wen sect retainer, before lifting it and bringing it down, saber-style, the way his brother had all but beaten into his head.

That one didn’t seemed like he was expecting it, either, even though Nie Huaisang was right in front of his face and everything.

It felt a bit better, though – Aituan didn’t like the Wen sect one bit, he thought a little muzzily, and wondered why he’d thought that, since after all Aituan was all the way back at home – and he was a little less ashamed to stand with the rest of them as they tried to figure out a way out of the cave.

“You probably shouldn’t do that,” he said to the Lan disciple who picked up a bow and was trying to aim it at the Xuanwu. “You’ll miss.”

The Lan disciple glared at him.

“Not as bad as I would, mind you,” Nie Huaisang said, looking at it. He felt as though he was standing behind a pane of glass and nothing could touch him - not pain or fear or anything, anything but rage. “I’d probably miss the turtle entirely. I’m just saying that it’s angry now, so the shot’s a lot harder to make; maybe five people could make that shot.”

“Lan-er-gongzi could make it.”

“Yes, well, Lan-er-gongzi isn’t human,” Nie Huaisang said, quite seriously, and the Lan disciple’s lips twitched. “Seriously, don’t waste your time – or your arrows. If you’re anywhere good enough at archery to even think that you could make that shot, you need to keep them to protect me.”

“Are you in need of protection?”

“Oh, always,” Nie Huaisang said blithely, the way he always did, then paused and grimaced. “Most of the time, anyway. I got sick, earlier.”

He was pretty sure the Lan disciple didn’t understand what he meant by sick.

“You don’t really want me to protect you,” the disciple said, frowning. “Do you?”

Nie Huaisang wanted everyone to protect him. He never wanted to fight again in his life.

But the Lan disciple looked like he was a little pleased to have been asked, like no one had ever asked him before, and Nie Huaisang suddenly felt a sudden stab of empathy hitting him straight in the heart.

“I do. I’m pretty sure all the other Nie disciples here are short-range fighters –” His brother had sent as few of them as he could manage, and only sent any at all because he wanted someone there to keep an eye on Nie Huaisang. To protect him. “– and they’re mostly hotheaded idiots –” That was definitely true. “– and I really, really don’t want to end up in another situation where I get sick again, because my brother will never forgive me. So I could use an archer.”

“…okay,” the Lan disciple said. “I’m Su She.”

Nie Huaisang nodded. “I promise to apologize to your sect later on for taking up your time.”

He managed not to be sick the entire journey home.

Maybe it was an aberration, he thought, maybe –

When he got home, his brother was holding Aituan in his hand instead of Baxia – she was in her sheath on his back – and he rushed over to him at once, presenting the saber to him before he did anything else; confused, Nie Huaisang accepted his saber, wondering if he was going to need to go practice or something, and the second his hand wrapped around the hilt –

Oh.

His head abruptly cleared, the fog he hadn’t even realized was there finally lifting, the rage draining out of him and back into Aituan – not an especially angry saber, as they went, but still a Nie saber with all that entailed. His qi finally, finally straightened out, stabilized, and he felt like he could breathe again, his mind free and clear now that he had a saber in his hand.

Like all the other Nies before him.

Doomed.

And then he was in his brother’s arms, being held tight.

“Oh, Huaisang,” his brother said, and his voice sounded raw and broken, almost as if he’d been weeping. “I never wanted this for you.”

Nie Huaisang hugged him back.

“It’s okay,” he said, and the buzzing in the back of his head that was Aituan agreed with him. He’d been there the whole time, ever since the first incident; it didn’t matter how far away from each other they were. “It was a small one, it passed, it’s fine…”

It wasn’t fine, and they both knew it – Nie Huaisang might not know the details of all their clan secrets, but he knew enough to know what it was he was so carefully not knowing – but what was there to say?

It was still his family. It was still his heritage.

(He wondered what Meng Yao would say, if he knew. He wondered if he would pull his saber back the way his brother had, if Meng Yao ever betrayed him.)

“At least I can help fight now,” he said, joking, and his brother glared at him.

“Not a chance,” he said. “You’re going to go somewhere safe. You can go with –”

“Su She.”

“– with Su She back to the Cloud Recesses; it’ll be more secure there than here.”

It was about what Nie Huaisang had expected.

“Okay,” he said. “But not now.”

His brother’s eyes flickered down to his saber. His lifeline.

“No,” he said. “Not now.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #su she #nie mingjue #wen ning #wen qing #my fic #my fics #I actually wrote this before the other Su She one #funny to see how things develop over time #Anonymous

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