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penguinsledder · 2 years

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Musical Breakdown of A Whole New World's instrumentation (Original vs Live Action)

So I went and did it lol. This is going to be long.

Disclaimer: I’m a pianist and a hobbyist arranger so like, this is all based on my limited knowledge and just … vibes. I’m not 100% sure about the instruments I identify because honestly I just learned to pick out orchestra instruments recently. But hey, I’m still gonna go off in this PERSONAL analysis lol because I think orchestration really gets underappreciated in how much it’s able to contribute to the overall emotion the listener feels.

Ok so first of all, music is about expression and sending a message to your audience. You’re trying to convey something. So let’s being by setting some facts straight: The song is about a magic carpet ride. The singers are soaring through the sky, completely enamored by how beautiful everything is and how freeing it is from up in the sky, and in each other’s company. I think we can all agree on this general message.

Now then, let’s see how the instrumentation affects how this is conveyed. I won’t be talking too much about the vocal performance because I’m not a singer lol. Imo all singers did a generally good job tho, and my main gripes are not with them.

Some terms that might need explanation: crescendo – gradually gets louder diminuendo - gradually gets softer arpeggio – broken chord sixteenth notes – notes that last for ¼ of a beat glissando – a slide between 2 notes

Overview:

The original is light and colorful, with a bias towards soprano instruments. The piano, which can do a whole range of notes, is the one that carries the bass of the song (and well probs some strings like the cello, but they don’t get heavy). There’s a general theme of low notes ascending crescendo scales/glissandos/arpeggios/sixteenth notes. Another theme is starting low and embellishing the ends of the phrases with high pitched notes and instruments. I think this is quite fitting for the whole feel of awestruck wonder, and taking off from the ground before soaring through the sky. These all help give the listener the feeling of well, elation, soaring, floating, etc. “high” or “up” seems to be the theme. There’s no percussion in the song, so there’s nothing really keeping it grounded.

As for the live action: It's heavy. It’s grand. It’s explosive. It feels like the drummer had this intense main character syndrome and just went off by themselves.

But the guitar addition was nice—it adds a different vibe that I do like. Honestly the intro was a different vibe that was enjoyable in its own way. It just doesn’t balance out how … idk where the other choices are coming from. I am struggling to see the context in the choices, as this song about flying and romance is—albeit grand, really so heavy that it cannot take off.

Intro

OG: basically a piano arpeggio (aka broken chord) with … flute (?), a glockenspiel, and a harp. The piano intro starts in the usual low register, and is accented by the high-pitched instruments at the end of the phrases. There’s a tentative, wondering feeling, which ties well with Jasmine’s tentativeness at the start.

LA: instead of an arpeggio, it’s piano with strings setting up the atmosphere. Takes a bit of getting used to, but it’s also okay—it’s a different kind of uncertainty, one that is purer and more innocent. Or maybe not exactly uncertainty, but rather a shyness. But it still works imo, it’s just a diff vibe which is fine.

I can show you the world Shining, shimmering, splendid Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide? I can open your eyes Take you wonder by wonderOver, sideways and under on a magic carpet ride

OG: Chimes, flute, oboe (?), piano, harp, strings (esp violin). The piano is still carrying most of the bass, while the rest of the instruments are there to keep things sounding light. It should be noted that the piano is playing around the second octave to the 3rd/4th (?) Not sure exactly but considering the 4th octave is where middle C is, you can see they refuse to go too low and make it heavy. The winds are providing the countermelody, while the harp glissandos and chimes are there to tickle us and give that “magical” feeling every now and then.

LA: Most noticeable is the addition of the guitar. It slightly veers away from the more traditional orchestra instruments by adding a guitar. That’s fine, it’s a nice touch, Aladdin isn’t really some fancy king, and guitars are associated with a more “commonfolk” vibe, as this is also a much more accessible instrument than the other orchestra instruments. It’s a vibe I’m digging, honestly, so kudos for that.

We’re having some heavy bass here but it still sounds good. The guy is of course singing in a lower register, and we’re just starting out. This has a more earnest vibe to it. More grounded. More down-to-earth. It’s romantic in its own way, and I guess it fits the whole realism live action thing.

A whole new world A new fantastic point of view No one to tell us "No", or where to goOr say we're only dreaming

OG: The strings become a more prominent force here in the chorus, also in the higher register. The high-pitched violins are giving more substance than the winds earlier (as you want to have a stronger sound in the chorus), and they accompany the harp as well in its crescendo to give it more force. The winds still embellish the last parts of the phrases. The instrumentation continues to stay biased towards the higher register.

LA: From being quite quiet and earnest with the instrumentation, it just … EXPLODES. IDK WHY. It’s like a bomb goes off. The percussion is so. Fucking. In your face. Which is a choice I just really don’t understand. You can have light percussion!! Why is this so heavy, like they suddenly started that overemphasized drum track you get at karaoke. Or when you just add that backing track beat from your electric keyboard.

Idk like it sounds a bit more pop-ish, and while I am fan of pop, the drums are just stripping the song of any magic. Can’t we have some magic because live action be damned, THIS IS A FUCKING FLYING CARPET. NOTHING REALISTIC ABOUT THIS.

A whole new world A dazzling place I never knew But when I'm way up here It's crystal clear That now I'm in a whole new world with you

OG: Ah, Lea comes in with her show-stopping voice. I’ve always admired how she really puts the “clear” in crystal clear with her delivery, but one detail I failed to notice initially was how at the start and end of that line, the glock sounds a delicate note, completely solidifying that crystal imagery. It’s just such a good detail.

In “that now I’m in a whole new world with you”, the melody dips lower and the instruments back off a bit, leaving the piano and some ambient strings. This sets up yet another crescendo glissando (this time joined by Brad’s singing) to transition into the next verse! It’s evident this is a recurring thematic choice, and this up and down theme and a low start climbing and building up to explode into sparkles is just so satisfying each time!

LA: Again, why is the beat so heavy???? It’s drowning everything else out. Cymbals??? What???? THE TOMS???? ABSOLUTELY KILL THE MOOD????? It's like they got a drummer and he had this main character syndrome 😭

Unbelievable sights, indescribable feeling Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling Through an endless diamond sky

OG: This might be my absolute favorite bit in this entire song—it just really makes me go *clenches fist* *goosebumps* *chills down spine* *tears in eyes* so good. I think the piccolo (?) (Or maybe flute and piccolo?) shines here, and the glock gets more prominent. These are extremely effective at producing a twinkling, sparkling sound, which makes you think of stars in the night sky, or more specifically, “an endless diamond sky”. There’s also a short run of descending sixteenth notes from the piccolo again (or flute?) that makes you think of tripping or well, tumbling, right exactly when Lea sings “soaring, tumbling, freewheeling”. The piccolo also repeats that small run at “diamond” which just tickles hehe. The piccolo and glock are very cute instruments, and they absolutely shone (or better yet, twinkled) in this verse. Such good choices.

LA: Ok I like the tension the strings add here. It’s not the light sparkly beauty of the original but it’s reminiscent, a stronger version. It matches the deeper, darker (?) quality of Naomi's voice compared to Lea's. BUT AGAIN WHAT IS THE HEAVY PERCUSSION DOING HERE. WITH THE CYMBALS. IT’S REALLY THAT BACKING TRACK YOU ACCIDENTALLY PRESS ON YOUR KEYBOARD. There's also brass doing the countermelody? It goes with the heavier sound but yeah idk you already have a lot making this song heavy and then you add brass to make it … heavier. But the brass touch is still better than whatever is going on with the percussion.

A whole new world (Don't you dare close your eyes) A hundred thousand things to see (Hold your breath, it gets better) I'm like a shooting star, I've come so far I can't go back to where I used to be A whole new world (Every turn, a surprise) With new horizons to pursue (Every moment, red-letter) I'll chase them anywhere There's time to spare Let me share this whole new world with you

OG: They’re doing the crescendo glissandos almost every line now! But aside from that, yeah they’re keeping the general theme they did last chorus. At the end of this, though, they seem to be setting up a landing, so while the glissando still happens, there’s no crescendo.

LA: Ok we have those harp glissando crescendo but instead of it exploding into sparkles I feel like it gets smashed back down by the cymbal crash??? LIKE THE MAGIC IS TRYING TO HAPPEN BUT THE PERCUSSION KEEPS SMOTHERING IT. The individual beat emphasis for “I’m. Like. A. Shooting staarr” WHAT WHY WHY WHY. This is not it. That is not the vibe. I do enjoy pop music and rock music and just … music where drums are heavily used but this is not it!!!!

The strings are similar to the original and the harp glissandos are still there and the vocalists are killing it and then the cymbals just crash in on “wooorrrllld” PLEASE STOP.

AND DID THEY USE THE TOMS IN THE LANDING SET UP PART. WHAT. THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE ROMANTIC AND SLOWING DOWN. Like ok they ended it with a soft cymbal crash but you could have like … not done that at all. IT's REALLY SUCH A VIBE KILLER.

A whole new world (A whole new world) That's where we'll be (That's where we'll be) A thrilling chase (A wondrous place) For you and Me

OG: It seems our fliers are about to descend from their earlier high, so the music is changing to express that. The tempo gets slower, there’s a very gradual diminuendo. The oboe (?) is back, and we’re going into a lower register, the one in the first verse. The glock is still there to add that occasional tickle.

I do like that they make the piccolo/flute (sorry I really am not good at telling them apart yet) do that ascending run at “a thrilling chase” because the high pitch during this “landing” catches us a bit off guard (we’re supposed to be descending and slowing down now!) so that really does make it feel like we were chased. The surprise is a small thrill.

LA: Ok I can deal with these single high hats (?) at the start of each measure. It’s actually nice. THIS is using it well.

OUTRO

OG: The vocals are at a low note, the fliers have landed and their voices slowly fade out. It is now time for us listeners to leave them on the ground, and prepare for the final sparkler sendoff. The flute and piano do the high pitched outro melody. The flute then sustains its note to keep us in the sky while the ritardando arpeggio from the piano climbs back up again to build up tension enough to set up the last sparkle/firework for that magical feel, courtesy of chimes and a quick piano arpeggio. They probably wanted to emphasize and sustain the lightness at the end though for like movie scene purposes so the strings carry that well and then die down.

LA: So the strings handle the melody while the singers are still singing. That's alright. Kind of gives a heavy romantic vibe.

The guitar and piano take over doing melody when the voices sing their last line, and it’s a nice touch, calling back to the intro. Thankfully the percussion is gone by this point. The strings also serve the purpose of sustaining the last note, like in the original.

So that's it. If you made it this far, honestly, thank you for reading. I super appreciate it. If you have any of your own thoughts to share, I'd love to hear them!

#aladdin #jasmine #disney princess #a whole new world #lea salonga #brad kane #naomi scott #mena massoud #disney #my commentary #first time i actually sat and typed down my thoughts about music and random analyses

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months

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Will there be another part to your cult Steve x reader fic

most likely not since i practically never write sequels. but if you have an idea for how it could continue or a scenario in the same au, then feel free to send them my way!

#i don’t usually answer these types of ‘part two please and now’ asks #but this time i did #then again i am trying and failing to sleep rn #i am fully aware of the positive intent when people comment or send those asks #but i do hope that you’re also aware of what it is actually like #i am a human being #writing is tough #i am not a monkey who some random person can force to dance #now there is a difference. if you truly do want more #if you wanna increase your chances #then please be kind #and send it in as a request #work with me #share the little sparks and thoughts the story left in you #let me know whatever big or small idea you have to continue it #that will increase your chances of getting more #the other is just an insult #lea answers

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drudyslut · 1 month

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Pretty Blue Eyes — R.C

— summary: you see rafe at a party after he’d dumped you, and it hurts more than you thought it would.

— CW: 18+ only! angst, strong language, alcohol consumption, drunk!reader, hurt/no comfort.

— a/n: i’m so sorry. i love angst and when i’m sad, i have to make y’all sad too. this angst prompts list gave me ideas and i used dialogues 3, 14 and 20<3 likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

I never knew losing him would hurt so much. Losing the one person I’d spent the last six months of my life with.

Six months might not seem like much to some, I understand people have gone through greater losses. But I’d fallen in love with him. Fallen in love with all the meaningless words he’d said. Fallen in love with his scent, his touch, his pretty blue eyes.

But he never loved me. I was just a game. Something to use to pass the time. I boosted his ego, made him feel special. And all the while, he was using me. Playing me. Making me fall in love with him, just so he could break my heart. It was random, and very unexpected. Four words was all it took to shatter my heart into a million little pieces — “I never loved you.” is what he’d said.

To make matters worse? He’d told me this right after we’d had sex. I gave myself to him. My whole self. And he took. He took and took, but never gave. He took until there was nothing left for me to give. He owned my soul, my heart, my body. He owned me, but I never owned him.

That was three days ago. Three days of crying myself to sleep, three days of not eating and drinking myself to death. Three days since I’d seen his face. I’ve tried to avoid him, but I knew I’d see him again. We live on a small fucking island for Christs sake. And he’s everywhere. He’s very well known. There’s no escaping him. And tonight proves that. He’s here. His pretty blue eyes watching me from across the room. I wish I could show him I don’t care, that he didn’t rip my fucking heart out and stomp on it…

But I can’t. I still love him.

“Are you okay?”

My best friend, Ashlyn’s, voice pulls me from the darkness I’ve allowed myself to crawl into. I slowly turn to face her, light brown eyes filled with concern intensely stare back at me.

I put on my best fake smile. “Yeah. Fine, why?”

Lie. I’m not okay, and I don’t know if I ever will be. But I can’t admit that.

She frowns. “You’re not okay though, I can see it in your eyes. Do you wanna leave? We can lea-”

I quickly cut her off. “No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just go get another drink. I’m gonna need them if I’m going to last here all night.”

Her frown deepens, but she nods her head. I internally thank the Heavens that she dropped the subject. I don’t want to talk about Rafe and how he’d absolutely obliterated my heart.

She grabs my hand, lacing her fingers with mine before pulling me off to the kitchen, and out of the eyesight of the beautiful, blue eyed man I once had all to myself.

“I’m thinking shots of fireball. Shit will get you drunk so fast.”

I laugh. “The alcohol version of red hot gum, I’m down.”

Laughing at my lame attempt at a joke, she grips the neck of the bottle, grabbing two shot glasses next and filling them both to the rim. I quickly grab mine, tossing it back and swallowing the harsh amber liquid. A shiver wracks my body as the burning liquid makes its way down my throat.

I cough, placing my hand over my stomach. “Fuck, I forget how much that shit burns.”

Ashlyn chuckles. “Yeah. But that’s what makes it great. The burn of this can help erase the burn you feel from Rafe being a royal douche.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. She’s right. I prefer the burn of the liquor over the burn of Rafe and his heartbreaking words.

She quickly fills the shot glasses again, handing me mine and watching as I down the amber liquid once more.

I slam the shot glass back on the counter. “Another, please.”

She smiles widely. “Atta girl. You’ll forget about the smug bastard by the end of the night at this rate.”

***

Ashlyn was right. I was…. twenty shots in?? I don’t fucking know, I was drunk. And I wasn’t thinking about the pretty blue eyed man.

I’m about to take another shot when a voice I didn’t want to hear anytime soon has me dropping the glass on the floor, clear liquid spilling at my feet as the glass shatters — representing my heart because of him.

“Y/N… I think you should cut yourself off and go home.. I’ll take you.”

I snap my head in his direction, those damn pretty blue eyes staring down at me. Looking at me like I actually meant something to him. Lies. He doesn’t give a fuck. He just doesn’t want me embarrassing him tonight. Fuck him.

With shaky hands, I grab another glass from the counter, my eyes never leaving his. I reach out and find the tall, glass bottle of Tito’s, pouring myself another shot and then downing it with my eyes on his.

“Fuck you, Rafe.”

He sighs, setting his beer bottle on the counter and placing his hands on my shoulders. His blue eyes search my face.

“Y/N. Please, go home. You’re drunk, and you’re hurting.”

I roll my eyes and scoff. Fuck him for trying to pretend he cares. He doesn’t give a shit about me. And I’m done caring about him.

“Stop acting like you give a fuck about me, Rafe. You dumped me. So it’s done. I just want to get drunk, and fucking forget I ever loved you.”

He glances behind me, his eyes taking in everyone that’s watching us. “Hey, can we please go talk outside?”

I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but he grabs my hand, pulling me outside. I’m so drunk I can’t fight him off. He pulls me all the way down the stairs of the front porch and down the long driveway until we reach his truck.

He opens the passenger door, tossing me inside and slamming it shut behind him. My heavy eyes watch him round the front of the truck before he hops inside the driver seat. He pulls the keys out of his pocket, sticking them into the ignition and bringing the truck to life.

I cross my arms over my chest with a huff. “Where the fuck are you taking me, Rafe?”

He glances at me from the corner of his eye before placing them back on the road. “Home.” comes his clipped answer.

I lean my head against the window. Why does he do this? He left me. Why does he care if I’m drunk at a party or not? Why can’t he just leave me alone and let me heal?

The smell of leather and his cologne fills my nose. I feel the tears begin burning the backs of my eyes, and I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. I lift my head, turning my head to the side to look at him. He still looks so good, and it hurts. He has one hand firmly gripping the steering wheel and the other lays lazily in his lap.

He has on a tight baby blue polo, and khakis with a backwards hat on. I want him to kiss me, and tell me everything will be okay. Tell me that he made a mistake and he does love me. But I know that won’t happen. He meant what he said, and there’s no getting him back, no matter how badly I want him back.

A few minutes later, he’s pulling into the driveway of my parents house. He puts the truck in park and hops out, rounding the truck to my side and opening the door for me.

He reaches his hand out, and I take it. My heart pulls in my chest at the feel of his touch again. I miss him.

He helps me out of the truck, and walks me to the front door. I turn and face him, wanting to get some things off my chest before he goes.

“Why’d you do it?” I ask softly, tears stinging at my eyes and threatening to spill.

He sighs, and the look in his eyes hold slight regret. “I can’t answer that… I just, I didn’t want to be with you anymore. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process, but I couldn’t pretend to love you when I didn’t.”

The first tear falls, and I blink rapidly, swiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I still don’t understand what I did wrong..”

He places a hand on my shoulder, and I can’t stop the sob that is pulled from me.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N… I promise. I know this is so cliché, but it’s not you, it’s me. I just couldn’t commit.”

The tears are now flowing uncontrollably down my face and my body is shaking. I’m in pain. And he’s making it worse.

“I love you, Rafe. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.. I just can’t. You need to stop loving me.”

I choke out a sob. “I don’t want to love you anymore. But I do.”

He sighs, letting his head fall and his eyes look to the ground.

This is the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I’m not getting him back. I’ll never have Rafe Cameron in my life again. And that thought alone has me spiraling into a depression I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back from.

“Say something, Rafe.” I choke out.

His head lifts, and his eyes find mine again. He’s went from looking regretful, to angry in just seconds.

“What do you want me to say? I left you. And now you’re showing up to my friend’s house, getting fucking wasted and causing a scene. What the fuck do you want from me? I can’t fucking force myself to love you! I just fucking can’t! I’m sorry, but that’s the fucking truth. I never fucking loved you, Y/N. Let it the fuck go.”

Another harsh sob wracks my body as I come to terms with the fact that he truly never loved me. He never cared about me. He used me, and I let him. I grab my house key out of my small purse and stick it into the lock. I push open the front door, turning to face him before I walk inside, I say, “I could have lived without knowing you never meant anything you told me. You fucking broke me, Rafe. You ruined me. A once bright and happy fucking woman, and you’ve shattered me. I fucking hate you, and I hope you’re happy. Please, just leave me the fuck alone.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I slam the door in his face, quickly locking it and sliding my back down the door until my ass hits the floor. I bring my knees up to my chest, curling in on myself. I let out a loud scream, knowing my parents aren’t home tonight. Sobs wrack my entire body and I feel the physical pain in my chest from where he once lived. He fucking broke me, and I will never forgive him for that.

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softhairedhotch · 6 months

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comfortember day six: notes aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader you leave secret notes for aaron to remind him to take care of himself. when you stop after a bad case, he starts leaving you notes too. word count: 2.2k warnings/content: mentions of food, eating, weddings, life stuff. flirting, taking care of each other, cutesy lovey fluff.

comfortember masterlist here!

also on ao3!

green and yellow sticky notes

Before becoming a new recruit at the BAU, you were very aware of all the rumours surrounding your new co-workers. About how they handle cases with high-end professionalism and no emotion, how they’re not afraid to break the law a little to solve a case, how they don’t mind getting their hands dirty. But when you move to the division you find that that’s not (entirely) true. The team are lovely and, when not on a case, deal with everything the same as everyone else: cracking jokes, lifting each other up and making everyone around them laugh, and getting food with each other to pass the time.

All except for Aaron.

He joins in when he can, smiling occasionally and making the odd joke or two, but from what you can tell, he keeps mostly to himself to remain professional as the team’s boss. However, after a few months of working alongside him, you realise that he often overworks himself, picking up odd hours in the office and working overtime, and forgets to take care of himself in the process. He survives off coffee and spite alone, something that both intrigues and concerns you.

It pains you that he doesn’t care for himself as much as he should and, as time goes on and you find yourself helplessly falling in love with the man, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You smile as an idea pops into your head one day when you're struck in the office and you reach out to grab your stack of green sticky notes and a pen. Scribbling down a quick message ('don't forget to eat!' with a smiley face in the corner), you remove it from the pile and fold it neatly, shoving it into your pocket and waiting for the perfect moment to drop it where it needs to go.

It’s almost an hour later when Aaron leaves his office for a bathroom break and you smirk to yourself as you grab a random file from your desk and make your way up the stairs. Glancing around to make sure no one’s paying attention, you slip inside the empty office and pull the note from your pocket, placing it on his desk and leaving as quickly as you entered.

Making your way down the stairs, you see Aaron already making his way back to his office with his head buried in his phone. You suddenly grow anxious at the thought of him finding the note–would he think it's weird? What if he knew it was you immediately, even though you modified your handwriting to make it harder to distinguish? What if he called you into the office to tell you he's reporting you to HR?

Forcing the thoughts out of your mind, you sit back at your desk and brace yourself for Aaron's reaction, whatever it may be. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron unfold the note and read it a few times, flipping it over to see if there's anything on the back. He looks confused, rightfully so, before standing up and looking out at the bullpen like a hunter stalking his prey.

Derek, who sits across from you, looks up at him lazily with interest before raising an eyebrow in your direction in a silent question. You shrug and give him a half-convincing smile as if to say you don't know what's going on either, looking back at your computer and pretending to focus so he doesn't feel the need to pry.

To your surprise, Aaron says nothing. Instead, he makes his way to the kitchenette and pulls out a container from the fridge, glancing at it to determine whether or not he should heat it up. You smirk to yourself as you realise your plan worked, watching as he finally throws it into the microwave and leans against the counter with his arms crossed and eyes closed in thought.

After that day, you find yourself leaving more notes. Messages along the lines of 'stay hydrated <3' and 'get some sleep tonight man!' and 'there's some pasta in the fridge, enjoy :)'. Secretly, of course, and at times he wouldn't be able to suspect it's you. Although after a few weeks pass, you figure he already knows who's leaving the notes but hasn't brought it up because he appreciates the reminders to drink water and get some fresh air.

You find yourself unable to gather enough energy to leave him notes, however, after a particularly gruesome case that hit far too close to home and messed you up more than you'd like to admit. Going to work feels like a chore and you don't have it in yourself to brighten his day, no matter how much you wish you could.

A week passes and you still can't shake the case, walking into work feeling like the weight of the world rests on your shoulders. You're early, unable to get any sleep the night before, and you notice the bullpen is mostly deserted as you make your way to your desk. You sit down with a sigh, holding back tears and bouncing your leg as you pull items out of your bag. The sight of something on your keyboard catches your attention and you freeze at the sight of a yellow sticky note sitting on top of the keys, neatly folded.

Interested, you carefully unfold the note and almost sob at the message scrawled out in capital letters: 'TAKE THINGS EASY TODAY.' It’s clear that whoever wrote it tried their best to make the handwriting as unrecognisable as they could but you have a sneaky suspicion of who left it.

As you push it into your pocket, wanting to keep it on you so you can reread it throughout the day, Aaron walks into the bullpen and sends you a gentle smile as he heads up to his office. You watch him settle down at his desk, pulling out his own items from his briefcase before casually adjusting his yellow sticky notes on his desk with a focused expression. Your heart misses a beat and you feel as light as a feather, knowing that you just fell for him even more. After that, your day is infinitely better.

There's an hour before your shift ends when your stomach starts growling at you. Sighing to yourself, you push away from your desk and make your way to the bathroom for a small break, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as thoughts of Aaron invade your mind. The thought of him leaving a note for you made your heart swell multiple sizes and you had to restrain yourself from giggling out loud at the thought, feeling happier than you have in days.

You make your way back to your desk to refill your coffee cup when you find another note, yellow like the last one, neatly folded on top of your case file. You chuckle to yourself and glance up to Aaron’s office, his eyes meeting yours for a moment between the open blinds before he looks away as if he wasn’t looking at you at all, and you grin as you open the note.

‘YOU HAVEN’T EATEN YET.’

Emily raises an eyebrow at you when you let out a loud snort and slap your hand over your mouth. You shake your head at her and send her a look as if to say you’ll tell her later before looking back at the note and laughing quietly to yourself. The way he words it, so factual and certain, makes you feel warm. It’s so him, even when he’s clearly trying not to be.

Shoving the note in your pocket, you make your way to the kitchenette to heat up some leftover pasta. A few minutes later Aaron is sidling up beside you, pouring fresh coffee into his mug. It’s silent for a few moments as you both focus on your own tasks.

“Thanks for reminding me to eat,” you say, smiling at him.

He stills for a moment. “Sorry?”

You laugh and shake your head fondly at him. “Don’t play stupid, Hotchner. I know it’s you leaving the notes.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. "It hasn't even been a full day. Was I that obvious?"

You snort. “Hotch… you wrote them in all caps and ended both messages with a period. They sound exactly like something you’d say anyway; even the tone felt like you. Didn’t even take me two seconds to figure out who it was, even with the poor attempt at changing up the handwriting.”

Aaron raises his eyebrows and pretends to look offended. "Poor attempt? I think it was pretty good!"

“In your dreams, maybe.”

“Well, what about your notes? I could tell it was you from a mile away.”

“Really?”

“...No. It took me about two weeks to realise.”

You let out a loud laugh as you pull your food from the microwave. Aaron smiles at you with bright eyes as he sips at his coffee, wincing when it burns his tongue.

“Two weeks, Mr. Profiler? We oughta get you an award for that.”

“Yeah. Make sure it says I’m the unit chief too so that everyone knows I suck at my job. Couldn’t even figure out it was my own subordinate leaving me notes.”

You smirk at him as you stir your pasta. "Is that all I am to you? Your subordinate?"

Aaron's face turns serious and he tilts his head to the side. "Of course not." He rubs the pad of his thumb idly against his closed fist for a few moments. "Thank you. For the, the notes. I didn't realise how bad I was at taking care of myself until you started reminding me to."

"Yeah," you chuckle, "you're pretty bad, to say the least."

"Seems like you've been going through the same thing this week, though. Don't want you turning into me."

You sigh. "Yeah. Just… that last case…"

His hand slowly lands on your shoulder and he gives you an empathetic smile. “I understand. My office is always open if you ever want to talk. It doesn’t necessarily have to be about the case but I’m there for that too.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. And you… can come to me about anything, too. Just want you to know that.”

Aaron’s smile widens as he pulls back. “Thank you. I’ll leave you to eat. Speak to you later, yeah?"

And off he goes, leaving you feeling like you might burst into flames.

After that day, the two of you get into the habit of leaving notes for each other all the time, you with a green sticky note and him with yellow. Gentle reminders to eat or to stretch your legs and the like. But as you get to know each other more intricately outside of work, you find that the notes become more personal. You make sure to remind Aaron that he has an appointment at Jack’s school or that he’s meant to restock on Jessica’s favourite tea when she visits, and he lets you know when you’re low on your comfort snacks in the office or have a doctor’s appointment coming up.

Soon enough, when you start to get even closer and he begins inviting you to his apartment for movies and meals, you find yourself leaving notes around his place. Little messages in the kitchen to remind him when something goes out of date or the living room to make sure he doesn't forget to pick up a case file on his way out. Even telling him that he's a great boss or that you (and the team, but you put emphasis on the fact that you) appreciate him.

It's safe to say that it's no surprise when, after you hide your face in his chest during a terrifying scene in a horror movie, the two of you quickly become more than friends.

Penelope is over the moon for you, Derek is glad Aaron finally pulled his head out of his ass and made a move, Emily finally understands what made you happy all those months ago, JJ is happy you both found each other, Dave is proud that Aaron finally moved on and found someone new, and Spencer is indifferent to the whole situation. You and Aaron are, much like the others, ecstatic.

When you move in with him, the apartment very quickly fills up with yellow and green sticky notes, the two of you leaving reminders of your love everywhere. And when he proposes to you, he leaves a yellow sticky note inside the box that tells you how much he adores you. Like a fucking dork. But he’s your dork, and you burst into tears at the sight and cherish the note forever.

At the wedding, Aaron makes sure that his pocket square is yellow, in honour of his colour, and unbeknownst to him, you make sure your own outfit has some semblance of green in it. It makes him tear up and, unlike every other time he gets emotional, he’s not afraid to show how much it affects him.

For years to come, the two of you leave each other yellow and green sticky notes no matter what. Jack does it with his partner, refusing to break the habit, and their children do it with theirs, and their children with theirs, following the tradition until the only memory of how it started are the tattered notes kept in the storage of your great-great-grandchildren’s attic.

tag list: @criminalskies @citrusiove @hotchs-big-hands @ssahotchnerr @sillyhotchsgirl

#i looooooove this one so much #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #comfortember #comfortember 2023

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lyxchen · 11 hours

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I think that S+E broke something inside of me..

#i can't #i can't even #that whole scene with simon holy shit i-#dead boy detectives #lea's random thoughts #dead boy detectives spoilers

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satorubrain · 1 year

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Hey I heard you are taking requests what if “Gojo gets jealous cause reader getting hit on by someone TALLER than him” <333

Hydrangeas.

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader.

Tags: Fluff, jealousy.

Synopsis: Stupid baby is late to your date and then he gets jealous.

A/N: ANON THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA I HAVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW THE REQUEST ITS SO YUM I LOVE JEALOUS AND A LIL BUTTHURT GOJO

It was the hydrangea season, which was also one of your favorite flowers. Making it an excellent idea to ask you out on a date.

Wanting to stun him with your looks you decided to wear a bluish-lavender flowy dress, adorned with bows and laces around your waist and neckline, shoulder straps made of pearls exposing your shoulders, and a choker of the same pattern that came with the dress. Oh, how ethereal you looked right now.

Though you dolled up for your lovely boyfriend who has been half an hour late, people couldn't help but turn their heads to take a glance at you. Some were even brave enough to come up to you and ask for your number. You immediately rejected everyone's advances while waiting for Gojo, standing in the heat of the sun- until a man, a tall one at that decided to tower over you, blocking the sun's rays. You couldn't be more thankful to him, letting out a relieved sigh.

"What's a pretty lady doing here all alone? No way should someone dare to stand you? That too in such heat, that's quite cruel" He sighed. "But are you feeling better now?" He inquired, smiling gently.

Oh, he was quite a gentleman, nice and well-spoken. His tone would charm any person, easing their worries. And that's what it did to you. The heat had already cooked your brain with Satoru nowhere to be found, no texts received from him nor were you able to reach him. But you were thankful to the stranger for accompanying you- which stopped people from asking about you.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Are you alright?" The stranger questioned, worried.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine! Thank you." You answered politely, not willing to further the conversation any longer which might lead to misunderstandings between you and your boyfriend but that didn't stop the stranger from talking to you.

As another half an hour passed by you were laughing with the stranger about some random things, him suggesting places to visit- creating a perfect picture of a couple having their cute little conversation.

This was bad, as Satoru overheard people talking about a couple while heading toward you. Fastening his steps to rush toward the entrance he sees you along with some random man. He was visibly annoyed. Not at you but at the man, he saw you maintain the distance but also saw how he made you laugh, how he stared at you fondly and realized how badly that random guy wants to steal his ethereal oblivious woman from him. Gojo wanted to stay calm but right now his heart was being twisted, the pang in his chest worsening every moment thinking how he was already so late for a date he planned.

And suddenly Gojo was beside you, pulling you into his chest by your waist standing in between the guy and you.

"Hello, my stunning lady, I'm sorry you had to wait for me" he complimented you before trying to kiss you, which you swatted away.

"Why. Are. You. So. Late." You glared at him before turning to the guy who visibly hovered over Satoru as well. Which quite surprised you. 'tall' you thought to yourself before collecting your thoughts together. "Thank you for accompanying me today, it was nice meeting you." you slightly bowed as a sign of respect and wishing him a goodbye.

"Yeah thanks but you can lea-" Before Satoru could finish his cold sentence, he was cut off and ignored.

"It was nice meeting you too, how about we meet later for a coffee? We can be good friends I think" the man suggested. This took you and Satoru both by surprise. You were amazed by the guy whereas Satoru was aggravated by his arrogance.

"Did your brain stop working and perhaps made you blind as well? Did you just ask my girlfriend for a date in front of me? Do you perhaps have a death wish?" Gojo's tone was sharp. He was barely holding himself back and to make it all worse he had to tilt his head higher than he would've normally had to. Satoru loved how he hovered over the most but this time his pride took a huge blow when this random guy flirted with his woman while ignoring him and towering over him.

"Well, then you clearly aren't doing a good job at being a boyfriend. Making your pretty girlfriend wait for at least an hour then you start being rude to people who help her? Seems a little...." He retorts.

It's almost as if Gojo is stabbed in the heart and if anything, he'd look like he's making excuses for his mistreatment toward you.

"Alright, that's enough. I'm thankful to you for tagging along with me but please I'd rather you not be disrespectful to my boyfriend" You cut them off, not wanting to escalate the issue any further and drag Gojo inside the park finally starting your awaited date. It doesn't help how he also entered the park with you guys before you soon went on different paths.

Satoru soon reverts to his old self, cracking up jokes, telling you the random fun facts you love while grinning proudly with you at his side and showering you with endless compliments. But you also notice how he's a lil extra close and how he is even more talkative today, almost as if he's overcompensating. You know him all too well and know how he's feeling quite awful. You know behind that overly confident person is your Satoru who, like any other human has ordinary feelings.

You are both seated on a bench enjoying your ice cream, speaking seriously once you both finish eating "Uhm, I'm sorry for being late. It is solely my fault and then they also called me up for an emergency- so yeah, but I promise I'll make it up" He looks at you with eyes pleading for forgiveness, slightly overthinking the entire ordeal.

"Satoru, it's fine, I realized that the moment I saw you, okay?" You comfort him by pulling him into a hug "But next time inform me alright? I'll be there to help you out!!"

You feel his shoulders relax a bit as he pulls away before gently cupping your cheek and kissing you softly with his other arm wrapped around your waist.

"You know that I love you the most, right?" He confesses sincerely, pure words from the bottom of his heart.

"Mn. And I love you too Satoru" You replied earnestly. "By the way, Satoru. Y'know you should've just started levitating while doing a T-post to assert your dominance over that guy" You joke around, giggling "Imagine. How that would've scared him" you continue successfully eliciting a genuine laugh from Gojo, a pleasant sound to your ears.

Gojo inhales sharply through his teeth. "Tsk. I really should've done that. Even better! maybe I'll pick you up and kiss you in front of everyone" he giggled. His worries are now long forgotten.

Except whenever he sees the man- around a stall or walking by, much to your embarrassment. Gojo does lift you in his arms in front of everyone before kissing you. The gesture announces to everyone that you both belong to each other.

"You're annoying" You giggle wrapping arms around his neck.

"Is that so? I fail to see that you're annoyed" He retorts as he shushes you before you say anything, with his lips.

I FEEL LIKE I KINDA WENT OVERBOARD BUT I HOPE U LIKE IT.

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

#gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fanfic #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x you

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photo1030 · 4 months

Text

Leather and Lace - Chapter 20: All The Little Things

Summary: Arthur takes note of all the little things you do for him and tries to decide if he’s ready to take your relationship to the next level.

Warning: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW - This one is a bit longer than I planned, sorry!

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

*This beautiful images comes from the always stunning @foundynnel

*Beta-read by the wonderfully supportive @readingcoco (Thank you for herding in my thoughts, my friend!)

Tag List: @rivetingrosie4 @bimbo-dollz @pine4pple-b0i @redwritr @kuri-chans-blog @queer-sadie-adler @joelmillerswifey @gimmethosedaddymilkers @pcotarelo @delilah-grimes @maemortem @wistfulwisteriawitch @lilacxxdreams @mentallyillfrogs @absolutegeek @spurz @sophiaj650 @uniqueclodzinevoid @lookingformaurice @pawoui @randomidk-123 @yyiikes @eddiemetalheadmunson @twola @kmartkiddieisle @red-dead-simp @regwishesshehadmagic @rhehr241 @earwen-x @akariver75 @djennty @nervousmumbling @xliliths @unbotheredbeeeee @onnetonprinsessa @kittiowolf210 @ezrynn @suhiss @arthurmargon @codnerd1999 @queer-sadie-adler @alice-vanderlinde @sweetandstoned21 @j4llyf7sh @spooky631 @m0r4rx @ilovrxats @i-69-urmom @ddbluesie @ivuravix @nervousmumbling @sickvictorianangel @tirededuxhours @ezzythereal1 @chloepluto1306 @ivys-valentine @spiritcatcherxo @lea-khena @brccklynbaby1 @foundynnel @readingcoco @carmelamontezlikr @ultraporcelainpig @sofiaa-xcx

*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know. There are a few that would not let me link, so I apologize if this doesn’t ping some people.

It’s been a few weeks since you and Arthur proclaimed your affections for each other and you have quickly settled into a comfortable routine. With Arthur being a senior member of the gang, and with you as his woman, you feel that you need to step up and contribute more to the Van Der Linde Gang. And Dutch and Ms. Grimshaw couldn’t be more thrilled.

The gang must always come first - that is what Arthur has instilled in you and it’s what you have come to adopt as your own adage too. You feel that same sense of belonging and responsibility for these people and finally begin to truly understand Arthur’s unrelenting loyalty to them. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and as long as the gang does well, the people within it will prosper.

You are quickly becoming more embedded into this rag-tag group than you had ever thought you would. It’s not just a group of random individuals or a place for you to hide for safety, they are your family now, just as they are Arthur’s. These are the people who comfort you when you need it, and protect you as one of their own. They laugh with you; they yell and stomp angrily with you. You affectionately think of them and pick-up little gifts that will make their day, and you are rewarded with their love and appreciation in return. This is what Arthur is devoutly devoted to, this sense of belonging. For this is much more than a gang of lawbreakers. These people chose each other, which is a bond tighter than most blood relatives.

The sun is just climbing into its zenith in the autumn sky, desperately trying to break its radiant beams through the gray, overcast clouds to shine down upon the earth below. You and Tilly rumble into camp on a wagon, having just come back from town with a load full of supplies. Mr. Pearson greets you as the old wooden vehicle creaks to a halt. He waddles over and peers his chubby face over the side. The cook is thrilled, seeing an extra crate of potatoes, two more tins of lard and a sack of grain more than he expected you to return with.

“I guess battin’ those eyelashes of yours at the store owner goes a lot further than I thought,” the portly man teases you as he grabs some of the items from the back of the wagon.

You beam back at him with a smile of pride as you hike up your skirt into your hand and climb down from the wagon seat. “What is it they say? ‘Catch more flies with honey than vinegar?’”, you hum.

“Well, don’t be surprised if I start sending you out more often, then. We’ll probably get further along with your pretty face than mine.” Pearson’s round figure vibrates slightly with the laughter of his own joke.

“Just let me know what you need, I’ll be happy to help.” Suddenly you halt dead in your tracks, realizing that you’ve just repeated one of Arthur’s sayings. Tilly is right: you and Arthur are already starting to act like an old married couple. The phrase causes you to shake your head before moving back to the wagon to grab more of the items to unpack.

You pick up one of the smaller boxes and turn to head over to the tables where the men lazily sit about, discussing random topics and enjoying a brief moment of peace and quiet. Arthur and Hosea sit, each relaxing with a cigarette in hand, listening to Dutch carry on about something that he's read recently. He’s been obsessed with “An American Eden” by Evelyn Miller lately and takes it upon himself to “preach its teachings”, as it were, to whomever is within the sound of his voice to hear it. The small group of men currently around him are not what you’d call “high-brow” and his philosophy lessons tends to fall on deaf ears sometimes.

“Hello, boys!” you sing as you saunter over, being met with a collection of head-nods and grins of acknowledgement.

As you grab their attention, you proceed to hand-out a few thoughtful extras that you pilfered in town. You toss a package of new guitar strings to Javier who snatches them out of the air with one of his nimble hands.

“Gracias, mi amor!” he beams happily as he examines the small bundle in his hands. “Where did you come across these?”

“Don’t you worry about it. I have my ways,” you smirk with an accompanying wink.

You reach over to hand a new book to Hosea with a smile, and offer a premium cigar to Dutch, who gratefully accepts your gift with appreciative eyes. Placing the empty box on the table, you look over at Arthur. “Oh, and by the way, Arthur, I think I saw that jack-rabbit you’re chasing in town today.”

Arthur’s head perks up right away. “The Petersen bounty?”

“Yeah. He was over by the brothel. By the looks of it, he’ll be holed up there for a while,” you say nonchalantly as you pull an apple out of your skirt pocket and rub its red skin against your sleeve before biting into the crisp, juicy fruit.

“Well shit, why are you just telling me this now?” Arthur huffs impatiently as he quickly gets up and starts moving towards the horses.

“Like I said, he’s in no hurry.” You shrug. “Do I get a finder’s fee for my part?” you call after him with a grin as you watch him pull Buck from the hitching posts.

Arthur just waves you off as he slides his dusty boot into the stirrup and hastily slings up into Buck’s saddle, taking off for town.

—---------------------------------------------------

The flames of the evening’s campfire pop and crackle softly as they roll and crawl over the slightly damp wood. The aroma of heady oak permeates the air and the smoky plumes rise and dance up towards the night sky. You and Arthur sit alone on the ground by the fire, leaning back against a log with a blanket wrapped over your legs. The night is quiet as the stars sparkle overhead. Most people are playing cards at one of the tables, or have drifted off to their tents for the evening.

The fire offers its warmth and golden glow, creating a soft ambiance. Arthur pulls you in for a gentle, absentminded kiss, and you find yourselves wholly content with each other, forgetting that the rest of the world exists as lovers often do. Your lips run languidly, with no urgency or demand as if working of their own accord. You start to gently rake your fingers across Arthur’s chest, slowly flexing to curl around the worn fabric of his faded brown shirt and occasionally reaching up to caress along his neck and chin. The feeling of his skin radiates through your fingertips and down into the palm of your soft hand. Eyes rolling shut, you smile into his mouth in blissful happiness as his arms lovingly and protectively envelop you.

Arthur’s strong hand sits on your hip, lightly grasping at the supple flesh hidden under the fabric of your skirt. He loves the feeling of your skin on his, it doesn’t matter what the scenario is. Whether it’s his fingers grazing yours when he hands you a cup of fresh-brewed coffee, or when his hips are pounding into yours in the throws of passion, or even just as it is now when the softest of kisses land upon his chapped lips: the feeling of you against him is like electricity pulsing throughout his entire body, bringing him to life, just like that weird story by Mary Shelley that you read to him.

It’s a rare thing for the two of you to be left alone in camp like this. Usually you have to hide away if you want any sort of privacy. But truth be told, the rest of the gang is respectfully giving the two of you some space. It’s nice not having a bitter and angry Arthur around all of the time. Ever since you publicly claimed him in the middle of camp as yours, he hasn’t been as snarky or barking at people like he usually does. And of course, people will do anything for you. The demands of daytime chores and responsibilities are one thing, but the calm evenings are left for you two. Sure, not every night is as peaceful as this, so you revel in the rare moment of solitude when the two of you can get it.

Arthur’s lips eventually part from yours to leave a trail of delicate kisses under your jaw and down your neck, hitting that favorite spot of his. The place behind your ear is where the softest skin he has found on your body is hidden. That spot always tastes so heavenly to him and draws that little breathless noise from you that drives him wild.

Arthur’s nose buries into your hair, picking up the floral notes of the soap you use to wash it with. You giggle and nuzzle him as your hands come up to cradle his head, your fingers entwined into the locks of his hair, hugging him to you as your nose wrinkles in merriment when his beard stubble delightfully tickles your sensitive skin.

And suddenly, as you roll your body closer into his, before you can even think twice about it, the words just float from your lips like a dandelion seed being carried on a summer breeze.

“I love you, Arthur.” Your voice is a breathless sigh of utter contentment, a melody singing through the air.

You haven’t seen his face yet, but feel his movements halt as his whole body goes rigid against you. Arthur slowly pulls his face from your neck and looks at you, speechless, with shocked and confused eyes, face flushed a shade of scarlet to rival the fire in front of you.

But you quickly place your fingers over his lips as if to hush any sort of protest he may have. “Now before you go crazy, Arthur, you don’t have to say it back. I simply said it because I wanted to, because it felt right just now.” You give him a soft and reassuring smile, amused by his reaction as he continues to stare at you, blinking quietly. You can tell he wants to say something in return, but can’t find the words as his mouth begins to work, but no sound comes out.

“It’s okay, Arthur,” you giggle. “Really. I didn’t tell you that to hear it back. I just wanted to make sure you know it. And you can say it if, and when, you’re ready.”

You pause to give him a moment to answer, to make sure he understands that you have no demand of him, but you can see that he is still troubled and finding it hard to articulate what he needs to say. You honestly do not need him to say it back to you. How he treats you is how he feels about you, regardless of words stated or not. Words are used to manipulate people. His actions show you everything you need to know. So thankfully, you put him out of his misery by leaning over to kiss the corner of his mouth as he continues to look at you dumbstruck.

“Don’t get too worked up over it, Arthur.” You pat his cheek affectionately as a look of empathy sits upon your face. “I don’t need you having a heart attack over it. Like I said, you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know where my heart lies.”

Arthur’s forehead creases as he watches you stand up, brushing the dried leaves out of your skirt before reaching down for your blanket. You bend over to catch his scarred chin in your fingertips. “Goodnight, Arthur,” you whisper and kiss him again. You give him an impish little grin before heading over to your tent for the night.

You leave Arthur still sitting speechless on the ground, a troubled look settled upon his handsome face as he watches your lovely form fade into the darkness of night before disappearing from view altogether as you close your tent.

—-----------------------------------------------------

In the days that follow, Dutch announces that he is going to move the camp again. You are all sitting around the fire when he proceeds with an impassioned speech about moving south just outside of a town called Blackwater.

You watch Dutch as he presents himself to the group, noting how he carries himself in front of others. He is charismatic and passionate, a natural-born leader. Since you have known the dark-haired devil, he has always had a dramatic and commanding presence, drawing his people to him with his idealism and wit.

You find it amusing how Dutch’s boldness and optimism is a perfect compliment to Hosea’s skeptical wisdom. The two of them together make quite the dynamic duo, two sides of the same coin. Sometimes you wonder at the true nature of their relationship. Are they “brothers”, just as Arthur and John are, or is there more there, smoldering under the surface like hot coals left after a raging fire has burned down? Both men had their lady-loves in their lives, and both were left devastated when these sparks of light were extinguished in their otherwise dark lives. But you can’t help but wonder if there was ever more to Dutch and Hosea’s relationship than meets the eye. The “curious couple and their unruly sons.” The very idea of it makes you regard them with a softer spot in your heart.

The gang is preparing to go to work and the new location has some hot tips emanating from it. The camp is abuzz with packing and planning with everyone sprinting about and working on their assigned tasks. Arthur and Hosea are discussing a real estate tip around West Elizabeth, while Micah and Dutch have their own plan…something about a ferry boat.

Arthur and Hosea wander to sit at one of the campfires, away from distractions, and are busy discussing their tip and planning for the new move when Hosea casually asks Arthur about you.

“So…how’s things going with (Y/N)?” He gives Arthur a sly smile with that twinkle in his eye. Hosea has been silently observing the budding courtship from the beginning, carefully watching for any signs of discord that would need to be nipped in the bud before trouble brews.

A slight pink dusts Arthur’s face at the older man’s inquiry, visible even under his week-old beard. A sheepish little grin tugs at the corner of his mouth as he purses his lips in thought.

“Have you ever wanted to listen to every word someone says, even about the smallest thing in the world just so you can see their face light up and hear their voice?”

Hosea gives a light-hearted chuckle as he brings his cigarette to his wrinkled lips. “Yeah, that girl broke down those walls of yours without you even noticing she was doin’ it, didn’t she?”

But the smile slowly drips from Arthur’s face as a dark cloud settles over his features. A deep and sad sigh pushes its way from his broad chest under his worn beige jacket. His eyes relax their focus and stray to look out over the camp as he absentmindedly chews on his bottom lip. Hosea notices the change in mood and immediately fears the worst.

“Ah, shit, what did you do?” accuses the old man in disappointment.

“Nothing!” Arthur counters defensively as his face snaps back to Hosea’s attention. But he is met with the clever fox’s skeptical scowl. Arthur hesitates to share what’s on his mind, afraid that once he verbalizes the phrase again, it will become all too real.

“She…she told me that she loves me,” Arthur admits quietly, before letting his gaze float to the worn leather of his boots, his toe poking at the grass.

Like a switch has been pulled, Hosea’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Well, that’s great news, my boy!” He claps Arthur on the shoulder in congratulations. “Although I could’ve told you that after the first week she was here with us.” But when Arthur doesn't return his friend’s enthusiasm, Hosea’s smile quickly turns down again in confusion, eying him up cautiously. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“What, are you tellin’ me that you don’t love her?” Hosea asks incredulously, his face drawing up in disbelief.

“No, I wasn’t sayin’ that at all,” pouts Arthur. “‘Cause I do,” he says with a slight, yet definitive nod. The man fidgets slightly, his hands suddenly sweaty and shaky as he finally admits outloud what he’s known internally for awhile. A short, yet sharp exhale escapes him, as the statement is now out there, exposing his fragile heart for the first time in a long while.

“Well, then I fail to see the problem,” presses Hosea with a flippant wave of his hand in exasperation.

Arthur fidgets with the cigarette in his fingers, slowly rolling it between his thumb and index finger. “What if she realizes that she doesn’t? Love me, I mean?” He catches Hosea’s eye. “What if she wakes up one mornin’ and decides she don’t want me no more?” He turns his gaze outward, focusing on nothing again. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Arthur cringes when he hears his own voice whining about being loved, bitching about the same thing he said to Marston a few weeks ago. Yes, it’s sooo horrible to have a wonderful woman love me. He thinks sarcastically. God, I’m pathetic.

“I suppose I see your point.” Hosea nods his head in understanding, as Arthur’s worry becomes all too clear. “So what if she does one day? Hmm?” The old man waves his hand dismissively in the air. “But, what if it turns out that (Y/N) wants to be with you forever?” Hosea squints at Arthur. “Don't you think she’s worth the gamble?”

Arthur turns his pained eyes back to his old friend. “I can’t go through that again, Hosea. I just…I can’t do it.” He leans out on his elbows onto his thighs, head swimming with ever-present self-doubt, coupled with the desperate yearning for the love and acceptance he’s craved since he was a child.

“Arthur, if (Y/N) tells you she loves you, you better believe her.” Hosea points his weathered, crooked finger at Arthur, poking him in the chest. “Don’t be afraid to start over. You may like your new story better this time around. (Y/N) ain’t like that other one,” he grumbles, his jaw clenching slightly without even needing to mention Mary by name.

“No, I suppose you’re right. She surely ain’t.” Arthur sits quietly for a moment, mulling over Hosea’s words. Hosea always has a way of getting him to see reason, always had since Arthur was a kid. Hosea could quiet his mind with just the simplest words. Arthur takes another deep drag of his cigarette before that roguish little grin pops up again. “You know…if I somehow manage not to screw this up, Hosea…I’m gonna marry her.”

The admission makes the old man’s heart almost burst with happiness as he huffs out a laugh and pats Arthur’s shoulder again in approval. “God willing, I’ll live long enough to see that.”

The two men share a soft chuckle between them. They have been through so much together to get to this point in their lives and the idea of hope and love in the future gives them a feeling of contentment that is rare for their kind of life.

Arthur wants you, of that, there is no doubt. After Mary and Eliza, ‘love’ was just a word to Arthur, some meaningless string of letters that he’d hear from Mary-Beth as she read her silly stories. Four little characters that created an empty and almost cold feeling for him. L.O.V.E

But now, the word has taken a whole new form in you. You are his definition of desire. Arthur never knew how engulfing the flames of love could be until now, until you uttered those three simple little words to him. You are the only thing that could have brought him back to life with your hands, your lips, your soul. Arthur would journey to the ends of the earth to keep you in his life. He misses you from the moment you separate. All he knows is that nothing else makes as much sense to him as loving you. This is what it feels like to fall and not know, or care, where you land.

You have no idea the depth of how you affect Arthur, how you calm the chaos in his head and still the tornado of thoughts that threaten his sanity. When he holds you in his arms, you become the eye of his storm, the center that is safe while the gale rages wildly around him.

When two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to each other. The very presence that is felt through a hand held close, a voice heard drifting into one’s ear, or even that slightest smile that you know is only for you. Souls do not have clocks or calendars; they do not function with the idea of time or distance. Devoted souls only know it feels right once they have found each other. Like a magnet to steel, beloved hearts will always be drawn to each other with that force of nature that is undeniable.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

“Uh oh”, whispers Abigail. Her brunette head pops up as she watches with trepidation from where you both pack supplies into one of the wagons.

You lift your head to follow her sightline and see Micah and Arthur arguing again. The two of them have been at it for the last few days as the plans to move out of the area are beginning to be set into motion. You wonder how Dutch could put his trust in two men who are so drastically different. It follows suit that Micah will run his mouth with Arthur getting a few verbal, sarcastic jabs in here and there. But it usually ends with Arthur simply towering over the much smaller man until he shrinks down into submission in fear of an iron fist landing into that filthy mouth of his.

This latest fight seems to be in regards to the competing jobs which have been planned for once you all move down towards Blackwater. Arthur wants nothing to do with this ferry job that Micah is pushing, citing it to be reckless and overreaching. The gang has been in the law’s cross-hairs for some time now and he and Hosea both think sticking to smaller, more reliable jobs is best right now. But Micah has been pitching a more grandiose scheme, arguing that the gang needs to strike bold and quick, garnering as much money as you can so you can start to move away from the civilization that is slowly strangling the gang. Unfortunately for Arthur, Micah seems to be like an earworm, burrowing into Dutch’s brain and playing on his already inflated ego.

You and Abigail observe with baited breath to see how far this current argument will go. But it appears Micah is not backing down this time, continuing to push Arthur to the limits of his patience. Suddenly, in a bold move of newfound courage, Micah steps up right in Arthur’s face, almost nose to nose. The cool autumn air is sucked sharply into your lungs as you gasp and your whole body freezes in apprehension, adrenaline like a knife suddenly thrown into your belly.

“(Y/N)…” Abigail warns, placing her hand on your forearm. But you are already ahead of her, quick to stride over to the feuding men. As you get closer, a small group begins to gather as the yelling continues to escalate.

“I’d take a step back and reconsider myself if I were you, Micah,” John smirks with a half-hearted warning from where he sits off to the side, sharpening his knife. John knows full-well that it is only a matter of time before this gets physical, as Arthur has little patience. He has seen Arthur pummel men into a pulp for less offensive actions. But truth be told, John would love to see Micah get his ass beat by Arthur. Hell, he’d even consider paying for it.

Arthur isn’t saying much but you can tell by the heaving of his chest and the scowl etched into his face that he’s a bomb seconds away from exploding. His broad shoulders set hard as stone as Arthur stands even straighter, towering over Micah. His large hands slowly curl into themselves, fists clenched tight like boulders at the end of his pulsing forearms.

Carefully, you approach the two men from the side, watching them closely and trying to gauge how much time you have before Arthur’s fuse burns to the end of the powder-keg. The tension in the air builds uncomfortably, causing a knot to settle in your stomach.

“Arthur?'' You call his name softly, trying not to startle him. You tilt your head to look up into his face, trying to catch his attention, but Arthur’s icy stare is trained only on Micah. But then you notice that Micah’s hand is hovering at his side, fingers flexing over his gun in its holster.

This has now elevated to a precarious situation that needs to be diffused quickly and delicately. You don’t understand why no one else is stepping in to break this up, but assume it’s probably to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Out of everyone in the gang, these are probably the two men that you absolutely would not want to tangle with.

Dutch, conveniently, is not around for this show, which may be why Micah is suddenly so bold to openly challenge Arthur like this. While he likes showing off for Dutch, Micah knows he can push the envelope when the leader of the gang is not around, as if trying to insert himself into that coveted role. Over Arthur’s dead body, that is.

When Arthur still doesn’t answer you, you inch even closer. Carefully, your arm lifts and moves fluidly across Arthur’s chest to lay your hand against his cheek. You calmly say his name again, “Arthur.”

The simple act cuts to the outlaw instantly as he blinks out of his angry trance and turns to look at you, confused as if he hadn’t even noticed you were standing there.

Once you catch his attention, you offer Arthur the softest of smiles, your eyes bright and sparkling, distracting him from the weasel that is his ire at the moment.

“Come with me, please.” Your request is quiet yet authoritative.

“What for?!” he snaps, the fury radiating off of him as you can feel how his whole body is flexed and rigid.

A slow and deep exhale emanates from you as you intensely hold his gaze. “Would you rather go for a walk with me..alone…by the river where it’s peaceful and quiet? Or sit here and argue with Micah Bell?”

You can see Arthur’s mind trying to process your words, his anger and frustration wrestling with your simple logic.

“Fine,” he barks, not really directing his venom at you.

Arthur reluctantly lets you snake your arm around his and turn him away from Micah. It’s like trying to pull a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. But Micah will not be dismissed so easily. His eyes narrow as he stares you down, just as you begin to maneuver Arthur away.

“Oh sure, run and hide behind a skirt!" Micah teases. “Pretty damn sad, Morgan!”

“Shut your damn mouth, Micah, or I will shut it for you. Permanently!” Arthur’s voice booms through the camp as his finger points in Micah’s direction to accent his point. Arthur’s eyes lock coldly with Micah’s as he cranes his neck to shoot Micah one last heated glare before he continues to walk away with you.

“Come on, you,” you delicately chide Arthur, your arm and hands tightening around his bicep just a bit more, eager to get the two of them separated as fast as you can.

Behind you, Micah stands pouting as the two of you walk away. A pain clicks in his chest as he watches how you handle Arthur. He sucks his lip between his jagged teeth, jaw clamping down on the tender skin. He’s irritated to no end with Arthur, but even more so, with your infatuation with the man. A pang of jealousy cuts deep into Micah as his fists clench open and closed as they still hover over his holster at his side.

“Micah’s got a point. Looks like Arthur’s gone soft on us,” Bill snarks as he stands with his thumbs hanging on his gunbelt.

“I’d like to see you tell him that to his face, Bill,” John quips.

“Mock all you want, gentlemen,” adds Javier, waving his hand towards Micah and Bill. “But the fact of the matter is, that man is taking that woman to bed tonight.” And he points in your direction. “You two have fun all by yourselves in your tents later.”

“Shut up, Javier,” mumbles Bill. But Micah only stands in angry silence before spinning on his heels and heading off in a huff to get a whiskey bottle from one of the supply wagons to sulk.

The wind kicks up a bit, biting at your cheeks as you walk down the path out of the camp. Arthur is heatedly silent as you walk. It is little wonder to you why so many find him so intimidating and fearsome.

Passing by the hitching posts, your gray Gypsy gets antsy, whinnying and stomping the ground in a tantrum at the possibility of being left behind. “Ugh, are you acting ornery today, too?” you huff as if scolding a child. “Alright, come on. You can come along, too.” You quickly grab Blue to follow, as he’s been pent up quite a bit lately and is itching to move about.

You lead Arthur, with your horse in tow, as the path takes you down to the river’s edge. The soft lapping of the water against the sandy edge of the bank offers a calm and welcomed change of scenery. And it is here that you turn Arthur loose, letting him vent loudly, while you simply agree with everything he says, replying occasionally with “I know” and “I get it”.

“Goddamn fool! Don’t know his ass from a hole in the ground!” shouts Arthur, waving his arms around.

“I know,” you reply calmly as you rub your hand along Blue’s nose and face. The horse nickers softly and nudges into you, like a cat purring in your hands as you watch Arthur pace back and forth in frustration like a wild animal in a cage.

“And Dutch is gonna go along with it?! Just like that?” He flashes his intense blue eyes at you.

“I know, it’s crazy,” you shake your head at him.

“Are they even thinkin’ ‘bout the rest o’ us?”

You just shrug. “I don’t get it, either,” you say calmly.

Arthur momentarily stops in his ranting and looks at you, finally taking a moment to breathe. Why you are not as heated as he is is beyond him. “Is that all you’re gonna say?”

“Well, I figured I’d let you carry-on and wear yourself out and when it’s my turn to yell, you just point and then I’ll go.” You cross your arms over your chest and give him a little smirk.

But Arthur’s face holds anything but amusement, as he firmly plants his hands on his hips in frustration. “I ain't in the mood for jokes, (Y/N),” he grits out slowly.

A grin creeps its way across your face. “I bet I could get you to laugh.”

“I doubt it,” he grumbles with a slight eye roll.

Squinting slightly in challenge with a teasing look, you walk over to him, placing your hands on his ribs before letting them slowly drift down to his waist. He raises an eyebrow at you but is quickly disappointed when your hands divert from his waistline to reach into his satchel and dig around until you pull out his leather gloves. Confused, Arthur’s eyes follow you as you saunter over to Blue and step up towards his great head, stopping to place each glove over one of the horse’s ears. As your horse twitches his ears, the gloves appear to be hands waving back and forth at you.

“Huh…Huh?” You point at Blue, a huge grin erupting over your face, clearly pleased with yourself and your childish little distraction.

Arthur just stares at you blankly, totally taken aback at your adolescent behavior. “You’re ridiculous,” he snorts with an eye roll to the heavens.

“Oh, come on, that’s funny and you know it!” you snicker, hugging Blue’s neck affectionately.

Arthur rolls his eyes skyward once more, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head at your nonsense as he finally ambles over to you. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he huffs.

Knowing he’s been beaten, Arthur sighs with resignation, wrapping you up against his barrel chest and bear-hugging you tightly. Your glittering laugh gets muffled by his chest as your arms hook under his to return his embrace. Arthur pulls back for a moment, collecting your happy little face into his giant hands, and looks down at you. But all he can do is shake his head once more before hugging you again, placing his chin atop of your head.

Amazingly, you were right: he has forgotten all about Micah Bell.

Later, after you’ve gotten Arthur to calm down enough to safely be around other people again, the two of you are tucked away in his tent. He sits on the cot, scribbling something in his journal, as you stand in front of his shaving mirror, unpinning your hair and getting ready to retire for the evening.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I found something for you!” Your face lights up with excitement as you spin around back to his table and pick up one of the items sitting there. You eagerly shove a small aluminum tin into his face, hardly able to contain yourself. Arthur peers inside, curious what it is that has you so worked up.

“Cherries?” he questions, surprised to see the little jeweled fruit inside.

“Yeah! I found a cherry tree that the birds hadn’t gotten into yet, so I picked some for you. I remember you telling me that your mother used to make cherry cobbler for you as a kid. So I was going to try and make you some.” You look down at the tin of deep red fruit, shaking it a bit and watching them roll about. “I’ll have to mix these with some that we’ve jarred up, so it probably won’t be as good as hers,” you admit, mouth twisting a bit in disappointment, “but we’ll see.” You look back at him with a simple smile and shrug before turning to set the tin back down on the table.

Arthur stares at you, thinking back to the other night at the fire when you whispered those lovely little words to him. His mind rolls over how you treat him, how you care for him, how you’ve made him your focus like no one ever has before.

“Hey, you”, he mutters softly.

You lift your face back to him, eyebrows arched awaiting him to continue. “Hmm?”

The outlaw reaches out with his calloused hand and gently wraps it around your bicep, pulling you over to him. You stand between Arthur’s knees as he holds your hips and stares up at your angelic face. You lean over and kiss his forehead, his eyes fluttering closed as you run your fingers through his hair. After a moment, his eyes slowly open again, drinking you in. And Arthur realizes as he stares into your beautiful eyes that he has fallen in love with all of the millions of simple little things that you do, things that you do all of the time, and don’t even realize you’re doing them.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

You smile brightly down at him as his gravelly voice utters those amazing words so softly from his lips. You observe the seriousness in his face, so earnest in his declaration, as if he is trying to convince you of it. Arthur waits for your reply, hoping he hasn’t taken too long to tell you, fearing you’ve had second thoughts.

After a brief moment you lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose. “I know,” you whisper, raising an eyebrow with that smart look you get.

“I mean it”, he insists. “I never wanted more ‘til I had you. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” His hands grasp a bit tighter as if he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him. “I suppose I was just too afraid to let myself go there again.”

“It’s not love that you’re afraid of, Arthur. It’s that the next person that you love will be like the person who left you broken.” You cup your hands around his face, your thumbs drawing against the weathered skin of his cheeks. “I promise, I won’t do that to you.”

Arthur’s eyebrows crease even further, that shadow of worry cascading over his face again. “(Y/N), I can’t give you the life you want, the life that you deserve.”

“Are we doing this again?” you ask with a tinge of admonishment. “Arthur, I don't want someone who will promise me the world. I want someone who will hold me when I need it; who will bring me coffee in the morning; who will pull the blanket over me on cold nights when I’m sleeping. I want someone who will love me the same as I love them: madly, uncontrollably, inconveniently, and, yeah, maybe even foolishly.” A bright smile illuminates your face. “And I think you’re just the fool I’ve been waiting for.”

This makes a small chuckle break from his stern face as he shakes his head.

You pull his stubbled face in closer to yours. “I don’t care how complicated this gets, Arthur. I still want you.”

He lifts his hands from your hips and wraps them around your wrists as you continue to hold his face. “Maybe I’m afraid because you mean more to me than anyone ever has. I don’t want to mess that up.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you won’t mess it up, Arthur.”

You watch the idea of it settle over Arthur, wrapping him up like a warm blanket and just as comforting as one, too. The tension in his shoulders ebbs away and his eyes soften and twinkle, making them rival the bluest ocean.

He smiles up at you again. “Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it again for me, would ya? Say you love me.” Arthur beams up at you as he wraps his arms completely around your hips, pulling you in and holding you tightly.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan. More than you can ever know or even comprehend.” You lean your face in close again, hovering sweetly over his. “We can do this, Arthur. I promise.”

“Yeah, we can.”

—--------------------

The next day, Arthur, Charles and Javier have gone into town to get more supplies and stop for a round of poker and a quick drink. A quick drink soon turns into many. And many drinks turns into an argument with the locals. One that ends with the boys coming home victorious, but pretty banged up. Even as drunk as they were, the Van Der Linde gang is not a group of men to be messed with.

Charles and Javier come back with mostly superficial wounds, black eyes and bruised ribs. Arthur, of course, always seems to carry the brunt of the trauma in these situations. If he’s not taking on the largest brawler, he’s dealing with more than one man at a time. Either way, Arthur is always the one to come home more torn up than the others.

But thankfully, you now have Arthur safely in your med tent, stitching up a shallow knife laceration in his side as he sits quiet and guilty. Arthur sheepishly avoids your eyes, as you are unusually silent about the situation, a clear indication that you are not happy about it. You tug on the thread of his stitches a little too aggressively as short huffs emanate from your nose in frustration.

“What if you get tired of this?” Arthur grumbles as he watches how you carefully pull the thread through his red and inflamed skin, wincing slightly as the needle pushes into his flesh over and over again.

“Of what? Patching holes in you that you get from being reckless and stupid? Or seeing you without your shirt on? Because those are two totally different things,” you quip as your eyes briefly dart up to meet his before going back to your handiwork.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, I do hate seeing you all busted up and bleeding,” you frown. Your delicate fingers dance across the damaged skin, deftly folding the thread around your fingertips with expert precision.

“It ain’t so bad. If you think I look bad, you should see the other guy’s knuckles,” Arthur jokes.

“Funny,” you deadpan.

“You ain’t the only one who’s funny, you know.” He pokes his long finger into your ribs in jest, making you squirm as you try to keep your hands steady.

“Point taken.” You continue to fuss, cleaning his wound and scrutinizing the stitchwork. “I will always take care of you, Arthur. I promise.”

“And I will always be reckless and stupid,” he snickers.

An exasperated sigh escapes you. “That wasn’t the point.”

“Nope, can’t go back on your promise now,” he gloats.

—--------------------------------

You wake in the middle of the night in your tent, cold and lonely. Arthur was still out of camp when you went to bed tonight, but you miss him terribly. Sometimes when you are separated, you get this overwhelming feeling of emptiness without him. Maybe it is the ever-impending threat of danger that you live in. Or maybe it is that you just love him so much that it hurts to be apart.

Still half asleep, you meander out of your tent and quietly pad over to Arthur’s, hoping to find him there. When you get to his tent and pull back the opening, you find him asleep on his cot. He still has his boots on, too, which means he came home and just plopped down and passed out. (Usually he will stop by your tent upon returning to camp, but you figure he was either too tired or didn’t want to disturb you.)

You smile with a great sense of relief and slip inside the tent, affixing the tent door down behind you again in privacy. You tiptoe over to the cot and carefully crawl onto the bedding. You snuggle-up next to Arthur’s side, lifting his arm and wrapping it around yourself as you rest your head on his chest. Once settled, you breathe out a sigh of contentment, nuzzling your face into his chest and eager to feel the warmth that radiates off of him. Within moments, you are back asleep, tucked safely under Arthur’s arm.

But while you fall back to sleep, Arthur is awake for the next hour that follows. He stirs at the feeling of your delicate hand around his wrist when you settle in next to him, but he has a hard time going back to sleep now. As you lay there together, Arthur listens to your peaceful breathing and inhales your flowery scent. He relishes the feeling of your weight on his chest and your feline-like body up against him. As he lays in the soothing darkness, his gaze lands on your gently sleeping form laying upon him. He observes how your chest steadily rises and falls with each delicate breath. He notices how you have carefully entwined your leg around his own, and your fingers gracefully splay across his beating heart. Arthur realizes that he has in his grasp what he’s always wanted: someone to come home to, someone waiting for just him. And he doesn’t want to miss a single moment that he gets to hold you like this.

When Arthur eventually shifts his weight, it causes you to stir from your comforted slumber. A large and deep yawn escapes you as you roll your eyes up to meet his blue orbs gazing down at you. A sleepy grin blooms across your face when you see that he is awake.

Arthur softly runs the back of his dirt-stained knuckles against your cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it’s alright. I should probably be getting up anyway.” You sigh with a slight pang of disappointment as you roll yourself up and stand off the cot.

“Aw c’mon, stay with me,” Arthur whines, catching your hand and holding it tightly.

“All night?”

“Yeah, all night,” he insists. “It ain’t like people don’t know what we’re up to in here. And either way, it’s none of their business anyway.” He rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he continues to hold yours, playing with your fingers and drawing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Do you really want to roll over and wake up with my face smashed into yours?” you tease.

“More than anything.” Arthur tugs you back down to him and kisses the corner of your eye, making you giggle. ”I’ll make it worth your while,” he utters out in a sultry tone, causing your knees to go weak. Your only response is a flutter of your eyelashes and a deep kiss to his pillowy lips as you climb back onto his cot.

Arthur shifts his body and wraps his muscled arm around you to usher you back down, pinning you under him. A quiet hum escapes into the quiet, still air as he quickly deepens the kiss, his tongue pushing past your sweet lips. You hungrily reciprocate his affection, your hand gliding from his cheek to the back of his head as your fingers card through his hair. The feeling of your fingernails gently scraping along his scalp sends shivers throughout his whole tired body. Slowly, your knee bends, rubbing your leg against his much larger frame, indicating that you want more.

Arthur’s hand roams freely and greedily over your sumptuous body as his palm firmly clamps over your breast, massaging the tender flesh before his mouth encompasses it over the thin cotton of your nightgown. Your chin floats back at the feeling of him touching you, your mind already lost in an incoherent fog. He works his way from your breast to your sternum, and proceeds to leave a trail of kisses and caresses down your figure. And as things go, your heat begins to tingle and ache with dire need. The anticipation is wreaking havoc with you, drawing soft whines and moans from your throat.

The delicious sounds emanating from you set Arthur ablaze inside. He quickly sits up onto his knees as he begins to impatiently pull at your nightgown. But instead of just pushing it up, he yanks the obstructing article up and over your head. With the top half of your body exposed, Arthur makes quick work of your bloomers, folding your legs up in front of him so he can work the fabric down your lovely calves and over your feet.

You are now completely bare to him, your large, shining eyes staring up at him as he looms over you like a predator. Arthur’s own eyes are filled with a divine mixture of love and lust, just for you. Your arms stretch out to him as a silent plea for him to continue. With a smirk, Arthur is quick to pull his shirt over his head and undo the buttons of his trousers and union suit underneath. You reach up and clumsily tug at the sleeves of his undergarment, exposing his chest to the cold night air. He has no time to strip himself down completely, as once his hard cock springs free from its confines, it is very clear he is ready to get things moving along.

Arthur covers your body with his own once more, slowly rocking back and forth with a hypnotic motion. Your leg snakes around his backside in response, your heel digging into his thigh. Hot, steamy breaths cover each other’s faces from the barrage of wet heated kisses as the intimacy quickly escalates. Arthur’s hand drifts down between your two bodies to seek out your tender folds. A sharp moan jumps from your lips as the pads of his fingers sublimely rake across the delicate skin between your legs and your pelvis jerks up to grind against his palm.

“Christ Almighty,” Arthur pants with his lips crushed against your temple.

“I know”, you sigh in agreement.

A deep and guttural groan erupts from his chest, filled with want and desire for you. Feeling how your slick coats his fingers already, Arthur reluctantly withdraws his fingers to give himself a few quick pumps of his cock, using your wetness to lubricate himself. He rolls his hips to align his large body at your entrance, looking down at where your hips conjoin. Your hands find their way under his arms and grasp tightly to the flesh of his back, urging him to move forward and to do it quickly. Arthur’s chin lifts to meet your gaze, finding your mouth gaped and eyes heavy-lidded with wondrous longing as his name falls as a whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.

He hastily pushes himself into you, his usual slow and careful pace forgotten about. The feeling of his thick cock being roughly shoved into you makes you cry out, but you are quickly muffled with his scorching mouth over top of yours. Arthur is quick to start a fast pace, as his hips snap sharply into yours, rutting deeply into your core. The velvety walls of your cunt flutter tightly around him when you feel his length twitching inside you. The grinding is euphoric, sending waves of pleasure shooting throughout your bodies. The way the two of you sync up in the throws of passion is glorious, transcending any pleasure either of you have ever known.

Arthur proceeds to sit back up onto his knees so he can fully take in the vision of you, your body shuddering beneath him from his force. The cot creaks beneath you as the very strength of its joints is being tested. He wraps his hands around your soft thighs for leverage as he observes how his cock glides in and out of you. Your back lifts off of the cot, arching to angle your pelvis towards him, eager for him to fill you even more, if that is even possible. Your hands seek out his thick wrists, slightly pulling yourself towards him to match his motion. When your head drops back against the canvas of the cot again, Arthur immediately falls forward to suck on your exposed jugular, leaving slight bite marks that pinch your overly sensitive skin.

“You are so fucking amazing,” he garbles into your skin. “I don’t ever want to leave this tent.”

His burly body covers yours once again, encasing you under his muscled limbs as his arm snakes around your head, his face tucked tightly into your neck.

“Then we won’t,” you whisper. You turn your face towards his, your bottom teeth dragging across the plump skin of his earlobe, your panting hissing in his ear as he continues to rock into you. You can taste the saltiness of his skin and the faint notes of earthy musk from being out all day in the elements as your tongue flicks at the bare skin of his shoulder as you attempt to muffle your moans into the muscle there. Your whole naked body feels as if it’s on fire with every inch of it touching him right now. The sound of your beloved outlaw grunting lustfully into your ear erases any and all other outside distractions or thoughts. And as his torso lurches back and forth over you, you feel that oh-so lovely lightning barrling its way towards your climax.

“Whatever you do, don’t stop now,” you whine. Your arms encircle Arthur even tighter as you await that rapturous feeling that you know is coming.

As usual, your whole body clamps down around him when your climax hits. Your wanton squeaks and moans are a bewitching melody in Arthur’s mind. The already-tight walls of your cunt restrict around his hefty cock, drawing out a brief whimper from him, pushing him to his own orgasm as he pulls himself out of you and rubs himself against your stomach in search of that friction needed to finish.

Arthur instinctively clutches you to himself when he climaxes with an almost bone-crushing pressure. You tremble slightly, more from the overstimulation than from the damp night air encompassing you. You curl up into him, clinging desperately to his frame. Your fingertips dig into the valley of his spine, the soft chestnut colored hair that decorates his back sticking to his skin with a thin layer of sweat. The two of you have been together quite a few times by now, but every damn time it is exquisite, just as if it was the first time all over again.

The feeling of Arthur’s chest rapidly rising and falling beneath your arms mesmerizes you as you feel the very life of him coursing through your hands while you lay there wrapped up in each other. You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek as you nestle your face into that coveted space where his massive shoulder and neck meet. The weight of Arthur on top of you is so comforting. Where some may consider Arthur’s sheer bulk smothering, you find it calming. You wonder how he could ever think you are not safe when you’re with him, as that is always where you feel the most secure.

Your hips are always a bit sore after making love to Arthur, not used to opening up so wide to accommodate such a large man, but you snicker as you tell yourself that you’ll just have to do it more often to get used to it. The more you are together, the more comfortable and relaxed you become, giving in to the sweet intoxicating feeling of the other. The societal shame and guilt that often gets attributed to the act of sex have long been discarded. You two are no longer self conscious about being too loud, and are no longer hiding your bodies from each other in fear of rejection. Playful giggles of excitement, needy and eager hands, and exploratory kisses are the norm for you two now.

Both fully expended and exhausted, Arthur hands you one of his towels to clean your stomach of his pearly spend that scatters across your skin. Once you toss the soiled linen to the side, Arthur shifts his body lower so he can lay his head onto your chest and pulls his blanket up and over the two of you. Your lips lay against the crown of his head as you play with the thick waves of hair while your fingertips drag along his forearm that tightly holds you to him. And within moments, you are both fast asleep again.

—---------------------------------------------

After breakfast, you finish washing up the last of the dirty dishes, drying your hands on your short apron as you head over to the horses to give them the vegetable scraps. Arthur is already over there, throwing down some grain and fresh water for the lot. He catches your eye as you approach, giving you a smile and nod as you return his gaze with a blushing grin, the memory of last night still fresh in your mind as well as between your thighs.

Arthur watches you as you toss the greens into the horses’ buckets, laughing lightly as they push each other to get to you. “Alright, piglets, hold on. There’s enough to go around.” You lovingly pat Taimia on the neck, as she is the best behaved out of all of these “spoiled children”. Arthur draws on the cigarette that hangs from his mouth, his eyes hovering over you. He squints slightly as he fidgets with the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, his thoughts kicking around in his head since last night.

“Hey, so I’ve been doin’ some thinkin’...” he starts nervously, his voice hesitant as he tosses the butt into the grass.

You look over your shoulder back to Arthur as you try to keep Blue from nipping at your pockets, looking for treats. “Yeah?”

“When we setup the new camp in a few days, what if you put your things in my tent?” He averts his gaze from yours for a second, unsure of how you will react to his suggestion.

But you simply give him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

Arthur takes a tentative breath before he elaborates. “You know, move your things over and, um…stay there.”

It takes a moment to register, but the idea of it causes a huge smile to slowly spread across your face from ear to ear. “Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to share your tent with you?” Your cheeks flush like a brilliant rose and you nibble your bottom lip with excitement.

Arthur reciprocates with a big grin of his own. “I kinda like the idea of waking up next to you every mornin’.” He swaggers over closer to you. “Although you do snore, though.”

“I do not!” you exclaim in playful offense, your hands planting onto your hips.

“Yeah, you do. It’s cute, though,” he snickers. “Like a cat meowing.” He proceeds to imitate a snore/meow sound as he pulls you to him by your waist.

You slap his arm as you playfully scowl at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” Arthur arches an eyebrow at you as he ducks his head to kiss under your jawline.

“Yeah, I guess so,” smirking as you roll your eyes. “I'm kind of already invested in you and all.”

“It kinda works out nice that way. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

Your effervescent giggle makes Arthur’s heart melt. “I’ll take that deal.”

Arthur cups his hand around your cheek, his thumb pushing your chin up so he can look into your glittering eyes. “I’ll ride with you through all the bullshit, Y/N, just as long as you don’t bullshit me. Fair?”

Your delicate hands run up his chest and push over his strong shoulders where your fingers lace together behind his neck. “I can only make you two promises, Arthur: That I will never hurt you in the way that I, myself, have been hurt, and that I will love you in the ways that you, yourself, have never been loved.”

You stare into those sapphire eyes of his, trying not to get distracted by the full-range of emotions he has dammed up behind them, emotions that you have only just begun to unleash. “I don't want to just be with you, Arthur. I want to live and love with you. I want to experience every single thing, stupid or great, that our time on this Earth is willing to give us together.”

A deep and relaxing breath is pulled into Arthur’s lungs and released, taking with it any of the anxiety and doubt that he’s been fostering over this new thing, this new beginning that you have gifted him and that he cannot wait to start.

“Just be with me now and we’ll figure out the details later, I suppose,” he hums. He leans down to catch the rose petals of your lips into a delicate kiss. Your eyes float close and you smile into his mouth. The kiss is not too short, nor too long, but just perfect, as it carries all of the affection you both hold within it.

Arthur pulls back from you, and cradles your face in both of his large hands, staring down at your happy, sparkling expression.

“In my life full of wrongs, Y/N, you’re the thing that’s right in it. And I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader smut

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orion4ever · 5 months

Note

qiu and tamarack with an mc that seemingly NEVER gets sick and then one day they are just in bed an entire day with the worst fever, they're loopy and dazed and more prone to crying just because they accidentally stubbed their toe or sneezed one to many times.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this, I am sort of like this. One day id feel fine and then the next day my stuffy nose basically suffocates me lol

I wrote this for Step 2 but if you wanted Step 1 then please do request again!

Pairing(s): Qiu Lin x MC and Tamarack Baumann x MC

🍂🗒️

QIU LIN🗒️

They always wondered how you never got sick.

I headcanon that Qiu gets colds often so they’re curious about what witchcraft or tricks your pulling that make you immune.

So when you do get sick, they are surprised, to say the least.

If you were feeling loopy and saying random gibberish then they can’t help but tease you a little.

“Do you think, If you road your bike..fast enough *sneeze* you could…*sniff* rewind time.”

“…Probably.”

When you do end up emotional maybe after leaving your chicken noddle soup to cool down for a bit and then eating it to realize it was cold

Coughing hard enough that it hurts your throat and start crying. Then Qiu would be so doting and sad that you have to go through this.

They’re an angsty teenager but have the biggest soft spot for you and hates seeing you so miserable and ill.

They don’t try and invade your space when you’re sick since as I said, they are somewhat sick prone.

When your mom has to eventually ask Qiu to leave so that you can rest, Qiu will write notes and slide them under your door and talk to you from the other side.

Or maybe even, cup phones. They see them as childish but it’s just you and them anyway so who even cares?

Once you feel better or at least better enough to rejoin society, Qiu is definitely making sure you get some fresh air.

You owe them the time the two of you missed from being sick and they missed you!

You were sick.

You got caught in the rain yesterday and thought it was the best idea to tough it out after forgetting your umbrella.

Your dear mother had banished you to your bedroom, leaving a bowl of hot soup and some water on your bedside table.

You were miserable, today was such a nice day. The days after a rainy day were always the best so it sucked that you were stuck in your room. You had nothing to do and were spacing out while constantly readjusting your pillow.

You heard noise from downstairs and slumped out of bed and cracked your door open to see who it was.

“I am sorry, Qiu. MC is sick today. I don’t think it's best to have a hangout.” You heard your mother say, sympathetically to your crush.

“Really? They never get sick..” Qiu replied, a confused tone making an obvious appearance in their voice.

“MC got wet while it was raining yesterday-“ your mother explained, her voice becoming more muffled; like she was moving around.

“Aw, man. Ms. L/N, Could the two of us hang out, I promise to “ They’re voice also begun to be muffled up, like the walls were swallowing their words.

You had already assumed that your mother would be true to her word and keep you quarantined until you were feeling better and you hated how much she cared about you at that moment.

You were so drowsy from the medicine, the lights were too bright and you accidentally knocked your hand on the bedpost and everything just SUCKED.

You slowly closed the door and slid down it. Becoming too lazy to bother. You wanted to cry a little, You didn’t cry that often; I mean you were 14. What 14-year-olds cries because they’re sick? Like, please.

You brought a hand to your eye to wipe a stray tear from your eye, I guess you were the rare instance of crying teenagers. Contemplating crawling back to your bed, you suddenly felt the door open a little before something was thrown into your room like a grenade.

The door closing was barely noticed by you as you quickly turned to see what was thrown into your room.

A paper cup, with a string attached to it and leading out the door.

A small smile appeared on your face, your eyes glossing over at the gesture; You already knew who was the culprit behind it.

You picked the cup up from the floor and put it up to your ear.

“Hey. Sorry, you’re sick..” they apologized sincerely.

“It’s fine, really *sniff*” you replied, getting comfortable against the door and talking into the cup.

“I am not used to being sick.”

“I can tell. In the four years I've known you, You have NEVER gotten sick.” Qiu said, a little surprise in their voice.

“I know right, I hate it!”

And the conversation went from there, You two talked for what seemed like hours.

Debated about if you churned premade butter, would you get more butter or if it would turn to milk?

Played hangman with a shared paper that was pushed under the door multiple times.

They hated hearing you cough and suffer and hoped that you got better.

Qiu stayed with you until it was late, promising a fun day at the diner tomorrow.

TAMARACK BAUMANN🍂

She unintentionally babies you so hard when you get sick.

I have a headcanon that Tamarack barely gets sick, mostly due to her just being able to run around in just a scarf and no hats or jackets.

She believes that no one is immune to sickness but when you finally do get sick, she’s a little surprised but is ready to bring you her Omi’s soup and her company.

If you were feeling especially loopy or dazed then she would giggle A LITTLE, but then stop because she felt bad.

“pfft hehe- Oh no, that's not right. I am sorry!”

“…Do you think when you are born, that you’re the youngest person in the entire world?”

When you do get sad and emotional over small things and start bawling over it then Tamarack is so quick to try and help.

Accidentally slam your hand on a table? The table is now moved away for now. The water scratches your throat when you drink it? She’s getting you some tea, you like honey with yours; right?

When you are stuck in bed and have nothing to do, then count on Tamarack to give you some company. She doesn’t even really care if she’s potentially getting herself sick by being around.

She’s bringing stuff from outside and putting it on your table as a gift and chatting with you.

She understands not having someone around your age to talk to and she doesn’t want you feeling abandoned when you’re stuck in your room until you feel better.

And when she eventually has to be asked to leave from your mother, she will be writing you letters, drawing, and collecting forest finds to either wait to give you or give to your mother to send up to you.

She even gets a ‘Get well soon’ card and tries and get everyone to sign it for you.

Which admittedly isn’t all that hard.

You have lots of lovely people around in your life, Tamarack being a special one.

“MC, You are burning up..” Your mother said worriedly, laying the back of her hand on your forehead.

“*sneeze* this is the worst.” You groaned, regretting your past choices up to this point. This morning, you had forgotten to bring a jacket and it was much chillier than you were used to.

“That's why I always remind you to bring yourself a jacket.” Your mom sighed, getting up.

“I will start making you something to eat. I will make you some oatmeal, stay all cozied up in bed and take it easy.” She gave you a motherly smile, patting your knee before leaving with the door closing gently behind her.

You were now alone.

This did suck, You had promised you would go over to Tamarack’s and you hated flaking on your promises.

So you just sat in your bed, twiddling your thumbs. Maybe you could start on assignments right now..? Nah. That was boring, your body’s immune system was already torturing you; let's not add homework to it.

You could draw something? Reorganize? Watch a video online-

Before you could bore yourself to death, you heard a pebble being thrown at your window and moved your attention to that.

You got up from your bed and wrapped yourself in your blanket before stepping over to the small window to reveal...

Tamarack!

You opened the window and received another pebble, barely missing you; earning an apologetic gasp from the ginger girl outside.

"Sorry! I wasn't aiming for you!" she apologized, waving her hand side to side as a greeting. You smiled before moving your face away from the window to cough.

"It's okay, Tama! *wheeze*" You reassured her, leaning on the ajar window to hear her better.

"I wanted to come inside but your mom said you were sick and was quarantining you.." Tamarack sighed before pulling something from her pocket.

You could barely make out what it was, that's until Tamarack got into paper airplane position and aimed for it at the now open window.

You moved out of the way just in time for her to throw it and......

She sticks the landing! The paper airplane flew right into your room and onto the ground. You picked up the white and red lined paper and turned back to Tamarack to open it.

Inside the airplane were a few pressed flowers and a little note.

'Get Well Soon!' was written in big letters; little notes from other people were below it.

'I hope you feel better'-Ren

'Expect me to break into your house soon.'- Qiu

'Make sure to get lots of rest'-Vianca

'See you when you get better!!'-Serenity

and finally, the sweetest one.

'Thinking of you, always! I will keep you company until you feel better! :)'-Tamarack

You smiled big before yelling down from your window. “Tamarack?”

“Yeah?” She replied , looking up with a shy smile.

“You are a angel”

#fanfic #our life now and forever #olnf #orion4ever #gb patch #olnf qiu #olnf mc #olnf tamarack #qiu lin x mc #qiu lin #qiu lin x reader #tamarack baumann #tamarack baumann x reader #tamarack baumann x mc #our life tamarack #our life now and forever tamarack #our life qiu #our life now and forever qiu

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quest-for-pluto · 1 year

Text

Sparkles

Aonung x Human!Female!Reader

Chapter Index Next →

Summary: You work as maintenance at base 36, a testing facility used for unethical experiments on captured local Na’vi. One day when the base’s power supply melts down and explodes, you’re caught in the flaming crossfire. In a split second decision, you also decide to free the panicking Na’vi in his glass cell.

Aged up!Aonung to 21 and reader is 20

Chapter 1: think fast

Mission report: Base 36 quarantined due to overheated power supply explosion. Evacuated and searching for survivors.

•

“No no no no,” you cried, banging on the locked door. “I can’t die like this!”

Blaring alarms wailed loudly in the empty halls, the heavy smoke in the air muting the red flashing lights. You coughed into a closed fist, feeling the uncomfortable heat raging against your back.

The center of base 36 was locked down, after the power supply had exploded and started a massive, fast traveling fire that ate up everything in its path. They had immediately closed off the affected area, assuming everyone to be dead. And everyone was dead.

Except you.

“Fuck, fuck,” you swore, speed-entering every password you could think of on the keypad keeping the door sealed shut.

Incorrect password. Incorrect password. Incorrect password.

“For fuck’s sake!” You screamed, punching the titanium with all of your strength. It didn’t even budge, but now your knuckle was bloody and bruised. Well great.

Shoving your hands into your hair, you pulled frantically at the roots. “Okay think y/n, think.”

The fire hadn’t reached you yet, but it was close. You knew that it was coming from the hall on the right, but the center of base 36 was a circular design, so pretty soon the fire would be coming from both directions. If you went left, you had a chance of being stranded in the middle of the hallway, but if you didn’t—well, you would be stranded either way.

“Shit,” you dragged a frustrated hand down your face, before turning left and sprinting as fast as you could.

The walls blurred past you as you ran, your breath and heartbeat echoing heavily in your ears. The air was thick with smoke and heat, making your abused lungs ache.

You turned a corner and suddenly shrieked, skidding ungracefully to a stop only a few inches away from a jagged metal pole. The path that you needed to follow had caved in, blocked by a wall of heavy cement and metal debris. It was impossible to cross without somehow impaling or crushing yourself.

Brrrrrrk, the base shook, a deep rumbling noise that made you grab onto the wall for support as your eyes widened.

A cloud of dust suddenly showered over you, making you slowly look up in fear.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you whimpered as you watched the ceiling start to crack above you.

Cursing profusely under your breath, you jumped into a random room to your left—grunting as your abused ribs hit the ground—and just barely missing the avalanche of dust and debris that buried that floor where you stood only a second ago. Coughing, you waved away the dust as it slowly settled around you.

To your horror, the entrance was now blocked with debris too, effectively trapping you inside. Well, you thought with a sinking resignation. No turning back now.

The room you had found yourself in was very large, about the size of an aircraft hangar. It was all dark, except for the flashing red warning lights that were also present around the rest of the base. High, overarching ceilings hung above you, supported by thick metal beams. The floors were a cold, porous grey concrete. You didn’t usually have clearance to be here, so the layout was foreign to you.

“Hello?” You called out hesitantly as you picked yourself off the ground, eyes scanning hopefully for any signs of life, but to no avail. Everything was quiet and abandoned.

The further you walked into the room, the more bizarre it got. Large glass encasements lined the walls, much too large to be cells. Not when the ceilings of these things were at least fifteen feet tall.

Or maybe, it was meant to hold something much larger than a human.

You gulped, warily continuing forward. You were a maintenance worker and carrier, so you didn’t really know what they got up to in the testing facilities. You just transported the samples that the lab technicians gave you and made sure that the equipment was clean and functional.

THUMP THUMP THUMP.

The sudden, loud banging noises made you gasp, taking a few startled steps back. Glancing in the direction of the sounds, you noticed that they seemed to be coming from one of the glass encasements a little further into the room—the only one still lit up.

You gulped, leaning your back against the wall and clutching at your chest. To investigate for exits, you would need to cross the room, and to cross the room, you would need to pass in front of that thing making those disturbing noises.

In the near distance, a deafening popping noise reverberated in the hall, vibrating against the walls and rattling your teeth. Shit, the fire was too close now, you needed to act fast. The thumping noises on the glass got more insistent, frantically picking up tempo and increasing in force.

“Ha…” you exhaled, gathering what little remained of your nerve. “Okay Y/n, this is happening.”

Without a second glance behind you, you ran as fast as you could, keeping your eyes trained in front of you.

Don’t look, you chided yourself. Don’t look. Don’t look you idiot.

THA-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.

You looked, eyes shifting disobediently to your left and then…up. And higher. And they kept climbing until your neck was practically craned at a ninety degree angle, eyes wide and mouth gaping at an almost ten-foot-tall, blue humanoid figure.

“Oh, shit!” You shrieked, stumbling backwards and just nearly managing to catch yourself before you fell on your ass. “What the fuck is that?!”

The creature was male, as far as you could tell, with intricate black tattoo markings climbing up his biceps, neck and face. His hands—four fingered, you noticed in disturbance—were pressed against the glass walls of his enclosure, pointy canines protruding viciously from behind his lips as he hissed soundlessly at you.

Oh. Oh. You knew what he was. You’d heard too many horror stories from your coworkers not to recognize his monstrous features.

He was a local. A Na’vi. Apparently they were savage barbarians, mercilessly killing humans for pleasure and keeping their bones as decorations and trophies. They were no different from animals. Every single nerve in your body was screaming at you to get the hell away from it.

You gritted your teeth and sprinted past his cell, much to his visible anger and indignation. No way in hell were you going to let that thing out. You weren’t planning to die any earlier than you had to, thank you very much.

Thump.

That one was softer, sounding almost defeated. It made you pause, not able to stop yourself from glancing back over your shoulder curiously.

It—he had his head resting against the glass, fist slowly sliding down the surface. His other hand clutched reverently at what looked like a shark tooth pendant around his neck, lips moving quickly as if he was muttering desperate prayers under his breath.

Oh, no. No no no. Was that a shred of guilt you were feeling, Y/n? Banish the thought.

But…the more you looked at him, the less he seemed like a mindless barbarian who would enjoy ripping you limb from limb until you were just a bloody stump with a head, and the more he looked like—well, someone who was scared shitless of dying. Like you.

Another loud bang shook the base, gnawing at your conscience uncomfortably. The place where his eyebrows should have been furrowed, a painfully resigned expression contorting his face.

Shit. You were going to do something very, very stupid, weren’t you?

“You better not kill me, you stupid blue yeti,” you grumbled under your breath, running back towards his cell.

His head lifted when he saw you approaching, large blue eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grimaced. “I’m back, don’t get too excited.”

Now you just had to figure out how to work technology you’d never seen in your life.

Frantically you scanned the complex control panel on the wall, your heart dropping as you stared helplessly at all of the different colorful buttons and switches. Of course it couldn’t be simple.

“Oh come on,” you moaned in despair, pulling at the roots of your hair. “Have you people never heard of labels before?!”

You felt his eyes boring into you as you nervously started pushing, turning and flipping random controls. So far, you’d managed to brighten the lights in his cell, play some music (—move your body like a hologram—), and activate a large gust of air that blasted him right in the face, messing up his hair. That earned you a stink eye.

“Oh, shut up, I’m trying!” You hissed anxiously at him, even though you were pretty sure that the glass was sound resistant so he couldn’t actually hear you, much less understand you.

All of a sudden, the metal frames of the entrance to the room started creaking loudly, grating on your eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. You looked on in horror as they began to cave in from the sheer intensity of the heat. The fire had finally caught up.

The Na’vi’s hands pressed insistently against the glass, staring down at you wide-eyed with a look that you knew meant hurry the fuck up, stupid human.

At this point you were just full on slapping and elbowing anything you could reach. “Come on!” You pleaded frantically as a wave of heat made a sheen of sweat break out over your skin. “This is really cutting it close, Y/n!”

To your overwhelming relief, the sweet sound of gears whirling and clasps unhinging blessed your ears as you watched the glass door to his cell unseal with a loud whoosh and swing open. And damn, were you unprepared for how incredibly tall he was.

It literally felt like you were standing next to a museum exhibit.

You didn’t really have time to think about it though, because the fire was now starting to eat its way inside the lengthy room.

“Oh, shit,” you swore, hearing him spit something of the same tone in a foreign language you didn’t understand.

Your eyes frantically scanned the back end of the room. Most of it was just cement wall, work stations and different types of weird machinery. Behind one of the stations though, there was a bulkhead door about two feet shorter than your giant blue companion, with a wheel to seal it shut.

“There!” You exclaimed, pointing at it as you made a beeline for the handle. Grabbing onto the wheel, you pulled it counterclockwise with all of your strength. But no matter how hard you pulled, it just wouldn’t budge.

“Arghhhh!” You screamed in frustration, digging your feet into the ground as your knuckles turned white from how tightly you gripped onto the handle.

Suddenly, a large hand gripped your shoulder, shoving you harshly away. “Rikx mìso!” He hissed at you, grabbing onto the wheel himself and pulling.

The rusty wheel creaked loudly as it began to turn from the sheer amount of brute force exerted on it.

“Any time now,” you tittered nervously as the heat on your back started to become painfully hot. You could now see the intense waves of heat in the air, distorting your vision like an unfocused camera lens.

The Na’vi huffed, turning it even harder, and soon enough the lock unclamped with a few clicks, leaving the watertight door to swing wide open. Both of you lunged inside, with him slamming and resealing the door behind you just as a station exploded violently nearby, the flames chasing at your heels.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked, stumbling back and falling into a cold wall. The bulkhead door had led into what looked like a decently sized storage room. Rebreathers hung on the walls, as well as protective gear that you knew the excursion division used. You didn’t really get to analyze much more than that though, because to your absolute horror, the door creaked ominously in front of you, warping from the intense heat that it was not meant to withstand.

“Shit!” Your eyes widened as you staggered away, almost tripping over your feet in your haste. You needed to get out of here now.

You ran to the sealed exit door, pushing on it in frustration. “No,” you cried when it refused to open, tears welling up in your eyes. “No, not now! Please.”

Your heart sunk further when you noticed the keypad next to the door, identical to the one you were trying to unlock earlier. You were right back to where you started.

Taking a few steps back, you stared numbly at the floor. This was it, then? This was how you were going to die.

The Na’vi ran up beside you, pounding desperately on the exit door, but you knew it wouldn’t budge. It was locked, sealed shut and made of titanium alloy like all of the other doors you’d discovered lining the edges of the base ever since it had been quarantined. The only way to open it was with the code. A code that you didn’t have clearance for.

“It’s not going to work,” you told him, staring at the concrete blankly. “Even if you fired a bullet at that thing, it wouldn’t even dent.”

He didn’t seem to listen to you, still pounding furiously at the reinforced metal. When that didn’t work, he let out a deep, guttural yell, turning to you with anger in his eyes.

Storming up to you, he grabbed the collar of your shirt, lifting you up to his eye level and sneering in your face. Your breath stuttered in fear as you stared into his deep, sea blue irises. They were much more vivid up close, mixed with swirling flecks of green and gold.

They pierced into your soul, burning with rage and fear but most of all, they burned with an unwavering defiance. In that moment, you understood perfectly what he was trying to tell you.

“Okay,” you found yourself nodding slowly. “We can try.”

He set you down, and you both got to work, scouring the room for anything that would possibly help you escape. The only light source in the room was the setting sun through two tiny polycarbonate glass windows to your left and right, and a measly flickering pot light above you.

You patted desperately at the walls, wrenching ration packs off of shelves, and ripping open closet doors. So far you'd found food, hunting knives, folded clothes, some rifles, camo backpacks, rebreather masks, a water filtering kit and a pair of boots. Nothing that would help you bust down the door though.

It looked like your companion wasn't having much luck either, although he seemed much more wary of the items he found, almost like he was confused and nervous to even touch them.

Creaaaaaak.

The door groaned behind you, parts of the metal starting to dent inward and blister. Shit shit shit. There was no more time, it was going to blow.

You stumbled over to the Na'vi, tugging on his leg until he looked down at you. "There's no time," you said, eyes wide with urgency. "We need to hide."

He glanced back at the sealed exit, before looking back down at you. He huffed, following you to one of the more secluded corners. Hastily, you began building a wall out of everything both of you could find in the room. It probably wouldn't do much, but it was the best protection you could afford. He seemed to get the message too, gathering three times as much as you could hope to hold in your limited human arms, and dumping it onto your makeshift barricade.

You grabbed a rebreather mask off the wall just in case, when suddenly you froze.

PULL TO ENGAGE EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN.

The words were now exposed, written in bold, red letters above a red metal handle. Well you'd be damned.

"Get back!" You yelled, pulling the lever down hard. It groaned, snapping into place.

Three things happened at once. The bulkhead door, which was already warped beyond repair and in the process of peeling, exploded open, exposing both of you to the most swelteringly unbearable heat you'd ever experienced. You screamed as blisters raised all along the length of your forearm, which you had raised to shield your eyes. Distantly through the pain, you could hear him crying out too.

Then, with a bang, three sets of diagonal doors emerged, sealing the entrance shut, but not before a final explosion knocked you clean off your feet. You cracked your head against a wall, and everything went dark.

************

Rikx mìso! = Move!/Move away!

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