#unfortunately i also discovered how truly fucked up my knees are but worth it

[aeide-thea]

This is a gentle request for any Geraskier fics you want to rec, because the number of them in the tag is a bit overwhelming but I KNOW there are gems in there 👀

i’m pretty sure i’ve reblogged things in the past! but it’s true that i haven’t done that in any systematic way, so—let’s see. under the cut are 20-ish recs alphabetized by author, which seemed like a good way of avoiding having to make any hierarchical declarations:

o, empathy by almostnectarine/@nectarine-pit: bodyswap! i forgot how much i loved this fic. geralt and jaskier walk a mile in each other’s shoes, and learn to appreciate each other better; this is keenly observed and thought-through, and frequently extremely funny. a thoroughgoing delight.

Jaskier pulled a face and swiveled the straps such that both swords almost fell from their scabbards at once, ruining the moment. “Geralt,” he said, “this leather itches. You’ve lived five lifetimes—” “Not that old,” said Geralt, in protest, and then, considering: “Maybe three.” “—and you never once thought, hm— oh, I see why you do that all the time, it is quite fun, isn’t it— hm, maybe I’ll add a little padding?!” His mimicry of Geralt’s tone was very good, although perhaps it was cheating, when the voice was already the same.

public displays of affection by autoschediastic/@bluesoaring: geralt and jaskier go to a sex party! (not to be confused with the other fic by sospes in which geralt and jaskier go to a sex party, which is also excellent.) if that wasn’t enough of a sell, well, you confuse me, but—the flavor of the power dynamic here is a little complex and unusual in a way i enjoyed, plus frankly the description of geralt stripped down for this party is really, uh. really A Lot. i admit to being biased in favor of sex party stories in general but this one is definitely a keeper.

to you always, also by autoschediastic/@bluesoaring: in which geralt is a demanding, insatiable bottom. ...honestly, this fic has significantly more emotional weight to it than that description might suggest, but i still stand by it. also the initial setup is just really funny to me, because jaskier getting hilariously outraged by geralt’s sheer infuriating geralt-ness is, like, my fave flavor of jaskier. (that’s a lie, every flavor of jaskier is my favorite flavor of jaskier, but i do really delight in this one.)

@blossomsinthemist’s mixing memory and desire series (wip) is basically my favorite thing ever, like, just truly perfectly crafted to please me personally. it’s h/c, and just astonishingly luxuriant and languorous and lovely—or, okay, let me actually just quote a comment i left on an early chapter:

this is just so exquisitely tender and molasses-lovely-sweet so far, my god the glimpses we get dimly through geralt’s hazy bemused perception of what jaskier’s feeling are so heart-clenchingly poignant—and then of course the glimpses of what geralt himself is feeling for jaskier without understanding it, this stunned rapt gratitude for everything jaskier is doing but also everything jaskier is, the lovely gentle sturdy solicitous gift he is & keeps making of himself to geralt, who would probably call it undeserved except that of course we can see precisely what in geralt has tugged this tenderness from jaskier, this terrible aching wounded gallantry that’s so astonished to meet with respite…

the meet death sitting (wip) series by @bomberqueen17 is my other favorite thing—much plottier than the previous, with a much wider cast of characters, and while i’m ultimately in it for the geralt/jaskier and therefore being strung along in exquisite agony while all sorts of plot things get in the way of any real resolution of that, it’s honestly worth it; what you lose in immediate gratification you gain in, like, a sense that this story inhabits a real, full world, with real events that aren’t just arranged to suit our heroes’ convenience. if i could only get you to read two things it would be this series and the previous one: between them they have my heart. anyway i guess i may as well quote myself again:

it’s the rich realistic interweaving of things that’s so remarkable here, how the absolute throat-thickening aches run abruptly up against the entirely mundane and all of it has to be coped with, because that’s life, and this story has life within it, in a realer way than probably anything else in the fandom, maybe anything else i’ve read in a long time. and of course a large part of me is so, so desperate for geralt and jaskier to finally come back together, with enough time and space to settle into a mutual secure tenderness instead of the current wordless, longing, poised-always-to-spring-away-like-deer-in-a-forest situation; but the story is coaxing me into a more adult patience, an appreciation for the smaller quieter incidental pleasures that aren’t the one subsuming great love, and then also teaching me to live with the wounds one inevitably acquired along the way, the pull and ache of those that makes the whole thing real, not a shining fantasy but a homely pie with a rich satisfying filling, savory and bolstering.

my body bruises at your touch by @brawlite: jaskier gets tied up by geralt as bait for the monster of the week, and discovers he likes it quite a bit. smut (and then aftercare) ensues.

demand an encore (wip) by emamel/@theaceace: jaskier is a witcher of the viper school, or used to be. he doesn’t remember it, but geralt does.

it’s been a while since i read this, but the way the layers slowly start fitting together is really satisfying: all the joy of what i think the kids call ‘identity porn,’ with the twist that here, it’s geralt who knows both identities, and jaskier who’s still in ignorance. ugh, i want chapter 3 now.

musica universalis by flirtygaybrit is bookverse and clearly so—it’s not romantic, but there’s a particular ambiguous flavor of solicitous tenderness that elevates this ‘friendly drunken hookup’ scenario to something memorable for me.

of cherries and dandelions by heyriel: in which a still-virginal jaskier bites off more than he can chew, and tries to disguise it until he can’t anymore. as i said to the author:

this is lovely and realistic in its navigation of, like, trying to Be Cool and the ways that can sometimes get you in trouble as a young sexplorer—geralt is so good to jaskier here and i’m having feelings about it!

also geralt uses a dildo on jaskier, which was not a thing i’d known i wanted before reading this, but it turns out i’m very decidedly here for it! i haven’t seen a ton of sex toys in geraskier fic and this story makes me wish there were more.

gentle-sharp and strange by lisztful has some excellent touch-starved pining geralt, also a performatively public bath scene with very satisfactory sexual tension, also an Ancient Tradition which is maybe the thing i remember most about this fic.

i know that you would want it (if i could sink my teeth into you) by objectlesson is... look, there’s an actual emotional arc to this story, but really what i always remember about it is that it’s got the most overwhelmingly visceral rimming scene i’ve maybe ever read? it’s a lot, it’s a gift, go read it.

@pasdecoeur has several stories that are very funny with some very piercingly erotic moments! briefly sketched in some ways and more pining than porny but no less effective for it.

benefits by @shastafirecracker is a pwp story in which jaskier is first surprised to find geralt wants him to top, and then determined to give geralt the best dicking he’s ever had. jaskier’s inner dialogue in this one is really fun; geralt’s exterior dialogue is true to the show in that it’s minimal but nonetheless includes a bad pun. :)

even a small love by shecrows/@leighway is like. you think you know how things are going to go, and then jaskier balks and it abruptly swerves sideways and develops a whole plot, and then comes back around to where it started, but deeper and better. don’t you love how you can summarize a fic without saying anything meaningful or even helpful about it? anyway: read this one.

snowmelt by silklace/@silkcoeur is a/b/o and somehow both extremely hilarious and extremely hot in full measure. the banter is a fucking delight but so are the tension/sex/feelings.

It wasn’t until they were well on the road away from town that it really hit him, though possibly he should have been paying attention to the way the backs of his knees had started sweating the minute he’d seen Geralt walking towards him outside of Yennefer’s manor, or to the way his throat had gone hot and dry despite the taste of sweetness still on the back of his teeth from the wine skin he’d pilfered from her pantry on his way out. In his defense, he’d still been recovering from spending the prior evening steadfastly spitting his insides up onto his outsides. Also, he tended to always get a little sweaty around Geralt, a fact they were both apparently extremely united in assiduously pretending was not happening.

the sevenfold path by star_flaming/@europeansdomusicalsbetter: in which jaskier is demonstrably extremely well educated, and geralt has feelings about it. (i also have feelings about it, but mine are in my pants.)

you are in my blood by @suzukiblu​: au where jaskier is a bruxa. this alters his character significantly—hard to be too skittish about bloodletting when you’re a vampire!—but the story’s so engaging you probably won’t care? plus, uh, hot. :)

Jaskier’s just debating how much trouble he’s actually in when Geralt, marvelously, talks them out of it. After that, well... Jaskier still wants to eat him very badly, but he supposes it’d be a bit ungrateful of him. Geralt isn’t very impressed with the song he writes for him, unfortunately—which, rude—but doesn’t try to run off and leave him either, so.. Well, Jaskier’s a bit smitten. A delicious-smelling witcher who can talk his way out of being murdered is very impressive. And he always has wanted a pet.

taran (@iamtaran)’s manhandling without plot series has no sex but lots of violent, compellingly visceral hijinks and i like to think of it as preslash. three times geralt hauls jaskier out of trouble.

Jaskier is flat on his back with his chemise rucked up to his armpits, salve burning on his bruised ribs, breathing hard; he is drunk, but not nearly as drunk as he was when he threw that first punch; Geralt is stupidly strong and has him pinned beneath one hand and the sheer girth of his own hips, looking grumpy and short on patience, and under everything—the aromatic menthol and chamomile smell of the salve, the aching of his cheek and lip, the relief of seeing Geralt just as upright and uninjured as he had been when he left, Jaskier is… He had thought he was furious. He still is, somewhat. Like… like a seed is a flower. It was, at first, before it became something else. And given enough time it might become such again. It is what it is in the meantime, however. Fury. Seeds.

last but not least, @toyhto​ has a bunch of fics that crack me the fuck up: geralt is unbelievably oblivious to his own emotions even as he acts on them, and it’s just—it’s so, so funny. also sometimes quite sweet, and sometimes quite painful! there’s a particular air of, i don’t know, almost see-spot-run impenetrability to the writing here that lends itself perfectly to the thing the stories are doing, where geralt is just operating totally on a surface level and, like, feelings are moving in the deep but he can’t quite see them...

...and that’s all for now! more to come later, maybe; but this seems like plenty for a first pass, and anyway i’m blurbed out.

#the witcher #geraskier #fic #recs

[exobyharu]

PCY - Ch2

Chapter 2: Sometimes, it works that way

(Part 1)...(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6)

Summary: Chanyeol vs the world and Chanyeol vs himself, featuring his well-planned attempts at damage-control. You don’t make it too easy for him.

⏰ 11:12 AM 🌏 Hotel (S), City of (L), but you transferred to the 38th floor now 🌤 Sunny, summer morning, and it’s almost as sunny as Chanyeol’s mood 👥 YN, Park Chanyeol, Kim Jongin (mentioned), Kim Junmyeon (mentioned), Chanyeol’s sister (mentioned)

Notes: This is part 2 of my PCY series. Hope some of you like it! He’s much nicer (to you) now, at least at the end (sort of). PCY may have dropped a couple of curse words here and there, but that’s all I have to warn you about. PCY says he’s sorry!

Words: ~1,900

💙💙💙

Chanyeol hated it, that his new composition was turned down yet again, by their over-qualified and impossible-to-please producers at SM Entertainment because, for probably the fourth time this month, it’s about time you stopped making your lack of experience show in your love songs, no matter how heartfelt you think your lyrics are.

He also hated it, that his sister borrowed his Mercedes Benz without permission, and only called to inform him that she had unintentionally defaced it once again by crashing it against a tree – and it’s even the same tree as last time.

Jongin also left a voice message earlier that evening to tell Chanyeol that he had misplaced the keys to the private studio. But it’s okay and there’s no need to panic because the interns and some staff members volunteered to help me look for it. Jongin apologised for always losing and breaking his senior’s belongings and promised that he won’t let anything like that happen again. Newsflash: Chanyeol hated his promises too.

When all of that happened in a span of three hours, along with Baekhyun’s persistent calling and mindless whining as the sweet cherry on top, it was only last night that Chanyeol finally discovered how things would blow up.

There’s a distinction between a bad mood and an ill temper, he would constantly remind himself. There is a limit to what behaviour is acceptable. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that he forgot to give himself the pep talk recently. This was why his adviser’s worst nightmare finally came true: Last night, on the balcony of this suite room, Chanyeol abandoned all caution, emptied himself of patience, and mindlessly acted on his frustrations as if the world owed him a proper outburst.

The rapper was weak on his knees when he remembered how he lost his shit and ended up taking it out on whom he thought was one of their group’s obsessive fans. What made it worse was that you apparently turned out to be an unsuspecting stranger who was not even up to anything remotely intrusive. Chanyeol was certain that whatever transpired from last night’s interaction with you was most probably typed out already, in some group chat or online page and it was only a matter of hours before his phone was ringing to a call from his enraged manager or worse, from Junmyeon, who always preferred to express his brotherly concern by packaging it as a mouthful of obscenities instead.

Much like last night, Chanyeol spent the early hours of the day, collapsed on the suite’s ridiculously oversized bed, pondering and unable to think of answers for his life’s profound existential questions.

How many ex-girlfriends did he need on his badge to write a love song that would pass SM’s extensive quality control? What kind of genius did Jongin have to be in his past life to be so remarkably scatter-brained now? Bench presses were bench presses. How was he going to teach Baekhyun how to cheat on his reps when he, himself, never did? Most importantly, why was his sister such a terrible driver?

The whole process was mostly a one-way conversation with the luxurious finish of his suite room’s coffered ceiling because much like the answers he could not produce for himself, he had to accept that some things in general were simply beyond his control.

He could try to cut down that stupid tree, though. The dumb task was two bumper repairs overdue.

With newfound resolve, he also made sure that he spent the next few hours after his morning shower rehearsing the, albeit extra kind, words that he would use when explaining to his manager, to Junmyeon, or even to the company’s CEO, if you had managed to blow the whole thing out of proportion. When he called for room service to have breakfast delivered, he even inquired about how to send a massive bouquet of flowers to the occupant of the suite room beside his, simply because fuck ups like last night were not allowed to be in Park Chanyeol’s record. Ever.

About a few minutes later, a delicious tray of espresso waffles and sides finally arrived at his doorstep, along with a message that the suite room right beside his had been emptied just last night. It was at this moment upon hearing the hotel staff’s message about the female occupant transferring to another room, that the rotting sensation at the center of his chest returned in an instant. He ended up not eating much of his breakfast and crushing his face against the silk on his pillow seemed to be the best course of action instead.

This is all your fault, so you fix, he thought incoherently, hoping that blaming himself again brought more clarity. He thought back to last night, trying to remember how much he had told you and if it were truly enough to rile you up, prompt you to file a report, and transfer to another room.

He could not even recall if he said a couple of bad words or not.

Pursing his lips as he walked the tightrope in between discouragement and desperation, it did not take long for him to decide to give it a go and call the front desk. Even though he was familiar with hotel policies, and even though it was another item on his endless list of things that he hated, not to mention too much against his principles, it looked like he was willing to overlook the misuse of his VIP status to have his way just this once. It was promising that his phone had not buzzed since he had woken up, but the fact remained that it was now, or later, when irreversible damage was done and Dispatch was already camping out at the hotel lobby downstairs.

So he did as he rehearsed, and it was almost nauseating how it took too little effort to get the details that he wanted. Something in his gut roiled when he had to emphasise his name as if his identity were a badge that can be used to proclaim himself qualified to make such a special request. Your full name, YN YLN, along with other personal details that he did not ask for, were disclosed to him without the need to impose or even lie. 

Nevertheless, he got what he needed and Chanyeol hoped that it was worth the brief moment of shamelessness. Again, he comforted himself that damage-control in itself was a pain in the ass. And even though hating himself for resorting to this method was even more exhausting, it had to be done in order to move forward with his plans of setting things straight.

Press 0, and then after the beep, 3815.

He did not expect it, but it plunged his nerves into a state of panic when he started dialling your room number. Maybe he was afraid of you and what you had to say -  more specifically, about how many of your friends already knew about last night’s exchange. Were you even going to speak to him? Did he even want to speak to you? The compromise was to put the phone down after five rings and send the damn flowers instead.

You answered exactly after four long rings. “Hello?”

“Yah!” he yelled, the couple of rehearsed lines he had prepared, instantly forgotten. “Why’d you move?!” His nerves pretty much took over and Chanyeol knew that he was not angry. It was beyond him if this distinction was not clear to you.

Still, your voice on the other end of the line remained impeccably calm. “Um, may I know who this is?”

“It’s Chanyeol.” In his years of performing in front of cameras and audiences, the rapper had never thought that introducing himself could elicit so much frustration.

You paused. “…I’m sorry?”

“You don’t remember last night?!” he yelled again. Immediately, the distant sound of his own voice made him cringe. It was an effort to ignore how it reverberated inside the room. He tried to clarify much more kindly now, but his attempt gloriously failed the moment he started. “It’s Chanyeol! Sexual Fantasies, Park Chanyeol!”

Your sigh that followed was a bit over-dramatic and it looked like he had done it again. “I know, okay?! I mean I know it’s you! You made last night pretty hard to forget, and I don’t mean it the way other girls in your head do. I was just unsure about apologising because you’re the one who explicitly told me to stay out of your way.” You were clearly getting worked up and it was too bad, because so was he.

“And you really thought I meant that?!”

“I still think that, seeing that you wouldn’t stop yelling at me! I only transferred to make the both of us happy, okay?”

“Do I sound happy to you?!” It was not a pleasant feeling to hear you sigh after every sentence because he realised that it was no longer just his reputation on the line. Chanyeol was not called the Happy Virus for nothing and he genuinely felt that he was putting down a lot of people by causing someone else’s distress. Ironically, this infuriated him even more. “You didn’t have to change your room and I’m not happy that you did!”

“Then that makes only me.” Your voice from the other end was dismissive and dripping with contempt. “Looks like your day will suck, Mr. Park, but please, let me enjoy mine.”

“Yah! Don’t put the phone down!”

“Seriously, Chanyeol, what do you want from me?!”

“Just stop hating!”

“I will if you leave me alone!”

“It doesn’t work that way!”

At this point, the conversation became all about talking over the other. It took a few more out of the both of you before Chanyeol realised what an idiot he had been for the past two minutes. Stress had really done a number on him lately.

Relax.

Catching his breath in the brief silence that ensued, he allowed his pride to crumble in the name of ending all this bullshit between the two of you. He was just tired, more than anything else. Releasing the tightness on his throat, he modulated his voice to suit the tone that he would effortlessly use when speaking to a fan – or his mother.

“Just… meet up with me, will you? There’s this café at the top floor.”

“No thanks. I’ve got stuff to do.”

“What stuff?”

“Stuff that’s none of your business, obviously.”

Your answer made him press a hand to his forehead. You mean stuff that’s non-existent, obviously, he thought with a roll of his eyes. What kind of idiot did you think he was? Though it did not look like much on paper, he decided that all the painful overthinking and planning had already gotten him this far and it was impossible for him to take no for an answer.

“Tonight then? I’ll be there by 7.”

“No, Chanyeol. I won’t be there.”

“That’s great! I’ll wait for you.”

And then he hung up the phone too soon, which was his underhanded way of making sure that you did not have the change to decline any further. What he did was almost rude, but Chanyeol promised to make up for his bad manners tonight instead. Even though he would not consider the conversation a step towards the redemption of his ruined first impression, if he got you to show up, he was sure to not waste his chance. Now, all he had to do was figure out what stunt he was going to pull off in order to make up for being a stupid shit last night.

💙💙💙 - to be continued -

#chanyeol #chanyeol scenarios #park chanyeol #exo scenarios #exo #park chanyeol scenarios #exo fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios

[jadekitty777]

Successive Failure

I’m a little later then I said I would be on this one. I intended to release this one in-between the hiatus, but one of the final scenes was giving me some trouble, but I still hope it was worth the wait! Ever since this volume decided to bring Qrow’s addiction as a more prominent plot point, I wanted to try my hand at a proper introspective piece for him, and this is what resulted.

Rating: K+

Word Count: 6k

Ao3 Link:  Successive Failure

Warnings: Lots of cursing and alcoholism

Summary: No matter how many times Qrow has tried, he has never able to put the bottle down for good. You’d think that’d be his greatest failure in life. You’d be wrong. [A What-If scenario of Volume 6, Chapter 9 – What if Team RWBY found Qrow in a different way]

~

“Give me the strongest you got.” Qrow ordered the moment he sat down.

The bartender’s curvy mustache waggled as he gave him a sharp look over. “You ain’t from around here, are ya bud?”

Annoyance tinged through him. He knew some bartenders were always out looking for the next strange person to talk with; but Qrow certainly wasn’t interested in spilling his life story. “You’re a regular ol’ Sherlock. Can I just get my drink?”

The other was not amused with his attitude, not that many ever were. In answer, he reached under the bar and placed a bottle on the desk. It was pretty unassuming, just a shade of dark-green, with a label on it that read ‘King Taijitu Venom’ on it. The two-headed Grimm hissed at him from underneath the title.  “Argus’ breweries are some of the finest in the world. To the point some of the bottles need special permission to be exported. But this one right here?” He tapped the bottlecap. “Is so potent it’s been illegalized for transport. Only people in Argus can purchase it, and only by the shot.”

As he scanned the words, he quickly discovered why. 67.8 APV. He’d never had anything stronger than 35 before, and it had knocked him on his ass by the end of the night.

He had to admit, it got his interest piqued. “Is it that good?”

“Let’s just say one shot has put even the biggest of guys under the table in the hour. You? I’d give twenty minutes.”

He slid a lien card across the bar, smirking confidently. “That a challenge?”

~

Qrow has had many terrible ideas over the course of his 40-year lifespan. Sneaking from one bar to another to take two shots of pure poison in a bottle somehow only ranked in the top five.

Still, as he wandered around the streets of – where was he again? Didn’t matter. As he wandered the streets, trying to find his way back to the house, he had to wonder why he didn’t try this sooner. He felt great! The liquor had burned like whiskey but tasted as fine as a martini. Worth every bit of the 200 lien it cost him.

“W-Whoa!” Qrow stumbled as the ground underneath him upheaved, grasping onto a light pole to keep himself upright. A bubbling in his chest turned into laughter and he swung himself around it, doing a decent rendition of ‘Singing in the Rain’ in one of those wishy-washy musicals Tai liked to watch. He let go of it, kicking up some snow bunched along the curb of the sidewalk, before tapping and twisting across the road, going on about sunshine in his heart and other such nonsense.

As he twirled once more on his heels, he noticed two bright lights coming towards him. Ah, right, the spotlight! Time for the big finish! He held up his arms, grinning widely, as the lights sped towards him.

“QROW!” The voice – a fan no doubt – was echoed with a great big noise that must have been the baseline reaching the crescendo.

He took a deep breath, ready to belt out the chorus for his audience – when something slammed into his body with enough force to jar his bones and rattle his brain around in his skull. It made the whole world spin.

“What were you doing?!” The voice, his fan, shrieked from above.

He blinked away spots, confused on how he’d suddenly ended up back on the sidewalk. He craned his neck, trying to focus on the tiny lady atop him. As her face came into view, his heart leapt. “Flowerbud?”

“Ruby!” Another, more boisterous, woman yelled, before she came into view. Huh, when had Raven dyed her hair? “Is he alright?!”

Okay. Not Raven. She wouldn’t care about his wellbeing for a millisecond.

“What kind of idiot stands in the middle of traffic like that!” This third lady was much shriller as she came to stand beside not-Raven. Unfortunately, even in his wildest woes of drunkenness, he couldn’t forget the face of a Schnee.

Which had an even more unfortunate side effect of pulling him out of his stupor enough that he realized it was not Summer but his niece hovering above him. It was also her fist that hit him hard enough on the chest that some of the air rushed from his lungs, making his voice squeak ironically when he gasped out, “Pipsqueak?”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Uh,” It took a moment to calculate, “Just two shots.”

“You’re lying!” Something seemed off about Ruby’s voice, but he couldn’t place why. Maybe he was still hearing Summer’s ghost in its tone.

Another hit jolted him from that train of thought. He swiped out for her hands – and was she using her semblance to keep them away from him because he was having an awfully hard time catching them. “Will you cut that out? Everything’s fine.”

“Fine? …Fine?!” He flinched a bit, her voice too loud. “Nothing’s fine! Oscar’s missing, everyone’s upset and you almost got hit by a truck! You, you-!” Lost for words, she just gave a yell of rage, before she was up and storming down the sidewalk, her cloak billowing behind her like a windstorm. After a moment, she gave another cry, kicking a Styrofoam coffee cup so it skittered across the concrete.

He knew something was really wrong though when she fell to her knees, pulling her hood up over her bowed head, wailing loudly.

“Ruby!” Yang hurried over to her.

Above him still, the Schnee and – wait, where’d the fourth come from? – shared a look, before the former nodded her head towards the sisters. “Go on. I’ll get him home.”

“Are you sure?” Blake looked between her and him warily. Not that he cared about that. Not one bit.

“Don’t worry. I’ve… done it before.”

He did however care about his niece who sounded really, really bad. “Kiddo?” He called to her, struggling to get to his feet. By the time he’d managed it though, dainty fingers were wrapping around his bicep, tugging him away from the sidewalk and away from his niece. “Hey, leggo!” His assailant didn’t answer nor concede. He tried to pull away, only to stumble even more when black glyphs appeared under his feet, magnetizing his boots and forcing him to stay on the path. “Ice princess, ya hear me? I said let go! I have to check on Ruby!”

“You’ve done enough.” She wouldn’t even look at him.

He was glad she didn’t because he knew that tone. Had heard it all his life, sewing itself into his head like a song that he couldn’t find the rest of. A tune that just wouldn’t quit replaying those few beats, no matter how many times he tried to distract himself from it.

It was the tone that said: I’m disappointed in you.

~

When Qrow was 30, he had hit rock bottom.

It had been a slow weathering. At first it was simply the pressure of the underground mission, the secrets so few knew looming along his back like a phantom. Then, Raven left, carving a hole in his team and family that not even Summer and her boundless optimism knew how to correct. She didn’t get long to try before her life was stolen next and with it, she might as well have taken Tai’s as he lost himself to grief so endless, no amount of effort could pull him out of the pit he’d fallen into. Qrow, left alone for the first time, felt like he’d lost all semblance of control. Aimless, guideless, he turned to the only thing that could bring him joy anymore, as false as it was.

He was no stranger to drinking. In the tribe, it was common place for twelve-year-olds to be declared men, and with it, were allowed to sip on the neck of a bottle. At Beacon, he made a lot of his connections through rave parties and throwaway dances, always with a cup in hand and praised for his ability to find ‘the good stuff’. Maturity and fitting in, that’s what drinking meant for him.

Until it didn’t anymore. For as much as he scoffed at his sister for it, he knew – whether physically present or not – he was just as good at running away.

As the years progressed, he became more of a master at that than anything else. By the time he’d truly woken up, Tai had gotten a new job as a teacher, Yang was seven, and Ruby was five. And apparently Qrow, drunk, stupid Qrow, was their babysitter.

But that was kind of the thing about black out drinking. He made promises he hardly remembered and had entire weeks months of his memory just splotched out like a gothic painter got a little too eager when they put the paintbrush to his brain.

So when he finally woke up to a puppy he hadn’t even known Tai had adopted yapping incessantly at him and found the house disturbingly empty, nothing but the grooved tracks of the girls’ play wagon disappearing into the forest left behind, he knew he had fucked up. Cursed himself as he rushed out after them, taking to the sky as he prayed to whatever Gods he didn’t believe in at the time that they would just let him be lucky.

Just this once, please, just this one time and he’ll never drink again.

They answered and he got to bring both the girls home that day.

He repaid Them by trying to convince a seven-year-old to keep a secret she shouldn’t have to hold.

Tai found out anyways, because Ruby was too wide-eyed over just how cool she thought her uncle was to understand why she wouldn’t tell her daddy about his brave rescue.

Qrow remembered that day with more clarity than he would have liked, down to the very way Tai manhandled him out of the house and tossed him into the dirt.

“I’m done.” Tai had seethed. He was beyond livid, red in the face and every inch of him shaking as he contained the need to pummel him six feet under. “You either get your fucking act together or you get the fuck out of my house.”

Though he’d later be grateful, the Qrow that day was nothing but indignant as he rose against him, “The fuck? I save your kids and you kick me out?”

“You were supposed to be watching them!” Tai shrilled back. “I’ve tried my best to be patient and understanding and all you do is spit that back in my face! And you know what? I’m tired! I’m tired of giving you extra money every week. I’m tired of calls at 2 A.M to come pick you up from the bar. I’m tired of having to explain to the girls why their uncle is never around, even when he is.”

“At least drinking’s a better excuse then the damn pity party you’re still throwing.” Even as he said it, he knew he had crossed a line, and deserved every bit of the black eye he received for it.

“You know what? Fuck off.” Tai snarled down at him, before turning back for the house. Turning back from him. “You want to go kill yourself, then be my fucking guest!”

“Y-Yeah well-!” Qrow scrambled for a response, digging as dirty as he could go, “I’m sure you’ll be happy to be rid of me! Better off without your bad luck charm hanging around, right?!”

For a moment, it made his brother-in-law pause but when he looked back at him, there was no sympathy, only disappointment. “Wow. Playing the manipulative card? I thought you were better than that.”

And then, to add salt onto the newly cut wound, the door was slammed in his face and Qrow found himself homeless.

He’d like to say he’d immediately cleaned up his act and came back into the house with his tail-feathers tucked between his legs, but that’d be a lie, so he didn’t. In fact, he never told anyone how he spent the next few months, scavenging about and doing less than savory missions for quick cash to feed his addiction.

His second awakening came when he found himself locked in a prison in Vale after trying to steal a six-pack from the grocery store. Nothing was more pathetic than being given his one phone call and realizing he had absolutely no one to dial.

So he called Ozpin, explaining without explaining that he found himself in a bit of trouble and needed some cash. He had expected to be hung up on. He had hoped to be wired the money. What he got was his former headmaster coming down to the station in person to bail him out. And boy, was that ride back to Beacon ever awkward and uncomfortable, Qrow silently wishing he could sink into the leather seats until he disappeared for good.

Oz didn’t ask any questions until they were closed up in his office, making Qrow feel like he was seventeen and about to be scolded for breaking the holographic projectors in the computer lab. Again.

“So, care to tell me what that was all about?” Ozpin asked, pouring him some hot chocolate.

“Don’t suppose I can just say no and accept a week’s detention like the good ol’ days, huh?” Qrow accepted the cup, even if he likely wouldn’t drink it.

He chuckled in return. “I’m afraid not. Being a graduate means I can no longer dole out corporal punishment.” He pushed off from the desk he lent against, saying as he rounded it, “However, I’m still an excellent listener, if you want to talk about anything.”

He stared hard at his reflection in the muddy surface. “Who says I got anything to say?”

The other sat down, humming, “Well, I suppose if you don’t we can merely spend the time catching up. It has been quite awhile since I’ve last seen you.” Qrow slunk down a little more in his seat, pretending he didn’t know why that was. Oz went about pouring his own cup, adding as he did, “It’s a little ironic you showed up, actually. Taiyang called a few days ago, asking if I’d seen you.” Brown eyes peered at him over shaded spectacles. “He’s worried.”

That finally got him to snort, crossing his heels on the edge of the desk. “Yeah. Sure he is.”

There was a sigh, Oz dropping all pretenses that he didn’t already know what was going on. “Qrow, I understand why you might feel that Tai’s actions were out of spite, but-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a burden.” He slumped further, setting the full cup on the floor. “Got it.”

His old headmaster gave him a reproachful look, before sternly saying, “No. You are not the burden, Qrow. Your drinking is. You need to separate yourself from the vice if you hope to beat this.”

Beat it? He could hardly live without it. “Drinking IS part of who I am.”

“Do you truly define yourself in your head as a drunkard?”

“Well… what would YOU define me as?” He challenged right back.

“A huntsman.”

It was so simple.

And yet so wrong.

“Ha, haha!” Qrow smacked his own forehead, craning his neck over the back of his chair as he laughed towards the ceiling. “You got to be kidding me! Oz, I haven’t done an honest mission in years.”

“Then do one.”

“Okay, it was funny the first time, not so much the second time.” He spat.

“I’m being serious.” Oz turned slightly, bringing up a display to the left of him, scrolling through a listing. “How about Grimm control in the western sector? Or escorting the trade lines in Argus?”

“H-Hey.” Panic suddenly clogged his throat, Qrow sitting up straight. “Oz, wait. I’m out of practice.”

Hardly deterred, the man hit a few keys to pull up a new list. “Well, there are certainly plenty of easy rank missions to be done as well. How does transporting rations to stationaries sound?”

“Bad. They all sound bad.” He snapped. When that didn’t even earn him a cursory glance, he smacked the top of the desk. “Oz!”

There was a horrible screech as one of the cogs underneath the glass surface suddenly popped out of place, the rest of the gears coming to an awful, ear-piercing stop. They both looked down at it, Qrow giving a low groan before thumping his forehead on the cold, glass surface.

After a moment, he heard a sigh. “It’s easily fixed Qrow. Other things, I’m afraid, are not. Especially the longer you allow them to remain unrepaired.”

When he turned his head to peer up at him, he didn’t know what to make of the look Ozpin was giving him. It was full of compassion and, worse yet, understanding in a way that made his stomach flip sickeningly. “Look, Oz,” He said as he sat up, “I get what you’re trying to do and I appreciate it, I guess. But, it’s not…��� that bad. The rest of the sentence faltered in his throat. He hadn’t slept in a bed or had a decent meal in weeks.

He tried again. “I can-” Stop? If he had the means to get it, he’d be downing a shot in a heartbeat.

“I don’t-” Need help? He was just in jail, for maiden’s sake!

And as he tried to find a way, any way, to justify himself, to argue for a desire on the worst of days even he hated, he realized he’d run out of excuses.

If he didn’t do something now, then what? How much further could he lose control of his life, until he couldn’t come back from it?

For the first time in a long time, Qrow remembered what it was like to be afraid of himself.

The strength he found to finally speak was tenuous at best, coming out as nothing but a whisper, “I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I?”

Oz’s smile was kind. “We all do things in life we regret. But, it’s not in those errors that we should crucify ourselves. Rather, it’s in those choices we make after those errors that we should judge ourselves.”

And so, Qrow made one.

For the following months, he stuck around Beacon and spent his days in a waking hell as he forced himself through a rough detox. Daily shakes, cold sweats, physical, aching pain that wouldn’t quit no matter how many painkillers he swallowed down. On the worst of them, the ones where the need became so strong he knew he was going to fail himself, he would have Ozpin lock him in the vault, knowing it was the only place his wings couldn’t get him out of.

When he returned to Patch, it was on orientation for Signal’s new school year. He never really felt cut out to be a teacher, but being a headmaster himself, Ozpin was able to secure himself the opportunity, encouraging him to take some time to recover and retrain himself while also helping the future generation do the same. In a few years, Oz told him, he’d want to see him return to the field as a Huntsman once more.

It was the first time in a long time that Qrow felt eager for something that didn’t come in a bottle. After being lost for so long, finally he was able to remember what he had wanted in life. To be a legend, unforgettable and revered.

But, first, there were a few people he needed to make things up to.

Ruby and Yang were simple. Young as they were, they couldn’t grasp the full impact of what had happened that resulted in his sudden disappearance, just the sorrow left behind and the joy of his return. However, blindsided as he was, Taiyang wasn’t so easily swayed, making it clear he’d have to earn his trust back. So used to breaking things in life, Qrow wasn’t even entirely sure how to fix that, but for once, he wanted to. This was the only family he had left, and by Gods, he was going to make sure he kept them. So, he stuck around and proved to Tai, to the girls, and even to himself that he really could be a functional adult and he didn’t need a crutch in life to get by. What had weathered away was rebuilt even slower, but little by little he was invited to spend more time at the house, doing everything from sharing dinners to marathoning series together. Eventually, he started to call it home again.

It wasn’t until Tai gave him permission to train Ruby that he truly felt forgiven though. He’d never taken anything so serious in his life as he did showing his niece how to be the extraordinary huntress he could already tell she would be.

Despite all his efforts though, he never stopped drinking, not really. He couldn’t manage to fully abolish the itch that would bite at his skin whenever the temptation would get to be too much. The most he accomplished was making sure his addition wasn’t the thing running the show anymore. But it was something. Something he could take a measure of pride in and hold onto.

His life was his again and he was going to make the most of it.

At 40, Qrow found himself waking up in a hospital and was hit once more with the realization he had fucked up.

~

Three problems made themselves immediately clear the moment he opened his eyes:

The headache beating across his skull was so terrible, taking a jackhammer to it would have been kinder.

The incessant beeping coming from somewhere in the general vicinity just needed to shut the hell up.

The soft whimpers of someone crying was simultaneously the least bothersome and the most terrible.

The last measure was magnified tenfold when he finally turned to see who it was.

“Ruby?” His tongue felt heavy and slurred, even though he knew he was anything but drunk right now.

She jerked, a startled gasp escaping her. She hurriedly wiped at her face. “Uncle, you’re awake!”

He glanced around the room, at the high-tech gizmos settled against the walls and the IV line going down into his wrist, and a sinking feeling started to settle in his gut as he pieced together where he was. “Why am I here? What happened?”

“When we got back, you were on the floor and you wouldn’t wake up. We thought you hit your head.” Ruby swallowed some, her lip trembling. “We weren’t even sure you were breathing and even when Jaune tried to heal you, you just started to-” Her voice caught and she looked away.

Something in him felt like it was breaking, seeing her cry like this. “Rubes, hey.” He tried to reach out for her, but she dodged his attempt, hurrying for the door.  

“I got to go tell the nurse your awake. He needs to check, things. I’ll be back in a second.” She couldn’t manage to even look at him as she slipped out the door.

It was more than a second, or even a few minutes, and Qrow didn’t have to wonder why. The image of Ruby, strong, surefire, almost unshakeable Ruby, probably holed up in a bathroom somewhere to compose herself because of him left a bad taste in his mouth and a guilt so heavy he was sure it’d crush him. (Gods, he wanted a drink.) The least he could do was try and look a bit more presentable by the time she got back and not like… not like he was dying. He struggled to sit up, but just a few inches sent a ripple of pain through his stomach and he swallowed down the instant nausea before he could throw up over himself. He laid still as much as possible, waiting out the agony until it passed.

Alright, bad idea.

He looked around, trying to think. Some beds came with remote-y things, right? It was Atlas tech but Argus was a close enough neighbor, maybe they’d imported.

He had just spotted a possible candidate to his plight, tucked away in the corner of a side table, when the door opened and in walked his niece and a young man in earth-toned scrubs. A gray and white banded tail curled around him as he approached the bedside.

“Mr. Branwen, it’s good to see you up. I’m Nurse Arma.” Qrow tried not to snort over how on the nose that name was. Unperturbed, the nurse continued, “Let’s sit you up, okay?”

Sure enough, the remote he had been eyeing was the right one, and the gears underneath it whirled, slowly lifted him into a sitting position. Qrow had to shut his eyes against another roil of pain – not just in his gut but all over, like he’d been zapped by a thousand volts of lightning dust.

A hand fell to his arm, pinching lightly. “Looks like you’re mostly hydrated again. How are you feeling?”

He glanced quickly to his niece, hidden in the far corner of the room and still refusing to look at him. “Well, ain’t the worst I’ve ever felt, if you can believe that.”

Arma chuckled, writing some things down on the chart he carried as he looked over one of the nearby machines. “Glad to see the alcohol poisoning didn’t destroy your sense of humor.”

“Wait, what?” The fact hit him like a train wreck. He’d been bad before, but he’d never… “That’s what happened to me?”

The smiles were gone, the other turning away from the IV bag to focus on him. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

Last night? A quick glance at the window told him that the sky was a soft, pale shade. He had grown so accustomed to reading it during his years when a clock and a calendar weren’t exactly common finds in a woodland camp, that he knew it was early morning. “I left one bar to go to another and then, I think there were some lights? That’s it.”

That was apparently not what the nurse wanted to hear as he frowned down at him, before glancing across the room. “Ruby, would you like me to tell him, or would you prefer to?”

She withdrew a little further in her corner, murmuring back, “You can. I can’t say it.”

“Alright.” Arma set his clipboard down on the side table, turning his full attention back to his patient. There was nothing about that piteous look that Qrow liked. “The story I was told is your nieces and her friends were out looking for one of your teammates that had gone missing.” Missing? Who had-? “During their search, one of them spotted you running into the street, right in front of a truck. Your niece here used her semblance to get you out of the way, but you were so intoxicated you couldn’t answer why you’d done it. You don’t remember that?”

Qrow could barely breathe. “I… N-No.” Had he been trying to…?

Oh gods, and Ruby and Yang had both witnessed it.

The armadillo Faunus only nodded and continued, like he wasn’t shaking up Qrow’s entire psyche. “One of them brought you back to the house, before going back out to continue her search, hoping you’d be able to just rest it off. But in the meantime, your blood alcohol concentration continued to rise, until it reached dangerous levels. That was when your teammate that was supposedly missing returned to the house, and he found you lying on the floor, unconscious and unresponsive. He called the rest of your team to notify them of the emergency, and they all rushed back home. One of your other teammates tried to use his semblance to heal you. He didn’t think that it wouldn’t work for a non-physical wound.”

He braced himself as he braved asking, “So, what happened?”

“If I had to guess? His semblance probably jumped your BAC into the highest peak possible.” The man held out his hands like a consolation even as he delivered the blow, “You had a seizure. Two, in fact. One there, and one shortly after you were admitted to ER. During the first one, you bit through your tongue enough that we had to stitch it.” Well, that explained why talking hurt. “The one here was much more severe. You would have asphyxiated on your own vomit had you not have had anyone to clear your airways. After that, the doctor ordered a catheter to clear some of the fluid in your bladder and an IV for the dehydration. We’ve been monitoring your progress overnight. Thankfully, no other complications came up; but, as you can imagine, it was a pretty scary experience. For everyone involved.”

Qrow couldn’t look up anymore, and instead stared down at his trembling hands, feeling the shame and humiliation tangling its way through him. “Yeah…”

He heard a sigh, Arma picking back up the clipboard. “You’re very lucky, Mr. Branwen. Had they been even an hour later, you probably wouldn’t be here anymore.” He stepped towards the doorway, saying as he went. “The doctor will come check on you in a bit and release you once she’s confirmed you’re well enough.”

With him gone, the following silence was almost suffocating. It felt like it took everything it had in him to speak up. “So uh, hey kiddo, what say we order some hospital food and complain about how awful it is?”

No answer.

“Or, maybe a game? I’m sure my Scroll’s somewhere.”

He saw her jaw twitch but her eyes remained stubbornly focused on the window.

His hands curled into the sheets. “Ruby. Say something. Please.”

“You want me to say something?” She said, turning, a storm in her gaze. “Okay. I’ll say something.” She stomped towards him, stopping at the end of his bed and yelled, “Do you know how mad I am at you?!”

“I-”

“No! Shut up!” She cut her hands through the air, her voice rising another octave, enough to make him flinch. “Do you have any idea what it was like, coming back to you just lying on the floor like that? I’ve never been so terrified as I was sitting out in that waiting room, wondering if you were even gonna make it!” She hitched over another breath, tears flowing anew. “What was I gonna do if you died, huh?! What was I gonna tell dad? That his best friend was just too STUPID to control himself? And Yang’s so upset with you, she won’t even come in here!” She lifted her arms up to the ceiling as if to curse the heavens, “I don’t even know I feel! I’m hurt and sad and, and- I just want to shove Crescent Rose through your head!”

As quickly as it was there, the bluster blew out of her, and as her arms fell and her body slumped, Ruby looked almost small again, in a way that made Qrow remember the innocent, little girl who so looked up to him for so many years. Looked at him like her idol and hero and who would go around school telling anyone who would listen about how her uncle was just the best and she was going to be just like him. Who would bounce at the end of his bed, bright-eyed and begging him to tell her another story about his missions or who would don her blanket like a cape and go running down the halls, fighting off imaginary foes.

And in her visage now, he could see that vision of him shattering around her. It pained him, to realize he’d caused it. He never meant to fail her too.

Ruby sniffled, saying to the tiles, “I know what Professor Ozpin did hurt you, Uncle, and it’s been real hard for you. But you were wrong about something.” She looked up, catching his gaze and holding it in a way she couldn’t before. “You said no one wanted you, but that’s not true. I will always want you to be a part of my life.” The words struck him in the chest, and he couldn’t breathe again. “If dad and Yang were here, they’d say the same. I know you think you’re unimportant and unneeded, and I think you focus so hard on that you can’t always see it, but you are family. And us losing you will break it more than you think it will.”

Qrow twisted the sheets in his hands. “Ruby, I-” His voice faltered. Fuck.

“I just…” She lowered her head. “I don’t know what else to do, uncle. What am I doing wrong?”

His eyes widened.

“If I could just figure out how to-”

“Stop.” Though his voice had been firm he barely felt steady, everything around him ready to upheave. He watched the way his knuckles turned white, the way his arms trembled. The way a single droplet fell from his chin, splotching a wet spot into the sheets. “Look. I know you want me to say I’ll just quit and everything will just be fine. But, I’ve been trying for years. I… don’t know how. To stop.” He chuckled bitterly, hitching over a sob. He couldn’t remember the last time things hurt this bad. “It’s like my semblance. I don’t want it, but I can’t get rid of it, either.” In the corner of his eye, he could see the blur of red growing closer. “But none of this is your fault, kiddo. All this? Being here today? It’s on me and me only. You, Yang, Tai?” He finally looked up at her. “You guys aren’t the reason I fail. You’re the reason I try at all.”

This time, when she hugged him, he didn’t try to pull away like he had at the farm. Instead, he sighed and sunk into it, enjoying the rare warmth and comfort it brought, even if he wasn’t sure he deserved it.

“Uncle Qrow?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Qrow blinked his eyes open, staring at the silver rose-patterned emblem pinned to Ruby’s coat, seeing his reflection in it. He smiled weakly back at it. “Yeah kiddo, love ya too.”

~

Qrow stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting the last button to his dress shirt. “Gotta say, my normal clothes are definitely more comfortable than that scratchy gown y’all threw me in.”

“I’ll lodge a complaint with the fashion department, just for you.” Arma quipped, placing a tray on the side table, nodding to it. “Your personal artifacts.”

“Thanks.” He still felt sore and his tongue was a definite mess – he’d decided to take a look at it the moment he had access to a mirror – but after a small meal and enough water to fill a lake, his nausea and his headache had both tempered. Enough for the doc to clear him for release.

“Take care, Mr. Branwen.” Arma headed for the exit but as he reached the threshold, he paused, looking back. “And… for your sake, I hope I don’t see you back here.”

“Yeah, me nether kid.”

Once he’d left, Qrow crossed over to the table, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He pocked his scroll. Slowly slipped back on his bracelets. Then his rings. And, finally, his necklace. All the while avoiding the largest item there until it was all that was left.  

He sighed, reaching out and picking up the flask, hearing the slosh as he did. It triggered the itch, the one that left his skin tingling, his mouth watering.

If drinking two glasses of the strongest alcohol in the world was only in the top five worst things he’d ever done, he was pretty sure him undoing the cap of his flask was vying for the number one slot.

“You’re such an idiot.” He whispered as he lifted it.

~

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, following the signs down the hall to the lobby. It wasn’t hard to spot Ruby, between her standout clothing and her high-pitched voice shouting his name as she waved him over.

“Gee, glad the whole cavalry didn’t come running.” Qrow jibed.

She shoved him for it. “They’re outside. The staff doesn’t like a lot of us, uh, ‘weapons-toting kids’ hanging around.”

“Well, at least we’re already here when firecracker decides to deck me right back through the front door.”

“Uncle…” She reprimanded as she turned for the exit.

He followed after her. “Bet you five lien she does it.”

“That’s awful!” A beat, then Ruby smirked. “How about a box of chocolate-chip cookies instead?”

“Deal.” He chuckled, throwing an arm across her shoulders as they walked through the doorway.

~

Back in room 104, it wouldn’t be discovered until the orderly finished cleaning up the room.

Left upturned in the sink just outside of the bathroom was single item.

A metal flask, the last droplet of alcohol having drained out of it some time ago.

#qrow branwen #ruby rose #ozpin #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

[jessikahathaway]

Cornfields

Holy shit, an update. Sorry it’s not Owner guys, I swear I’m working on it! But for now, enjoy Yoongi as an awkward as fuck alien. 

DON’T OWN THE PHOTO

Traveling through space with an alien was weird.

Like, being a human aboard a spaceship was unheard of in these times, but it happened...

It started like any other, dark and kinda cold. You lay in bed, contemplating what the following months would bring. Dreading the day you’d pick your marriage partner. The human species was slowly going stagnant. If the race did nothing, humans were going to die out, and that apparently wasn’t an option.

So now, you had multiple tests done and fertility clinics were all the rage. People were chosen for one another based on successful impregnation statistics and compatibility of gene pools.

Was this to be the rest of your life? Living with a man you didn’t really know, just to produce more people for a dying race? Some found it noble and accepted their new fates with big shoulders to rest their burden upon. You?

The idea of being stuck on this planet for the rest of your meagre life seemed a bit dull, to be completely honest. Ever since new lives and new species started coming to Earth, many of humanity had left the planet, rathering to travel the stars in search of a better tomorrow or some shit.

A loud crash and a bright light encased your room. You bolted from bed and looked at the scene before you. A ship, lodged into the cornfield next to your house. This felt like a cheap old movie from the early 2000’s, almost two thousand years ago ironically. However, enticed by the cliche you ran down the stairs to find an alien staring at his ship in distaste.

He was something to behold. Looking almost humanoid, except his eyes were bright green and his hair a naturally occuring royal blue. He also had body markings over his slightly gray tinged skin. He was a sight to behold in this boring world.

“Well this is, what do the humans call it? Unfortunate,” he said, staring at the crumpled piece of metal with mused interest.

“Hi,” you said lamely, trying to figure out how to keep this person’s interest. Slowly, he turned and looked to you.

“Are you human?” He questioned, coming slightly closer. You backed up slightly, but held a firm stance.

“Yes, why?” you confirmed.

“Just wondering if the stupid GPS got me to the right planet, and it didn’t. I typed in Humanix, stupid thing took me to the closest planets with humans instead. Great,” he huffed, annoyed.

“Are you hurt?” you asked, looking at the state of his vessel, then to him. He shook his head and pointed to an escape pod a few hundred meters down the field.

“Ditched it before it crumpled under the pressure difference of your atmosphere. Stupid thing really wasn’t worth the credits I spent on it.”

You spent the night speaking with whom you found out to be Min Yoongi. A Uzmanic from the planet Utheridian. They were fairly close to humans, however they didn’t die as quickly nor were they a favorite amongst the people of the universe. They had been known to worm their way into politics and cause chaos and throw the worlds into disarray for the short handed amusement it would create. They don’t particularly care for much. However, they are truly beautiful to behold.

Yoongi, as you discovered, didn’t really like a majority of his kin and ditched them. Rathering to research the stars and the people they harbored.

It was a noble enough cause, so you naturally wanted in.

He had stayed with you for three weeks, working on his ship everyday and carving his way into your heart. The morning he was supposed to leave, you walked out with him, in the same field where you’d met.

“Yoongi, I’m going to miss you,” you said, biting your lip as he ran a few more diagnostic tests.

“Well, seeing as how I have become a constant in your life. Now that I am going to depart, sadness is to be expected,” he announced, not looking up from his device.

“Are you going to miss me?” you asked, feeling human emotions of possessiveness and the need to be wanted running rampant.

“For a bit I guess, but I’m young and I’m sure I’ll forget you one day,” he said, the sharpness of his words cutting you like a knife.

In the time you’d known Yoongi, you’d quickly figured out words were not his forefront. He often said things without thinking about the consequences they’d have on more emotionally fueled species, humans being the main example.

“Ah, I see,” you said, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. Yoongi’s head lifted at the waver in your tone. He hadn’t heard that sound from you before. The wetness in your eyes confused him. What were you doing that for? It seemed inconvenient after you had painted your face with ‘cosmetics’ as he noticed your eyelashes looked clumpier.

“What are you doing?” he asked, coming closer. You pushed him away and rubbed your eyes in frustration.

“Crying you idiot, it’s what humans do when they’re hurt or sad,” you explained, trying to save your makeup with a tissue.

“I know you’re sad ‘cause I’m leaving, but it’ll be alright. You’ll meet that marriage partner you were telling me about, have someone to be with,” he tried to make you feel better. But that only made the crying continue, at a much more alarming rate.

Sobs echoed through the field, birds going silent for fear of the unknown sound. Yoongi watched as your face turned red and your eyes produced an astonishing amount of liquid. He’d seen other creatures do something similar to this crying, but it wasn’t as hideous as this. Your nose was running as you fell to your knees. Yoongi, now worried for your safety followed you down and tried to see where the injury was.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, wondering if sadness truly was the cause of this outburst.

“Yes,” you whimpered, unable to really speak through the mess of snot and tears. Yoongi’s heart rate jumped. You were injured! He had to help you! The human race was rare enough as it was in the cosmos, and even more so on their home planet. To hell he’d let such a species die right before him.

“Where? Where does it hurt, what happened?” he asked. You pointed to your chest, right where the human heart should sit.

“My heart hurts,” you said, a tear falling from your eyelashes and hitting the ground below. Yoongi reached forward, touching your chest in a hurry. An unexpected pain hit his face and he held his cheek in astonishment.

“You hit me,” he said, his tone incredulous.

“Don’t touch my chest you weirdo! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you screeched, tears stopping and face turning less red, a more pinkish color now, focused mainly in the cheeks.

“You said your heart hurts, I’m trying to save your life! And now my face hurts, you jerk,” he said, rubbing his tender flesh.

It was deathly quiet, before a snort erupted from your throat. Suddenly, you were laughing. The sound reached Yoongi’s ears and the familiarity of it soothed his worried mind. Yoongi offered a cock eyed grimace with no real malice inside. Just pure wonderment at a species that could literally change emotions with two or three seconds.

Once your laughter died down, you gave him a smile. Yoongi felt confusion sweep over him again. You still had tears of sadness in your eyes. But a smile generally meant humans were happy, did it not? How could you hold two emotions on your face? Humans truly were incredible.

“I really am going to miss you,” you said, reaching out to touch his face. Yoongi flinched, but then relaxed into the warmth of your palm. Uzmanics general run ten or twenty degrees lower than humans. Helping them adapt to the heat of their planet.

Yoongi felt a pang inside of his chest. An emotion unfamiliar to him.

Sadness.

He was sad that he was leaving also. But he knew there was much to do out in the universe. It was vast and unexplored and there was much to see. He couldn’t live here with you...

Uzmanics had a telepathic ability. If touched on the skin, they were able to see what the other was thinking. Generally, they had to get the person to relax and open up allowing them to see inside their mind. However, he didn’t have to search for your thoughts. They were there, almost pushing their way into his mind.

Yoongi’s face smiled back at him. The corn in full bloom. Your hands outstretched before him, reaching for his form. He came running back, taking your hand and leading you out into the blazing field, drenched in the afternoon sun. He watched as the two of you played in the field of corn, running amongst the stalks and laughing. When the night became dark, Yoongi saw himself in your bed next to you, sleeping soundly. Next he saw you looking down at your stomach, a wide bulbous mass in front of you. Yoongi was on his knees before you, placing his mouth against your skin. Then there was no longer a large mound on your body, but a small bundle in your arms, a tiny face with bright green eyes peering up at you.

A child, looking at it’s mother.

When you took your hand away, Yoongi almost followed. Wanting to continue to live in that fantasy you dreamed up for him. However, when your touch left, so did your emotions. He realized how ridiculous that was. Staying here? A dying Earth with a species that was already abandoning the ground for the skies. There wasn’t a chance he would stay here... Except, maybe for you.

“Yoongi?” you asked as the two of you stood from the ground. His hand was on the clasp for the ship, readying himself to pull open the door.

“Hmm?” he asked, turning to you.

“Can I ask a favor?” you offered, coming closer.

“I guess, what is it?” he said, dropping his hand from the metal.

“It’s human tradition to hug when there is a departure... I was wondering if we could hug, because your leaving and stuff,” you said, biting your lip.

“How do we hug?”

You chuckled at the question and came forward, wrapping your arms around his torso and leaning your head on his chest. Yoongi wrinkled his brows in confusion, but mimicked your behavior. The sensation was one of comfort, he realized. You didn’t want him to leave, so this was your way of seeking his comfort for the departure.

“I have to go,” he said, pulling his arms off of you.

“I know,” you said, doing the same.

“Hope your life goes as you want it to. Don’t die young, don’t be stupid and don’t cry so much. You look really gross when you do that,” he said, offering his advice. You laughed softly and nodded.

“I’ll try my best, thank you Yoongi,” you said.

“For what?”

“For crashing into the corn,” you explained.

Yoongi wasn’t sure how his desecration of your crops was a good thing, but he didn’t question it. He nodded before hauling himself into his ship and beginning to start the engines. His mind can’t shake that image though...

The look of pure happiness on his face, how happy you longed for him to be...

You were back on your porch, watching the spaceship beginning to depart. Your heart was breaking a thousand times over again. He really was leaving, he wasn’t going to stay with you... No matter how much you dreamed for it to be true.

Yoongi looked and used his heightened abilities to gaze at you on the porch, the tears were apparent still. But it wasn’t sobbing like earlier. It was just broken, small hiccups that shook your frame every now and again as you saw the engines begin to phase in correct alignment.

Pain gripped his heart as he saw you in that state. He didn’t know why the pain was there, but he didn’t like it one bit.

A fairly stupid idea struck him...

Perhaps you couldn’t live in a corn field together... But you could travel the stars together...

Yoongi jumped from the ship and ran across the field. You noticed his frame and began to run as well. Tripping over your legs and rushing to be by his side again. Once near each other, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Yoongi, unsure of what kind of expression this was quickly unraveled your limbs and took your hands.

“Yoongi, what-”

“Come with me,” he demanded.

“What?”

“Get into that spaceship, and come with me,” he said, pointing to the door.

“Are you serious?” you asked, smiling at him then the ship before you.

“Of course I am, but are you?” he asked, raising a blue eyebrow at you.

“Definitely.”

And that’s how this journey started. In a field of corn, with a dream.

* * *

Now, you had been traveling with Yoongi for almost two years. The two of you were the best of friends. The only friend he’d ever had, really. The Uzmanics don’t really form bonds with others, it is seen as messy and kind of unimportant to tangle yourself with other individuals in their eyes... But, when they do form a bond it is an intense one.

Yoongi and yourself had seen many things together. Some terrifying, some incredible. And everything was still ahead of you. There was too much out there to see, and not enough time to see it. But like fuck if you weren’t going to try.

Yoongi had decided upon another topic of research... Saving species. How to do so and how to make them repopulate in an efficient manner. He’d been reading for almost three months, and you were getting rather bored with it all. The last planet you’d been on had a stagnant population and was dying out rather quickly. It was a similar background as yours, but a few stages further along.

Ever since Yoongi saw the dead fetus in their laboratory, something struck within him. He never wanted to see that again.

Although, being on warp speed for a few months can get really fucking boring.

Time to pester!

You wandered down the halls of the ship, making your way to Yoongi’s study. He’d spent most of his time in here as of late. And you were not happy with the abandonment.

Knocking on the door caused a muffled groan of ‘enter’, from Yoongi’s lips. You strolled in, smiling and ready to cause mischief, it was one of your specialities.

“Yoongiiiii~” you breathed, sitting on his desk next to him as he read his book.

“What is it, Y/N. I’m busy,” he announced.

“Busy, oh I see. Am I that uninteresting that you’d rather read your book?”

“If that’s how you want to take it, sure,” he said.

You peaked at the book he was reading.

Anatomy of the Human Male - Volume 12

He was reading about your species? You wondered for what purpose.

“What are you reading that for?” you asked, leaning against his shoulders.

“The human race is one of the races closest to extinction. I am wondering if breeding with other species will help the gene pool become more varied, helping with fertilization. I’m studying up on the males to see what sort of species could be compatible,” he said.

“Wow, you really want to save us,” you explained. Yoongi looked at you and nodded.

“I never want to see the result of infertility again. It was horrific,” he swallowed thickly.

“Well, what species have you found to be compatible?” you asked.

“A few, humans are a fickle race. Females don’t breed easily, and when they do the fertility has to be timed and cycled correctly for the egg to be bred correctly, then the female has to take care of the-”

“Yoongi, I know all about that. I happen to be a human female myself,” you commented.

“That’s right, I forget that sometimes,” he sighed. “The Adamantians might be a good fit, however their abandonment of young might not feel correct for humans.”

“Absolutely not,” you said.

“What?”

“Is that the thing you’d have females breeding with? Hell no, for my fellow human females I’ll be the one picking here. Show me another one,” you said.

Yoongi flushed slightly, but continued with his list. “The Extraxians also pose good numbers, however the males are a little awkward to say the least... The females might have good luck with human males though,” he noted.

“Ew, gross. I could never have sex with that,” you stated. Yoongi sighed and continued on down the list.

Failure after failure. Yoongi kept running into the same problem.

His lack of knowledge on the actual act of breeding, as well as the females anatomy. All of the books of female reproduction and breeding are highly sought after, due to their rarity.

“Y/N, quit making gagging sounds over there and help me figure this out,” he said rubbing his face in frustration.

“Well, Yoongi it sounds like there is a lack of data for the experiment. So, gather more data. Find more books to read and stuff,” you said, pushing your hair out of your face.

“I can’t gather data on a dying race, there isn’t enough of them. Plus, the books on female anatomy are far too expensive, I’d have to sell everything in order to purchase just a chapter,” he said, rubbing his face.

“Yoongi,” you whispered, biting your lip yet again. He was worried for the skin there.

“Hmm?”

“What if I told you, there was something better than a book that could tell you everything you wanted to know about female anatomy of the human race?” you said, blushing. Yoongi was confused to say the least. What could possibly be better than one of the most sought after pieces of literature in the modern age?

“What are you talking about?” he asked, taking his glasses off to look at you.

“Yoongi, I am a human female.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “We’ve discussed this,” he muttered, losing interest.

“Which means I have female human anatomy,” you said. Yoongi thought about your statement.

“Y/N, it’s so kind of you to offer, but I don’t want to kill you and cut you open for science. You’re a friend of mine,” he said, pushing his hair up off of his face.

“What? No! I don’t want you to dissect me! I’ll show you on my body, Yoongi!” you said. Yoongi thought about it for a moment. It seemed like a rather good idea.

“Alright, that’s fair. How would you like to proceed?” he asked.

“Well, I guess you could ask me what parts you’re confused about and I’ll show them to you and explain how they work,” you said, coming closer. Yoongi nodded and looked at his book.

“Alright, so the hips seem to be mentioned frequently. Can you show me your hips please?” Yoongi asked, you nodded and slowly lifted your shirt, exposing your stomach to him. He marveled at the smooth texture it appeared to have.

“My hips are here,” you said, pointing to the joint just underneath your ribs and the skin that slightly flares out. Yoongi nodded and came closer.

“Am I allowed to touch you?” he asked, looking up for permission.

“Yes,” you breathed slowly. Yoongi nodded and reached forward, his skin touching yours. Ever since the two of you began traveling together, he put up an impressive mental wall to keep your thoughts yours and his thoughts his. But your skin was beautiful. He loved how soft and supple it felt against his hands. As primal as humans could be, they had a very lovely feeling.

“So your bone should be,” he gripped a bit tightly. “Here.”

He smiled and turned to his notebook, writing down a few obscure scribbles.

“Next the Iliac Crest,” he announced.

“It’s kind of hard to show you, let me guide your hand,” you said, reaching your palm towards him. He nodded and let you move his hand down your stomach along the side of your hip that sloped towards your lower body. “Do you feel that dip? That’s the Iliac Crest,” you confirmed. Yoongi nodded and felt your skin, enjoying the sensation.

“Interesting, how about the breasts?” he asked. You squealed slightly, moving up to cup your chest from nerves. “Where are they?” he asked, wondering what was taking you so long.

“U-um, well. Those are considered intimate parts to humans...”

“Y/N, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s scientific, I promise you. I just want to help,” he said, rubbing his thumb against your hip gently. The feeling made you crumple and you nodded.

“This is embarrassing for me so, don’t be so... blunt, please,” you said, pulling your shirt over your head. Yoongi stared at the new skin revealed to him. You had more fabric on underneath the shirt you were wearing... How much clothing did you need?

“So, where are your breasts?” he asked yet again. You blushed and unhooked the oddly shaped clothing item and let it fall to the floor. What he saw were two peaks with a beautiful rosy nub at the tip.

“T-these are, um... My breasts,” you said, trying not to cover yourself.

Yoongi stood up and surveyed the territory. Men didn’t have these, that was for sure.

“What do you have these for?” he asked, looking at them, wondering about their purpose.

“To feed children when they’re born. Much like animals with their kids, human mothers produce milk from their breasts full of nutrients to help their young,” you explained. Yoongi nodded and wrote down the information.

“May I, uh, touch them?” he asked, not wanting to over step.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Just be gentle... They’re, ah, very sensitive,” you commented. Yoongi nodded and reached his hands forward cupping your skin in his palms. The rounded buds poked at his skin.

“What are the pink colored buds at the end of your breasts?” he asked, continuing to feel your chest.

“A-ah, they are my nipples... That’s where the child feeds from,” you said, biting your lip. Yoongi squeezed particularly hard and a moan ripped through your throat. Yoongi dropped his hands and looked at you with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked, touching your shoulder. You nodded quickly, eager for his touch.

“It’s fine, like I said it’s just... sensitive...”

“Okay, that’s alright... Um, well. The next thing would be the mons pubis?” he said, looking at you expectantly.

“Oh,” you said, looking at the ground.

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asked.

“Well, that’s a woman’s most sensitive place... That’s our genitals. Everything we need for making the baby is down there,” you said, pointing to your pants. Yoongi nodded.

“I don’t have to see it, if you don’t want me to... You can just explain and I’ll try to find out from there-”

“No,” you said firmly. “I want to help too. If me being a little embarrassed can help save humans then I can tough it out,” you said, getting up on his desk.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at your position on his desk.

“I need you to help me take these off,” you said, undoing your pants. Yoongi nodded and came forward, helping you push the material off of your legs. You sat on his desk, clad in only your light blue panties. Yoongi observed you, assessing the situation.

“Are you certain we can continue, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, touching your knee.

“Yeah, it’s alright, I’m alright.”

Yoongi nodded and slowly pulled your panties down and off your legs, exposing your vagina. Yoongi dropped to his knees before you and pushed your legs apart slowly.

“Alright so where’s the mons pubis?” he asked, gazing at the pink tones.

“Up here,” you said, moving your hands against your pelvic region. Yoongi nodded and took a few notes.

“Alright and-”

“Don’t you want to touch it?” you asked, Yoongi flushed.

“I don’t think that’s going to be necessary you seem nervous and-” he was cut off as you moved his hand to your skin. He felt the soft hair that collected there. As well as the heat that was radiating from further down.

“W-what’s next?” you asked.

“The Labium Majus?” he stated. You moved your hand and his down to the lips of your center. He touched the hot skin there and grabbed his pen once more.

“Right here,” you said, panting at the attention he was giving you.

“I see,” he noted, writing again.

“Where else do you want to see?” you asked, waiting for instructions.

“The Labium Minus,” Yoongi said, lifting his eyes from his books to look at your center.

“Those should be, right-ah!” you gasped, feeling his finger brush against your clit. Yoongi looked to you with concern.

“Did I hurt you? Are you alright?” he asked, moving his hand away. You nodded quickly.

“You didn’t hurt me, but that’s another part I’ll teach you quickly. That’s the clitourous, it-it’s one of the most sensitive parts on the female body. It provides pleasure during intercourse,” you explained, trying to keep your heart rate under control.

“Oh, I see...” he commented, looking at the small bud with curiosity. “Can I touch it again?” he asked, wondering if your reactions would continue.

“Yes, please,” you begged. Yoongi moved his thumb over your pearl again and you arched your back into his touch. Yoongi noticed your reaction and made a note of it in his mind. A willing female participant and a compatible alien...

The final and most likely pair to create an offspring was a human female with a male Uzmanic...

Yoongi kept his pace up, watching as your skin began to flush and turn a soft shade of pink. He stared at your center as it began to lubricate itself, or he assumed that’s what you were doing.

“Y/N, you’re creating a substantial amount of fluid-”

“I’m wet for you, Yoongi,” you breathed, staring into his eyes.

Uzmanic males had similar biology to human males. They looked rather similar from the books that Yoongi had read, however Uzmanics were a tad bigger than the average human male. However, they had the same set up. Testicles and a penis all in the same areas on their bodies. Although he had a feeling his intercourse was much different than the human’s.

Although Yoongi couldn’t figure out why human men had nipples. Since you just stated females used them during feeding their young, did males feed the young as well? Seemed a little much to be completely honest.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Yoongi said, pulling his hand away and lifting you up towards him. You looked at him with slightly glassy eyes, a hunger set within them... But you were still attentive.

“What is it?” you questioned, suddenly feeling the chill of your nakedness. Yoongi brought you closer to himself.

“After you’ve told me your biological set up, and from the few things other anatomy books have had to say. I believe I have a perfect match for the female human specimens,” he stated.

“Alright, but if it has tentacles I’m out,” you said, resting your cheek on his chest.

“Uzmanic males would be a highly successful test subject with human females. Uzmanic males share many traits as human males do,” Yoongi sighed.

“Wait, what? You mean your kind and mine would have a good chance with having kids?” you questioned. Yoongi nodded.

“Yes, Uzmanic males are very virile, due to the process being rather uneventful not much comes out when ejaculate is produced, so what is given to the females has to be effective,” he stated, thinking back on the times he took part in breeding on his home planet. It was usually quick, boring and slightly messy. All together, it was an uninteresting experience.

“Yoongi, are you suggesting we... we try to have a baby?” you asked, lifting your head and looking at him with curiosity. Yoongi thought about it for a moment.

“Well you responded nicely to my touch not too long ago, so perhaps we should try it. We could figure out if intercourse between our species is successful. Some species don’t react to each other, so the mating process can’t continue,” he explained.

“Uh, so you want to try having sex with me?” Yoongi thought for a moment, he wasn’t feeling particularly aroused by you, but he was curious.

“We could try, I suppose,” he said, looking at you.

“Will I get pregnant?” you asked, feeling a sense of overwhelming nerves hit you in the stomach.

“I’m not too sure, we’ll have to see,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Yoongi, do you know anything about human intercourse?” you questioned as he took his boots off.

“Not particularly, but I know how my species breeds so I’m assuming it’s fairly similar. Seeing as how our species have some mimicry in our structural set up. Why, is there something I should know?” he asked, coming closer.

“Um, no... Just, not sure about this,” you breathed, looking at the marks on his skin with interest.

“If you aren’t sure then we don’t have to do this. You’ve shown me a great deal, so I can just go find another human female who might be more comfortable with the idea-”

“Absolutely not,” you stated, feeling jealousy burn in your cheeks.

“But, Y/N if you don’t consent then I won’t feel comfortable-”

“Put whatever thing you have into me and don’t mention another girl ever again,” you growled, gripping the desk with rage. Yoongi was startled at your statement, not expecting such ferocity from you.

“Alright then, when would you like to have intercourse?”

The desire for him you felt earlier was slowly fizzling out with all the scientific talk, you had to salvage this.

“No time like the present, I’m already naked so,” you said, covering yourself slightly. Yoongi nodded and continued where he left off. You watched as his markings became more apparent to you. His skin was rather beautiful to behold. The deep royal blue that weaved with his muscles made your heart race. Yoongi looked at you watching him. You truly were entranced by him, and he felt something stur in his stomach. What was that feeling?

“Okay, how do we proceed?” he questioned, looking at himself then to you. Your mouth was dry at his appearance. Already, you could see striking differences between him and other human men. First, he had no belly button or nipples, it was a smooth expanse of skin that all wound around, covering his flesh. His eyes were bright green against the pale gray of his body, making your stomach clench. He was truly something to behold.

“H-How do you guys have sex?” you asked, looking at his length, sitting flaccid against his thigh. Yoongi shrugged.

“Nothing too exciting. The females release a pheromone into the air that gets us males enticed and then we approach. Once the female consents to the union she takes us into her opening and squeezes, providing us with stimulation that’s enough to produce ejactulate. Once that’s over she’s usually pregnant,” he said, rubbing his arm. You blushed.

“Where are the females openings?” you questioned. Yoongi’s hand came to your skin and poked your belly button. You squealed at the sensation, making him crack a smile.

“Around this area, we ejaculate directly into the womb, seeing as how our females don’t have a great deal of reproductive organs,” he explained.

“Mine is a tad lower than my belly button,” you stated.

“Belly what?” Yoongi asked, looking at your stomach in confusion.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll tell you later. Let’s focus on this right now,” you said, taking his hand.

“Fair enough, but how do you humans have sex? Is it different?” he questioned, looking at your belly button with mute wonder.

“A bit, firstly you don’t stick anything in my belly button,” you laughed.

“I still am confused on that part, but continue,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Well, you have a penis. So that makes things a little less confusing for me,” you said, gazing at his cock with a throb going straight to your center. “And you put it in my vagina, then we sort of, just go at it... Pretty simple,” you said.

“What do you mean, ‘go at it’? Do you not squeeze like female Uzmanics?” he questioned, wondering what kind of stimulation you provided to get his semen.

“A bit, but I don’t do all the work like the other females do. We work together to finish,” you explained.

“Finish what?” he asked. You smacked your forehead.

“We both ejactulate,” you tried again. Yoongi screwed his face in distaste.

“Well I certainly don’t want to get pregnant,” he said, looking at his stomach. You sighed, rubbing your face in frustration.

“Yoongi you won’t get pregnant. Women orgasm, it’s a rush of pleasure that signals the ending of sex... Sometimes. Women can generally have multiple orgasms. There’s research to suggest that it’s a reward to promote more sperm competition and things of the like. Generally, women just want sex because it feels good. However, we’re working for a very specific goal so I don’t necessarily need to orgasm to get pregnant,” you said, already hating the idea of being left high and dry by this male.

Yoongi seemed to think for a minute. “Sex feels good for you?” he asked, looking to your vagina with curiosity. You swatted him away and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Yes, it does. Pleasure is the way that keeps humans from dying off... However, that didn’t help when gene pools became stagnant...”

“That’s interesting, so say you did get pregnant and have a child. You’d want to continue having sex after the birth of this child because it feels good? You wouldn’t feel like sex was just a means to have a baby?” he quizzed. You nodded.

“Most humans don’t have sex to produce offspring, they do it to feel pleasure and to become closer to another,” you explained. Yoongi nodded and grabbed his notebook quickly, jotting your statements down.

“I see, that is very different from Uzmanics. Women only breed once then are finished,” he said. “So you’re saying that you can have multiple children in succession to one another,” he confirmed.

“Yes, but it is very difficult on the female body. Usually women try to have children with a few years between them so their bodies can recover from the stress of bearing a child,” you stated. He seemed to understand this and continued his note taking. “However, we’re getting very off track. We’re supposed to be having sex,” you said, reaching for him. Yoongi looked at your outstretched arms with confusion.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at you.

“I want to kiss you...?” you questioned, wondering why he was so weirded out by your approach.

“I don’t know what that is,” he said, looking at you and raising his eyebrow.

“It’s a way of showing affection, we put our lips together and... Uh, kiss,” you said, struggling to come up with better explanation but failing.

“Is it necessary for breeding?” he questioned, looking at your lips with curiosity.

“It will help me relax,” you said, lifting your gaze to his. Yoongi nodded and accepted your advances this time.

Slowly, you leaned forward and placed your lips on his in a soft kiss. Yoongi sat there wondering what this had to do with anything. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it or anything, it just seemed a little unnecessary. Yet again, there was the stirring in his stomach that made his penis twitch oddly. He jumped from the sensation and your lips seperated with a pop.

“Are you alright?” you asked, looking at him with concern in your features. Yoongi nodded, looking down at his genitals, disoriented.

“Yeah, my penis felt weird for a moment. Anyways, let's continue,” he said, coming forward and moving to press his lips to yours this time. You didn’t have time to question his little outburst before his mouth hit yours. You felt his cool skin against your lips and sighed in pleasure. He wasn’t moving, just sitting there with his mouth touching yours. It was a bit odd, so you started to move your lips slowly, trying to encourage him to do the same. Yoongi pulled back for a moment, staring at your mouth.

“Yoongi, this isn’t going to work if you keep moving away from me,” you sighed, exasperated at his constant stopping.

“This isn’t doing anything, why are you insisting upon it?” he asked. You bit your lip and wrung your hands together.

“It’s apart of human nature to show affection during this process. Since it’s in our biology to do this to make a child, it’s a romantic gesture... Usually it isn’t so test tube and scientific, the mood isn’t right. I can’t relax when you keep acting like a stranger,” you accused.

Yoongi frowned. Was he truly too detached from this experience? It was obviously putting you in a negative mood, something not helpful when trying to produce a child. He wanted you to be comfortable and happy during this time, perhaps he should attempt a different method.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “You know I’m not good with emotions, no Uzmanic is. That’s probably the biggest difference between humans and us. You are creatures of feeling and sensation. Uzmanics believe in logic and science above all else. That’s where we’re getting stuck,” he explained. “So, I will try to get out of my own head and be here in this moment with you. Because, I’ve found over traveling with you for so long... Being in the present, the here and now seems to be the best place for me... As long as you’re there with me,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours in an affectionate way.

Yoongi waited for your response with bated breath, hoping that his little show of emotion would help break down his walls and help you come to him. A small smile lit across your face, burning away the sadness and discomfort of earlier.

“Thank you, I appreciate that. I think another reason we’re getting stuck is that I’m in your study and not on a comfortable surface. Let’s try moving this somewhere else,” you suggested, standing up.

“That could be a good idea,” Yoongi agreed.

“Alright, let’s go to my room.”

*  *  *

Yoongi was sat on your bed, a robe wrapped around his frame. You insisted that this would help set the mood. He had been waiting for you to finish in the bathroom, yet another thing you said would be crucial in the long run. He ran the fabric between his fingers, letting the softness warm him. However, a sour taste reached his mouth as he realized... It wasn’t as soft as you.

Eventually, Yoongi was certain you had fallen asleep in the bathroom and was going to abandon this for the time being when the door opened. You stood there in a robe similar to his, but much shorter and made out of a different material. The color was a deep, royal blue... A color familiar to him as he looked at his skin.

“Are you ready?” he asked, watching as you came forward.

“As I’ll ever be,” you breathed, standing right in front of him.

“So, how should we proceed?” he asked, looking at your wet hair. “Did you bathe?” he questioned, taking a strand between his fingers. You nodded and lifted your leg onto the bed.

“Touch,” you offered, pulling the robe up off your thigh slowly. Yoongi nodded and reached out, placing his hand on your shin. Your skin was warm to the touch, his cool skin meshing with your own nicely. He heard you sigh in content, closing your eyes and relaxing. “Go higher,” you suggested. He did as instructed, moving his hand up over your knee. The skin he found was so smooth and soft, it was pleasant to feel.

“You’re soft,” he said quietly, admiring the way you reacted to his touch.

“Thank you,” you commented. “I’m going to take my robe off, but keep yours on alright?” you requested. Yoongi nodded and closed his eyes.

“You may disrobe whenever you like,” he said, keeping his eyes shut. He felt your hand on his cheek, causing his eyes to lift open. You were staring at him, a soft look in your eyes.

“Don’t look away, I have something to show you.” Yoongi nodded and did as you asked, keeping his eyes open and on your body.

With patient movements you undid the tie around your waist, pulling the silken fabric apart. Yoongi wasn’t sure what purpose this served, but it was almost irritating how slow you were. He wanted to see you again. He came to the conclusion that he like how you looked naked. You were different than Uzmanic females, of course, but it wasn’t a bad different. The pink tones of your skin made him more worked up than he had realized.

Finally the robe fell to the floor and you stood before him with more material over yourself. He recognized the design of the clothing, but didn’t know what they were for. “You still have more clothing on? How long does the mating process between humans take?” he asked, propping his head up on his palm. You made a sort of distressed squeak and crossed your arms over your chest.

“This is called lingerie, it’s used to help women arouse males with pretty fabric,” you said, turning around to show him. Yoongi did think that it looked nice, but it was still on you and keeping him from touching your skin.

“Seems a bit redundant when it’s just going to be taken off anyways,” he feigned irritation, raising an eyebrow. You huffed in annoyance at your seducing techniques going AWOL.

“I’m trying to arouse you! Do Uzmanics really not enjoy sex to the point when a woman offers themselves up to them on a silver platter, they turn around and say they wanted gold?”

“I never said I wasn’t aroused,” he said, keeping a level face. Yoongi couldn’t deny that you looked good. But it all seemed a little useless when the process wasn’t going to be very long.

“A-are you aroused by me, Yoongi?” you asked, a blush rising to your cheeks.

“Sure,” he said, not conveying any kind of emotion to back up his statement.

“Sure? I’m stood here in the nicest set of lingerie I own and all you can say is sure? What do I have to do to get you excited to have sex with me?” you asked, coming closer.

Yoongi thought about it for a minute... The female pheromones that were released during their breeding sessions usually made him feel a little sick, not aroused. But he wasn’t sure if he’d ever been truly aroused in his life. The women of his home were pretty, sure, but nothing of great importance. You were already much more beautiful in his opinion. Especially with your soft skin...

“Not too sure, I don’t know if I’ve ever been aroused in my life... Uzmanics don’t use sex as a means to procure pleasure. We do it so our race doesn’t die out. Necessary evil if you will. It’s painful for the woman and the men don’t generally get much enjoyment out of hurting their partner, so it’s all together kind of boring and unsatisfying,” he said.

“Is your penis sensitive? Like, do you gain pleasure from being inside the females?” you asked. Yoongi thought back and nodded.

“Yes, it feels nice when we’re inside them. But generally they are screaming so you feel bad to gain any kind of pleasure from the encounter,” he explained. You sighed in relief and went to your knees.

“Then I have an idea,” you said, crawling in between his legs.

“What is it?” he asked, looking at you being so close to his length was sort of awkward.

“I’m going to blow you,” you said, moving his robe aside and looking at his length with determination in your eyes.

“Blow me what-ah!” Yoongi yelped as you took his penis in your mouth. He gripped your shoulders and bit his lip, not knowing what to do with the sensations. It was so hot inside of your mouth. Since Uzmanics have their lower body temperatures the feeling of being enveloped by something so warm and wet was incredible.

You wrapped your hand around his shaft and began pumping up and down, ensuring every inch of his cock was covered in slick. Yoongi trembled at the sensation, eyes closed shut from the feeling. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath as he focused on your touch. The way your skin felt against his, caressing his length unlike the females he’d been with before.

“Do you like it? Does it feel nice?” you asked, licking the underside of his shaft and sucking on the tip like a popsicle. Yoongi wasn’t sure he could speak, so overwhelmed by you. Every slight adjustment of your grip on his dick made him shiver slightly. He gave a nod, biting his lip harsh enough to draw blood.

You stared at his face, feeling pleasure course through your core. It was almost embarrassing how soaked your panties were, enough to stick to your center. Yoongi was slowly losing grip on his mental state, slowly feeling your thoughts sweep into his mind.

He could feel your pleasure just from sucking him, how much you got off on it. Your emotions plus his own physical state started pushing him towards an edge. He’d ejaculated before, obviously, but this sensation was something completely heightened. Different than the times he’d bred before.

“Y-Y/N, I feel really weird,” he warned, trying to get you to stop. But you wanted to taste him, more than anything.

“It’s okay, Yoongi. Let it out, let me taste you... I want it, please give it to me,” you whined, pumping him aggressively. Your words caused a wire inside him to snap.

He came with a shout into your mouth, surprising more than you with the velocity and the amount he produced. He couldn’t seem to stop, he wanted to fill you up... When the sensitivity set in, Yoongi pulled himself from your mouth. You swallowed his cum and wiped your lips, looking Yoongi in the eyes with desire. Without knowing why, Yoongi surged forward and captured your mouth with his, causing you to fall back onto the floor. He followed you, not severing the kiss, moving his palms to yours. You interlocked your fingers and encouraged him to kiss you deeper. Yoongi seemed to pick up quickly, licking into your mouth with fervor.

Yoongi pulled back and licked his lips, tasting himself on your tongue. “I can see the appeal of kissing now,” he breathed, leaning back down and swallowing your mouth once again. You gripped his neck to keep yourself grounded. The lack of air made your head spin, but you didn’t want to be seperated for even a moment. Yoongi finally let you pull back, as a gasp filled the air.

“Touch me,” you pleaded, pulling at his robe. Yoongi nodded and ripped the material off, relishing in the smooth feeling of your skin. You moaned as Yoongi licked at your throat. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to lick and kiss every part of your body. Leaving bruises and marks in his wake.

“I feel like I can’t think straight... What’s going on with me,” Yoongi wondered out loud, looking at your frame beneath him.

“I know... I feel it too. Please, please fuck me,” you moaned, trying to lift your hips for any kind of friction. Yoongi almost yelped from the sensation of your wet heat trailing across his aching length. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, biting your lip intensely. Yoongi moved forward, kissing your stomach then lower, right above your center. He wasn’t sure why, but the smell coming from there made his mouth water uncontrollably. He wanted to lick you there, taste you as you tasted him.

“Y/N, can I?” he begged, gazing up to you for permission. You nodded quickly, brushing his blue hair from his eyes. Without any form of restraint he dove into your center, tongue laving a large swipe from the base of your core to right below your panty line. An agonized moan left your mouth at the sensation. It was almost too good. Yoongi went right back to your mound and licked at your center like a man possessed. He’d never smelt something so arousing. He felt he could burst again at the taste of your liquid sliding onto his greedy tongue. You arched your back and felt his nose brush against your clit, causing you to hiss in pleasure.

“Yoongi, my clit... Please focus there, I wanna cum,” you murmured, tangling your fingers into his hair. He complied, moving his muscle over your sweet pearl. He sucked and pulled at the flesh, wanting to hear more of your sounds. You panted his name, watching as he kissed your clit multiple times. The building of your orgasm was beginning to reach its peak. Yoongi couldn’t seem to get enough, kissing your lower lips and sucking to get more of your flavor in his mouth.

“So sweet,” he moaned against your core, pulling your leg over his shoulder so he could move deeper into you with his tongue. He found a hole towards the bottom of your vagina. He experimentally dipped his tongue inside to explore, when you cried out in pleasure. Yoongi looked to you with worry, but you shook your head quickly.

“Yoongi, please don’t stop. Feels good, keep going baby,” you pleaded, almost on the verge of tears because you wanted to cum so badly. Complying with your request Yoongi slowly pushed his tongue back inside your cavern, feeling the velvet of your walls touch him softly. He moaned at the feeling, wanting to put a different part of himself in this place.

He was rock hard against his thigh, dripping down onto the floor, making a mess of the carpet. However, he couldn’t find a single fuck to give at the moment. All that mattered was you. The sounds you were making and how you felt against his body.

“Gonna cum, ah-ah!” you whined, back arching off the floor and you flooding Yoongi’s mouth with your juices. He swallowed, slowing his licks, as you shuddered from your high. You dropped to the ground with a thud and your chest was rising and falling with the effort of breathing. Yoongi could feel your heart rate thrumming in your inner thigh and he was almost alarmed at the pace.

“Breathe, Y/N,” he coaxed, kissing your stomach slowly. He relished in the softness against his mouth. Every part of your body was enticing to him. How hadn’t he noticed before this night? How beautiful you were? How fast you made his heart beat...

When your breathing evened out, Yoongi nudged your cheek with his nose. Sleepily, you turned your head and caught his lips in a kiss. He parted your lips with his tongue and you could sense his urgency against your thigh. “Yoongi,” you whispered, hand coming up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch and gazed into your eyes. “Make me a mother, please,” you begged, wanting to be filled up so much you couldn’t walk the next day.

A possessive growl filled the room and Yoongi hauled you from the ground and onto your bed. A searing kiss placed on your lips made you moan, wrapping your arms around Yoongi’s neck as he pulled at your bra with irritation. “Get this off,” he demanded, sitting back on his haunches. You sat up and undid the back, letting the material fall off your wrist and onto the floor. Yoongi pushed forward, gripping your breasts with his hands, kneading your sensitive flesh.

“Ah!” you cried out, giving Yoongi’s neck open mouthed kisses as he fondled your chest.

“These will be swollen with milk for our child,” he moaned, moving his mouth to your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. You cried out and ran your fingers through his hair. Encouraged by your sounds, he continued, flicking the bud with his tongue and gently nipping with his teeth. You could feel your wetness sliding down your thighs as Yoongi continued with your breasts.

“Please, please stop teasing me and put it in,” you sobbed, shaking from want. Yoongi pulled back and nodded, grasping his length and pushing it against your center desperately.

“I-It’s different than our females... W-where do I?” he asked, looking to you for help. You gripped his length and guided it to your entrance, feeling it dip in slightly due to Yoongi’s work earlier.

“There, just be slow... It’s going to sting for me a little bit,” you said, shifting your hips slowly. Yoongi felt his heart jump. Sting? It was going to hurt you like it hurt the other females?

“I-I can’t hurt you... I won’t,” he stated firmly, beginning to pull away.

“No!” you cried, reaching for him desperately. Yoongi was shocked at your outburst, but remained still. “I need you, please... Please put it in, I want the pain... I want it all because it’s you. I want all of you with me, forever. Yoongi please,” you whispered into his neck.

“I crashed in your cornfield, I probably destroyed hundreds of years of work,” he stated, already losing his moral compass at the feeling of your breasts pressed against him.

“Then make it up to me and plant another seed,” you said, taking his hand and resting it on your stomach. Yoongi stared at your hand and his, interlocked over where your womb should be... His heart throbbed at the want... A family that he could be apart of. Not one that only wanted him for a few moments. Someone who wanted him because they desired his company and enjoyed being around him...

“I will,” he said, cradling your head in another kiss and following you down onto the mattress. Yoongi found your entrance with ease and looked to you for one final blink of permission. You nodded and he slowly pushed forward.

The heat hit him first. It was hotter than your mouth, tighter too. The feeling of being enveloped so entirely in the plush walls of your core. Yoongi gripped your waist and kept you still. A soft yelp came from your kiss swollen lips.

“Oh fuck, Yoongi,” you sighed, leaning your head back on the bed and gripping onto his bicep for some kind of traction to keep you in reality.

His throbbing, thick length had you gasping for air. You’d never experienced something quite like this before. So cool, yet pulsating in rhythm to Yoongi’s heart beat. His hands were practically glued to your sides, making you squirm from the unrelenting pressure.

“Please, move Yoongi. Fuck me,” you cried out. He stared at you with confusion. You weren’t squeezing like you were supposed to.

“How am I supposed to move? Why aren’t you clenching tightly?” he questioned, sweat pouring down his face.

“Oh I’m sorry I’m not tight enough for you,” you said, trying not to clench out of spite. Yoongi whined, rutting against you almost instinctively. Unsure of how to continue, he kissed your lips for reprieve.

“How? How do I do it? Y/N, tell me how do I fuck you?” he asked, licking into your mouth with such wanton desire it was contagious.

“Your hips,” you rasped. “Move them back, then forward again. Build a rhythm,” you said, trailing your hands to the flesh of his ass and gripping tightly. Yoongi squawked and bucked into you harshly, drawing a grunt from your lungs. The harsh strike of pleasure hit your spine and you arched into him.

“Like this?” he questioned, pulling his hips back then pushing back into your heat again. You nodded, drawing marks down his skin. Watching as they swelled up and rivaled his natural skin tone.

“That feels so good,” you panted, watching as his cock disappeared inside of you and reappeared with your fluids covering it in the glimmer of the dim light. You observed as Yoongi’s eyebrow furrowed with effort, trying to keep his pace as well as deliver pleasure to both parties.

“Shit, I’ve never felt anything like this... What is this sensation, being inside of you is so incredible,” he gasped, his head falling into the crook of your neck. Yoongi splattered kisses there mindlessly, so focused on the feeling of you consuming him. You gripped onto his biceps and rocked your hips against him, easing him into the rhythm.

You couldn’t breathe evenly, Yoongi’s thrusts becoming harsher as time went on. “Oh fuck, Yoongi!” you yelped, digging your nails into his beautiful flesh and watches as blood pricked against his skin. He hissed but the pain only egged him on. He plunged into your heat with desperation, the sensation becoming overwhelming.

“Y-Y/N, I feel really weird,” he warned, continuing the watch the lewd scene before him.

“Are you gonna cum, Yoongi?” you asked, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, forcing your hips down against him. Yoongi whined at the feeling of your walls clenching down on him.

“W-What’s does that mean?” he asked, grasping at your chest. Kneading the delicate skin to provide you more pleasure.

“Means you’ll finish in me, and get me pregnant,” you breathed. Yoongi gasped at the statement.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, tensing up. Suddenly, there was the overwhelming heat that signaled his release. The watching Yoongi’s face cloud over in pleasure sent you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around Yoongi, pulling another shot of cum from his length.

A few moments later, Yoongi collapsed onto the bed. You felt his length slide out of you, causing a shudder to rush down your spine. Yoongi and yourself were panting harshly, feeling the afterglow of your orgasms flood your system.

Silence rested in the room, not uncomfortable or unwanted. Yoongi’s breathing began to even out and your mind became a little less foggy.

“Yoongi?” you whispered, feeling the dampness between your legs grow uncomfortable.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, turning his head to look at you.

“Can you get me a washcloth?”

“Why?”

“Because your stuff is drying on my legs and it’s disgusting,” you stated. Yoongi cleared his throat in embarrassment but quickly got up and went to the bathroom. He was back a few moments later and crawled onto the bed, between your legs once more. You couldn’t help the thrill of pleasure that ran down of your spine at the sight.

“Don’t clench like that or I’m going to fuck you again,” he warned, wiping your legs down.

“Well... Maybe we should make sure I really do get pregnant.”

Silence.

“God damn it, get on your knees.”

---

You woke up three weeks later, fitful stomach the only thing on your mind.

Quickly you threw yourself through the bathroom door and emptied last night's meal into your toilet. Yoongi ran in, sleep still present in his face but concern running through his veins.

“Are you alright?” he asked, coming next to you with a cold cloth to press against the back of your neck. You nodded, leaning into his touch.

“Stomach is upset,” you complained. Yoongi’s head perked up, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

“Is this morning sickness? Are you pregnant?” he asked. You thought for a moment. You weren’t due for your period for another week, however it didn’t hurt to check.

“I’m not sure. I’m not late, but you can give me a test and I’ll take it,” you said.

Yoongi booked it out of the room and grabbed his medical supplies kit. The dreaded white stick was handed to you and a timer set.

You walked out after washing your hands. Yoongi and you leant against the wall, waiting for the test to develop.

“Do you want to be pregnant?” he asked, looking at you with his bright green eyes.

“If it’s with you, then yeah,” you breathed, gazing down at your fingers. Yoongi’s heart rate sped up, a sense of longing coming over him.

“Me too,” he said, taking your hand in his.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Do you want to see it?” you asked, coming out of the bathroom.

“Just tell me,” he breathed.

“It’s negative,” you said, holding the stick out to him. Yoongi frowned.

“I wonder why, we’ve been having unprotected sexual intercourse.

“Sometimes women need a couple tries before they actually get pregnant. The human fertility cycle is a fickle thing,” you stated, rubbing his shoulder.

“Are you disappointed?” Yoongi asked, throwing the used test in the garbage.

“A little, but at least I have an excuse to have sex with you again,” you smiled.

“You don’t need an excuse, I like having sex with you,” Yoongi stated, a blank expression on his face.

“Oh, I’m glad you enjoy it,” you said, feeling a little offended that’s all he liked.

“But I think I like it because it’s with you, I don’t know if I’d enjoy having sex with anything else,” he said, pulling his face into a confused look.

Before he could open his mouth again you covered his lips with yours. Yoongi fell into the rhythm quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

“I might like kissing you better than sex, however,” he stated, resting his head against yours. You smiled and started leading him towards the bed.

“Let’s try again,” you breathed, laying down.

“Try what again? Sexual intercourse? I thought I was improving, you seem to be enjoying it as well. I thought you made me deaf in one ear from all the screaming,” he said, rubbing his ear for effect.

“Getting me pregnant, idiot. I wanna have a baby with you cause I like you,” you said.

“Oh, I like you too I guess.”

You frowned.

“Never mind, take me home,” you pouted, sitting up and crossing your arms.

“Why? Did I offend you again?” he asked, sitting on his knees.

“Yes, you’re being an asshole.”

“I don’t see how my inability to understand you relates me to the place you defecate from but whatever,” he sighed. “But I do like you,” Yoongi confessed.

“How?”

“Do you want an explanation of how I like you or the reason or-”

“No for fucksake Yoongi I want to know if you like me cause I give you sex or because of my personality,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead in frustration.

“I liked you before we started having intercourse. I wouldn’t have brought you along with me if I hadn’t. You’re my first friend, first kiss, lots of other things too. First cornfield to crash in,” he said, counting on his fingers.

“Yoongi, do you love me?” you asked, letting your walls down for once.

“Is that the human emotion that you talk about a lot?” he questioned. You nodded in response. “Then, yes. I do love you, Y/N,” he said, smiling a little at the end of his sentence.

You were quiet for a moment. Yoongi bit his lip, had he upset you again? Damn, he really tried that time. Suddenly you launched yourself at his mouth. He almost didn’t have enough time to breathe with all the mouth action going on.

“D-Did I-” Kiss. “Say something-” Kiss. “Right for once?” Kiss.

“I love you too, Yoongi. Now take your clothes off.”

#BTS #Bangtan #Min Yoongi #Min Suga #Suga #Yoongi #BTS Min Yoongi #BTS Smut #Smut #BTS fanfiction #BTS smutty fanfiction #One-shot #Yoongi Alien!AU #BTS alien #Impregnation Kink #Like holy shit #Didn't think it would get this kinky #Sorry not sorry #Jessika Hathaway #Yoongi as an alien #He's pretty awkward #Blunt too

[pyro-yoshi]

Demonic Possession Style - a Walking Dead sick fic

You know how I’m all about OC sick fics? I still am, don’t you worry. Its been years since I’ve written a puke without plot for a fandom. Well, I broke that streak and wrote some fan fiction. I felt the internet needed some Walking Dead emeto, so I wrote this. Negan gets super sick and profusely pukes his guts out all over the place, several times, and his fellow Saviors take care of him. The amount of puke is fairly exaggerated, as Negan throws up A LOT. Likely more than is humanly possible. Why? Because I am into that.

This is pretty long. At a little over 5000 words, I do believe this is the longest sick fic I’ve written. I enjoyed writing it, hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it.

He’d felt a bit off all day, but it wasn’t until he disemboweled Spencer that Negan felt a sharp stabbing pain in his own gut. If that wasn’t ironic he didn’t know what was. Perhaps it was some sort of phantom sympathy pain, but then again the very idea of that was stupid.

Just like Spencer.

Negan would be the first to admit he was a cocky bastard, but he absolutely couldn’t stand people like Spencer, overly privileged shits who skated through life using their good looks and daddy’s credit card to get whatever they wanted. Having to talk one on one with Spencer was bad enough, but once he’d expressed his wish to kill Rick and takeover as the new leader of Alexandria, Negan had officially had enough of him and offed him right there in the street.

While tormenting Rick was one of Negan’s favorite hobbies, he also harbored a fair amount of respect for the ex deputy. Rick Grimes was a natural leader, he organized people, and most importantly, he was a go getter. He got shit done, and Negan liked that. Plus, he liked Rick’s kids a lot. Carl was a badass, and baby Judith was the cutest damn thing he’d EVER seen. Earlier in the day, he’d spent a good half hour cradling Judith, bouncing her on his knee and being silly with her while Carl kept his one remaining eye intently trained on him.

But Spencer, that asshole, wanted to murder Rick and leave Carl and Judith without a father, and Negan simply wasn’t going to tolerate that bullshit.

He felt a twinge of nausea as he watched Spencer drop to his knees, holding his own intestines in his hands. It wasn’t the blood and guts that was bothering him. Living in a post apocalyptic world, nobody batted an eye at bloodshed anymore. Killing people was just a part of life now.

No, this was something else. Before Spencer had approached him, Negan had made himself at home in Rick’s residence and cooked a massive amount of spaghetti for himself and his guests. Olivia hadn’t eaten a single bite, Carl had just picked at his and Rick didn’t even show up. Rude. Negan wasn’t the type to let food go to waste, especially not now, so he’d eaten almost the entire pot himself. He ate all of the rolls too, and washed it down with a couple glasses of lemonade. He’d probably just eaten too much.

More abrupt, intense pains almost made him wince, but he brushed them off. Instead, he stood over Spencer, who was rapidly bleeding out, and addressed the crowd of Alexandrians who had gathered around him.

“Look at that! He did have guts after all, they’re right there! I’ve never been so wrong in my life!”

The crowd stared, but nobody moved. They wouldn’t dare try anything, not with Arat ready to unload her pistol into anyone dumb enough to do something drastic.

“I just did your community a favor!” Negan ignored the horrified looks some people were casting him and continued. He motioned to Carl, who was glaring at him from his porch. “Kid, that douchebag just told me he wanted to kill your dad. Now I don’t know about you, but I think that’s really shitty.”

Turning back to the crowd, he carried on, ignoring the stomach pains and slight nausea he felt. “That’s right people. Spencer the dickless there wanted to take out your fearless leader! You should all be thanking me.”

A stronger wave of nausea took him by surprise, but he played it off and continued swaggering around Alexandria, Lucille in his hand as always. He supervised as his men wandered in and out of various homes and took whatever they felt like taking in addition to picking up this week’s offering.

Under normal circumstances, Negan would be bummed that he wasn’t going to see Rick on this visit, but as time wore on, he found himself caring less and less as he gradually began to feel worse. He could somehow still taste the spaghetti, and he felt overly full and excessively bloated, which left him in a great amount of discomfort. It got to the point where he almost sighed in relief when his men decided to load up and go back to the compound.

The drive from Alexandria to the Savior's compound was usually an hour there an hour back, a little more if they had to clear walkers from the road on the way.

Negan wasn’t sure if he’d make it through the whole drive home. He was in the passenger seat of the front most truck, and he’d long since given up trying to get comfortable. No amount of position shifting seemed to ease his rapidly growing queasiness, and rolling down the passenger window to get some fresh air hadn’t helped worth a damn. He sank down into his seat and sighed as he placed his right hand on his upset, overly bloated stomach. The truck driver gave him a questioning glance but didn’t pry.

To say he felt like dogshit was a massive understatement. Every bump in the road made him feel even worse, and by the time he arrived back at the compound, he felt well and truly sick. He felt bad enough that he let his guard down and dropped the sarcastic, confident personality he usually displayed in favor of being quiet. He thought back to various times he’d been sick with a stomach bug or food borne illness in the past, and those instances had all started with bloating and sharp abdominal pains.

He felt hot and feverish in addition to feeling sick, and as he stepped out of the truck, a dizzying wave of vertigo washed over him. He groaned softly and Lucille almost slid from his grip.

He was definitely sick, no doubt about it. All he wanted was to retreat to his room and curl into a ball of misery on the bathroom floor. He knew that’s what he’d end up doing, as he was really starting to feel like he was going to puke. He wasn’t the type to fight it, he’d much rather get it all out and feel better, at least temporarily.

Of course, Negan’s escape plan was thwarted. He had only made it several yards away from the trucks when Simon came out of nowhere and flung his arm around his shoulder.

“We’ve got a problem, and I know you’d want to hear this from me. We’ve got a snake in the nest.”

Negan looked at him, but it took him a moment to find his words. “What happened?”

“I caught said snake, Toby, trying to leave us with weeks worth of stolen food. He stole from all of us and thought he could get away with it! Unfortunately for him, I’m exceptionally good at discovering pests. We decided to heat up the furnace to teach him a lesson. Dwight’s getting the iron ready, but being the big man himself, you get to do the honors.” Simon explained.

Before Negan could protest, his right hand man lead him into the factory. Arat followed, and everyone else trailed behind them on her command. Truthfully, ironing Toby’s face was the last thing he wanted to do right now. With every step he took, he was hit with an intense nausea peak and came closer to losing it. At this point it wasn’t a matter of if he was going to throw up, it was when. He knew he had a 100 percent chance of seeing his lunch again, and probably soon at that because he felt like he could hurl at any second.

Simon lead him to the railing of the balcony overlooking the common room, and he felt acid creep up his throat as he looked down at the crowd of his lieutenants and workers below. They were all kneeling and bowing like usual, save for Dwight who was heating up the iron, and Toby who had been stripped to his underwear and bound to a chair. Normally Negan relished the sight of his loyal cohorts bowing to him and loved leading them in a charismatic manner, but today he just wasn’t up to it. He straight up felt too sick to give a traitor the iron.

Alas, he couldn’t not do it either. Toby had to be punished, but Negan wasn’t going to bother with taunting. He’d wordlessly give this guy the iron, then lock himself in his ensuite bathroom and spend the rest of the day puking his guts out.

He sluggishly descended the stairs, and he could feel everything in his stomach unpleasantly sloshing around with each step. He stopped in front of Toby, but another wave of vertigo hit him and he had to shut his eyes and brace himself with Lucille to avoid falling over.

Toby was panicking, as victims of the iron always did. He looked up at Negan, pleading.  “I-I’m so sorry sir! I’m stupid, I’m an idiot, I’m a fuck up, just please don’t do this! I’ll never break a rule again! I swear! Please!”

Simon grinned manically and leaned over the bound man. “Toby, Toby, Toby. It sure is a shame it had to come to this, because before your fuck up today, you did a good job here. I liked you. But, you must be a lot dumber than you look if you thought you could get away with that. The thing is, we don’t take too kindly to thieves around here.” he spoke in an upbeat manner, but the aura of threat was there clear as day.

Dwight removed the glowing, red hot iron from the furnace with a long metal pole and extended it to Negan. Toby, who was near tears from the anticipation of that nearly molten metal being pressed to his face, was practically howling with fear.

Negan didn’t take the iron. He was overwhelmed with nausea, and he could taste the acid that was threatening to shoot up his throat. Lucille was limp in his grip, his mouth flooded with saliva and he moaned as he a felt a hot, burning sensation rapidly start spreading through his gut. That could only mean one thing. He was going to puke, right here, right now, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.

His followers had suspected something was off upon noticing how quiet he had become, but by now nearly everyone had realized that something was amiss. Arat cocked her head and gave him a questioning look, and many others followed suit.

Simon turned away from Toby and rose a brow at Negan. “What’s going on with you? Is there something I should know about?”

“I..I...oh fu-” Negan was cut off mid sentence by a retch. He felt his stomach contract and before he could even move, a torrent of vomit gushed from his mouth, missing Simon by an inch and hitting Toby square in the chest.

“Holy fuck! What the hell Negan?!” Simon leapt back to avoid getting nailed. Several other people flinched back as well, and even Arat looked shocked.

Toby audibly cried out in revulsion as the chunky brown substance slid down his torso. “Oh god! He just puked on me!”

Negan clamped a hand over his mouth and turned away from the man, but it was no use. Puke spurted from between his fingers and dripped down onto his nice leather jacket before he gagged again and completely lost control. Lucille clattered to the ground as he puked all over the floor, splashing the feet of one of his guards as he did so.

Dizziness swept over him and caused him to lose his balance. He dropped to his knees and moaned as he clutched his stomach with both hands. A second later he erupted with more chunks, making the pool in front of him bigger. Another copious wave comprised of spaghetti, rolls, lemonade and everything else he’d eaten came up, and before he could even recover from that he vomited again.

Everyone was staring at him in shocked silence, and no one wanted to go near him for fear of getting puked on.

Negan’s eyes were starting to water from the force of his retching, which he found humiliating. He wasn’t embarrassed about throwing up in front of everyone, because he couldn’t help it. However, the idea of involuntarily crying in front of them was very off putting. He was given a second to catch his breath before his stomach lurched and he continued to puke profusely on the concrete floor. Just when he thought he had nothing left inside him to bring up, he’d be proven wrong seconds later.

A flash of light suddenly brightened the room, and he realized that someone had just taken a picture of him. He didn’t have time to be angry about it though, as an agonizing jab of pain tore through his abdomen. He retched noisily as a small amount of putrid tasting liquid flowed from his mouth, and it was immediately followed by a mouthful of something that tasted even worse.

This was pure agony, Negan wouldn’t wish it upon his worst enemy. Sure, he’d eaten a lot, but this was ridiculous. Was he actually going to puke himself to death as everyone looked on in horror? Were his actual guts going to come up next? He briefly wondered which of his organs he’d see first.

Fortunately he never got the answer to that question. When nothing else came up after thirty seconds, he figured he was finally done. There was a lingering string dripping from his mouth, so he spat it into the lake of puke in front of him.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. It was all he could think to say.

When he looked up, the first thing he saw was Eugene looking at him. The portly scientist was holding a camera and gazing at him with his usual stony faced expression.

“I apologize for the photography,” he began. “However, I must admit that I am thoroughly, utterly, downright impressed by what you just did. Never in my entire life have I witnessed someone throw up like that. Hell, I didn’t even know it was humanly possible for so much vomit to come out of one person. Thus, I felt it was necessary to document it in the name of science.”

Negan truthfully didn’t know what to say to that. For once, he was at a loss for words. Then again, he did see Eugene’s logic. If he didn’t feel absolutely godawful, he’d be impressed with himself too. He scanned over the damage he did and realized Eugene was right. He had produced an insane amount of puke. Not only did he basically destroy the floor and Toby, it was all over himself too. It was on his jacket, his right hand, his pants and his boots.

As he knelt there, the situation was quickly becoming awkward because everyone was still silently staring at him. He felt someone grip his arm and help him up, and he wasn’t surprised that it was Simon. Of course it was. Negan could always count on him.

Arat stepped up next. “What the fuck are you all staring at? Back to work!” she commanded firmly. At her order, people began to disperse.

She stalked over to Toby, untied him, then pushed him down and threw a mop at him. “Clean this shit up.” she motioned to the huge mess Negan made. “If I’m not satisfied, you’re losing all your points.”

Despite feeling outright terrible, Negan smiled at that. He could always count on Arat and Simon to take charge and get stuff done. Not only that, but people listened to them.

Negan was rather unsteady on his feet, but he insisted that he didn’t need any assistance. He wasn’t an elderly woman who needed help crossing the street, he was a grown ass man. He could take care of himself. Still, Simon followed him anyway to make sure he didn’t pass out, which Negan was secretly grateful for. He’d never admit it though.

Once they arrived at the door to Negan’s bedroom, Simon addressed him.

“So, I’ve got to ask,” he began. “Should I head down to Alexandria and pick up that priest? The one with the creepy smile? Father Gabriel, right? I think an exorcism might be in order, because that was seriously some demonic possession style level shit back there!”

“Simon, I feel like shit that took a shit, ate said shit, and puked that shit right back up. That’s what I feel like right now.” Negan ranted. “But if I suddenly start speaking ancient Latin or bringing Rick supplies instead of taking them, then by all means, summon the preacher.”

His mind flashed to Rick, and he wondered what the man would think of him now, pitifully sick and covered in his own vomit. Rick would probably get off on it, or at least laugh hysterically. Maybe he’d even swipe Lucille and use her to put Negan out of his misery.

He sent Simon to find him some anti nausea medicine, or at least some Pepto Bismol, then slunk into his room. A hot shower was in order. When he wasn’t feeling well a long hot shower usually made him feel better, even if the relief was only temporary. He rinsed his mouth out to get rid of the acrid puke taste, then strode over to the shower and cranked on the hot water.

A scalding hot shower followed by a nap sounded like heaven. Hopefully he’d feel a little better afterwards, or at least well enough to drink some water. He didn’t want to get dehydrated. He looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and was taken aback at how pale he was. He almost looked dead. Maybe he should have Simon fetch Father Gabriel after all.

He chuckled weakly at the thought of himself tied to a bed as Gabriel stood over him, thrusting a crucifix in his face and shouting “DEMON! Exit this man’s body! The power of Christ compels you! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!” It would be pretty badass.

The water coming from the shower was so hot that steam was rising from the shower head, but that’s exactly what Negan wanted at the moment. He stripped off his soiled clothes and stepped in. Once the water hit him, he relaxed and felt a tiny bit better. He’d be fine in no time.

The shower had helped for all of twenty minutes. The relief he’d felt gradually faded away once he’d shut the water off, stepped out and changed into clean clothes. The nausea slowly came crawling back, wrecking havoc on his insides once more. It wasn’t long before he felt genuinely nauseous again.

At the moment, Negan was sitting on one of the small couches in his room with his head in his hands and a plastic bucket between his feet. As sick as he felt, he was stuck in that awful limbo where he wasn’t sure if he was going to throw up or not. He considered using the old finger down the throat trick but wasn’t sure if it would help much. Chances are he was going to feel absolutely terrible until whatever was causing this was filtered out of his system.

There was a knock at the door, and before Negan gave permission, it swung open to reveal Simon and Eugene.

“Hey buddy! How are you feeling?” Simon beamed at him.

Negan only groaned in response. A pink object was thrust in front of him. It was a bottle of Pepto Bismol.

“Here you go. Pepto Bismol, just as requested. I even got you a wine glass so you can drink it in style.” Simon added.

Eugene, who was holding a container in his hands, stepped towards Negan.

“It is my understanding that you likely cannot retain food and will not be able to for roughly twelve to twenty four hours. However it is imperative that you stay nourished, so I have taken it upon myself you offer you some leftovers. Sardine macaroni, made by yours truly.”

The scientist removed the lid and held the steaming bowl out to Negan.

The yellowish grey macaroni was loaded up with shriveled, oily sardines and the occasional fish eye or fin sliver here and there. Negan stared at it with repugnance for a second before the overwhelming fish smell coming from it flipped the switch on his nausea and triggered another vomiting episode.

Negan gagged and bent forward as he threw up all over the floor between his feet, somehow missing the bucket completely. Acting quickly, he picked it up and held it in his lap, getting it in place right in time to send another wave of puke splashing into it. He just barely got it all inside.

“Damn. How do you have anything left inside you?” Simon commented as he looked on with amusement. The expression on his face implied he was enjoying the show, perhaps in a very inappropriate way.

Eugene gave him a strange look as he realized that the lieutenant seemed overly interested in watching the lead savior puke his guts out. He couldn’t decipher why someone would get exited about that, but then again he had many odd quirks of his own.

Negan was too busy throwing up to notice that, so he responded by raising his middle finger at Simon. It was all he could do at the moment. His whole body lurched as an agonizing retch tore through him and more brown liquid poured from his mouth. By this point it was all liquid, except for a few solids that had been lurking in the very bottom of his stomach. It tasted truly awful and burned his throat as it came up. He heaved twice more before he was done. He had filled the bucket about a third of the way, and set it on the floor when he was sure no more was coming.

He flopped back and let himself sink into the couch. There was no word in existence intense enough to accurately describe how bad he felt. He didn’t know how it was possible, but he somehow felt even worse than he had before. The nausea wasn’t subsiding, his throat felt like it was on fire, his head was pounding, his eyes were watering and he still felt dizzy as well. He shut his eyes and remained silent for a minute before finally speaking.

“Eugene,” he began, gesturing at the offending bowl of sardine macaroni, “Get that shit away from me, or else I will projectile vomit all over you and you’ll be washing my lunch out of that fine mullet of yours.”

Eugene, not wanting to risk damage to his hair, promptly closed the lid on the bowl. “Fair enough. Sardines are a very particular brand of acquired taste. But if you ever change your mind, the offer is still on the table.”

“I think my face says it all when I say I’m a bit confused. Tell me, what would possess a sane man to think that sardines belong in mac and cheese? Why would you do that?” Simon asked him in a bewildered fashion.

“Because I like sardines.” Eugene explained. “Wether you find them palatable morsels of mercury infused goodness or downright appalling is irrelevant. Because at the end of the day, I did not make this for you.”

“Hey! One of you two assholes want to get me some water? Or are you just going to let me die?” Negan piped up from his position on the couch.

As if by magic, the door opened up again, this time signaling Arat’s arrival. She was holding a couple bottles of spring water. She looked from Negan to the partway full bucket to the puke on the floor and cringed a bit.

“You look like shit,” she said bluntly. “You’re not going to die on us, are you?”

“I might, Arat. I might. I am completely fucking out of commission. You’re in charge until I get better. These two,” he gestured to Eugene and Simon, “are going to take care of me.” Negan explained. He was laying on his back now, with half closed eyes.

Arat blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Negan nodded. “Go ahead. Pick up Lucille. Just remember to treat her like she’s your best friend in the whole world, and everything will be great. She’s a fickle mistress. She won’t tell you if she gets thirsty, so that’s up to you to figure out.”

The woman walked over to where Lucille was propped up against the wall. She picked the bat up, gave it a few test swings and smiled.

“Nice. I can see why you love her so much. Don’t worry, I’ll treat her like the magnificent lady she is.” Arat complimented. Though what she didn’t say was that she planned on referring to ‘her’ as ‘him’ or ‘Adrian’ as long as the bat was in her hands. She swung Adrian over her shoulder and gave Negan a bottle of water. “Here. Get better, and don’t die. This place needs you.”

With that, she turned and sauntered from the room.

The cool water felt amazing running down Negan’s irritated throat. He could feel the cold travel down his throat and spread through his stomach. Unfortunately, the euphoria was quickly replaced by nausea as his body swiftly began to reject the liquid.

“Oh god fucking damnit.” He bolted upright, swiped the bucket from the floor, and promptly threw up all the water he just drank.

Eugene awkwardly stared at Simon, who was starting to fidget as he watched Negan puke up all the water. It dawned on him that the other man was not repulsed, but aroused, which puzzled him greatly. He chose not to comment on it for the time being, but decided to amuse himself with a little experiment. He took the bucket away from Negan, who collapsed back onto the couch.

“Caring for others is not exactly my forte. I’ve always stayed in my own lane, and looked out only for me, myself and I. You could say that I’m selfish and be correct in that assumption. However, you have provided me with safety, shelter and all the ingredients I need to make my infamous sardine macaroni. Thus, after I dispose of the rather revolting contents of this pail I am going to scrounge around for some books. Medical books, to be precise. After reading up on the subject, I will do my best to lead you to a speedy recovery.”

Negan felt far too bad to even consider protesting as the scientist left the room, leaving him alone with Simon, who was doing his best to hide the very obvious hard on he had. He’d never hear the end of it if anyone found out that he got off on watching Negan vomit. He deliberately thought about unpleasant things, such as Fat Joey doing jumping jacks naked, to ward off the arousal. It worked.

Like Eugene, Simon wasn’t exactly the world’s best care taker. But, Negan was both his boss and his best friend, so he was going to try even though caring for people, or even just being nice, wasn’t in his nature. He practically had to drag Negan off the couch and onto the bed, as the other man wasn’t putting in any effort what so ever.

“You are way heavier than you look.” he panted as he dropped Negan onto the bed.

Even though he felt worse than he’d ever felt in his life, Negan managed a small snicker. “I wanted to see if you’d actually pick me up and carry me.”

For the next half hour or so, he remained sprawled out over the bed as Simon stayed with him and made sure he was alright. He laid motionless, completely unmoving until the urge to puke wormed its way back yet again. He didn’t even curse this time.

Actually getting up and walking into the bathroom was going to be the difficult part. He had no energy at all, as even moving his head was a strenuous task. By the time he managed to partially sit up, it was already too late. He clasped his hand over his mouth, but it did nothing to stop the acid that was starting to rise. He retched and yellowish bile cascaded over his fingers and onto the white T shirt he was wearing. Having accepted defeat, he rolled onto his side and puked all over his bedsheets. He didn’t even try to get off the bed. Well past the point of caring, he simply laid there as waves of bile gushed from his mouth. In the midst of heaving he heard a sharp gasp come from beside the bed, then what sounded like no followed by a string of obscenities.

Negan dry heaved a couple times, then moaned and curled up into a ball. He didn’t even care that he was covered in his own vomit for the second time today. Nor did he care who saw him or who knew. He, the big bad wolf, had essentially been reduced to a defenseless pup and he felt too shitty to give even a fraction of a crap about it. Hell, Rick could be standing over him, Lucille in hand, about to give him a taste of his own medicine and he wouldn’t care. That’s how awful he felt. The nausea was finally beginning to recede a little, but he was in a lot of pain due to the sheer amount he had thrown up over the past couple hours. He thought he may have broken some sort of world record. He felt like he had at least a dozen acid tipped knives stuck in various places around his guts and throat. Even breathing hurt.

“Am I dead yet?” he groaned hoarsely. His voice was somewhat muffled as his face was buried in one of the pillows.

“No.” Simon looked flustered but also concerned for Negan’s well being. He awkwardly shifted position.

“How about now?”

“No.”

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you just cum in your pants?”

“.......n....yes.....”

“I knew it.”

Simon wasn’t a prudish or easily frazzled person, but he suddenly found himself unable to look at Negan and wished that a walker would sneak up on him and rip his throat out.

“I don’t blame you,” Negan said deliriously. He was so exhausted and worn out that he was falling asleep despite the intense pain. “Because....”

He trailed off for a second, on the verge of sleep.

“....every fucking thing I do is hot.”

#emetophilia #puking #sick fic #The Walking Dead #negan

[wellhalesbells]

help I just finished the raven cycle. now what??

i mean, firstly, mourn.  i cannot stress the importance of this step enough.  take the time to sob and rage and fall apart about the fact that you have finished this series that is just head and shoulders above nearly every other.  because that did happen and it does blow.  i suggest a lot of laying on the floor or under your bed, eating tacos, and being generally despondent.  also if you feel the need to wear black for a year or keep your curtains drawn 24/7, well, that’s totally acceptable.

once that’s done, we’re ready to reenter the literary world!  probably, and ish.  to help ease the transition, i would suggest trying to pinpoint what you most loved from that series and then working from there.  was it the fantasy elements, the characters, the lgbt-ness, the young adult-ness or just the straight-up pretty writing?  here are a few things that might help fill the void (though do recognize that none will be perfect and, factually, your life is just emptier now):

FANTASY 

[admittedly, i do not have a lot of fantasy on my shelves because i need long breaks between for that genre, but here are a few of my more recent reads]

the scorpio races - going from maggie to maggie is never a bad idea.  i will concede that it took me way longer to get into this one than it did the raven cycle, but i did eventually get there and the characters were heaps more established (and rational) than what’s usually on offer in a YA read!

the grisha trilogy - okay, so i really got into this because it has such a well-drawn villain.  meaning: he’s fucking gray, like all good villains should be.  you can sympathize with him and i was surprised to find that i cared what happened to him, not just to our hero.  the story and characters were also really great.  and if you want to jump off this trilogy into the six of crows duology (LGBT+), my only advice would be: don’t let your expectations get too high.  unfortunately, i went in expecting it to be the raven cycle’s equivalent and, for me, it did not have that same depth.  good, for sure, but on trc’s level?  not so much, in my opinion, and i wish i’d known not to expect that going in because i feel like i would’ve enjoyed it more if i had.

the dream-quest of vellitt boe - lovecraft with laaaaadies.

3-DIMENSIONAL CHARACTERS

mosquitoland - this book can be a little hard at times but, woooow, did i fall in love with mim.  this had just the right amounts of humor and heart for me.

station eleven -considering this jumps timelines and characters, it’s monumentally impressive that you can feel such a connection to and investment in everyone’s stories.

LGBT+

simon vs the homo sapiens agenda - this is cuuuuuuute and i just love everyone and want the absolute best for them because they so deserve it and it shook out just how i wanted it to.

a place called winter - this is another one that’s hard, but worth it, i think.  it’s a sweeping story, spanning decades and continents and hammering in the historical hardships that came from being any letter on the lgbt+ spectrum during the pioneer era.

the watchmaker of filigree street - historical fiction, in general, is pretty much a turn-off for me because it’s dense and overly drawn a lot of the time (i get it, it’s the 1800s, can we shut up about the details every three seconds please, UGH).  but if there were ever a book that was going to turn me completely around on that, it would be this one because WOW, YES.

flying lessons and other stories - a slew of sexually and racially diverse stories from some truly brilliant authors!

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe - ohhhhh it’s pretty.  and soft.  and full of love and fear and understanding.  it hurts my heart with how tender it is.  [weeps]

idyll threats - you know how there are five million ‘cop/sheriff/detective in a small town’ mystery series that just go on and on forever and never end?  WELL NOW WE HAVE ONE FOR THE LBGT COMMUNITY.  the second book just came out last month and i want everyone to support these if you can; i want there to be so many i can’t count the number on my fingers and toes anymore, i want thomas lynch to be a friggin’ household name, i want a terrible movie franchise and an awkwardly posed poster on my wall, okay?  I WANT THIS TO BE A THING PLEASE.

YOUNG ADULT

the illuminae files - these books are dope.  they’re engaging not only story-wise but also visually, the text forms images, the fire fights are chaotic smashings of words, the space walks are delicate tight-ropes of sentences and then, on top of that, the characters and the twists and turns of the story?  oh my BUH-GOD.  this series is breath-takingly good and so freaking smart, okay?  it just is.  IT IS.

i’ll meet you there - i liked every single detail of this book and they’re all… still there.  i read this quite a bit ago and i remember so much of it.  i don’t remember what i had for lunch an hour ago but i remember this book.  so.  that’s pretty cool.

the merciless - all right, all right, all right, i have to qualify this.  because i was not a fan of the ending.  maybe you will be, i don’t know, i - personally - was not.  BUT everything leading up to that ending?  yeah huh!  it was some good-ass suspense.  as of right now, i’ve only read the first book of this series but… i think i am going to keep going with it.  it’s hard to get me to squirm but this book managed it and i think i have to chase that, right?

WRITING

the secret history (LGBT+ minor character) - i said i would never recommend this book to people (it is long.  and dense.  and depressing) but, lookit, that turned out to be a fucking lie.  it feels historical even though it’s contemporary and it is such a complete story?  i mean, i know this story, i know these characters, i was thrust into those pages.  and i loved it.  if you need your characters to be likable though?  NOT the book for you, haha.

autopsy (LGBT+) - i read a fair amount of poetry these days.  i like very little poetry.  this?  this i liked a crap-ton.  donte collins is a friggin’ wordsmith, man.

the princess saves herself in this one - another poetry book i enjoyed!  i really love watching skilled people play with language, what can i say?

we were liars - okay, so, this is another odd one for me to recommend because… i did not like it.  like, at all.  i mean, i did like it a lot, and then the ending came and obliterated any positive thoughts i’d had about it (because i feel like it breaks the contract with the reader and that makes things just… not cool imo, but whatever).  HOWEVER i did find the writing really, really lovely.  it has a gorgeous, soothing flow to it.  and, again, some people may really like the ending and, in that case, this would be a super great book for you because the writing is really simple but nice, y’know?

american housewife - an awesome book of awesome short stories written very awesomely!

i’ll give you the sun (LGBT+) - the writing in this makes me want to fall to my knees with how good it is.  i just can’t.  i could go on and on for days.  it feels like it’s something that should’ve taken centuries to craft because it is so lovingly put together and it just–it makes you feel all the feels, okay.

everything i never told you (LGBT+ minor characters) - i like this book so much more in retrospect.  but it does the adult fiction thing that every fucking adult fiction book does and that made me so mad at the time.  but, beyond that, it’s a unique and well-told story!

things we lost in the fire - my favorite horror book i’ve read in a good long while.  mariana enriquez is a master at building up a creepy atmosphere.  it’s not gore and guts as much as it is a mounting sense of doom that’s entirely constructed through words and imagery that are so damn well-crafted.  really hoping for more english translations of her work because she is just so skilled a writer.

middlesex (LGBT+) - this took me a while to read because it is the very full history of three different generations of stephanides between those covers but, wow, is it well-written.  it’s moving and deep and winding and detailed and fucking worthwhile.

#.1 < .5k #the raven cycle #the grishaverse #six of crows #the secret history #middlesex #things we lost in the fire #everything i never told you #i'll give you the sun #the merciless #we were liars #the princess saves herself in this one #i'll meet you there #the illuminae files #simon vs the homo sapiens agenda #the watchmaker of filigree street #aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe #the scorpio races #station eleven #mosquitoland #flying lessons and other stories #idyll threats #a place called winter #i want you to know that it actually did not take me *this* long to answer #i already wrote this out *once* and tumblr. fucking. ate. it. #i was sooooo pissed that i put this off again #sorry for my utter lameness #but i think we can all agree... it's really tumblr's fault #hope this helps though nonster (belated though it is)! #!ask