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little-annie · 4 months

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Just Another Steddie Christmas Fic

The roads are shit and when Eddie finally decides to pull over and find somewhere to stay for the night, him and Steve find themselves shivering in a shared bed of a janky ass motel.

I can't imagine what that scenario might bring.

@steddieobsessed I hope this fic finds you well ✨️ Happy Holidays

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---

It's chaos, but it always is in the moments coming up to a road trip. And the fact that it's also Christmas break doesn't help.

Steve's ready, he has been since last week. Bags packed, gifts wrapped and assignments submitted. The only thing he has to do now is get dressed and head out the door.

But Eddie on the other hand…

Well, Eddie's the embodiment of chaos.

Eddie for the last month has been raving about Christmas but hasn't bothered to take a minute and think about what all it entails. He's called Dustin and the rest of the gang to make sure they're ready for the one shot he's taken the time to prepare, but otherwise?

Otherwise his gifts aren't wrapped, his clothes aren't packed and he's all but forgotten about his assignments. Now he's anxious and flitting around the apartment like a twitchy cat trying to gather his bearings before they leave for Hawkins. He's muttering to himself as he tries to do all three tasks at once and while Steve's enjoying the last few bites of his late day snack, sat at the kitchen table in nothing but his pyjamas, he can't help but feel obligated to help.

“Ed,” Steve starts, abandoning his Cheerios and pushing his chair out with a quiet scrape against the floor, trying to gain his friend's attention while he watches the man pace and struggle between what needs to be done next. Eddie's in the living room now, an empty duffle bag in front of him, a pile of unwrapped gifts next to him and a textbook clutched so tightly in his hand his knuckles have paled.

“Eddie,” Steve repeats as he ventures closer, floor creaking below his feet before grabbing the metalhead by the shoulder and squeezing until he turns to look him in the eyes, “Tell me what you need me to do.”

He can feel Eddie tense under his grasp, but only for a moment, his breathing slowing as he allows their eyes to linger. After a few short seconds and one deeply inhaled and grounding breath, Steve watches as the tension leaves Eddie's shoulders, and he leans into the touch while asking, “Gifts?”

Gifts. He can do that.

Offering a gentle smile and giving Eddie's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Steve nods, “Gifts.”

—

After wrapping six presents and helping the man pack his bag too, Steve eventually finds himself in the passenger seat of Eddie's van. Soon enough it's nothing but Metallica, grey skies and shitty roads from there on in.

It's a route they've regularly travelled but come winter time, it never seems to be any easier. They've lived in Chicago for what feels like ages, having moved together to attend college in 87’ and yet every year they never seem to leave enough time. Every year it's either shitty roads, poor timing or a combination of the both and well, this year….

—-

“You're sure the roads are fine?” Steve asks Eddie for the twelfth time in the last two hours, worrying the inside of his cheek as he glances between a far too confident friend and the obviously not great roads ahead of them.

The pair are on their way to the Hopper- Byer’s home for Christmas, The Party and all other family members having planned on staying at the couple's large, government funded ranch house for a couple days. But that's if they arrive at all. Sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie's beat up van, Steve watches as a winter storm swirls outside casting the already fading light of the now evening sky a gloomier shade of grey. It's obvious there's ice on the roads, it rained just last night and they haven't seen a single plough truck along their journey. And if that's not enough evidence, the way the van sways uncontrollably every several miles is.

But Eddie's confident. Apparently.

If it was Steve driving he would have called it quits no more than a few miles out of Chicago, but no, his car’s in the shop and if they had to take Eddie's van back to Hawkins, Eddie would drive. He insisted upon the matter in fact, stating rather dramatically, ‘I am the only man this van will ever know behind her wheel and no one else.’

So here they are. And Steve's nervous… and maybe a little bitchy.

He's even more nervous as Eddie doesn't answer and only clutches the wheel tighter as the van starts to drift sideways, edging them closer and closer to the ditch.

Instinctually Steve reaches for Eddie, clasping a hand over his thigh and holding on for dear life. He's sure he'll leave bruises, fingerprints branded into skin that he'll think about at a later hour, but at the moment he doesn't really care, he just hopes they'll make it back for Christmas in one piece.

Soon enough though the vehicle's righted and moving down the highway as it should be. Though that doesn't mean Steve's grip loosens on Eddie's leg.

“Steve…” Eddie says quietly, voice comforting but lingering with something like a question.

It isn't until Eddie moves a hand from the wheel to lay over Steve's and give a gentle squeeze that he clues into his still iron grip on Eddie's leg.

“Shit,” Steve pulls back with a quiet, embarrassed huff, “Sorry.”

“You're alright,” Eddie grins, shooting Steve a dimpled smile before he reaches for the map to hand to Steve, “Roads are quiet shit though, you wanna try to find a place for the night and see how roads look in the morning?”

Yes. God, yes.

Steve's already unfolding the map before he can even get it entirely out of Eddie's hand. He'd do nearly anything to get off of these roads.

“We have time?” Steve asks, truthfully not caring if they're late for Christmas if that means they'll survive the trek back home. Joyce won't mind, the kids might be livid but they'll understand. He just has to remember to call them when they find a place to stay.

“Quit your worrying.” Eddie reminds him for what feels like the hundredth time, “We'll be fine. Plus, we left a day early anyways, didn't we?”

—

Twenty minutes and one more scary slide down the highway later, the boys find themselves standing at the reception desk of a questionable looking motel. Eddie claimed the place had ‘character,’ while Steve was adamant it was just generally creepy. But if by ‘character,’ he meant, ‘looks like a place you go to get syphilis, drugs and die of a gunshot all in one night,’ well then sure, Eddie's right on the money.

Standing in the lobby, lights flickering above head and pipes groaning in the walls, Steve tries his hardest to look anywhere but the poorly done taxidermy that litters the panelled expanse of the room. He's already called Joyce and has been reprimanded by Eddie for getting snippy with the lady at the front desk, so now he has no choice but to hang back or wander.

A variety of stuffed woodland creatures all seem dead set on staring at him while he does so, but one particular deer in the corner somehow seemingly maintaining eye contact wherever he is in the space, doesn't help the creepy factor one bit. If anything the unwanted attention and the flickering lights seem to set his nerves on fire for all the wrong reasons, but with a clench in his jaw and a want to reach out for Eddie, Steve has to remind himself that the Upside Down is long gone and Vecna is dead. Things can be creepy and lights can flicker without any ulterior motive.

The old gal working the desk isn't much better. Teeth few and far between, Mary-Sue, according to her name tag, somehow manages to keep an eye on them both at the same time. One milky and wandering, seems to follow Steve while the other remains locked onto Eddie as they continue to visit and she hands over the single room key, the nub of a rabbit's foot hanging from its small silver chain.

After they give their thanks and Mary-Sue nearly dies of a coughing fit, they find their way out of the lobby. The rickety door and Mary-Sue’s parting words cracking through the blustery air behind them, “Don't enjoy the room too much boys! I'll be bringing by fresh sheets in the morning!��

—

“Of course she thought we were together ” Eddie grumbles under his breath while he tries the key in the door. This particular topic has been an ongoing conversation since the old gals parting remark as they left the lobby. The insinuation of them messing the sheets together had Steve blushing for reasons he's not willing to admit aloud, while Eddie did nothing but cackle his way to the van to get their bags. “Steve, we’re two dudes looking for a room late at night. What do you think she thought?”

“I don't know,” Steve huffs back, breath coming out frosty in the night air while he tries to go through the interaction in his mind. They hadn't been overly close, sure maybe Eddie pinched his hip when he was getting bitchy over all of Mary-Sue's questions, but they weren't hanging off of each other. They're just two guys who needed somewhere to sleep out the storm. Sure, maybe the idea isn't far off from Steve's own late night fantasies but it's not like it's going to happen. Just because Eddie's interested in men doesn't mean he's interested in him. He huffs again, adjusting his freezing grip on his duffle bag before he continues, “That we needed a room for the night.”

Shouldering the door open Eddie barks out a laugh, “Hah! Yeah, sure, Big Boy.”

When they're in the room, door shut, shitty weather behind them and bags dropped to the floor, Eddie turns on the light to reveal the room and what Steve would describe as its horror. The carpet’s a yellowed beaten down shag that shows every commonly followed route in the room, a definite trail from the door to the bed and the bed to what he assumes to be the bathroom. The walls are wood panelling that's in surprisingly decent condition, not unlike the lobby, though the ceiling is anything but perfect, off white and stained with cigarette smoke, water damage and a browning splatter that Steve refuses to think any deeper about… He just hopes if someone was murdered in the room, they at least changed the sheets.

Eddie only takes a moment of pause before plopping down onto the single double bed in the middle of the room, falling backwards onto the comforter and letting out a loud groan as he stretches out, not unlike a cat.

Steve, albeit hesitantly, settles down next to him, leaning back on his elbows, trying adamantly to ignore the way Eddie's shirt has ridden up and the sharp edges of his hips jut out above his belt line. It's become a problem in the last few years, his eyes finding every intriguing part of Eddie's body to ogle, and sometimes he does just that, but for right now he pulls his eyes away and forces them to focus on the ceiling.

It's quiet only for a moment.

“You know,” Eddie starts, rolling onto his side to face Steve, propping himself up on an elbow as the bed creaks under his movements, “at the very least she probably thought you were a hooker.”

“Me?” Steve laughs, disbelieving, giving Eddie a shove to the centre of his chest until he's flat on his back again, “a hooker? Why me?”

Covering his face with his hands Eddie lets out a breathy laugh, mumbling a hardly audible, “Jesus H. Christ,” before he turns his head to give Steve a flat look, resting his hands across his partly exposed stomach. “Really? Why would the pretty boy in the too-tight jeans be the hooker?”

Steve can't help but feel a heat spread through his cheeks as he nods, it's not uncommon for Eddie to call him pretty, but still, it gets him every time. Makes him feel warm and fuzzy and maybe wish Eddie were calling him sweet nicknames in a different setting. One maybe a little more intimate. At that thought and the images it brings to his mind, Steve bites his lip to smother the smile that wants to break free and waits for Eddie to continue with another nod.

“Steve,” Eddie starts, cheeks pinkening and eyes searing as his gaze never breaks, “let's just say, I'd easily drop this month's rent and more for a night in bed with you.”

Jesus H. Christ is right. Fuck. At Eddie's words Steve can't help but to feel the spread of heat that floods through his veins, spreading from his cheeks to his chest and further south. He coughs into his fist and pulls his eyes away, telling himself Eddie's just joking. He has to be joking.

“Sure,” Steve eventually settles with, voice a touch shakey, now refusing to meet Eddie's eye as he counts the dots of the very possible blood splatter on the ceiling and decides to play along with whatever this game is that Eddie's got going. "You're better looking than I am, first of all.” Steve smirks, seeing Eddie's attention turn to him from the corner of his eye, “You have that whole hot bad boy thing going on. Plus, you took charge of that entire situation when we checked in. I hardly got a word in, then you pinched me when I got bitchy like it was a punishment. No, Eddie,” Steve shrugs, refusing to stop but also already beginning to regret what all he plans to say next, “you're some hot Dom, that rich assholes pay a shit ton of money to, to just step on their balls.”

At least he makes the effort to say rich assholes instead of I.

That has to count for something, right?

God, what's he doing? What the fuck did he just say?

Aside from Eddie's sharply sucked in breath, the room's eerily quiet after that. Both of them unmoving, refusing to look at one another. He sees Eddie open and close his mouth like he's trying to say something but nothing ever comes. Steve's sure he can feel the heat coming off of Eddie's body from the few inches away that he is. Maybe he caught on, maybe Steve wasn't subtle enough. Maybe Eddie's laying there regretting the idea of getting a room for the night. A room where Steve's just now clueing into the fact that they'll have to share a bed, because lord knows what they'd catch from the carpet if one of them slept on the floor. God, they're going to have to share a bed.

Nothing ever comes. Eddie says nothing and Steve stays silent. The tension is thick and awkward, heavy in the stale air as they both refuse to speak any further.

That is until a loud moan nearly rattles the walls, the creaking of a bed frame following, along with the smacking of a headboard meeting the wall adjacent to theirs. They can't help but burst into laughter as Larry, according to the screams from next door, blows out someone's back.

They're snorting and crying by the time it subsides. Steve having sat up, chest hurting from raucous laughter and Eddie having moved so his head’s hidden in Steve's thigh, the light wash denim now wet with tears as Eddie continues to shake and wheeze, eventually huffing between giggles and hiccups, “W-who d-do you think the h-hooker is over there?”

Steve snorts again, giving Eddie another shove that nearly sends him to the disease riddled floor.

—

An hour later they find themselves sitting in bed, backs against a headboard that's thankfully silent on the other side, shoulders brushing as they get comfortable. It'd taken a while to fully calm down after their giggle fit and still, after such a break in tension Steve felt a heat lingering in his core. So much so that he had to brave the rusty shower to deal with his problem. The smoke stained mirror, yellowed walls and piss poor water pressure did nothing to quell his need. He'd jerked off in record time and couldn't even be bothered to feel bad about it when he's sure Eddie did the same not more than five minutes later; if the choked off moan he heard from the bathroom was anything to go by.

There's still tension between them, but at least it's dissipated since their mutual, not so mutual, relief. Plus, the chill in the room doesn't really help to set a mood. Now that they're still and not all hot and bothered, the room's actually pretty damn cold. Eddie took a look at the radiator and when nothing worked he resorted to kicking it several times, only being granted a hiss from it in return. Now they're bundled up in sweaters and sweatpants, shuffling closer and closer together to steal one another's warmth. They, against Steve's better judgement, even got under the covers, pulling the comforter up to their chins as they searched the TV for a functional channel. So far the only one that seemed to be clear enough was a porno and well, after the earlier events of the evening, there's no way they were going to watch that. Which means they settled on a staticy Christmas episode of Golden Girls instead. If anything it really just provides a sound buffer to the room, it's not like they can see enough between the snowballing to understand what's going on anyways.

Eventually, even through the cold, the fear of bed bugs and the hiss of static from the TV, Steve begins to doze off. Eyes heavy and consciousness fading, he hardly registers when Eddie gets up to shut off the lights and TV, crawling back into bed to settle onto his back next to Steve. At some point apparently Steve had slumped down to the pillow from the headboard, its fabric rough and scratchy against his cheek.

He's been fighting to keep his eyes open, lashes fluttering open every few minutes to catch Eddie's profile illuminated by the lights in the parking lot that shine through the cracked window. He can't help but smile when Eddie rolls onto his side and lets their eyes meet as he whispers, “Go to sleep, Stevie.”

“M’ not tired,” Steve mumbles back, blinking slowly as he looks over Eddie's features. The darkness of his eyes, the fullness of his lips and the way his mouth curves as he sleepily smiles. He looks so soft in the light breaking into the room, the warm light like sunshine across his face. He looks so soft and warm. Pulling Steve's attention away from the man across from him, there's a loud gust of wind from outside that seems to send a breeze through the room forcing him to shiver again from the chill in the air. Pulling the blankets up high and burrowing deeper, he complains, “Too cold to sleep.”

Eddie offers nothing more than a hum in response before he's reaching for Steve and pulling him into his chest. It's almost instant relief and the complaint on the tip of Steve's tongue dies the moment he feels Eddie's arm tighten around him.

He can allow himself this right? If not for the fact that he's closer to Eddie than he ever has been, than for the sake of warmth and a moderate night's sleep. Steve hums in agreement with himself and presses closer to Eddie's chest, feeling the man's heartbeat on his cheek and the wrap of legs around his own as they become impossibly closer.

Sleep finds Steve easily soon after, the feeling of Eddie's body pressed against his own following him into his dreams.

—

***

With nothing but heat and hands and pressure wrapping around him, Steve lets the timber of Eddie's voice penetrate his skin. Words like honey in their sweetness, “Look at you Stevie, being such a Good Boy for me.”

He feels nothing and everything all at once, though it's never enough, but the touch is what he believes Eddie's hands to feel like against his skin. Warm, rough and smooth in all the right places, grabbing and pulling everywhere that it's needed.

“Such a Pretty Boy. So full.”

Steve can feel himself whine, his sleeping body pushing against the solid pressure at his backside.

He wants. He needs so bad.

“Eddie,” he feels himself gasp into the air, voice naught but desperately begging.

All he can see is light, all he can feel is love and warmth and a pressure building inside of his core that's nearing unbearable.

He wishes he could taste. The dream version of himself wanting very little more than to sink his teeth into the pale flesh he's dreamt about for years.

Into the man he's dreamt about for years.

…

***

—

Steve never does reach the end of his dream, the chill of the night and the hands tight on his body, pulling him just close enough to the cusp of consciousness that the images fade and refuse to return.

He's left with nothing but need and desire remaining in his bones as he wiggles around in bed. At some point he'd rolled over only to have Eddie pull him back against his chest, hot breath against his back and a tight grip around his waist.

Until morning he remains dead to the world and his (aside from Eddie) less than ideal surroundings.

—

Waking the next morning Steve first notices two things.

1. He's in a bed in a horribly disgusting hotel room that looks like the set of some horror film.

2. He's in a bed in a horribly disgusting hotel room that looks like the set of some horror film… and he's not alone.

And then all at once he becomes aware of a few more things.

The weight at his back and the arm around his waist, the warm heat of breath at the nape of his neck and the solid line of what he's rapidly realising is Eddie's hard dick pressed firmly against his ass.

With a sharp breath so many visions appear in Steve's mind. So many questions and a few concerns. He thinks back to his dreams of last night, of their conversation from yesterday and how he wishes it would have gone differently. He thinks about how Dream Steve had the courage to push past the tension and awkwardness and how he ended the night nude, sweaty and nearly sated. He wonders if Eddie even realises he's cuddling him, a strong arm around his waist with a nose buried in his neck. He wonders if Eddie's awake and knows he's hard and pressed so close. He wonders if when Eddie does wake if he'll go rigid and shy away or if he'll grab Steve tighter and pull him all the more closer.

He wonders what any of that could mean for them and this thing that for months, maybe even years, has been toeing the line of something.

Mind going in a million different directions, Steve's too preoccupied to even notice the way he subtly rocks his hips back. As if driven entirely by animal instinct, he bites his lip and does it again, letting a soft gasp escape his lips.

He only clues into the fact when Eddie grumbles from behind him, shifting his hand from Steve's waist to the naked edge of his hip where his sweater has ridden up and pulls Steve closer, rocking his own hips forward to meet Steve's motions. His hard cock shielded by thin layers of cotton sliding against Steve's ass.

Into the cold air of the room, Steve breathes a hardly audible, “Fuck,” and presses back once again. Maybe Eddie just stirred in his sleep, maybe he's dreaming and Steve's in the right place at the right time or maybe….

Eddie's grip on his hip tightens and Steve has to swallow the groan that tries to escape as Eddie's pulls him against his cock again, pressing his hips forward as he lets a heavy, jagged breath fall to the nape of Steve's neck, hot and damp where it falls as he says Steve's name like it's a question and a prayer.

At the confirmation that Eddie's awake, Steve can't help but push back further, feeling the grind of Eddie's dick against his ass as he bends his arm back to pull Eddie's lips closer to his neck, a hand tight in messy curls, desperate to keep him close.

That, along with the breathy, begging, “Don't you dare stop,” that leaves Steve's lips seems to be confirmation enough for Eddie as well. Steve's hardly able to finish his sentence before Eddie's mouthing at what he can reach of his neck, cutting off Steve's words with a strangled gasp.

They rock back and forth meeting each other's movements, Eddie's grip punishing on Steve's hip as Steve's is in his hair. The air of the room is quickly growing hot and polluted with the sounds of gasping breaths.

The only friction Steve's dick is granted is the wet drag of his precome dampened sweatpants and it's quickly coming to be not enough. He needs more. So much more. A hand, a mouth, whatever Eddie's willing to offer. It's after Eddie pulls him back again and whines into his neck that Steve finally asks.

“Touch me. Touch me, please.”

He can feel Eddie's smile against his skin as he answers, voice low and raspy from sleep, “Such good manners, Sweetheart.”

The bruising grip on his hip disappears only for Steve to feel the motion of Eddie's hand sliding beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. It's tight and warm when Eddie takes him in hand, his hips still rocking against Steve's ass as he squeezes and slowly drags his thumb over Steve's leaking tip.

And that's when Eddie starts talking.

“Never thought we'd get this far. Thought I'd just have to jack off to the thought of you beneath me for the rest of my life.”

Steve whines at the words, the thought of Eddie getting off to the idea of fucking him and the all encompassing everything that surrounds him.

“But look at you, Sweetheart, being such a Good Boy, using your manners, grinding that beautiful ass against me until I wake up.”

Eddie picks up his motions, rolling his wrist and smearing the slick leaking from Steve's dick down the rest of his length, not stopping until he's able to reach Steve's balls and squeeze until Steve keens and arches his back against Eddie as he continues to whisper against his neck.

“Let me guess Stevie… you're the rich asshole that'd pay for me to step on your balls? Hm?”

Emphasising his question with a mind numbing squeeze, Eddie rolls his hips again, rhythm stuttering as he bites Steve's neck and groans.

“Y-yes.” Steve stammers out, the edge of bliss quickly approaching when he decides to twist his neck and crash his lips into Eddie's.

“Yes,” he repeats again into the hardly there embrace that they're both messily clinging to. It's hardly a kiss and his neck already hurts but Steve can't get enough. They share breath and bond, spit messy between them, lips hardly meeting properly as they continue to rock against one another.

“Yes,” Steve repeats again, but for an entirely different reason, voice wrecked and letters swallowed by Eddie's tongue. He's so close to his release that when Eddie surges forward and bites his lip he can't help but topple for the edge. Hips stuttering as Eddie's hand finds his cock again and strokes him until it's edging on just too much.

Then not a moment later, no rhythm to be found and hand back to laying a brand on Steve's hip, Eddie grinds against him one last time before he shudders and breathes profanities over his tongue.

As the seconds after pass, breathes heavy and air thick, they never part and their grip hardly eases, though Steve does turn just a touch more so it's easier to reach Eddie's lips with his own. This time though as their breathing slows and their heartbeats settle, it's not as ravenous or as animalistic. It's slow, gentle, unhurried as if they have all the time in the world. Steve doesn't even have the mind to worry about what's next because this part feels easiest. The way they stay, the way they linger and tease and smile and kiss like it's something they've done a million times before.

Eventually after an unfathomable amount of time has passed and they've shared kisses and cuddles and softly spoken words, they make their way to the shower, Eddie slapping Steve's bare ass along the way.

It's awful in so many ways, the floor has rust spots and the space is hardly large enough for one man, let alone two, but they make do. It's cramped and the only way they manage to stand is in each other's arms. Eddie's around Steve's waist as he rinses him clean and Steve's around Eddie's when he does the same.

The water pressure is pathetic, and the temperature’s anything but warm, but still they stay. They let their lips press together as the water falls around them and they feel the warmth of one another's body against their own.

They tease and let lips and mouths and fingers wander. Even in the small space Eddie manages to get Steve gasping again, this time with two fingers in his mouth and one in his ass as Eddie ruts against him promising all of the vile things he'll do to him when they're somewhere safer, somewhere cleaner, somewhere that feels more like home.

When they're rinsing off for the second time, water cold as it falls to their flushed skin they can't help but giggle over the ridiculousness of it all. Sure they finally got together, pulled their heads out of their asses, but you'd think it'd have happened somewhere like their home, the apartment they've shared for years and not some horrific motel.

They dress and gather their things, hands roaming freely as they pass one another and lips meeting in soft presses when the time allows. They laugh and they giggle and they call each other idiots, because duh, how could they not have caught onto one another's flirting over the years.

When they decide to brave the cold they're greeted with blue skies and the promise of a safer drive back to Hawkins.

Eddie's hardly out of the door when he trips, finding himself caught in Steve's grasp as he notices the folded sheets sitting on the ground in front of their door with a note pinned to the top that reads, ‘You sounded a little busy. Figured I'd leave you to your fun. ♡ Mary-Sue’

Eddie snorts a laugh, pockets the note and picks up the sheets while Steve flushes red and hides his face in the back of Eddie's neck.

—

They check out, leaving the fresh sheets on the countertop with parting a wink from Mary-Sue and a coupon for the diner down the road.

It's noon before they manage to leave town, but when they do their bellies are full and their hearts are happy.

—

Over the next few hours they make their way to Hawkins, stopping occasionally for gas, snacks or if Steve has anything to do with it, a very impromptu make out session.

Like right now.

Sure the tension had finally snapped between them, but now that Steve was allowed to touch, allowed to do all of the things his dirty little mind had conjured in the last few years, he wasn't going to waste any time.

They'd pulled over a few times already for Steve to climb into Eddie's lap and kiss him stupid, but now he had a little more on his mind.

It'd started with an innocent hand on Eddie's thigh that climbed higher and higher as time went on until Steve could brush a knuckle against the inseam of Eddie's jeans.

And from there, aside from the skidding stop Eddie made into a gas station parking lot, they made their way to the back of the van. Eddie had thrown the vehicle into park only to grab Steve by the hand and pull him with the force of a man starved into the back, crashing their lips together and unbuttoning their jeans with a blur of haste.

Duffle bags and Christmas gifts at their feet, they share breath and shuddered words, as their hands fly with intensity over one another's hardness. It takes no time at all for the spit they'd used as lube to be accompanied by a mess of white, their knuckles covered in a combination of their desperation until Steve licks Eddie's hand clean, along with his own.

Turns out, when they're as clean as they can manage and stumble out of the back of the van, they're in Hawkins. Or more specifically, the parking lot of the ratty gas station just across the town's limits.

Eddie snorts when they catch a familiar face wave at them from across the parking lot. Someone from high school, a jock Steve remembers from the basketball team and Eddie had probably known from his previous career as a drug dealer, surly visiting family of his own for the holidays. A man hopefully clueless to the events that just transpired in the back of the van.

Steve waves and reaches for Eddie's hand to drag him away before he can begin a conversation with the man. He knows if Eddie had the chance he'd happily shake the previous jock's hand with remnants of Steve's come dried to his palm, the sick fucker.

—

They wash their hands and straighten themselves out from the dishevelled messes they were in the restroom mirrors. Graffiti and odd memories from their past surround them in the oddly familiar space. Eddie having done many of drug deals between the four cinder block walls and Steve participating in other nefarious activities. Activities of which Steve can't help but giggle at while he watches Eddie sputter at the admittance.

Eddie snorts again, a trait Steve seems to love more and more every time he does it, while he looks back at Steve through the mirror, disbelief colouring his face, “You did not hook up with some chick in here. The poor girl. Steve. There's no way.”

Steve shrugs, fingers tracing over the colourful walls, while he wanders and nonchalantly admits, “Never said it was with a girl.”

He can hear Eddie pause, breath caught in his lungs before he lets out a shuddering breath and turns to Steve while leaning against the countertop, arms crossed over his chest before he whispers, more to himself than Steve, “Why's that so hot?”

Steve shrugs again but pauses his meaningless wandering to step closer to Eddie, their toes nearly touching as he invades the other man's space. Confidence he hadn't had a day ago flows through his veins like lava when he reaches out to take a chunk of Eddie's hair and twirls it between his fingers, pulling the man closer until their breaths are shared.

“Tell me,” Eddie whispers, words catching on Steve's lips as they lean closer together and his hands find Steve's hips, calloused fingers skimming beneath his shirt to press against warm skin.

It's so stupid, anyone could walk in, they're in a public space for God's sake. In Hawkins of all places. Not to mention that whoever walks through that door they'd probably know. But knowing that information only makes Steve press closer, the growing need in his pants pressed against Eddie's own as he answers back, voice so sultry it even makes him shiver.

“Gave my first blow job in that stall,” he says while nodding his head back to the stall in the corner, “Got my first from a guy in there too.”

Eddie swallows, already looking ravenous when Steve chances a glance, pupils blown so wide his eyes nearly look black.

“Let a guy fuck me too,” Steve adds, hips rolling forward while he nips at Eddie's bottom lip and ventures southward, licking at the man's pulse, continuing, “right against this counter.”

Steve's hands find the sharp edges of Eddie's hips and pull him impossibly closer, burying his face in the warmth of flushed skin just beneath Eddie's ear, when he adds, “Kinda wished it was you, even back then.”

Eddie groans and lets his head fall back further, exposing his neck all the more for Steve to bite at and rocking his hips forward to press into Steve's.

“Tell me more,” Eddie breathes into the air with the gentle command, one hand finding the back of Steve's head where ringed fingers weave into chestnut locks and grip tight, “Tell me what a slut you were, Sweetheart.”

Steve shudders and tries to not melt at Eddie's tone and the grip in his hair, he'd felt like he'd had the upper hand, but as he licks and laves at Eddie's skin and the grip in his hair grows tighter he can feel himself slipping.

“Liked the way he pulled my hair and made me watch in the mirror,” he shudders at the thought, picturing Eddie doing the same, “m’ and the way the countertop left bruises on my hips.”

Feeling like he's floating from the taste of Eddie's skin alone, Steve gasps when Eddie spins them around, turning Steve to face the mirror as he presses against his back, one hand tight in his hair, forcing him to look at their reflection just like Steve had imagined. Eddie's other hand reaches down, cupping Steve over his jeans and squeezing as he speaks against Steve's ear, maintaining eye contact through the mirror. “You want me to do that for you?” Eddie asks, his grip tightening at every point of contact as he continues, “Want me to bruise you up, Baby? Treat you like a whore and let you walk into Christmas all marked up?”

Steve tries to nod, vision blurring at the edges as it pulls at his hair more and his knees feel even weaker. “Yes,” he barely manages to breathe out, picturing the bruises on his hips, the marks from Eddie's teeth, forgetting entirely why they're in this restroom in the first place.

Feeling as though if Eddie were to let go he'd slide to the floor, Steve tries to lean back further, letting Eddie take more of his weight as he feels the rise and fall of the man's chest against his back.

God, he'd want nothing more.

He can feel Eddie emit something of a growl against his neck as he begins to pull at the tongue of Steve's belt, leather snapping and metal clanking in the emptiness of the room they occupy.

Eddie's hand is down Steve's underwear, grip nearly punishing when he feels the man speak against his ear again, “I'm gonna be-”

*BANG*

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” comes the sharp shriek of Robin's voice and for a minute Steve thinks he's in the middle of a nightmare. He and Eddie freeze as though if they don't move she can't see them, Eddie's one hand in Steve's underwear, fingers still holding him tight in hand and the other only barely loosening the grip in his hair.

“Oh my god,” they hear whispered from the doorway Robin's still standing in, the door she had aggressively flung open now sitting wide open for the world to see. “Like… woo, you got together after years of being idiots,” she coughs as the pair continue to remain still, “but um… Eddie, is your hand still in Steve's pants?”

All romance and heat sucked from the room, Steve can't help but snicker as Eddie pulls his hand free to rest on his stomach, his other hand soon following, both now only holding Steve close to his chest as he whispers sheepishly, “Not anymore.”

There's the unmistakable chime of Nancy's voice calling for Robin, soon followed by a giggle from the door that they can only assume now means Nancy's there too.

“Nice to see you two finally got together.” The young woman confirms her presence by adding to the conversation.

Eddie groans from behind him, letting his head fall to hide against Steve's shoulder, while he himself finally gains the energy to turn and look at the girls who appear far too giddy for what they just witnessed, “What are you even doing here? This is the men's room.”

Robin levels him with a look that says ‘you think I care, Dingus?’ as she carelessly strides into the restroom and lets a stall door fall shut behind her as Nancy remains at the entrance, shrugging as if she's gotten used to her girlfriends antics.

“I needed to pee and the ladies restroom was closed.” Robin says matter-of-factly, from behind the metal door as she does her business. “Wanna explain what you're doing in here?” Nancy raises a manicured brow to accompany the other woman's question and Steve can only imagine Robin's accusing expression.

“We-” he starts, only to be pulled closer by Eddie and feel a kiss to his shoulder before he's interrupted by the man, “Well, the plan was Steve, I'd have you know. But, thanks to your barging in, I'd say my chances of that are now less than zero, Buckley.”

Robin lets out a loud cackle as she flushes and re-emerges to wash her hands at the sink next to them, looking with a pointed brow from Steve to his still clearly undone pants. “Clean yourself up, Babe,” she tuts, “we're supposed to be at the Hopper-Byer’s in an hour.”

And with that she flicks her hands dry, finishing the job by flapping them as she walks to the door, spraying both men with water, until she yells, “Love you!” and leaves the door to slam shut behind her, Nancy most likely by her side giggling on their way back to the car.

Steve and Eddie stand there for a minute, Eddie's arms still around Steve's waist as he props his head on Steve's shoulder to look at him in the mirror.

Steve can't help but smile at the site, sure his pants are undone and they almost fucked in the Hawkins gas station restroom, but still, it's kinda sweet, kinda laughable, and all kinds ridiculous.

Eddie kisses his cheek and smiles back, whispering with mischief in his tone, “So, a bit of an exhibitionist are we, Sweetheart?”

“Shut up,” Steve huffs, lightly bunting Eddie's head with the side of his own.

“Makes sense,” Eddie says with a shrug, dark eyes glittering in their reflection, lips pulling into a bright smile as he kisses Steve's cheek again, “I'd presume most hookers are.”

—

Thirty minutes later they find themselves ambushed by hugs and wails of ‘Why weren't you here yesterday?!’ the kids being just as upset with their late arrival as Steve had guessed. But it's nice to be surrounded by family again otherwise, Joyce pulling both him and Eddie into a crushing hug, Hopper slapping them both on the shoulders and handing them a beer the moment they walk through the door and Wayne pulling Eddie into a hug only to whisper something in his ear that forces the man into a serious blush.

Across the room Robin sits in Nancy's lap where she, the moment no one's looking, makes the gesture of giving a blow job, forcing Nancy into a fit of giggles while she tries to pull Robin's hand away from her mouth.

Once the kids have finally bored themselves with giving both Steve and Eddie shit, Steve makes his way over to Robin, flicking her in the forehead when he reaches her, hissing, “You're a pain in my ass, you know that right?”

Robin stares at him for a moment, Nancy's arms snug around her waist again as her blue eyes dart to Steve's side where Eddie's appeared. The metalhead's ringed hand is warm where it gently settles at the small of Steve's back, only for him to notice the smirk Robin gives him as she hisses back, “No. But I bet Eddie is.”

It's Eddie's turn to flick Robin then, joining the conversation, “You know for a fact you interrupted that opportunity, Buckley.”

“So you weren't just standing in the mirror with your hand in Steve's pants?” Nancy decides to butt in, much to Robin's delight if the grin that spreads across her face is anything to go by.

Both boys refuse to answer knowing that if anything they can't win an argument against Nancy Wheeler.

But Robin looks like she hasn't even started, a menacing look on her face as she glances between the three around her, mouth opening to say lord knows what before Hopper's yelling over the chaos of the house, “Suppers ready shit birds!” Joyce's immediate scolding of her husband follows.

“You know,” Robin says, extracting herself from Nancy's lap, eyes still focused on Steve as she rises, “this doesn't mean you're off the hook. I want details, Dingus. All of them.”

“I don't think you do, Birdie,” Eddie chimes, singing his way out of the room, hand outstretched to pull Steve behind him.

“All. Of. Them.” Robin repeats with a concerning look, pinching Steve's side as she passes him into the kitchen.

—

Steve doesn't share the dirty details of his now…relationship? with Eddie, with Robin just yet, but he knows he will have to in the near future. He knows the girl won't give up.

But for now, he enjoys Christmas with his friends and family, Robin to his left and Eddie to his right and everyone else he loves surrounding him.

He doesn't know what he and Eddie are, they never really had that conversation, but really, Steve doesn't feel like they have to. It feels special, permanent, it feels easy.

Easy like knowing their lives will hardly change when they head back to Chicago. That, yeah, maybe they'll share a bed and be closer in all the ways that matter most, but Steve will still wake up every morning with Eddie being at the forefront of his mind and go to sleep every night happy that the man is a part of his life at all. Just now, maybe Eddie will be laying by his side when those thoughts cross his mind.

As a hand lays on his thigh and he turns to look at the man he's pretty sure he loves, Steve can't help but smile. Eddie's grin matching his own.

Maybe Eddie was thinking the same thing.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, grip tight on Steve's thigh as he leans over and presses a kiss to Steve's cheek.

“Merry Ch-”

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

“DUSTIN!”

“EDDIE JUST KISSED STEVE, DID NO ONE ELSE SEE THAT?!”

The chaos further erupts as questions soar and Eddie only makes things worse by grabbing Steve by the cheeks and pulling him in for a searing, sloppy, life long kiss.

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thenuclearmallard · 1 year

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Russia, Explained: Siberian Indigenous Population Halves Amid Suicide Epidemic

By Aliide Naylor

April 8, 2021

A suicide epidemic is ravaging indigenous nations in Siberia.

A suicide epidemic is ravaging indigenous nations in Siberia. The Uralic Nganasan community in Siberia’s northern reaches is disappearing at a shocking rate – just three decades ago, there were some 1,300. Now, there are only around 700.

In the Nganasan settlement of Ust-Avam in Krasnoyarsk Krai, there are more suicides than natural deaths. “Six people die here every year. One of these deaths is the result of natural causes. Two or three freeze or die drunk. And two or three kill themselves,” writeNovaya Gazeta special correspondents Elena Kostyuchenko and Yuri Kozyrev after visiting the region.

The community is suffering the devastating effects of global warming, man-made environmental degradation, and severe poverty fuel depression. Out of 359 residents, just 54 have jobs.

“People crack, young people in general break down. The suicide rate is higher among young people. There is no work, nothing. Here you need to pay for lighting, and need to work for food. There is no food, no work, no money,” one young resident says. Her sister also committed suicide, leaving behind an 11-year-old son.

It’s often necessary to rely on anecdotal evidence about indigenous issues. Media reports are sparse and obtaining concrete statistical evidence about indigenous tribes such as the Nganasan is tough. And some deaths may be portrayed as suicides when there is little public information about the facts (for example, the death of one 15-year-old girl, in an uncomfortably termed “relationship” with a 24-year-old adult male police officer wasstyled in 2004 as a Romeo and Juliet story by local press).

The Nganasan are the descendants of semi-nomadic reindeer hunters, with ancient roots and a shamanistic spiritual culture. Even under Peter the Great (in the 17th and 18th centuries) there was a drive to “civilize” Russians in the further-flung regions and catch up with Europe, writes historian Yuri Slezkine. Peter instructed missionaries to find native Siberians and their “seductive false gods-idols and burn them with fire … and destroy their heathen temples”. Such ideas gained greater momentum in the 20th century, and the indigenous people were later forced into reservations under the Soviets in the 1930s. Nomadic civilizations were considered fundamentally incompatible with government-sanctioned lifestyles and these “small nations” of the North were seen as somehow representative of an undesirable past.

The Soviet state collectivized their personal property, including tents, guns and traps, and even reindeer herds. This led to a complete loss of reindeer husbandry and resulted in a steep decline in the reindeer population from the 1950s onwards.

Meanwhile, Soviet enforcement of Russian literacy made the local language almost extinct. Much like practices imposed on indigenous communities in other parts of the world, the Kremlin would take away local kids from their parents and send them to study in boarding schools.

“There, speaking Nganasan was forbidden, and teachers punished them for every Nganasan word they used — beaten with canes, kicked out of the class,” said local linguist Valentin Gusev. Today, Russia is home to 260,000 people from indigenous communities – who constitute just 0.2% of the country’s population. The government officially recognizes 40 separate indigenous groups in the North, Siberia, and the Far East.

The catastrophic impact of climate change in the Russian Arctic limits the Nganasan’s fishing opportunities — their primary food source. Meanwhile, the government continues to restrict hunting, which is a widespread source of tension between the Kremlin and indigenous communities elsewhere across Russia. With a de factoban on hunting, the Nganasans stopped following the routes of wild herds. Local food available for purchase can be out of date or moldy, and chronic alcohol use continues to plague the population.

Aggressive industrial development in the Russian Arctic has massively exacerbated the crisis among the Nganasan. Last year, a Norilsk Nickel (Nornickel) diesel spillbecame the largest human-made fuel spill in Arctic history, after which Russia’s government colludedwith the company (which is the nation’s largest nickel producer) to whitewash the disaster. The spill affected the environment that provided the Nganasan with basic food supplies. “They catch fish; they hunt deer. But there are no fish this year. And the deer left for other lands three years ago,” Kostyuchenko and Kozyrev wrote.

Last year, northern indigenous tribes signed an open letterto US business magnate Elon Musk and Tesla asking him not to purchase any nickel, copper, and other materials from Nornickel in the wake of the disaster. On average, the Norilsk Mining and Metallurgical Combine plant has released 30 tons of metallic dust and heavy metal oxides annually since it began production in the late 1930s, according toresearcher Konstantin B. Klokov.

There has been a recent spikemore generally in tensions between federal authorities and indigenous communities. Some of these nations have mobilized against an over-centralized state, government-backed environmental assaults on their sacred lands, and have demanded the return of their autonomy. In Kalmykia, for example, the majority-Buddhist region has engaged in protests against a Kremlin-appointed mayor. In Buryatia, locals rallied against a rigged election for weeks. And in a case that sent waves across Russia, a Sámi activist filed a complaint with Russia’s Supreme Court last year, after the government denied him the right to hunt without a license.

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fanaticsnail · 4 months

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Hi, I love Spasorrow fic, I'm really sick right now so I spend the day reading all the things you wrote.

English Is not my first lenguage, and I barely understand how Tumblr works.

I got this idea but I can't figure out how to write the story.

This Is a Buggy x Reader idea, they were friends with Shanks and navigate with Roger, but one day there's a storm and reader falls overboard.

Shanks and Buggy thought reader died, but for some reason they can't drown, years later they sneaks to Buggy's tripulation to kill a man since they are now a mercenary. Buggy starts falling for them since they treat him like a human being without being intimidated by him. Later Buggy recognice readear and...? I don't know

Hello, love! I'm glad you've enjoyed my writing. I adore writing for the sapsorrow fic, it's always on my mind of late.

I've done a similar fic like this before for Shanks! It's an amnesia-trope fic where "reader" loses memories after falling overboard. It's called "Remember Me" and it's on my Masterlist if you'd like to take a look! 🖤

For Buggy, I absolutely adore the concept. You could go a similar route with it: amnesia after serving aboard Gol D Roger's ship with the two young apprentices, Shanks and Buggy.

For plot purposes:

Shanks reads as a perpetual flirt who has never had to work hard to gain the attention of friends and lovers.

Buggy has always seen himself as unlovable due to his disfigurement (nose).

How your concept reads as a bulleted point:

OC/Reader has been working hard to build up Buggy's confidence; Shanks is always a reassuring king. Buggy thinks the two of them are simply making fun of him.

Amongst a storm: Buggy, reader/OC and Shanks were tasked with tying the rigging for the ship. They work hard, reader/oc always reaching out for Buggy to protect him, knowing if he falls overboard he'll be rendered defenceless and likely die.

As one final wave swells, the three of them all look amongst each other. Buggy slips, reaches for reader/OC but finds Shank's arm in their absence. Reader/oc smiles in relief, all is well - but the ship's bottom hits a large coral bank and they're tossed to the side of the boat. Seaspray renders Shanks' vision blurry, Buggy tries to reach for reader/OC but they scream at him not to because he'll die.

Buggy doesn't want to lose them, screams over his shoulders for Shanks to help him but as he turns back around - he's met with nothing. His soul screams out for them, Shanks manages to clear his eyes from the sea spray but it's to no avail. Reader/OC is lost to them.

Notes:

That is really where I would start it as a chaptered fic. It has so much potential to take it anywhere you want.

Reader/OC could be found by a ship of conflicting pirates who take pity on them in the storm

Reader/OC could wash to shore and be taken under the wing and train as a marine under Garp and Bogard

This one could be exceptionally sad/angsty if they were the one tasked with bringing Gol D Roger into custody and execute him. Having amnesia and be made to kill your childhood captain would just have me crying so much.

They could not be found at all and be made to fend for themselves. Accidentally stumbling into a thief's guild, they could learn to train with them to complete tutorship as an assassin.

To set the mood for you to write to, I have some song recommendations for you!

My Heart With You - The Rescues

Play With Fire - Sam Tinnesz, Yacht Money

Siren Song - Bat For Lashes

If you need any help, I am absolutely happy to beta-read / proof read for you over google docs! Send me a private message and I'd love to help you in any way I can 🖤

Themes: lost lovers, angst, amnesia-trope, blissful reunification, apprehension, teasing, violence, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers.

@writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @empressofmankind @nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos @tiredemomama @sordidmusings also have some beautiful Buggy pieces and amazing thoughts on their Masterlists, if you'd like to check them out.

@since-im-already-here also has a lot of music recs and advice.

Happy writing!! 🖤🖤

#happy writing #supporting fic writers #prompt #new fic #one piece #buggy #buggy the clown #writing prompt

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miasudare · 6 months

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I HAVE A CRAZY THEORY ABOUT UNDERTALE AND DELTARUNE

(Note that it's just a theory!!!!)

So I've been thinking about it for a while. A couple of days a ago I saw a post about Undertale Spotify album. In the video they said that the album starts with "Once upon a time" and ends with "Good night" (credits to them) and that may imply that Undertale is a bedtime story. So that video lead me to this theory (it's long) :

I think Undertale is the dream of Kris from Deltarune. Not just any dream though, a lucid dream. Meaning that you control the dream yourself. Now, I want you to keep remembering what Kris does at the end of Chapter 1 while you read this.

Some dialogs in the game Undertale keeps telling you that you are living a dream such as that one death screen from (I guess it was either Flowey or Asriel) says " It's all a bad dream", (if I remember correctly) at the end of pacifist route Asgore saying "this is like a dream" or the item "Dream" you get from Asriel. Also you can say that the underground is always at the night time if there is no sun making a day cycle. Throughout your game play you can sleep at 4 locations anytime you want. And some monsters do sleep there with you.

Now I know you'll be asking; what about Frisk and Chara? Well I think it might sound crazy for a second but they are the same person, just representing different personalities. When I told you to remember what Kris does at the end of Chapter 1 is from this part. They rips their red* soul puts it in a cage and they turns to camera with red eyes and a knife. Meaning their true nature is showing violence. Now let me explain this detailed:

1-Frisk: In your Undertale game play you play as Frisk. They don't talk, show any emotion in neutral route or think for themselves at all. They have no emotion on their face too. Like a puppet. Frisk have/has(?) no control over themselves. Also throughout the game Frisk is seen with a red* heart/soul. We never saw anyone else use this color of soul in undertale. Not even Chara. /it might be fanon that Chara has red soul/

2-Chara: They have red eyes, a little smile and they show up at the end of genocide route. Unlike Frisk, Chara seems to be having control, hobbies and likings. Such as the comment they make about the environment in Asgore's house or the coffin. And in the genocide route of Undertale you'll realize that Chara slowly gains control over you. I'm not implying that Chara is pure evil even though they are violent since in the end we didn't get to choose not to kill Asgore or Flowey. Not to mention that Chara gains all the control over us after we make violent actions.

3-Kris: In Deltarune (most likely in the beginning)we don't get to choose anything about who we are. We don't have control. Although as soon as we go to the Dark World things chance. We get to choose what Kris does. We can make them hurt others, show mercy on others or even make them eat moss. WE get to ruin/perfect their life in the Dark World. And Kris can't do anything but obey us. Just like Frisk. And just like Frisk, Kris doesn't shows any emotion in the game play. When we get to the cutscene tho, you'll realize that the game is over. You don't have control over Kris. And Kris knows it. There is nothing you can do to stop them from doing what they want. They are free from you.

When Kris goes to the bed. There is a black screen for a while and we get to see the cutscene. Maybe after what Kris experienced in the Dark World, they had a dream about what would it be like if their life was just like that. Going to adventures, fighting monsters. And normally Kris sees their family, friends or their neighbors in the dream. That would explain a lot of things. Like why we see Asgore and Toriel are divorced in Undertale. In Deltarune they are also divorced so it would be logical for Kris to see them as single too. When you connect the dots you even get why some events happened.

In Undertale you never get to see Asgore alive without doing pacifist. And even if you do pacifist he gets treated poorly. In all other endings he dies. All because of Flowey(I'm gonna come to that too). Meaning that maybe Kris doesn't have a good relationship with his father at all. There might be things that happened during the divorce. Kris sees Asgore as the King because he is the only man that Kris knows as a strong male figure.

Also Toriel, being a queen is the same. Toriel is the only one Kris could image being in charge of a nation. She is a teacher after all and Kris might think her to be very smart. We also see Toriel talking about wanting to be a teacher in Undertale. Kris didn't miss that one. The way Toriel acts is also important too. She treats a complete stranger like her child giving them a bed, food, love and even education. Meaning that Kris and Toriel has a good relationship as mother-child.

Asriel though is very complicated. In Deltarune we never see him. We only know that Asriel is very talented in many ways because of the trophies in his shelf. In Undertale tho we mostly see him as a evil defenseless little flower in both neutral and genocide endings. And what did I said about Asgroe? He keeps dying in both endings. He gets killed by Asriel. This might imply 2 things. 1 Asriel doesn't have a healthy relationship with his father. 2 Asriel caused the divorce and he is not innocent. It would explain why we never get to see him again after he brakes the barrier. He doesn't get a happy ending while everyone gets. Because Kris don't think that Asriel deserves to be happy. We don't know much about the relationship between Asriel and Kris except for knowing that Flowey kills Frisk a lot. When you think that way you'll notice that Asriel might be a bully to Kris. He is talented, he might get more love and support from his parents since he goes to college. So no one would say anything to him if he picks on or even shows violence towards Kris. This might be the reason Kris stays quiet all the time or doesn't moves an inch while Susie threatens to eats his face off. Kris is used to it. In the other hand, Kris might even hate Asriel too. Like I said Kris doesn't think that Asriel deserves a happy end. (Not to mention we see Asriel as a cry baby. Probably Kris would love to see that.) Resulting him dying in process. A world without an Asriel is a world where everyone is happy to Kris. The way Chara portrays Flowey in genocide is also a thing. Flowey in genocide is scared, hopeless and helpless. Kris might imagine Asriel like that. When Kris gets a chance and a knife, Asriel begging them to not kill him, oh how much satisfaction Kris would feel.

Sans and Papyrus's apperience depends on Kris's imagination to be honest. Kris knows something goes on with his mother and Sans. Since Sans says "I befriended your mom last night". So this would cause Kris to see Sans as a punny, relaxed and mysterious man. The way Toriel would like to hang out. The mystery part also comes from Kris knowing a little bit of Sans. Papyrus is also up to Kris's imagination. The way Sans told them about Papyrus might resulted Kris to see him as a merciful, complex but friendly guy. And since Kris met Sans the day they fell into the Dark World would explain the Rabbit Shop lady's dialogs "They showed up out of no where and introduced themselves"

I don't think I need to talk about Undyne and Alphys. Undyne is a police officer (police shef?) and that would explain how Kris sees her in Undertale. An independent woman as a leader of a very strict group of guards. And Alphys? She is a science teacher and probably the only science teacher in the town. It would also make sense for think her as a scientist. Also the neighbors. We see Catty, Bratty, Snowdrake(not sure). Kris might see Catty and Bratty as low life, non important, cheapskate girls so that could led us to see them hanging in a literal dumpster, selling trash.

I don't know what I should tell you about Gaster. We just need more chapters so I can explain more I guess. Do you like this theory? Do you agree or not?

#undertale #deltarune #theory #undertale theory #deltarune theory #toby fox

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queenaryastark · 1 year

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Just a not so friendly reminder that posts like these are inherently incorrect and misogynistic:

There is nothing more feminine about Sansa than there is about any other character who identifies as female -- Arya included. If anything, Sansa is less feminine than women who advocate for gender equality since there is nothing feminine about idealizing restrictions on women nor thinking women should change themselves to fit male ideals -- as Sansa and her stans do. You can't force someone to not be critical of your fav by pretending their misogyny, classism, and ableism are feminine. Those traits in Sansa gain her criticism from readers not the fact that she's female. Others who share her values like Joffrey and Lord Tarly are criticized as well.

Trying to phrase it as "traditional femininity" is also ridiculous since the traditions they're basing their limited view of womanhood on are 1) dictated by a male desire to control female behavior and 2) they are more of a reflection of Western European values for noble women from centuries ago rather than anything legitimate. If you want to go the "traditional" route, why not look to far older cultures? The answer to that is because this isn't about "traditional" or "femininity" no more than misogynists like "Classically Abby" actually care about about being classic. This is about hating women who don't fit within male created restrictions, trying to gatekeep femininity, and trying pressure others into conforming.

Sansa stans have been using this argument as a way to hate on Arya and her fans for more than a decade at this point. So this person isn't reinventing the misogyny wheel. But this sexism does need to be called out.

#arya stark #sansa stark #asoiaf

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tvfangirladdict · 16 days

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So everyone else seems to be bolstered in their Buddie hope after this episode, but am I the only one that's getting a sinking feeling instead?

On one hand, yes, the repressed catholic guilt for Eddie makes me optimistic--and was I understanding Maddie's hint about Eddie correctly or was I crazy?--but everything else read to me as ABC beginning to--maybe not solidfy Buck and Eddie as only friends, but at least pump the breaks on Buddie.

I get letting them grow and learn more about themselves in separate relationships first, but Eddie's genuine, physical attraction to Marisol? Going back to the beginning of their relationship so ABC can undo how Fox just kind of through them together like usual right before the season finale and they can actually show the development of this relationship that's existed for months now but we weren't able to see? Paralleling this with Buck and Tommy who want to get to know each other better? Buck and Eddie's shorter, more bro-style interactions vs the softer more intimate interactions we were used to seeing in Buck's kitchen? The hug and "call Tommy," was all just so quick and platonic😭.

I'm not saying they'll never go there, I'm just saying I'm not so confident that if it does happen, we'll see it confirmed in the next few years.

Anyone else know the story of Benson and Stabler on SVU? They were always partners/ best friends/ride-or-dies/more-than-friends/soulmates, but Stabler was Catholic, married and had up to 5 kids. Everyone and their mother knew those two were meant to be, but their timing just never worked out. In their first 12 years before Chris(Stabler) left the show though, they hugged like a total of 3 times, never once said "I love you" or ever crossed the line physically. Okay? You with me? And yet, there was so much chemistry and love shown between them, that they were undeniable.

Cut forward 10 years, and Stabler gets his own spinoff and is brought back into Benson's life. 22 YEARS in the making. In his first season back, his wife was killed, he told her "I love you" and this giant, unspoken thing between them was actually fucking acknowledged by their characters in the show. In one season, they advanced these twos' personal relationship more than the previous 22 years put together.

But then.... nothing happened. I mean small things here and there between the two shows, an almost kiss, them admitting they want each other. But still, three years later and they still aren't together. And now we're at 25 years, for what has to be the slowest slow burn in the history of like, everything.

All this to say, I'm really afraid that ABC and Tim Minear are only coming out swinging so hard in an effort to hook existing fans and gain their loyalty. But then, it's going to go back to doing what any other major television company does, and it's going to fall back into drawing it out as long as possible. Because yeah, the show is on season 7, but if ABC wants it to go another 7 for themselves, they can't just rush and give us what we want in the first one or two seasons, that wouldn't be a good financial strategy for them. I really don't think they'll do it that way.

ABC gave us bi Buck and they can't ever take that away, but will they trap us with that bait, and be content with making everyone halfway happy to avoid taking too many more risks so soon or ever? Yeah, I really think they're not above that.

I feel like we're already falling back into the patented responses from cast and crew that "you never know" or "anything can happen" or "nothing is set in stone", so that's not making me feel great.

Don't get me wrong, I would be so happy to admit I'm wrong if it doesn't go the way I think it will, but I don't think I can live episode-to-episode for another 7 years living off scraps of Buddie interactions and subtext😭😭 I'd rather they just go the "brother" route so I can get closure and focus on fanfiction instead. The will they/won't they and overanalyslzing every single second looking for a hint of something sexual or romantic between them will be the death of me, because at the end of the day, it'll mean whatever ABC will want it to mean😭

Most of yall probably won't even read this, but I had to get my anxiety out, lmao😅

#buddie

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imthepunchlord · 2 months

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Since peafowl can match with earth and butterfly with air,did you think about making them a duo? Like they're pretty much like the duo of the WX

Eh, I honestly find them to be more of a stretch to be a pair. The most they have going for them is the fact that both are in Gabriel's possession. But that's not really enough to make them a pair. Peafowl and Butterfly can be in two separate groups and still wind up in the same place. That's not enough to define them as a duo.

Canon's choice in Peafowl's powers also didn't help as it's just too similar to the Butterfly's. It's actually what made Peafowl's inclusion such a disappointment as it changed nothing about the status quo. And for a pair, you don't want that. Especially as one is clearly the superior option as Peafowl does allow you to not rely on another.

Ideally, pairs should be defined by being opposites/counterparts, and both should have something unique to offer.

Ladybug's power is creative and tied to healing and keeping order; Cat mean while is destructive, harmful, and chaotic.

There's not enough differences to validate Peafowl and Butterfly as a duo. The other big issue are their colors too. Butterfly ultimately does lean more purple, which fits right next to blue. That doesn't set them up to be a good visual counter to themselves.

In truth, going a route of ideal counterparts, Butterfly is going to need a counter that is more independent, gaining power from themselves and not from others. And as Butterfly is more tied to emotions and empathy, the counter should be more tied to logic and reason.

Canon Peafowl in turns needs a destructive counterpart as this is a creative power, and where it's more tied to fantasy/imagination/vision, the counterpart should work more off what is truth and reality.

Butterfly and Peafowl just don't click as a duo outside their given circumstances. And that there is not enough for them to be a pair.

#ask Punchie #butterfly miraculous #peafowl miraculous

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ac-liveblogs · 2 months

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FF7 Rebirth: 40% a good game, 60% a waste of my time

The short of it is that FF7 Rebirth feels like its just taking a longer route to get to the exact same places as the original, and while its highs are extremely high for the most part it's an exhausting game full of padding designed to mask the fact that there really wasn't enough to do to justify the decision to split this into three full-length games with a triple A price tags.

It didn't take its unique premise far enough to justify the changes it makes, and it deviates too far from the original premise to feel like a satisfying remake. The new elements feel half-hearted, the new stuff is great, it's a really mixed bag.

The long of it is this;

It took me awhile to figure out why I liked Scott Pilgrim Takes Off but had so many issues with Final Fantasy 7 Remake (and later, Rebirth). The two have similar premises; through what appears to be time travel, one (or more) of the main characters affect the timeline to try and get a different result than the one they ended up with. They're both kinda sequels to the original property designed to build off your pre-existing knowledge and give you a new but similar experience to the one you already had. So... why'd I like one, but not the other?

Eventually, it hit me. Because Takes Off booted the titular Scott from the main story, his love interest - Ramona Flowers - took center stage. The story had been disrupted in such a way that not only were events forced to play out incredibly differently, but because they did the characters were able to grow and address their relationships with each other in new, different ways - and we as the audience gained new or greater understandings of them because of it.

I like new characters I never gave a second thought to before because I saw different sides of them, and I feel like the original story was enhanced for having Takes Off as a kinda-sequel. Both of those things were only possible via the time travel plot - you could not have gotten the same effect by merely expanding the original Scott Pilgrim, because it would have made the narrative far more convoluted. Scott could not defeat Ramona's exes and Ramona could not have reconciled with them in the same plot.

So then the question becomes - are the time travel, flash forwards and alternate continuities in Rebirth worth it? Do I feel like FF7 is improved or enhanced for having them? Do I feel like I've learnt more about the characters, or that they've learnt more about themselves? Are 7 Rebirth's time shenanigans an earnest attempt to revisit the same characters through a very different lens under very different circumstances to reach a greater understanding of the original source material?

Well, no. The addition of those elements to FF7 Rebirth feel like the devs decided they had to do something different to the original 7's main narrative, but had absolutely nothing to say. They wanted to acknowledge that almost everyone knows their plot and wink at the audience over it, but didn't have the guts to go wildly off course. The main vibe I get is that we're taking more convoluted steps to get to roughly the same location - SE is jangling shiny objects in front of my face and throwing mystery boxes at me in the hopes that I'll open them, but at the end of the day despite all the whispers, the multiple timelines and the questions about what on earth Sephiroth's new plan could possibly be, I have reached no greater understanding about any of these characters or the original plot for having wasted my time on this.

And that has problems - Rebirth knows it doesn't have a lot of plot twists, so it assumes you already know what the Big Ones are and doesn't even bother trying to maintain the mystery or build an engaging narrative around them. You know Cloud thinks he's Zack, you know Aerith dies - why bother keeping them a secret when we could spend that time calling back to Crisis Core, bouncing in and out of 'the Zack timeline' or wondering if maaaaybe Aerith might survive this time? (Hilariously, it calls back to Crisis Core incorrectly - that is not degradation, that is not what degradation does).

Cloud really does end up feeling like a puppet - while he never had agency, Rebirth doesn't even bother pretending. Cloud's mental instability and Sephiroth's manipulations are dragged out over tens of hours instead of a few shocking scenes, so when the game tries to cash in the intended shock factor of those scenes I felt like I'd already seen everything in them happen in the game at least once before. If we really are supposed to have the illusion of being able to defy fate, surely Cloud attempting to kill Tifa could have resulted in some changes that might have resulted in a different outcome at the Temple of the Ancients...?

No, of course not. That would be too big a change to make, and Tifa moves on past Cloud's murder attempt with assurances she believes in him. She's absolutely fine getting into an enclosed space with him, alone, and still has no issue keeping the love triangle going. Was there any point to including a new murder attempt at all, beyond showing Sephiroth can control Cloud? The thing we already knew he could do?

At the end of the day, nothing really changes. Fate holds, and Cloud's story feels like a casualty in his own game. If Rebirth's plot deviated meaningfully enough from the original that the player figuring out what happened early felt worthwhile or meaningful that wouldn't bother me, but it doesn't - so it just feels like one of gaming's most effective rugpulls was dismantled so the player could get to see Zack and Sephiroth more often.

That's it in general - if I felt the plot deviated meaningfully enough from the original (and let me see new sides of the world and characters) that the changes felt worth it, like in Takes Off, I'd enjoy myself more and I'd be able to appreciate what 7R was trying to do. Given SE has already confirmed this will loop back into Advent Children and despite a splash of multiversal time travel paint over the top of events that played out exactly as they were supposed to in the original though - I kind of doubt that will happen. This weird middle-ground is just unsatisfying. Commit to the new plot or just do a remake. It feels like SE is too scared to do anything really wild beyond offering harmless fanservice, though.

But don't get me wrong - there's plenty of new content for a lot of old characters in Rebirth, and a lot of it is really good. Barrett, Nanaki and Yuffie have skyrocketed to the top of my 'favourite FF7 characters' list because Rebirth was able to expand on their personal stories and characters in new and exciting ways, and from Remake onwards I've been extremely invested in Rufus Shinra where before there were days I'd forget he existed. Aerith is a consistently strong character across the entire game, but she would be strong in the exact same ways with or without the time shenanigans. In general, the 'minor' main characters come out of this really well (if you're not Cid Highwind. lmao)

If you asked 'do these changes expand your understanding of these characters/their stories' about most of the time spent chasing our original cast - my answer would be yes. For the most part, I feel like the Wutai subplot benefits Yuffie and expands Shinra as an antagonist, the Gi's inclusion was awkward but could deepen Nanaki's character, the Temple of the Ancients was fun and sad in a way the original wasn't right up until Sephiroth showed up in person and the extra time spent in Costa del Sol and the Golden Saucer made me care about my party and their relationships with Cloud. There's a lot of good here.

Although, those changes were the result of modernising/updating and tweaking existing plot elements - these strengths were in spite of the 'time shenanigans', not because of them. In my opinion, the time we spend with the party, fighting the Turks or the stories in existing locations are the best parts of the game. I'd expect them in the remake either way, and if 7R didn't mess with the timeline I'd not expect them to be absent or have changed at all. They're completely divorced from Sephiroth's nonsense and stronger for it.

In two full priced games, I can explore less of FF7's world and I get less main character story than I did in FF7 disc 1. Several locations are missing - including Rocket Town and Wutai, which had to be saved for 'part 3'. The loss of Wutai is to be expected, since 7R is still seeding that conflict, but it would've been nice to be able to engage with it beyond Shinra execs discussing it in board meetings. The loss of Rocket Town has seriously changed Cid's character, including his reason for joining the party - he has a worse one, now.

7R's desperate attempt to cover up for the fact that you get less world map and less story than you did in disc 1 are the side quests, the extra filler dungeons shoved between almost every settlement and the massive open world. The side quests are a mixed bag and there's a valiant attempt to make the dungeons interesting by forcing party changes and changing the playable character, but too much of it in quick succession gets exhausting.

The real issue is the open-world, where the main things to do seem to be hitting various kinds of checkpoints to get lore your characters should already know, find items, upgrade materia or fight minibosses. The open-world is huge, but there's not a lot to do out there, and you've already seen every activity the open-world has to offer by the time you've cleared the first region. It strikes me as the sort of pointless time-wasting inclusion a game has when the devs commit to expanding a 40 hour RPG from the 90s into three full priced triple A games without bothering to consider if there's enough story content to justify the split.

Which there isn't. If 7R cut the bloat and packaged Remake and Rebirth as one game, I would probably have felt a lot less exhausted playing them. As it is, completing the side quests and exploring each region before heading to the next one feels like a chore. I feel like the split is not going to be justified by the end result - and the ~mystery regarding Sephiroth's plots, mysterious only because it's being split up over three installments, is not going to be worth the wait.

It's Time Compression. My dude is doing Time Compression But More Bigger and less relevant to his character concept, and with it my hopes of an 8 remake go swirling down the drain. No, seriously, they're just riffing 8. They're riffing 8 even more now. This is just Final Fantasy 8. Won't someone listen. They're remaking the wrong game-

There are other minor plot points that grind my gears in Rebirth, but they're all largely that - minor. I did enjoy the card game, at least.

So in the end, my main takeaway is that 7 Rebirth is an over-bloated game that tries to pretend it has more to say than it does, and while when this game shines it shines BRIGHT, most of the time it's an exhausting slog that has left me feeling more confused and disappointed than anything. I don't think the time shenanigans have actually added anything beyond fanservice, but the expansions to the existing plot points were largely really good. This game made me laugh harder than anything else this year, and it made me cry. It also made me frustrated beyond belief.

Red XIII is the best character in this game by a mile, Aerith is a close second.

I'm unlikely to replay this game - I don't have the stamina for that - but I might revisit certain cutscenes. That's about it, really.

#ac plays ff7r #ff7r spoilers #it might sound unkind to say its a waste of my time #but realistically the only things i'd want to replay are the rufus and turk fights. and the card game.

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theelvenhaven · 11 months

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The Fall

Galdor x Reader

2.5k Words

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It had been pandemonium from the moment that Melkor’s servants arrived. Nost-na-Lothion’s silence had been interrupted by the chanting of orcs, the roar of dragons and the cracking of whips as balrogs approached Gondolin and breaking through it’s many gates. Tramping and toppling over them like they were nothing.

You could do nothing but stand there with Galdor in shock with the rest of the Gondolindrim over everything that was transpiring. Both of you had hoped that each stronger gate would deter the wave that came… But it was no match as the mighty fell beasts aided in toppling it over, before flying overhead and burning down the buildings.

It was then at the King’s behest that Galdor ready his soldiers and people, and you two were separated. Following immediately upon the rumors that Galdor had disclosed to you. That somewhere in Gondolin there was a tunnel that the Princess and her husband Prince Consort Tuor had built. Though you were only working off rumors as you ran.

Galdor had given you basic instructions and you only hoped that they were well enough to get you where you needed to go. As you ran, you only seemed to run into dead end crumbled or toppled over buildings. Buildings that used to be homes and shops, stairways had been blocked off, your adrenaline had been pumping before you had finally met up with a group of warriors and other civilians.

Ones that seemed to know the direction that they were going in, ones that cut down orcs that rounded corners or sacrificed themselves to keep the balrogs distracted. Your group of six guards had dwindled down to two and yet the civilians seemed to keep growing as you ran. From a meager four people to well over twelve, each of you inviting and hurrying new stranded elves and mortals alike trying to hurry and help them towards the tunnel. Though the number never seemed to stay consistent.

No matter where you ran was there fire and ash, billowing up to the skies, blackening it’s perfect blue. Your ears ringing as you listened and watched as buildings would crumble and crack and fall to their ruin, rubble threatening to fall atop of you. You were lucky to save yourself when you looked up to see the massive careening piece fall from the sky and almost onto you.

Jumping as you were simultaneously pulled out of the way by another person, you could feel the heat of fire licking at your skin. As dragons fire rained down overhead. Lashing out and roasting others alive much to your horror and that of your companions. But you all knew you couldn’t stop, if you did… you’d be like those who did… You only hoped that you were successful in your escape.

Praying to Eru- begging and pleading to him for your safe route out of this mess. Praying and pleading that Galdor was safe and sound, what little you let your thoughts stray it was of concern of your husband. You hoped he was alive, that he was okay, and in one piece. The horrific ideas of the ways he could die had played out in your mind when you weren’t too focused on the surrounding areas. Trying to make sure you didn’t die as well.

It was only after what felt like hours of running did you seem to finally arrive to the tunnel, losing or gaining people as you went along. Several Lords were standing guard, including your Galdor. Immediately you ran to him, as he seemed distracted caught up in the hysteria and trying to usher people, but the moment he saw you, his heart filled with relief.

You were alive! In one piece and not a scratch on you. It was more than what Galdor could ask for as you hurriedly embraced him. His forehead immediately coming to rest against yours as you both basked for a moment in each other, knowing that you were both alive and well for now.

“Praise Eru! I worried after the first two hours- I feared the worst.” Galdor confided to you, usually… Egalmoth would have something snarky to say. Something to rush this moment, but he didn’t understanding this might be the last time the two of you see each other. Even he didn’t have the heart to ruin or rush this moment. So he simply stepped up and forward, taking over his position.

Tears filled your eyes, spilling over leaving a fresh trail of salty water down your soot stained cheeks, from all the smoke and fire.

“And I praise Eru you are here and alright. Are you coming with us? Please tell me you are.” You pleaded desperately as you held onto his strong arms that were covered in padding and armor. Yet before you could answer all you could hear was the sound of approaching goblins and orcs. They had yet to see the tunnel but from the sounds of it, if they were not stopped they’d be upon you soon.

“Go, you must go!” Galdor said pulling away from you, his usually calm demeanor was gone. The moment of relief had melted away, yet your hands didn’t release his arms and it hindered him only a little as he was reluctant to pull away from you.

��Galdor-! Are you-”

“I’ll be right behind you, melmë! Go! Now!” Galdor urged and rushed, finally pulling away from you as a civilian grabbed hold of your tunic and began to pull you along. You hesitated to go, looking back and only watching as he disappeared around the corner, with screams of horror from other elves and humans alike.

It was the wake up call you needed to run through the tunnel and you didn’t stop. Not with relief as you saw Lord Glorfindel or heard the sound of Lord Egalmoth’s voice, and your terror only became worse when you heard the roar of the balrog that threatened you and everyone else. All of you breaking into a harder run, while Glorfindel ran past all of you and in the direction of danger.

You couldn’t breathe, your lungs burned from smoke and ash and running- as your legs burned with every hard step you took running. You didn’t look back as cheer erupted, and the screeching sound of the dying balrog met your ears. But it had been short lived as again cries erupted for Lord Glorfindel.

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around to see his demise, you couldn’t handle anymore. The grief would be too much, the stress would finally get to you and you would fade away right then and there. Your body would just turn to ash like the rest of Gondolin while your fëa would flee to Mandos.

You didn’t want to abandon Galdor if there was a chance he was still alive. You’d hang on with every fiber in your being to be there for when you all found safety.

None of you stopped as you finally exited the tunnels, not even to look back on the burning and plundering mess of what was once your fair city. The sky still clouded in smokey, though stars of Varda started to glitter their way through the further you got away from its ruin. There was a mess of elves stopping, some still going, some turning back.

Trying to find loved ones, others unable to continue on for now, others hoping to help whatever stragglers were still behind. Aiding Egalmoth in wrangling the crowd and getting you all some place safe, and you simply followed the Lord.

Your King was gone, some Lords you could hear had fallen in Gondolin, and the words of how Maeglin was a traitor quickly spread throughout. Lowering morale and making everyone feel like giving up, now that you had lost your homes and safe haven. Though Egalmoth didn’t let it deter any of you as he encouraged or everyone to press onwards.

Leading you for days through places you hadn’t been before, and if he was uncertain of where he was heading… He surely didn’t show it. Others branching off to Doriath… Though rumor held it had been destroyed. But that didn’t stop others from seeking it out, while whispers aroused of the Havens of Sirion and Arvernien.

With Tuor and Idril at the Helm of leading you there. Claiming it was one of the last safe places of Beleriand… Save maybe Ossiriand. But it would take weeks of treachery to get through to there. Where as this march was only taking days.

When you arrived you were all surprised to see so many Sinda there. Though they all welcomed you with open arms, especially as Tuor and Idril spoke with those around them… perhaps in charge or something of that nature. Others rushed to welcome you into their home, offering food and bandaging the wounded.

While everyone felt and found their kindred spirits in those from Doriath, having heard officially of its Fall and Sacking. You could scarcely find relief, your nerves never having dwindled as your mind could finally “settle”. Settling to wander back towards Galdor.

Wondering where he was. He said he was right behind you… You know he had a duty to Gondolin. But apart of you wish that he didn’t and that he could’ve been selfish and followed with you instead. You wished he didn’t had to have run head first into danger the way he did.

You hoped he survived, Egalmoth had not spoken a word to you about your husband. Simply keeping to his duties, yet you couldn’t find the words to speak to Egalmoth either, because a part of you didn’t want to know if he didn’t survive. Not yet at least, not ever… But you knew you’d be met with reality sooner or later.

While the Sinda offered you places to stay seeing as so many refugees continued to pour in from Gondolin, you stayed put firmly near the entrance of the Haven the Sinda and even- as you learned- other Noldor from Nargothrond had begun to built.

In a meager tent, shellshocked and quiet. Not speaking to anyone, you could’ve sworn Egalmoth came and sat with you a time or two. Though he said nothing, there was no reassurance, and he didn’t want to give you false hope about anything. You stood patiently at the entrance when you saw large groups approach, busying your hands with rations of food or medical items, fresh blankets or clothes.

Looking over every face and every person of stature, looking over every soldier that came in. Everyone in glittering mail with the crest of the House of the Tree on it. No one recognized you, naturally and you hardly recognized them. Yet none of them still uttered anything of Galdor.

You reached over into one of the crates picking up a skin of water, and ration of lembas when your eyes fell on the ner in front of you. With familiar light eyes, brown hair that had been covered in soot, and mess from being in a helm that was long abandoned. They didn’t take the rations from your hands, they let out a cry of relief as they grabbed your wrists and pulled you into them.

You were met with cold, dirty armor, but you felt arms wrap around your shoulders and hold you close. You froze in your place, it had all happened so fast, you hardly knew what to make of it!

“Melmë you’re alive!” Galdor said as he rested his chin on your head, and immediately a cry left your lefts as you dropped the rations and wrapped your arms around his armored chest and body. Clutching onto him as tightly as you could.

Relief flooded you and you felt faint, grateful he had such a strong hold on you as you felt as though your legs might give out. Your heart pounding fervently in your chest, and the tears spilled from your eyes,

“Oh Galdor! I thought I lost you!” You sobbed out to him as you did your best to cling tightly to your husband. His arms only winding snugger around you, and you didn’t dare complain of discomfort, you’d take all the poking of his armor on your body in the world to keep having this moment with him. It was a reminder that it was real, that you weren’t imagining it, he was really here with you.

After a moment, Galdor gently pulled away from you, though he kept you in his hold. Coming to press his forehead to yours immediately, still wanting closeness. He smelled of smoke and ash, but you didn’t care. He was here with you.

“I told you, Y/N… I was right behind you.” Galdor said to you softly as you released your hold on his waist, coming to bring your hands to his face. Cupping his jaw and holding him close, you closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his breath tickling your face, the warmth of his skin against yours.

You didn’t care what sooth or blood got on you and your clothes, you were just happy to finally have him in your arms. Galdor sighed out in relief, his heart finally beating steadily instead of pounding with worry. His fears eased knowing that you were here the whole time and safe and sound.

“Yes… You certainly were, my love… Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you need to see a Healer?” You asked as your thumbs gently stroked his face, rubbing away grime and dirt. Galdor only pulled you closer into him, and he began to shake his head, before turning it to kiss the inside of your palm.

“No, no I am uninjured. I could use a bath though.” He said with a half hearted sigh or maybe even a chuckle if that was what you wanted to call it. You nodded at his words,

“We can get you one, hopefully a hot one you deserve it! I am just so happy you’re alive!” You said eagerly with glee before you released his face and wrapped your arms around his neck. Galdor willingly went with motions and buried his face into your shoulder, taking slow and steady deep breaths, breathing in the unfamiliar scent of plain soap- opposed to your usual scented oils and soaps. But it was undeniably you and not some fever dream.

“As am I, Y/N.” Galdor said softly, and there was a note of exhaustion finally hitting his voice. Finally he could be tired and unwind from the chaos. There was still much to be done… But for now he could breathe.

“Come let us find you a place to bathe and to lay your head down, my love.” You said softly to him, gently pulling away. Galdor raised his head, but put his arm around your shoulder. The two of you walking away and finally heading off to some place to rest. Grateful to be reunited after the Fall.

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Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @noldorinpainter

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