🕷 word count ~ 3k
🕷 content warning ~ flashbacks, memory loss, mentions of grief, profanity, yearning, no use of y/n, mild violence, uncertainty, self doubt, stalking and mild obsession, light angst
🕷 SYNOPSIS ~ Your visions start to seriously bother you, so you find yourself in a pursuit of the mysterious web-slinger, while she struggles to brush off how much she longs for you.
A/N: RAAAHHHHHH SPIDER-MAN BND COMING OUT TOMORROW OMHOMGOMOMG IM SEEING IT ON OPENING DAYYY!!! quick reminder that this story isn't based on bnd, but it is an interpretation of it in a sense!! dont come at me if its inaccurate lmfao bc i already know it wont be. i made this story up and it simply picks up where nwh left off but with ellie as spidey. hope you enjoy!! i HAD to get one more chapter in before the movie release
Likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!
<- previous —— next ->
-series masterlist- -masterlist-
Sticky notes, newspapers, files. They all litter your desk. So much so that you can’t see the wooden surface anymore. Some are stained with coffee rings, some are crumpled after being retrieved from trash cans and such. Some nights, you forget to sleep. Others, you forget that day and night are separate.
A week has passed since you started your search. Maybe a little more. You never officially ‘started’ anything, to be fair. Things keep pointing to your friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman. Your visions, your dreams. You’ve personally met her more times than most other New Yorkers. You aren’t involved in law enforcement, nor are you a reporter. So, why does she keep showing up?
It started with you simply reading articles you happened to come across. Your suspicions (and the algorithms of your socials) promptly led you to go on this wild goose chase for the infamous vigilante. You don’t even know how the sticky notes started.
As of right now, your closest lead is Spider-Woman’s patrol route. You were able to deduce that she has a weekly schedule for her rounds around New York City. On Mondays, she’s usually around ESU. She also often makes a stop at a certain alleyway, according to the footage you found online, so that’s exactly where you’ll be camping all morning!
You set up a little too early, reaching the spot at around six in the morning. It’s not like you slept at all last night. This has been keeping you up for days. These visions…they’ve been getting worse. You keep seeing her, and they keep getting more realistic. You were scared to sleep, truth be told. They got more violent with time, and they always left you feeling shaken.
Two nights ago, you felt it. One minute, you were in bed trying to sleep, and the next, you were trapped under rubble. You felt the weight on top of you. You felt the searing scratches scattered across your flesh, leaving fresh crimson marks that made it hard to move. Next to you was a torn red mask—Spider-Woman’s. Hazy, you crawled towards it and held it close. Then, the large chunk of sidewalk above you flew upwards, having been suspended by a web. For a second, you almost saw a blurred, pale, freckled face, but the concrete fell right back down on top of you, waking you up earlier than you would’ve wanted. If you could’ve just seen her face…
You just had a double shot espresso, though. You’ll be fine with no sleep.
An hour passes. Then two. You definitely came here too early. Every swipe you make on your phone takes away one percent. You should probably get your phone battery replaced. What was the battery health again? Your thumb presses on the grey app to check the battery, but you’re interrupted by the swift sound of wind and the quiet landing of feet against pavement.
Spider-Woman is right in front of you. She doesn’t seem to know you’re here yet. You take a step closer, and only then does she wheel around and look straight at you. Her lenses are comically wide, portraying the surprise she probably feels from seeing a random person in her usual alleyway.
Now, you’re just pissed. You didn’t think you’d feel too strongly about the whole ordeal, but seeing her so clueless and carefree while you’re suffering is driving you up a wall.
“Hey, you’re the girl that gave me the ninja turtle bandaids.” The red and blue one chuckles, schooling her posture and expression into something a little less rigid. “Are you lost?”
All you can do in this moment is glare at her. Why does she get to be relaxed? She probably doesn’t even have a real job! Who knows, maybe she steals from the city fund. For all any of you know, she might be working with the government to stage her ‘heroic deeds’.
Spidey senses the lack of enthusiasm from your end. She tilts her head before asking a follow-up question. “Not lost?”
You scoff, “No, I’m not lost. I’m here for you.”
Even through the mask, you can see her cocky smirk when she answers. “Well, I’m flattered, but—”
“Oh my fuck, do you ever shut up?” You snap, frustrated by her ego getting in the way of you getting to the bottom of this.
“Woah, hey, I mean no harm. What do you need?” The woman finally stops teasing. She squints a little to show that she’s no longer screwing around.
“Look, you and whatever voodoo shit you’re pulling is getting on my last nerve. Quit it, or I will find you.” As serious as you are about your threat, even you know how pathetic it sounds when it’s directed at Spider-Woman. What’re you gonna do? Empty her webshooters?
Despite all that, Spidey still appears to be taking you seriously somehow. It’s almost like your words actually mean something to her. You wonder if she’s like this with all the citizens she meets.
“Come again? I’m not sure I follow…”
“The visions. The dreams. Why do I keep dreaming about you?”
“Why do you think I have something to do with this? People have recurring dreams of others all the time.”
“No—these, they’re—they’re different.” You start to stammer, arguing against her statement. “They feel so… real. I know something’s going on, and I know you’re involved. They only started after the first time I met you.”
“I’m sorry, miss, I wish I could help… I don’t know what’s up with that.”
“They’re.. But they’re so vivid. It feels like witchcraft, or—or something,” you start to hesitate, not feeling as certain as you did two hours ago.
She shrugs, repeating her answer with true honesty. “I can’t help you with this. I don’t know, really.”
Your shoulders sag and you nod, taking a deep inhale. “Alright. Alright. Uhm, thanks anyway. Sorry for stalking you.”
Spider-Woman doesn’t give an immediate reply. Instead, she lingers, her hand moving to tug on her pinky and ring fingers. You glance down, noticing that miniscule gesture.
Without thinking, your hand comes up and reaches forward to touch the gloved hands in front of you, as if with the intent to soothe her concern. You stop yourself just in time, wondering what made you have that urge in the first place.
Ellie notices your reaction, of course. She notices every single thing about you. Her heart aches a little. Your body remembers how you held her hands whenever she played anxiously with her fingers. Under school desks during class. In lines for events and concerts. While listening to the news. After Tony died.
That easy, signature smirk still returns, and Spidey gives you a wink before lifting her arm and shooting a distant web. “See you around.”
And she’s gone.
You: hey!! r u busy?
Ellie: hii
Ellie: nah, not really. Why?
You: awesome :) meet me at this location, they make some meaaannn burritos
Ellie: lmfao sure. be there in ten.
You: dont keep me waiting :p
You smile at your phone after sending a link to Delmar’s Deli-Grocery before turning it off and sliding it into your pocket. That plan you made to talk to Spider-Woman was a total bust. She knows nothing about the dreams. All you need right now is a distraction, something to get your mind off of things. Ellie’s great. She’s funny and kind. Spending time with her would definitely do you some good. And you can’t be alone right now. If you’re left alone whenever you feel like this, you’ll spiral or feel awful for the rest of the day. Too awful to get by. You can’t do it.
Something about Ellie drags you in. There’s no denying how beautiful she is with her emerald eyes, her blooming freckles, and her deep auburn hair, but it’s not that. Her words captivate you. She doesn’t speak much, but when she does? It’s like it’s something that should just stay between you two.
She’s thoughtful, too. She recently gifted you a little planner she saw you eyeing at the mall the other day. You told her in passing that it seemed useful, but she never forgot. It’s the same with conversation, too. Ellie’s the type of person who will remember something you casually mention during a story, and she’ll bring it up later on when it’s relevant again unprompted. She’s never the type to dismiss you, either. Whenever your thoughts oppose, she actually listens to your perspective. She hears you out even if nobody else will.
You’ve taken a liking to her. She’s…everything you needed. She has this energy that keeps you in a chokehold you don’t think you can get out of. Her hands, calloused yet still so delicate with you, carry answers to questions you might not even know you have yet. Something about her makes you need to be around her. It feels like your very body is going through withdrawals from a drug you didn’t even know existed. You need Ellie. You just need her to be around, especially after what just happened.
Maybe you won’t admit how you feel just yet. It’ll probably take long for that to happen. For now, like with everything else, you’ll keep your heart’s desire tucked away until holding it in becomes physically inconceivable or too painful. What if the girl you’re longing for is straight? What if she already has someone?
The bell above the entrance rings, and looking under it, you recognize Ellie’s signature low bun. You push yourself off from the wall you were leaning against and make your way towards her.
“You made it,” you smile slightly. It’s more tender than the smiles you’d give Jesse or Dina.
“Why wouldn’t I?” She asks, confused but still smiling back.
“Well, this deli sells the best sandwiches you’ll ever eat. I was craving it for lunch and didn’t really wanna go by myself.” You admit, approaching the counter.
“Hey, Mr. Delmar,” you chirp, knowing this guy likes you because you’ve been coming here since you were a high school freshman. “Sandwiches, please. Two, this time.”
“You boost my customer count, kid.” He grins, pointing at you as a raspy laugh leaves him. “Two sandwiches.”
You chuckle back and hand him the money you owe before Ellie can argue and pay. You know she’s broke as shit.
Mr. Delmar hands you the sandwiches with a wink behind Ellie’s back and you shoot him a look, but your little smirk betrays you. With the food in hand, you decide to walk to Central Park, finding a bench to sit on while you eat.
“Do you feel alright?” Ellie asks between mouthfuls, facing you with her legs crossed on the bench. “You seem a little pale.”
You pause and furrow your eyebrows, pulling away from your sandwich when she catches you off guard. “I’m…Yeah, I’m fine. Do I look pale?”
“Not pale pale, it’s—it looks like there’s something on your mind.”
You stare at her for a beat, then down at your sandwich before lowering your hands and murmuring in a lower voice. “Uhm, well, I guess there’s something.”
Ellie simply nods, nudging you to keep going.
“I’ve been getting visions. Dreams. I don’t know what they are anymore. “You groan, closing your eyes in frustration about all this.
“Visions?”
“Kinda? I dunno… They’re all about Spider-Woman, and they all feel so vivid. They don’t feel like they’re ‘just’ dreams, Ellie. I feel crazy, but they hurt. And I’ve been getting these awful migraines and random headaches, and they’re only getting worse. It’s almost unbearable.”
“You’re not crazy.” Ellie mumbles. “People get visions sometimes. You think meds would help with the headaches?”
“I tried painkillers. The stronger shit too. They don’t do anything.”
“Maybe you’ve been interested in Spider-Woman? I used to have vivid dreams as a kid. The migraines might be from stress…”
You shrug. “That could be it, but it’s still annoying.”
“Try to wait it out. See how you feel.”
A weak huff of laughter leaves your lips. “Well, it’s not like I can do much else.”
“Let’s get ice cream after this. My treat, so you feel better.” Ellie gives a small, calm smile, the one that makes you feel less hopeless about things.
Slowly, you and Ellie fall back into an easier rhythm, leaving the negativity behind now that it’s out of your system. Even as your head pounds with that same ache with her in front of you, you turn a blind eye as much as you can to savor this moment.
Ellie’s good with a mask. You don’t feel an inch of the fear that engulfed her after your confession. She’s worried because why would you be getting visions of her as Spider-Woman?! If there’s one thing the multiverse and Dr. Strange taught Ellie, it’s that nothing happens without reason.
How could you be involved in this?
On the way, you and Ellie find yourselves taking the long route to the ice cream parlor. The two of you collectively went the wrong way a couple of times for the sake of walking a little while longer.
When you finally stop at the pastel rainbow colored shop, Ellie taps on the glass to show you a flavor. She points at your favorite.
“Salted caramel?” She suggests, giving you a questioning look even though she already knows.
You smile, and your face feels a little warmer than before. “How’d you know it’s my favorite?”
Something flickers across Ellie’s face. Her smile drops for a second, but she smoothly schools it into something more offhand as she shrugs. “I didn’t. Just picked a random flavor.”
“So, salted caramel it is.”
“What the hell could that have been, Happy?!” Ellie exclaims, pacing in front of her station while her newfound ally watches from his desk. “She’s getting visions. Didn’t you get a vision before you remembered me?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“So she’s close! She’ll remember me soon, right? That makes sense!”
“Ellie—”
“I just have to stay close to her. Proximity is what triggers it. You were around me for hours at a time every day, so by that logic, I should spend more time with her, and Jesse, and Dina, and then they’ll—”
“Are you gonna let me speak?” Happy raises his voice, maintaining his tone enough to get Ellie to pause without startling her. The girl nods once, stopping in her tracks to face him.
Happy stands up and leans against the edge of the table. “Look, kid. When I remembered you, it hurt. Bad. I mean,” he chuckles. “I thought I was dying back there. Don’t you think you should give it some time? Let it happen without rushing it? You said she’s getting migraines, and they’re pretty bad, and we both know you were closer to her than to me. It might only be worse for her.”
Silence washes over the lab as Ellie mulls over what Happy just said. She looks down at her beat up Converse.
“I…I really miss her, Happy.” She mumbles eventually. “She looks at me like I’m just some college friend now. Like I haven’t known her since grade school.”
“I know, Ellie. But give it time. Forcing it will hurt her.”
“Yeah…yeah, you’re right.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. I have a surprise.” Happy smirks, a light bulb turning on in his head now that Ellie’s satisfied with his advice.
Ellie’s brows knit together, but she gives a cautious little smile. “What is it?”
Hogan leads her to Tony’s old office, and he walks over to a large Stark family portrait with the man himself, Pepper, and Morgan. He taps a few concealed buttons on the painting, and the whole frame shifts slightly to the left. Ellie can’t really say she’s surprised.
He pulls out this glowy, metal briefcase. A pit forms in Ellie’s stomach, and her heart starts to beat louder and louder. She recognizes that thing.
“Holy shit, is that…”
Happy smiles before she can continue. He brings the briefcase to the table between the two chairs in front of Tony’s old desk and gently sets it down.
“I figured out how to rig the system and add your biometrics…” He murmurs, entering a code before pressing two buttons on each side of the case. It opens with a soft whirring sound and Ellie has to stifle a quiet gasp.
Inside the case is a brand new suit, designed just like the last one she made with Tony’s tech. Her heart flutters as she takes a step closer to examine the new suit. The mask rests delicately, each web perfectly placed on the fabric she once loved and cherished. It’s nothing like the old stuff she wears that barely fits her probably.
Beside the mask and suit resides a pair of brand new webshooters. They’re a sleek, glossy black and clearly look more advanced than her at-home science project. She takes one out with a tentative touch and puts it on. It snaps into place around her wrist and even adjusts to fit her perfectly. She extends her arm all the way and aims up at the window. With the smallest press, a powerful web slices the air like a bullet, leaving a thick, sturdy mark on the black leather.
It brings tears to her eyes. The sight of what once was a guaranteed object in her life, now presented to her all over again like it wasn’t her property before. But he knows. Happy knows. He remembers. He’s the only current living proof of Ellie’s presence and existence on this Earth from beyond a couple of months.
He pulls an earpiece out of the case, placed with obvious care on top of the expensive red and blue material, and hands it to her. His eyes glisten with the emotion of seeing the start of her return to her former glory.
Ellie puts it on, and a feminine, robotic voice resounds from the tiny device.
🕷 word count ~ 3k
🕷 content warning ~ flashbacks, memory loss, mentions of grief, profanity, yearning, no use of y/n, mild violence, uncertainty, self doubt, stalking and mild obsession, light angst
🕷 SYNOPSIS ~ Your visions start to seriously bother you, so you find yourself in a pursuit of the mysterious web-slinger, while she struggles to brush off how much she longs for you.
A/N: RAAAHHHHHH SPIDER-MAN BND COMING OUT TOMORROW OMHOMGOMOMG IM SEEING IT ON OPENING DAYYY!!! quick reminder that this story isn't based on bnd, but it is an interpretation of it in a sense!! dont come at me if its inaccurate lmfao bc i already know it wont be. i made this story up and it simply picks up where nwh left off but with ellie as spidey. hope you enjoy!! i HAD to get one more chapter in before the movie release
Likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!
<- previous —— next ->
-series masterlist- -masterlist-
Sticky notes, newspapers, files. They all litter your desk. So much so that you can’t see the wooden surface anymore. Some are stained with coffee rings, some are crumpled after being retrieved from trash cans and such. Some nights, you forget to sleep. Others, you forget that day and night are separate.
A week has passed since you started your search. Maybe a little more. You never officially ‘started’ anything, to be fair. Things keep pointing to your friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman. Your visions, your dreams. You’ve personally met her more times than most other New Yorkers. You aren’t involved in law enforcement, nor are you a reporter. So, why does she keep showing up?
It started with you simply reading articles you happened to come across. Your suspicions (and the algorithms of your socials) promptly led you to go on this wild goose chase for the infamous vigilante. You don’t even know how the sticky notes started.
As of right now, your closest lead is Spider-Woman’s patrol route. You were able to deduce that she has a weekly schedule for her rounds around New York City. On Mondays, she’s usually around ESU. She also often makes a stop at a certain alleyway, according to the footage you found online, so that’s exactly where you’ll be camping all morning!
You set up a little too early, reaching the spot at around six in the morning. It’s not like you slept at all last night. This has been keeping you up for days. These visions…they’ve been getting worse. You keep seeing her, and they keep getting more realistic. You were scared to sleep, truth be told. They got more violent with time, and they always left you feeling shaken.
Two nights ago, you felt it. One minute, you were in bed trying to sleep, and the next, you were trapped under rubble. You felt the weight on top of you. You felt the searing scratches scattered across your flesh, leaving fresh crimson marks that made it hard to move. Next to you was a torn red mask—Spider-Woman’s. Hazy, you crawled towards it and held it close. Then, the large chunk of sidewalk above you flew upwards, having been suspended by a web. For a second, you almost saw a blurred, pale, freckled face, but the concrete fell right back down on top of you, waking you up earlier than you would’ve wanted. If you could’ve just seen her face…
You just had a double shot espresso, though. You’ll be fine with no sleep.
An hour passes. Then two. You definitely came here too early. Every swipe you make on your phone takes away one percent. You should probably get your phone battery replaced. What was the battery health again? Your thumb presses on the grey app to check the battery, but you’re interrupted by the swift sound of wind and the quiet landing of feet against pavement.
Spider-Woman is right in front of you. She doesn’t seem to know you’re here yet. You take a step closer, and only then does she wheel around and look straight at you. Her lenses are comically wide, portraying the surprise she probably feels from seeing a random person in her usual alleyway.
Now, you’re just pissed. You didn’t think you’d feel too strongly about the whole ordeal, but seeing her so clueless and carefree while you’re suffering is driving you up a wall.
“Hey, you’re the girl that gave me the ninja turtle bandaids.” The red and blue one chuckles, schooling her posture and expression into something a little less rigid. “Are you lost?”
All you can do in this moment is glare at her. Why does she get to be relaxed? She probably doesn’t even have a real job! Who knows, maybe she steals from the city fund. For all any of you know, she might be working with the government to stage her ‘heroic deeds’.
Spidey senses the lack of enthusiasm from your end. She tilts her head before asking a follow-up question. “Not lost?”
You scoff, “No, I’m not lost. I’m here for you.”
Even through the mask, you can see her cocky smirk when she answers. “Well, I’m flattered, but—”
“Oh my fuck, do you ever shut up?” You snap, frustrated by her ego getting in the way of you getting to the bottom of this.
“Woah, hey, I mean no harm. What do you need?” The woman finally stops teasing. She squints a little to show that she’s no longer screwing around.
“Look, you and whatever voodoo shit you’re pulling is getting on my last nerve. Quit it, or I will find you.” As serious as you are about your threat, even you know how pathetic it sounds when it’s directed at Spider-Woman. What’re you gonna do? Empty her webshooters?
Despite all that, Spidey still appears to be taking you seriously somehow. It’s almost like your words actually mean something to her. You wonder if she’s like this with all the citizens she meets.
“Come again? I’m not sure I follow…”
“The visions. The dreams. Why do I keep dreaming about you?”
“Why do you think I have something to do with this? People have recurring dreams of others all the time.”
“No—these, they’re—they’re different.” You start to stammer, arguing against her statement. “They feel so… real. I know something’s going on, and I know you’re involved. They only started after the first time I met you.”
“I’m sorry, miss, I wish I could help… I don’t know what’s up with that.”
“They’re.. But they’re so vivid. It feels like witchcraft, or—or something,” you start to hesitate, not feeling as certain as you did two hours ago.
She shrugs, repeating her answer with true honesty. “I can’t help you with this. I don’t know, really.”
Your shoulders sag and you nod, taking a deep inhale. “Alright. Alright. Uhm, thanks anyway. Sorry for stalking you.”
Spider-Woman doesn’t give an immediate reply. Instead, she lingers, her hand moving to tug on her pinky and ring fingers. You glance down, noticing that miniscule gesture.
Without thinking, your hand comes up and reaches forward to touch the gloved hands in front of you, as if with the intent to soothe her concern. You stop yourself just in time, wondering what made you have that urge in the first place.
Ellie notices your reaction, of course. She notices every single thing about you. Her heart aches a little. Your body remembers how you held her hands whenever she played anxiously with her fingers. Under school desks during class. In lines for events and concerts. While listening to the news. After Tony died.
That easy, signature smirk still returns, and Spidey gives you a wink before lifting her arm and shooting a distant web. “See you around.”
And she’s gone.
You: hey!! r u busy?
Ellie: hii
Ellie: nah, not really. Why?
You: awesome :) meet me at this location, they make some meaaannn burritos
Ellie: lmfao sure. be there in ten.
You: dont keep me waiting :p
You smile at your phone after sending a link to Delmar’s Deli-Grocery before turning it off and sliding it into your pocket. That plan you made to talk to Spider-Woman was a total bust. She knows nothing about the dreams. All you need right now is a distraction, something to get your mind off of things. Ellie’s great. She’s funny and kind. Spending time with her would definitely do you some good. And you can’t be alone right now. If you’re left alone whenever you feel like this, you’ll spiral or feel awful for the rest of the day. Too awful to get by. You can’t do it.
Something about Ellie drags you in. There’s no denying how beautiful she is with her emerald eyes, her blooming freckles, and her deep auburn hair, but it’s not that. Her words captivate you. She doesn’t speak much, but when she does? It’s like it’s something that should just stay between you two.
She’s thoughtful, too. She recently gifted you a little planner she saw you eyeing at the mall the other day. You told her in passing that it seemed useful, but she never forgot. It’s the same with conversation, too. Ellie’s the type of person who will remember something you casually mention during a story, and she’ll bring it up later on when it’s relevant again unprompted. She’s never the type to dismiss you, either. Whenever your thoughts oppose, she actually listens to your perspective. She hears you out even if nobody else will.
You’ve taken a liking to her. She’s…everything you needed. She has this energy that keeps you in a chokehold you don’t think you can get out of. Her hands, calloused yet still so delicate with you, carry answers to questions you might not even know you have yet. Something about her makes you need to be around her. It feels like your very body is going through withdrawals from a drug you didn’t even know existed. You need Ellie. You just need her to be around, especially after what just happened.
Maybe you won’t admit how you feel just yet. It’ll probably take long for that to happen. For now, like with everything else, you’ll keep your heart’s desire tucked away until holding it in becomes physically inconceivable or too painful. What if the girl you’re longing for is straight? What if she already has someone?
The bell above the entrance rings, and looking under it, you recognize Ellie’s signature low bun. You push yourself off from the wall you were leaning against and make your way towards her.
“You made it,” you smile slightly. It’s more tender than the smiles you’d give Jesse or Dina.
“Why wouldn’t I?” She asks, confused but still smiling back.
“Well, this deli sells the best sandwiches you’ll ever eat. I was craving it for lunch and didn’t really wanna go by myself.” You admit, approaching the counter.
“Hey, Mr. Delmar,” you chirp, knowing this guy likes you because you’ve been coming here since you were a high school freshman. “Sandwiches, please. Two, this time.”
“You boost my customer count, kid.” He grins, pointing at you as a raspy laugh leaves him. “Two sandwiches.”
You chuckle back and hand him the money you owe before Ellie can argue and pay. You know she’s broke as shit.
Mr. Delmar hands you the sandwiches with a wink behind Ellie’s back and you shoot him a look, but your little smirk betrays you. With the food in hand, you decide to walk to Central Park, finding a bench to sit on while you eat.
“Do you feel alright?” Ellie asks between mouthfuls, facing you with her legs crossed on the bench. “You seem a little pale.”
You pause and furrow your eyebrows, pulling away from your sandwich when she catches you off guard. “I’m…Yeah, I’m fine. Do I look pale?”
“Not pale pale, it’s—it looks like there’s something on your mind.”
You stare at her for a beat, then down at your sandwich before lowering your hands and murmuring in a lower voice. “Uhm, well, I guess there’s something.”
Ellie simply nods, nudging you to keep going.
“I’ve been getting visions. Dreams. I don’t know what they are anymore. “You groan, closing your eyes in frustration about all this.
“Visions?”
“Kinda? I dunno… They’re all about Spider-Woman, and they all feel so vivid. They don’t feel like they’re ‘just’ dreams, Ellie. I feel crazy, but they hurt. And I’ve been getting these awful migraines and random headaches, and they’re only getting worse. It’s almost unbearable.”
“You’re not crazy.” Ellie mumbles. “People get visions sometimes. You think meds would help with the headaches?”
“I tried painkillers. The stronger shit too. They don’t do anything.”
“Maybe you’ve been interested in Spider-Woman? I used to have vivid dreams as a kid. The migraines might be from stress…”
You shrug. “That could be it, but it’s still annoying.”
“Try to wait it out. See how you feel.”
A weak huff of laughter leaves your lips. “Well, it’s not like I can do much else.”
“Let’s get ice cream after this. My treat, so you feel better.” Ellie gives a small, calm smile, the one that makes you feel less hopeless about things.
Slowly, you and Ellie fall back into an easier rhythm, leaving the negativity behind now that it’s out of your system. Even as your head pounds with that same ache with her in front of you, you turn a blind eye as much as you can to savor this moment.
Ellie’s good with a mask. You don’t feel an inch of the fear that engulfed her after your confession. She’s worried because why would you be getting visions of her as Spider-Woman?! If there’s one thing the multiverse and Dr. Strange taught Ellie, it’s that nothing happens without reason.
How could you be involved in this?
On the way, you and Ellie find yourselves taking the long route to the ice cream parlor. The two of you collectively went the wrong way a couple of times for the sake of walking a little while longer.
When you finally stop at the pastel rainbow colored shop, Ellie taps on the glass to show you a flavor. She points at your favorite.
“Salted caramel?” She suggests, giving you a questioning look even though she already knows.
You smile, and your face feels a little warmer than before. “How’d you know it’s my favorite?”
Something flickers across Ellie’s face. Her smile drops for a second, but she smoothly schools it into something more offhand as she shrugs. “I didn’t. Just picked a random flavor.”
“So, salted caramel it is.”
“What the hell could that have been, Happy?!” Ellie exclaims, pacing in front of her station while her newfound ally watches from his desk. “She’s getting visions. Didn’t you get a vision before you remembered me?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“So she’s close! She’ll remember me soon, right? That makes sense!”
“Ellie—”
“I just have to stay close to her. Proximity is what triggers it. You were around me for hours at a time every day, so by that logic, I should spend more time with her, and Jesse, and Dina, and then they’ll—”
“Are you gonna let me speak?” Happy raises his voice, maintaining his tone enough to get Ellie to pause without startling her. The girl nods once, stopping in her tracks to face him.
Happy stands up and leans against the edge of the table. “Look, kid. When I remembered you, it hurt. Bad. I mean,” he chuckles. “I thought I was dying back there. Don’t you think you should give it some time? Let it happen without rushing it? You said she’s getting migraines, and they’re pretty bad, and we both know you were closer to her than to me. It might only be worse for her.”
Silence washes over the lab as Ellie mulls over what Happy just said. She looks down at her beat up Converse.
“I…I really miss her, Happy.” She mumbles eventually. “She looks at me like I’m just some college friend now. Like I haven’t known her since grade school.”
“I know, Ellie. But give it time. Forcing it will hurt her.”
“Yeah…yeah, you’re right.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. I have a surprise.” Happy smirks, a light bulb turning on in his head now that Ellie’s satisfied with his advice.
Ellie’s brows knit together, but she gives a cautious little smile. “What is it?”
Hogan leads her to Tony’s old office, and he walks over to a large Stark family portrait with the man himself, Pepper, and Morgan. He taps a few concealed buttons on the painting, and the whole frame shifts slightly to the left. Ellie can’t really say she’s surprised.
He pulls out this glowy, metal briefcase. A pit forms in Ellie’s stomach, and her heart starts to beat louder and louder. She recognizes that thing.
“Holy shit, is that…”
Happy smiles before she can continue. He brings the briefcase to the table between the two chairs in front of Tony’s old desk and gently sets it down.
“I figured out how to rig the system and add your biometrics…” He murmurs, entering a code before pressing two buttons on each side of the case. It opens with a soft whirring sound and Ellie has to stifle a quiet gasp.
Inside the case is a brand new suit, designed just like the last one she made with Tony’s tech. Her heart flutters as she takes a step closer to examine the new suit. The mask rests delicately, each web perfectly placed on the fabric she once loved and cherished. It’s nothing like the old stuff she wears that barely fits her probably.
Beside the mask and suit resides a pair of brand new webshooters. They’re a sleek, glossy black and clearly look more advanced than her at-home science project. She takes one out with a tentative touch and puts it on. It snaps into place around her wrist and even adjusts to fit her perfectly. She extends her arm all the way and aims up at the window. With the smallest press, a powerful web slices the air like a bullet, leaving a thick, sturdy mark on the black leather.
It brings tears to her eyes. The sight of what once was a guaranteed object in her life, now presented to her all over again like it wasn’t her property before. But he knows. Happy knows. He remembers. He’s the only current living proof of Ellie’s presence and existence on this Earth from beyond a couple of months.
He pulls an earpiece out of the case, placed with obvious care on top of the expensive red and blue material, and hands it to her. His eyes glisten with the emotion of seeing the start of her return to her former glory.
Ellie puts it on, and a feminine, robotic voice resounds from the tiny device.
~1.6k words | hurt/comfort | canon!au | idea thanks to @elleloquently 🤍
First patrol with your girlfriend. You think it would be fun, right? No. Ellie has been a little shit since you both arrived to the stables.
She'd been micromanaging you all morning, turning into your own personal drill sergeant. "You have your gun?" You sigh. "Yes, Ellie," you monotone. "And you have your first aid?" You fight the urge to roll your eyes. "Yes, Ellie," you groan. "And don't forget—"
"Ellie," you interrupt, "I have everything, we've double checked, like, five times."
"Don't sass me," she retorts. You turn to her with a smile, thinking she's joking. Your face drops flat when you realize she's not.
"Alright, let's get on the road," she mumbles, climbing on top of shimmer. You follow suit, mounting your own horse and giving her an assuring pat. "Let's go, Pumpkin," you whisper to her. Shimmer gallops off first, you and Pumpkin following close behind.
Spring. The air is crisp, making your nose hairs tingle. The snow is finally melting, though what remains is brown and sludgy. Nonetheless, you're happy it's warming up and that nature's coming back into fruition.
Ellie's raspy voice interrupts your thoughts. "There's an abandoned shop up ahead. It's our first stop," she declares. "We'll make sure it's clear then move on. Stay close to me, understand?" You verbally agree, but discreetly protest by mocking her behind her back.
When you finally arrive, you get off and give Pumpkin a kiss on her nose. "Be right back," you tell her. "Stop dilly dallying and come on," Ellie commands, eliciting a frustrated huff from you.
For your first patrol, things had been going surprisingly smooth. There was no sign of infected so far, and while looking in the stale, abandoned remains, you even found a couple cute trinkets to take home. Ellie had calmed down a bit, still on alert, but less of a dick.
The sun is now overhead as noon approaches. Dark clouds loom in the distance, but luckily you're at your last stop. As you walk inside the ghost of a convenience store, the two of you split up to quickly clear it. From the corner of your eyes, you see the glare from a porcelain angel figure on the ground. Perfect for your collection at home. You go to pick it up, but you pause when you hear Ellie frantically calling your name behind you.
You snap your neck around, met face to face with a stalker. You fall to the ground, startled, watching it approach you. It doesn't register to you that your gun is on you, nor do you try to crawl away. You cover your ears with your hands, squeezing your eyes shut, preparing for the worst.
Bang! Bang!
You slowly open your eyes, your coat splattered with blood, the stalker now down in front of you. Ellie breathes heavily, refusing to look at you. A dreadful sense of embarrassment grows in your stomach. You stand up, head hung low. Ellie is completely silent, and right now, you prefer that over her explosive temper.
"I've been telling you to pay attention. Can you just fucking do what I ask for once?" Ellie doesn't even give you a chance to reply before she continues berating you. "I can't patrol if I have to fucking babysit you the whole time."
"I'm sorry," you mumble, focusing on the deformed infected on the floor. Ellie exhales sharply. "You're sorry? If I didn't notice you would be fucking dead!" She exclaims. "Why the fuck would you just sit there?" Ellie throws her hands up, making you flinch though she was across the room. "This is why I didn't want you on patrol. I knew you couldn't handle it." You chew on the inside of your cheek, holding back from crying in front of her. "I'm sorry," you repeat, wiping blood from your face. Ellie scoffs at you, shaking her head.
She runs her palm over head, smoothing the frayed hairs framing her face. "Let's go."
The ride back feels like a walk of shame. Your belly twists with nausea, hands shaking while holding the reigns. Shimmer trots ahead and Ellie doesn't turn back to look at you once. Rain patters against the ground, then, it starts pouring. You finally allow yourself to cry, quieting yourself by covering your mouth with the back of your hand.
You arrived back in Jackson, relieved to be somewhere familiar. You're thankful Pumpkin's stall was on the other side of the stables from Shimmer's. The horse's saddle is sluggishly taken off, Pumpkin snorting and nickering.
You were grateful for the downpour; no one was outside to see you sob on your walk back home.
The bloody and muddied clothes are thrown into the corner of your bathroom. Every time you look at them, the unsettling face (or what was a face) of the stalker shows up vividly in your mind then the anguishing moments after replay.
You spend time self-loathing on the floor of your shower, curled up with your head in your knees. You only get out when you notice how pruned your fingers look. The closet creaks open as you pull on the tarnished brass handles, the sound making your teeth hurt. You grab the first set of clothes you find— a tank and a pair soft shorts you had sewn from torn up curtains.
Your room is practically pitch black, only light coming from a distant streetlight. A tiny chill flows through, perfect for burrowing under your thick blankets.
Ellie knows she's probably the last person you want to see right now, and seeing your heartbroken face will just make her feel worse. She stayed behind at the stable all day, doing anything that kept her head off of you. It didn't work, though. All she could think about is how scared you looked back at the shop; lip quivering and your hands shaking over your ears. She should at least make sure you're alright.
Ellie raises her hand to knock, but quickly drops it, already regretting walking over here. It's too late now, though, so she lightly knocks on the door, heart pounding in her chest. No answer. She knocks again much harder, but still, no reply.
She starts to panic, thinking the worst. Is she alive in there? She just sleeping probably, right? Is she ignoring me? Just as she goes to knock again, the door cracks open slightly. All Ellie can see is one reddened eye peering out at her.
"Hey, baby," she says softly. "Can we talk?" You nod, not trusting your voice. The both of you stand there awkwardly for a minute. "Um, inside, maybe," she suggests, and you finally open the door a bit wider.
Ellie hesitantly walks inside, a place that usually felt like a warm home away from home was now dark and lifeless. Ellie watches you trudge over back to your bed, covering yourself in the blankets again with only the top half of your head peeking out.
She removes her muddy boots at the entrance, then meanders over to you, socks padding against the hardwood floors. You feel the bed sink just faintly, so you can tell she's sitting far.
Ellie clears her throat, palms gliding back and forth over her jeans. "Are you, um, okay?" She knows its a stupid question, of course you're not, but she doesn't know how else to start. You nod your head once, eyes focused ahead of you.
Ellie breathes out, licking her chapped lips. "I'm sorry that yelled at you and said… all those mean things." Ellie looks over to you, no reaction apparent from you at all. "I just," she whispers," I was so worried about something happening to you. I was frustrated that you were just sitting there, I guess."
You turn your head further away from her, eyes welling up with tears. She watches you intently, not sure how to fix this— wondering if she even can. "But, I know you were probably just really scared, and I didn't help by yelling at you." Ellie feels like she's talking to herself at this point, yet she can't complain considering how much of a jerk she was.
She scoots closer to you, prying the tightly wrapped blanket away. Ellie wraps an arm around you and pulling you into her. "I know you're mad at me but I'm gonna hold you anyway," she mumbles, rubbing her hand up and down your back, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Ellie has learned you don't need space during conflict, you need reassurance. You allow yourself to relax after a while, settling into her.
She leans over, trying to get a look at you. Ellie feels a pang in her chest as soon as she sees your tear-streaked, pouty face. "My poor baby," she coos. Your eyes start to tear up again, teeth digging into your bottom lip. Ellie presses a kiss to the corner of your lip, then another one on your cheek. She can taste the salt from stray tears on her tongue.
Ellie reaches out to wipe your face, calloused fingers gentle on your cheeks. She coaxes you to lay down, pulling the blanket over the both of you and cradling you impossibly close. You grip onto her hoodie, Ellie's face warming at the feeling of you holding her. She murmurs apologies and sweet words into your ear, each one like soothing waves washing over you, the heaviness of shame in your body being swept away the tide.
🕷 word count ~ 3.1k
🕷 content warning ~ vague flashback, memory loss, mentions of grief, profanity, no use of y/n, ellie still loves matcha, pls comment if I missed anything
🕷 SYNOPSIS ~ Happy’s finally back from his leave. Ellie starts to socialize instead of running away like last time, but your own thoughts start to betray you.
A/N: a big and special thank you to the one and only @elleloquently for proofreading and helping me with the plot!! I love u so so much cutie <3 alsooo thank you guys sm once again for being patient with the slow updates, I'm honestly pretty proud of this chapter so I hope you enjoy it too c:
Likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!
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It’s been a few days. Happy’s back. The bags under his eyes tell what his words wouldn’t. Dragging his legs toward the elevator, he presses the button that reads ‘64’ and waits to reach the floor with some of the biological labs. He’s supposed to be meeting Ellie there. She’s probably already working on something at her assigned workspace.
He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to see her without getting sick. Working, acting like this is nothing more than an internship. He knows what she’s doing now; it’s clear as day. Before his leave, she’s been working on a weird, sticky solution and fragments from Tony’s scrapped suits.
The door slides open after FRIDAY’s voice detection. Happy steps in, and it feels like all the energy gets sucked out of the room. Ellie pauses, perking up a little at the sight of him. That’s short-lived, though, after she sees his expression.
Did someone die?
“Morning, Happy…” She murmurs slowly, pulling away from the robotic arm she was just dissecting.
Before answering, Happy stands and stares, arms loose at his sides, hair unkept, mind blank except for the image of her in this same lab just a couple of months ago.
“Hey, kid.” He finally manages to croak out, walking deeper into the lab and finding the log at the very back to see what he missed.
…Wait.
Kid?
Happy and Tony used to call her that all the time. Ellie’s head snaps towards him as she processes it. Minding his own business, completely consumed by his own thoughts and memories.
Coincidence…? Maybe. But it hit her too close to home.
If there’s one word to describe what Happy’s feeling, it’d be grief. Grief of whatever he missed out on in Ellie’s life, what with the start of her years in college and her having to be Spider-Woman presumably all on her own.
“You okay?” Ellie speaks after a beat during which she debates herself to say anything. “You seem tired.”
Again, Happy doesn’t give an immediate response. He turns to look at her, and it is then that Ellie realizes his eyes are bloodshot. He’s either exhausted and depressed or high, and she doubts it’s the latter. He doesn’t seem like the type.
“Never been better,” the man mutters, turning his gaze away from the auburnette before his voice comes out.
Yeah, right. It’s not her place to push, so she just gives him a look before shrugging and reluctantly turning back to the robo-arm. She knocks the welding helmet back down in front of her face.
While using a welding machine, a spark flies onto a sliver of skin exposed under Ellie’s sleeve. She flinches backwards and a hiss escapes from between her teeth.
“Careful!” Happy snaps, shooting her a glare from where he’s sitting. “God, don’t lose your arm, genius. I’m not doing the paperwork.”
She can’t help but stare at him in surprise through the mask she’s wearing. He hasn’t snapped at her like that since… well, since before she started this internship. He usually just reminds her that mistakes are part of progress.
“Jeez, sorry…” She mumbles before resuming her task, albeit tense and a little shaky. She’s not used to Happy being like this. He’s usually… well, happy.
He doesn’t stop scrutinizing her even then. His eyes follow every single movement, every twitch of her finger, every hitch of her breath. She can feel the pair of pupils boring into her, dismembering her very soul into its purest form.
Ellie can’t shake it off. She’s dropped her screwdriver three times now, her hands trembling too much because of the pressure Happy’s silently putting on her. If there’s one thing she hates, it’s being watched. Especially when it’s this intense.
“Mr. Hogan, is something wrong?” Ellie finally cracks under the stress. She turns her head to look at him and pulls her hands away from the machinery.
Happy doesn’t verbally respond. A single, concise shake of the head is all he settles on, chin held up by his palm. His gaze refuses to falter.
Ellie tries to pay attention. Really, she does.
She knows something is up. Her heart knows what her mind wishes not to.
A beat passes, then two.
“You really aren’t gonna tell me?” Happy finally, finally speaks up. His words come out softer, more pained than it had sounded all day since his return.
“What?” The girl breathes out, putting her tools down and fully removing her helmet as she senses the seriousness of what is beginning to unfold.
“You know exactly what, Ellie.” His voice returns to today’s sharpness, but still, something about it sounds so pained. It hits Ellie right where it hurts. He doesn’t care like that anymore. Can’t.
…
He’s only called her ‘Williams’ since she started.
“I don’t,” she manages to mumble, still confused for the most part.
“Don’t do that.”
“—You were at Tess’ funeral.”
The ground might as well have swallowed her whole. In that instant, Ellie felt miniscule yet infinite. Terrified, yet filled with the relief of a thousand soldiers in a winning war. Her mind pauses, actually goes silent for the first time since everything started. Happy’s eyes that felt so scary all day, now hold the answers to everything she’d been asking herself since her entire life collapsed.
“Ellie… Why did I forget you..?” He whispers, leaning closer as his expression contorts with betrayal and sorrow.
“...Happy?” Ellie chokes out, barely. Her eyes redden on their own.
“Ellie.”
“Holy shit…”
“Am… Am I the only one?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you are.” Ellie answers, her voice cracking against her will as it starts to hit her that Happy really remembers.
The man gets up, walks around his desk, and stops right in front of where Ellie’s sitting. She looks up at him, filled with emotions too intertwined to distinguish.
Before she knows it, two heavy arms wrap around her shoulders. She gets up to meet him halfway, holding him with the desperation of a long lost companion.
They stay like that for a while. Ellie lets herself cry a little against his tailored suit, not that he’d care about that right now.
“You should’ve come to me first.” He murmurs, rocking her back and forth while patting her back and trying to calm her down. She doesn’t answer, but she does pull away to wipe her eyes and look at him fully.
After what seems to be him considering something, Happy speaks again.
“I’ll see what I can do for you.”
The three of you sit on the ground, backs against the front of you and Dina’s couch’s base. Jesse brought the sodas and pizza from that one spot you always ate at during high school. You brought the homemade cookies and microwaved popcorn. Even Dina went out of her way to decorate her dorm for tonight’s movie marathon.
Jesse’s broke, so he planned to only get three. He brought four without thought, and only later did he realize there was an extra can.
“Just in case,” he said.
An 80’s horror movie plays in the background, something about zombies and monsters rampaging through the country. The coffee table is littered with snack wrappers and discarded bags and pizza boxes. The only prevailing consumables on there are the half-full soda cans from before. Jesse ended up drinking the extra one. Fatass.
After chugging the rest of his drink when the credits roll, Jesse suggests. “We should make this a thing. Like, a monthly tradition.”
“Awh, that sounds cute,” Dina chimes in.” Like those sleepovers back in high school with—”
With? Dina pauses. With whom?
“Uh… I dunno where I was going with that.” She murmurs, but the uneasiness that fills the room is undeniable.
You all stay silent, suddenly tense after the collective feeling of grief and longing engulfs all three of you.
“Is it just me, or does something feel missing?” You ask, troubled. “I feel like we’re forgetting something.”
Dina clears her throat, brushing off your mutual concern. “We’re probably just tired… What should we watch next?”
“We’re probably just… not used to free time anymore.” Jesse tries to quip, but it doesn’t land even as you and Dina let out strained chuckles.
Dina puts on some rom-com, but none of you end up really watching it.
It’s late now. You decided to call it a night a few hours ago and brought out the sleeping bags to finally get some shut-eye on the living room floor. Falling into the oblivion of your subconscious mind, you encounter another one of those weird dreams you've been having. However, like always, it feels realer than your actual days as of late.
You’re laying beside a figure in bed, in your old bedroom, head on their chest. They’re wearing a space shirt and plaid pajama pants, arms wrapped around your waist. When you look up, their face is covered by Spider-Woman’s mask. It doesn’t last long, and the window shoots open with a loud crash against the walls and a violent gush of air and debris enters your room, swallowing everything whole except for you.
You wake up with a sharp gasp, a cold sweat dragging down your temple. Dina groans and turns in her sleeping bag to face you. Her eyes are squinting, barely open as she forces them to lock onto your unusually sickly complexion. Her expression is one of mild concern and curiosity.
You shake your head once, making a show of getting comfortable and shifting positions. You murmur, quiet enough to not wake Jesse too. “Bad dream. I’m okay.”
Too sleepy to push further, Dina nods and shuts her eyes once again. Five seconds later, you hear her faint snores.
Morning comes, and you, Jesse, and Dina have your statistics class together once again. Since you’re already together, you decide to pass a coffee shop and get drinks first. Of course, you offer to make the order because you’re ‘the experienced one’.
“Why the fourth one?” Jesse asks upon your approach with four coffees instead of just three.
“For Ellie. I thought it’d be rude to not get her some since she sits with us…” You answer, cheeks feeling a little warm.
The other two give you a knowing look, smirking like they know what you’re hiding.
“What?” You grumble before handing them their cups and walking slightly ahead on the sidewalk.
They catch up, giggling at your reaction.
When you arrive, Ellie’s already in her seat, typing in her phone as if to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
You take a seat first. Right in front of her just like last time. Her head shoots up when she hears the screeching of a chair. Jesse and Dina shortly follow.
“Morning,” you speak, sliding Ellie’s coffee across the table.
She looks at it, then she looks back at you. She still hates coffee, but to her? Anything you offer is a gift to be sanctified. “Good morning… This is for me?”
“Why else would I hand it to you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at the silly question. Ellie’s face reddens a bit.
“Sorry about… y’know, ditching class last time and being weird. Rough day, and something came up.” Ellie starts, fidgeting with her pinky and ring fingers as her eyes dart between you and the other two group members.
“Hey, no worries.” You reassure her, nudging the cup closer for her to take.
“Yeah, shit happens.” Dina hums, taking a sip from her own.
As opposed to your last class together, Ellie seems way more willing to actually talk. She asks about the pins on your bag, shares interests with you, and even tells you a little bit about herself.
Her awkwardness is charming, you would argue. It doesn’t get in the way of her making herself clear, but you can tell that she’s into the conversation and not just being nice.
She listens—actually listens. All of the questions she asks are thoughtful and relevant. She keeps saying all the right things, leading you to share even more. It’s easy to talk to her. Jesse and Dina could agree.
You decide to invite Ellie to come with you and the others to the cafe you work at. You have a shift after class, and they always keep you company during them.
“Oh, fuck yeah, I’ll show you my favorite drink.” Dina adds in, encouraging Ellie to join you. Jesse nods eagerly.
After a bit of not-so-real hesitation, Ellie relents. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come.”
When class ends, you all gather your stuff and head straight to your workplace. You still remember Ellie’s visit there; your first encounter. Neither of you plan to bring it up, though.
While you head into the back room to get your apron and hat, Ellie, Jesse, and Dina find their seats at the counter. Jesse and Dina chat about a few things while Ellie peacefully listens.
You walk through the door and head to the cash register first thing so your co-worker can clock out. She waves bye before leaving and you nod in response.
The shift is smooth sailing. Not many customers, so you spend most of your time in front of your friends, talking and giggling in between orders and tasks. You make Ellie try a new drink you invented. Thankfully, it’s matcha and not coffee. The girl gratefully accepts it.
“Oh, wow… That’s really good.” She says, licking a bit of foam that got on her upper lip.
“Why do you sound surprised?” You mutter jokingly, leaning closer over the counter.
Ellie’s face flushes, and she sets the drink down. Before she knows it, Dina swipes her drink.
The ravenette tilts her head. “D’you mind if I have a sip? Someone won’t give me another one for free, and I’m on my last twenty dollars.”
Ellie stares at her for a bit. Dina doesn’t share drinks until she really likes someone. Did that change, or does she just… really like her already? Before the prolonged eye contact gets weird, Ellie nods. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Hey, do any of you have Tylenol? My head’s fucking killing me…” You mutter, trying to gently massage your temples as a crease forms between your brows.
“Now that you mention it, me too.” Jesse sighs. Dina’s already digging for her bag, sure that she has some.
You fill two cups of water for you and Jesse and take the painkiller, hoping for the best.
“Dina, do you remember pregaming prom?” You ask, smiling fondly at the memory as the topic transitions into high school memories.
“Awh, of course I do,” she grins back. “Gave you your first shot that night.”
“Ugh, my mom made us stand for so long to get the photos right.”
“Oh yeah, and Dina almost cried when Jesse wouldn’t pose right,” Ellie chimes in with a quiet laugh.
Three pairs of eyes turn to face her. No words exchanged.
Fuck. Holy fuck.
“I bet. I bet Jesse couldn’t pose right.” She corrects, realizing that she might’ve just screwed the fuck up.
You offer a forced titter, trying to ignore whatever the hell that was. “Yeah, uh, she even gave him the silent treatment in the car.”
The conversation slowly gets back to normal, but you’re not fully into it anymore. You’re having a hard time concentrating with the growing migraine driving you nuts. Why isn’t the Tylenol working?
Jesse cracks a stupid joke, the kind that’s so stupid, it manages to make you react.
In the midst of laughing, your hand lands on Ellie’s shoulder since she’s closest to you. Out of nowhere, your head bangs with pain. It feels like someone struck you with a metal bat and left a screw in your skull. A quiet yelp escapes you as you pull your hand away from Ellie like it burns. Then, you hiss and turn around, holding your head like it can’t stay upright on its own anymore.
The others halt, watching with concerned, wide eyes. Ellie’s a little frozen, seeing how it only happened when you touched her. It’s probably nothing, but the suddenness spooked her a bit.
“Your head?” Dina asks, voice softening as you turn back around, eyes still closed. You nod slowly.
“I’m fine, just.. Damn.” You answer. “Pain just shot up my spine and into my head.”
“Maybe it’s time you clock out,” Jesse adds. You don’t resist, knowing it’d probably be dumb to go through the rest of your shift in this state.
Ellie offers to help you out, but you politely refuse. You call your co-worker to cover you and take your uniform off in the back room.
You go your separate ways, exchanging hugs and making promises to hang out as soon as possible.
As Ellie walks in the opposite direction on the same sidewalk as you, she wonders why you looked so distressed the entire time after your sudden head pain. Maybe it still hurt, but your countenance made it seem like something deeper was going on.
She tells herself she’s just reading into it and focuses on following the right route to her place.
On your way back to your dorm, you think about what you failed to tell the others when you got that headache spike. You don’t tell them about your vision—if that’s what you can call it—of Spider-Woman holding your waist, webshooters propelling the two of you in the sky. You don’t tell them that in the midst of the searing pain and your vision of practically flying, you felt safe. In fact, you felt euphoric. Addictive adrenaline coursed through your veins in that split second before leaving you as quickly as it came.
The first thing you do when you go home is turn your laptop on. You search for footage of Spider-Woman on any social media website you can think of. A plethora of clips show her around New York, no actual tasks. You gather that a large majority of these videos are during patrols or something of that nature.
Who is Spider-Woman? Why do you keep getting visions of her? Does she have anything to do with it?
You write your questions down and search next for video clips of the masked woman during fights. Phone recordings, paparazzi, leaked CCTV recordings… You try to see if there’s anything that could give away her identity, or at least where to find her.
This rabbit hole you’ve gotten yourself into takes over the rest of your day. You obsessively research everything you can think of, trying so hard to answer the questions you wrote down. You look into spells and witchcraft, magic and Dr. Strange, the Avengers, the universe. Anything that crosses your mind quickly makes its way onto a separate tab on your computer, eating away at the last of your sanity.
🕷 content warning ~ Spider-Man AU, angst, one sided yearning, Peter and MJ dynamic, self erasure, isolation and loneliness, slight mentions of past trauma, slow burn (probably), concepts related to the multiverse, violence/fight scenes, mentions of lost loved ones; cws may be added or removed as the story goes on.
🕷 SYNOPSIS ~ The world forgot her, but the multiverse didn’t. Fractures in reality bleed through glimpses of a life she once lived and memories that should no longer exist. As her former self begins to collide with the life she’s trying to build, Ellie must decide whether to stay hidden or risk everything in a gamble of finding you again—and the identity she gave up to save the world.
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CHAPTER INDEX
Prologue — "I would like a coffee" > 1.4k
Ellie finally furnishes her new dorm at ESU. She also can't help pondering over her recent (failed) attempt at telling you what she promised she would back when it still meant something.
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Chapter 1 - "Do I know you from somewhere?" > 4.3k
Ellie tries to rebuild her life and prove herself at Stark Industries while continuing as Spider-Woman, as you unknowingly move on without her. But when her interview brings her face-to-face with an old friend, everything she’s trying to leave behind threatens to resurface.
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Chapter 2 - "Maybe she had an emergency.." > 3.4k
Happy thinks a little too much, and Ellie finally meets her best friends again, along with you. It’s her first class, and she just so happens to be put in a group with you. What could go wrong?
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Chapter 3 - "Hey, kid." > 3.1k
Happy’s finally back from his leave. Ellie starts to socialize instead of running away like last time, but your own thoughts start to betray you.
I had a dream where I made a new friend group with people abroad and they actually liked me and I had a gorgeous lesbian love interest and I could drive on my own and we went on a late night walk then got drinks from a cafe and were about to go on a drive with no aim okay fuck my life why’d I wake up
Summary: Things have always been complicated between you Rockstar!Reader, and your Band Manager, Sevika. It's this constant push and pull of you fucking shit up and her being there to clean it all up. But it's gotten to the point that she's fed up and you're tired of it all. So, what's all there left to lose when all that's holding you together are the feelings you have for her?
WC: 3.7k
Warnings: Hurt no comfort, toxic relationship dynamics, profanity, drinking, substance abuse, drugs, addiction, some mentions of nudity, blood, implied death
Inspired by the song: Risk by Deftones
A/N: Hey...I'm kinda proud of this one. It's definitely heavy so please read with caution and consider the warnings!
It’s less of a lifestyle and more of a religion. Every chance you get, you’re falling to your knees, praying to the gods of drugs, sex, and rock & roll. You don’t want to change–you’re stuck in this never-ending cycle. The pills will always be filled, the bottles will never run dry, and the women will never stop coming. It’s hard not to cave and give in to every temptation. Especially when Sevika is there to pick you back and piece you back together every time you fall apart. The world knows you–your name and face are plastered on every magazine and platform imaginable. ‘The Princess of Destruction’ is what the media refers to you as. They're not wrong by any means, that’s for sure. Everywhere you go, a path of chaos is left as evidence. You’re an icon; a legend in the making. That’s why you’re still standing, still singing, and still fucking rocking.
Your latest album just released last week. And it’s caused your PR team to work to the bone, having to deal with your drunken bullshit persona in every scheduled interview that has to be heavily edited before airing. You don’t know what time it is. Hell, you don’t even know what day it is.
The linen sheets are wrapped around your legs, sticking to sweaty skin. Your head is pounding, thumping to a rhythm similar to that of the racing of your heart. You’re coming off of a high, the alcohol still seeping through your veins from the night before. You don’t remember much. Just coming back to the hotel room, would’ve been the penthouse suite if hotels hadn’t begun to catch on to your reckless behaviors, but nevertheless you had taken another nameless woman with you.
You open your eyes, blinking slowly, trying to make out the form of the stranger laying next to you. You curse under your breath as you slowly sit up, bringing as much blanket with you to cover your bare chest. You look at the woman again, trying to remember where you met her. There was an interview yesterday, you recall, and she was the makeup artist, right. She looks peaceful, almost content to be written off as just another groupie. You frown slightly as you continue to look at her, watching as her chest rises and falls gently. Sun beams shine through the blinds, warming your skin and highlighting the contours of the woman’s tan skin. She’s familiar in a way, reminds you of someone–reminds you of Sevika. Something sour begins to knot deep in your stomach. You rip the sheets off of your body before rushing to the bathroom. You grab the edge of the sink, falling to your knees in front of the toilet before leaning forward and hurling into the bowl.
It’s a scene not far from grotesque–you can’t remember the last time you ate so all that’s coming up is a mixture of whatever liquor you had the night before. You wipe your mouth with a nearby wash cloth, senses finally coming back to you. You turn your head to see the woman from the bed now leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. She’s fully clothed now, when did that happen? Your brows furrow as you take her in with your eyes.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?” you cough, throat burning from the acidic aftertaste of your vomit. The woman shifts her weight. She fidgets with her nails as she stands up straight and looks at you uncomfortably.
She gestures over her shoulder towards the room door, “Uh–” she swallows thickly, running a hand through her sex-matted hair. “Yeah, actually. I have an appointment in a few hours.”
Your eyes narrow, looking away from her as you feel another fit of sickness pulse through you. It feels different this time, it’s not a physical sickness but only a mental one. You don’t bother to look at her, so you stare holes into the wall behind the toilet.
“Cool,” you mutter as the ringing in your ears increases tenfold, “grab me a bottle, would you?”
The woman steps back slightly, a short scoff leaves her lips. It’s judgmental–you know this but it still doesn’t stop you from looking back at her to stare at her motionless figure. You frown in annoyance, “Any day now, babe.”
She shakes her head and curses you under her breath before leaving her place in the doorway and moving to grab you a half-empty bottle of whisky. She comes back into the bathroom and walks up to your kneeling form. You look up at her with blood-shot eyes and crooked grin on your lips. She meets you with a bitter expression as she leans down, shoving the bottle into your hands rather roughly before turning on her heels and storming out.
“Don’t bother calling!” She shouts at you as she nears the hotel door, stopping at the table in the hall to gather her things.
You roll your eyes, popping the top off the bottle before taking a shallow sip. They’re all like this, so eager to get in your pants but too impatient when they realize that’s all there really is. You’re an open book and they’re all too incompetent to actually give a fuck about the contents within the pages. You weren’t planning on calling, anyways. She didn’t fill that image you have of Sevika so what’s the point?
You hear the door handle jiggle, followed by a shriek. “Who the fuck are you?” you hear the woman say.
You can hear the shuffling of feet before a loud huff and then the door slamming shut. The footsteps are heavy and coming near. You move to rest your bare back on the porcelain bathtub, sitting on the floor in only your panties. You face the doorway, the light from the bedroom flooding into the dark of the bathroom. You take another swig from the bottle, letting the fiery liquid linger on your tongue before swallowing weakly. The room becomes darker, an outline of broad shoulders falls onto your exposed form.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” there’s nothing warm about the words–nothing comforting.
You don’t bother meeting her eyes, too anxious to even speak but still you do, “Hey, Vika.”
“Don’t fucking ‘Vika’ me, Y/N”
Sevika steps back, allowing the light to intrude on your space once again. You can’t help but feel small, feeling as if the whole world is caving in on you, you pull your knees to your chest in an attempt to hide from your own shame. The bottle feels heavy in your hand but you know it’s almost empty. But, the alcohol will always flow faster than your tears.
Sevika comes back, fully entering the bathroom before tossing you a hoodie. It lands, draping over your head, enveloping you in total darkness. You don’t move. You can’t. It’s as if your joints have cemented in place.
“Don’t be dumb, Y/N. Put it on.” Sevika huffs, dropping to her knees in front of you. She reaches out, grabbing the hoodie. You nuzzle your head further into your knees, ignoring the burning in your muscles. You flinch as two hands, both equally as chilling, place themselves on your forearms, urging you to relax.
Sevika sighs softly, “Talk to me.”
You shake your head but it doesn’t stop her. It never does. You allow her to pull the bottle from your grip, setting it down on the sink. She runs her prosthetic hand up your arm, the cold metal cooling your damp skin. “You can’t keep this up.”
You finally look at her, facing your fate. She doesn’t have to say anything–you can see it. You can see the disappointment that settles in the valleys of the wrinkles by her brows that only exist because of you. Her gaze hardens and you watch as her eyes focus in on the center of your face. You grimace, pulling yourself in tighter if even possible. You’re confused about what she’s looking at until you feel warmth settle on the top of your knee. You look down. Oh. It’s blood.
You reach up to brush your finger under your nostril, it comes back coated in the velvety liquid. Shit. Your eyes widen as you look back at Sevika.
She’s practically fuming. She always boasts about how well she can conceal her emotions but that’s just bullshit. She squeezes her eyes shut, inhaling sharply through her nose. You swear you can see steam coming from her ears.
“You told me you fucking quit it with the coke, Y/N.” Her grey eyes meet yours with a cold gaze. She’s right–you did tell her that. But you couldn’t help it. After each glass you drink you always see her at the bottom of it. So, you need to keep up with a different outlet, a different way to distract yourself from the need you have for her.
You tug your lip between your teeth, trying to ground yourself and stop yourself from melting into the tile below you. You try to speak but it comes out broken. Sevika watches you, almost in pity. She shakes her head, grabbing the edge of the sink to hoist herself up. She grabs a clean cloth from a hook on the wall and hands it to you. You place it under your nose, dabbing up the blood before holding it in place.
It’s silent, uncomfortably so. Sevika continues to stand, gripping the edge of the sink. You can practically see the sea of thoughts flooding the space between her ears as you observe her from the floor.
A few more silent minutes pass but your nose stops bleeding and you have finally put on the hoodie. “I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly, not even risking the hurt you’ll face from looking at her so you just find a speck of unwiped blood on your knee to hone in on.
“For what?” Sevika barks out. It’s not a question, not since she has the answer. “For fucking killing yourself with all this shit?” She grabs the whisky bottle with her flesh hand, waving it around for emphasis. She takes a beat, waiting for a response. You give her nothing. She shakes her head in disbelief.
“Do you not realize that there’s gonna be an end to all this?” She nudges you with her boot, “and I’m not talking about fucking rehab, Y/N-”
You finally look up at her, growing frustrated with her chastising. You begin to bite back but she cuts you off.
“No! You don’t get to say shit right now!” She laughs bitterly, “You don’t get to say shit because you need to fucking listen when I tell you that all of this is gonna end with you dead. You’re fucking killing yourself, Y/N”
Tears well up in your eyes, they’re hot and burning. You grab the toilet seat and push yourself off of the floor to meet her towering frame. You point a finger at her, “Fuck you!” you repeat the statement as tears stream down your cheeks. You’re exhausted, it’s all too much. You didn’t need this right now, not ever. You know what you’re doing to yourself, it was all harmless at first but now it’s just a way to cope.
She grabs your wrists, urging you to calm down. “Fucking chill out.” she mutters as you begin to thrash around in an attempt to escape her grip. Her hold is firm and grounding as she pulls you into her chest, metal hand falling steady on the small of your back. You’re still angry but your body has given up, it’s done responding to your brain’s commands.
“Let. Me. Go.” You spat out. You feel her flesh hand hold your shoulder, a vice grip to keep you from slithering away.
“No. Not until you take a fucking breath.” She responds, holding you still. You let out a huff before taking a deep breath. ”Relax your arms and let me in, Y/N.”
“There. Happy now?” You mock and she only groans in reaction.
“You’re fucking insufferable.” She releases you from her grasp and despite every nerve in your body wanting her to stay, you push her away as if to prove a point. You’re stuck in a state of confusion, in all honesty. You glance at her, gauging her emotions just from what’s written on her face. Though it’s hard to decipher, you know deep down there's sympathy.
Sevika brings her hands to her sides, curling her fingers into fists as she calculates her next move. After a beat, she says, “Go sit down.”
You blink at her, not moving for a moment. You take a second to gather your own thoughts and feelings–grasping at what’s most coherent in your head. But you know, that this may just be it. This may just be the moment you need to truly wrap your heart and pack it away where you might need it most.
You step around her, heading toward the bed. You slip onto it, pulling the blankets over your bare legs. You find a loose thread and decide that the only interesting thing in the world right now. You wrap it around your knuckles, letting the swell of your fingertip be the feeling that keeps you grounded in the moment.
Sevika follows behind you, walking softly as she reaches the bench sat before the edge of the bed. She sits with her back facing you. Seeing her like this has your stomach in knots. Maybe that loose thread has crawled its way deeper than just the surface of your skin.
You sigh softly, the noise bringing Sevika back to reality. Her shoulders tense as she clears her throat. She sounds different, you think.
“I hope you know–,” she stands, your eyes following as they meet her stare in the mirror across from you both. She still hasn’t turned around but she’s seeing all that she knows in the reflection–a girl who’s too far gone for her own good, the girl that Sevika will always rush to rescue no matter the case, and you’re beginning to see her too. It’s a harsh pill to swallow, something much more sinister and lethal than anything you’ve ever consumed.
“–that this is the last time, Y/N.” She averts her gaze, finally moving to face you. “I’m done.”
“W-what?” You choke on a breath as the words find a free corner in your brain to allow yourself to absorb them. “What do you mean?”
She closes her eyes, breathing through her nose as she forms her next words, carefully. But you’re quick on your feet. You push the covers from your legs and scramble towards her, kneeling before her on the bed. You feel as if your chest is caving in as if an anvil has been dropped on you from the high heavens.
“I just can’t watch you-” She sighs roughly, pinching the bridge of her nose as her eyes squeeze shut.
You sit back on your heels, tilting your head at her like a wounded pup, surrendering to defeat. You choke on a sob, a familiar warmth creeps up from deep below but you swallow down the notion quickly.
“I can’t just continue to watch risk yourself and you can’t just keep expecting me to come to your fucking beck and call.”
Sevika knows it's an endless cycle–she sees it for what it truly is–an addiction to whatever gets you the most high. And in this instance, it’s her. So, the only way to stop it is to cut you off from your supply. She keeps getting you higher and higher.
“So, when I say I’m out–” She glares at you, expression stone cold. “I’m fucking gone.”
Your shoulders shake as another sob breaks through you, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
Sevika stands stoic, her armor not faltering once. She knows it's far past the time of recovery so why stick around if it's only downhill from here? She steps back, inching towards the door of your hotel room. It takes everything in you not to reach out for her and grab at whatever you can find left of what she’s dangling in front of you. It’s a sick move Sevika’s playing and she knows it, and deep down you do too.
She turns on her heel, closing in on the distance to the door before turning her head over her shoulder. “Come to me when you’re done fucking risking your life in hopes I’ll be there to slap a band-aid on your ass.” She mutters before leaving, slamming the door behind her.
You stare at the closed door, focusing in on the peep hole. If you were to get up, and chase after her, would she still be at the door or would she be down the hall and at the elevator by now? You don’t bother chancing your luck, so you sink further into your own darkness. Your eyes trail over to the mini fridge tucked under the small desk in the corner of the room. You slink onto the floor, crawling towards the appliance on your hands and knees. The rough carpet bites into your skin as it catches on the fibers, irritating your skin and leaving a raw sting. It hurts just enough to keep reminding you that you’re here and this is real–and Sevika’s gone.
You pull open the fridge, the cool air hitting your face in a rush. You look over your choices of drinks. Time to pick your poison. But of course–you’re not picky.
You pluck each small bottle from the elevated shelf on the fridge door, shutting it after you’ve completed your harvest. You let your spine practically deflate as it hits the floor. You stare up at the ceiling as your fingers clumsily work to unscrew the cap of the little bottle in your hand.
It hurts–your head, your skin, your blood, your bones, your heart–it all just feels wrong and out of place. You have it all, don’t you? The looks, the fame, the money. You have everything except her. She’s the one you do all of this for, yet she never notices. You want to try for her. Quit this habit and let your heart heal but the highs are getting you further.
The plastic makes hollow sounds as they pile up next to your head. A familiar, warm and fuzzy feeling takes over your limbs. Your tongue tingles as you gulp down the last mini bottle. You groan as you roll onto your side. You feel the ocean inside of you ebb and flow with each movement. But you’re craving the sand now, something thin and powdery to pass through your senses. You push yourself up and stand on your feet. You quickly reach out the desk to catch yourself as your legs buckle under you.
The room is spinning as you stumble towards the nightstand. You crumble back onto the floor in front of it. You reach up to find your phone, pulling it towards you to glance at the screen briefly. Still nothing from Sevika. Fuck. Why should you even bother? She made her choice and now you’re making yours. You toss the device somewhere behind you before reaching back up to grab a small tin. You pop open the latch before dumping the contents onto the bed next to you. You turn your body and rest your elbows on the mattress.
You lay out the compact tin, leaving the reflective surface facing upward. You feel around for the small vial of your next indulgence. It feels small in your hand but it’s worth its weight in gold. You sniffle, blinking away tears as you unscrew the top. You tilt the vial over the small mirror, tapping the rim to let the powder move swiftly. You stare at the small mound for a moment. Should you really be doing this? Definitely not. Sevika always hated that you got involved in this scene. But honestly…fuck her. She doesn’t get to say shit about you now.
You miss her. You can’t deny that. But with the way your body is on auto pilot as it moves to bring the substance into your body tells a story of a need that can only compare to that need you have for her. It’s a weird situation to be in. It’s weird because Sevika will always yell at you for your destructive habits but it’s all you know how to do. You risk your life for her. You take in all that you can in hopes that once it all hits and you get let into the world that exists only in your high, you’ll see her. She’ll always be waiting for you in that world. So you gladly risk your life that you have in this world.
That floaty feeling back again as you rest your head against the mattress. Your eyes feel dry which is weird because your cheeks become wet with tears. You can’t hear the buzz of the AC anymore. The whole room has turned into a dull painting that’s left to rot in the attic, the colors faded and fuzzy. You’re tired again, limbs heavy as cement as they keep you planted next to the bed. Your body begins to hurt and you begin to feel confused. Why can’t you move? Why is everything so strange? The room is continuing to lose color and the stale smell is gone. What is happening? You try to blink but you can’t. You still see it all, not able to look away.
Has your body finally had enough? Has it finally waved its white flag? Maybe that’s what you’re seeing. The white flag waving in your face as you watch the colors finally fade away. You let out a cough and your chest aches for a moment before it settles into something abnormal. Your own body feels foreign. Actually, it feels fine. The pain is gone. It’s finally kicked in. It’s hitting all at once. Fuck. You’ve never been this far gone. But as you always do, you close your eyes and she’s there.
Her silhouette stands behind your eyelids as you let out a content sigh. Finally, you’re reunited with her again. She didn’t leave you. She’s not truly gone.
𝜗ৎ summary : bridal shower planning and cupcake ordering both go awry with a phone number mix-up.
𝜗ৎ warnings : smau! texting!fic. time skip -> a few months later!! fluff. this is the last and final part! thank you to those that have supported my first smau journey... it was fun to do so if anyone has any smau requests in the future... let me know <3
𓄧 synopsis ~ You died where Joel should’ve. Against cold, hard wood with a metal golf club to your head. You claimed to be the reason why Ellie left the hospital, why Abby’s father died. Ellie loves you more than anything. You were the only thing keeping her from complete surrender. For you, she should cope and heal. For herself? She doesn’t really know. After all, you’re no longer here to guide her.
𓄧 word count ~ 1.4k
𓄧 content warning ~ angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death (reader), grief and loss, survivor’s guilt, graphic depictions of violence, implied suicide, mental health struggles, strained relationships (Joel and Ellie), character study ish, self blame, depression, trauma and PTSD, no happy ending, self destructive behavior, mentions of torture, emotional distress, not proofread
𓄧 note ~ I apologize in advance. i made @charlie-chick cry bc of this, so pleaseee mind the content warnings!!
𓄧 likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!
Plop, plop, plop.
Your blood dripped down the metal club, held tight between meaty, pale hands. The last thing you heard were the distant screams of your lover, muffled and dissonant as the ringing in your head veiled the voice.
Everything went black. Silent. Void.
You wondered where Ellie was. You wondered if she was okay. How many people were there? You couldn’t tell if you saw Tommy waking up afterwards. You hoped he wasn’t hurt. Maybe he would save you all.
Your leg. It was throbbing under the tourniquet. You couldn’t feel it anymore. Did it already heal? Did someone amputate it?
Ohhhh, you mused within the black hole.
That’s right. You were dead. Deceased. Gone. Another soul lost to the terrors of the apocalypse.
Abby must’ve bashed your head in one too many times.
To be fair, you knew it’d happen. You chose to save Joel by sacrificing yourself. Sure, Joel had a lot of blood on his hands, but in reality, he was more valuable to Jackson than you ever would be. You were less of a loss than he was.
Ellie would disagree. Ever since she made it to Jackson, you’ve been by her side. She never thought a person could matter so much to her.
She also learned time and time again that death was to be expected. It didn’t take long for her to comprehend just how easy it was for her to lose everyone she loved. Still, she never thought it would happen to you. Sweet, patient you.
Of course, that led to your death being the most tragic. You were quiet and kind and resilient. You didn’t do anything for the sake of praise or popularity. From the bottom of your heart, you always wanted to help, to support, to contribute. You didn’t ask for much in return.
To Ellie, you listened. And for you, she spoke. She piqued your interest, and she feared your curiosity. After saving her countless times, during most, you were unaware, she trusted you. Fully and autonomously. Her deepest secrets poured out like casual daily gossip, like keeping secrets didn’t matter when it came to you.
You were gone so quickly. Ellie blinked, and suddenly, your eyes lost the light in them. She writhed and begged, pleas tearing out of her throat, leaving a taste of iron in their wake. She fought. She tried to wriggle out of their grasp and closer to your body until her vision blurred at the edges and eventually went black, much like yours but less permanent.
Ellie and Joel’s quarrel had been going on endlessly. Ever since she snuck into the hospital and found the files, her perception of him shattered into millions of fragments. Joel tried everything to salvage what they had, but to no avail.
He learned to stop trying and give Ellie space. That’s what all teenagers want lately—to be left alone. Especially after finding out they had their purpose taken away from them behind their back. Of course Joel knew why Ellie resented him.
Still, they were starting to get better.
They talked after the dance. Ellie even went so far as to say she was willing to try to forgive him. There was still hope. Real hope, this time.
Your death ruined all of it. All of Joel’s hard work to fix things, all of Ellie’s healing. You died, and both of their worlds completely unraveled.
Ellie’s resentment turned into sheer, unmitigated loathing. She despised him even more than your killer. Joel was the one who burned the cure to the ground. Joel was the one who stripped her of her purpose. Joel was the one who was supposed to die, and you took the fall. The ruthless, brutal fall that killed you and saved him.
The girl had to be restrained from him. That first week after your burial, she wasn’t allowed in the same room as her old man. The first time she was alone with him, she punched him in the face. He even let her.
After that short period, she tried running away from Jackson. Every corner she turned took her to a place that reminded her too much of her late lover. The bench you sat on at night, away from community events and parties, the little opening in the walls you used to sneak out through to go sledding, the abandoned library you read books and comics in together.
Week five was when Ellie lost her ability to feel. Her body learned that pretending it never happened was easier than honoring your memory. She forgot how your eyes looked—the gaze you saved only for her during the quiet moments between patrol shifts, or when you debriefed together, alone in her garage after long days.
Everyone kept trying to help. Maria talked to Ellie, Dina baked her a cake, Jesse offered to spar with her. Her entire circle once attempted an intervention at her place. Any attempt they made at helping her just pushed her away further.
One faithful night, she finally gave Joel a chance. Finally, she let him talk. She even spoke up herself.
“I didn’t know she even went up the mountain… She, Tommy, and I… We split up. I lost ‘em.” He muttered. Survivor’s guilt always crept up on him, ever since Sarah passed on. After what happened in that mansion, though, he stopped even trying to give himself grace.
Ellie was only able to listen at first. Her throat felt too tight to share what was on her mind. He cleared this throat and shifted in his seat to continue.
“If I had the choice, I would’ve been long gone by now.” He croaked out. “I wish it wasn’t her. So badly.”
“She’s still the one who died.” Ellie murmured, eyes reddening at the memory. The sight of your blood splattering against the hardwood floor, the feeling of being held down, unable to do anything under the hands of the sinister accomplices.
She was surrounded by devils that night. True, honest devils. She never thought such cruelty could exist, not even in this world. To be held down in front of your wrongly accused lover as she’s tortured to death? That was a whole different territory of depraved.
“I know.” The man answered, a heavy sigh coming out as he looked away for a brief moment. “I’m sorry. To her, as well.”
“You should be.” Ellie scoffed before thinking to ease up on him. She used her thumb and index fingers to wipe the corners of her eyes.
“I’m tired, Ellie.” Joel confessed. For the first time ever, Joel admitted to feeling shitty. “I miss her too. I wish it didn’t happen the way it did, but what else can we do about it?”
A beat passed before he spoke again. “I miss you too. Christ, you… you won’t talk to me anymore. You just stopped attacking me for breathing the same air as you.”
As much as Ellie wished to go back to how things were, all she saw whenever her eyes locked with Joel was your dead body, limp and wet with red liquid. She could no longer picture Joel without seeing you as well, in the one and only state she prayed she’d never have to see you in.
Ellie didn’t think when she stood up off her chair, the abrupt movement causing the wood to creak beneath her. She gave Joel one last look, one that lingered and carried the aching notion that she lacked the strength to miss him too. In any other circumstance, they might’ve rekindled once again, just like after all the other ups and downs in their time together. This… this felt irreparable. Both of them felt it.
Without turning back, and without so much as giving him “closure,” Ellie left. Where to? Not even she knew. Was she going to leave Jackson? Would she ever return? Nothing was clear, but Ellie packed her bag and slipped away, her stealth aiding her in slipping past the guards unnoticed.
It didn’t take long for inches to turn into miles. Ellie walked nonstop. She walked until her muscles ached and her surroundings grew unrecognizable. Up until the very last moment, she was fully aware. Nothing would make this easier. Nothing would fix her or stop reminding her of you.
The auburnette’s nearing death was inevitable. Months passed, and she found a sea shore. She took her backpack off, sighed deeply, and stepped into the tide. She couldn’t care less about wetting her jeans. She knew she wasn’t walking away anytime soon. Not with you, plaguing her mind, body, and soul.
dividers by @andromeda-graphics ~ photos from pinterest
𝒪𝓃ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓁ℴℴ𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒻ℴ𝓇𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓇𝓃༯ Going to the Orlando metro area with my man and my best friend.
𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝒾ℊℊℯ𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂༯ Fulfillment, meaning, and peace. Also to become an actress but also a figure for other black women and guide us till I can't anymore.
𝒮ℴ𝓃ℊ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓅ℯ𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎 ℴ𝓃 𝓇ℯ𝓅ℯ𝒶𝓉༯ I literally can't choose but artist that I'm rarely gonna skip are: Miguel, Beyoncé, Megan Thee Stallion, Iyla, & Arctic Moneys.
OMGGGG YAYYY i can YAP — ty for thinking of me 🥹!
ೀ hair color: copper (ginger)
ೀ favorite color: lavender purple .ᐟ
ೀ favorite drink(s): matcha, tea & GINGER ALE .ᐟ
ೀ one thing you love about yourself: im conceited—everything, lol jk : my willingness to help evb .ᐟ
ೀ if you can be an animal, what would you be?: a cat
ೀ dream place to visit: china or rome .ᐟ
ೀ one thing you’re looking forward to: celebrating my fren’s august birthdays .ᐟ
ೀ my biggest dream: becoming a neurologist & publishing research on tbi & colon cancer .ᐟ
ೀ songs on repeat: okayy by latto, kiss n tell by aespa, church by mariah the scientist & f*ck swag by nettspend .ᐟ
npt: @bloomflix @satorusdreamer @kireampie @yoonsucks @swvness @toorufairy @tokkushin @chequiiita @fadingalmondhandszine @antholoji @yuucide @daflex @evfers @chosayi @valberryboos @sugurusbeloved +++ anyone who would like to join i didn’t tag evb lol!!
ty for tagging me riri!! i'll answer on my personal blog 🙂↕️
𑣲𝄞 hair color : black
𑣲𝄞 favorite color : alice blue & pink
𑣲𝄞 favorite drink(s) : horchata & dr pepper
𑣲𝄞 one thing you love about yourself : hmmmm my fashion sense (its not consistent at all and thats why i love it)
𑣲𝄞 if you can be an animal, what would you be? : a possum :D
𑣲𝄞 dream place to visit : india and ireland
𑣲𝄞 one thing you're looking forward to : to finally be rid of church boy forever :D
𑣲𝄞 my biggest dream : to finish and graduate college. and become a counselor 🥹
𑣲𝄞 songs on repeat : free by 6lack, radar by lil hero, 3:16am by jhené aiko, champagne coast by blood orange, when the night calls by blood cultures & fantasy by dye (i never get tired of this song)
np tags but i lowk wanna get to know some of yall a little better : @lorelays @hysterotic @porcalinecunt @qrtem @thelibrarianangsti @chaoslibra @koretholics @lunebrew @wildflowersandbarley333 @kunaiiikittennn @bloomflix @spacedust-alley @feuillmorte @nyajiro
hair colour: dark brown (my roots are black tho they're growing out lol)
favourite colour: pink, blue, dark brown, white
favourite drinks: any kind of smoothie, apple juice, lychee tea
one thing you love about yourself: naturally have a lot of empathy?
if you can be an animal, what would you be?: a humpback whale (bc i like them but also i kinda wanna mess with orcas)
dream place to visit: wherever whales are, i wanna see a whale in this lifetime
one thing you're looking forward to: traveling with my friendss
my biggest dream: creating a safe space for queer people and being happy with my friends and and uh seeing a humpback whale irl
songs on repeat: kiss n tell - aespa, when it rains - paramore, crash out - tinashe, switchblade - beabadoobee, deep love - split end, さよならロストジェネレイション - asian kung-fu generation, anyway - ephraim, 明弦音 - MyGO!!!!!
no pressure tags! @pushingpesticides @cerezasefimeras
1. Hair Color: Dark brown
2. Favorite Color: Sage green
3. Favorite Drink: Pomegranate lemonade
4. Something I Love About Myself: I’m extremely outspoken about my politics and refuse to shut up
4. What Animal Would I Be?: Red panda
5. Dream Visit: Sri Lanka, birthplace of Theravada Buddhism
6. Looking Forward To: COLLEGE!
7. Biggest Dream: Living to see the fall of the powers that be
8. Songs On Repeat: Notos by The Oh Hellos
@l0velyl4vender, @shypervydolly, @sweatyfuntrash, @licoriceisback, open tags
౨ৎ˚ hair color: still black from when i combed out my locs
౨ৎ˚ favorite color: plum
౨ৎ˚ favorite drink: coca cola!
౨ৎ˚ one thing you love about yourself: my face :)
౨ৎ˚ if you could be any animal what would you be?: a jag
౨ৎ˚ dream place to visit: italy
౨ৎ˚ what's one thing you're looking forward to right now?: this fall semester
౨ৎ˚ your biggest dream: being a rich woman, traveling the world, no kids
౨ৎ˚ song that's permanently on repeat: crush by solange, damned by miguel, be like a woman by chris rainbow, i belong to you by rome. i can’t help it by michael, IDK IDK I CANT PICK ONE 😫
> hair color: black with dark blue/grey faded highlights
> favorite drink: any redbull, coffee, and matcha (I just love caffeine)
> one thing you love about yourself: my patience🙏
> if you could be any animal, what would you be?: a grey cat, a spider, or maybe an arctic fox
> a dream place to visit: italyyyy
> what’s one thing you’re looking forward to right now?: spiderman brand new day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> your biggest dream: somehow becoming involved in a really important space mission
> songs that’s permanently on repeat: Lover, You Should’ve Come Over - Jeff Buckley, Fell in Love With a Girl - The White Stripes, Catapult - Arctic Monkeys, She - Harry Styles, Jigsaw Falling Into Place - Radiohead, and more
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
kianamaiart
blakekathryn
ellievsbear
germansingergirl
