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lovelettersfromluna · 5 months

Text

Bloom

Summary: “Uh-oh, I’m falling in love”

an: it’s time to say goodbye to these two, I hope you’ve enjoyed them as much as I did. Thanks for reading 🥹

Warnings: SMUT!! MDNI! 18+, mentions hospitals, reader is an emotional wreck at one point, Ellie flirts with another girl, lots of angst in this one, scissoring, petnames, sex on the beach, love making, lmk if I missed anything!

You can read part 1 here, and part 2 here!

Taglist: @macaroni676 @aouiaa @skylerwhitwyo @callmewhenyoukan

They always say that no matter what, you’ll never truly be ready for your wedding day.

Everyone you’ve spoken to, always says the same thing. They tell you you can never really prepare for it, no matter what you do, the feelings that you’re going to feel are going to be like no other, you’ll feel things that you weren’t sure even existed before your wedding day, but despite everything, you are going to be the happiest girl on the entire planet.

So…why did you feel so fucking bad on the morning of it all?

There was a sinking feeling that followed you the entire week leading up to your wedding day, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake it. It loomed over you, and it made everything so fucking dark, and dreary, and it made you feel like there was something you were missing, the terrible feeling of forgetting something vital.

As you gave it more thought, trying to pinpoint when and where this feeling began, an attempt at trying to find the source of it all and get rid of it, you realized what it was that was making you feel this way.

It was Ellie.

It was the lack of her by your side through one of the biggest moments in your life. From the moment your fiancé proposed to you, you envisioned Ellie right there with you, through every step of the way, cheering you on.

But after the last phone call you had with her, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

The words that Ellie said to you, it was like you were speaking to a different person. It was as if someone had replaced your best friend, instead giving you a girl who treated you as a stranger, shouting at you, pushing you away.

It burned you from the inside out.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth, a burning sensation in your throat, and tear stained cheeks. Your fiancé tried to help, she held you the night after you got off the phone with Ellie, assuring you that it wasn’t you, that it was something she’s going through.

The woman that was marrying you held you as you cried over someone else.

And maybe that should’ve been a sign, a clue to your oblivious little mind that you should’ve second guessed the whole thing, taken a step back to look at the bigger picture.

But you didn’t.

You endured the pain, and pushed down the ugly feeling that settled at the pit of your stomach on the days leading up to your wedding, chalking it up the be the nerves that came with it all.

Because you can never truly prepare for your wedding day, right?

You didn’t even realize you were crying as you were sat in the chair in front of the vanity, a soft gasp falling from the lips of the makeup artist as she quickly reached over to the table and grabbed a tissue, bringing it to your cheek.

You frowned softly as your eyes focused on yourself in the mirror, watching as she gently dabbed away the tears on your face.

“Fuck…I’m so sorry…” you quickly apologized, gently taking the tissue from her and dabbing the tears away.

She giggled softly, shaking her head as she gave you a fond smile. “Oh please don’t apologize, I get it” she hummed out softly before she brushed a strand out of your hair and went back to doing your makeup.

“Wedding day jitters always creep up on you…I was a mess the entire morning of mine” she giggled softly before she gave you a reassuring nod.

She was simply trying to help, assuring you that whatever you were feeling was completely normal, something that came with the motives of being a bride.

But if she was trying to help, why did it only make you feel worse?

Because deep down, you knew this was different, and you knew that what you were feeling had little to do with the fact that you were getting married today.

It was like you were numb to it all, watching as everyone around you primped and tucked at you, making sure your hair was pinned in place, your dress was adjusted properly, your makeup was perfect, but it was like you weren’t even there, like everyone around you was simply dressing up a mannequin instead of a girl.

When it was finally time to step in front of the mirror to take a look at yourself, you couldn’t even recognize the person that stared back at you. The girl in the mirror looked beautiful, the perfect dress, the perfect hair and makeup, decked out in every brides dream.

But the eyes that stared back at you, they were hollow, they were vacant of something that used to twinkle in photos and videos, a spark of life that was once there, now almost completely gone.

The person in the mirror, wasn’t you anymore.

You inhaled deeply, cocking your head to the side a bit as you eyed yourself, the room now only filled with you, your bridesmaid giving you a moment alone while they got dressed before it was time for the ceremony. You tried so hard to feel something, anything other than what was filling your heart currently, which was the ugly, bitter feeling that had settled in months ago.

You didn’t even hear the knock at the door, and you probably wouldn’t have turned around at all if you didn’t hear the gentle jiggle of the doorknob paired with the creaking of the door. It made you turn around, only to see a familiar face peeking in.

“Can I um…is it alright if I come in?” Joel grumbled out softly, his hand covering his eyes as he stayed a small ways away from the door.

You gasped softly, grabbing two fistfuls of your dress and hiking it up a bit as you rushed towards the door. You tugged the man’s arm gently, pulling him into the room before you wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your face to his chest, and inhaling deeply.

“You came…” you sighed softly against him, cuddling further into the man.

Joel chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close, one of his hands coming up and gently cradling your head, the man clearly afraid to ruin your perfectly styled hair.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kid…you know that” he hummed out before he pulled you away gently, either of his hands gripping your arms gently.

“Come on then…lemme get a good look at ya” His eyes twinkled as he smiled down at you, the crinkled up at the edges as he gave you a smile, a sense of pride radiating off of him and washing over you, just from the way he looked at you.

And for some reason, it made your chin wobble, and you felt your throat burn as he stared down at you, because it actually makes you feel something. Joel can’t be around you without reminding you of Ellie, the two so similar, so reminiscent of each other.

It makes you wish that Ellie was the one with you instead.

His eyes widen a bit as he watches your eyes well up with tears, and he gives you a gentle shake, paired with a reassuring smile.

“You’ll ruin that pretty makeup if you start cryin’ on me kid…can’t walk down the aisle like that” he smiled down at you.

You giggled softly at his words before you nodded, inhaling deeply as you tried to suck it up and fight back the tears, no matter how much his words twisted the knife that was already jabbed into your chest.

“Sorry…I just…didn’t expect you to be here” you breathed out softly before you began tugging him over to a small couch near a window in your room.

You let out a soft sigh as you looked out the big bay windows. It was almost like a sick joke, because you couldn’t have picked a more perfect day to get married. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, birds chirping, all of it looking too similarly to something out of a fucking fairytale.

Yet you were just so…unhappy.

“Is it stupid for me to ask if she came with you?” You mumbled softly, already knowing the answer to the question.

Deep down, you could only hope you were wrong. You hoped she was down there, sitting with all of your guests, an empty spot next to her for Joel. It would’ve been the perfect surprise, seeing here there, waiting for you, happy for you.

Joel let out a soft sigh as he eyed you for a moment before he hunched over a bit, resting his elbows on his thighs.

He saw it in your eyes the second he caught sight of you, just how much the lack of his daughter’s presence affected you, and how much your marriage affected her. It was almost stupid how oblivious you two were to it all, to the clear connection you had, opting to suffer in silence when all that would solve this is simply sitting down with one another and talking it over.

But he never wanted to pry on you and Ellie, he always banked on you two working it out eventually and realizing just how perfect you were for each other.

He lost that how when he had to hold his crying daughter after she received her wedding invitation from you.

“Ellie is….shes really not doing well right now…” he sighed out softly, the man trying his best to dance around what was truly going on with his daughter.

She begged him to never tell you about her condition.

You let out a gentle hum as you nodded, eyes still staring out of the window.

“She’s sick…she told me” you responded.

Joel raised his eyebrows at your words, confusion written over his face as he registered your response.

“Ellie…told you about what’s going on with her right now?” He questioned wearily.

If you knew, how on earth were you so nonchalant about the whole thing?

You let out a gentle as you nodded, finally turning your attention back to Joel.

“She told me she’s got a cold…I’m not sure how a regular cold is supposed to last though” you mumbled out, a bitter, sad edge to your words as they fell from your lips.

Joel let out another sigh before he brought his hand up to his face, rubbing his eyes. He knew he was going to regret what he was about to do, and although he promised Ellie he wouldn’t say anything, he couldn’t do this anymore.

He refused to sit back and watch you destroy each other.

“I…I gotta be honest with you, kid…there’s more to it than she’s lettin’ on..” he sighed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him, suddenly eager for the man to continue speaking, you stayed quiet as you let him continue.

“She…she’s real sick….shes got some strange condition that…it….” Joel wasn’t sure how to say it, how to explain to you that you were the cause of his daughter being so ill, being so unhappy. How were you even supposed to explain that to someone? Telling them that the person closest to them has fallen ill because you don’t love them back?

You reached over to Joel, bending over a bit and grabbing his large, calloused hands in yours, forcing him to look at you.

Your eyes were desperate, shining with a sense of eagerness that Joel rarely saw in people.

“Joel…please” your voice was above a whisper, anticipating his words even more than you were your fucking wedding downstairs.

Joel frowned deeply as he watched you, wide eyes, desperate to know where Ellie was.

He couldn’t hide it from you anymore.

He swallowed thickly before he let out a sigh.

“She’s sick because you don’t love her…that’s why she’s been away, and it’s why she’s not here” he admitted, his words heavy with a sense of sadness that made your heart break.

And it’s like everything clicks all at once, and you hate yourself for being so fucking stupid, being so blind. Your eyes are welling up with tears, and you feel your throat closing up as you stare into Joel’s eyes, feeling as if the world had stopped, and the only thing that mattered in that very moment was getting to Ellie.

“Where is she” you deadpan, voice quivering as shiny tears threaten to spill out onto your cheeks.

“Listen…it won’t change anything. She’s already made up her mind about it the whole thing, just thought you deserved to know before she-“ you’re quit to cut him off, griping the man’s hands tighter, eyebrows furrowing as you practically beg him once more.

“Joel…where is she” From the way you’re looking at him, he knows you aren’t one to mess with. You aren’t going to drop it, not after what he’s told you.

He lets out a sigh of defeat, blinking his eyes a few times before he speaks.

“Shes about to go into surgery..they’re gonna try and fix her up” he mumbled out softly.

And you don’t even need to think twice, because you’re letting go of his hands, grabbing your phone, and making your way to the door of your dressing room.

Joel stands up when he sees you, realizing he’s made a mistake. You hear him calling out for you, trying to grab your arm.

“C’mon kid, where are you goin’. It’s your wedding day” he tried, his hand circled around your wrist as he tried pulling you back, bringing you back to earth from what you were feeling.

When you turn around, your eyes are twinkling with tears, and you stare at him in disbelief.

“My best friend is going into surgery because of me. I’m getting the fuck out of here” you breath out before you tug you arm from his grasp, and leave the room.

It’s almost like life begins to move in slow motion.

You don’t hear anything. The calls of your friends and family as your thinning down the halls of the wedding venue, your dress in hand as you focus on getting out as soon as fucking possible.

You don’t even hear the calls of your fiancé when you’re stepping out of the building.

Because all you can think about, is Ellie.

Your feet are carrying you out onto the road, immediately flagging down the first taxi cab you see and getting in. There are so many people running out behind you, standing outside of the venue and shouting at you, trying to figure out what’s happened, what they can do to help.

And you ignore every single one of them, and simply tell the driver to take you to the hospital as quickly as he can.

Running into the hospital is just the same. You don’t notice the strange stares from the people in the waiting room, or from the woman at the desk, you don’t even hear the little girl gasping when she sees you, urging her mother to look at the princess running through the hospital as she points at you.

You’re gasping for air when you reach the desk, palms pressing against the cool table as you stare down at the wide eyed woman.

“Ellie Williams. I need to find Ellie Williams” you breathe out.

The woman blinks a few times, staring up at you in disbelief before she quickly flips through some pages in the binder in front of her.

“I..um….may I ask your relation to the patient?” She stutters out, her eyes quickly shifting from the paper up to you.

“I’m her girlfriend” you blurt out without a second thought

The woman nods, looked back down at her paper before she looks towards her screen, clicking on her mouse before typing something in.

“She’s in room 404 but she-“ you mumble a quick thank you to the woman before you quickly tug your dress into your hands, rushing down the hallway as you ignore her calls for you.

Your eyes frantically shift from both walls as you search for the room number that’s front and center in your mind, running down hallways as you eagerly try to get to the room that Ellie’s in.

When you finally reach the hallway her room is in, you see a doctor walking out of the room you assume is hers, and before you can rush into Ellie’s room, he’s quickly stopping you.

“Woah woah…slow down there ma’am…where are you headed?” He asked gently, trying his best to calm you down. You could barely listen to him, or even register the words that he was saying to you, you just knew that you had to get to Ellie.

"My best friend...I need to see my best friend" You managed to get out between shallow breaths, your eyes shifting rapidly between him and the door behind him, yet every attempt you made at trying to get around the doctor to get to the door that Ellie was behind, he stopped.

Once the doctor finally took in your appearance, the big white wedding dress that you wore, tiny strands of hair falling from your hair, eyes wide and chest heaving..

He knew who you were immediately.

He gripped your shoulders, stopping you from getting around him, and forcing you to look up at him.

"She's fine...but before you go in there, you need to know a few things" He sighed out, already knowing that he would have to break the news to you.

The tone of his voice made you slow down, and it forced you to stare up at the stranger in front of you, because you knew deep down, he probably had all of the information that you could have possibly needed about your friend.

He explained your worst nightmare. He told you that Ellies surgery went well, and she was currently recovering. He and a team of other doctors has worked on her that morning...

She had scheduled her surgery for the day of your wedding.

The look on your face made the doctor sigh, because he had seen this far too many times. It was a case of love hitting someone too late, and in your case, you were the one that was late.

You were too fucking late.

"I need to warn you that...your friend won't be the same after she wakes up, not to you at least..it'll be like she barely even remembers you" He explained almost wearily, the man feeling the magnitude of your feelings, and the new lack of your friends.

But although you were late, you still had to be there for her.

You inhaled deeply, giving the doctor a silent nod before you grabbed your dress into your hands, lifted it up off the ground, and made your way to Ellie's door.

She looked like a fucking angel laying there, and it made you realize just how long it had been since you had seen her in person.

The sun was shining down on her face through her window, her lips slightly parted as tiny breaths escaped, her chest rising and falling slowly, it made you want to do nothing but crawl into bed with her and hold her, apologize for all the wasted time you had with her, and everything you wished you would have done right when you had the chance.

You moved to sit on the edge of her bed, your eyes already welling up with tears as you took her hand in yours. Your fingers traced over her tattoo gently, and for a split second, you felt her hand twitch, slightly holding yours back.

"Im so sorry, El..." you whispered out softly, tears blurring your vision, and falling down against the white bed sheets of the hospital bed.

"You didn't....you didn't deserve any of this....had I just...been there for you...and...and..." you hiccuped, your shoulders shaking as you cried to the unconscious girl, bringing her hand to your lips and pressing the softest kiss to it.

You looked up at her, watching as she slept so peacefully, unaware of the complete break down you were having a few inches away from her.

"You're gonna find someone who loves you so much...you deserve it more than anything..." You quietly promised her, pressing another soft kiss to her hand before you gently set it back onto her bed.

As you got up to leave, you looked down at your dress, a gentle scoff leaving your lips. You looked so fucking ridiculous, crying over your best friend who you would probably never see again, as a runaway fucking bride.

You felt pathetic.

You were a few feet away from the door, and you heard Ellie grumble softly in her sleep, the sound making your heart beat a bit faster, the sound of her voice making your insides flutter, just like she was always able to do.

"Maybe in another lifetime, it'll be our turn.." You whispered softly, giving a sad smile as tears continued streaming down your face.

You put your hand on the doorknob of her room, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you left her room, trying to control the violent, burning tears that wanted so badly to escape, to come out in screams and wails from your mouth.

If only you had known, that Ellie was mumbling your name in her sleep.

An entire year.

You don’t see Ellie…for an entire year.

After you left the hospital on the day you were supposed to get married, Joel called you. He told you everything you knew was true, but didn’t want to hear. He told you that your fiance was good for you, that you shouldn’t hold the guilt of what happened to Ellie because you didn’t know…

He also told you that it was best if you stayed away from Ellie.

The doctors advised it, something about her road to recovery. In that, meant that you had to stay away completely to ensure that the surgery had worked.

And god, was it the hardest thing you’d ever fucking done…

It’s ironic, but it only took you a day to realize just how in love you were with Ellie.

You went home and immediately packed your things, and in that, you found so many of Ellie’s things.

Flashes of memories between the two of you scattered before you, bringing it all back like a movie in your mind….

You found the bracelet she gave to you in high school, you don’t remember when you stopped wearing it. You found her hoodie that you wore so often, so she ended up just giving it to you, it was hard to remember when it went from being your favorite article of clothing to being stuffed at the bottom of your dresser. You found countless photos of the two of you, one of Ellie sitting between your legs on the floor as you tugged her hair back into a ponytail, laughing at something someone else was saying, another of you two at the beach, Ellie chasing you with a dead jellyfish she found washed up on the shore, a look of pure panic on your face, hers bright with laughter, and then there was your favorite…

A photo of you and Ellie on her couch, your face barely visible as you slept against her chest, her arm draped protectively around you as you both slept.

You cried until you couldn’t breathe that night.

It was hard, looking back at all of the memories you’d made with Ellie, hating yourself for never realizing just how big the Ellie shaped space in your heart was. It was like you were so busy chasing a fantasy, worried that you wouldn’t get the fairy tale ending that you’d dreamt about since you were a child…

You couldn’t see that the person for you was right by your side the entire time.

So? You left.

You went against every urge in your body that yearned for Ellie, yearned to be by her side in all of this, even if she didn’t see you the same way she used to, you cared about her, and you wanted nothing more than to be with her.

But you left, because you knew you’d caused enough pain to enough people.

Leaving was hard, but it was something you knew you had to do, for yourself, and for Ellie. You had packed up your things from your ex fiancés apartment after having a heart to heart with her. You didn’t deserve it at all, but she was understanding, far too understanding for someone who you’d left at the fucking alter.

You traveled, and took time to heal your soul, heal the person who had trouble seeing how much she was worth, and how much she deserved the love that someone was once willing to give.

And wishing on every single star, that someday, someone else might love you the way Ellie loved you.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t let go of her, you couldn’t leave all of these loose ends untied.

Being in love was so fucking hard.

It’s exactly a year later, and you’re stood outside of the comic book store that Ellie works at.

Or, at least you hoped she still worked there, a lot could change in a year, you could only bank on the idea that she was still working at the dorky job a year later.

The thought makes you smile softly to yourself, thinking back to all the times you teased the girl for her love of comic books, watching as that manifested in her job years later when you two were adults.

You gripped the strap of your cross body bag, inhaling deeply as you stared up at the store as you stood on the city side walk, a gentle huff leaving your lips before you walked in.

The bell at the top of the door dings softly, and your eyes scan the store, barely giving the man behind the counter a nod as he welcomes you in.

It’s empty, music playing in the background, the smell of books and ink filling your nose as you looked around the colorful shop. It had been so long since you’d been there, often times showing up at Ellie’s job to harass her when you were close by, eager to bring her home with you the second she was off the clock.

“Um…can I help you?” The man asks softly, watching as your eyes scanned the room slowly, clearly looking for someone.

Your head turns in his direction, and you clear your throat as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, nodding as you walked over to him. You looked behind the counter as you spoke, barely interested in the man with the thick glasses.

“Yeah…uh…does Ellie still work here? Ellie Williams?” You ask gently, your eyes finally settling on the man.

He hums softly, rolling his eyes gently as he nods. “Should’ve guessed it, all the hot girls come in looking for her” he scoffed, jealously dripping from his tongue as he nodded his head towards one of the aisles of books more towards the back, his eyes drifting back down to the comic book he was reading.

“She’s already pretty occupied…gonna have to get in line” he mumbled softly.

And your heart almost fucking stops when you see her.

She’s leaned up against the aisle, you can only see her back, but you know it’s her. Her hair is shorter, and she seems to have put on a bit more muscle since you last saw her, she’s got more tattoos now too.

And there’s probably the prettiest fucking girl standing in front of her, twirling her hair between her fingers as she giggles at something Ellie’s saying.

You want to just fucking die right then and there.

Because all of this is a mistake, how could you ever think this would work? That Ellie wouldn’t be fine? Moved on and completely past what happened between you and her, she had surgery to get rid of her fucking feelings for you for gods sake.

You want to disappear, and pretend like none of this never happened and you didn’t even come out all this way in the first place.

“Fuck…I…um…thanks..” you mumble quickly, giving the man a gentle nod before you turn on your heels to leave.

You faintly hear someone emerge from the back, a loud, annoyed groan rumbling from their chest. “Williams! Quit flirting and get back to work” the mystery woman calls out, which earns an annoyed, ur exaggerated groan from Ellie.

“I am working! She was asking for-“ Ellie’s words are cut short when she catches your behind making it for the door.

Because no matter what, Ellie recognizes you.

You cringe when you hear her call out your name, your hand on the door handle. For a moment, you almost want to play it off, pretend like you didn’t hear her, or you aren’t the person she’s thinking of in the first place.

But the sound of your name falling from her lips is one you’ve wanted to hear for so fucking long.

Turning around and locking eyes with her nearly knocks the air right out of your chest, forcing you to take a deep inhale to hide the way your breath hitches. Her eyes are so fucking pretty, she’s so fucking pretty..

God, she always had been.

You give her a half smile, your fingers tugging at the strap of your bag as you give her a small wave.

“Hey, Ellie…” you breath out, watching as she walks towards you, nodding at your words.

“Been a long time…where you been?” She questions.

Her tone is too casual, and she’s looking right fucking through you. You’ve seen Ellie treat people like this before, that awful, polite demeanor she’d put on for strangers, or new people that you’d introduce her too. She doesn’t give you that shy smile that you love so much, the one you see right before her strong arms wrap around your body and pull you in close, her nose pressing against your neck and inhaling deeply.

You blink a few times, seemingly breaking yourself out of your trance as you stare up at her, clearing your throat as you nod.

“Yeah…works been pretty hectic” you mutter out sheepishly, to which she gives a nod, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Right…you’re um…a writer, right?” She squinted as she spoke, as if searching for a sliver of a memory that she had of you.

It makes you feel fucking sick, because there was once a time where Ellie knew everything about you.

You bit your bottom lip softly before you gave her a nod. “Yup…I am” you breathed out softly, hating the slow, awkward build up that came with talking to her now.

You simply stared up at her for a moment before you cleared your throat, flipping your bag open and shoving your hand, rummaging around in it before you finally got hold of the small envelope that you’d been hanging onto for far too long.

You stared down at the letter for a moment, inhaling deeply before you handed it to her.

“I just came to give this to you…” you explained, watching as the girl looked down at the paper with a confused expression before she took it from your hand.

When she took it, her fingers brushed against yours. You flinched when this happened, because you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your finger tips, Ellie must’ve felt it too, because she groaned softly before she brought her fingers to her lips, her tongue running over where it must’ve hurt.

You muttered a quick apology, yet she still stared down at the letter before she looked back at you.

“You came here to deliver…a letter? From who?” She questioned you.

You inhaled deeply before you nodded. “Just…read it whenever…okay?” You asked gently, eyeing the girl, needing to hear that she’d read it.

“Um…yeah…okay” she nodded slowly as she watched the letter closely before she pushed it into her back pocket, one of her hands coming up to scratch the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Was good seein’ you I guess…” she mumbled out.

Her awkward tone made you want to cringe, because you knew she got like this when she didn’t know what to say, or wanted the conversation to just end to she could get back to something she enjoyed more…

Probably that girl she was talking to.

You inhaled deeply before giving her a quick nod. “Right!…I’ll um…see you around” you smiled softly before giving her a small wave.

When you turned around to leave, you let out an exhale that felt as thought you had been holding it in from the moment you found out about Ellie’s condition, holding the weight on your shoulders with it.

You could only hope, that this final goodbye would give you both what you needed.

Contrary to what you might’ve thought, Ellie remembered most things from your friendship.

She remembers how you two met, she remembers most memories you have together, and she sure as hell remembers the way you used to make her feel…

But now she just…didn’t really feel any of it anymore.

It wasn’t like she woke up after having her surgery with zero recollection of you. She knew why she was there, and she knew what procedure she had done, but it was all just…different after she woke up. It was like the pain in her chest was gone, and the icky, hollow feeling she had when she thought about you had left completely. After Ellie got rid of the flowers in her lungs, her life was completely normal.

Almost completely normal.

Ellie had this nagging feeling, one that made her feel like she was always forgetting something, or leaving something behind. It would come and go, but when it was present, it would settle on her shoulders, and annoy her to no fucking end.

In all honesty? She chalked up that feeling to be the lingering memories she had of you that were slowly drifting away.

Every day, she forgot more things about you. They’d fall through the cracks so easily, like the memories that she used to hold so dearly to her heart were now so insignificant that there was no use in forgetting them.

Her doctor told her just to ignore them, for her own sake.

So? She carried on. Ellie was happy, there were barely any lingering thoughts of you, no pain in her heart or in her lungs. She could rest easy, and she felt she was forever indebted to her doctors for helping her through one of the toughest points in her entire life.

She was drawn to girls like you, though. She didn’t realize it at first, but they’d always have at least one thing that reminded her of you. One girl had your smile, another had your eyes, one even had a laugh that was nearly identical to yours, all of them making her heart jolt only for a second, her frown coming soon after she realized just why those girls evoked such strong emotions from her.

Seeing you at the comic book store was fucking weird, though.

It was like seeing an old friend from high school. You know? The ones you’re so close with, the ones you lay in bed with and plan futures together, your adolescent minds sure that nothing and no one could ever come between you two or the life you have planned together. And then you graduate, and as much as you try to keep in touch and make those dreams happen, the inevitable happens, and the person you once saw as your soulmate, turns into a stranger.

That’s what seeing you for the first time after her surgery is like.

And you looked so…different. She had almost forgotten your face completely, bur she knew for a fact you’d changed. Your hair was a bit longer, and you still had the same old red bag you loved so much, the one with a star on the front and rips on the side. You were still you..

But you weren’t at the same time.

There was something missing from your eyes, a certain glare, or shine…

A twinkle, that wasn’t there anymore.

It makes Ellie frown to herself when you turn around and leave. She couldn’t help herself from being awkward around you, because what are you even supposed to say to the person that forced you into having one of the worst conditions she’d ever had in her entire life? Hi? How are you?

She’d almost completely forgotten about the letter you gave her until she got home.

Ellie let out a gentle sigh, tugging off her headphones from her head, and tossing her denim jacket to the side. She was so fucking tired, and all she wanted to do was seep for the rest of the weekend.

She was in her bedroom, tugging off her loose jeans and tossing them into her laundry hamper. When she did that, she caught a sliver of the white paper peeking out from her back pocket, making her remember the interaction she had with you earlier that day.

Her hands outstretched to grab it from the hamper, a gentle hum leaving her lips as she moved to sit down on her bed, her eyes scanning over the paper carefully, a gentle confused frown on her lips.

When she opens it, she sees that there are a few things inside. She decides to focus on the letter that’s neatly folded up first.

Hey El

It’s been a year since I’ve seen you, and a year since a couple of other things…but I wanted to give this to you just for the sake of it. I’m not even sure if you remember me, or our friendship, I’m not sure how far the surgery goes, so there’s a few things in here that’ll help you remember if you’d like to, it’s up to you.

How are you? I hope you’re doing well, eating well, taking care of yourself and all that. I’ve talked to Joel a few times and he says you’re doing good, which is always great to hear.

Writing this, all I can think about is when we first met, I’d go as far as to say you had my heart from that point but I won’t, seems pretty pointless to say that now. It was almost like the world brought us together to fight the forces of evil or something, at least that’s how I looked at it when I was a kid.

I love you so much, Ellie. Even after all this time, my love never faded, not once, and it kills me to think you had to endure this for so long and I simply sat back and let it happen, let you suffer. I hope that if you haven’t found her yet, you’ll find a girl that can see what I couldn’t.

Maybe this letter is more for me than it is for you, and maybe I’m stupid for even doing this, but I feel it’s fitting as a final goodbye. It’s time I let you go, but I couldn’t do that without letting you know just how much you’ve impacted my life, and how you’ll do so for as long as I live.

If you read this, thanks. If you didn’t, I don’t blame you. Just wanted to let you know that I love you, El…always and forever

Ellie didn’t even realize her vision was becoming blurry as she read your letter, your handwriting so neat, so pretty, scribbling out such sad words. She could practically feel your sorrow seeping from the paper and into her heart.

Her throat burned, and if it wasn’t for her own tears sliding down her cheeks and falling onto the paper, she wouldn’t even have realized just how much reading it was affecting her.

She sniffled, eyes scanning over the paper once more before she gently set it to the side. She grabbed the envelope and looked inside.

Tucked inside of it, were a few photos. It was the ones you had found when you were packing up your apartment, the one of you and her at the beach, the one of you playing with her hair, and the one of you and her sleeping on the couch.

There’s one thing left in the envelope, and if all of the other things you put in wasn’t enough to make her cry, then this was…

It was the bracelet that Ellie had made you when you were kids.

Ellie could never forget about you, she could never forget about what you both went through and what you made her feel, but god was she close. She was so close to overcoming it all, and getting passed the phase where she still had any memories and feelings of you still at the forefront of her brain.

But the thought of it all just disappearing with you made an area of her heart deep so hard, it almost hurt.

It was an area that had laid dormant for so long, an area that had once been reserved for you. It was slowly becoming a gray space in her soul, something that no longer belonged to anyone.

Deep down she always knew it would always be reserved for you.

It’s like everything comes flooding back in, reminding her of just how much she felt for you, how strong her feelings were for you. It’s like she never even had the surgery, because she can suddenly feel everything return just as strong as before, if not stronger.

It’s all back, a swarm of feelings returning and settling right where they used to be, putting her right back in the position that she was in a year ago…

Only this time, there’s no pain.

The love has returned, but the nagging pain in her chest hasn’t. It feels pure, and the ugly feeling that she used to hold in her heart seems to have disappeared completely.

Because finally, Ellie’s love was reciprocated.

She can’t even think anything through, because suddenly she’s getting up off her bed. There aren’t many thoughts in her head, her own feet moving beneath her before she can form a coherent plan of what her next move is, what she wants to do with the feelings blooming in her heart, the ones that once laid dormant.

All Ellie knows, is that she needs to find you, and she needs to find you now.

When you were 19 years old, you told Ellie Williams you’d marry her one day.

The promise fell from your lips with a drunk giggle, barely aware of what it was that you were saying, barely aware of the fact that you were revealing one of your biggest secrets, pulling the curtains away and giving yourself bare to Ellie.

Although you didn’t remember telling her, marrying her was still a dream of yours.

And maybe you never said anything sober because you felt it was too out of reach. Maybe you kept it to yourself as a form of self sabotage, keeping your friendship with Ellie as safe as possible, because you treasured it, and her, and you didn’t want to ever lose her.

When you’re 22, when you ran away from your first wedding, white dress in hand, tears ruining your makeup, wanting nothing more than to be with your best friend, the girl who had your heart all this time, but you were use too stubborn to realize it.

It was one of the lowest moments for you, a time where you had to look back at all of your decisions, everything that had lead you to that point, wondering where you went wrong, why the hell you didn’t pay enough attention to your best friend to notice that she was suffering.

All because of you.

You felt like you didn’t deserve any second chances, and a year later, when you delivered the letter to her, you were ready to let it go, to let any and all dreams of being with Ellie disappear with you in the wind.

But now, you’re 25, and you’re getting ready to walk down the aisle to her.

Because the night that Ellie read your letter, she ran to you. She ran out of her apartment, to her car, and drove straight to where she hoped you were still living, all so that she could tell you to not leave, to tell you that you brought it back, all of her feelings resurfacing, bubbling to the top as if they’d been waiting to do so that entire time.

Doctors said it was a miracle, having never seen someone’s feeling so strong that they withstood the surgery, fighting against it all and coming back as if they’d never left.

Looking at yourself in the mirror for the second time, in a different dress, a different dressing room, a different engagement ring on your finger, almost felt surreal. You felt like you didn’t deserve it, like you didn’t deserve Ellie and the second chance that she had given you.

But there was no way in hell you’d run away, not again.

Not with Ellie.

And it’s just like the movies. Because as you’re walking down the aisle to her, it’s like no one is there, there’s no one in the room but you and her, and you can’t bring yourself to care about deserving it, or her, or a second chance.

Because you deserve love, both of you do.

You found it in each other.

And all of a sudden, you’re on your honeymoon with her. It’s a beautiful secluded island, the moon shining down on the calm beach, it looks almost identical to the night that you told Ellie you’d marry her.

You’re on top of her, your pussy slotted down onto hers as you make love to her on the beach.

Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, the moon shining down brightly into them, tattooed hands gripping your hips and ass tightly as she helped you grind down onto her sopping wet core, watching in awe as your tits bounced above her.

Your back arched as you threw your head back, a loud moan leaving your lips before you looked back down at your wife.

“L-love you so much, El….im…fuck…my pretty girl” you whined out, eyes never leaving hers.

She smirked softly as she watched you before a soft moan left her lips, giving you an encouraging nod. “Your girl…all yours…fuck…keep going baby, doing so good for me” she groaned out, her bottom lip tugging beneath her teeth as she bit down on the soft skin.

“All mine..” you whimpered out softly before you bent down, your chest pressing against hers as you captured her lips in a feverish kiss, filled with love and passion, enough so that it’s nearly enough to make you cry.

Ellie moans into your mouth, her tongue pushing in and rubbing against yours, her hips desperately jerking up to meet your movements, matching the way you rolled your hips against her.

When you break the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, one of your hands reaching down and pulling hers from your hip, pressing it against the blanket that was laid out on the sand and interlocking it with yours.

“Wanna…wanna feel you cum with me…fuck…please” you practically begged, making Ellie nod quickly as she stared into your eyes.

“I’m close…fuck…I’m….i love you so fucking much…fuck” she gritted out, followed by a needy moan as she squeezed your hand.

The sound of your orgasms mixes in with the gentle waves of the ocean, like a harmony that’s purely made up of you, Ellie, and the earth. It’s beautiful, and you wish you had it on tape or something because it’s such beautiful sound of love that’s made from you and her.

When you both calm down, a blanket is tugged over your naked bodies as you both lay there on the beach, staring up at the sky. Ellie’s arms are wrapped around you, your head resting on her shoulder, legs tangled up in one another as you simply stare up at the stars, enjoying each others presence.

“You think anyone’s out there doing this same thing right now?” You asked softly, a gentle smile on your lips as you repeat the words that you’d said years ago, in the same situation that you were in now.

Ellie chuckles softly, a deep breath falling from her lips followed by a gentle hum.

“None like us baby….” She said, her words muffled as she pressed a kiss to your temple.

And she’s right, because none will ever love like you love each other.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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flowersforjude · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A night in a beautiful meadow and an innocent question leads to a startling confession.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,422

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Literally none. Just an oblivious reader and nervous Din. Fluff rised to the max.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Guy’s, this made me weep with how cute it is. So, just fair warning I guess?

masterlist | read on ao3

Like most things, it started with a simple question.

“Cyar’ika, can you hand me that wrench?”

You were helping Din with some repairs on the Crest when you heard that word for the hundredth time.

As you picked up the tool, your mind wrestled with the wandering thoughts of what that word meant. Din called you that all the time. He’d throw some others in the mix every once in a while.

Mesh’la.

Cyar.

Cyar’ika was the most common, though. You didn’t speak a bit of Mando’a, so you had no clue what he was calling you. He could be calling you the worst thing ever, and you wouldn’t even know. But even with his rough exterior, you highly doubted that he was referring to you as anything too horrible.

With every cyar, mesh’la, or cyar’ika your curiosity grew. But you didn’t voice your questions out of fear that you’d overstep some invisible boundary. You and Din were close—well, as close as the Mandalorian would let himself get to you. He’d told you his true name, so you counted that as progress. He still had so many secrets, though. So you didn’t want to push him to reveal stuff he wasn’t ready for. You would take whatever he’d give you. You would have him, however you could.

But sometimes your interest was almost too much.

Like at daybreak when he would touch your shoulder oh so gently and say, “Good morning, cyar.” In that deep, velvety cadence his voice had in the mornings.

Or when you’d just had a close call on a mission and he would rush to you, frantic, and place his hands on your cheeks. “Are you alright, cyar’ika? Are you hurt?” The words would leave his lips in a hurry and sometimes jumble together. You knew what he was saying nonetheless.

It was those moments when he showed you gentleness, concern, and care that you found it hard not to blurt out everything on your mind.

“What does cyar’ika mean?”

“What does cyar and mesh’la mean?”

“Do you know what it does to me when you touch me?”

“Do you love me as much as I love you?”

But you kept quiet and let the thoughts mingle in your mind. You were just going to leave well enough alone. Hoping that possibly ignoring your curiosity would make it, and your developing feelings fade away. That proved to require arduous effort, which you found yourself lacking day by day. And eventually, your efforts proved to be in vain.

The night it happened, the Crest had landed on some forest planet. Din had just wrapped up a difficult hunt, so he perched the ship on the first globe he could. You and the kid had been cooped up inside for days now, so as soon as the hatch opened, you were both bounding down from the cockpit.

The kid ran into the tall grass of the field, chasing frogs and crickets with the moonlight guiding his expedition. You stood close to the ship, just watching him with a loving smile. Din came to stand beside you, quite as ever, but his presence was a comfort you relished in far too much.

The first blink of light had you curious. The second and third and fourth flashes had you in awe.

The serene meadow was set ablaze with glittering brightness. Fireflies floated high and low, strung about the tall grass like hundreds of flawless silvery stars. They blanketed the grassland far and wide, down to the glimmering lake in the distance.

“Oh wow,” you breathed. You ventured farther out into the plain, turning in a slow circle, absolutely awestruck.

You could hear the child’s gurgling laughter from nearby. You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from your throat. The dazzling excitement from the whole experience makes you somewhat astounded. You've never seen anything like this before. Something so beautiful.

You face Din, still standing guard at the front of the ship. “Isn’t this spectacular?” You questioned.

You could hear the airy chuckle get past his vocoder. “It’s certainly something.”

You rolled your eyes in a very childish manner and tilted your head in confusion. “How could you think this is anything but…what’s the word for beautiful in Mando’a?”

You’ve caught his full attention now, seemingly catching him off guard. He appears stunned beyond words. Beyond thoughts as well perhaps. You don’t understand why. It was just a simple question, but it seemed to have knocked any rational notion from him.

What you don’t know is that while you look at him with such sincerity in your eyes and you wait slightly nervous for his response, his brain is nothing short of a mess.

“Din,” you begin. “If I’ve crossed a line somehow-”

“The word is mesh’la.”

That stops you short. Your heart thudded to a halt for several seconds as you took in the sudden confession.

“Mesh’la,” you repeat softly.

You have no idea that his knees almost buckle at the sound of your voice speaking in his mother tongue.

Your face heats at the implication. Mesh’la means beautiful. Din calls you Mesh’la. Din calls you beautiful. He thinks you're beautiful? Or was it meant as something like a courtesy? Was he just being a flirt? No, Din wasn’t the type. So he must think it if he calls you it.

“Y/N.”

You speak up before he can get another word out. “You think I’m beautiful?”

He nods. “Yes.”

A grin tugs your lips up ever so slightly. Realization dawns on you as your mind recalls all the affectionate exchanges that you fooled yourself into thinking were merely friendly.

A coo from below takes your attention for a moment. The kid is at your feet with his arms stretched up for you. You hold him in the crook of your elbow as you close the distance between you and Din. When you stop in front of him, a radiant smile is permanently placed upon your lips.

“And uh, cyar’ika,” you whisper. “What does that mean…?” You’re a little hesitant to let all your questions come to light. A small part of you still worried you’re reading too much into it.

He takes a deep breath, and you try to ignore the anxiety coursing through you. “Cyar’ika…” He’s never sounded this breathless before. “It means sweetheart.”

The blood rushes to your cheeks with a new fury, painting your skin scarlet. It terrifies you a little that you can’t see his face, that you can’t read the expressions he is wearing right now. You think you know where this is going, but not being able to sense the situation from the other person makes it hard to be sure. You can see that he’s tense, possibly waiting for you to tell him that you were uncomfortable. But you weren't; you were a nervous wreck, but you were not uncomfortable with this knew information in the slightest. You were trying to figure out how to move forward with this without seeming like a lovesick fool.

After waiting an eternity trying to get a hold of yourself, you make a decision. You slowly bring your hands up to him, gently gliding along his arms until they reach the broad expanse of his shoulders, and then the cool surface of his helmet.

You can feel his panic, but you softly sush him. Eventually, your hands still on the side of his helmet, where you imagine his cheeks would be. You picture them flushed like yours. Even through the impenetrable beskar, you feel like the heat of his skin is melting into yours. You imagine how it would actually feel to be skin to skin with him. If you ever had the privilege to experience that, you were sure you could die happy.

What happens next is a surprise. Din clutches your hands in his and brings them down between you both. He then slowly touches his forehead to yours. The shock of cold metal draws a gasp from your lips.

“Ni ganar hid ner kar'taylir darasuum teh gar par chaaj'yc too munit, cyar’ika.” A whispered admission comes from him.

You can’t help but laugh as you have no clue what he said. “What?”

He chuckles along with you. “I said that I have hidden my love from you for far too long, sweetheart.”

Your heart cracks open with so many emotions that it’s overwhelming. It aches inside you, but the pain is welcome because you’d rather have this, him, than the uncertainty you lived in for so long.

I poured over this for days, and I still feel like something isn't right. But oh well, maybe it'll come to me later. 🤷‍♀️

#pedro pascal #the mandolarian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolorian x you #the mandolorain imagine #din djarin #din djarin x y/n #din djarin imagine #din dijarin x reader #star wars #star wars imagine

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cuubism · 1 year

Text

"What if modern Hob was actually worse?" drabble to go along with the silly little post from earlier

“This,” says Dream, looking around the darkened alley with one eyebrow arched, “is a far cry from teacups.”

Hob peers up at him from where he’s systematically checking the life status of the many dead and close-to-dead individuals on the ground. “Did you think that was the only tool in my box? It’s not exactly my weapon of choice.”

“No.” Dream watches placidly as Hob finds one man still living, albeit barely, and deftly snaps his neck. “It seems that would be your hands.”

Hob winks at him. “Maybe so.”

“Is it strictly necessary to kill them all now? You are making quite a lot of work for my sister.”

“They’ve seen you,” Hob says, terse and serious again. He checks another man’s pulse, finds nothing, moves on. “They know who you are, what you are. Are clearly willing to do what they want with that. I’m not going to let someone take you again, Dream.”

Dream leans against the wall. He is still playing the moment over in his mind. The sudden attack on the street, the magical bonds they had tried to wrap around Dream, Hob jumping to his defense before Dream himself could, his quick and vicious counterattack that had reminded Dream vividly of the savagery of some of Hob’s past lives.

The assailants were armed with knives and various magical implements Dream would have to examine later, and Hob had taken all of them out with his bare hands.

“I had not realized your current lifetime was so… physical,” Dream says.

“Right, right. Quiet uni professor, never hurt a fly.” Hob finishes his business with the bodies and crosses back over to him. “You think staying under the radar is so easy nowadays?”

Dream gives him a wry half-smile as Hob stops before him where he’s still leaned against the wall. “I think that there several secret immortals in this world, and not all of them are killing ten people on the street without breaking a sweat.”

He doesn’t quite know what to feel about it. There is something… primal and satisfying about watching Hob draw blood for him. Dream’s own creations hadn’t even waited for him in the Dreaming, but Hob Gadling will kill for him.

“Maybe they’re missing out,” Hob says, a twinkle in his eye. There is a smear of blood on his temple where one of the attackers had caught the surface level of his skin with a blade, but he reaches for Dream’s hand. “Can I see your wrist?”

Dream places his arm in Hob’s hands. His skin, likewise, is marred with a burn where one of the bonds had snared him. It is already fading, and will likely vanish entirely once he returns to the Dreaming.

“Does that hurt?” Hob asks, something tremulous in his voice.

“No.”

“Good.” Hob casts a dark look back over his shoulder at the prone bodies. “I’d kill them all over again.”

“Hob Gadling,” Dream chides, though with no real censure. “Have you learned nothing in your six centuries on this planet?”

Hob steps closer so he’s in Dream’s space properly, almost touching. He meets Dream’s eyes, runs his tongue over his lower lip. “Only a few things.”

“And what things are those?” Dream asks.

“I thought we did the whole, and how are you using your life this time around, Hob? thing already,” Hob says.

“Perhaps I am interested in learning more,” says Dream. He takes his hand back and wipes away a drop of blood trailing down Hob’s temple with his thumb. “Considering it’s being used in service of me.”

“Oh, is it now?”

“Is it not?”

Hob takes Dream’s face between his hands. Dangerous hands, these, and yet Dream wants Hob’s touch all the more. Whatever slow simmering thing has been warming between them since his return has quickened into a proper blaze at the sight of Hob defending him.

Dream thinks perhaps he should be disappointed in Hob. But that is not what he feels.

He sees what will happen next, anticipates their collision the way he imagines Destiny might foresee such things. He sees Hob’s gentle touch, and the wet heat of his mouth. The ferocious love of this dangerous thing he’s had a part in creating.

“Does it bother you?” Hob might ask later. “The violence.”

And Dream might say, “You are speaking to the King of Nightmares, Hob Gadling.”

“It is when you need it to be,” Hob says, and kisses him.

#i've been having such a struggle in actually finishing wips recently so good to finish a little drabble i think #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #my writing #dark hob #omg this is just the bandit/lord dynamic again but in present day XD of course it is. that's my fav

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vbecker10 · 1 day

Text

I Don't Hate You

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: You've worked at SHIELD for years and you were severely injured by Loki when he escaped from his cell on the helicarrier. It's been a year since the attack on NY and one day you finally cross paths with Loki after a month of him actively avoiding you.

Warning: Loki being upset, Loki feeling guilty, Loki feeling like he deserves to be hated, brief mentions of Loki's torture, previous injury caused by Loki... this will have a fluffy end, promise 💚

You shift positions to get more comfortable on the couch then turn the page of your book. I might be able read this whole book tonight, you think excitedly. The Tower was quiet which was a rare occurrence, the whole team decided to go out for drinks so you have the library to yourself. After a moment, you turn the next page but suddenly you feel as if you aren't alone.

Looking up, you see Loki standing in the doorway as if he is frozen with anxiety. He briefly makes eye contact with you and turns to leave.

"Wait," you sit up, closing your book in your lap. "You can stay," you offer and he turns back to face you. "There's plenty of space," you gesture towards the other empty couch.

"I wouldn't want to disturb you," he says, shaking his head as he remains halfway between the hall and the room.

You sigh quietly, that's the first thing he's said to you in the month since you've been back from medical leave. Loki had become almost an expert in avoiding you, the closest you had come to being in the same room with him was during a briefing last week. As soon as you took your seat at the table, he excused himself and left.

He nods in response to your offer to join you but doesn't say anything. He quietly makes his way over to the large bookcases that line the wall and begins to search for a book. You try to focus on where you left off in yours but you can't seem to take your eyes off him. He seems so nervous around you and although you aren't sure what you expected from him, this wasn't it.

He selects a book and walks to the far end of the other couch, glancing towards you as he sits. You both quickly look away from each other and try to settle into your books. After a few minutes of silence he sighs and closes the book. You pretend to continue reading as you watch him return his book and begin the process of selecting one again.

"Can't decide what to read?" you ask after a moment.

He turns, his expression clearing showing that he doesn't expect you to speak to him. He shrugs, "I've read all of these..." He looks at the book he is currently holding, "Some more then a few times."

"Oh," you look at the tall, full shelves. There must be four hundred books in this room. "Wow," you react honestly.

"I read quickly," he offers a simple explanation.

"Why don't you get new ones?" you ask as if the solution is obvious.

He puts the book he is holding away and looks down at the ground, "I'm not permitted to leave the Tower unless its for a mission." He pulls a seemingly random book from the shelf and walks over to the closest seat on the other couch this time.

"Right, I forgot I guess," you suddenly feel awkward for suggesting it.

Loki was given strick orders not to leave the Tower after an incident a few months before you returned from medical leave. He had gone to a small Cafe with his brother in the morning and ended up on the news a few hours later. According to the reports you watched from rehab, he had been on line waiting for his order when a woman who lost her husband during his attack on NYC came in. She walked over to him and started screaming that he was a monster and should be rotting in a cell on whatever planet he came from. Thor tried to defuse the situation while Loki remained completely silent. Her rant finally ended when she threw some bystanders coffee at him and he left.

The two of you sit in silence for a minute then you suddenly get an idea. "Oh," you say and he looks up from the book he has no interest in.

"I think I have something that can help," you tell him. You limp slowly towards him as you unlock your phone. Sitting next to him, you feel self conscious when he shifts away from you, his eyes fixed on the metal brace supporting your leg.

His jaw tightens and his body tenses as he rubs his hands slowly together. You clear your throat, hoping to distract him from your injury and it works. He looks at you, "Here," you hand him your phone.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Its the New York Public Library," you tell him, "Well, their website at least."

He looks at you a bit confused. "What am I supposed to do with this? I'm not allowed to go to the library," he says.

"You don't need to go," you tell him with a smile. "They can bring the books here."

"I wonder why no one told you about this. They've had this for years," you say.

His eyes fill with excitement at the thought of being able to get new books. You explain the book delivery program then show him how to search for books by author, title or genre. His smile spreads as you sign him up for a library card then sit back to watch him scroll through a long list of poets.

The smile leaves his face and he admits, "I never told anyone that I had run out of books."

"Why not?" you ask.

"No one would care," he answers instantly.

When you don't say anything, he looks up from your phone and briefly makes eye contact with you. "I don't understand why you of all people would care enough to help me, to be honest. I have done nothing to deserve even the smallest kindness from you," he says as his eyes fall to your injured leg again. The joy you had seen on his face moments ago has faded completely and in a low voice he says, "I nearly killed you."

With a sigh, he nods, "I remember everyone I've hurt... or killed."

You're caught off guard by the sudden shift in topics but say, "I thought you remembered me."

"Can we just talk for a minute?" you ask, standing with him.

You gently reach out and touch his knee, causing him to jump at the sudden contact. "I'm sorry," he says as soon as you touch him. "I should go," he tells you and he gets up.

He shakes his head. "I'm not supposed to be alone with you," he admits. "Fury wants me as far from my..." he clears his throat, "victims as possible while I am here."

He looks torn about what to do but finally nods and sits down heavily. You sit next to him again but he doesn't look at you, his eyes are fixed on his hands. His knee shakes nervously and you realize he's waiting for you to lash out at him as so many people have in the wake of the attack.

"I- I didn't realize he did that," you say in shock. "I thought you were just avoiding me because of... well because of what happened."

He shrugs but doesn't respond, giving you the feeling that he might still have distanced himself from you even if he wasn't ordered to do so.

You bite your lip and say, "I'm sure Fury means well but... I just want to talk to you. If that's okay with you?"

You had imagined this moment so many times over the last year. What you would say to him and how he would react. You look at him even as he avoids looking at you and say, "I just want to to know, I don't hate you for what happened."

He shakes his head as if he doesn't believe you and says, "You should hate me, everyone does."

"I don't," you tell him simply.

He finally looks at you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity in his eyes, "How could you not after what I did to you and so many others?"

You sigh and admit, "I used to hate you."

"But... but not anymore?" he asks.

You take a deep breath, this is the part you practiced telling him most often. "When I was in the hospital, I did hate you. I hated you more then I ever thought I could possibly hate another person. I wanted you to feel the pain and fear you inflicted on me when you were escaping. I wanted you to suffer after every surgery, after every fall I had in rehab, after every doctor told me I would never walk without some sort of brace," you tell him honestly and he nods as if he agrees with you.

You pause for a moment and wait for him to look at you again, "It was truly exhausting."

He doesn't say anything but he keeps eye contact with you. "It took so much energy to hate to," you tell him. "It was draining me."

"A few months after my first surgery, I had some of the agents I'm friends with being over your case files and I watched all your news interviews," you continue to explain.

"Why?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

"I wanted to know if you were as evil as everyone said, if you were really a monster from another world who deserved to be hated," you tell him.

"I am a monster," he says, his eyes lowering to the ground in front of him.

His body tenses as soon as you mention Thanos's name. His eyes widen in fear and he says, "What do you know about- how could you know that? My SHIELD files doesn't contain any information about him."

"No," you tell him, touching his arm lightly and he looks up at you slowly. "You're not a monster, you're a victim of Thanos."

You fidget nervously at his reaction and say, "I... I found the restricted files SHIELD has about you, the ones with your interview-"

He gets up suddenly, his voice laced emotion but you are unsure if he is angry, hurt or embarrassed, "You read that?"

You nod, "I'm sorry-"

"No one was supposed to be able to access that. Fury said it would be sealed, that was why I agreed to tell my brother what happened," he says as he paces. He turns to face you and you can see he is holding back tears, "You shouldn't have read that. I don't want anyone to know what he did to me."

You had read all twenty six pages of the typed transcripts and listened to hours of Loki detailing his torture to Thor. He spoke about being physically hurt but also about being mentally broken by the mad titan. He lost track of time, unsure if weeks, months or years had passed while he was under Thanos's control. By the time you finished listening to his account of what happened, you had lost every ounce of hate you once harbored for him. He was more a victim than anyone.

You take a step towards him and he takes a step back, shaking his head. You reach for his hand and he lets you hold it without pulling away. "Loki," he looks at you, the first tear running down his cheek. "I'm sorry Thanos tortured you," you tell him honestly.

He shakes his head as if he can't accept your words.

You take another step towards him, still holding his hand in yours. "I'm sorry he hurt you," you say again and this time he doesn't move away from you.

"No one..." he tries to take a deep breath, "No one has ever said that to me before."

Now it's your turn to be shocked, "Not even your brother?"

He shakes his head and without thinking, you wrap your arms around him tightly. His whole body stiffens in response at first but slowly, he lifts his arms to hug you back and his body relaxes against yours. He rests his head on your shoulder and you rub his back gently.

You hold him until he slowly pulls away. Taking his hand again, you lead him back to the couch.

"You didn't deserve anything that he did to you," you tell him. When he looks at you, you can't help but raise your hand, wiping a tear from his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into your soft touch.

He opens his eyes after a moment and quietly says, "Thank you Y/N. I'm so tired of everyone hating me. I never thought anyone would ever try to understand what happened to me."

You smile at him and quickly kiss his cheek, which is a surprise to both of you. "What was that for?" he asks, a small laugh escapes him.

He smiles and nods, "Can you do it again?"

"I don't know," you admit with a nervous giggle, "I just... It felt like something I should do. I'm sorry, was that okay?"

You smile and kiss his cheek again, "Is that making you feeling better?"

"For the first time in a very long time, yes," he says.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods @jiyascepter @eleniblue

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mod-kyoko · 9 months

Note

Hello! Hope you’re having a good day/night. Could I please request Nagito x gn reader that was helping take care of him during the whole despair disease outbreak, and whenever Nagito said ‘I hate you’ the reader would just respond with something along the lines of “Love you too, Komaeda.” Could be headcanons, oneshot, or whatever. Whichever you’d prefer.

Sorry if this sounds weird, I don’t usually make requests lol. Thanks in advance!!

taking care of despair diseased nagito

type: in killing game, hc format, established relationship

a/n: anon it's so crazy i was literally just playing chapter 3 of dra2 and was at the part when they get the disease

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you noticed right away that something was wrong with nagito

every word that came out of his mouth was a lie

it was almost like he couldn't speak the truth at all

when hajime felt his forehead and noticed that nagito was burning up, you knew that was the reason behind his behavior

monokuma popped up soon after, confirming that nagito was indeed afflicted by the lying disease

still, you didn't understand why some disease would cause nagito to say things like nothing is real, everyone is fake, and everyone is out to get him

but it was impossible to reason with him, especially because not long after he passed out, crumpling to the floor

you lunged forward, grabbing onto him to soften his fall, and pulled him onto your lap

"mikan! we need to get him to the hospital!" you yelled, while everyone else stood by in shock

the nurse helped you carry nagito all the way to the hospital on the third island, where you laid him in a bed

"u- um, we need to get him out of his clothes and into a gown," mikan said

"i got it, go help ibuki and akane," you replied, so she left it to you

nagito regained consciousness while you were slipping his shirt over his head

"ah! what are you doing to me? ah, are you planning to abduct me and take me to your home planet?"

you would have laughed at the silliness of the question if he wasn't in such dire condition. instead, you replied patiently

"i'm not an alien, nagito" you reached for his pants to slide them down his legs, but he swats your hand away

"i don't... want..." he was struggling to finish his sentence without panting from the fever

"i know, i'm sorry. but i need to get you into a gown. would you rather have mikan do it?"

"yes, i would much prefer mikan do it," he rambled, staring at the wall

your heart fluttered a little bit, knowing he meant the opposite of what he said. but this wasn't the time to be flustered

after wrestling with your boyfriend a little bit, you finally got his pants off, and draped the gown around his shoulders

once you tied it, you let him lay back down on the bed, and he closed his eyes

at this point there wasn't anything else you can do, with no medic knowledge, so you decided to just comfort him through it

you reached out to pat his head, smoothing down his hair

he reacted weakly, shaking his head as if to shoo away your hand

"get your filthy hand off me," he snarled

by now you were starting to translate his words in your head

"go away (please stay)"

"stop touching me (don't stop)"

with one hand running through his hair, your other laced your fingers in his, watching as he shifted between a state of being awake and being unconscious

"i... hate you" he spat, beads of sweat collecting at his temple

"i love you too, nagito" you smiled, gently squeezing his hand

"i seriously... hate you... go away."

"i'm here, you're okay. i won't leave you."

"i don't want you here! go away!"

his eyes were watering, and you didn't know if he was crying because he was in pain or angry, so you reached out and wiped the tears away

"i want to be here, i won't leave you, i promise."

you could have sworn you felt him squeeze your hand back once before he slipped back into sleep

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#mod kyoko #danganronpa #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x reader #goodbye despair #nagito komaeda #nagito x reader

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yestrday · 4 days

Text

: ̗̀➛ ALL OR NOTHING. yan! aventurine / gn! reader

it's a nice feeling to finally be on the winning side, feigning fairness when all the winning cards are in his hand. but it's not like you can fault him for cheating. after all, you who has nothing chose to challenge him, the one who will gain everything.

( overarching theme of sl4very, anim4l cruelty, anim4l death, bl00d, graphic description of violence, hinted obsessive behavior, im unoriginal and stole kafkas spirit whisper for reader ) + 7.5k words

"It's just a bet," he suggests, as if this gamble won't cost you your everything. "Juuust a bet. Exactly what are you so scared of?"

He sits laid back in his plush velvet chair, twirling a cocktail as he enjoys the finest luxuries in life. He is clad head to toe in the finest clothing, dressed like a peacock waiting to impress. You, on the other hand, feel more like the peahen— dreadfully drab in your rags and no choice but to watch as the peacock flaunts his feathers. You are knelt on the ground, but your eyes show no submission.

"I'm not crazy, gambler," you bite. "I know the IPC. They are full of shit. And you, Aventurine." Your eyes set on him with hatred. "You're the smelliest of the lot."

Aventurine, the gem of lies and luck, sighs dramatically. "Pup, you know I don't like it when you're so vulgar, y'know? I'm giving you a chance at freedom, so you ought to at least treat me at least a little bit nicer. I'm not the one who shackled you, so I don't understand what the aggression is all about."

"You're the reason why I'm here in the first place!"

"No, Jade was." He presses a finger to your lip and you'd bite it if it weren't for the annoying bind you were under. "Jade came across you and thought you and your talent would make for a nice gift. You were a gift and I'm just the receiver. So don't go barking up the wrong tree, pup."

"So." He leans back into his couch and shoots you a sly grin. "Up for round one?"

You are lost.

The meaning of Paths and their symbolisms are lost on you. You don't care for Aeons— no one on your home planet was. You were busy diving in dumpsters for a scrape of food, tricking your 'friends' into sacrificing themselves for you, and killing whatever was left of your humanity just to make it to another day. You walk on no Path but yours.

You don't even know which way you're going. So you are lost.

You think Aventurine is lost too.

He has every detail of his facade practiced. His gait is relaxed enough to not be intimidating, but not sloppy enough to be called out as bad posture. He talks in a smooth voice that eases fools and makes enemies wary, his smile is charming to sway the opponent into another gamble, his hair is fixed to frame his pretty face, and he chooses words that cannot be turned into loopholes. He is Aventurine. But he is not himself.

He does not care for the Preservation, but he rejects the Elation. He is on his own Path too, but he knows the destination he must reach— his 'End'. In that way, he is different from you, because you know not your journey or your ending. Still, he is just as lost as you.

But he makes a darn good show of not seeming that way. Right now, you watch as he throws the dice on the table, and the whole table watches with bated breath as they turn. A six and one— he lost the bet to the other's six and five. They cackle gleefully as they collect their earnings from Aventurine. They have chips upon chips on their side of the table while Aventurine's winnings are cut in half.

"I think I'll call it a day, pretty boy," the gambler cackles, greedily eyeing his earnings and possibly dreaming about the cash he's made tonight. "Even a gambler knows when to call quits, right?"

Aventurine pouts. "Aww, so soon? C'mon, the night's only begun! Who knows, play another round and you might just end up with more money than you have right now~"

The man laughs again, obviously not fooled by his pity act. "Boy, I'm not as addicted as you are. I know when to stop instead of letting you bleed me out dry." But Aventurine isn't fazed; rather, he snaps his fingers and you lower your head as you step to his side.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? [Y. Name], be a dear and persuade this gentleman into another round with me."

A glow of your eyes. Then you fix the man with an eerie gaze as you say, bright and clear, "Hey, you: Play another round with my master."

As if in a daze, the man's eyes cloud over and sit right back. Another round later Aventurine wins all his losses back and more, leaving the other gambler's side naked and bare of chips. The man is barely out of his stupor when he realizes what just happened— that he's fallen for a trick and now he's ended up with no money to even cover his lodgings— but you and Aventurine have sauntered out of the casino doors by the time he's begun cussing you out.

"Ha! That was fun." Aventurine shrugs off his jacket now that you're in the car and raises an empty champagne glass to you. "You're a good partner, [Y. Name]. Honestly, that Spirit Whisper of yours is such a nice trick. Just like that Stellaron Hunter, right?"

"... Kafka?"

"Yes, her. Enigmatic woman, isn't she? A bit ironic how those with such a powerful ability ended up as slaves. Her as Destiny's, and you as... mine." He gives your collar a little tug and you growl in warning, but you inch closer to him anyway. "So. Gambling. You up for that round?"

You scoff and grin at him with all teeth and no mirth. "You really think that a Cornerstone would bet on their slave's freedom?" Aventurine's own grin grows wider. "C'mon. Even Pteruges-V has better lies than you."

"Ah, right, your homeworld. No wonder you're so brazen all the time, even to your superiors. I forget that fear is a foreign concept to you people. Still," he raises your chin with a finger. "If you're so fearless, why not bet on a gamble? It's not like you're scared."

"There may be fools from my planet that you can trick with that taunt, peacock, but I'm not one of them. I'm fearless, not stupid. And with the way you're so eager to involve me in this bet, I'm beginning to suspect that you need this more than I do." You push him away. "So, no, master, I won't indulge you. I'll bide my time and look for an escape. Just like I've always had."

"And what?" He looks at you from behind his sunglasses. "Will you kill me to gain that freedom?"

You flash him a sharp grin, now amused. "Of course you'd think that, master."

The smile on his face is wiped clean. You really are a brazen thing, you.

Jade has always mentioned how soft Aventurine is on you. A dog of your attitude should merit a little more disciplinary action and even the good Doctor has told him this once or twice after seeing your arrogance despite the collar around your neck. "Your dog bites more than it deserves," Ratio scoffed while you made an action of biting him behind Aventurine. He frowned in displeasure. "You ought to make it learn a lesson or two."

"Now, now, doctor," Aventurine had laughed. "Not everyone shares the same sadistic tendencies as you." An image of you collared and shaking on your knees flashes through his mind, and he finds himself gulping. Ratio looks at him like he doesn't believe him.

It's not like he hasn't thought of it, of chaining you to the wall and starving you so that you learn that your attitude has its consequences. You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, not when he's been so good to you. But that... that was exactly the line of thought his old master had. That wicked man who put a brand on him and sullied his hands with his wretched man... he couldn't risk turning into a monster like... that.

Aventurine is weak. Unable to let go of past sentiments and memories, he makes it up with his grand display of bravado and high-stakes gambles. He gambles even as he spoils you, laughing at your audacity and even rewarding you for it sometimes, not knowing whether you'll leave him or if you'll stay with him. It is a gamble indeed, but you were worth every risk.

"What do you think of me, [Y. Name]?" The cityscape beyond the window is glowing with Pier Point's nightlife, and his suite provides him a good view of the world beneath him. He glances back at you, stirring his coffee for him. "Your dear master Aventurine. What do you think of me?"

"Annoying, stupid, a fool, an addict, and pathetic." You don't hesitate to badmouth your master. "You lie too well, you think that luck of yours will never run out, and you try to be someone that you can't."

"And who is that someone?"

Your eyes flash. "Someone strong. Someone confident. Someone who isn't afraid to admit his weaknesses and hope that things get better."

"I didn't peg you for an optimist, dear pet."

"Hmph. That's not optimism. I may not know what exactly fear is, but I know that what is holding you back isn't it. You do not fear things, gambler. You stake it all and bet on something so intangible as luck. That can't be fear."

"Then what is it?"

The stare you give him sets his heart off, looking straight into his eyes and giving a grin so devilish and knowing like that facade of his never mattered in the first place.

"You're a coward. A plain, old coward. Nothing more, nothing less."

That conversation had always popped up in his head in the most inconvenient of moments, especially when he was about to get some sleep. His heart beat faster every time he recalled that knowing gaze of yours, invading where he didn't want the world to see and baring his soul right before your very eyes. His facade doesn't work on you.

He could care less. You were the one person he didn't want it to work on, though he'd never admit that out loud.

This meeting with the other Ten Cornerstones could not interest him any less, and it seemed to be that way for the others too. Jade is saying something on behalf of Diamond, again, and everyone is busy doing their own thing. Only Topaz seems to be the one paying at least some attention, and even then she gets distracted by Numby from time to time. Aventurine glances at the clock.

He wonders how his pup is faring while he's away. Ecstatic, perhaps.

"— All evidence leads to an underground network that is scattered among numerous planets, though thankfully all of them are within the same galaxy. I'll be forwarding an email to you all with a detailed report on each of these. Just know that most of us will be likely deported to these countries to break up the—" In the middle of Jade's tiresome monologue, the security alarms start to blare and two officers slam through the doors with looks of urgency. One of them scans the room until his eyes land on Aventurine, and they quickly approach him.

"Sir!" They say, desperate and alarmed. "Your do— I mean, slave! They've– They've escaped!"

Surprise streaks across the faces of the Ten Cornerstones, even Aventurine's. He collects himself when he catches Jade's knowing smile and chuckles to himself.

"Well, I guess this is the master's consequence for not disciplining their pet."

Did he really think you were fucking stupid? Taking on a bet for your freedom... what a bunch of bullshit. He can proclaim about how much he loves a fair gamble, but you know that's only reserved for the people around the table. You are his slave, the one he demeaningly calls 'pet'— you don't have the chance to make your own dealings.

"Halt! In the name of Qlipoth, you better stop while we're giving you a chance." These IPC henchmen were slowpokes, the lot of them. You weave in and between salary workers, crashing trolleys full of wares and coffees and hopping between levels just to shake them off their tracks. By golly, they might be incompetent but Aeons damned they were nothing but persistent.

"Ha, the Devil Hunters were more annoying than them," you mutter to yourself, skidding around the corner only to come face-to-face with two IPC henchmen. They raise their polearms to strike, but with a chilling grin stretched across your face, you say: "Hey, you: Jump."

You don't look back to see whether they made the seven-floor drop.

This reminds you of the nights you spent back in Pteruges-V: making fools out of the prissy rich, jumping across buildings to shake of the Hunters, and using whatever you had to make things go your way. Not everyone had Spirit Whisper, but those who had made good use of it and you sure as hell wouldn't miss a single chance to use it.

Your mind runs with plans as you continue to run away. Maybe you'll find a nice ship to stow away on, hopefully, one that leads to a nice planet that isn't so stuffy and rigid. Maybe like Homberto-σ, out of sight from the IPC and where everyone minded their own business.

For what felt like forever trying to shake your followers off, you finally came to a stop when you realized that only the sound of your footsteps could be heard in this labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Finally having shaken them off, you sigh as you climb up the stairs to the rooftop. 'Just jump down and sneak off to the nearest hiding place you can find.' You tug at your collar and scowl. 'When I escape, not even this collar will matter anymore. Not when I'm somewhere they won't reach me.'

You've escaped so many life-or-death situations before. Escaping slavery is no different.

"Slave [Y.Name], subordinate of Cornerstone Aventurine, you are surrounded!" A voice blares through a megaphone the moment you step onto the roof deck. You hiss as multiple glaring lights settle on you, shielding your face from them and the helicopters' onslaught of wind. "Surrender now before we are forced to take extreme measures."

Through the gaps of your fingers, you can barely make out the men in black pointing their guns at your head, the red hot of the laser making you a point-blank target. You click your tongue. Those bastards tricked you into thinking you were safe. Fuck. You couldn't even be mad. This was all on you.

"Oh, little pup. I guess I really should have listened to them when they told me to discipline you." Aventurine's seedy voice sighs behind you, smirking as he nonchalantly strides up to you. "Did you really have to do all this instead of taking the bet? Do you really hate the thought of playing with me, hm?"

"Fuck off."

"No can do, little one, you know how much I'm obsessed with you, right?" He chuckles, catching your chin between his thumb and index and forcing you to look into his eyes. Those Sigonian eyes are covered by the cloudy purple of his glasses, but even you can tell just how much he's enjoying this mess you've put yourself in. "You know I don't have a need for your skill. I could easily persuade anyone without trying, but I still let you stick around. Pup, I can't just back away from you when you know how much I want you."

You smile darkly. "That's cuz you're a sicko who likes tugging on the chain instead of being in it."

Those pretty eyes of his darken for a moment, embittered by the snarky comment at his past, before his hands trail down to your collar, hooking it with a finger and pulling on it. "Dear, while I usually have the patience for your tirades, I'd rather not do it today. You've humiliated me enough in front of the entire Corporation. So—" Pulling once again on your collar, he starts to lead you to the door. "— Let us depart without much hassle, okay?"

Humiliation sears your nerves like a hot metal, a warning growl eliciting from your mouth as he continues to tug you away from the rooftop. Close, you were so fucking close. Here you are breathing in the fresh night wind, a jump away from freedom, but then these IPC idiots all had you fooled. You don't care how many bullets will embed themselves into your skin, all you just needed to do was get away from this grip Aventurine has on you.

You grab the wrist pulling on you, yanking him towards you. His eyes widen before narrowing again, as if not believing that you still had the energy to fight like you don't have red laser points on your forehead. "[Y. Na—"

"Hey, you: S—"

You couldn't even get another syllable out. Your collar beats a few pulses before it starts squeezing your neck, crushing your windpipes and forcing you down on your knees as you choke on your blood. It sears hot around your neck and you collapse writhing on the ground as you sob and gurgle on your screams and congealed blood.

'WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ME—' You can only curse and scream inside your head as you painfully thrash on the cement. '— A BILLION BASTARDS IN THE WORLD AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING ME.'

Darkness is pushing in on you and the pain is making it too hard to go on, but you've always been a fighter. Even if you think that your squirming is pathetic and futile to the onlookers, you continue to tug and pull on the collar like you have a chance. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are too fucking blurry to see with, but the fight doesn't die down.

Aventurine places a soft palm on your hair. Even through the tears stinging your eyes, you can barely make out the faint expression on his face. Damned fucking bastard, damned Signonian, hypocrite and the fucking devil—!

He even has the audacity to look sad for you, as the light slips away from your eyes.

The first round is simple. Play a round of poker with him.

Aventurine hums delightedly as he shuffles the cards with clean and practised movements, looking right at home at the dealer's table he has sitting in his suite. You blankly look at the cards, not even an inch of a reaction from your side. He chuckles as he deals your cards.

"C'mon, look alive, dear." It's almost like he genuinely wants you to cheer up. "Look, I even poured out alcohol for you. It's not everyday that you get to taste Pier Point's most exquisite wine!"

You continue to stare blankly. You haven't given up yet, of course not, but... you can barely bring yourself to move.

When Aventurine is done dealing all the cards, he leans back on his chair and studies his opponent, just like he always has in the past. If you were acting normally, this would have been an easy win. After all, you always wore your heart on your sleeve and abhorred being told to control your emotions. You acted the way you felt— you curse when you anger, you boast when you're feeling smug, and you press your lips together and blush as he praises you for another job well done.

But now. Well. Bandaids cover the seared marks on your neck as well as your head after you've slammed it against the pavement during your delirious fit on the rooftop. Your arms are littered with purples and blues, the aftermath of a disciplinary session that went on throughout the night. Despite the abuse that Aventurine has (rightfully, in his mind) dealt to you, he had made sure to tend to you afterwards.

Settling your head on his lap, combing through the strands as he placed an icepack on your bruises. He hummed you an old children's rhyme from his home planet as you lay limp across the couch. You could barely move, mind unable to process the pain and despair of having an inch of freedom being ripped away from you. He had wiped away the tear that would fall from your eyes.

You couldn't feel comforted at all.

"This will be the first round out of four. Today, we'll make this a bit simple. Five quick rounds of Indian poker. If you're confident that your card is higher than mine, you can bet as much as you like. Not confident? Fold, and that won't count as a round. Loser has the lower card." He raises his glasses to his hair and smiles at you. "Understood?"

"Understood," you grunt. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot."

Aventurine only smirks. It irritates you, but you don't have much fire in you to snap at him.

The room is silent save for the clinking of chips against each other. The two of you cast a chip to the middle of the table. You raise your card to your forehead.

You cast two more chips. Aventurine casts three. You stare at the printed picture on his card and throw in another chip. He throws in another five. You frown.

"Fold."

"Ah~ You should've been more confident in yourself!" Aventurine chuckles as he begins to shuffle the deck to deal another round. You scowl at the Ace of Clubs in your hand, mocking you at your relinquished defeat. "Is a little intimidation all that's needed to make you submit? You weren't this docile before."

"Shut the fuck up and let's play again." He decides to stifle his laugh for the sake of your nerves.

"Raise." Your win, six of hearts to three of spades.

"Raise." Your win, queen of spades to jack of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been Aventurine's, ace of spades to king of spades.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, eight of clubs to six of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been yours, queen of hearts to 10 of clubs.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, nine of clubs to seven of spades.

Aventurine's practiced hands thumb through the cards as he begins to rearrange them again. His glass wine is almost empty, while yours is untouched. The man knows that you don't drink, so why would he...?

"Last round before one of us wins," Aventurine's voice lilts as he throws you your card. "How about we make it exciting? No one is allowed to fold this round." You frown at him but don't say anything. You cast another chip to the table, and he follows suit.

He has a 10 of spades pressed to his forehead, and your fingers dig deep into your skin.

'Oh please, there's other cards higher than a 10.' You remind yourself, but you gulp down your dry throat as your vision zeroes into his card. 'Jack, Queen, King, Ace. Anything. Please.' Aventurine notices your hurried breathing and smiles knowingly. You gulp whatever cowardice is rising in your throat and throw another chip.

"Raise." Fuck it. If this is the last round, then let's just ball.

He cocks his head, finding the motion unnecessary in this last round. But he sighs with a smile and plays along, casting his chips into the fray, "Then I'll raise too."

"This is the last round," you say, more so to remind yourself.

"Yep." He leans forward on the table and the fluorescent lights cast a shadow over those alluring eyes. "Nervous?"

'How could you say that? How could you taunt me like that? When you were just like me?'

You strengthen your resolve and glare up at him, the fire lighting back up in those blank eyes. "I hope you go to hell."

You throw your card to the middle, with the rest of the chips.

Jack of Clubs.

Aventurine cocks his head at you, smiling as usual.

"Congratulations, pet."

One would expect that Pier Point was the peak embodiment of wealth and luxury, being the base of the Interastral Peace Corporation. But the brightly something shone the darker its shadows.

Aventurine just so happened to like those shadows, even shrugging off those fancy clothes of his just so that he could find solace in those sleazy bars and play rounds of poker with dead-eyed salarymen and recently fired hopefuls.

The surroundings didn't fare any better. Amongst the dying neon lights, Pier Point's worst neighborhoods featured a just as nasty environment. Drunkards lying beside dumpsters with shattered beer bottles around them, cats hissing at each other in a fight for survival, and abandoned children peeking at them around the corner as they lay in wait for an opening.

Aventurine has shedded his elaborate peacock coat in favor of a simple white button-down and slacks. Despite the simplicity, he still looked out of place amongst the rags, though it made people think of him as a fearless idiot rather than run away at the sight of the IPC's elite.

"Mmm, that robin is indeed very plump," the blonde idiot remarks out of nowhere. "Quite out of place for this kind of area."

You pay him very little attention, mindlessly kicking the broken half of a bottle with your heel. It bumps into a smelly bastard who shoots you an irritated look, but quickly cowers when you return it tenfold. "Maybe it's been feeding on the leftovers of you prissy IPC folk," you spat, taking a look at the fat robin for yourself.

He takes no notice of the slight towards his kind and instead cocks his head at the cat slinking around the corner. "Well. Its health has attracted a rather unwelcome predator." He turns to you, with a mischievous smile. "How about we make this round two? Who will die first, the cat or the robin?"

Seriously? You were betting your freedom on something as stupid as this? You consider the cat— snarling, insipid thing, balding and thin as a stick— then the robin, tweeting fearfully at its perch on the graffitied wall. "Am betting on the cat. Could eat the fat thing while you go on another gamble."

He laughs, sliding on his shades as he walks into the seedy bar. "Then I have no choice but to bet on the poor robin. Let's have some fun before we see the results of our bet."

The cat is lying on the ground, heaving its last few breaths. Its yellow eyes are barely peeking out from its eyelids, probably delirious and starving in its last moments. You poke it slightly with your foot.

It meows pitifully. You instantly feel bad.

It might just be the ugliest thing you've laid your eyes on, but even the ugliest creatures deserve some sort of companionship in their last moments. It hisses weakly when you draw your hand close, but it can't do anything but relent as you stroke its hairless head. It purrs a bit, ragged and breathy, but the heaving of its ribbed chest slows as it relaxes.

"Don't do that," you murmur. "Just... just be quiet. It's okay."

The quiet steps of leather shoes stop beside you, and Aventurine watches on in silence as you comfort the dying thing. His gaze moves from the cat to the robin, still perched on top of the wall with his fat little chest and beady eyes. It hasn't moved from its position at all, just... staring and staring.

"So—"

"I know," you murmur, focus still on the poor thing. "I know, okay?"

The fat robin chirps again, tittering with its mocking chirp, before it flies away into the sky.

Your cat closes its eyes shut, and its skinny chest finally slows to a stop.

Aventurine stays with you for a while as you find a nice spot of earth to bury it.

No matter how much you want to believe your preconceived image of the blonde gambler— irresponsible, materialistic, money-wasting— you can't just make up lies about him in your head when all of his missions end on a win for him. Right now, he's heading for another mission in a galaxy far away again. And like always, he's dragged you along whether you like it or not.

"Come on, you like sightseeing other planets!" He laughs on the space warp going there. "Makes your blood pumping, scouting out the possible planets you can run away to."

"If I can run away," you grumble, not wanting to acknowledge him as you stare out the window and into the starry expanse of galaxies and space. This sight has always unnerved you— a reminder of how small and insignificant you are. How small and insignificant this collar hand on your life.

"It's not like you to be such a downer," he huffs. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Come, come. Drink with me. Ah, but no alcohol though. Don't want you trying to bite my entourage as soon as we get off." He's referring to the time that you had two sips of the lightest alcohol the ship had in stock before you absolutely wasted and decided that running away to the next planet was a good idea.

You grunt but sit on the floor next to his feet. He doesn't dare to correct you but only regards you with amusement before handing you a glass of sparkling water. You've always had this weird insistence of maintaining your master-slave status quo, despite abhorring your status as a slave. You followed his commands to the tee no matter how dangerous but refused to budge whenever he insisted on treating you like an equal.

"Don't get me wrong," you had snapped at him angrily one time. "As long as I'm in this stupid collar, I am not your fucking equal. So don't go around treatin' me like one, got it?!"

"You got the briefing, right? I'll be dismantling an underground operation on our next planet, so I'll be making good use of your Spirit Whisper." You sip your drink and make no reaction. "I'm sure you have no complaints about that, right?"

"Like I have a fuckin' choice."

He laughs into his cocktail. "Right. How could I forget?" Your eyes narrow into slits when he threads his thin fingers through your hair, but you don't make any move to remove them. "Unfortunately, this isn't an operation that I can just charm and gamble my way through, so you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting. But so long as I have you, my dearest pet, I'm sure we'll be done before we know it."

You fight the urge to give into his tender touch, massaging your scalp as he combs your strands, though your eyelids are drooping now. He chuckles fondly when you rest your chin on the sofa, right next to his thigh. Adorable, how easily you succumb to the smallest of physical affection.

"Just take a nap," he hums. "We'll be there before you know it."

Aventurine's lavish outfit is a stark contrast against the nitty and gritty environment of the gambling den the two of you are staking out right now. Some of the men leer at him when he passes by, their faces painted by sweat and malice, and the promiscuous women bat their eyes at him with painted-on sweet smiles. No one bats an eye at the collared servant trailing behind him.

You try not to wince as you accidentally make eye contact with another slave, them kneeling on the ground with only rags to cover them and you have the luxury to look away as you grip the sleeves of your ironed button-down. You decide to just fix your eyes on Aventurine's back for the rest of the journey.

The next room you enter— less room to be honest, and more... coliseum-y— features a fighting ring where the crowd cheers on two dogs circling each other under the fluorescent spotlights. The other one, bigger and scarred, is baring his teeth while bearing a deep red gash across his body. The smaller one is shivering but giving the same energy back, snarling in intimidation while also sporting a noticeable limp. Despite the darkness of the room, you don't miss the way Aventurine's face contorts into disgust as he looks at the fight and surveys the crowd of spectators.

"Disgusting," he murmurs. You don't say anything back, though you doubt he could hear you amidst all this cheering. You used to bet on dogs too, back in the day. It was quick and easy money, and you had better things to worry about than the fate of some mutt.

While you're focused on the pathetic dog show in front of you, he steps to your side and nudges you with his elbow. "Willing to bet?" He asks, eyes focused on the show. "As our third round."

"From the look on your face, I thought you hated this kind of thing."

"I do, but I'm not putting money in the pot like the rest of them. This is strictly between you and me with no money involved." He turns his gaze to you. "So, what about it?"

You study the dogs. They've been circling each other for a while now, and the crowd's been growing more and more agitated by the lack of fighting. You think of the dogs you've bet on before, how the smaller ones had just an equal chance of success at winning as the bigger ones. Unconsciously, you tug at your collar. It matches perfectly with the stupid dogs down below.

"Bet," you huff. "I'm taking the smaller one."

You don't know why. It'd make sense to just bet on the bigger and badder, but maybe it's that ferocity in his eyes even if it's overshadowed by the growling menace that has you feeling for it. It's stupid, you know, betting your freedom on a hunch and emotions. But...

If it could have a chance at winning... then why can't you?

...

... Are you destined to die, just like it?

... Are you destined to die as a slave for another IPC slave?

... Will your death be just as morbid and pathetic as the mongrel, his innards spilling onto the pavement while the winner is pulled away by the collar, with no prize but another day of freedom?

This is round three out of four. You've only won one so far.

The very next round could kill you. Could completely sign away your freedom.

Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd you have to go feeling sorry for the stupid shit? Why'd you have to empathize with its futile fight? Why'd you have to go see yourself in it? Now you could very much share its fate, dying pathetically serving for people who never cared about you in the first place.

Shit shit shit shit shit. The pressure of the bet has always been at the back of your mind, niggling at your brain. But now you can feel its heavy weight squeezing around your heart, in perfect rhythm with the phantom choking of your collar. If you don't win the next, you could very much—

Something light touches your shoulder and you lurch back like you had been stricken there. It disgusts and scares you, sending both repulsion and fear through your body like maggots wriggling into your system.

With a faltering outstretched palm, Aventurine's eyes widen behind his glasses. He sees something on your face, enough to make him bite down whatever cocky shit he has to say, and turns his back towards you.

"Let's go," he says, just barely audible above the crowd. "We still have a mission to complete.

"This is some silly joke of yours, isn't it?" Aventurine maintains his cool facade, but even then there is disgust in his tone as he speaks to Jade. "Giving a slave to another... you must think this is hilarious."

"Amusing, maybe, but this little one is too precious to let loose in the wild." Jade strokes your head, and while you curse in warning, you don't move to attack. "A user of Spirit Whisper, a rarity even among those in Pteruges-V. Don't you think it'd be better if they served the Amber Lord rather than going back to their pretty crimes?"

"Then give them to someone else." Aventurine turns his back on you and Jade. "Since when did I need help closing a deal?"

"Well, I just thought that you were lonely."

"And you think gifting me a slave of all things would help me?"

"Oh, just give them a chance. I'm sure you'll like this one. Look." Jade raises your chin with a finger, lifting your bruised face to the light. You shoot her a glare, plotting murder in your head, but you don't try to fight back. You might have tried once, probably, and learned your lesson. "Don't you love the fire in their eyes, even after being collared and brutally beaten?"

It is sick. It is sick how Jade can just easily muse about your past abuse to his face. To him. It is sick how the IPC thinks that Aventurine would even be happy about this... gift, let alone accept it.

"I appreciate the... thought." Jade smiles at the barely held back distaste in his voice. "But I'd really rather not."

"Oh, I see..." Jade hums, tilting her head to scrutinize you. "But no one else will accept you since you're too feisty for their liking. So I guess..."

"We'll just have to kill you."

Your face pales. Aventurine has never been quick to turn around.

"Fine. I'll accept," he says with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "I'll accept your gift, so just..." He sighs, massaging his temples and waving Jade off. "Go away and let us be."

"Is this some sort of savior complex you have going on?" Despite being a slave, you haven't really learned how to hold that spiteful tongue of yours. Half of the fault lies with Aventurine, seeing how he's never bothered to scold you for it. He looks away from the reports in his hand and smiles at you.

"Oh, whatever do you mean, my dear pup?" Your bitter scowl is pushed down even further at his sweet tone and you scoff.

"I mean," you say, gesturing all around you. "You never scold me, you give me good food, you do all these nice things for me. You don't beat and lash at me like others do. Are you feeling sorry? As one slave to another?"

"Personally, I've never heard of a slave complain about treating this well."

"It's weird." You frown. "It's weird and creepy. All these niceties yet I can tell that you don't even mean half of 'em. Your heart isn't in it. You're just doing it for the sake of being nice. So I don't get it." You cross your arms and lean on the couch, deep in thought. "If you don't even mean it, why even bother?"

Aventurine hums, studying your silent and pondering figure before returning to his papers. You don't follow up your complaints with anything else, and the two of you are left to stew in the silence.

... Why even bother indeed?

"Last round and you only have one win, pup." His sickly sweet voice croons, tapping his perfect nails on the table as he watches your expression. "Are you excited?"

Normally you'd bite back, but today you thickly swallow. The looming sense of doom continues to hammer into the back of your skull, spiking your nerves with every beat and shaking your senses. You can barely feel your fingers. You can barely feel except for the fear coiling around your heart.

"... Yes." You can't even barely say a syllable.

Through the rushing blood of your ears, you can barely make out the sound of your master rummaging through something. Something metallic clicks into place and he slides it to the center of the table. You will yourself to look up—

A shiny revolver lies on the table.

A surprised cry elicits from your mouth and you jolt back. The sight of a weapon is enough to startle your poor nerves now and even more so the expectant look glinting in Aventurine's eyes. He smirks and leans forward.

"How about I make an offer you can't refuse?" Not that you were in a position to do so. "Since this is the fourth round, how about we go all in?"

"Russian Roulette. Whoever wins stays alive—"

—And the other lays dead in a puddle of their own blood.

It goes unsaid, but the moment you locked eyes with Aventurine, it was clear that the both of you were thinking of the same thing. You could ponder upon why the Aventurine would stake his own life over something so trivial as your freedom, but you aren't thinking anymore. All you want is your freedom. All you want is to get away.

You don't think further as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the gun and press it to your temple. You pull the trigger. Only a clean click follows, the chamber changing cases. You slide the gun over to him.

He calmly picks it up and slots it to his temple too. "Why are you so desperate to get away from me, pup?" He cocks his head. "I would give you everything you ask for, should you just ask. I treat you with care and as a friend. Is being with me so bad you'd put your life on the line for your freedom?"

He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He slides it over to you.

"Even if you go back to your old life, what would be the point? You'll go back to stealing whatever you can off nobles, treating your fellow street rats like fools and pawns before dashing off to your next victim. Would that give you happiness? Fulfillment? Is that the life you prefer instead of being next to me?"

"Sh... Shut up." You sound drained, but he presses on.

"You can have it all, in the price of a collar. Does it not sound good enough to you?"

'Why... Why of all people is he...'

"Do you really hate being owned by me?"

"Why are you..." You choke on your words, grip around the handle trembling. "Why are you saying those things?"

Aventurine has never seen you cry. Not once. Not even when he had to punish you for running away. You could be weak and beaten, but you never willingly cried. But now...

He raises a hand to cover his smile.

"I thought... I thought you of all people would understand." Tears drop to your lap and your hand lowers the gun from your temple. "The pain, the humiliation of being a slave, of being owned. It doesn't matter how nice you are to me. I just want to be free. Shouldn't that be enough?"

Silence overtakes the room as Aventurine takes in the unfamiliar sight before him. Here you were, his greatest treasure, the most vulnerable than you ever were. Sobbing and weeping with a gun in hand, the pressure of the bet finally getting to you.

He moves. "... So this is it? For your pride?"

You wince, looking at him in betrayal. "You... I thought you of all people would at least understand..." You stay silent, the words forming on your tongue but too afraid to sound them out. Then your expression twists into anger, then resolute determination, before you wipe away your tears and glare at him like you always did. "I was wrong. You're scum. Just like the rest of 'em."

The moment the head of the gun points at his head, the collar clamps down and chokes you till your throat cracks and bleeds. The current of electricity crackling your nerves is just as painful and torturous as last time, but you grit your bloodied teeth and press the gun further.

Aventurine looks dazed, staring up into your bloodied face. If you weren't in such agonizing pain you would have laughed at how stupid he looks.

"[Y. Name]..."

"I hope you go to hell," you hiss through the bloody pain. "And I hope that when I get there, I'll never have to fucking see you again."

You pull the trigger to that beautiful face of his, but nothing happens once again. Fuck. It falls to the ground as the pain overwhelms you and you finally stagger. It lays among the specks of blood on the carpet, along with its empty... case...

Your eyes flick to Aventurine, still caught off guard and staring at you with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out to your convulsing body and cradles your head. "[Y. Name]..." He says, still sounding dazed. "Why would you..."

"Fuckin'... coward..." You grit out. "I was right... from the very start..."

Aventurine watches as you succumb to the pain and collapse in his arms. Despite being unconscious, the collar continues to shock and choke you, and more and more blood spouts from the side of your mouth and into the carpet. He tries to wipe it, despite it continuing like a fountain, before giving up and stroking your hair as the pain continues to intrude on you in your sleep.

"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. "You know it as well as me." He presses a kiss onto the other.

"You were never a bet I was willing to wager."

#yandere honkai star rail #yandere aventurine #yandere hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr aventurine #yandere x reader #yester.writes

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