#just feeling particularly glum today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tehuti88-art · 2 years

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9/23/22: r/SketchDaily theme, "Moving Water/Free Draw Friday." (I did Free Draw Friday.) Two portraits today.

This week's (second) character from my anthro WWII storyline is a very new fellow, Sturmbannführer (Major) Konstantin Klaus. Regarding his design, his cap looks funny because he wears it with the stiffener removed for a "crushed" look. He also has a nasty scar over his eye, though his eyesight is unaffected. About his facial expression, he isn't sad or depressed, he's just a rather bored apathetic sort. There'll be some info about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

TUMBLR EDIT: Major Klaus (I kind of got attached to the name Klaus from a couple of different sources and wanted to use it, but since my characters are mostly referred to by surname, had to check if that was acceptable--it is--then had to come up with a first name--Konstantin--so yeah, you end up with Kommandant (Commandant) Konstantin Klaus, that's rather...uh...anyway) is a very very new character about whom I don't know much yet, though he did tell me a bit of his story. More will likely surface as he develops. Not that long ago, the only SS who were meant to appear in my story were the Allgemeine-SS, but gradually the SS-Totenkopfverbände and Waffen-SS emerged with their own characters, so there went that intention! And not that long ago the only camp directly referenced in the story was the smallish labor camp belonging to Commandant Dannecker/Commandant Reinhardt, but very recently, the thought of a camp in the rodent half of the story seeped into my mind. Probably because of Dr. Kammler seeking test subjects from there, and getting Wolfstein. I knew Wolfstein had spent time in a camp, but it wasn't intended to be in the story. Well! So much for that. A second camp appeared. This one was much different from the previous camp. It was MUCH bigger, and not just a labor camp, but a death camp, too. Mostly because I don't want it to seem like I figure all camps were just places someone went to to work and that was it, not by a long shot. I take LOTS of liberties with this fictional camp system (like why do my characters ride trains there when the camps are, like, at the other side of the city?--LEAVE ME ALONE) but that's not one of them.

The new camp needed a commandant and that's where Klaus came from. Almost from the start he came across as glum and apathetic, not because he's particularly guilty feeling or anything, but because...well, he just is. He doesn't seem to care too much about anything. This put him in direct contrast with my other two commandants, Ernst Dannecker and Hasso Reinhardt.

Dannecker was the commandant dreaded and feared by everyone he came into contact with, with a reputation for not just violence and malice but for sadistic mind games as well. I hesitate to call his behavior "horrific violence" because he didn't do the sort of stuff you can read about real SS guards doing. But he was nasty enough anyway. For him, terrorizing his prisoners was more satisfying than killing them, so he'd draw that psychological torture out as long as he could. (Though yeah, he'd outright kill them on occasion, too.) He was also just a gigantic skeezebag who broke/neglected numerous SS rules, terrorized his own guards, literally TRADED A HUMAN BEING for the price of a tapestry, had a creepy weird relationship with his stepdaughter, called his devoted wife (the only person to miss him when he was gone) a cow and reviled her behind her back, subjected even his obedient kapo, Isaak Schindel, to a particularly humiliating punishment he didn't even deserve, etc. etc.

Reinhardt, who takes his place, is a reformer. Yes, he's still in the SS, yes, he still runs a labor camp. He focuses, though, on trying to make things a LITTLE more humane as well as productive and less wasteful. He's strict, but technically not cruel or spiteful. Do your job decently and he leaves you alone. The drawback is he constantly has to defend his actions to the rest of the SS, who find this sort of behavior counterproductive. The prisoners do their work well enough under him, however, that his superiors don't question TOO much. He even improves living conditions and tries to sort out the system of execution (something necessary even in a labor camp) to not be so messy anymore, and assigns tasks better suited for particular inmates; one of the recipients of his kindness, Schindel, even stays behind in the camp after Reinhardt opens the gates following the Allied takeover of the city, and remains by the wounded Reinhardt's side until the Americans show up. (They assume he's one of the SS guards in disguise at first since he refuses to leave Reinhardt.) Reinhardt ends up in a prison rather than executed due to these actions. (Oh, right. Dannecker would have definitely ended up executed, if one of his prisoners hadn't murdered him first.)

Klaus is neither a psychopath nor a reformer. He's just...there. Doing his job, because it's what he was told to do. He in fact parrots this line unthinkingly more than once in the story, that he's just doing what he was told to do. (Sound familiar?) It seems like an excuse but Klaus genuinely believes it, because it turns out he's never really thought it through all the way. He's been taught not to question things and just do his job. So, he does.

I believe Klaus starts out in the Waffen-SS, like Major Jäger, and similar to him, is wounded--likely how he got the nasty scar over his eye--and transfers out. (Same thing happens with Lt. Hesse on the canine side, though I don't think Klaus is old enough to have served in the Great War.) Unlike Jäger and Hesse, he doesn't transfer to the Allgemeine-SS but in the direction that actually makes more sense, to the SS-Totenkopfverbände. There was a lot of overlap between these two branches, with members switching between one and the other; Klaus can't stomach the thought of pushing papers in a bureaucracy like Jäger does, so he decides to head for the camps. An opening appears for a commandant and he's placed in charge of the camp in the story--not exactly the position of authority he'd wished for (he's not the most motivated guy), but what can you do. The weird thing is, he's very good at this job. He's s**t with names, not so good with faces, but he remembers numbers, he remembers dates and times and places, and he can pair them up in relation to each other to keep track of lots of information with minimal hassle. And given that running a camp depends so heavily on numbers and dates and times and places, that means he keeps very good track of everything that's going on, down to where prisoners with particular ID numbers were sent off to after leaving his camp, and when. He may be apathetic but he's also very efficient, and keeps the camp running much more smoothly than Dannecker's much smaller camp ever did. (In this respect, he has a lot in common with Lance Corporal Mahogany Rat, who's quite obviously on the spectrum and thinks of people more as numbers than as names/faces, except this particular...skill?--deficit?...is a lot more useful in a place where people give up their names and become numbers.)

One disturbing aspect of this is how Klaus's flat affect manifests itself in relation to his prisoners. He frequently refers to them as his "sticks"--inanimate objects, bundles of wood, often stacked atop each other and placed in the ovens to be burned. Really disgusting and disturbing, but he says it without even thinking, like he's barely ever considered the possibility that he's dealing with actual people. Weirdly, he shows no malice toward the prisoners--it would be like showing malice toward an object, and that makes no sense. So while this contrasts with the usual more sadistic guards, it's perfectly in keeping with his personality. Objects are beneath him but they aren't worth getting mad at, either.

Something Klaus becomes well known for is his business and bargaining savvy. His ability to keep track of his prisoners means he knows which ones are most productive or most talented, and this serves him well in determining who gets assigned to craft duties such as manufacturing SS uniforms, memorabilia such as Julleuchter (kitschy SS holiday lanterns), and various items to sell to provide funding for the SS. (Jeez the SS is tacky.) One such prisoner is Jakob Wolfstein, who catches Klaus's attention when he offers to fix Klaus's coat sleeve after another prisoner accidentally tears it (one of the rare occasions Klaus loses his temper and threatens an inmate); Wolfstein's quick but precise stitching impresses Klaus enough to assign him permanently to craft duties. Just as he bargains and strikes deals with other officials to either save or make money, he's willing to do the same with the prisoners if they have something to offer, and occasionally hands out privileges as incentives for better work. Inmates can even directly approach him when he walks through the camp and plead their case; he listens to all reasonable offers, and at the very least doesn't punish anyone just for having the audacity to ask. He's relatively frugal, though he makes enough money for himself to have a nice comfortable home and staff located on camp property (as required).

An issue arises, however, which bemuses and annoys him: The SS wishes for him to get married. The birth rate in Germany has dropped, and the Third Reich places a great emphasis on its citizens having children, the more the better. SS rules actually stipulate that a good SS man is to marry a decent Aryan woman and father at least four children. Not all officers follow through on this, though, and Klaus has zero interest in starting a family. Even the financial incentives the SS offers aren't enough to convince him otherwise; he's content being on his own. The SS is insistent in this case though, presumably because Klaus is such a public figure, and after some further resistance on his part, they decide to arrange a marriage on his behalf. (Was this sort of thing actually done in the SS? I dunno. It's done for the sake of this story, though.) If Klaus isn't interested in seeking out a suitable bride, they'll just find one for him.

Klaus isn't happy about this at all--"What time have I for a wife?--a family?--when I have my camp to run and my guards to watch and my sticks to keep in line?" he grouses--but has no choice. An acquaintance of his helps facilitate the process and keeps him up to date. It doesn't take long for the SS to locate a suitable mate, but she has to attend an SS bride school first to make sure she's ready for the role. This is all really weird for the asocial Klaus and for the most part he just tries to put it out of his mind until the young woman completes bride school and the time comes for them to marry. Yep--they're to get married without ever having even met each other first. "What if I don't like her?" Klaus asks his acquaintance (unknown to him, his intended bride is asking her own family, "What if he doesn't like me?"); that doesn't matter, what matters is they produce pure Aryan children for the Reich. Love?--romance?--those are unnecessary, a mere side benefit to those who experience them. Just treat her halfway decently, father some children, and he'll be set.

The SS performs its own weird occultish version of wedding ceremonies; I don't know all the details, but Klaus arrives in his dress uniform and his intended bride in her dress, and they meet each other for the first time. It's awkward, but not terribly so; they don't get a chance to talk to each other yet but do kind of timidly peer at each other. Emma, her name is, is a little bit stocky and brunette (she wears her hair in braids coiled on the sides) and somewhat plain but when she peers at him sideways she offers a small smile which makes him blush and look away. (She thinks he's handsome, though rather stiff and standoffish so she wonders if she's offended him or if he's disappointed.) The marriage ceremony goes through without a hitch (nyuk nyuk) and the new husband and wife head back to the camp, where Klaus's home is located. The two of them know exactly nothing about each other (well, she knows he's the commandant of the camp, that's it), so they have some catching up to do. His reasons are obvious, but Klaus wonders why Emma agreed to an arranged marriage sight unseen; she explains she wasn't any good at finding a partner for herself, being so plain and shy, so her aunt and uncle decided to find a husband for her. They'd thought of trying to find one through the Lebensborn program, though this isn't the specific purpose of the program (Major Ludolf Jäger, in the Allgemeine-SS, found his wife through Lebensborn, though she was an unwed mother-to-be at the time and he adopted the child as his own when she was born); her aunt then just happened to run into Klaus's acquaintance at a social gathering, and the two got to talking--when they realized they both had a common goal in mind, they exchanged information and started making plans. Emma fit all the SS's racial hygiene requirements, but didn't know much about housekeeping and women's work, so went to attend the SS bride school. (Just a quick aside to say that yes, SS bride schools WERE a thing, they were apparently called Reich Bride Schools, though I know little about them and have taken lots of liberties as usual.) She's lucky--as camp commandant and such a skilled businessman, Klaus is technically a "catch," though he doesn't feel like one. Klaus doesn't know if he's lucky or not.

They arrive at Klaus's house--"Just a heads-up, I don't have any fancy mountain chateau, if that's what you expected"--and Emma meets his small help staff, who greet her warmly (they figure it's about time he got married). She asks when she's to make him his dinner; confused, he says he has his staff to do that, but she insists it's part of her bridal duties to prepare the food; finally they agree that the staff will show her the ropes first and then they can figure it out amongst themselves. (Again, this is stuff Klaus never bothered thinking about before.) She asks when he gets up to go to work in the morning so she knows when to have his uniform washed and pressed and polished and ready to go; all of this flusters him terribly. (A high point, she makes strudel for dessert, and Klaus LOVES strudel. And Emma makes very good strudel.) The most flustering thing of all is when the time comes for bed; the two of them avoid the obvious for as long as they can, Emma fiddling her fingers nervously, until Klaus finally blurts out, "We don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want." It isn't pure altruism on his part--he's feeling as uncomfortable about their conjugal duties as she is. Emma is obviously relieved (so is he) but says, "Just, let me have until tomorrow night, bitte?--I'll be prepared by then, I promise." He suspects he won't feel any less awkward by then, but for the sake of a decent night's sleep agrees. Not that either of them gets a decent night's sleep though, I'm pretty sure they spend most of the night lying beside each other wide awake and agonizing. Emma seems nice, she has a pretty smile and makes fantastic strudel, but Klaus just wants his solitary bachelor life back.

He goes to work early the next day, comes home late the next evening. (It's a full-time job running a camp.) While he's away Emma keeps herself distracted getting to know the house and staff better. She's puzzled to find a grand piano. Yep, a grand piano. It's kept dusted off and such but looks unused and the staff confirm that this is so, Klaus never plays it, because he doesn't know how. Why does he have a grand piano? Apparently it was a weird gift somebody gave him. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Emma, however, knows how to play the piano, so she fiddles around with it (well...pianos around with it?) a bit to amuse herself--it's a tiny bit out of tune--before going on to other things. She helps prepare dinner this time and makes sure everything is nice and ready for when her new husband comes home. Just as before, the staff all leave them alone when they eat together and Klaus is about as awkward as the previous day, though they do try to make a bit more smalltalk to get to know each other. Emma brings up the piano, and Klaus confirms it was a gift, albeit one he had no use for, thus why it's stashed away in an empty sunroom he never uses, either. When Emma says she knows how to play it, he humors her and they pay the instrument another visit; she plays a tune he finds familiar, and she's surprised when he joins her on a harmonica (which he does know how to play). It's odd, but it breaks the ice. That night, and the next morning, aren't nearly so awkward. Later that day while Klaus is at work, Emma is surprised again when someone shows up to tune the piano.

Well, turns out Emma's family and the SS actually made a good match, and Klaus and Emma get along quite well, calling each other "sweet Em" and "my Konstantin." Emma likes doing her best to be a good traditional wife though Klaus is lenient enough that it's fine if she slips up. Klaus has very few words though the few he does have seem good enough for Emma. She gives him something to look forward to when he gets off work, and he doesn't miss being a bachelor so much anymore. They never do meet the SS goal of at least four children, though they do have two young sons, and although Klaus isn't the most emotionally demonstrative dad in the world he adores them both. It's really not a bad life. (For him, at least; can't really speak for the people in the camp.)

Of course Klaus interacts regularly with his fellow SS members, including those in the other branches. He comes into contact with Capt. Otto Himmel as a result of dealing with requests from his brother-in-law, Dr. Dietmar Kammler. Dr. Kammler is running a medical experiment which requires subjects with a very rare blood type, so he regularly sends out requests to places with large populations of prisoners, disabled persons, and other "undesirables" who might fit the bill; Klaus's camp is a good source of test subjects, even those who don't fit this particular requirement yet can be useful in other experiments. Klaus actually finds these requests annoying; he doesn't see the point of experimentation. If sticks aren't good enough to be on equal standing with Aryans then how can they be any good as test subjects? But obviously the rest of the Third Reich doesn't share his opinion on this, so every time one of Kammler's requests comes through, he has to go over it and accept or deny it. SS regulations stipulate that the vast majority of requests be granted so he isn't actually required to go over every request, but he does so anyway, mostly to annoy Kammler for the hassle, and he makes a point of complaining whenever Kammler pays a visit as well. It's obvious he and Kammler dislike but have to tolerate each other.

This is the likely reason why he gets along with Capt. Himmel, because Himmel also despises but has to get along with Kammler. Himmel is also a rather gloomy, taciturn sort, another thing they have in common. In fact, for a brief time Emma even develops a crush on him, always bringing a strudel when she visits where he works (Himmel also has a fondness for sweets); Himmel is even more awkward around women than Klaus is, yet they keep hitting on him anyway. (He's one of very very few guys doing secretarial-type work in an office full of female SS auxiliaries and let's just say there's a lot of thirst going on.) Himmel is incredibly flustered by the attention, yet the observant Klaus has a theory about the reason: Himmel is a widower, and "Women like to fix broken men." "Like moths to a flame," he adds, making it clear that he knows Emma has a crush on Himmel, because she keeps bringing him strudel--"She must really like you." Himmel, alarmed by this, privately asks Emma to stop bringing him strudel, because that's something she should do for her husband instead. Emma is mortified and ashamed to realize how inappropriately she's been acting, and hurries back to Klaus to beg forgiveness for her unfaithfulness, though really all she's done is express her condolences and bring Himmel lots of dessert pastries. Klaus is infuriated--but not with Emma, because like I said, he already knew about her "impure thoughts." He confronts Himmel to lambaste him for making Emma feel bad--"I told you that in confidence!" he snaps, regarding his comments about women needing to fix broken men. Himmel, even more bewildered by this turn of events, tries to stammer an explanation, but Klaus just clenches his fists, yells, "STOP TALKING TO MY WIFE!!" and departs. Himmel's boss, Maj. Jäger, witnesses part of this exchange and exclaims, "Kamerad! What is this? There are plenty of single women out there, you don't need to target the married ones!" Himmel just hides his face and grumbles.

Anyway...although he dislikes it, Klaus has to put up with Kammler's frequent requests for test subjects. One day after blood samples are taken of everyone currently in the camp, a second such request comes through, though for only one inmate--Jakob Wolfstein, who is so skilled at making kitschy craft items for sale, and once fixed Klaus's torn sleeve. After the second blood sample is processed, Kammler requests Wolfstein to be sent to him as a test subject. This request is an odd one, not like the others; Kammler has never shown interest in a specific prisoner. Klaus is rather sorry to see Wolfstein go (even if he can't remember his name); he was good at what he did, and the commandant feels like sending him away to some experiment is most likely a waste. I don't think he ever learns of Wolfstein's fate, becoming the first success of Project Doomsday; the incident is kept somewhat quiet considering that Wolfstein is Jewish, and Kammler soon after switches his attention to Himmel's son, Kolten, who's mentally disabled but at least he's Aryan. Klaus has no involvement in any of this, and really doesn't care to be involved.

Since he's more of a secondary/tertiary character, I don't know much about Klaus's role in the bulk of the story; he's there kind of at the start, and toward the end. More about him may come to light later, but it's hazy at the moment. He reenters the story when the Third Reich is on its last legs and the Americans are approaching the city from one side, the Red Army from the other. Klaus had rather prided himself on how well he ran his camp, but times have grown tough by now and conditions have significantly deteriorated--the trains aren't running as reliably as before, with more coming than going, and he has significantly more prisoners than the camp was intended to hold. Disease, exposure, and starvation are starting to run rampant. Communication with higher-ups in the SS has become sporadic too, since many of them have bailed out early, so he has no real recourse to get everything sorted out. Not to mention everyone in the city is starting to panic, including his own guards. Most of them end up fleeing, disobeying his direct orders and making off with many of the camp's records to try to cover up any evidence of their crimes. The camp is left with just a skeleton staff...and a bunch of very, very angry inmates.

When word reaches them that the Allies have finally entered the city, and American troops come within sight of the camp's fences and demand the surrender of the remaining SS officers, the prisoners who are in good enough physical shape revolt. One of the kapos strikes Klaus in the leg with his club--smashing his kneecap and crippling him instantly--and a group of inmates knocks him to the ground and starts pummeling him, breaking his nose, blackening his eyes, fracturing a rib; it's only the intervention of the American soldiers who breach the camp that saves his life, and they have to push the prisoners back and drag the badly injured Klaus out of the brawl, ignoring the prisoners' yells to let them take care of him. Klaus was never particularly horrible to his prisoners, but a Nazi is a Nazi at the end of the day, and he was responsible for the selections and the gas chambers. He and the few guards remaining are taken into American custody while the Allies try to figure out what to do about the camp itself, which is freaking huge, and full of sick and dying prisoners. They weren't quite prepared to handle this.

They also aren't really prepared to handle Klaus. They argue a bit over what to do with him--giving him back to the inmates is a popular idea--before deciding to hand him over to the Trench Rats, an American unit which has been active in the area for years already, keeping an eye on the Nazis' medical project; they have a medical ward, surely they can figure out what to do with him. Klaus is handed over with little ceremony, someone mentioning offhandedly that he should be seen by a doctor, but he's shoved into a cell and left there without this happening. He sits there for quite a while, every inch of him throbbing, before receiving his first visitor, a Trench Rat with a sergeant's insignia and a blinded eye. He's been told that Klaus likes to make bargains. As a war criminal, Klaus most likely faces execution after he'll be tried by a military tribunal; but he might just get a prison sentence of his own instead, if he helps. Thinking of Emma and his sons--whom he told to hide in the cellar of his house if everything went to s**t as he was expecting it to--he asks what it is they need to know. They're looking for a particular prisoner, the Trench Rat says, a Zigeuner (Roma) man named Nikolas; his last known location was in Klaus's camp. Klaus replies that he needs more information than that, because he doesn't know the names of his "sticks." A second Trench Rat assisting the sergeant provides an ID number, and Klaus pauses a moment to sort through his mental records before explaining that prisoners in certain groups of ID numbers such as this one went to one of various locations--some left for another camp, while some were assigned to a particular area of his camp. When was the date the ID number was assigned? The two Rats share a perplexed look before the second one looks through his file--Klaus realizes it's one of the partial files his guards left behind--and gives a date. Klaus pauses again before answering that the prisoners in that group were sent to a specific set of barracks, and the Zigeuner prisoners to one building in particular. If Nikolas is still in his camp, that's where he'll be. The Trench Rat sergeant, who gives his name as "Gold," turns to leave, when Klaus warns him he better hurry as most of his Zigeuner prisoners are in bad shape: "Killing 'em off would've been a mercy." Gold gets a disgusted look but says nothing as he departs.

A short time later, a third Trench Rat with a red cross on his helmet arrives and signals the guard to unlock the door and let him in; Klaus jumps back when he touches his face, and only then gets a very brief, dim look at his helmet, because by now his eyes are nearly swollen shut. He gives Klaus an ice pack to press against his face and examines Klaus's knee, determining that he can put it in a splint and cast but do little else, the patella is crushed and it's unlikely he'll be able to walk on it again. Klaus reacts as he always does, with indifferent resignation. When the surgeon asks what happened and learns it was the prisoners who inflicted the injuries, Klaus adds that he can't even blame them, they were just doing what prisoners do. The surgeon asks if he has any other serious injuries and he says no, though a brief examination reveals he has a broken rib as well, and the surgeon orders that he be brought to the medical ward for treatment. Once there, another patient--one of Klaus's "sticks"--sees him, and attempts to attack him, having to be restrained by a couple of Rats; Klaus can't see what's happening, though he hears a woman (Lyndsey Skye) ordering the patient back to his bed, and the patient complaining that someone like Klaus doesn't deserve to take up a bed. The woman starts to tend to him and Klaus says matter-of-factly, "He's right, you know; you shouldn't be wasting beds on people like me (he gestures at his crippled leg) when you have patients who might actually recover." "Yes, well," the woman replies, "unlike your people, we don't make distinctions like 'worthy' or 'unworthy.'" Klaus says nothing, though the comment makes him pause.

By the time Klaus is able to see again and is moved to a different part of the medical ward, Sgt. Gold pays him another visit; they succeeded in locating Nikolas based on the information he gave them. They've realized that Klaus is a mnemonist, with an unusually gifted memory for numbers and data. (Gold's companion, Mahogany, noticed that every time he's asked to recall such a detail, Klaus lifts his head and appears to be "reading" the air, as if scanning an invisible ledger; this is how he visualizes and remembers such things.) Most of the prisoner records from his camp are missing, stolen by the guards who fled and complicating the process of sorting out the remaining prisoners; however, they may not need these records, if Klaus himself remembers the necessary details. "And what's in it for me?" Klaus asks; he's already been promised a prison sentence rather than execution (if possible), so there's little left to bargain with. Gold replies that the Allies found Emma Klaus and their two children hiding in his house and took them into custody.

For the first time, Klaus shows a flicker of concern; obviously anxious, he asks if his family is all right, and insists they had nothing to do with his work. Gold assures him they're safe and will be protected while in Trench Rat custody. Klaus doesn't need any further prompting--"You keep my wife and kids safe, I'll tell you everything you want to know." He does ask if he can see Emma; independently, she's asked if she can see him. His children aren't allowed in, but the Rats do allow Emma in just briefly; she and Klaus embrace, and she frets over his black eyes and injured leg while he insists he's fine, and instructs her to do what the Rats say, and let the boys know he loves them; they share a few endearing words before she's led away again, her eyes full of tears. Klaus wipes his own eyes, takes a breath, and says, "Well, what do you need me to do?"

Even with the threat of a military tribunal hanging over his head--and no absolute guarantee that Gold's promise can be kept--Klaus proves to be one of the Allies' most useful resources. He not only gives what information he remembers from the missing records, but provides information on the most likely locations of the guards who stole them--in effect, selling out the SS-Totenkopfverbände to protect his family. When the time comes for him to stand trial, he claims he was simply following the orders of the SS, but also takes responsibility for his own actions, and testifies truthfully as to everything he and his guards did. He's found guilty of war crimes, crimes against humanity, and belonging to a criminal organization (the SS); the usual punishment for such offenses is execution, but Gold kept his promise of working to get him a prison sentence instead, and knowing that Klaus may be able to provide further information, he's given a ten-year sentence (obviously, not everyone is happy about this--including Camo, the original sergeant of the Trench Rats), and is brought to an old castle which has been converted into a prison to serve his time. (I've toyed with the idea, but am not sure yet, that this castle is the most prominent one in the story, informally known as Castle Schavitz after its former inhabitant. Needless to say, he wasn't the original owner, and there was likely at least one murder involved.)

The American military continues to make good use of Klaus while he's in prison. A particular pair visits him often, a high-ranking man and a woman, the man asking numerous questions while the woman takes notes and sorts through files. Klaus answers whatever they ask to the best of his ability. His interest is piqued when he learns that the female officer is Jewish; it's odd to him that the male officer, while formal, is cold and blunt and obviously dislikes him, yet the female officer is more courteous and seems indifferent. Klaus asks her one day, after the male officer has left and while she's picking up her files, why she doesn't seem to hate him. "What have you done to me?" she asks, to which he says, "Your people. I was certainly not good to them." She replies that while that's true, she can't let it interfere with her work. Realizing that she's a person doing a job makes Klaus stop and think, probably for one of the first times in his life. Although the male officer obviously disapproves, the two start to communicate a little more in between questioning sessions; Klaus had never thought of Jews as being anything other than the "sticks" in his camp, and the closest he'd ever gotten to one was when he briefly regretted having to send Jakob Wolfstein away. It's kind of jarring to him to realize he can hold a decent conversation with one, and not only that, but she seems smarter than he is, as well. She brings him a book to read; Klaus has never been very big on reading--the Nazi party actually advocated against learning TOO much--but he has little else to do while alone in his cell, so he accepts it. He knows enough to recognize that it's a book that was banned by the Nazis yet he reads it anyway. The next time she visits, he gives the book back; she says she'd intended for him to keep it, to which he replies, "They don't allow me to collect books here...I was hoping I could trade it for another one."

Taking the hint, she brings him a different book, and every time they meet he returns the old book and receives a new one. She brings particular books--mostly books banned by the SS--for a reason, and he's aware of what she's doing but goes along with it anyway, not only because he has nothing better to do, but because it's finally occurred to him to think about everything he's just blindly believed up till now. The more he reads, the more uncomfortable he feels, but it doesn't quite hit him until one day after answering questions he casually uses the term "sticks" for the umpteenth time and it suddenly strikes him that he's not talking about sticks, he's talking about people, not much different from the one in front of him. "Not sticks," he says; then, "So many not-sticks." He abruptly loses his voice, can't say anything further; the officers leave, and he's returned to his cell. He has lots of time to think now, and he doesn't like what he's realizing. Basically, he's realizing what a truly awful person he really is.

Emma is allowed to visit him briefly once in a while. The Trench Rats, who've maintained a skeleton force in Germany and repurposed the old Project Doomsday headquarters for their own use in sorting through the records the Allgemeine-SS left behind (Himmel, who faced a military tribunal himself, helps with this), kept their promise to maintain her and the children's safety, and for the time being they've been living in headquarters along with several other former SS members and relatives to protect them from the public. As before, it's not an arrangement everyone likes--Camo Rat, Noah Kirchheimer (a relative of Wolfstein's), Champere (a French partisan leader), and Didrika (a Roma partisan leader) are especially displeased with it--but it has to do for now. Emma expresses some concern one day that Klaus's attitude seems to have changed; he brushes off her observation with a vague excuse. The truth is he's at last starting to question the SS values he's held as long as he can remember, but seeing as she attended the SS bride school and had to meet all their criteria just to marry him, and was required to raise their sons with the same values, he doesn't want her to know this. The Allies are implementing the process of "denazifying" Germany, which means purging Nazis from positions of authority and influence, though in at least a few cases, they're attempting to flip former Nazi officials to their side as well. This isn't for purely idealistic reasons--mainly, they're attempting to counter the Soviet Communists--and it isn't even always required to "convert" the Nazis before bringing them on board--lots of them get off scot-free. But this is what starts happening with Klaus. He can't quite hide his feelings one day when Emma visits, but still refuses to explain why until he asks how the boys are doing with their lessons. Emma confesses that she's gradually stopped trying to instill SS values in them, in hopes of blending in better once they leave the Americans' custody. She expects anger and disappointment; but Klaus just offers a small resigned laugh, and briefly clasps her hands (touching isn't allowed, though they manage it a few times). He allays her worry and confusion by simply saying she's done the right thing.

Klaus's continued assistance to the Allies, combined with his apparent harmlessness--he's permanently lost the use of his leg and needs to get around on crutches or in a wheelchair, and expresses no interest in trying to get back in touch with any of his former SS colleagues still remaining (I mean why would he, when he pretty much sold them all out)--play a large role in authorities determining he can be released from prison early. Several parties, including Camo and the male military official in charge of questioning him, argue vehemently against this, and even Klaus himself makes no case for his early release (he doesn't protest it, but he doesn't plead for it either), but when he agrees to continue providing information, his prison sentence is commuted, and he's released several years early, into the custody of his wife. (The first thing Klaus does after exiting the prison is to embrace Emma and his sons for a few moments; they all leave together without saying a word.) The Allies secure a small cottage for them and they move in, Emma taking a job to support them as Klaus is unable to work; additionally, he decides to rarely leave the house, as the German citizens recognize him and often react with anger and hostility--he doesn't want to bring such treatment down on his family, so determines that keeping himself away out of sight is the one thing he can do to protect them. Emma is saddened by this, but can't persuade him otherwise. It isn't an ideal situation, but, as Klaus reasons, at least they're all together again, that's what counts.

There may be more to Klaus's story--I've toyed with the idea of him moving out to the country similar to Himmel, and living a relatively peaceful life there--BUT I'm uncomfortable with the thought of it looking like I'm letting him off too easily. Yes, I do feel his "conversion" is sincere, and yes, I have plenty of other Nazi characters who meet suitably unpleasant ends, but still, considering the scope of Klaus's crimes, I'm really undecided on this one. Maybe his fate is to remain in a prison of his own making; that seems rather ironically suitable.

I do think that eventually Himmel reaches out to him though, and then Wolfstein--it's kind of awkward, considering:

Emma, answering the door cautiously: "May I help you...?"

Wolfstein, holding a couple of boxes: "I'd like to speak with Herr Klaus, bitte? I was told he lives here...?"

Emma: "Who's calling?"

Wolfstein: "Wolfstein, Jakob Wolfstein."

Emma: "Hold on, bitte." (goes inside)

Klaus: "Who is it?"

Emma: "A man to visit you, he says his name is Jakob Wolfstein?"

Klaus: "I don't know this name."

Emma, returning to the door: "I'm sorry, my husband doesn't remember you."

Wolfstein, a bit confused, then thinking of something: "Oh...wait a moment." (looks around, holds out the boxes) "Could you?" (Emma takes the boxes and Wolfstein unbuttons and rolls up his left sleeve to show his arm; Emma lets out a small gasp)

Emma, reading the number then giving back the boxes: "Hold on a moment, bitte." (goes back inside)

Klaus: "He's still here?"

Emma, anxious: "He...has a tattoo on his arm." (recites the number)

Klaus, looking up in the air a moment, then widening his eyes: "Let him in."

(Emma returns to the door, gestures for Wolfstein to enter; Klaus rolls out to meet him in his wheelchair)

Klaus: "You fixed my sleeve."

Wolfstein: "You remember that?"

Klaus: "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name or your face...what's your name again?"

Wolfstein: "Wolfstein, Jakob Wolfstein."

Klaus, looking up in the air: "Jakob Wolfstein." (looking at Wolfstein again, perplexed) "Why are you here...?"

Turns out Wolfstein is there to check in on him, same as he did with Himmel, as Himmel--who'd run into Klaus not long before while he was briefly hospitalized--expressed concern about his wellbeing. Wolfstein mentions how Klaus was once kind to him, offering him privileges, to which Klaus, always painfully honest, protests, "That wasn't a kindness, was just a quid pro quo." Wolfstein doesn't care. They talk a bit to catch up (Wolfstein mentions he's friends with Himmel, and his sister is involved with the former SS officer--a concept Klaus still finds surprising) before he offers the first box; Klaus gingerly opens it (like Himmel, he feels very uncomfortable receiving gifts), then laughs a little--it's a Julleuchter, which he gives to Emma to put on the mantel, saying, "He always made the best Julleuchter." Wolfstein promises to check on them again though Klaus can't figure out why he wants to, and Wolfstein leaves the second box with them before departing. Once he's gone, the Klauses open the package and curiously peer within. It's a box of Jewish pastries.

[Konstantin Klaus 2022 [‎Friday, ‎September ‎23, ‎2022, ‏‎4:00:14 AM]]

#artists on tumblr #ibisPaint x #SketchDaily #original characters

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years

Text

Being Oikawa's Little Sister and Iwa's crush

😡 Oikawa Is Mean To You 😡

Oikawa 'the jerk' Toru featuring Seijoh x fem! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Oikawa being mean

AN: This is an Anon request

You want to punch him Yn?

I have no problems fighting men 😒

Seriously tho, I think you've suffered enough being the baby sister of the infamous Toru Oikawa 🙌🏻

Did you guys hear that? The gates of heaven opening, the birds singing and the sun shining 🥰

Yeah me neither 🙃

Oh well, back to your life plight

Being the sister of Toru had its pros and cons

The cons vastly outweighing the pros but nevertheless

It's not like you could help who you are biologically related to YN so you just have to deal

You played many different rolls as Oikawa's sister including (but not limited to) bodyguard, warden, comforter, and PR Manager

Seriously the amount of times you had to tell his fan girls he already left for the day just so he could escape the bathroom alive 🙄

YN's out here doing God's work

The one good thing is that your work never went unnoticed 🥰

Well by Toru it did but we aren't talking about him rn

Because Iwaizumi Hajime, 18, Wing-spiker/Seijoh Ace has our FULL attention 😏

This sweet angel istg-

He is so smitten with you YN and yet you haven't noticed

Or maybe it's because you never through you'd grab the attention of THE Iwaizumi

Probably too busy running errands for Oikawa 😒

Anyways, Iwa has had a crush on you for literal years

Like since him and Oiks became besties!

You use to follow them, trying to play volleyball

Iwa would often ignore you, too worried he'd mess up and say something stupid ☹️

But Oikawa (always saying something stupid) told you to just bug off

The amount of times you told your mom and Toru got in trouble 🤣

If that didn't solidify Iwa's feelings for you, I don't know what did

Of course, Oikawa knew of Iwa's crush on you 🙄

Mans used it at every turn to save his ass

"Ah ah Iwa-chan, would YN-chan want you to cause her brother more grief?"- Oikawa would say just as Iwa was about to pelt him with a volleyball

Makki, Mattsun, Kunimi, Yahaba, Kyotani, Watari and Kindaichi 👉🏻 I'm sure YN will forgive Iwa 😐

Oikawa 👉🏻😱 THE SLANDER

Iwaizumi 👉🏻 🧑🏻💥 🏐

Everything was going right in the world, until it wasn't 🙃

Because that's what we do here

It was a particularly rough day, Seijoh had just lost to Shiratorizawa 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 and everyone was in a mood

Especially Oikawa

Please when Oikawa is in a mood, stay clear 😒

Unfortunately you are too much of a sweet angel to do this

Thinking you can cheer the boys up during the practice is what we do 🥰

You arrived in the gym, seeing the boys setting up

Makki and Mattsun greet you in their normal way, probably with head pats 😍

Kyotani waves at you and you wave back

Kunimi and you text constantly so no need for a physical exchange of words YN ✋🏻

You see Iwaizumi and smile at him, watching him blush and return a goofy smile in return 🥺

Please he's got it SO bad for our bby YN

Then you lay eyes on the demonic creature that is your brother

He's practically boiling with rage at this point, probably muttering about how much he hates Ushijima

"If you would have just come to Shiratorizawa... blah blah blah" he says repeatedly

"Hey bro, what's up-" you say coming up next to him

Toru looks at you then looks away, completely ignoring you

RUDE

But we will forgive him, so you try again...

"Toru, hey I came to help you guys today. What would you like me to do?" You said, perky and happy, trying to change the mood from glum to fun

Toru ignores you yet again, as you figure out your next course of action

At this point all of Seijoh is watching, waiting to see what's gonna happen

"Come on Toru-" "YN WILL UOU PLEASE JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!"

You snap back at your brother's shouting, eyes widening

"CANT YOU SEE NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE PARADING AROUND THE GYM YN! CANT YOU GET THAT THROUGH YOUR TINY HEAD OR IS YOUR BRAIN TO STUPOD TO COMPREHEND THAT WE DONT WANT YOU HERE!"- Toru yells, heaving as you back away

"ENOUGH"- Iwaizumi shouts, running towards you and Toru

Your eyes burn with tears as you back up, trying not to let the damn break

"YN hey-" Makki says as him and Mattsun approach

You and Toru look at each other, tears now spilling down your eyes

The realization of his words hit him

"YN, I'm sorry- I-"

"TORU OIKAWA, FUCK YOU"- you scream as you turn, running out of the gym

Kyotani gets up, running after you with Yahaba and Watari

Toru watches as the rest of the gym falls silent

Iwaizumi is PISSED

Like seriously PISSED

Like it's death con level P I S S E D

He's balling his fists up, steam coming off of him

It's so bad that Makki and Mattsun back up

"Kunimi, Kindaichi you guys should probably leave-" Mattsun says as Kunimi and Kindaichi run 🏃‍♂️ towards the gym doors

"Iwa, I know I fucked up ok, I- I'll go and apologize right now"- Toru says as Iwaizumi reaches for a ball, gripping it hard

"Oikawa you better pray Kyotani can talk her down or I swear to GOD you won't be leaving this gym ALIVE"- Iwaizumi growls

Outside of the gym, you sink to the floor, crying as the words run through your head

You and Toru had fought may times but never had it hurt this bad

He had said many mean things to you in the past but saying those things and in front of the whole team, how embarrassing 🥺

You felt someone slide down besides you as you looked to see Kyotani and Yahaba along with Watari surrounding you

"I'm not going to forgive him" you said, wiping your tears

"Nah we don't expect you too"- Yahaba said

"We were just checking on you kid"- Kyotani said as you smile a little, you're friends making your situation a little lighter

"Besides Iwaizumi has probably already murdered him and Makki and Mattsun are trying to hide the body" Watari added, making you belt out a laugh 🤣

"Come back with us, don't let him get to you" Kyotani says as you nod and stand up

You walk back into the gym and see Kunimi and Kindaichi waiting outside the doors, peeking in 👀

"What's wrong?" You said, coming to see

"Iwaizumi is so pissed off YN, seriously I've never seen him so mad"- Kindaichi said

"Yeah, pretty sure Makki and Mattsun are afraid to move because it might set him off"- Kunimi

Inside you see Oikawa on his knees, Iwaizumi standing with a volleyball at the ready, anger radiating off him

"Please Iwa-chan, I didn't mean to hurt YN! Please I know you like them and I really messed up!"- Oikawa pleaded

You stopped, walking into the gym at hearing that Iwaizumi liked you

"Oikawa!! I should kill you for hurting them! You knew how I felt and seeing them cry" Iwaizumi said, his face heating more

You walked up behind Iwaizumi and stopped

"Y-You like me Hajime?" You say, eyes wide and a smile sneaking on your face

"I-uh I- uh" Iwaizumi says, tone instantly shifting from rage to nerves

"Haji" you say, coming closer to him

"YN I LIKE YOU SO MUCH! IVE LIKED YOU SINCE WE WERE KIDS. THE FIRST TIME I EVER SAY UOU I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER"- Iwaizumi said, word vomiting his confession

You stare back at him, smiling before you lean in and kiss his lips lightly

Iwaizumi looks at you and pulls you into a hug, swinging you around the gym

"I like you to Haji" you say before he kisses you again

The team watches in silent, all gushing at how happy you two are 🥺

Until Oikawa ruins it 😐

"This has all gone according to plan" Oikawa said, standing up and dusting himself off

Everyone just looks at him, confused 🤨

"Shut up Oikawa you didn't plan any of this"- Makki says

"Yeah you are just lucky it worked out"- Mattsun added

Iwaizumi is now growling at Toru who jumps back and screams a little 😅

You approach your brother glaring as he lowers his head in shame

"I'm sorry Yn, will you please forgive me" he says

You look at him, then to Hajime who nodds at you

"I'll forgive you on one condition" you say

"Anything yn"

"I get to hit you with a volleyball"- you say, smirking

Oikawa looks up and smiles

"Yeha ok, I'll take that" he says, probably thinking you can't throw with shit

But it's a good thing you've been studying the Iwaizumi Hajime technique all these years yn 🙃

The ball pelts Oikawa right in the back of the head, sending him flying forward as he starts to whine

"YN CHANNNNN" he cries as everyone laughs

"Nice arm sweetheart" Iwaizumi says, skipping your cheek as you smile back at him 🥰

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gladerscake · 2 years

Text

Already Gone

(Gally x Reader)

Requested by anon. This is hurt/comfort at its finest with a sprinkle of good ole’ fluff at the end because heaven knows I can’t live without it lol Enjoy!

Silence. Nothing had ever rung louder than the blaring silence, heavy with dread and utter disbelief. All you could do was stare at the scratchy grey concrete as the loathsome sound of the doors booming to a close still echoed through the glade.

Alby. Minho. The Greenie. All three of them gone… just like that? No, it couldn’t be real, it had to be a nightmare, one you would surely wake up from at any second. There was no way the glade had just lost its leader, the Keeper of the Runners and the newbie - all in one go.

So why weren’t you waking up?

You couldn’t remember how you had managed to drag your feet away from the walls and make it to one of the benches not far from Frypan’s shack. Everything around you felt like a blur, static coursing through the air and numbing your senses.

It was already dark and still eerily quiet. Dinner time was undeniably cheerless and glum tonight, only the faint sounds of an occasional mutter or a clink of a fork just barely reaching your ears.

The glade was in shock. No one had been lost to the Maze in a very long time. In the two years that you’ve been there, you hadn’t seen it happen once, only heard stories about a dark time that haunted the memories of the ones that had been there the longest. What the hell was happening now? Just yesterday you had to say goodbye to Ben in the most gruesome circumstances imaginable. And today you were down by three more? It seemed surreal. Even though it had happened right before your very eyes, your mind couldn’t wrap around it.

Your jaw clenched, tension reverberating through your body as you shakily stood up, feeling the overpowering need to distance yourself from everything and everyone. Your limbs felt heavy, like your veins were pumping liquid iron instead of blood, as you trudged over to a desolate log, away from the others, away from the hopeless and somber whispers.

Tears were beginning to sting your eyes as your hands gripped at the rough wood beneath your palms, the scabrous ridges digging into your soft skin.

Alby was your friend, so was Minho… they both had been. You still remembered your first day in the glade, Alby’s kind gaze and comforting tone as he helped you settle in and assured you that you were safe around him, just as you were around everyone else. He had always been the one everyone knew they could turn to for support or any kind of help. He’d been the best leader anyone could have asked for. He’d been there from the start, laid foundation to making the glade into what it was now, and he’d done a great shucking job. You could hardly imagine the place without Alby, he seemed like such an integral part of it.

And Minho… though you had only ever had the chance to talk to him after work hours, his contagious smile, easy-going manner and witty sense of humor had quickly turned him into one of people you’d say you were closest to. Whenever you’d feel particularly beat after a hard day, he’d always have a joke to elevate the mood and make you believe that no matter what, tomorrow would be better.

The greenie… Thomas… though you had only known him for a couple of days, he seemed like a decent guy, even if a little too curious for his own good. What he had done, running into the maze like that, was nothing short of mad. It was practically suicide and your heart clenched at the thought of his journey ending when it had just barely begun.

A sudden weight lowering down next to you pulled you out of your spiral of anguished thoughts as you looked over to the side, attempting to blink back your misery.

Your red-rimmed eyes were met by Gally’s heavy and dreary gaze as he moved closer to you, his insides churning at the sight of his girl so utterly distraught and grief-stricken.

“How are you holding up?”

Though it did seem like a silly question to ask, all things considered, it was decidedly better than “You okay?”. Of course you weren’t okay - no one was at the moment.

Your swallowed a sob as you looked up into your boyfriend’s caring eyes, knowing he was looking for a way to bring you comfort, yet struggling to find one.

“I-I can’t believe they’re gone…” Your trembling voice uttered, another salty tear escaping the corner of your eye and rolling down your cheek. You didn’t want to break down, wanted to spare Gally the ache of watching you quake and sob without being able to help you, so you tried to keep it together as much as you could.

Gally’s gaze lowered, his muscular arm lifting to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into the warmth of his hold as you bit the inside of your cheek, leaning into him and hiding your face in his broad chest. Quiet sniffles escaped you as he rubbed your back up and down in what he hoped was a soothing motion.

He didn’t know what to say. Truly, he didn’t. A part of him wanted to tell you that there was still a chance of Alby, Minho and the greenie making it back to the glade, but he wasn’t sure it would be right to give you false hope. No one has ever survived a night in the maze - that was the harsh reality. And there was nothing to suggest that this time would be different. Still, Gally felt like he had to say something. Even if he didn’t believe it himself.

“Maybe they’re not gone yet.” He muttered into your hair, lips pressed to your temple as you held onto him.

Your head lifted, your teary eyes meeting his once more as your chest constricted with another weak sob.

“You really think they could survive out there?”

The very implication felt impossible. The maze promised nothing but death at night, with Grievers lurking around the corners, seeking out the first chance to devour their pray. Plus, from what you had witnessed, Alby was already out and you could only guess what kind of shape Minho was in. As for Thomas… not only was he not a runner and didn’t know anything about the maze, but he had also proven himself to be on the reckless side. If he survived, it’d be a shucking miracle.

Gally exhaled a deep sigh as he looked at you, his warm thumb brushing away your tears in a gentle caress.

“I think we’ll know for sure when the doors open in the morning and not a minute sooner. So until then… there’s still hope.” He replied, trying not to let a single note of doubt falter his tone. Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he might actually attain some of that hope as well, as difficult as it was.

Despite the idea of the boys returning safe and relatively unharmed sounding more like wishful thinking, Gally’s words and deep comforting voice managed to slightly lift the massive weight of grief pushing down on you. A tiny speck of faith found its way into your heart, igniting like a lone match in a dark hallway.

You gave him a weak nod, a resemblance of a small smile touching the corner of your mouth. Gally hugged you tightly to his chest, letting you bury your face in the crook of his neck, your leftover tears dampening his skin.

No matter the awful turn of events that had led to this moment, the fear that seeped through the cracks of the maze walls, you were thankful that you at least had Gally. You had him through everything. He was your rock, your protection, your main source of happiness in this godforsaken place. If anyone had any power to make you feel better, it was him.

The tension pervading your form began fading as you allowed yourself to succumb to the warmth and safety of Gally’s arms. The builder carded his fingers through your hair, his heart thumping against yours as his closeness sheltered you from the horrors of your small and damaged world.

Whatever the next morning would bring, you believed you could handle it, so long as Gally was right there with you. Even if the the pain was only just beginning… you wouldn’t have to face it alone. You would never be alone. That much, Gally would ensure.

Tags: @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @magnoliabloomfield @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @anniemylennox @gallysonegoodlung @joemomma2121 @lattsgocaps @sherbertscarrothead-2 @lullabaesstuff @thesuitkovian @blanknamed @mastersurf @lealup

#the maze runner #tmr gally #gally x reader #gally imagine #my gif #gladers #tmr #gally x fem!reader #gally x you #tmr x reader #gally x y/n #tmr x y/n #gally tmr #tmr imagine #gally fanfic #gally oneshot #gally fluff #will poulter #tmr gally imagine

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daydreaming-in-letters · 2 years

Text

Don't wait up

04/13/2022

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 2,748

Warnings: language, angst, graphic description of a wet, freshly showered Walter, fluff

Summary: It's your anniversary and Walter has stood you up—again. When he finally comes home to apologise, he finds the house empty.

A/N: I can't believe this has been sitting in my WIPs for eight months now. I'm glad my muse finally showed mercy on poor Walter and let me finish this. It's my first time writing for the bear. Hope you like it.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Picture found on Pinterest (cropped)

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

With a sigh he checked the time before he turned off the engine and the headlights died away, leaving him in the dim light of the console. Already past ten. And he had done it again. A soft thud echoed through the cockpit as his head fell back against the head rest and his eyes shut out the world for a moment. He could see them so clearly now, her eyes, sombre from the disappointment, breaking his heart even before he would finally face her rightful wrath.

Although the day had started out rather promisingly. He had been in high spirits when he left the house, happy that this year he wouldn’t screw up again. Already two weeks ago he had made reservations at her favourite restaurant and requested to take half the day off. He had wanted to do everything right, clean up the house, iron the light blue shirt she liked so much on him, buy some champagne, strawberries and vanilla bubble bath for dessert, hell, he had even put candles and rose petals for the bedroom on the shopping list.

After all, he had a lot to make up for. There had been so much work lately, forcing him to leave early in the morning and return home past her bedtime almost every night. Of course, in his job that wasn’t unusual. There were always times when a case would keep him away from her more than he liked, but this time it had been particularly bad. He missed her terribly and he knew that she felt the same, although she never complained. She never would, that’s not who she was, but he could see it in her eyes sometimes or feel it in the way she hugged him tightly when he came to bed, her mind already far away in a dream while her body was still seeking his warmth subconsciously.

And today of all days hadn’t been any different. Something had come up last minute, shattering his meticulous plans. It was always something, he thought. It didn’t even matter what it was, he had let it become more important than her once again and that was inexcusable.

With a scowl, he glared down at the paper bag and the bunch of half-wilted red roses next to him. What a joke. She had probably eaten by now anyway and in case she had not, sitting down with him for a romantic self-made dinner was most likely the last thing she wanted to do tonight. But it was the least he could do, to just try, to apologise and hope for her forgiveness, if only because he didn’t know what he would do if she wouldn’t grant him her pardon.

But as he marched over to the front door, his measly offerings clutched to his side, he knew there wasn’t much hope left. The windows were pitch black, showing no signs of life whatsoever and when he stepped inside, he was greeted with nothing but glum silence.

“Y/N?” he asked into the darkness, tentatively. He hadn’t expected an answer and yet his chest constricted painfully for a moment. Setting down the bag on the kitchen island carefully, he huffed at the tattered flowers in his hand before he ascended the stairs, not prepared in the least to deal with the bitter resentment in her eyes.

“Y/N?”

Softly his knuckles pressed against the white wood, as if they were afraid to startle a sleeping fury. But again, there was no answer, giving him the chance to take one last deep breath before he stepped into the bedroom.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” he babbled while he crossed the room blindly. “I know I fucked up again, but—“ He halted instantly as the dull light of his bedside lamp illuminated the room, revealing that he had in fact been talking to himself. “Honey?” his voice bellowed through the room, loud enough that she would have heard him in the last corner of the house, but it stayed silent. He already knew that it was for nothing when he hurried into the corridor to roar her name again. His stomach twisted violently, sending a wave of panic through him that made his head spin when he finally reached for his phone.

A message. How could he not have seen that any sooner? Eyebrows knit together tightly, the first drops of sweat began to bead on his forehead as the three words slowly sank in.

DON’T WAIT UP

No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

“Fuck!” he hollered into the emptiness of their home, an emptiness that began to seep under his skin as well, taking hold of him bit by bit as his back slumped into the wall and he slid down onto the floor.

Happy fucking anniversary.

Softly the terry cloth rubbed along his impressive thighs, the vibration of his steps sending some drops of water flying from his wet curls onto his bare shoulders from where they set out to cascade down his back and front, some of them catching in his lush chest hair to sparkle in the warm light of the empty bedroom. He would call her again, probably just another fruitless attempt like the other ten times he had tried to reach her before finally deciding to take a shower.

If only he knew she was someplace safe. He was almost sure that she was, but this last bit of uncertainty kept nagging in the back of his head, making his heart heavy and his stomach turn every time he imagined what might happen to her if she wasn’t. Fucking job. It served him right though, this torture. Maybe it was exactly what he needed to finally wake up—if only it wasn’t too late already.

With a determined motion, his hand set out to grab his phone from the messy pile of clothes he had left on the bed, his knuckles brushing a piece of white paper in the process. A piece of paper that definitely hadn’t been there when he had vanished into the bathroom a few minutes ago.

His phone thudding back onto the bed, he scooped up the small, folded sheet with a pair of shaky hands. Carefully his fingers unfurled the note, the paper trembling violently between them, making it almost impossible to read the black letters.

MEET ME IN THE TRUCK IN 10. DON’T BE LATE—AGAIN…

He couldn’t remember an occasion at which he had gotten dressed faster than now. Skipping the underwear, he ripped a pair of khaki shorts and a plain black T-shirt out of the wardrobe before he hastily set out to dry his hair off with the towel that had sat on his hips mere seconds ago.

His heart was beating at full speed when he finally made it to the head of the stairs, flying down the carpeted wood at a reckless pace, only one thought on his mind. He had almost made it to the door when another thought suddenly pushed aside her image for a moment and he rushed back into the kitchen.

It was only when he laid eyes on the car at last, the mild summer air welcoming him outside, that he remembered to breathe. The engine was already running, headlights on, making it impossible for him to catch sight of her familiar form in the driver’s seat. Only a few steps, one last sprint, separated him from her, a distance so small and yet she was as far away as never before.

Legs heavy as lead, he fought his way over to her, his hope that he hadn’t lost her for good yet sinking with every step he took towards the black vehicle. He needed to see her, needed to look into her eyes to know if there was reason for optimism and it was this need that made him muster the courage to close his fingers around the handle and pull.

A need, he realised, that wouldn’t be satisfied anytime soon as she just kept staring out front, not caring in the least that he had just yanked open the door, out of breath and desperate to feel her eyes on him.

“Get in.”

The tone of her voice, barely audible above the whirring of the engine, gave him nothing to ease his troubled mind. But even if it didn’t show any anger either, he knew that there was no reason for hope just yet. So he simply obeyed, gliding into the seat beside her silently.

He had expected her to hit the gas as soon as the door had fallen shut behind him, but she didn’t. Patiently he waited, a spark of newfound hope spiralling through him as the thought crossed his mind that she maybe wanted to say something, hesitating to set off until she had found the right words. And it was this tiny fragment of hope that spread his lips into an unsure smile while his arm moved on its own to hold out his pitiful peace offering to her.

And even though it didn’t make her speak, it made her look. Not at him, but at the representation of his regret, and that was good enough for him. Her eyes flicking from one burgundy bud to the next as if she had never seen a bouquet of red roses before allowed him a moment to take in the woman he loved and he couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling that it might be the last time this privilege would ever be granted to him. For a split second, it seemed as if she would reach out to accept his apology, but instead of the flowers, her fingers closed around the gearstick and yanked it into reverse.

She was a good driver, even if she was prone to speed from time to time. Sometimes he would scold her for it, making her laugh it off every time. “It’s not my fault, Walter, you know that. It’s just the way my primal instincts react to this ridiculous amount of horse power.”

But tonight, for the first time, he couldn’t shake off the urge to hold on tight to something as the truck shot through the night and so his fingers firmly shut around the handle beside him. He didn’t let go until her foot finally left the gas and she steered the vehicle off the main road and into the pitch black darkness of a forestry trail. His hands were clammy and he tried drying them off on his shorts without catching her attention, but with every minute they ventured further into the woods, he felt the sweat return.

She still hadn’t said a word since their departure and he couldn’t think of anything sensible to talk about either, not for the life of him. To say that her unusually taciturn state threw him off would have been an absolute understatement, and slowly but surely his body switched into alert mode. He couldn’t help it. It came with the job and had slipped into his DNA after all these years. Of course, he knew that it was ridiculous. She was his sweet honey pie and she would never even think about hurting her Walter Bear, or would she? He had seen people snap and kill for less than a ruined anniversary—or two.

He jolted as the truck came to a sudden halt and risked a quick glance over at his driver. Still, nothing about her gave him a hint what she felt or what all this was about.

“Honey,” he tried, treading lightly, even though his voice was raised to drown out the roaring of the engine. “You’re making me nervous.” Halfway through his sentence she had turned the key and he felt like an idiot for hollering his insecurity into the silence that followed. He tried a meek smile to make up for the volume. “Did you take me here to get rid of me?”

But instead of laughing about his silly remark, not even the tiniest bit, she just opened the door and let the night swallow her.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Throwing the flowers carelessly onto the driver’s seat, he dashed after her. She might have given him a little scare with her strange behaviour, but thinking about her in the forest, at night, on her own, made his heart fall into the depths of his stomach instantly.

A deep sigh escaped his chest when he found her right beside the truck bed, busy rolling up the cover. Probably to get a shovel, his inner detective warned, just to look like an idiot once again when the rim of the truck bed lit up in a bunch of fairy lights as if by magic to reveal a cozy bed of blankets and pillows.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

With a contented sigh, he pulled her closer. She mimicked his movement, tightening her grip on him as well. Her hand had sneaked underneath his T-shirt a good while ago, her fingers lazily raking through his lush chest hair next to the spot where her head lay, right above his heart. He could feel her heartbeat underneath his fingertips as well, strong and steady, and he couldn’t stop a wide grin from forming when he realised that, despite everything he had feared before, it still beat for him. He was sure by now that she had staged her little surprise like this on purpose and he couldn’t blame her. He deserved every last bit of it. And he would take far worse if it meant he wouldn’t lose her.

But now that he held her in the faint light of the starry night sky, all those worries seemed long passed. And however much he tried, he couldn’t remember that he had ever felt luckier than in this exact moment. Well, maybe there was one moment…

“Do you remember our first date?” he mumbled against her silky hair.

“Of course I do. You were so nervous that night. I almost feared you had swallowed your tongue. I mean, you’re usually a man of few words, but that night I was almost sure that you weren’t the right guy for me.”

“I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“I didn’t.” She waited until he began to stir underneath her before she went on. “You did.”

“Me? How?”

Walter watched her head rise from his chest and he was about to protest when her hand abandoned caressing his fur, but then her fingers tenderly brushed aside the stray curl of hair on his forehead and he was appeased.

“Walking me home that night, making sure I got there safely and then you didn't even try to kiss me.”

“But you did.”

He grinned like the Cheshire cat as the memory played out crystal clear in his mind. God, it had been so sexy when she had slowly gotten closer, leaning in ever so slightly until he could feel the heat of her body against his own and there had been no doubt left what she had wanted him to do.

“Yes,” the curve of her lips matched his own now, “and when you finally decided to kiss me back, I knew. Gosh, I had never been kissed like that. So tender but with a touch of passion and possessiveness. And the way you held me in your arms—” He remembered. He had wanted to kiss her so badly, but he had held back, afraid to rush things, and when she had kissed him instead, everything had happened on instinct. He had pressed her to his chest, needing to feel her closer, afraid when he opened his eyes, it would have all been a dream. Walter had known in that moment as well, that he never wanted to hold anyone else from that day on. “Mmmh, nothing could ever compare to that.”

“Nothing?” His eyebrow shot up, intrigued by the challenge he sensed in her words. And with a single shake of her head, the game was on. “Will you at least let me try?”

He was met with no resistance at all when he rolled her onto her back, caging her in underneath his massive body. Instead, her teeth bit down on her lip in a gesture she knew would drive him to the edge of sanity, her fingers eagerly diving into his messy curls as he dipped down with a feral growl to claim her lips with his own.

***

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lilxberry · 3 years

Text

A Moment - Thorin’s Company

Requested By: @quietly-scrolling-through

hi darlin! would it be alright if i requested something for the hobbit? (if not feel free to ignore this lol) something like gandalf introduces the company to a young child who turns out to be a nymph like creature and she has the ability to heal others? just some cute bonding moments or them being protective over her?? ahh idk! i dont request things much so it makes me all frazzled lmao :D

Honestly, I just couldn’t get the nymph child down perfectly. I tried to research them a bit more to create better depth for this but it was completely lost on me. I still had mentioned they were indeed a nymph but I had focused more on their healing abilities and the bonds being created.

I knew I was being ambiguous when I had told you I would finally finish and post this today and I’m so happy I actually was able to do so. I’m so sorry that it had taken so long and I’m so sorry if this isn’t anything like you wanted at all.

Warnings: Mentions of death. Mentions of violence. Mentions of blood and injuries. Mentions of thievery. Fluff. Blink and you’ll miss it angst. Terrible writing? Idek lmao let me know if I should add anymore warnings, please.

Words: 12,322 (THATS A HUGE BITCH :0)

Pairings: None. Thorin’s Company x child reader (platonic)

_______________

The company was utterly shocked when Gandalf presented them a young child to come along their journey, even more so when they had found out said child was that of the nymph race. Of course, they all objected the notion of the young girl joining them on their treacherous quest but once learning of her incredible healing abilities, they became less reluctant.

All of the company had shared a special moment with you, big or small moments in time where they had truly come to accept and love you as their own.

_______________

Bilbo Baggins

The first you had probably connected with was Bilbo.

When the homesick hobbit felt down, you were quick to notice. You had thought hard to find a way to lift his mood, nearly always coming up empty handed.

Then, it hit you. The adult had said he had missed his books!

On one particularly quiet night, Mr. Baggins seemed to appear more glum than usual, causing you to tilt your head as you observe him. His eyes held a distant look within them, and it was as if you had felt his sadness, even from such a distance.

After a few moments longer at watching the sullen hobbit, you turned on your bare heel and shuffled over towards the small knapsack you had with you on this journey and riffled through it, searching for one object in particular.

You made a noise in delight as you finally found it, a book filled with fairy tales and olden stories that your mother had read to you before she had passed. Smiling, you grasped the book with your small, frail hands and then hugged it within your arms as you turned and briskly walked over to Bilbo.

Slowly coming to a stop beside Bilbo, you rocked back and forth on your feet as you waited patiently for him to take notice of your presence.

Only moments later had Bilbos’ eyes travelled over to you. He cleared his throat and straightened his back, putting on a smile that just didn’t quite catch his eye. “Oh. Hello. Hummm, what can I do for you?”

You gently hold out the book towards him, giving him a small smile. “Here. Read.”

His eyes darted between you and the book quickly multiple times before finally settling on to you and sending you the most genuine of smiles he had smiled ever since he had joined the company. He took a hold of the book with a delicate touch and brought it closer towards himself, looking over the cover and spine, the bindings of the pages, the neat scrawl within the first few pages.

“Thank you, Y/N. This, this means quite a lot to me.” You nodded in response before beginning to turn away to return near your bedroll and knapsack. Bilbo sweetly called out to you, stopping you in your tracks. “Would you like to join me in reading some?”

A bright, wide grin overtook your face as you nodded enthusiastically. He chuckled at your excitement and patted beside him on the log, inviting you to sit beside him. You speedily made your way back over towards Bilbo and jumped up on to the temporary wooden seat, legs just coming up too short of reaching the floor.

Bilbo softly chuckled once more as he turns his attention towards the book rested atop his lap, delicately opening the front cover and turning to the first page of the first of many tales.

You shuffled closer to be able to peer over at the text and Bilbo smiled. Once cheeking to see if you were situated, he began to read softly, loud enough for the both of you to still enjoy the story but quiet enough to leave the others undisturbed.

Now, every time the company had set up camp, you and Bilbo would read one story from the hefty book together each time, giving Bilbo something, he dearly missed from the Shire and allowing for you to have tales read to you once more.

_______________

Dori & Ori

Two of the three brothers had connected with you as a joint.

It had come in the form of comfort once more, more so for you.

It appeared the seemingly the two youngest of the group had both simultaneously come down with a terrible case of the sniffles. You and Ori were in a constant state of shivering and although your body temperatures were skyrocketed, you both felt incredibly cold.

Of course, a nymph, even one that possesses healing abilities, are not immune to illness. It usually occurs within the younger portion of your people so; it was only a matter of time that you would succumb to days of ill health.

The illness you had contracted effected your healing greatly, rendering you useless to those around you, even Ori who seemed to have needed your powers most at that current time.

Dori took it upon himself to watch over his younger brother, which wasn’t unusual. He would make sure that Ori drank whatever herbal tea he and Oin had decided would work best, coddle him in an extra blanket that he had just so happened to have on hand. Hell, he made sure that he slept near enough double the usual amount.

Of course, you were being looked after too, almost twice the amount as they were with Ori. You may have not bonded with many at this point, they still cared for you. Not only were you a girl, but you were also a child.

It was the fourth day of being camped up due to how unwell you and Ori were, and Oin was running low on herbs with healing properties. You had heard the hushed whispers of it, claiming they didn’t have enough for both you and the young dwarf, then them ultimately deciding that you should have it over Ori.

Dori and Oin had gone to tell Ori of their decision, even if Dori hadn’t wanted to agree with it so easily. Although crestfallen, Oris’ face held understanding. You watched silently, feeling guilty, as Dori and Oin sighed, standing to collect the last of whatever concoction they could create to help heal you both.

Oin had slowly come towards you and handed over the small mug-like cup to you. He sternly instructed you that you must drink it all before hobbling away to join some of the others in conversation.

You looked down into the cup, staring into the deep red liquid with whisps of steam coming from it before glancing at Ori to the side of you. He sniffled loudly as he kept his focus forward and you could see that his eyelids were becoming heavier by the moment.

Looking back down towards the liquified berries and such, you contemplated only for a moment before weakly standing. Your legs wobbled as your knees buckled slightly and feeling of light-headedness flashed quickly through you. Slowly ambling towards the young dwarf, you felt eyes on you as you crossed the short distance.

You lowered yourself to sit beside Ori carefully and his eyes shot open when he had felt you sit beside him. You held the cup out before his face, causing him to become cross-eyed for a moment before his hazy brain began to function again and take in what’s in front of him.

He turned his gaze towards you and seen the kind smile that were across your lips. He slowly clasped his hands around the cup, careful to not spill any due to his arms feeling heavy and weak. You pulled your own hands away once you felt Ori had a good enough grasp of the cup and opted to explain what exactly you were doing.

“Here. Drink.” Your voice was slightly lower in pitch due to its slight croakiness from the sore throat that occurred. He shook his head, only the beginning of his protests but before he could utter a sound, you spoke once more. “It’s okay. I’m beginning to feel better. I do not need it as much as you.”

All in all, you weren’t entirely telling him falsities. You had begun to feel better earlier that day. Obviously, you were nowhere near being in tip-top shape, but your fever had begun to slightly calm down, you didn’t need Oin to check, you could feel it yourself.

“Thank you,” he roughly squeaked out, his gaze down casted as his cheeks heated up further. He was appreciative of your kindness and care towards him, yet embarrassed that and young child had looked after him the way a mother would look after her offspring.

You simply smiled in response before twisting your body to rest against the tree trunk he leaned against himself. Once comfortable, you nestled into yourself and blanket beside Ori, slowly drinking the last of the herbal tea available.

Your own eyes grew heavy and soon, slid closed, gentle puffs of breath passing your lips.

A couple hours passed When you shifted slightly in your sleep, peering a tired, sleepy eye open. Then, you noticed that there was a cool cloth atop your forehead as you were wrapped within a second blanket.

Searching your surroundings, you noticed Dori sat nearby, watching over you and a sleeping Ori and suddenly, it clicked. It was his way of showing his gratitude to you for helping Ori. You caught Doris’ gaze and he quietly shuffled over towards you, quickly checking the cloth on your head before tucking the blankets tighter around you, making sure you were snug and warm.

Dori smiled down towards your drowsy yet confused expression before quietly whispering to you. “Thank you, for what you did for Ori, lass. Thank you for looking after my brother.” He patted down your slightly sweaty hair comfortingly before standing and going back to his original position once more.

Your eyes began to droop once more and before you knew it, you once again fallen asleep, this time, a small smile present and a warm, comforting feeling inside your chest.

_______________

Bofur

This specific dwarf had taken notice of your saddened whimpers and broken whispers during your sleep one night.

It had been rare for you to have nightmares of your lack of home or your parents’ demise. When they had resurfaced and plagued your dreams, you dearly missed the comfort of your childhood doll your mother had made. You would tightly grasp it against your chest whenever you were ill or afraid.

But it had been lost, along with your home many moons before your adventure with this strange mix of company had begun their quest.

Bofur had been on first watch that night, smoking his pipe as he watched the surrounding woods. Everyone had been fast asleep, even Thorin, which was a rare sight to behold. As he calmly and quietly surveyed the tree line, a soft whimper was heard, then another, then a quiet “No, please. Stop,” as you slightly shifted within your bedroll.

Bofur watched you with knitted eyebrows and a curious gaze, uncertain whether he should wake you and ensure you were alright. After hearing another whimper release from your small form, he nodded his head in resolute before standing from his perch atop a large rock and moved as silently as he could from his post to where you lay.

He softly shook your shoulder as he gently called your name numerous times, finally stopping when you began to stir, although keeping his hand comfortingly placed upon your shoulder.

“Are you alright, lass?” His voice laced with concern.

You had remained silent until a tiny sniffle sounded from you. You lowered your gaze to the floor as you shook your head timidly. Bofur softened.

The dwarf with the funny hat lowered himself to sit beside you, knees bent, and arms rested on top of them. “Nightmares?” he inquired. You had nodded to his question, still opting to stay silent and he nodded in return with understanding.

In that moment, although he and his fellow companions had been plagued by horrid images during sleep, he reminded himself that you were, in fact, still a child. A small, frightened child who had been brought along on a terrifying journey with no family and no true comfort.

Bofur had quickly decided that, as the toy maker that he is, to create something for you to aid you with resting more peacefully and something to comfort you, to give your strength during times when you are scared.

And so, throughout the next few weeks, Bofur had set about creating a small doll for yourself. He had used torn material from his own jacket, a small cut strap of leather from on of the ponies’ saddles, five buttons from five separate members and a long string of material unravelled from Bomburs’ left trouser leg, leaving him with one calve more exposed than the other.

All there was left to do for the doll to be completed was for it to be stuffed with a soft, sustainable filling and to be sewn with his brothers’ trouser yarn.

Bofur was struggling to find something to stuff the doll with, leaving it a mess of fabric and materials. But it appeared that luck was on their side.

Beorn had agreed to allow the company a longer stay before helping them traverse through the large, open area and reach the boarder of the black forest of Mirkwood. Beorn being the kind, sweet skin changer that his is, in your eyes, he had given you his room and had opted to sleep elsewhere when not patrolling the area to protect yourself and the others from the orcs.

That meant a comfortable mattress below you, warm covers over you to keep you nice and snuggly, and two soft pillows to rest your head atop.

Bofur had noticed that the large male had indeed a small stock of those things, including the cushioned pillows. Bofur knew that whatever was inside those pillows would be the perfect stuffing for his doll for you, but it was all down to getting Beorn to agree and allow him to take some of the stuffing which may pose as a challenge, considering the skin changer had voiced his hate towards the dwarven race, even if he is aiding their cause and showing hospitality.

The dwarf with the funny hat had a theory though. Clearly Beorn has a soft spot for the young one travelling with them. Mahal, maybe you’re truly the only reason he is being so helpful. So, Bofur had decided that if he were to approach the towering Beorn, he would simply explain that it was entirely for your benefit.

Bofur had spent hours working up the nerve to even approach the man who changes into a beast, and now he heads towards him on slightly shaky legs, slowly wobbling his way towards him. As he reaches his large frame, Bofur stands off to his side awkwardly and clears his throat, gaining the skin changers’ attention.

“What is it, dwarf?” he speaks in his usual gruff voice, only making Bofur more nervous.

“W-w-well, y-you see, I was w-wondering if I could possibly use one of your p-pillows,” Bofur stutters out, wringing his hands nervously, eyes flittering everywhere. As he notices Beorn open his mouth to reply, most likely to reject his request, he quickly adds on. “I-it’s for Y/N. The child.”

Beorn recloses his mouth and quirks his eyebrow up for him to continue, which Bofur quickly does.

“I was hoping to use the soft inside of it for a dolls stuffing. I-I thought it would lift her spirits during our journey,” Bofur explained.

Beorn mulled over the dwarfs’ words for a few moments, silence engulfing them both, Bofur growing nervous by the lack of response. Just as Bofur was about to lose his mind, Beorn gave a curt nod to signify that he could indeed destroy one of his pillows.

Bofur flashed him a miniscule yet grateful smile before scurrying off and getting his hands on one of them.

As they all slept, Bofur decided that he would volunteer to take watch, even within the safety of Beorns’ home the dwarves were still quite wary and cautious. As he stayed awake into the early hours, he painstakingly sewed together the doll, leaving enough of a gap to push the stuffing inside the handcrafted body.

By morning, a shredded pillowcase with near to none no traces of stuffing lay haphazardly beside Bofur, and a small doll was gently hidden away within his pack as soft snores left his body, his hat fallen over his eyes, head lolled back which was surely to leave a kink in his neck.

An hour after breakfast and you all began to prepare to leave, Beorn being gracious enough to lend you his ponies along with a horse for Gandalf.

Bofur spotted you off to the side, ensuring everything you deemed of value, whether personal or not, was accounted for, with your small eyebrows furrowed and tongue peeking past your lips in concentration.

The dwarf smiled and pulled the doll out from his own pack and discreetly hid it with his body from the sight of the others. He shuffled over nervously, now afraid that you wouldn’t like his gift. Bofur adjusted his hat and cleared his throat softly before standing in front of you, your eyes still trained on your items before you.

“Y/N,” he called gently. He grasped your attention, and you turned your gaze up towards him, waiting patiently for him to continue, which he did so.

He kneeled down closer to your height before speaking in a gentler tone when addressing you. “How are you this morning? Did you sleep well, young lass?” You smiled and nodded, and he pressed on. “That’s good. I-I couldn’t help but notice that- do you happen to have bad dreams?”

You frowned but once again nodded, finding no use in lying to the kind dwarf.

He sent you a comforting smile before speaking once more. “It’s okay lass, I have bad dreams too. Mahal, I think Dwalin might have one on occasions.” At this, you both pointedly look towards the bald, tattooed dwarf and silently chuckle together when you see the towering dwarf struggle to scratch an itch between his shoulder blades.

Bofur turned to face you once more before slowly revealing the doll that he had kept hidden from your sight. “I thought maybe, you could use some company during the night when you have those bad dreams. Many believe the toys of children are their protectors from dark and evil things, and they bring great comfort to those who are scared.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of the doll within his large hand, and you smiled. You face shone with utter happiness and child-like wonderment at the messily sewn thing. To others, it seemed a mess of fabric that appeared haphazardly sewn together. To you though, it was now one of the most precious things you own.

Taking the doll with a gentle hold from his outstretched hand, you brought it closer to your face to closer inspect it. At first touch, you could feel the soft stuffing within, and the different fabrics used to create the very thing.

Your eyes welled up with tears and you turned your gaze back towards Bofur, who began to look very worried and very panicked.

“Oh dear, you don’t like it. I-I can change it or m-make a new one if you’d li-“ You quickly cut off his incessant rambling when you ramped your tiny arms around his neck tightly.

“Thank you,” you sniffled and buried your face into his shoulder. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around you in a caring embrace, one a father would have for his child. He sighed, now content knowing you indeed like the doll he had spent making just to bring you some peace during their travels.

_______________

Fíli & Kíli

The young princes brought now only the weapons to such a quest, but a liveliness and an entertaining feel.

Long travels during the day can cause a dampen on the moods of the companies’ members, including yourself. Although, it quickly became clear that Fíli and Kíli could often change the atmosphere surrounding each dwarf, hobbit, wizard, and young nymph.

Sitting around a roaring fire after finally settling down for the night were a group of glum fellows, grumpy from the exhausting amount of walking they had just partaken in. Unsurprisingly, you had been perched quietly atop your bedroll for the night, staring into the dancing yellows and ambers of the fire. You felt peaceful, even with your slight sour mood.

That was until two young princes joined you at either side.

The elder prince sat to on your right while Kíli took to sitting on your left, your body slightly smushed between the two.

“Why are you looking so blue, mouse?” Kíli asked. Both of Thorins’ nephews had taken to calling you the name of the small woodland creature, for your size and how your voice seemed to sound like tiny squeaks, according to them.

Your gaze alternated between the two, head tilted backwards to peers at their faces. Your expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity alike, eyebrows slightly furrowed, prompting them to elaborate, which they did so without further coercion.

“You look a little down, like you need cheering up,” Fíli spoke.

“Yeah, maybe needing a distraction from your,” Kíli tailed off as he tapped your forehead lightly with his index finger. “Thoughts,” he finished.

Simply shrugging in response, you cast your eyes back towards the fire. The brothers shared a look before the corners of their mouths quirked up with mischief in unison.

You heard shuffling either side of you and a cool breeze brush along your arms, meaning the two dwarven princes had moved away from your sitting form, but you had barely paid much mind to their departure. Only when you felt a moist, goop-y substance hit your back with a resounding ‘slap’ did you finally decide to pay them any sort of attention.

Turning to look behind you, you notice the two grinning widely, almost struggling to keep in laughter. Your eyes trailed down to their hands which were covered in mud, which seemed to be what had hit your back.

The camp had fallen silent the moment they heard the wet sounding contact of the mud to your body, now all quietly watching in anticipation of what will unfold. With your head turned towards Fíli and Kíli, the others failed to notice the small quirk in your lip, displaying your own devilish smirk.

Standing slowly, you collect as much of the offending mud from your back before quickly launching it in the direction of the two and scattering quickly, speedily searching for more mud to weaponize.

The dwarven princes had chuckled and collected more mud before chasing after your frantically searching form. From then onward ensued a war of mud between the brothers and yourself. You had even somehow roped poor young Ori into the ordeal as well.

The remaining members of the company spectated in amusement, some chuckling, some encouraging the antics, some even giving helpful tactics to yourself and Ori to beat the nephews of Thorin. Even Thorin himself had cracked the smallest of smiles, enjoying seeing his sisters’ sons have a moment of fun and being so carefree.

Three quarters of an hour later, you all had become tired, heaving deep breaths and faces flushed from all the physical activity at such a late hour. Another fifteen minutes passed, and majority of the company had found themselves within their bedrolls.

Fíli, Kíli, Ori, and yourself were fast asleep, more dirt coating your than it had from the day of long, perilous walking. Your small cheek was smeared with mud, but a small smile was seemingly etched on to your face permanently.

The princes had not only raised your own spirits, but that of all the company. Even Dwalin who had been on watch first that night had seemed less stoic than his usual self.

_______________

Bombur & Bifur

Unsurprisingly, you had bonded with the larger of the dwarfs, Bombur, over food. More specifically, his cooking. A wonderful shock though, would be that of bonding over that exact same topic with the Khuzdul-only speaking cousin of the forementioned, Bifur.

Once again, it was during a time of the company settling down and setting up camp for the night after a long day of trekking and a constant need of awareness of your surroundings. Many were surrounding the fire that had just recently been started, ready to give warmth to the company and heat up food to prepare it for consumption.

Looking towards Bombur, you had noticed his lack of assistance that night, most of the company wanting to just relax this time round, all most likely feeling the effects of the journey they happened to be partaking in.

With a tilt of your small head atop your shoulders, you took a small moment of contemplation to decide whether to offer your help to the dwarf. You easily concluded that you would.

Hopping off of the log you had been perched atop of you lightly treaded over towards Bombur, who had just sat down, ready to prep the vegetables whilst waiting for Bifur to return from his quick evening hunt with meat.

Without a word, you sat beside him whilst grasping a hold of a small knife that was suitable for peeling and chopping vegetables. He looked over towards you with eyes slightly widened, panicked. Bombur certainly didn’t want you to harm yourself with the small, sharp object.

You looked up towards him, ignoring his manic, worried state and nodded your head over towards the carrots that laid along the opposite side of him. With uncertainty coursing through him, he grasps a carrot tightly and held it out towards you.

Bombur had held on to it so tightly that it was quite obvious dwarf was reluctant to hand it over. You had pried it out of his hand whilst trying to supress your smile, not only finding Bomburs’ worrisome amusing, but endearing.

Slowly and with a steady, small hand, you began to gently peel the carrot thinly, ensuring you didn’t remove what was unnecessary. Spotting him continue to watch you like a hawk out the corner of your eye, you faced him as you paused the movements of your hands and nodded down towards his own knife and carrot that are held limply within his own digits. He cleared his throat before turning his attention back to the task at hand, beginning to peel his own.

The two of you sat idly beside each other, peeling, and chopping carrots, turnips, swede, parsnips, potatoes, and onions, adding them to the boiling pot of water that rested atop the fire, ready for meat to be added to create a beautiful stew.

As the final pieces of vegetable was added to the pot simmering over the fire, Bifur emerge passed the tree line, two wild rabbits hand limp from his hand, ready for skinning and such.

Reaching the centre of camp right before the fire, he situated himself on Bomburs’ right, haphazardly throwing down the rabbits in front of his crossed legs. Giving his cousin and yourself a nod of acknowledgement, he begins the process of quickly preparing the rabbit, readying its meat for cooking.

Bifur had made quick work of the first rabbit, now on to the second, expertly removing its pelt. As he dissected the rabbit and separated what was deemed edible from the unconsumable, he had glanced up towards the members using this time to relax. This had caused him to become distracted and as his eyes were focused elsewhere, he nicked himself, blade cutting into his finger, the cut itself not very deep but roughly 10cm in length.

The muttered curses in Khuzdul that fell from his mouth had made both yours and Bomburs’ heads sharply turn towards him. Upon seeing his hand or more so the blood that now drenched it, your eyes widened.

Without a second passing by, you shot up and rounded the dwarf in between you and Bifur to kneel down before him and grasp his injured hand between your own smaller ones. Bifur looked towards you in confusion, much like Bombur beside him, all while you sent a reassuring yet coy smile their way.

Closing your eyes, you enclosed your hand around the small accidentally self-inflicted wound, focusing your energy on the task at hand. A few moments passed by in silence, the cousins watching you intently, trying to decipher what on Middle-Earth you were doing. All had been soon revealed when you removed your hands slowly, revealing Bifurs’ unscathed hand, no incision made by mistake in sight.

The two gawked at Bifurs’ hand as he began to rotate it, inspect it, mouths hanging wide open. Bifur recomposed himself before making eye contact with you and giving a nod in thanks. You simply smiled before moving back towards your previous position beside Bombur whom still seemed quite surprised as turned his attention back to stirring what was within the pot to the best of his abilities. Eventually, Bifur joined in with completing his own task with food prep.

Within 3 hours, the stew was ready to be served. Being as you were the self-appointed assistant to the chef; you had instinctively begun to help with the giving the others their portions. As everyone finally sat down and situated themselves with their food, you carefully made your way over to sit between Bifur and Bombur as they had allowed space between the two, sizeable enough for you to squeeze into.

The two hadn’t seemed bothered by your presence for the second time that night so you all had eaten in silence, enjoying each other’s company and the rare peaceful atmosphere that surrounded you all some nights.

Once everyone had their fill of Bomburs’ meal, each member had given thanks to the dwarf, including yourself. But you had also given thanks to Bifur, the one who provided the meat for the delicious food given.

Bombur had sent a kind smile in response, the skin at the corner of his eyes wrinkling in delight while Bifur on the other hand, had elected to awkwardly pat the top of your head, your hair becoming slightly askew due to the contact with his large hand.

From then on, you had assisted Bombur with cooking on many occasions, silently preparing whatever may be needed for the nights’ meal.

_______________

Nori

Whenever passing through towns and villages along your journey, there was always an opportunity for Noris’ sticky fingers to act up. Whether it be a coin purse, or an item of jewellery. Maybe he even somehow manages to snag a whole silverware set from some poor resident. This particular dwarf sure was sly at times.

His knack for stealing had certainly gotten the company in some peculiar situations that can be viewed as, let’s say, bad.

The first time you had noticed the dwarf slip an unsuspecting humans’ possession into his pocket, you had furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, utterly confused at why he would do so. You had waited until later that day to ask him of what exactly he was doing and why on Middle-Earth he did so.

He explained as if it was the most simple and obvious of things, and even if you hadn’t really understood with how the dwarf had worded his explanation, you knew it was something not many tend to partake in.

You watched Nori do this multiple times when in passing of others, usually ending up with him if the company breaks off into smaller groups to explore wherever they may have found themselves that day. Being so young, you tended to be impressionable like most at a young age, so it was bound that you had picked up the basics of pocketing others’ valuables.

Of course, you had never done so, but you could easily spot when Nori or another does, easily spying the cautious yet quick movements of one’s hand as it reaches into a stranger’s pocket to retrieve something and place it within their own.

Surprisingly, in recent town and village visits, guards had rarely caught the kleptomaniac dwarf in the act. It had happened roughly 3 times in recent weeks. Usually, he could sweet talk his way out of punishment with some made up alibi or an excuse on the spot, or he’d spend the night within a holding cell until the morning.

But this time, you had saved his short behind using the tricks you had picked up from the star-shaped haired Nori.

You were a few steps away from where Nori had attempted to slip a precious sapphire necklace into his pocket undetected. At first, it appeared he had succeeded until the very last moment where guards had caught sight of the jewel before being entirely concealed by the material of his pocket.

The moment Nori had locked eyes with the two guards, he quickly turned on his heel and began to walk the opposite way, coming closer and closer towards you, all whilst trying to act as inconspicuous and natural as the dwarf could manage during his internal panicked state.

The guards had quickly caught up to the dwarf, catching his shoulder and spinning him around to face them. You watched the scene unfold, Nori turning around with tense shoulders and a sheepish smile.

“Hello. I hope you don’t mind but we’d like to ask you a couple of questions,” one guard spoke but his tone was rather intimidating and most unwelcoming. You cringed as you notice Nori about to possibly indulge them with ridiculous conversation that none would consider sane and quite incriminating if the wrong thing is to be spoken.

“I don’t see why not,” Nori asked with a levelled, neutral tone, even as his eyes shifted constantly, showing his nervousness.

Quickly conjuring up a plan to help your fellow adventurer, you set into motion and began to walk towards them, acting nonchalant, as if you weren’t truly paying much attention to the interaction happing before you.

“We’re amusing you’re passing through. Correct?” the guard asked.

“Aye,” Nori simply responded hoping blunt, curt answers will help him quickly get through this altercation.

“Are we also correct in saying you are passing through with those other dwarves that happen to be wandering around these parts?” This time, Nori nodded his head, folding his arms and puffing out his chest as he looks up towards the guards that belong to the race of men, trying desperately to exude confidence.

Mere steps away from the two men, you quickly remember which pocket the dwarf had slipped the beautiful, and most undoubtedly expensive, accessory into to and quickened your steps whilst looking to the right slightly, seemingly acting as if you’re not watching where you’re walking.

Just as the guards were opening their mouths to speak once more, you harshly knocked your own body against Noris’ right side. Turning your whole figure towards him, you concealed the movement of your hand reaching into his pocket and pulling the necklace out from the guards.

You quickly utter an apology up towards Nori, adding a formal ‘Sir’ to the sentence to allude that there was no connection between you and the dwarf. Nori had raised his eyebrow in question but as the timing was inconvenient, he hadn’t uttered a word.

You quickly pocketed the jewellery before facing forward once more, passing by the guards who still had their inquisitive eyes trained down at Nori. Just ahead of you was a small alleyway of some sorts which you had hastily ducked into, peering around the corner to watch the rest of the interaction you ‘accidentally’ disrupted moments ago.

“Would you mind partaking in a quick search,” the guard had, not asked but demanded. You could easily tell by his tone, simply in no mood to continue to act clueless to what Nori has done.

The guard quickly grabbed a hold of Nori whilst the one who spoke began to pat down the entirety of the dwarfs’ being and dig through every pocket and crevice as Nori shouted curses and wild accusations, acting as if he was innocent and that the guards were being discriminative towards him being what he was.

The guards’ eyebrows were furrowed deeply as he completed his search with nothing more than pocket lint to show for it. Nori however, had been thoroughly confused which unmistakeably shown on his face although, he was quick to school his features and bare a victoriously smug smirk as the guard gazed at his face.

“I told ye wouldn’t find anything,” he boasted. “Must’ve been mistaken.”

The guard that had been holding him harshly shoved him forward as he let his grip loosen to remove his hands. The other had bent his knees to become level with the dwarf and seethed menacingly at his face. “I’m watching you, dwarf.”

With that, the two guards took off, stomping ungracefully back the way they came. Nori fixed his clothes before looking around for you, just to simply be met with the sight of strangers. He patted his pocket, unsure why they couldn’t find it, until not feeling the item within it himself.

His face contorted in utter confusion. How could he misplace such a thing, on his own person?

The rest of the day had passed by with Nori questioning himself on where he could had ever hidden that necklace. He had even gone so far as to find a secluded area to strip himself of all his clothes to search every bit of material and himself. He had been completely stumped about it and had even forgotten how you had bumped into him during his altercation with the guards.

Nori had joined back up with the rest of the company, something you had done minutes after watching Nori be questioned and searched by the guards. He sat beside Balin; shoulders slumped in defeat yet that quizzical expression still etched on to his face.

“What’s wrong with you, lad?” Balin inquired seeing Noris’ state.

A moment of silence passed them by before Nori shrugged his shoulders. “Nothin’.” Balin wanted to question Nori further but thought better to leave him be for a while, not wanting to sour his mood further.

The company sat and ate, shared stories of what they had done that day and jokes that could possibly be deemed as inappropriate for someone your age to hear. Soon, each member headed up to the large room they had paid to stay in within the inn, except for Nori, who was still seated with crescent fallen face.

You peeked past the handrail near the bottom step of the stairs with a puzzled expression. Why did Nori seem in such a bad mood? He had been let go by the guards, did he not?

Heading over towards him, you sat beside him on the bench that was adjacent to a long, wooden table. He turned his head towards you as he heard shuffling beside him and, upon recognition, he tried to send you a small smile that hadn’t quite reached his eyes.

“Hello, lass. What’re you doing up?” he spoke solemnly.

You shrugged and sent him a small smile of your own. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You seem sad.”

He half-heartedly chucked, shaking his head. “Aye, I’m alright lass. Just a bit of trouble earlier today?”

“Do you mean with those guards?” you innocently asked, looking up towards him with tired eyes, sleep calling out to you.

He cleared his throat, feeling a pinch of embarrassment at now knowing someone from within the company had seen. “Aye lass.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” That small sentence and coy smile easily reminds him of how children can act sometimes. He chuckles, this time less forced and ruffles your hair. “Goodnight,” you sweetly spoke.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You hopped off of the bench and began to walk back towards the stairs, not before slipping the necklace out and on to the bench where you had just been occupying. Climbing the stairs animatedly, you were welcoming sleep more and more with each step closer towards your bed for the night.

It had taken Nori a few moments, but a glint caught the corner of his eye and turned to look towards his side once more. His eyes widened quite comically at seeing the exact necklace he had been racking his brain about all day.

He picked it up and brought it closer towards his face to inspect it, looking at it bewildered as if the thing was magical itself. As he peered at it, his thoughts had raced back to when the guards had stopped him, replaying the whole thing out slowly within his mind.

Then, it clicked.

You harshly bumping into him, then acting as if you hadn’t known who on Middle-Earth he was. You saved his skin.

Nori laughed louder than he expected as he proceeded to toss the necklace into the air and catch it again within his large hand before slipping it into his pocket just like he had done earlier that day. He patted his hand over the pocket holding the accessory before finishing his drink and deciding to join the others in the idea of resting, a large grin on his face the entire time.

_______________

Oin

Healing others were what you and Oin had in common. The old dwarf had witnessed patch up Bifur with nothing but your mind, hands and will.

He became inquisitive when it had come to you and your abilities, asking question after question. You hadn’t minded the dwarf’s curiosity and inquiring; you had actually found comfort in sharing tales of how he and you both complete the same task but with different methods.

Oin had asked about the history between your people and healing, if others could perform it like yourself. You had explained that, while rare, there were others within your race that could be gifted with such things.

Inquiring about such topic had also led him to ask if such thing was teachable or if it was purely something to be born with. While explaining that it certainly wasn’t teachable to your knowledge, you did explain that that there were some herbs had healing properties that others do not know of, such as Athelas or more commonly known as Kingsfoil.

Little did you know, sharing that information would come in handy at a later point within your journey to the Lonely Mountain with a certain young prince.

Each time a member had injured themselves, you had relieved some of the pressure off of Oin by healing them yourself. Usually, you had dealt with minor things such as small openings and tares within the skin. Maybe a scratch one or twice. Something that hadn’t called for immediate medical attention but something you felt you could help with either way.

One occasion though had led you to use your abilities exceedingly, nearly damaging your body in the process, it being extremely draining and very taxing on your child self.

The company had a run in with an orc pack, larger than usual yet nowhere near the size of an army. Each member of the company was littered with wounds deeper than the usual, but one you all had feared was more life threatening than the rest.

Gloin laid there, unmoving, his chest raising and falling with irregular, weak breaths. Oin felt his heart drop and his stomach knot it an uncomfortable pain. His eyes trained on his sons’ body, near limp and lifeless, as he quickly rushed over and fell to his knees beside him. With shaking hands, he was quick to cover the wound, applying pressure even though his arms felt weak.

You felt sorry for the inconsolable old dwarf, having to see a loved one in such a state. Everyone was panicking, pacing, fidgeting, willing their tears back as they watched. Without a moment to spare, you surged forward, quickly joining Oin on your knees, adjacent to his own body, Gloin in between you both.

You cautiously brought your hands to rest over Oins’ own and gently removed them from atop his sons wound. Retracting your hands from his, you brought yours over to lay across the large, blood-oozing gash on Gloins’ torso.

Closing your eyes, you focused everything on the wound before you. your mind was whirling a mile a minute and your heart was aching for if you did not do this right, the old dwarf may still lose his son in the end.

The company watched on with baited breaths, the wait antagonising and hope quickly diminishing each second that passed.

You felt how the wound was slowly closing up, reforming back to its original state of unscathed skin, but your mind grew tired and your whole body felt weak. Your head throbbed as you willed yourself to continue pushing, to save the dwarfs’ life.

Soon, you felt you had completed your task, sensing the wound was now gone. Before you could open your eyes, your mind slipped into a state of unconsciousness and your body which had been slightly slumped over but still upright from your kneeling position, had finally keeled, and fell to the side, your body landing on the ground with a harsh thump.

Oin had tears sting his eyes and the second Gloin had released a disorientated groan and his chest began to rise and fall more evenly, he breathed out shakily in relief. He smiled down at his son but seconds later, concern presented itself once more as his gaze flitted over towards your unconscious body, soft breath slipping passed your parted lips.

Now it was his turn to repay you with the best care he could offer.

Hours later, you shifted slightly, waking up from your state of deep sleep. A loud thumping was ever present in your head, as if it were repeatedly being stamped and trampled on by giants. Very slowly, your eyes fought against the light of the fire, usually a soft glow now a harsh glare. You let out a quiet whimper once you had been able to keep your eyes opening for longer than a quick recoil, even if it was achieved due to hazily squinting.

Your head lolled to the side in a drunken-like state. Your eyes met the form of Oin preoccupied with something off to the side of you, his eyes and hands focused on that rather than you. But he certainly could tell you were now awake.

“What you did was incredibly reckless and dangerous, you could have harmed yourself immensely, or worse.” His tone was lightly scolding you, and for once, you were close to tears due to something other than nightmares or pain for the first time in what had felt like forever. You hadn’t wanted to disappoint the dwarf and now you felt incredibly upset and ashamed.

Your eyes watered, that is until you spotted the kind smile upon Oins’ lips. “You had placed yourself in harms way for my son. Thank you. I owe you more than my life, child.”

He shifted his body to face you, abandoning his previous task. He brought his hand up slowly and gently soothed down your hair before placing the back of his hand against your forehead to check for a high temperature. Pleased that you seem to be regulating back to normal, the old dwarf smiled before gently patting your arm.

“Get some rest child, we move early and quickly when dawn breaks.” Simply nodding, you give him a small, sleepy smile and allow your eyes to flutter close as your head turns to lay against the simple pillow.

_______________

Gloin & Balin

Balin had quickly taken to you, placing you under his wing protectively. The dwarf had grown fond of you quickly and the two of you had speedily made a connection of that like family. Gloin on the other hand, seemed like he avoided you like the plague, even more so after healing him after the large ambush of orcs a couple weeks back.

You were completely stumped at what you could’ve done to annoy the dwarf so much from the moment of meeting each other. Gods, even Thorin and Dwalin had been able to spare glances at you and acknowledge your existence, even if they weren’t big fans of your presence.

Balin had easily took notice of how it seems to affect you mentally, emotionally, and now, physically.

One afternoon after Thorin had loudly declared that you would all settle down for the night in the small clearing that was to your right, Balin had asked Gloin to the side, wanting to have a conversation about his hang ups against a small child.

Once Balin had felt the two were secluded enough from the others, he sat atop a large rock that was conveniently placed near them. He patted the surface of the rock beside him, inviting the younger dwarf to join him. Gloin had join him after a moment of thought, and the two sat in silence side by side.

That is, until Balin decided to break said silence.

“If you don’t mind me asking lad, why do you have such reservations against the child?” Although he had asked in a kind tone, the question itself was very forward, blunt and prying.

Gloin released what was a mixture between a sigh and a groan, waiting for someone, no less Balin, to question his behaviour towards you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Balin,” came Gloins’ gruff answer.

Balin scoffed, seeing right through his lies. “Do not take me for a fool Gloin.”

Gloin sighed once more, it sounding more sullen than the previous. He rolled his shoulders before slumping them slightly, head lowered. “I just, I miss my boy, I miss Gimli. Every time I glance at her, it reminds me I cannot be with him. To be with my family.”

Balin smiled knowing that he had gotten what he sought out, the truth. He placed a comforting hand atop of Gloins’ shoulder in sympathy, the kind smile on the older dwarfs face never faltering.

“As much as I do sympathise with you lad, maybe consider the fact that, that child you have blatantly ignored and have avoided does not have a family,” Balin tried reasoning. He had been told by Gandalf how your family and many of your people had demised, leaving you with no one and no home.

“Is the lass really alone?” Gloin questioned as he peered to the side at Balins’ face. He nodded sullenly, causing Gloin to sigh and shake his head, disappointed within himself. His distaste for you was rooted by his feelings about his family, a family that you no longer had, a family you were probably trying to create with the members of the company.

He had hurt a child simply because he was feeling homesick.

“I’ll make this right, Balin. I swear to Mahal I will.”

Balin sent him a curt nod and small smile. “I know you will, lad.” With that, Balin patted his shoulder and stood, allowing Gloin to have a moment by himself as he headed over towards where the others had surrounded themselves around the fire.

Gloin sat in silence by himself, looking out into the vast woodland area before him, thinking over his actions, mind trying to piece together some way you could forgive him for the upset and hurt he had caused you. Even the most closed off of the group had at least been able to accept you into the company, making you feel as welcome as they could whilst staying within their comfort zone.

He shook his head and heaved a long sigh before standing and making his way back towards the group himself. Passing the treeline, each member had gazed over towards him, the noise he made catching their attention.

Most simply went back to what they had been doing previously, except for Oin, Balin, and yourself. Oin had caught the shift within his mood and simply wanted to observe how his son was feeling. He probably still had that sense of worry flow through him ever since he had been close to death. Balin simply watched for the reason of wanting to see what he planned on doing, whether he would try to make amends of sorts with you tonight or at a later time. You, you had continued to observe him to check if he was alright, in all meanings of the term.

He appeared uninjured but you could sense that there was a swirl of thoughts rushing through his head. You frowned but made no effort to ask of his wellbeing, sure that he would just ignore you like every other instance you had tried to communicate with him.

Gloin had turned his eyes towards you, surprising you exceedingly. The dwarf had barely acknowledged your existence before and now he was outright, blatantly looking towards you. Your eyes widen and your head quickly snapped forward towards your pack, riffling through it to retrieve your blanket, just as originally planned.

The dwarf huffed a small chuckle and had to fight the twitching of his lips that threatened to show his smile. Granted, it felt painful to look at you and to be reminded of his son who he’s separated from, but your behaviour was also amusing and reminded him of Gimli in the best of ways.

As a young dwarfling, Gimli had been very timid and shy, acting bashful during occasions. You and Gimli look quite similar in age too, apart from the tuft of red hair on Gimlis’ chin. Maybe being reminded of his son wasn’t such a bad thing. It’ll help him remember exactly who he is fighting for the reclamation of Erebor for. His son. His wife. His family.

Forcing your gaze to keep towards in front of you, you quickly found your blanket before going back towards your spot near the fire during the cold night. Encasing your body with the material, you clung tightly to the item and hoped desperately for the heat to reach you and warm you up.

No such luck.

Your whole body shook like a leaf as you shivered, the cool air sending a constantly chill down your spine and causing goosebumps to litter the skin on your arms. The other members had seemed fairly unbothered by the dropping temperatures of the night, except Bilbo, although he was fairing much better than yourself. The dwarfs had large fur coats covering their bodies, all that hair must help insulate their natural warmth, too. You had nothing but the clothes on your back and the thin blanket to help keep your warm.

Majority of the others were too preoccupied to notice your chilled suffering. Balin and Gloin being the exceptions. The older of the two dwarfs had wanted to help you warm up and become comfortable, but he elected to see whether the other dwarf would take this as an opportunity to start building a relationship between you both.

It seemed Balin was right in his decision of not moving to help. Gloin watched you shiver for a short while, mulling over what exactly he could do to help. If it were anyone else that faced this dilemma, he would come up with a solution rather speedily.

He knew, if his son were to be in your position, he wouldn’t hesitate a singular moment to remove the great, big, warm fur coat that encased a large proportion of his body and drape it over his son. It was as if a switch had been flicked on within his mind, his face clearly showing that he had solved the problem at hand!

Balin had to repress a chuckled at watching Gloins’ expression change from that of completely stumped to knowing exactly what he should do.

Walking over towards you slowly, he pulled the fur clothing off of his own back and held it within his hands. Gloin could tell you could sense someone nearing you as your head turned to the side ever so slightly to peer at whoever was coming closer to you from the corner of your eye.

Once noticing exactly whose frame walk closing in on you at snail’s pace, you snapped your head forward towards the fire and straightened your back as much as physically possible. Moments passed with bated breath, waiting for him to eventually pass you without any interaction but, that is not what had played out.

You felt a weight be draped across your shoulders and down on to your back, warmth already encasing you and easily beating out what little heat the blanket had provided. You looked down at the right side of your body and noticed a dark fur engulfing your small frame and you subconsciously snuggled further into it.

A large hand was brought down gently atop your head, ruffling your hair slightly as it patted your head with a tender touch.

Gloin continued onwards, completely passing your body and heading towards the free space beside his father where he sat down, coat now missing from his sizeable build. You looked towards him with wide eyes, utterly shocked by the interaction before turning your gaze towards Balin, who watched the entire thing before him right from his own spot near the fire.

The corner of his mouth was lifted upwards smugly, and he sent a wink your way. You smiled brightly at him before nestling yourself even further, than what could be assumed as humanly possible, into your cocoon of comforting heat.

It warmed you in more ways than one with how Gloin had shown that one act of care towards you, and you believed that maybe the dwarf didn’t exactly hate you like you had originally thought.

_______________

Dwalin

The time you had truly made some form of strong connection with the heavily tattooed best friend of Thorin was also when you had saved his life, just by different means to what you had done with Gloin.

Everyone knows, even at first glance, that Dwalin is a fierce, gruff warrior. A force to be reckoned with. Which was probably why you had felt so intimidated when near him. If he wasn’t angrily cursing at whatever or burying his heavy war hammer into the skulls of their enemies, he usually tended to grunt, groan, and eat throughout the journey.

Once again, the company had been attacked by orcs and their wargs, leaving the dwarves, hobbit, wizard, and yourself to fight and escape those who continuously hunt your group down.

You all ran across a large, open field, feet pounding against the soft, green grass below you, taking down enemies that had gotten too close for comfort. It was when you had all bolted into the beginning of a densely wooded area did you all begin to find yourselves truly in a pickle.

The large number of trees and unseen dips and grooves within the ground had helped slow the movements of the grotesque orcs but hindering your own movements along the way. With you all spread out, it was easy to lose focus on where you’re stepping to defend yourself from blow after blow from opponents.

All you had was a simple dagger clutched tightly, only to be used if absolutely nessicary. Luckily, you’ve had no need to use it so far, but it appears your luck may finally fun out.

A harsh thump accompanied by the crackling and snapping of leaves and twigs on the ground caught your attention, whipping your head to look to the right of you. There, fumbling and shuffling about was Dwalin, desperately trying to grasp his large weapon that had been tossed a few meters from him whilst trying to push the larger orc away from him in the hopes of not being killed.

You froze, posture stiff, eyes wide, small hands trembling, breath caught in your throat. You watched for moments on end, the struggle between dwarf and orc, friend and foe. Only a particularly pained and frustrated groan from Dwalin had snapped you out of your shocked state.

Your whole body began to move in an instant, squaring your shoulders and allowing your small legs to carry you speedily across to where they tumble around. With as much force as you could put behind it in your small, child body, you shouldered the orc in a tackle, knocking it completely off of on top of Dwalin, sending your own bouncing back on to the floor with a dull thud.

With lightning quick reflexes, Dwalin grasped at the large weapon that was now within his reached and turned to quickly end the life of the foul thing that had been recuperating from your wildly unseen tackle, it releasing a pained scream as its last sound.

Fortunately, the others had seemed to fair better than the two with taking down the rest of the orcs as they soon began to gather as a group once more, all checking each other and glad to see that they were all well.

Before you and Dwalin had been able to walk over to join the others, Dwalin clasped his hand around your wrist to stop you from joining them. He looked towards the ground before sighing heavily and shaking his head. He turned his gaze towards you. “Thank you,” he grumbled.

You sent him one of your biggest smiles yet before crashing your body into his, hugging him around his waist tightly. “I’m glad you’re okay, Mister Dwalin,” you whispered.

Dwalin tensed before reluctantly wrapping one around you and patting your back quite awkwardly. After a few short moments shared with the other, you could tell the dwarf was becoming agitated with the contact.

“Alright, get off o’ me.” You childishly giggle before unwinding your arms from around him, smiling up at him once more before turning on your heel and making quick work to be reunited with the rest of the company.

Dwalin grumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes before copying your movements, ready to regroup and continue on their way. What couldn’t be seen was the small twitch of his lips hidden behind his beard, a small smile constantly fighting its way on to his face each time he looked at you.

If Dwalin hadn’t felt protective towards you before, he had certainly felt to do so now.

_______________

Thorin

Thorin was the final member of the group you had connected with. This occasion though had been more personal, sentimental, and more heartfelt than possibly any of the others, even if you could have created a bond with any of the other dwarves easily within this exact same subject.

Home.

The thing you, and majority of the others, lacked severely. Something you yearned to have.

It was nightfall when you had noticed the rightful dwarven king of Erebor was brooding in silence and allowed sullen thoughts to swirl around his head. He was sat further away than what could be deemed usual for Thorin, a distant look in his hazy orbs, watching images, memories, pass by before him.

His demeanour oozed that of being hypnotised but with a twist of despair.

He was a broken dwarf, there was no denying such.

Thorin was very paced with eating his food, eating the meal that Bombur prepared very sluggish, more so playing with it rather than actually ingesting it and gaining any of its nutritional value. If anyone were to look inside of the bowl that was now carelessly placed beside him, it would be sure that they would find most of the food untouched and cold.

You timidly went and collected the bowl beside the dwarven king, almost as if cautiously approaching a wild beast that could become agitated and enraged with a quick snap of someone’s fingers.

Quickly returning, you placed the bowls with the others, ready to be taken by whichever members of the company that had volunteered to wash them in a nearby stream.

You turned your gaze back towards Thorin, eyebrows furrowed in great concern. Of course, it wasn’t an unusual sight for the dwarf to be sat separately from the others, looking quite pensive and deep in thought. But tonight, tonight he seemed more saddened than you had ever seen him.

A quiet, internal debate forced your feet to move forward, taking your body over towards him. It seemed that once you had reached him for the second time that night, he hadn’t noticed your presence. Or he at least acted like he hadn’t.

Sitting down beside him slowly, you sat in silence beside him, mulling over exactly what you could say to begin conversation. You mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, searching for the right words that constantly felt like they were at the tip of your tongue. Just as you think you had finally settled on what to say, Thorin had beaten you to the chase and spoke in his usual gruff, deep voice.

“What is it?”

You released a squeak in surprise, eyes widening and heat quickly rising to your face out of embarrassment. “I-I wanted to see if you were alright, king Thorin,” you replied in an octave higher than your usual tone.

He huffed as he side-eyed you before scoffing. “And why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem so…sad.” Your voice returned to normal but held a sullen undertone with a hint of concern.

Thorin turned his head to begin his onslaught of anger towards you but quickly reigned in his anger, remembering that you were but just a small child. A child that was concerned about him. With a quiet moment of thinking, he decided that maybe, there would be no harm in confiding his thoughts to you, even if speaking was certainly not his strongest forte.

“You’re right. I am quite upset tonight,” he conceded. “I am thinking of Erebor, of our home that had been so viciously taken away from us.” He spoke with such venom but such sadness that it had clenched at your heart, sympathising with the dwarven king.

“But we are going to reclaim it, right? We are going to get your home back.” You spoke with such resolve and confidence, such passion and determination that it had enticed a smile out of the brooding Thorin.

“Yes. Yes, we are, little one.”

A silence settled between you both, contented with each others’ presence. You sat side by side for minutes upon minutes with seemingly no end. But the silence had allowed your own thoughts and memories of home to invade your head, leading to quite an unsettling, upsetting realisation to dawn on to you.

You would still have no home to return to after this journey.

Once the dwarves claim back Erebor, you will still be just a small child, wandering from place to place.

“I’m glad you’re getting your home back, Thorin,” you meekly spoke although your voice wavered, revealing your dampened mood. The small sniffle you release also doesn’t go unnoticed by the dwarven king beside you, causing his head to turn to look down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yes, I’m glad too. Surely, you’re excited for this quest to be completed, you must miss being home and cannot wait to return.” Soft, broken sobs begin to emit themselves from your throat, tears cascading out of your eyes and dropping into your lap as you’ve lowered your head.

You know you can’t avoid speaking of the subject now so, this would be the first time you actually openly admit to someone other than Gandalf that you have no family, you have no home.

As you continue to cry, you begin to clarify to Thorin exactly why you are so upset. “M-my family…They-they died a full moon before your journey began. That’s when Gandalf f-found me,” you force yourself to speak through your erratic hiccups and never-ending tears. You look up at him with your wet eyes, the only thing behind them is hurt, sadness, anguish, and fear. “Wh-where am I gonna go when its over?” your words were slightly slurred. It was obvious that these feelings that you have been carrying around with you have exhausted you in all senses.

Thorin turned his whole body towards and grasped the top of your arms with a firm but tender grip. “Hey,” he spoke as he shook your shoulders gently to grasp your attention. “Your home is with us now, it always will be. You didn’t have to come along and join our quest; you could have easily decided to stay within any town we had passed through if you had really wanted to do so. But you didn’t because you have such a beautiful, big heart which made you want to help a group of dwarfs reclaim their home. Erebor will be your home once we reclaim it, and we will be your family for as long as any one of us lives. You will never be alone from this day forward; I promise you that.”

He finished his heartfelt speech to you and you all but burst out into tears once more, except this time, it wasn’t out of despair and because you had begun to feel absolutely broken, it was out of relief, happiness, love.

Throughout the entire journey, you had grown to care for and love each member of the company as if they had been the ones to personally hang the stars within the night sky, like a child would idolise their father or brother. You believed that they had come to feel the same way about to you too.

With quick movements and no room for protest, you flung yourself forward and hugged Thorin tightly, burying your face into his large, broad chest as you sniffled once more. Much like Dwalin, he tensed up immediately, thrown off by the sudden affectionate action but he quickly eased into the hug, wrapping his arms around your small, frail, shaking frame, smoothing your hair down with his hand.

You stayed like that for moments on end until you had inevitably fallen asleep within the warmth of Thorins’ gentle embrace. With slow movements, Thorin removed his large fur coat from around his body and wrapped them around you, moving you slowly into a more comfortable position against him.

That night, he sat there with you nestled into his side peacefully sleeping, arm wrapped around you protectively, thinking about how he had just so obviously made your fears disappear by simply offering you a home and a family within Erebor.

He smiled as if he had accomplished the most important task, he had ever been faced with.

_______________

Thorin had kept true to his word and once Erebor had been reclaimed, that was where you remained, with a home and a family.

Many things had come to pass. Dwarfs returned to the mountain, leading you to meet the people that mean most to those within the company. You had met Dís, Thorins’ sister and mother of Fíli and Kíli, who had quite easily and quickly accepted you with open arms and an overbearing mother attitude. You had also met the family of Gloin. You and his son became friends pretty quickly, which was surely a surprise.

As you had grown within Erebor, you had still been as thick as thieves with the company. You had constantly written letters to Bilbo, receiving many in return, along with exchanging books as often as you could. You spent hours beside Ori as you both draw and became quite the tea enthusiast along side Dori due to his influence.

You had tested the toys and gave feedback to Bofur all whilst joking around. You and the two princes had horsed around often, an extraordinarily strong bond forming between you three, seeming as they had adopted you like a little sibling.

You had joined Bifur in whatever he ended up doing that day for he was still quite the peculiar dwarf, picking up some of their language along the way. You and Bombur spent time together often in the kitchens, experimenting and eating. Nori had begun to drag you into his ploys of stealing, which you probably should have minded more of.

Gloin had no choice but to spend time with you, seeing as you and his son had practically become conjoined at the hip. Balin, he simply doted on you and loved you as if you were the most precious thing the gods had given him. Dwalin was quick to train you, teaching you how to handle weapons and how to protect yourself. He would never admit it, but he doted on you just as much as his brother Balin. As you became older, you had become a wonderful healer in training beside Oin, learning and growing with your abilities.

Thorin, he loved you unconditionally, like the daughter he never had. He sacrificed much time to be with you, raise you, teach you all that you needed to know. Although he had absolutely argued against your accompaniment at first, he grew to care for you and finally, during that one night where the two of you, a gruff dwarven king and a scared and lonely child, had a heartfelt moment, he opened himself up to allow himself to begin loving you as if you always had a place in his heart, much like his nephews.

The people of Erebor had grown to love and accept you tremendously. So had each and every single member of that company, those who you spent so long travelling with just to get here. There all held a part within your heart, as you did with theirs.

_______________

BRUH IT’S SO LONG

Like my fics average between 2,000 to 4,000 words

I was trying something different and it was so hard to keep working like I had been doing for this fic but I guess it worked out in the end

If you would like to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you all enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

LOTR / The Hobbit taglist

@iwazoomingouttahere

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phdmama · 3 years

Note

I would absolutely love to see your take on 9 from the love confession prompts if you feel up to it!

Thank you! Well, this got maybe a tiny bit out of control (and eventually I'll get it over to AO3 as well) - but. Here you go! Please keep in mind that this is not beta'd and is just pretty much straight out of my head, but this is what came to my mind for the prompt: "I really, really like your stupid face."

Love Confessions

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who's tagged me in any of those post a snippet things ( @princelyharry @drarrymybeloved @sweet-s0rr0w @kingsofeverything @slytherinzouis - sorry it's not snippet, it's not Sunday, and it's not really a WIP but I did write it today?!).

Drarry, Teen, 1500ish Words

“I can’t believe you got us kidnapped.”

Potter’s voice is glum, and while his tone is not particularly accusatory, Draco bristles all the same.

“I do not understand how this is my fault? You were the one blundering about and shouting for me! In any case, we weren’t kidnapped, Potter. Honestly. We were captured.”

“Captured, kidnapped, I’m not sure, functionally, I see the difference,” Potter says from behind him, where he’s securely bound to the same pole Draco is currently attached to.

Draco sighs and prays for patience. This is not an unfamiliar prayer for him and it’s not ever been granted, not even once.

“Kidnapped implies they came and got us. Captured implies we came to them. Which, I’d like to state for the record, was not my plan. I was content with my boring little stakeout when you had come blundering like a herd of…” Draco tries to think of something sufficiently elephantine that isn’t an elephant, because elephants are amazing, and Potter is not.

All right, fine, that’s a lie. Potter is slightly amazing. Just the tiniest bit, really.

“A herd of…” Potter prompts interestedly.

“Alligators,” Draco says grumpily and feels more than hears the laugh Potter gives.

They’ve been stashed in the basement. Draco’s arms are bound in front of him, as he presumes Potter’s are, and they’ve got both rope and charms tethering them to the pole which, if Draco is not mistaken, is holding up the ceiling in this ramshackle… shack. He can’t feel the heat of Potter’s body, but if he wiggles just so, he can brush his shoulder against Potter’s, which is nice.

“I don’t think alligators come in herds,” Potter says fondly and Draco snickers before he can stop himself.

“I have to say,” Draco remarks, “you’re taking this whole being disarmed and captured thing surprisingly calmly. What do you know that I don’t?”

Draco and Potter have been paired up for years now, and they work well together, amplifying each other’s strengths and shoring up each other’s weaknesses. They’re friends. They spend time together that’s not work-related, sometimes even without anyone else along. But more importantly, they’re partners.

Draco knows Potter inside and out. Potter is many things. He’s brilliant, in an intuitive and impulsive way, and almost fearless in his quest for justice. He’s kind all the way to the bone and his capacity for love and forgiveness astounds Draco even now. He’s not functional until his second cup of coffee, he can be moody as fuck, and he’s loyal as a… Draco doesn’t know what. Something really loyal. He’s also easy on the eyes.

But what he’s not is compliant when he doesn’t want to be. He doesn’t give up and he never gives in, which makes the ease with which they were captured somewhat suspect. Draco’s suspicion only grows at the awkward silence.

“Okay, look,” Potter begins and Draco exhales slowly, genuine anger flickering in his gut. “I wasn’t holding out on you. I got a message from my CI late last night, and by the time I figured out that what he was giving me was legit, you were already staked out here. I knew they were coming and I got… worried.”

Draco frowns, taken aback. “Worried?”

“Yeah,” Potter says quietly. “This isn’t the drop location, Draco, it’s their safehouse. I was worried about you being kidnapped—”

“Captured.” Draco can’t help himself. “Words mean things, Potter.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Potter mutters.

“It’s very sweet of you to be worried,” Draco assures him. “But, as you might have noticed, we’re now in a bit of a pickle, in that, we’ve both been captured. Not to mention, disarmed. We’re bound to a pole with ropes and magic dampening charms. I can’t even see your stupid face. I know you’ve got more wandless than I do,” and it galls him to admit that but Draco long ago decided that the truth was more important than his feelings, “but I’m doubting even you can get a Patronus to Ron. So I’ll ask you again since you’ve sidestepped the question. What do you know that I don’t know.”

“I really wasn’t planning this,” Potter says. “I was thinking I’d just come and find you and bring you back to the office so we could go over this info, but then you weren’t where I thought you were going to be and I got… concerned.”

“You mean you got loud,” Draco says and Potter gives a small, annoyed hum of agreement.

“But,” Potter says and Draco knows that tone. That tone means that Potter had actually planned for this contingency (well, in all likelihood it was Weasley, one of the more brilliant strategic minds Draco’s ever come across, and wither Potter goes, so goes Weasley). “The wand that they took from me, it wasn’t my wand.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Potter says. “I couldn’t risk bringing my wand too so I only had the one, but if they try it, it’s a real wand. It’s just got… something extra.”

“Such as?”

“Such as recording and tracking spells,” Potter says with great satisfaction. “It’ll lead DART right to them, and from there, they’ll figure out where we are and come to get us. It shouldn’t be too long. Ron will send his Patronus once the op is done.”

Draco sighs. It’s a brilliant move, and he says as much to Potter. “I just would have liked to be in on the bust.”

Potter sighs. “I know. Me too. But this way, it’ll be over. No more trafficking. No more poisonings.”

Draco lets his head rest against the pole. This isn’t the only active case they have at the moment, but it’s certainly the biggest. With this wrapped up, maybe they can take a break before diving back in. Draco imagines white sand and azure water, and Potter next to him.

Oh yes, there’s that — the fact that Draco has been in love with Potter for longer than he cares to think about, and the alligator in the room is that he’s pretty sure Potter has just figured it out. They’d been out for drinks two days ago and it had been only the two of them at the end of the night. There had been a moment when Draco, made careless by that last whiskey, had let his guard down, had let himself really look at Potter with everything he feels for him, and then.

Potter had looked back.

Potter had looked back and Draco had fled the scene before Potter could say anything kind but ultimately dismissive. The next day at the office, Draco had aggressively pretended that nothing had happened, and had ignored Potter’s pensive glances and attempts to talk. Which brings them to here and now, and Draco is pretty sure he’s not going to be able to escape Harry Potter breaking his heart.

But when Potter speaks, what he says is unexpected.

“Why do you want to see my face?”

“What?” Draco frowns and tries to twist around to look at Potter, but he’s bound too tightly.

“When you were complaining about our… pickle I believe you called it? You said you couldn’t even see my stupid face. I just.”

Draco closes his eyes and swallows. “Potter,” he says, and then, more quietly, “Harry.”

“Draco,” Harry says back, “I’m not letting this go. Talk to me.”

“Maybe I like your stupid face,” Draco says reluctantly, sure that every word is another nail in the coffin of their partnership.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” Draco says, “I didn’t want to ruin this. Our partnership. I didn’t want to make it awkward, have you let me down gently and then it would be weird at work, and working with you, Harry. It’s the best, most important part of my life.”

“Did it ever occur to you,” Harry asks quietly, “that maybe I like your stupid face too?”

Wait, what?

“What?” Draco says, and his heart starts to race. “Harry, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Harry says impatiently, “that I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t know how you felt until the other night. I never thought you’d… I never thought I’d have a chance. And then you looked at me.” Draco feels his shrug. “And I realized. You’ve been hiding just as much as I have.”

Draco blinks as he stares up at the ceiling, recalibrating, well, everything he thought he knew without a doubt.

“So, what are you saying?” he asks again. “I’m going to need you to be really clear with me here.”

“I’m saying,” Harry says, sounding somewhat aggrieved, probably that Draco’s making him go first, “That I really, really like your stupid face. And your stupid hair and your stupid brain and your stupid… everything. And if you’re amenable, when we get out of here, I’d like to take you somewhere private and kiss your stupid face, like. A lot.”

“Well,” Draco says expansively as it starts to sink in that he’s about to get everything he’s ever wanted. “If you must.”

Harry is still laughing when the wards come down and their team comes in to rescue them.

#my writing #Drarry prompt fic #ficlet #figuring it out #idiots in love #also a group of alligators is called a congregation

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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

Text

ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ

_________________________________

ғʀᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and steve hooked up once and neither of you can forget that night

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: smut 18+ minors dni plz, kinda rough? but of course major fluffy aftercare from soft boi stevie, bit of inexperienced reader and insecure reader

(accidentally written unprotected sex but this is fanfiction lmao plz be safe irl)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ive never participated in a challenge before and i think @honeysucklesteve is just the sweetest so hope you like it el! And congrats on 4k :T

__________________________________

“And the interesting thing about that, mind I add…” the words of your professor falling short because you can’t shake the feeling of his eyes looking at you.

You kept your head low fighting the urge within you not to look back. A couple nights ago you landed yourself in the bed of the infamous frat president Steve Rogers and to make matters worse, you both major in American Studies meaning you share all of your classes.

You didn’t have much experience with guys in high school so it wasn’t surprising when you had the same experience in college. What was surprising was the fact you spent a night in the arms of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Steve Rogers was a huge catch. Teachers loved him, girls chased him,and guys wanted to be him.

You remember that night so vividly.

The way his hands fit so perfectly on your hips. The way his lips felt so hot against your own burning skin; and moved perfectly against yours. The things he whispered in your ear. They way he held you close when you fell asleep in his arms. The way you hated yourself the next morning when you snuck out. The way your tummy flutters simply because he’s looking at you right now.

You breathed out shakily before turning your head to find his eyes with yours; he looked away the moment you did shyly, very unlike him. Fuck he was gonna be the death of you.

“And that should be the end of the lecture. I’m gonna go ahead let you guys go a little early. Have a good weekend everyone and make sure to check your emails,” the professor gathered his things and left.

You packed your things quickly trying your best to avoid his gaze that you knew was still on you. Steve packed quickly too before walking hot on your tail, just about to call your name until…

“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky called out.

“Oh, hey Buck.”

“It’s the weekend and as usual the guys and I want to party tonight. But the dean said one more noise complaint about our house and we get on academic probation so we’re asking a couple of people who might wanna come to the club with us.”

Behind Bucky you could see Steve walking towards you two and your stomach sank. Bucky and Steve were best friends and you don’t know if Steve told him that you guys slept together last weekend. What if something happens again tonight if you say yes. Why are you even thinking that something could happen again? Steve Rogers is way out of your league it was a miracle that you landed a chance to be his bed warmer in the first place.

“I’ll see you for lunch, man,” Steve said to Bucky patting his best friend's shoulders. His eyes lingering with yours until you had to pull away.

“I don’t think I should,” you told him, walking towards the door.

“Come on, Nat told me you're quite the party animal and you left early last week I didn’t get to see you in action,” Bucky chuckled, walking with you. You didn’t leave early…

“Buck,” you looked at him.

“Please?” he asked. You exhaled sharply rolling your eyes before walking away to your next class.

“Is that a yes?” he shouted, making you turn around with a cheeky grin. You got to your next class and noticed Steve sitting in a new seat today, particularly the one next to the seat you usually sit in. None of his housemates or regular friends took this specific lecture so he usually sat in the very back corner alone. But today here he is.

His head snapped up when you entered the room. You hesitantly sat down next to him still avoiding his eyes. You set up your laptop on the small table as did Steve; both your eyes glancing at each other quite awkwardly until Steve finally interrupts the silence.

“You coming tonight?” he whispered.

“What’s in it for me if I do?” you said playfully.

“A repeat of the best night you’ve ever had,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, really,” you chuckled sarcastically as he nodded with an overly proud smirk.

“Probably not,” you answer his question.

“Seriously? Why not? I can pick you up,” he said.

“Steve,” you warned.

“What? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

“You’re so full of it,” you said, making you both laugh.

“You were full of my dick last week,” he whispered.

“Steve!” you punched his side making him laugh hard enough for other students to take notice of your ruckus.

“Welcome class, we’ll begin the lecture in one minute. I’m just gonna pull it up on the projector,” the professor said rushing in.

“Please come tonight,” he whispered.

“Why are you obsessed with me?” you joked.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled.

“If I say ok, will you shut up for the rest of the lecture?”

“Maybe,” he grinned.

“Then maybe I’ll come,” you smirked.

Throughout the lecture Steve paid absolutely no attention whatsoever. Steve had been thinking about that night just as much as you had. The way your neck craned to the side a bit, reminding him of when he littered marks and bruises all over last week. The way you subtly bit your lip in concentration but all that clouded his mind was lust remembering how you looked so pretty from above when he was settled between your legs.

He wanted you again so badly. He wasn't going to lie, it sort of hurt him when he woke up and you weren't there. He thought maybe there was something between you two, god knows the tension was overwhelming that night. You weren't the most frisky woman he'd been with but you were sweet; slight innocence with your intimacy. He craved you.

Steve leaned towards you, his fingers twiddling with yours. You tried your best to ignore his advances despite how much you equally craved him. He ran his nose along your cheek and jaw and your breathing quickened inhumanly.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Nothing, just relax," he responded. As much as he wanted to drag you out of class and fuck you so good, he knew you'd rip him a new one if he did. No matter how he'd make you feel.

"No, we're in the middle of a lecture," you argued.

"I'm not doing anything," he said humorously, you were not humored though.

"Steve," you scolded when he pressed a faint kiss under your ear.

You knew a guy like Steve was horny practically twenty-four seven, but you didn't take him to be quite clingy. Especially with someone like you. His arm wrapped under yours. His other resting on your thigh. His head tucked in the crook of your neck. It wasn't particularly sexual, but it was intimate. Something normal to couples, and you two were not a couple.

"Please come tonight," he whispered, “If not I’ll come over.”

"Ugh fine," you grunted, your voice breaking into a giggle because you did somewhat enjoy this unfamiliar attention.

Steve continued to sit next to you during the rest of your classes for the day absent mindedly teasing you, playing with your fingers, twirling your hair between his fingers, leaning his head on your shoulder while he held your hand. Like geez, take a girl out already.

By the time you got back to your shared apartment with two of your closest friends you felt conflicted. Why the sudden shift in Steve? You two weren't exactly best friends before, just two people who shared classes and accidentally slept with each during a drunken night at a frat party.

"Hey, everything ok?" Wanda asked you noticing your inner battle.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda. No," you said defeatedly making the girls chuckle.

"What happened?" Nat asked.

"That guy, that I… you know."

"Fucked?"

"Nat!" you said embarrassed.

"Go on," Wanda encouraged.

"Well, I never told you guys but the guy was Steve," you said shyly.

"What!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.

"You're lying," Nat laughed.

"You really went from zero to a hundred," Wanda giggled.

"Guys stop," you whined.

"All day today, he's been like super clingy. Holding my hand and pretending he's like my boyfriend."

"Wait, I thought you liked him?" Nat asked, confused.

"I mean I do, but it's sudden and I'm pretty sure it's only because he wants to get in my pants again, you know?" you rationed.

"Awe, I don't think that's true. I've known Steve for a bit and yeah he sleeps around sometimes but he's not a giant dick. Doing that would be way too shallow, especially for Steve," Nat said.

“Yeah but don’t you think it’s weird?” you asked.

“Look did Bucky ask you about tonight?” Nat asked.

“Yeah, he did- how do you know that?” you asked, confused.

“Oh- Uh,” Nat paused.

“She asked Buck to invite you,” Wanda snickered.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, you never go out with us and the last time you did we thought you just went home but apparently you were getting laid,” Nat cackled.

“Oh my- shut up,” you huffed before storming off to your room.

“Wait! Can you at least come with us tonight?” Wanda followed you.

“No,” you giggled.

“Please!” both girls said at the same time. As you closed your door with a grin on your face not responding.

Hours later you laid on your bed lowly listening to the soft rumbling chaos from your comedic roommates. You stayed in your not so sexy undergarments and not so sexy sweatpants along with a hoodie you stole from your brother before you moved.

You ate the junk you’ve stocked up on the past few weeks feeling a bit glum. It’s not that you didn’t necessarily want to go, you would love to spend another night in that gorgeous man’s arms but there’s absolutely no way Steve is gonna want you the way you’d like him too. Not sober.

There was a subtle knock on your door and you called out knowing the girls were probably ready to leave.

"How do we look?" Nat asked, walking into your room with Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look hot," you said sitting up.

"You think Vis would like this or is it too much?" Wanda asked sheepishly, she's had a crush on the foreign exchange student Vis for the longest time and had yet to make a move.

"I think someone's gonna have a lucky night," you wiggled your brows suggestively, making her roll her eyes and blush.

"What about you, still chasing Bryce?" you turned to Nat looked extra sexy tonight.

"His name is Bruce," she rolled her eyes.

"And yes, I am," she chuckled.

"You're so weird," you giggled, Bruce didn't seem to particularly be Nat's type but hey, no judgement.

"I heard he's got like a monster cock," you said.

"Shut up," she pushed you playfully.

“It’s always the nerds,” Wanda giggled.

"Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come?" Wanda asked sincerely.

"I'm sure," you smiled.

"Steve's gonna miss you," Nat teased.

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"Well, stay safe, cutie," the girls waved heading to the Uber that waited outside for them.

"You too!"

You sighed before grabbing more snacks to stuff your face with. A couple hours went by of sitting around watching nonsense on TV for a bit. You ate dinner that was far from fine dining but it was available before slouching on your bed until the late hours of the night.

You were practically falling asleep, tired and dry eyes glued to the screen of your small TV when you got a knock at the front door. You check the clock by your bed wondering if maybe either of the girls left their keys, but it wasn’t even midnight yet.

You clutched your phone walking hastily to the front door as quietly as possible creeping up to the peehole to see who would be your unexpected guest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you swung the door open.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve retorted.

“My jamas,” you rolled eyes stepping to side to let him in.

“Seriously what are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier, you didn’t come tonight so I came to you,” he said, taking his jacket off.

“Seriously?” you tried not to smile, but the action gave you butterflies.

“You promised to come. I missed you,” he said walking up to you.

“You’re so full of shit,” you giggled, staring at his devilishly handsome grin.

“Come on, whatcha doing?” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you to the room. You three had a fairly small apartment and your light was obviously the only one on in the whole apartment making it easy for him.

“Well, before you rudely invaded my home, I was stuffing my face with all kinds of junk watching TV,” you said to him making him scowl playfully at you.

“Well, then let’s finish the rest of your junk food then,” he said laying on your bed. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the sudden shift in attention. Steve was a guy who could have anyone and he’s chasing you for some reason.

You weren’t a blonde bombshell with a perfect hourglass figure that made guys want you left and right. You had flaws that drew people away and you don’t think Steve remembers that night like you do. What if he hates your body? What if he thinks you're annoying and suddenly leaves?

“Everything alright?” Steve asked you.

“Uh, sorta,” you answered honestly.

“Come here, talk to me,” he said, opening his arms. You couldn't help your eyes narrowing at him.

“What?”

“Do you even remember anything from that night?” you whispered.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.

“Steve, come on,” you chuckled.

“What?”

“Do you just wanna fuck now? Make it quick so you can go back to the party-”

“Woah, who said anything about fucking?” he stood up towering over you making you suddenly feel really small and shy.

“I mean that’s why you’re here, right?”

“I came because I told you if you didn't go out with us that I was gonna hang with you. I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you. If you really want I can go home but I wanted to hang out with you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, I- uh,” you stuttered; well now you feel like a dick.

“We can just sit and keep watching TV until you want to go to sleep and I can head out,” he said, sitting back down on your bed. You sat beside him carefully watching his movements. He kept his eyes trained on the TV for a bit before locking his eyes with yours. You turned away quickly hearing him chuckle before sudden movement escalated behind.

Steve grabbed you from behind gently and leaned back so you laid on his chest. You could feel the hard plains of muscles on your back. And the way his strong wrapped perfectly around your waist, it felt heavenly.

Steve’s jaw tightened from the hypnotizing scent of your shampoo. He remembered it from that night not long ago and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He wasn't going to lie, since that night all he could think about was how smooth your skin was under his fingertips. How pretty you sounded when he was settled between your legs. How good it felt when your fingers carded through his hair. He wanted you so bad.

He wanted to wake you up between your thighs again. Ravish you once more before breakfast, hell eat you for breakfast. But when you weren't there sleeping as peacefully beside him like the night before, his heart tugged. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? What if he hurt you?

He gave you space, clearly evident you hadn't wanted to talk to him but those few days went by and the same lingering stares and shy glances came back again and he craved you in his arms again.

When Nat asked him and Bucky to invite you again out to party, he really wanted to be with you that night even if you didn't end the night naked in each other's arms, just being around you was enough for him. Fortunately here he is with you, with arms wrapped around your waist and Steve couldn’t be happier.

You looked so fucking adorable to wearing sweats and a hoodie; he wishes it was one of his own. You had fluffy socks on too that had dog faces on them and he swears his heart melted. What you two were watching was making you laugh and each chuckle or giggle that came from you was like music to his ears.

He couldn’t help himself when his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your body momentarily froze before relaxing again in his arms. Your arms laid over his and tightened so you could cuddle into him even more. Your eyes felt heavy and the feeling of Steve’s lips slowly reaching your neck didn’t help you want to sleep.

When his cool lips grazed your burning skin, you could feel your skin burst into chills. You practically shuddered in his arms and your face grew hot when you did. It all becomes suddenly overwhelming and you jump off on his lap turning to him with a distressed expression.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Steve said worriedly.

“You did just want to sleep with me,” you mumbled tears forming in your eyes.

“What! No, that’s not it,” he panicked; using you was the last thing he wanted you to think he was doing, and wanted in general.

“Then what’s going with you? Ever since we fucked you’re suddenly attached to me, putting your hands all over me, pretending like you're my boyfriend! And I don’t understand why,” you said frustrated.

“I feel like your just using me or something-”

“That is the last thing I want,” he interrupted, his voice low.

“Then why are you doing this; Steve you could have anybody and for some fucking sick reason you keeping mocking me. Making me think I have a chance.”

“And you don’t think you do?” he asked, heart broken, making you scoff and turn away.

“Look, fine I’ll admit that maybe before that night I wouldn’t have made a move; but I’m gonna admit that I haven’t not felt something for you before,” he said, getting closer to you.

“What?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night didn’t do shit to help me get over you,” he chuckled.

You crawled to him carefully looking into his eyes for any sign that he was being untruthful; you cupped his face gently.

“Are you drunk?” you whispered.

“Not one bit.”

You pressed your lips to his feverishly and Steve nearly moaned at the feeling. His hands grasped your waist firmly pulling you to sit comfortably on his lap. His hands crept under your hoodie holding you close.

Your hands rested on his broad shoulders holding yourself up as slowly leaned back onto your pillows. Your cold hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss and his hand went to rest on your bottom.

With this new found position, his chest pressed against yours, his hips grinded up allowing you to feel all of him. Every pushing second you grew needier and whiny, practically clawing at his shirt to feel his skin.

"So needy already. And I've hardly touched you," he chuckled lowly in your ear.

He sat up nonetheless and stripped his shirt revealing his gorgeous physique that kept you up at night and infiltrated your dirtiest dreams. You brushed your hands all over his chest with your bottom lip between your teeth; Steve smirking slightly proud of the effect he had on you simply by having his shirt off.

"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you too," he's whispered before kissing you softly.

"Wait, I don't…" you didn't particularly feel very sexy and instantly became insecure about your body compared to Steve's.

"It's ok, we can cuddle," he smiled.

"Well, if I'm being honest I do want you. It's just, I just ate all this junk food and I'm not wearing anything sexy. I didn't shave and-"

"Hey, I don't care. You don't need to impress me or wear anything special for me. I just want you to look pretty sitting on my face and make pretty sounds telling me how I'm gonna make you feel."

Your body trembled at his words, arousal instantly flooding from you. His nose brushed against your cheek dragging along to your jawline before pressing kisses gingerly to your jaw and neck. His hands slowly lifted your hoodie and you raised your hands letting him remove your hoodie.

Your shoulders caved in out of habit, being topless in front of handsome men wasn't normally on your schedule; but the look in Steve's eyes, the look on his face holding a hungry and adorning expression made you more comfortable, reaching out to cup his face kissing him deeply.

You sighed breathlessly into the kiss as Steve's hands rubbed your sides. You pulled away momentarily only to put your lips on Steve's neck. Steve felt himself growing harder and needier to see you, feel you, pleasure you.

"Pretty girl, I need you. Lemme taste you, please," he whined.

He picked you up and laid down on your back to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You lifted your hips for him and he smiled cheekily at you biting his lip. Steve lifted your leg kissing the inside of your calf staring at with those hungry eyes.

"I still wanna see you sitting on my face, pretty girl," Steve said, pulling to him.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna crush you or anything," you whispered, making Steve chuckle.

Steve laid down assuring you that he wanted this and grabbed your hand helping you straddle his face. When you did Steve kissed the inside of your thighs playfully nipping and marking the sensitive skin making you gasp.

Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing your center impossibly close to him, finally licking a long and wet stripe up your slit. Your moans were soft at first but when Steve started circling his tongue around your clit, you could help getting louder and bucking your hips grinding on his face.

Steve’s eyes were close relishing in your sex. You combed your fingers through his hair and Steve moaned loudly against your pussy. He dipped his tongue past your folds and that along with the vibrations from his beautiful moans, you head threw back moaning in pure ecstasy, moaning so loud your neighbors were definitely going to file a complaint.

“Fuck, Steve. Your mouth feels so good; shit!” you whined.

His tongue circled your clit again quicker this time and you bucked your hips, tightening your stomach and squeezing your legs as you approached your high. Steve kneaded the soft flesh of your ass lapping up everything you gave him.

Steve crawled from under you as you held onto the headboard, still standing on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Steve came up behind you rubbing your hips softly, kissing the back of your neck softly. He quickly rid the remaining of his clothes he still wore, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach desperate for some sort of attention.

You breathe softly, hyper focused on the cum that slipped down your inner thighs. Your legs lightly trembled from just his mouth you couldn’t wait to feel what his cock would feel like, filling you up like it was only a week ago. Steve sat beside you looking at you with a soft smile on his face, his hand softly rubbing the back of your legs and your bottom too.

He reached around to grab your hip and slowly turned you around settling you between his legs; your back pressed against his chest as it was only moments before, more innocently than now. His lips sucked and kissed your neck as his hands cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts.

Your hands rested over his own and your hips squirmed a bit for eagerness. The low growl from Steve because your hips grinded against his cock was incredibly arousing.

“Such an eager little slut ain't cha’,” he grabbed your hair.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as he pushed you forward on your hands and knees.

“Want me to fuck you? Remind you how I felt buried so fucking deep inside you? God, I think about you every fucking night; how perfect you were wrapped around me, how beautiful you sounded underneath me,” he whispered huskily in your ear making you shudder.

“Stevie, please,” you whimpered.

His hands rubbed up and down your back as he chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to take care of you again, pretty girl,” he kissed your back softly.

He wrapped his hand around his cock slowly and languidly pumping it. He couldn’t help but tease slightly circled his tip along your entrance pulling desperate whines from you. He finally reached his own breaking point, unable to stand not being able to feel you so he pushed his hips forward moaning loudly at how tight you felt around him.

“So good, pretty girl,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Stevie. Filling me up so good; you’re so big,” you sighed.

“Damn right, pretty girl. Taking my cock so well. Fucking made for me,” he grunted.

His snapped in and out increasingly quicker with each thrust; the vulgar sounds of his movements and skin slapping against each other echoed loudly in the room. Harmonizing with both your pleasurable moans.

Chasing both your releases, Steve’s hips jerked rougher and harder in and out of you making you practically shriek at the feeling. He leaned forward wrapping his hand around your throat before pulling you flush against his chest.

“Such pretty baby,” he bit your ear.

“Fuck! Stevie I need to come,” you whined.

“Yeah, you want to come all over my cock? Make a fucking mess?” he growled.

“Please!”

“Hold on, pretty girl. I’m almost there,” he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.

You whined and whimpered, tears brimming your eyes from that overwhelming feeling. You couldn’t help but clench hard around his cock desperately holding back for your release.

“Fuck, do that again, pretty girl,” Steve gasped.

“God, yes. I’m close, pretty girl. You ready to come?” he pulled your head back to look at your face.

Tears fell inelegantly down your cheeks, sweat lined your forehead, your chest moved rapidly up and down; to Steve, you looked ethereal.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Let go, pretty girl. I gotcha,” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes rolled back as your body shook against Steve’s, releasing onto his dick profoundly. Steve swallowed your louds moans, roughly pressing his lips to yours, moaning himself. You clenched hard around Steve one last time feeling his throbbing cock shoot hot ribbons of cum, coating your walls.

When you eased your way slowly down from your high, Steve laid you down gently pulling out to see his cum mixed with yours spilling from you. You looked so fucked out breathing heavily, whimpering at the loss of Steve inside you. He wanted to, but held back from taking you again. But not wanting to hurt you, he treaded towards the bathroom and turned on the water to run you two a hot bath. He picked you up gently pressing kisses all over your face and neck before planting one delicious kiss on your lips; your hands reaching around his neck to deepen it if that was even possible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, coating your arms with soap to wash you. You laid against him with your eyes closed desperately trying not to fall asleep in his arms.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.

“Mh-m,” you shook your head slightly with a blissful smile on your face.

“Good,” he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely audibly.

“For coming to hang out with me tonight,” you chuckled. Your eyes felt too heavy, simply remembering the way he carried you carefully back to your bed and held for the rest of the night.

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