celeste ⋆

Instead, she’d looked over at you. For eight entire seconds. That was it. No touching. No flirting. No epic love confession. Just Ellie watching you ramble about a fictional cult while looking suspiciously fond of the fact that you were rambling at all.

The clip spread through both fandoms within a day.

By the end of the week, people were slowing it down, zooming in, drawing circles around her face, and making compilations with titles like “Ellie Williams forgetting she’s on camera for six minutes straight.”

You’d laughed so hard the first time you saw one that you nearly fell out of your chair. Ellie had not found it nearly as funny.

“They’re insane.”

You could hear the irritation in her voice even through the Discord call.

“They’ve been insane for years.” you snort, leaning back in your chair.

“No, this is a different kind of insane.”

You grinned at your monitor. “Why are you suddenly so upset about this?”

There was a pause. “I may have watched a few compilations… for context.”

“Ellie Williams, you know better than to subscribe to fan conspiracies about you” you berate, feigning exaggerated astonishment.

“Stop— I needed to know what people were saying.” She says quickly.

You laughed, and her response came as a muffled groan into what you assumed was a pillow. It was endearing when she got like this—and maybe you liked teasing her just to hear her voice go all high-pitched and indignant.

“So d’you watch edits of yourself too?”

The silence that followed was answer enough.

“Hmff, as if.”

—

The truth was that neither of you had expected the shipping to get this bad.

People had always paired streamers together. It happened constantly. Spend enough time collaborating with someone and eventually a fan would make a compilation titled proof they’re secretly dating. Usually it died out after a few weeks. This one hadn’t.

If anything, it seemed to be getting worse. Every interaction between you became evidence. Every inside joke, every glance, every time one of you joined the other’s stream unexpectedly.

The audience treated it like an ongoing investigation. Unfortunately, neither of you were helping.

Especially not Ellie.

The problem with Ellie was that she genuinely liked being around you. It wasn’t in a calculated content-creator way, or in a way designed to generate clips for engagement either. She would never do something like that.

She just… liked you. Really liked you.

Which meant she was always there. She’d show up in your streams without saying anything, slipping into frame like she’d been invited, when in truth, you didn’t even know she was in the area. Games you only mentioned in passing somehow ended up in her library before the conversation even moved on.

And at two in the morning, she’d still find you. Something funny would catch her attention and, seconds later, your phone would light up—memes, videos, always tagged, always with you in mind.

She couldn’t help herself. Part of her drifted along in blissful ignorance, too caught up in you to care what anyone else might think. Another part of her was more aware than she liked to admit — selfish enough to let it happen anyway. You didn’t belong to her, of course. But she’d be lying if she said it didn’t feel good when people assumed you were together and backed off.

The audience noticed all of it. You noticed most of it too, though you tried not to think about it, you really did. It was easier to assume it didn’t mean anything than to let yourself read into it and get your hopes up.

But there were only so many times a person could hear ten thousand strangers insist that girl clearly has a crush on you before some small part of their brain started wondering if there might be any truth to it.

The same thing happened in reverse. Because If people loved teasing Ellie, they absolutely adored teasing you. Especially whenever she was around — comments would start the moment she came on stream.

elliesimaginarygf: LOOK WHOS BLUSHING

isaythingsfor20bucks: AHSHAJSHG

thirdwheelinchat: This is like the tenth time she’s fixed her hair

theyrebasicallydatingtrust: Lmao that’s the fasted I’ve ever seen someone lock in

parasocialandproud: I feel like I’m interrupting something…

elliesunpaidtherapist: okay so stop eye fucking, there are kids in chat

the8secondclipgay: I think they did it but I just can’t prove ittt

imwithellie_8: ellie if u don’t make a move soon i will

my_reason_2_stay: stop cause they’re actually so cute

There was no escaping it, and the uncertainty of not knowing was starting to weigh on you more than you wanted to admit.

One evening, you were halfway through a stream when your phone lit up on the desk beside you, vibrating softly. The notification flashed across the screen before fading to the Lock Screen preview. You looked down immediately, there was only one person allowed to bypass dnd, and it was the auburn haired girl herself.

Nothing important, just a blurry photo from Ellie’s shitty phone camera of Joel and Tommy not at each others throats for once, playing guitar together with the caption: watching ur stream rn, wish I was there to beat your ass but I’m stuck with these old farts :(

You couldn’t help the familiar smile that tugged at your lips whenever ellie williams was involved. She’d gone to visit the farm, something about Joel complaining she’d abandoned them now that she was a “big city streamer.” It had only been a week, but god, you missed her. The apartment felt strangely empty without her constantly “stopping by” to bother you. Was your heart supposed to ache this much just because your friend had gone to visit her family? Probably not.

The chat caught onto it immediately, and within seconds your screen was flooded.

justobservinglol: guys it’s her gf texting her

elliesbootycheeks: awww look at how she’s smiling it’s definitely ellie

Fingermetimbers: tell her to come back we miss her

logoffplease: they are 100% dating I swear

truthviapaypal: okay but she’s literally getting shot rn

thirdwheelinchat: TELL ELLIE I SAID HII

brothatsaclip: can we pls respect their privacy like-

elliescanonloveinterest: wedding stream when?

You didn’t even need to read the messages to know what they were about, and you tried not too. It was easier that way, you could pretend it wasn’t happening, they were just jokes, just chat being chat.

The worst part is they weren’t entirely wrong. They were right, actually. Spot on. You liked Ellie. You’d known it for a while. You weren’t stupid.

She was funny and clever and infuriatingly easy to talk to. She understood your world in a way most people didn’t, conversations with her never felt like work. Hours would disappear without either of you noticing, it was just you and her.

Somewhere along the way, the line between friendship and something more had started to blur. You just hadn’t done anything about it. As far as you knew, neither had she.

Which was why the next stream ended up being significantly more embarrassing than it should have been.

The two of you were playing a casual game together while chatting with your audiences. No huge event, just one of those comfortable streams where conversation wandered naturally from topic to topic.

“My initials are literally ew, I’ve actually just been set up for failure”

You stifle a laugh, shaking your head “that’s also what most people say when they see you”

There’s a beat of silence before she reacts.

“wow— actually, fuck off. Do you guys see how mean she is to me?”

ellie1ovesu: lmaoooo

elliesfuturewife: got em

marrymeellie: 😭😭😭

Fingermetimbers: ellie she clocked your ass

brothatsaclip: uh oh the parents are fighting

totallynormalviewer: nooooo I would never say that

readthisor69else: lowkey kinda mean😬

You smile, covering your mouth to hide it and leaning into your seat. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding.”

You cut it off before she can spiral into theatrics, the way she always does when she’s got an audience.

“Actually not fair,” she continues anyway. “I literally can’t even insult you because I can’t think of anything bad.”

brothatsaclip: awwwwww

marrymeellie: she’s so down bad chat

6767_eli: submissive as hell

platonicallyconcerned: I’m so jealous rn

elliesfuturewife: she’s so obviously in love with her like don’t play

At some point, somebody donated specifically to ask Ellie about the shipping. Not unusual, people who didn’t know how to mind their business did that constantly.

Ellie read the message and immediately rolled her eyes. “Chat seriously?”

You knew that tone. “What is it this time?”

You heard her adjust her headset before sighing. “They want to know if we’re secretly married.”

You snorted. “If we are, that’s news to me— I don’t see a ring.” You held your hand up to the camera, wiggling your empty fingers for emphasis.

“No, we are not secretly married, guys,” you clarify, a little more serious now.

realelliehours_247: yeah right

ellieclips: sureeee whatever you say wink wink

plsnoticeme: yeah guys they’re “not married”

imwithellie_8: I mean she could’ve just taken it off before stream

youignoredme: actually they are married I was the minister

ellieandyou4ever: so who proposed first?

altacc: okay maybe not married but definitely dating

“Chat” you groan, dragging a hand over your face. “Oh my god— do I need to say it louder?”

Ellie’s laugh crackles through your headset. “pfft I don’t think volume is the issue.”

Unfortunately, she was right. You’d both denied it plenty of times, but nobody believed you. In fact, every denial only seemed to make people more convinced. And you especially hated talking about it in front of Ellie, because it never felt like you were just shutting chat down, it felt like you were shutting something between you down.

Ellie skimmed another message and huffed into the mic. They were too much even for the mods—you just had to accept it.

imstillhere: please just kiss alreadyy

sunshinegirl1: you can cliterally cut the tension with a knife

no1shipper: my fave slow burn friends to lovers

You nearly choked when she started reading them out loud.

“Ellie.”

“What?” She asked innocently, like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

“Stop reading them.”

“They paid money.” she shrugs “jus’ doing my job princess”

yurilovr: GUYS

isaythingsfor20bucks: ITS HAPPENING!! 😻

elliewtf: “princess” no fuckibg way

werallgay: okay she’s doing it on purpose now

imwithellie_8: girl since when

parasocialandproud: HDJAHSVDHAIHDJH

my_reason_2_stay: SINCE WHEN DID ELLIE LEARN HOW TO FLIRT??

plsnoticeme: omgomgomgomg

theyrebasicallydatingtrust: someone check in on my girl guys

111dana: she’s so red omfg😭

You rub a hand over your face, trying not to look as flustered as you actually, are on live, with hundreds of people watching. It definitely isn’t the first time Ellie’s called you a pet name, but it’s the first time she’s done it on stream. All you can do is ignore the chat and try to move on.

“I would honestly give the money back.”

That only made her laugh harder. Eventually, the conversation settled as you got more into the game—a relief, finally—but you were already bracing yourself for whatever edits would come out of it later.

while waiting in a matchmaking queue, Ellie went unusually quiet. The silence stretched just long enough to become noticeable. Long enough that you glanced toward her stream preview on your second monitor. She staring at her chat. Of course.

“Els, you good?” you question.

“Huh? Oh– yeah,” There’s a small pause where you wait for her to continue. “Just adjusting these settings.”

no1shipper: lol she was asking her chat if u were blushing😭

elarchive: I swear she is not slick

imwithellie_8: she wanted to know if you got flustered girl

438_ll: LMAOO they’re telling on you

plsnoticeme: she’s lyyying

you’re reading chat when the abrupt sound of her laughter pulls your focus back.

“Y’know what’s funny?”

“hm? Tell me.”

“They genuinely think one of us is going to confess our love on stream.”

Your stomach drops slightly. You react too quickly to it, too aware of why. You force a laugh. “I think you guys watch way too many movies.”

“Probably.”

Neither of you said anything after that. For a moment, all you could hear was the game’s menu music.

The matchmaking queue popped at the perfect moment. Both of you latch onto it immediately. The subject vanished. The game continued, and the stream ended a few hours later. Nothing happened. No confession. No dramatic reveal.

But that night, lying in bed with your phone balanced on your chest, you’re watching Ellie’s vod from the same stream when your phone pings. Her name flashes across the screen. You click the notification immediately.

confessing on stream would be wild, huh?

come unlock the door, I’m outside.

Perhaps, even, the smell of iron could cease if the scraps of her were offered. Maybe she carried the traces with her–within her?–and the overwhelming tackiness of it all was what her existence was rooted in. Root her body to the ground, then–fine, have me–and return her gristle and bone to the Earth. Would even then, in death, she be rejected? Were her insides too much, too little? 

If she were to be cut open, would she appear as a conventional girl? Or, even at her very core, would there be something awry? 

There is an unfortunate calm that is intertwined with the idea of presenting oneself to the bugs. A final offering as though all others had been rejected. A mutual affair, as they would provide Ellie with a much needed service, as well. Not beautification, just finally bleached. Stripped of anything deformed and everything that had gone wrong–inside and out. 

Though–maybe not even the bugs would want her. Ellie Williams is hard to keep, after all. 

At thirteen, she had met a soldier due to his decision to act on his own concern for Ellie… but it had been fleeting. Ellie came with risks. Something was sure to be fundamentally wrong with her. Like there were warning signs etched into her skin along with her freckles. Maybe that’s why her skin always hurts. Not worth the risk. A cautionary tale within the green of her eyes. Warning: Abandon before she infects you, too. Death follows! 

I’ll be fine on my own, Ellie had said.

Whether or not that statement was a lie, she didn’t know. Was she fine on her own? Physically, mostly. Mentally? No. Ellie craves. Ellie misses, and Ellie gets attached. Ellie feels. 

She doesn’t like to be lectured about her inability to speak–not after. After her body had been held down by strangers, her voice raw from pleading for a life (his life, never her own. Never her own), how could her vocal cords possibly work? And how frustrating it was to be dismissed. As if her silence were easy? Most could not even begin to grasp the concept of how exhausting it is to deliberately prevent her feelings from being verbalized. Silence is not easy. Silence is never easy. 

But sometimes, silence is taught. And another thing about Ellie? She clings. 

And yes, the bugs could not be faulted for the potential rejection, either. Who is Ellie to depend on their aid in her own personal purification process? Maybe she would poison the bugs, too. Maybe her insides were wrong. With the bugs and the woods as her only witnesses, she could fade. No family to watch in horror, no lover to cry. Just the Earth–hopefully–claiming her and correcting what it must. 

The cycle of things, really. Please let the bugs have her. Let her body be useful, just this once. 

Ellie Williams hunts with a wince. 

These days, at least. 

It’s not like she struggles with the concept–never really did. She held no impending need to shift into the mindset of a predator. It was just one of those things. You need food–you hunt. All that blood on her hands might’ve felt different if the world were another… but Ellie knew how these things worked from quite a young age. 

She is not powerful for killing a rabbit, she is simply in need of food. The rabbit’s existence is not weak for being small, but it is food. The act of hunting is not empowering, it is just a necessity. Others may beg to differ, but Ellie does not. Ellie was once a Little Rabbit, hunted and preyed upon. She does not get a thrill from preying. There is no thrill to be had. Only the promise of a full belly, which she often cannot stomach anyway. 

Strip everything else away, bare bones – Ellie has never much minded hunting. But sometimes, these days, she does wince. 

Sometimes, the dull, fading light of life is able to transport Ellie before she can even grasp what is happening. Her body in one place, her mind in another. Maybe the bugs could do away with whatever part of her kept prompting that to happen. 

It’s just that death is never a pleasant thing to look at… and Ellie was supposed to die more times than she had felt physically or mentally renewed within her life. At this rate, she was subjected to living–to breathing each day, eyes fully functioning, aware of each loss that weighed her every step. Ellie thought that her purpose was to provide others with pieces of herself to ensure survival. Instead, she had become Death’s witness. 

As long as no one had to witness her own. 

Company in life, solitude in death. Was that even what she actually wanted? Ellie didn’t like to be lonely. 

She had been, before. The concept scared her, made her feel afraid enough to cause her erring insides to twist uncomfortably. It translated. Yeah, skin hurting. Short bursts of air, limbs that trembled–and then hands that only ever seemed to move with the utmost amount of care. 

It must be nasty work to root Ellie’s feet into the ground and pull her attention to right now, where it’s real–but you do it. You do it with ease, and you do not shout at her, and your touch does not cause her to flinch. She reaches for it, even, just as you reach for her. 

Ellie no longer wants faith through pain. Her own faith is found each day, each night, with a bed that is never cold. A bath that never feels lonely. A meal that is plated and then saved–like her soul?–because it is okay if sometimes she is not hungry, there’s always tomorrow and she will be okay and she can try again later. Her faith is found within the voice that never falters–the tone in which you speak to her is able to pierce through any scream, no matter the frequency, and no matter the memory. 

You are the steady, warm reason behind the adjustment of Ellie’s posture. Straightened shoulders, because she does not always have to slump under the burden of her own existence. You are quite fond of her existence, so you say. 

The smell of iron fades. Slowly, but it does. She can remember it, but Ellie doesn’t inhale it every time that she breathes. The smell of your hair outweighs the impact of bleach. 

Bleach strips, but you renew. You restore. 

Ellie might just bloom from the inside out, because the crinkle of your eyes does away with the rot of her soul. Probably better than any bugs could, no offense to the bugs. But you do not erode her, like the bugs would do. You do not chip away at her, or gnaw, or push. You hold. You adjust. You cradle her heart in your hands like it’s a baby bird—something that needs nourishing. Your unwavering adoration is able to filter through her cracks like sunlight through blinds.

You have witnessed Ellie in every possible state that a human being could be in, and you still press your lips to the tip of her nose. Your fingers still reach for her own. The words I love you spill out easier than your thoughts on the weather. Ellie doesn’t much like to think about whether or not she deserves things, as it’s a slippery slope that she does not have the stability to navigate… but you are so steadfast in your ways that Ellie can’t help but question it. 

They are less frequent now, but they still happen–the moments in which trembling overtakes Ellie’s body, and images appear in her mind like the rapid flickering of a flashlight. When her heart beats too fast for her chest, and when she chokes and gags on each breath–maybe it’s the iron again, or the guilt of breathing when so many can no longer do that very thing. During those moments, your hands soothe over her arms like it’s easy. Your voice is soft–you love her–yet firm–please hear me–and you do not startle her. In fact, Ellie reaches back. Skin against skin, you ground her. Voice in her ears, she exists and that is okay. 

If the world were different, Ellie always thought that she would want to be an astronaut. She read countless books, her mind taking inventory and storing away every fascinating piece of information that it possibly could. The idea of going to space was enthralling to her. The idea of being in space did not correlate with her fear of being alone. Space would be calm, peaceful. On her own terms–and she would return. Ellie is the type of person to return. But when you are the one being left behind, you cannot make the other person come back for you. Ellie has been left–therefore, she returns. 

Ellie cannot go to space, but her devotion toward the topic is able to be translated to you–how much she appreciates your constant presence, and your ability to be unwavering, even in the dark. When Ellie is unable to get a grip, you manage to cause her universe to narrow down. You treat her as though she were astriferous. You trace the constellations on her skin with a gentle touch. Ellie searches your eyes like she’s studying a newfound planet. Ellie cannot go to space, but even so, you stellify her. 

Sometimes, Ellie cannot speak. You repeat your words–I love you, I love you, I love you–because you know that she needs them. Always, she wishes to be as present as you in her moments of panic. Sometimes, all she can offer back is a shaky hand gripping at your arm–I love you, too. 

When harsh crescents appear in the palms of Ellie’s hands, you are there to unfurl her fists. Her hands are stained with blood that are only visible to her own eyes, and you kiss them. Again, Ellie prefers not to get into the internal debate about whether or not she deserves something. You seem to think that she does deserve it, and that is enough. 

You never take her silence as an indication of straying. If hunting makes her wince, and she nearly vomits up memories, you do not question if Ellie hugs with one arm rather than two. She will spend the rest of her life hoping that you know how much it means to her, even if she is unable to properly verbalize it. 

It is almost uncomfortable, the lack of something within Ellie as her days grow steadier–along with her mind–and the guilt starts to ease. For a time, Ellie confused her growing lightness with feelings of emptiness. She had thought that she had finally grown numb, because she didn’t feel as though her body was bearing such a heavy weight. The realization was quiet. Lightness does not mean emptiness. Ellie can breathe. She would refuse to make you witness her death, but there will be no death to witness, anyway. Ellie has no plans for it. 

Even so, it has been drilled into her very being that everything is fleeting. People do not stick around, it does not matter how much you love them. Or want them. Or need them. The very start of Ellie’s life was tainted by the death of another. Loss is nearly all that she had ever known, yet she cannot grow comfortable with the idea of it in any sense. 

Ellie figures she will probably lose you at some point. It is not self-deprecating, it is fact. (To her, at least.) If she is going to lose you, she will spend every possible day making sure that you are safe and comfortable while you sleep. She will return each squeeze of your hand. A touch will never be unwanted, or underappreciated. You have shown Ellie resilience through love, making her a fern in the way that she has been able to continue, continue, continue. 

The iron filled her up, flooded her, but is not with her presently. She is present. You are present. Ellie exists presently as often as she can manage it, which increases with each rise of the sun. There is no taste for blood, no faith within it any longer. 

(Ellie will not end up losing you. You know that fact, even when her fears cause a falter within her. You are staying, and Ellie stays, and your world is lighter but not empty. Ellie does not lose you, and you do not lose her.)

notes : i love ellie williams. obviously i have been quite inspired by noah kahan's album lately, this is no exception. i found the overall theme/message of orbiter to be really achingly beautiful and it got me thinking about ellie and her relationship with loss. i know i've done space themed fics before with lunar flyby and reporting live but i didn't want to repeat that here despite the title of this piece and the song, i felt it would've been a bit too on the nose. still, i thought ellie's love for space could suit this and be intertwined with the other themes. as always, thank you for reading.