#she just wants other people to enjoy these stories like she enjoys them

[ipushhimback]

wife, actually

pairing: lando norris x reader warnings: none, this is pure fluff words: 600

summary: who would have guessed why lando hasn’t been active on social media the entire off season…

It was the first interview Lando gave in 2025. Over the off season he hadn’t been active on social media at all, and the fans already started to be confused.

„So, Lando. What do you wish for this season?“

„Well of course winning the WDC this year. I got really close last year and was really sad and mad at myself when i didn’t make it.“ Lando looked around the room that was full of reporters and fans. 

But then his eyes found you. He smiled at you which made his eyes glow.

„But you were still really focused in the last races. Managed finishing P1 in Abu Dhabi which secure you the win of the WCC for McLaren in over two decades. How did you do that?“, the reporter asked. 

„I just focused on not letting the team down and it helped to be around people who are important to me and helped me stay focused and not get distracted by being mad at myself for not winning the driver‘s championship.“

The reporter nodded.

„So your girlfriend was with you the whole time? Was she the one who helped you?“

Lando grinned even more when he looked at you and saw you giving a small nod.

„Wife, actually. We got married during off season. That’s why we weren’t active on social media over the last couple months. We just wanted to spend some time together and enjoy being a married couple. But to answer your question, yes. She was the person who was there for me and made sure i didn’t lose focus or freak out.“

You smiled at Lando. You both hadn’t exactly planned on telling everyone yet that you were married but this was the perfect situation for Lando. He just had to tell everyone that you were now officially his wife. That you were now carrying his last name.

“Oh? That’s great! Congratulations! When did you propose to her? I can’t believe the fans didn’t notice”, the reporter asked surprised.

“Well actually it was during off season but we didn’t want to wait any longer so when we were drunk we flew to Vegas and well… we came home married”, Lando laughed nervously. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic story to tell but he didn’t really care. It was his and his wife’s story which made it extremely special.

“Well. Again, congratulations you two.”

Lando was asked a couple more questions before being able to leave and go to his wife.

“I thought you didn’t want to tell everyone yet?”, you teased Lando as he ran towards you.

“Well, he said you were my girlfriend. I just had to correct him, didn’t I?” Your husband leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

“You really didn’t have to tell them we got married in Vegas… it is embarrassing.” You buried your face in Lando’s chest.

“No, baby. It is not embarrassing. It is cute! It just means we love each other so much we couldn’t wait to be married. You are now Mrs. Lando Norris. Isn’t that cool.” Lando looked at you with that wide grin that made you fall in love with him when you first saw him.

“It is. I am the luckiest woman in the world thanks to that.” You grinned back at him and got on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“And also we will soon have to tell that story to our little one, right?” Lando placed his hands on your belly.

“Yes. I guess we will”, you said smiling. “I still want that wedding party though. I really wanna wear a white dress and have cake. A big cake.”

A/N: I am sick so you only get a small fic today <3 thanks for liking my stuff

taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r

[arcanewhoosh]

hiii how are you? I hope ur doing well!

I dont know if your requests are open or not so if they aren’t feel free to just ignore this :)

i was wondering if you could write a jinx X female reader (if not female gn is totally alright whatever you’re comfortable with) a soulmate au with jinx where it’s the reader who goes to the alternative universe instead of ekko, but instead of just going to one universe, the reader ends up going to multiple ones. she/they find out that jinx is her/their partner in every universe, in every timeline, in every possibility, making them soulmates.

I actually made a post about this idea, asking if anyone could write it, but I also wanted to ask you as well because I just adore your writing so so sooo much. I could honestly read your work for hours without getting bored or tired.

I Think We're Kind of Made for Each Other

This work will be posted (with an additional scene) on AO3 here. Please note that the work posted there will be tagged as Explicit

24.3k words

Proofread? Y/N

Relevant Tags: JinxXReader, Female Reader, Soulmates AU, Multiple timelines, Violence, Major character death, Suicide, Self-Harm, Alcohol consumption, Original side character, Canon compliant, LoL characters

When the anomaly at the Hex Gate transports you and your friends across realities, you're forced to confront the different lives you live in each one. But will you be able to accept a hard truth when you face the only constant thing in every timeline?

A/N: I just wanted to say, that this has to be my magnum opus. I don't think I can write another oneshot this long. To be fair, the idea had been floating in my head for a while, so when the request came, I kinda went crazy. And to think I thought I could write this in a day lol.

Nevertheless, I had a lot of fun writing. I highly encourage you to read some of my other stuff, purely because there are a few references in this story.

Please enjoy. And if you like it, feel free to share with your friends.

One

The feeling of wetness on the side of your face wakes you up—your entire left side, actually—as a dull ache starts to throb in your head. Barely register the rain pelting down on you, as you open your eyes and try to catch your bearings.

There's a loud ringing in your ears, but you can make out muffled shouting and gunfire, the sizzling in the air followed by a boom. It triggers the fight or flight response in you, but everything is hurting and you can't remember how you even ended up here. You should be doing something right now, but for the life of you, you can't figure out what. Your hand wipes at your ear as you open your eyes to inspect it, an unsurprising streak of red on your fingers is starting to smear as the rain continues to pour. Your vision swims for a few seconds, and you figure a concussion is going to be added along with the possible ruptured eardrum in your list of injuries.

Thankfully, your gaze focuses on the sight in ahead of you. The familiar bridge dividing Piltover and Zaun, cracked and blown off at sections. There are armed people hiding behind a barricade on your side of the bridge, shooting at enforcers at the other end of the bridge.

You plant your hands on the concrete and try to push yourself up, getting to about knee level before a sharp pain in your foot knocks the wind out of you and fall back down.  It only occurs to you now to look down and inspect the rest of you. Banged up, caked in dirt and blood—Whose blood was that?—0and your clothes torn at odd places. Your foot is still there, and it's not dangling off at an awkward angle, at least. You grit your teeth and try to move the injured limb. The pain wracks through your body, but your foot moves nonetheless. Sprained, not broken; good.

An explosion next to you pulls you back into reality and starts up your sense of urgency as you crawl away to cover. You hide behind a fallen pillar and try to get your bearings. A number of people run past you, all carrying guns and explosives from what you can make out—Why are we in a gun fight with the Pilties?—all ignoring you as they erect more barricades and set their weapons up. It might be the adrenaline, but you can't for the life of you remember how you ended up in this situation. What the hell were you doing here?

You close your eyes and try to block out the pain from your head and ankle, willing yourself to recall the events prior this firefight.

This was all planned. Carefully planned over the course of years.

The painstaking effort it took to build weapon factories in the fissures to stay out of Piltover's radar.

the underground hand-to-hand combat classes.

"You know, you say we should feel like we're all one people—"

Expanding Zaun southwards to facilitate growth for the future.

"Is that a wild rune?"

"I have no idea what that is."

Noxus antagonizing you for trying to build a better city for your people.

"No, don't touch it!"

"Ekko--"

Your thoughts are interrupted when a pair of hands grab you by your shoulders. Your eyes snap open at the figure in front of you, her pink eyes all too familiar with you. She looks worried—about you, no less—and affection blooms in your chest the same time a feeling of repulsion comes over you. Jinx, you try to say, but you're still reeling from your injuries and your attempt to recall what had just happened, and you're not able to utter a word. She's speaking, but you can barely make out what she's saying because of the ringing in your ears. You try to read her lips, but your mind is too hazy to make sense of her words.

She realizes that you're not understanding her at all, and she spots the blood still coming out of your ear. She gingerly wipes off some of the blood with a gloved hand, and you instinctively—instinctively??—lean into her touch. She pulls out a small vial with a needle at the end of it. The pink glow of its contents immediately tells you that it's shimmer, as Jinx takes off the  cover with her mouth and spits it out to the side.

"No." You say. At least you think you do, you can't really hear yourself. You hand grabs her wrist holding the needle, but she's faster and leans her hand away just out of reach from you. She grabs your own with her free hand, and gives you an apologetic look. You're not sure why, but you can almost tell that she's trying to say this'll help, I promise.

The smile alone is enough to make you relent, and a part of you is bewildered at the fact. Still, you put your hand down and let her stab the needle into your thigh, its contents seeping through.

You lurch forward at the sensation, but she catches you and holds you as you tense up from the high that shimmer delivers with it. You grab onto her as you wait for the effects to subside.

"It's okay, you're okay, I've got you." She whispers into your hair. You relax, slowly but surely. Besides the fogginess you still feel, you're a million gold coins. You gently push yourself away, taking a look around, your sense suddenly heightened. A short side effect of shimmer, if you remember right.

"Jinx." You finally manage. "Are you okay?"

She scoffs, but you know that it's not out of hostility. "Don't you think I should be asking you that?"

She has a point. A part of you wants to contradict her for the fun of it, but this isn't the place, or time. You peek over the side of the pillar, the barricades are holding strong, even gaining ground over Piltover. The momentary safety provided by cover is enough for you pull Jinx and yourself on your feet.

Her face if covered in dirt and grease. She was supposed to be working on Fishbones, away from the front lines. "You're supposed to be on higher ground."

"I'm not gonna sit on my ass while you're all here risking your lives. Besides—" She pushes a rifle onto you. "Fishbones is ready. Once the Noxian's ship is even an inch within range, they're done for."

You shake your head. "You're better if you're--"

"No." She starts. She has a determined look in her eye, the same one she sports when she wants you to drop an argument. And you drop it, every single time.

"I'm just as good as a shot as you. And we're winning." She gestures toward the bridge, where the line of enforcers and Noxians troops are slowly but surely backing away. "We'll need as many boots here as we can. You said it yourself, the hardest part is gonna be holding the line once they call for negotiations."

Your grip tightens on the rifle. You were so close to freeing Zaun. Wait what?

Freeing Zaun? No, you needed to save your tree, with the firelights, and all the refugees. You needed to find Ekko, and Heimerdinger, and Jayce. Jinx… Jinx was the enemy. She killed your friends before, blown up your safehouses, let Silco flood the streets with shimmer—

"The Noxians ships are here!"

You both turn to the east side of the bridge, and spot the fleet approaching. Their pace glacial because of the narrow path on the water. They start deploying smaller boats filled with their soldiers, headed for the small docks on your side of the bridge. You turn back to Jinx, her eyes are still trained on you. She takes a breath, and opens her mouth to say something--

"Cap! We're armed and ready!" A blob of pink hair catches your attention; it's Vi, waving over to you from a distance away. "Give the signal!" You look up to the rooftops above her, a group of people rolling three launchers forward, all trained on the large vessels in the water. The blue glow coming from the HexTech gemstone running through lines on the launchers they were all hauling. One for each ship.

"This is it." You say as you grab Jinx's arm. "Go take cover."

"And leave you here? Fat chance."

"Jinx."

"I'm staying." This stubborn little—You sigh, now was not the time for a petty argument. You were about to give the go signal for a possible war-ending—or war escalating—attack. You settle for pulling Jinx with you as you zigzag towards where Vi is, bullets flying everywhere.

"We're armed and ready." She says as she crouches next to you. You know you can't delay the command, but a pit settles in your stomach as the weight of your decisions starts to sink in. The number of lives that'll be lost from this.

But you don't have the luxury in time, not in war. All you have is the culmination of your split second decisions and the consequences that follow.

"Tell them to fire." You state it with such calmness that it surprises the three of you. Vi nods, nonetheless, and gives the signal to the fighters on the rooftop.

In the few seconds that the high pitched screech of the launchers resonate through the air, the battlefields becomes silent. All eyes trained on the rooftops of Zaun, then the Noxian ships.

The first rocket hits a ship. A loud bang is heard as it makes contact, followed by a muffled explosion as smoke starts to billow out of the ship. The vessel stops moving, and a line of soldiers dressed in red start abandoning ship as fires start erupting out of doors and windows. The other two ships follow the same fate. A loud bang, an explosion, the smoke, and people desperately trying to get away.

You stare at the horrific sight in front of you. There are no sounds from the guns firing from each side, no bangs from projectiles being launched from mini Hex gates. Everyone has stopped whatever they were doing and were now watching people on ships, trying to escape the inferno quickly building up.

Your head throbs, and you stumble as you try to walk towards the bridge. Jinx catches you as you fall to your knees, your head suddenly as heavy as lead, the ringing in your ears returning, louder this time. Jinx is trying to tell you something, but your vision begins to blur, and you feel like you need to just… shut your eyes for a few moments.

-----

Two

"Hey, Ms. Port Master extraordinaire? Hello?"

The snap of fingers brings you out of your stupor. You blink a few times before clearing your throat.

"Sorry." You try to flash a smile to the woman in front of you. Her eyes scrutinize you for a brief moment, seemingly trying to figure out what was going on in your mind, before her infuriatingly attractive smirk adorns her face.

"Didn't peg you for a lightweight."

You snort as you take a sip from your glass. "I'm not a lightweight."

"The zoning out is kind of a dead giveaway."

"I wasn't zoning out. I was lost in your eyes."

"You weren't even looking at me."

"I had to look away cause I was getting lost in your eyes?"

She lightly punches your arm—damn she's strong—before leaning against the counter of the busy bar. You sit close to each other, citing the noisy atmosphere and the hindrance that would cause during your conversation, but you both know better. You wanted to sit close because she was, pardon your French, too fucking attractive. Hers, you weren't sure yet, but you'd be able to find out eventually.

"I'm guessing you don't get lost in all of your customers' eyes, too?"

"Just yours." You’re not a lightweight, that much you’re certain. Tipsy, however, you very much are. If the brazen flirting wasn’t making it obvious enough.

"And you weren't out last night with some poor girl who also had engine troubles?" You put a hand over your chest.

"You're breaking my heart here, blue." The feigned hurt in your voice does little to deter the eye roll that Powder gives you. You let out a laugh as you put your hands up as a mock sign of peace. "Hey, I swear I was trying my best to be professional earlier, but I'm off the clock now, so I can flirt as much as I want."

"Oh, we're flirting?" You furrow your brows at her.

"Was that not clear?"

"Nah, not really."

"Do you platonically get lost in people's eyes?"

"Maybe. How do I know you don't take girls here every night? I could ask the bartender."

"Go ahead, he's an unbiased party. Besides," You shrug. "Even if I did, I'm a regular here so he wouldn't snitch on me."

"Don't put words in my mouth you muppet." the burly man working behind the bar walks towards the two of you, refilling your drinks. He winks at Powder. "Don't worry love, I'd sell this one for a sack of potatoes--"

"Hey!"

"But." He says, a thick eyebrow raised at you. "Lil' missy here isn't a revolving door of lovers. In fact, I don't reckon' she's ever brought someone here. Or landed a date, actually—" Powder snorts into her drink, and you take it as a sign that it's time to usher the barkeep away.

"Okay, thank you Ed, for the refills. I think there's some people asking for you over there." Ed laughs as he lumbers over to the other side of the bar. You keep your eyes on him until you're sure that he's occupied, before turning back to Powder. "I do in fact, get dates. For the record."

"Oh, of course, I totally believe you."

"I mean it."

"Completely believe you."

"Okay, now you're just messing me." Your ego is a bit bruised at Ed's interruption, the shit eating grin on Powder's face isn't helping either. But she's smiling, and for some ungodly reason, you consider it as a win. You shake your head and take a longer sip from your drink, why the hell were you so sappy all of a sudden?

"Okay, okay. Sorry, toots." She nudges you with her shoulder. "No more teasing."

You raise an eyebrow at her. "No more bruising my ego?" She shakes her head and crosses over her heart.

"Nope. Serious questions only, from this point forward."

"Oh? Like what?" You turn to her and prop your chin on your hand.

"Like…" She bites her lip and looks at a random spot on the wall of drinks across from you, momentarily in thought. At this point, you're not even trying to hide your staring. She doesn't call you out on it when she looks back at you, but a small smirk plays at her face. “You’re drunk.”

“Just as drunk as you are.”

“I’m not drunk yet.”

“You’re literally slurring your words right now.”

“…I’m tipsy.”

You do your best to hold back a chuckle. “Hi tipsy—“

“Gods, please don’t.” She groans and hides her face in her hands. “I was just starting to find you attractive.”

“I thought we were done bruising my ego?”

“The dad jokes make you free real estate.”

“Okay, alright.” You laugh. Gently prying her hands away from her face. “Just ask me your question.“

She relents, but doesn’t let go of you as she sets her hand down the counter. “Hmm…”

“Did you grow up here?”

“Here? No, I only came here about five years ago. Looking for my great perhaps and all.” A momentary ring in your ear causes your breath to hitch, but Powder doesn’t seem to notice.

“Where are you from?” She continues, her eyes slightly glazed but reflecting her curiosity.

“I’m from—“

The Free Nation of Zaun

The Undercity

Why the hell would I tell you?

“Hey.” Jinx gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You do your damn best not to yank your hand away. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”

Bilgewater, you’re from Bilgewater.

“No, it’s okay.” You squeeze her hand back before she has the chance to pull away. "Could you give me a second?"

You wait for her to nod before you push yourself off the stool and make your way to the bathroom. You quickly lock the door and rest your head against it. The ringing in your ears returns, and your breathing becomes ragged. "Where the hell am I?" You look over to the bathroom mirror, and you're surprised to see the figure standing in front of you.

Your hair is different; your face—you look healthier? Not someone who grew up in the Undercity. You walk over to the sink, planting both hands on either side, scrutinizing your features further. It's you alright, somehow. Only it's also not.

Born in Bilgewater, left for adventure, ended up here working at the port.

"No." You shut your eyes as you shake your head. "I was born in the Undercity, I'm a firelight, we came across a wild rune and… now I'm here. I need to find Ekko, and Jayce, and Heimerdinger." You repeat the words a few more times, just to make sure you don't forget. The sound of water flowing out of the faucet as you turn a knob offers little comfort, but the cold sensation of the water when you splash your face helps.

You're about to turn and exit the bathroom when you spot something on your arm.  A small thing, peeking out of your sleeve. You gasp as you pull your sleeve back, the web-like patterns of the wild rune threading a line over your forearm.

You needed to find out what was happening, and why you've already encountered Jinx twice, every time you did whatever you were doing. Were you hallucinating? Did you just hit your head and was currently having a really trippy dream? You decide to think this over once you shake off Jinx, Powder, whoever she is. Easier said than done, since you kept acting like some lovesick fool.

When you return to the bar, Jinx is still there. Her back is turned to you, but her shoulders are slumped in a way that you can immediately tell that she's not in a good mood.

"Oi." Ed flicks your ear, ignoring your protest. "What the hell are you doing, making that sweet lass upset?"

I wouldn't use sweet to describe her.

"Sorry, I—uh, I'll fix it."

"Damn right you will. You come across someone like that once every lifetime." He pushes you toward the bar, before going back to clear a table.

"Sorry about that." Her head whips up in surprise, clearly not expecting you to be back. "Lost myself for a bit there."

"I…I thought you snuck out, honestly. It's no big deal, happens sometimes." She shrugs, her shoulders tense. She's trying to be nonchalant about you suddenly excusing yourself, but she was still slurring her words, and her gestures were becoming uncoordinated, so it wasn't really working. She looked more upset the more she tried to play it off.

You reach over the bar and grab a pitcher of water and a glass, filling it up and handing it over to her. "I'm really sorry about that."

She glares at the glass before reluctantly downing its contents "S'fine." A few beats of silence pass, and you unexpectedly feel guilt start to bubble up in your chest. No. No. No.

“I grew up in Bilgewater.”

"Huh?"

"You asked earlier, where I was from? Bilgewater. Terrible place, really." 

She folds her arms on the counter and rests her head on them, closing her eyes. “Why’d you leave?”

“You get sick of the smelly pirates? Though, I do have to give them credit, their wild stories of adventure and conquest is what made me leave in the first place.”

"You didn't just join some random ship?"

You chuckle. "And get myself killed for some dumb mistake? No thanks." You refill her glass with water, before picking up your own and swirling the brown liquid around. You recall working in a bar, up in the higher levels of Bilgewater, where adventurers spent the coin that they made from their exploits, before begrudgingly having to go back down and gather a crew to earn more. A vicious that kept repeating itself. Sometimes, if they were lucky, the whole crew would survive, but those instances were few and far in between.

Memories. You realize. These are all your memories, or, whoever you are here, at least.

A properly functioning Hex Gate was capable of transporting ships across continents in a split second. Does this mean a magically screwed up one could transport you to a different life entirely? Was it because of the remnants of the anomaly on your arm?

You shake your head, this was stuff that Ekko was good at, not you. You needed to find him, fast.

But first, take care of this one.

As if on cue, you hear a light snore come from next to you. Jinx is knocked out, clearly not bothered by how she's awkwardly hunched over the counter. You sigh, you have no idea how to get back home, but you decide to handle that issue tomorrow. Right now, you had a drunk Jinx to take care of.

Thankfully, you remember where you live, because having to haul around a drunk Jinx was difficult enough. Small victories though, as you realize that this is better than being stuck in the middle of a battle field. You settle yourself on your bay window, looking over to Jinx's sleeping form on your bed. Tomorrow, you'd start figuring out a way to get home. For now, you'll try to get your first wink of sleep in Gods know how long.

-----

Twenty-eight

In the indiscernible amount of time that has passed—for you, at least—you've come to realize the following things: 

You are not hallucinating, nor did you hit your head, you are, in fact, jumping through universes and different versions of yourself.

The first hurdle you had to get through was getting your bearings when you'd get thrown into another universe. It took a few tries, but eventually, you were able to come to your senses immediately after jumping to the next plane of existence you were in. You always repeated the mantra you made back in the second jump you did, the last thing you needed was to forget where you came from. The thought of aimlessly wandering through universes, feeling like you've lost your mind, you can't even imagine how terrible that would be. You needed to find the others as soon as you can.

The length of stay always varied and timelines can repeat, but there are always miniscule variations.

This was still a working theory. You've only repeated a timeline once, but you had enough wits about you to realize that some objects were a different color to their preceding counterpart, or that instead of Ekko explaining something to you, it was Scar. With how long you'd stay, there were a few instances when you'd only stay for a few minutes, but the rest spanned to about a week at the longest.

Somehow, some way, you and Jinx are connected in some way, shape, or form. In every. Single. One.

The last one was especially jarring, considering you had never even met Jinx officially back in your universe. Sure, you’ve had run-ins with her because the Firelights would frequently be trying to intercept shimmer routes, but you don't think barely surviving one of her chompers counted as an introduction. On top of that, she was your enemy back home, but in every single jump you've had so far, the two of you had a somewhat established relationship. This was good, in a way, because at least you didn't have to be on your guard constantly while you tried to figure out a way to get home.

"I can hear you thinking from over here."

Speak of the devil.

You ignore the comment from your friend. Emphasis on friend. In this universe it seemed, the both of you were Academy students in Piltover, mercifully platonic. You decided to do your best to study wild runes and HexTech when you could, but it proved to be difficult when you were distracted by that Other You's feelings for Jinx. At least this place gave you access to a literal sea of books and a clear enough mind.

"Hey, don't ignore me." Jinx opts to lightly tug at the top half of the book you're reading, and you can see her blue eyes peek through the space. That's right, no shimmer exposure in this universe.

"I'm studying." You deadpan, hoping she'll leave you alone. You get a mock imitation of your words, instead.

"No you're not, none of our classes are even looking into dusty old books about runes." She has a point. Truth be told, you're supposed to be studying about ethical practices in the field of body modification for utility uses. Which was close to nothing, really. But you can't really tell Jinx why you're reading about runes, now, can you?

"Have you ever heard of this thing called supplementary reading?" You shake the book off of her fingers, and go back to your futile attempt to learn about magic. Not that this book was any use, there wasn't even a list of runes and their definitions on here. The girl in front of you leans back on her chair and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Ugh, you're boring. Let's go do something fun!" Her foot kicks at your shoe from under the table, and you have to lift both feet up to avoid her kicks.

"Hey! Not everyone can sleep through every class and still get high marks, Jinx." You scoot your chair out from under the table to put distance between the two of you. "Some of us have to actually study."

"What's studying without any field experience?"

"Pipe down. The librarian is gonna kick us both out, again."

She sticks her tongue out at you, but lowers her voice. "Come on, I'm dying of boredom here!" She splays out her upper half on the table, arms toppling over some of the papers and books you—Very neatly!—stacked for reference.

Your mouth forms a thin line, her rowdy, and playful personality had become apparent to you once you went through a few more universes. She'd get pissed if you ignored her for too long, but the structured environment of the Academy hindered a her from having any outbursts. So you opt to continue reading your books instead of taking the bait, quashing any urge from the You of this universe to make a side comment about her behavior.

She continues with her ranting about you not having any fun or having a stick up your ass. Her jabs get progressively more offensive, but that's how her and the Other You here interact. It's not fun for you yourself, because you didn't have the patience to make a jab at her without losing your cool.

You rub an eyebrow with one your hands, before gripping the book, willing yourself to focus on the next few pages in case they provide any useful information. You try to tune out the other girl, who has thankfully gone quiet.

You move book to book, thankful that this version of you could read and absorb information so fast. Sadly, you couldn't find anything about wild runes. Looks like Piltover was strict about distancing itself from magic as much as they could.

You don't look up from your book until you hear a grumbling from in front of you.

"What was that?" You close your book and pile it onto the Useless pile--which was all of them, really--and raise an eyebrow at Jinx, whose arms are crossed and is looking off to the side.

"doyouwannageticecream" You blink.

"Jinx, I'm not gonna understand a word you say if you keep grumbling like that."

She rolls her eyes. "I said, do you wanna get ice cream? or something."

Huh, how random.

"I made you upset earlier, and ice cream makes people feel better so..."

"I wasn't upset" You were.

"Yeah you were."

"I was annoyed."

"I know your annoyed face from your upset face."

"There's a difference?"

"So you were!" She slams her hand on the table, and is met by an irate librarian shushing her. You're once again taken aback by how different each Jinx behaves from the others. Where you were sure your universe's Jinx would have shot that poor woman, this one sheepishly rubs the back of her neck and throws a peace sign at her. If you weren't exposed to your universe's Jinx, you would have found her behavior cute. But you were exposed, so it absolutely isn't, and you're not going to play along with her to make her feel better.

"Thank for the offer jinx, but I'm not really in the mood to get ice cream." Good. "...and I'm not mad at you, or anything." You swear the last part was added in by Other You. Nonetheless, this seems to work as Jinx relaxes, resigning to making paper airplanes with the notes you had made while you went back to reading.

"Wanna break into Giopara's lab?" She starts.

"No."

"I think you'd want to—"

"No."

"If you say so." the singsong tone in her voice and the in caring shrug sets off alarm bells in your head. She's baiting you again.

Your eyes narrow at her. "You're being weird."

"No I'm not. I just thought—seeing as you're all interested in runes all of a sudden--you'd want to look at Giopara's vast  book collection on that very subject."

"How the hell would you even know that?"

"Cause," She shrugs again. "He keeps saying I'm not living up to my potential and tries to make me read more Hex Tech origin stuff."

Your mouth hangs open, but you manage to close it before Jinx calls you a blubbering fish. "Wait a second. You're saying you've been reading about runes and Hex Tech?"

"Yup."

"So you know that the books here in the library are useless?"

"Mhm."

"And you've been letting me waste my time reading through them like an idiot?" 

She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms. "They're not useless. They're just... Not useful."

"You're such a dick sometimes." Your remark is loud enough that the librarian to shush you as well. You whisper a sorry before turning back to Jinx.

"And you always have a stick up your ass." She whispers loudly.

"Yeah cause someone has to keep you from getting yourself killed, or worse, expelled!"

She snorts. "Really toots? Getting expelled is worse than getting killed?"

"The chances of getting expelled are higher with you, unfortunately."

She leans forward conspiratorially, a grin on her face. You don't notice yourself mirror her. "So come with me to break into his office, so I don't get expelled. Don't you want to read all those rune books? He doesn't even keep track of what gets taken out of there."

"Then why don't you just borrow them during lab hours?"

"What fun is that?"

"Jinx!"

"We'll be quick, five minutes, tops. And you'll have your dumb rune books." You grit your teeth. On one hand, You could just ask her to teach you what she knows. But you've known her—Other You!—your whole life, so you're a hundred percent sure that you'd have to pry that information out of her cold, dead, hands. On the other, Jayce's head was so far up in his own ass that Jinx was probably correct in saying he wouldn't notice any missing books.

I also don't know when I'll be yanked into another universe. There was also that.

"How sure are you that you can get us in and out that fast?"

"A million percent. Dude forgets to lock the door sometimes." She's already standing up and shoving all of your notes into your book bag, your eye twitches just the tiniest bit, before your head snaps up to look at her.

"How do you know that?" You ask as you start carrying the books to the book trolley.

"You're asking too many questions here. Less talking, more walking. Go, go, go." She ushers you out into the hallway, and the both of you start walking towards the east wing of the academy. The sun had already set, so there were much less students loitering. Still, the both of you err on the side of caution and stick to the lesser used hallways where the custodians had already turned off the lights.

You eventually find your way to the front of Jayce's lab, and Jinx wastes no time kneeling on front of the door and pulling out what looked like tools and shoving them into the door knob. This is definitely not her first breaking and entering.

"Where the hell did you get lockpicks?!" You do your best to keep your voice down, the allure of learning about runes slowly dissipating, panic replacing it.

"What did I say about less talking?" She whips around and raises her eyebrows at you, right as she turns the doorknob and opens the previously locked door.

"We're so fucked."

"You know, if we weren't stretched for time, I'd be celebrating you breaking your curse word quota for the day." She yanks her tools out of the door knob, and pushes you into the lab.

The room is nearly pitch black. Thankfully, the unlit hallways were enough for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. The low light from the moon streaming through the windows the only thing helping with your vision. Somehow, Jinx is able to navigate just fine.

"Okay, how often do you actually break in here?"

"How often is underground robot fight club again?" Robot fight club. The only thing Jinx is willing to wake up early for. Wait a second—

"Jinx!" You don't bother lowering your voice. Hoping that the closed room would be enough to muffle any sounds from coming into the hallway.

"What?"

"That's twice a week!"

"Where did you think we were getting our parts?"

"You said you knew a guy!"

"Clearly." She gestures around the room, where there were plenty of scattered machinery parts. Your face pales slightly; this Jinx was going to get You expelled, surely.

"You made me an accessory!"

"And now you're committing the crime. Congratulations, you've been promoted." She opens another door and theatrically gestures at the room. "Your little rune books await, oh great stuck-up one."

You roll your eyes at her and enter the room without any fanfare. Immediately you see that the all four walls of the room are lined with bookshelves as high as the ceiling. In the middle, a large wooden table with charts and books scattered across. Jinx stops next to you and nudges you with her shoulders. "Told 'ya. Worth the risk, right?"

"That's still up in the air."

She scoffs. "You totally think it is."

You don't want to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but you don't even notice that you're grinning back at her until she puts an arm around your shoulders and waves her hand flippantly at the shelves. Other You's stomach does a backflip.

No. Absolutely not.

"So what are we looking for?"

You once again quash whatever physical reaction you're having. Now was definitely not the time. You walk out of her arm's reach and resort to looking around the spines of the books, already trying to spot their titles. "Wild runes."

There's a beat of silence before you hear her walking around the carpeted floor. "Wild runes huh? Yeah, I think I've seen a few of those around. Don't think I read them, though."

"That's fine." You start rifling around the shelves. Reading through anything that looked promising.

Jinx is the first to break the silence. She usually is. "So what are these books for, again?"

"I told you, supplementary reading. Also there isn't much to read on out ethics class so might as well fill my time with something fun."

Jinx doesn't reply, and you're happy to keep on reading through your books until you get a nagging feeling that you've just done something wrong.

You turn around to look at Jinx, who was plopped down on the floor and half-heartedly pulling books out, before seemingly placing them somewhere else at random. You mentally kick yourself when you notice that her shoulders are slumped. Opting to put the book search on hold, you walk over to her, hesitating for a moment before sitting down next to her.

"You know you can tell me stuff, right?" Her voice is quiet, and it's unsettling that you have the sudden urge to comfort her.

Yes, yes of course. This version of you felt completely at ease with Jinx. But you can't afford to be distracted by affection that wasn't even yours to begin with. If only you could explain that you've been universe-hopping and that in every single one of them you were in love or falling in love with her, and that you were trying to at least stall in this one so you could get as much information as you could before you got dragged into a different timeline again.

You can't, not really. But you know better than to try to lie to her.

"I think there might be another side to Hex Tech that we haven't discovered yet."

She stops rearranging the books and turns to you slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Like... Equal and opposite reactions."

"You think Hex Tech might have negative effects?" You feel your guilt lift at the curious glint in her eyes as you nod.

"Something like that. It's just a theory, though. I don't have anything to back it up."

"Well," She stands up and heads over to a shelf at the far wall. Pulling out an old looking tome. "I think this is just the book you're looking for." She blows off dust from the cover, coughing lightly from the cloud that forms. You quickly stand up and walk toward her, looking over the tome.

My ticket home—

"I don't care if they think I'm hogging too many testing hours, my methods actually work."

The door in the other room slams shut, you and Jinx immediately crouch down and move to turn the light off. Your eyes barely have time to adjust before Jinx pulls you over to the window.

"Are you crazy? We're on the second floor!" You whisper as she tries to pry it open.

"Less talking, more helping." As if on cue, you hear ruffling near the door. Less talking, more helping.

You help Jinx open the window, one hand still clutching the tome. You pray to every God out there that Jayce actually won't realize he's missing a book. The both of you swing your legs over the edge, and you grab onto the wall, suddenly feeling very nauseous. Jinx on the other hand, is grinning like a maniac.

"Aim for the bushes."

"Aim for the wha—"

You're unable to finish your sentence as Jinx pushes you out the window. You were wrong, the chances of getting killed might actually be higher than getting expelled.

While this was the first time Other You was getting pushed out of a window, this was fortunately—and sadly—not your first. Your instincts kick in and you're able to land on your feet, using the momentum to tuck and roll safely on the ground. All with the tome still clutched on one hand.

You're about to give Jinx a piece of your mind when she mouths catch me and you panic and free up your hands, just in time for her to land right into your arms. Sadly, however, strength doesn't carry over between universes as well as technique. Your knees buckle and you fall backwards. You barely have time to recover before Jinx is tucking the tome under her arm and pulling you up to your feet, already running away from the building.

You follow suit, quickly discovering that cardio was also not transferrable between timelines. Still, you keep running until your legs are burning and you see the dorms come into view, only stopping once you're both safely hidden at its side entrance.

You somehow beat Jinx to the door, your hands on your knees as your chest heaves. She comes to a stop right next to you. Planting a hand on your shoulder and using you for support.

"That was—"

"Fucking stupid."

She slaps your shoulder and laughs, commenting about how she likes this new, cussing, version of you. You take a second to compose yourself, huffing before standing to your full height, ready to give her a piece of your mind. Instead you stop short, your faces only a few inches apart. Thankfully, she seems just as surprised at the proximity, enough that she drops the infuriating grin on her face.

Her eyes flit to your lips, then to your eyes. A pointed look in hers. A challenge more than an invitation, really.

Your mind goes haywire.

There are many, many—actually so many—reasons why you should not, at all, kiss Jinx. Different timeline or not, you, specifically you, cannot do it. It would be the greatest betrayal to your people, your friends, everyone you know and love, your moral code, your promise to take down Silco's empire and clean the Undercity, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Jayce; have you mentioned your friends?

A tug at the front of your shirt, her biting her lip to stop a smile that reaches her eyes anyway, and your resolve begins to slip.

You can feel her breath on your lips.

"Stop thinking."

You will swear on your grave that it's the Other You that grabs her and closes the gap.

-----

Ninety-five

Timelines can have profound disparities from each other, but they could also have nearly miniscule, insignificant ones as well. This means that you could jump from one timeline where you were wearing a blue shirt, then a red one in the next, with everything else staying the same. Be a firelight in one, and next thing you know, you're an enforcer.

Sometimes, the big and small changes can mix things up. While they haven't been a huge inconvenience to you in the past—present, future?—they sure as hell were now.

Exhibit A: You're an enforcer.

Exhibit B: You're thrown into the mix on the day of the bridge explosion.

Exhibit C: Instead using a chomper to blow herself up, Jinx rigs the underside of the middle of the bridge with explosives.

At this point, ninety-five jumps in, you should really learn to be more vigilant when it comes to tackling unpredictable situations. Not that you can fully put yourself at fault, of course. You just wanted to make sure Ekko and his friends survived.

…And arrest Jinx so she didn't blow herself up. Then nothing else!

So why the hell am I lugging an unconscious Jinx into my apartment? You wonder as you set Jinx down on your bed. The panic and anxiety of the Other You understandably building up, seeing as she and Jinx haven't met yet. That and you're an enforcer harboring a wanted fugitive. And she killed Other You's friends, so the grief and anger are really making things confusing.

You roll Jinx onto her back, checking to see if she has any injuries. There's a deep cut on her side—courtesy of you while you were fighting—but nothing you couldn't stitch up yourself. Granted she doesn't wake up and shoot you, first.

Lumbering over to your bathroom where you kept your first aid kit, you flip the lights on. There's a semi-concerning pool of red on the front of your jacket, and your undershirt. You turn to the mirror, and spot what looks like a gash right under your breast. No big deal, it'll stop bleeding on its own. Must've been a sharp part of the bridge that nicked you as it collapsed, or maybe you cut yourself while fishing yourself and Jinx out of the harbor. Something I can fix later.

You grab a chair and settle on the side of your bed, taking out your suturing kit and disinfecting your hands. This shouldn't take too long, but that was never the problem. The problem was what would happen after Jinx wakes up.

You initially thought of just taking her to her hideout, but you ran the risk of running into Silco's people. While you could've just left at the docks—well, you don't really have a reason to not have left her at the docks, now do you?

You shake the thought out of your mind and get to work on closing the cut. It wasn't bleeding as much, but leaving it alone could get it infected, plus it would take forever to close.

Not that I care. You futilely tell yourself. As if saving her from dying, carrying her back to your home, and stitching up her wounds were normal activities between an enforcer and a fugitive—a fugitive of your creation!—on any given day. You weren't even originally planning on stopping her from dying. You know she comes back, pumped full of shimmer and allegedly a thousand times faster. Your only concern was getting Ekko to safety, but then one thing led to another, and you had your gun pointed at her as you were telling her she was under arrest. Everything should have worked out fine, if only the bridge didn't blow up.

Once her cut's been stitched up, and you change the bandage on an injury on her leg. You do a once over to check if she has any other life-threatening ailments. Once you deem that there are none, you decide change into a clean set of clothing. After slapping on a bandage over your cut—also bleeding a lot less—and putting on a sweater, your eye catches the mark the wild rune left on your forearm. You're reminded about another discovery you made: The mark was slowly fading.

You hypothesize that it had something to do with the number of times you were jumping through timelines. Did that make it a timer? Or was it a limited number of lives that was counting down to zero? And what does that mean when it runs out? Will you be stuck in that timeline forever? Or will it return you back home?

Learning about Hex Tech and runes was proving to be difficult jumping around to different timelines every few days. You'd have to pick up right where you left off every jump, and even then your access to resources was limited depending on the timeline. Not that you were making any progress, anyway. You were convinced that you needed to be a proper magic user before you could make sense of what you were learning.

You put your first aid kit away and head back into your room. It's not without difficulty, as you feel the adrenaline rush you had back at the bridge slowly ebb away; you're surprised it even lasted this long in the first place. But now you needed to rest a hand against your dresser for support, a feeling of lightheadedness starting to take over. Staying steady was actually becoming a bit difficult.

The hand you're using for support shifts to the side, as you struggle with your balance, and tips over a small container. The familiar rattling of pills catches your attention. You pick up the bottle and rattle it again before reading the label. A nagging feeling at the back of your mind is telling you that you've forgotten about something.

...Iron supplements. It read.

Uh oh.

"Fuck"

You suddenly feel like the best course of action is to close your eyes for a bit and sit on the floor to collect yourself, as you vaguely register the pill bottle clattering onto the ground.

Five seconds. That's all you need and you'll be back in tip top shape.

One.

Two.

Three.

A weight on your stomach, pushing out all the air you're trying to breathe in.

Four--

Click.

Your eyes open blearily, barely registering the barrel of a gun right in front of your eyes. Your gun, in fact. Panic and dread start to fill your senses, and for the first time since you hopped into this plane of existence, you agree with Other You's

feelings. If this was any of the preceding timelines, you would've been confident that Jinx wouldn't harm a hair on your head.

But not in this one.

You look past your gun and spot blue eyes staring at you. Some of the panic you feel dwindle when you see the curious look in her eyes—you can read her like a book at this point—and the slack of her grip on the gun. At least she isn't planning on shooting you immediately.

"Hello." You croak out, your voice hoarse from sleep. Oh no, were you a mouth breather in this timeline too?

Her hold on the gun straightens; your attention is immediately rapt and trained only on her. "Silco got you in his pocket, or something?"

You hesitantly swallow. Saying yes to buy yourself time was certainly one way to do it, but on the off chance that this was a test, that was a one way ticket to getting a bullet in your cranium.

"No."

The tip of the gun leaves your vision for a second, but you're spared no relief when you feel it jammed under your jaw. Wrong answer, then.

She comes into full view, sitting on your stomach—so that's why you couldn't breathe—boots on either side of your chest. "So what, you some kind of sicko? Saving poor 'ol me, patching me up? Or are you one of those delusional Pilties that think you can save some misunderstood girl from the Undercity?" Her head tilts to the side, a lilt in her voice as she says the last part.

"No." You struggle to get the next words out. "I swear." Your hand ball into fists as she jams the gun in deeper. Wait a second, my hands are free. I can take her do—no. No. I am not going to escalate the situation.

An oversight, or a challenge?

"You had a clear shot at me, you didn't shoot. I try to blow you up, you fish me out of the harbor and stitch up my wounds." Your eyes flit to her bandaged side She leans her face closer to yours. "Why?"

Well you see, I think we're kind of made for each other. You're tempted to say, but you doubt she's in any state to believe you. In any case, you'll actually come across as some sicko. Not that Other You would have shot her, either. You could feel the hesitation on her end when you had the gun trained on Jinx. If Marcus hadn't pulled his gun on Kiramman, she might have, but she thankfully had some sense of justice, and seeing the sheriff's true colors come out was enough to view everything with more scrutiny.

You have an inkling feeling that Other You would still end in the situation you're currently in. One way or another.

"I…I don't kno—"

"Liar!" The butt of your pistol connects with your temple, and you're nearly knocked out again. The room spins, and you're barely able to focus on Jinx again before her nails are digging into the skin on your cheeks, forcing you to face her. There's frustration written all over her face, but you know that she's just trying to make sense of the situation, if her shaking hand is any indication. Your fault, really, Other You is confused as hell, too.

She moves a foot back, and shifts so that her knee is carrying her weight—you're half thankful that it's not on your stomach anymore—as she leans forward. Her face closer now.

Your eyes focus back on hers. A mix of emotions swimming on those pools of blue; frustration, hostility, anger. But you also see panic, vulnerability, regret, and confusion. Her grip on you face loosens marginally. And then it hits you.

She didn't want to hurt you.

One thing constant in every timeline that you've been to, is the almost magnetic pull you felt towards her; the need to always have her in near proximity, and the sense of calm that would come over you if she was. And try as you might, you couldn't ignore the wave of affection that you would feel while you were with her.

Is it possible she feels this as well?

It's a risky thing to test, especially since you didn't know what would happen to you if Other You died. But it is kind of your own doing at this point.

You say nothing, hoping that she'll fill in the silence.

Her hand continues to shake, but you can tell that her anger is already wavering. You almost miss her asking you why again, she probably meant to keep it to herself.

"I don't want to hurt you either."

Risky. But you don't have a lot of options left.

She lets out a breath at your words, the gun retracts.

"Who are you?" Her voice is quiet, unsure.

Your soulmate, apparently. "Nobody." You answer semi-honestly. You were, technically, she hasn't had the chance to know you in this timeline yet.

She shakes her head and looks away. "No you're not." The softness of her tone catches you off guard. Her hand moving away from your cheek to clutch the collar of your sweater, doubly so. "You…you're familiar."

"Like we already know each other." Her eyes meet yours again, the surprise in them evident. She said those same words to you in a few past timelines. You always thought they were just little variations in those particular versions of her, but now…this just supports your hypothesis that she also cycles through the same sensations you do.

Your eye catches a faint streak of light manages to slip through your closed curtains, providing a miniscule amount of light into your dark room. "It's morning." You muse out loud, looking back at the still speechless girl on top of you. "Enforcers are going to be everywhere. You need to get out of here."

Her sense of urgency is seemingly stirred by your words, and she pulls you up along with her. Confusion still litters her features, you hope the smile you offer her is enough for comfort.

"Can you walk okay?" her mouth opens and closes a few times, still at a loss for words. You decide to push your luck, slowly reaching a hand over to touch her free arm. "Jinx."

Her brows furrow. The question of your knowledge of her name accusingly reflected in her eyes.

"I heard Kiramman say it, at the bridge." Thank goodness she actually did. Otherwise, this would've been very confusing for Other You in the future.

"I—" She starts. "I have to go."

You nod. "There's a fire escape out the bathroom window. Hold on—" You go to your dresser and pull out a hooded coat, moving to drape it over her, only to stop short when her shoulder tenses. Her eyes are trained on you, a slight air of hostility between them. You don't push to put on the coat, but you don't lower your arm either; waiting for her make the decision for you.

Her eyes flit around the room, seemingly trying to find her words around your home. She lets out a sigh, her shoulders drooping slightly. You take this as a positive sign, and gently place the coat over her shoulders. You see her hand tense around your gun, not in a threatening way, instinctively.

You slowly back away from her to give her space. She looks away from you as she slips her free hand into one of the sleeves, before grabbing the gun and slipper her other arm into the remaining sleeve. It's a little big on her, but the size and the addition of the hood is enough to hide anything that could immediately identify her.

There's uncertainty in her eyes when she looks back at you; she hesitantly lifts the hand holding the gun, the barrel clutched in her hand. "This is yours."

You shake your head. "As much as I hate to say this, you might need it."

She mutters an oh before holstering the gun in her hip. You gesture to an open door and lead her into the bathroom, pulling the window open and checking if there was anyone in the alley below. The sun was slowly but surely rising, it's rays already illuminating the dim streets in the main road.

"Coast is clear, stick to the alleys and you should be fine." You stand aside and let her climb out, her hand resting on the windowsill. The look she gives you tells you that she's trying to find an ounce of deception in your features. But she won't find any, not when it concerns her, not ever.

"I'll…I'll get you your gun back."

"Don't worry about it." You shrug. "I'll find you."

You see the ghost of a smile on her lips as she turns around and climbs down the ladder, disappearing into an adjacent alleyway.

"I always seem to find you." You mutter to yourself.

-----

One Hundred Sixty-Eight

The familiar smell of grease and burnt metal fills your nose as you enter your old workshop. Jayce had been kind enough to hand you the keys after you had asked if you could see the old place. Don't go too crazy he said. You rolled your eyes at his comment, of course. It wasn't as if you were going to steal anything as a souvenir; maybe draw something inappropriate on a whiteboard, sure. But as you drew closer to the lab, you spotted Jinx's car, and well, now you were going there for two reasons. You should have just turned around and not indulged Other You's—not yours!—thoughts. The length of time you spent in each timeline was getting longer on average, and you had to make the best of it while you could, especially with the mark slowly fading with each pass.

You walk towards the wall of the shared space, everything was still as messy as you—Other You—remembered. Diagrams and papers still littered table tops, probably permanent coffee stains on tables. But the hanging photos were new.

The first one was of Viktor and Jayce when they first started working on Hextech, just two young adults that barely knew what they were doing. The second one was of you three right after they had officially hired you. The third one was Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, and Jinx. Your eyes stray back to the middle photo, the one with you in it. The moment felt like lifetimes ago.

It's strange, looking at the person cheekily smiling back at you, already older than you in your original timeline. This body felt terribly tired, like the Other You here went through the ringer trying to get here.

The sound of a chair screeching and shuffling around one of the rooms grabs your attention. Your eyebrows furrow. Jayce didn't say anything about someone else being here, especially nearing midnight. You cautiously make your way to the room, trying not to make too much noise in case they'll think you're an intruder. The door is ajar, letting light seep through the darker main floor. There's a pull in your chest again, and you're reminded of your second objective here. Other You had wanted to speak to Jinx earlier, but couldn't because there was a line of other people that wanted your attention. By the time you broke free from the others, Jinx had already left.

A familiar warmth fills your chest. It looked like she had gone straight back to work after the party, still in her dress, heels discarded on the side, twirling a pencil as she looked over notes. Her headphones were on, and the couch she was lounging on was turned away from the door, so you doubt she'd hear or see you moving around.

You open the door fully and lean against the frame, deciding to wait until she notices you standing there. Not like you'd go unnoticed long, she probably felt the tugging too.

It's not even a minute before she stops what she's doing and turns around. There's a split second where surprise crosses her features, but she quickly recovers, raising an eyebrow at you instead.

"Come crawling back to the slums have we?" She says as she takes off her headphones and leaves it at her neck. She wears her hair down nowadays. It's also shorter here, only reaching the middle of her back. It's refreshing to see, and you find yourself brushing off the question of whether or not the older Jinx in your timeline would cut her hair the same one day.

"Something like that."

She scoffs, turning back to look at her work. Her words are friendly, but there's tension in the air. You're not sure if you should move into the room, or leave.

"Don't stand there like a creep, come sit." She pats the space next to her. There's no edge to her words either, so maybe the tension is coming from you. You're aware that there's a significant amount of history between her and Other You, but you're not sure whether this is the time or place to be settling past issues. What you do know, is that you shouldn't wait any longer before sitting down next to her.

There's a metal box in the coffee table in front of you, next to where Jinx has propped up her legs. "It's a prototype for a gemstone case." She says before you can ask. She takes the small box and twirls it in her hand, small prongs are protruding on the inside. "The goal is to make sure the gemstones only work if they're in these. So we can start using them for the more dangerous jobs around here; stop people from stealing them, since you have to break the case to get the stone."

You take the box when she offers it, testing the weight of it in your hands. "Did you go straight here after the party?"

"Not much to do there for me." She shrugs. "I'd rather work on this. Besides, you went here after the party, too."

"Fair point." You set the case back down on the table, and watch Jinx place it on a small stand to the side. "You work until midnight often?"

The corners of her lips quirk into a smile. "Talis is drowning in debt with the amount of overtime he has to pay me." You're about to laugh along with her, till you remember Jayce's comment earlier. Jayce you little—

She nudges you with her shoulder. "You're thinking again, that can't be good."

"Jayce."

"What about him?"

"Some dumb comment he said earlier when he gave me the keys to here."

"Oh?" A mischievous look in her eyes. "What did my boss say, exactly?" You grimace. This isn't fair, she fully knows Jayce said something completely out of pocket.

"Nothing."

"Bull. Tell me so I can take it out of context and bully him into giving me a raise." At this comment you actually laugh. You don't doubt that Jinx has probably done that at least once already. Jayce's tendency to say things without thinking is the worst thing to have when working with someone like Jinx.

"Tell me." She nudges you again, this time with a little more force. "Or else."

"Or else what?"

"I'll kick your ass." Just like that, the tension in the air lifts. You remember the times this version of yourself was at odds with Jinx, only to make up after spending a few minutes together. It's terrifyingly so easy, how fast she can disarm you—literally and figuratively—like it's nothing. How she beckons you over and you oblige with desperate speed. But Other You isn't as experienced in resisting Jinx's charms—ie your souls being tied together, apparently—so you still have the audacity to push her buttons.

"Aren't you too old to be threatening to kick people's asses?" She leans back, mouth agape, you snort at her expression, but the entertainment is short lived as a throw pillow connects with your face. You huff, genuinely surprised that she'd hit you. She throws her head back and barks out a laugh at your expression.

"Can't believe you're still a brat at thirty."

"Watch it, buster. You're the same age as me."

"You know what they say about growing up being a choice." You duck this time when she swings, grabbing the throw pillow next to you and decking her in the face with it. For a second you think that you hit her too hard—and these throw pillows were notorious for being harder than regular pillows—but the second you drop the one in your hand, she tackles you.

You're momentarily disoriented as your back lands on the seat. Jinx hits you a few more times, before she pins you down with the pillow, legs on either side of your waist, chest heaving. You sink further into the couch as she leans in close.

"Take that back."

The logical side of you knows that you should just say sorry, but the prideful side of you refuses to relent. "Which part? Growing up being a choice, or you being a bra—" The pillow thuds against your face. "Ow! Hey! Those things hurt."

You sit up to grab her wrists before she can land another blow. She pushes you in response, getting herself pulled down with you in the process. You lean a bit to side to stop your heads from hitting each other, Jinx pressing flush against you. The last thing Jayce needed was one of his employees getting a concussion because of a pillow fight. Though, you could use that as an excuse to get rid of the old throw pillows, but that would come with the price humiliation for you and Jinx. Not to mention relentless teasing from your other friends.

You shake your head at the train of thought. You were thinking too much about this, you really should have just turned around earlier.

The sound of her laughter brings you out of your musings. The way her chest rumbled with each breath. She rests her head in the crook of your neck, it doesn't even occur to you that you've let go of her hands, instead moving your them to her back and keeping her close—so she doesn't roll off and hurt herself, of course.

You yourself were out of breath, and probably flushed—because you were getting older and tire easy, nothing else!—as you felt yourself laughing with her.

When she lifts her head to look at you, she makes sure that she's still close enough that her lips brush against your jaw. The both of you know it's a proven and effective way for your mind to go blank, for you to focus solely on her. You keep telling yourself you be able to resist it, eventually. You never do.

The logical part of your brain once again reminds you that it's not a good idea to be this close, to prolong the time you two are in close proximity to each other. That you need to prioritize finding a way home, that there are people that depend on you and that this is irresponsible behavior. But for some reason, you find yourself not wanting to listen for once.

Maybe it's just because your souls might be tied to each other. Maybe it's because you spent the last one hundred sixty-seven timelines watching other versions of yourself being in love or falling in love with her. Maybe it's because of the Other You here, and her relationship with this Jinx. The both of you are older in this timeline, you've known each other longer, know each other better, seen each other grow together and apart, only to find your way back to her, over and over again.

It's not just that, though.

It's the softness in her eyes whenever she looks at you, the way she brushes your hair out of your face. It's every time she checks on you if she senses that you're not alright. It's her knowing what you want to say before you say anything. How immersed she gets in her work, drowning out the rest of the world while she works on a project. Every morning that you've had to wake up next to her, watching her sleep peacefully. It's her temper, and how passionate she gets when arguing over something. It's finding her doodles and notes that she's left for you every single timeline. It's the urge to find her when you end up in a timeline where she isn't immediately by your side.

It's her, all one hundred sixty-eight versions of her, and every version after. Honestly, how many variations of yourself do you have to watch love this girl before you finally admit it to yourself?

Too many.

"Got something to say to me?" The corner of her eyes crinkle as she smirks at you.

It's how she knows you.

"I love you." You breathe out. She doesn't try to hide her surprise this time, or isn't able to. She blinks a few times, and you smile at the fact that it's her mind going haywire for once.

You take advantage of her being momentarily stunned, sitting up, keeping your hold on her so she actually doesn't fall over.  She instinctively grabs onto your shoulders for support.

"It's getting late." Her eyebrows furrow at your words.

"You just told me you love me, and now you're dipping?"

"I mean…You haven't answered, and I'm getting sleepy. Plus, the bed at the hotel I got is really ni—"

She doesn't let you finish as she yanks you into a kiss. You happily oblige, sighing and pulling her closer. Sadly, it doesn't last long as she breaks the kiss with a start, pushing your shoulders back when you try to chase after her lips.

"You really need to learn when to shut up sometimes." You take the hint and stay quiet, trying to bite back the smile already forming on your face. She rolls her eyes at your expression, having trouble hiding her own smile.

She doesn't need to say it back, not really. You understand that she hasn't seen Other You in a long time, and although the latter felt the same, your confession was more of a selfish move for yourself, really.

You can wait. As long as she wants, as long as she needs.

Her eyes flit back to your lips, before returning to your eyes. The mischievous glint returning.

"What's this about your hotel room having a nice bed?"

---

Two Hundred Fourteen

Meetings at the Firelight hideout weren't unusual.

In fact, a lot of your meetings with the group were often held here. Especially once Jinx had found out where you lived. So when you received a message from Ekko asking you to head over there because they had gotten a tip about a shipment of Shimmer, there were no alarm bells ringing in your head. A rookie mistake on your part, really.

To be completely fair, you had taken advantage of the two months you were here. You've never stayed anywhere over ten days, and the fact that you still had some semblance of the mark on your forearm meant that you were still going to get pulled into a different timeline at some point. But in the meantime, you started tinkering with equipment you could use to build your own Hex gate. The only thing missing was a gemstone.

Also in order to be completely fair. You were busy with Jinx, who you were slowly trying to convince to leave Silco's employ entirely. Which was a complicated thing to tackle, because you were an independent contractor that often worked with the Firelights. This meant that when she started showing up to your home unannounced, you had to switch up your dead drops and meet up points with the group, if only to keep the peace while maintaining your most consistent client.

And now you're in this predicament.

Surrounded by Firelights, plus Vi and Caitlyn.

You had hoped, foolishly, that this was as similar to your timeline as it was gonna get, at least with the limited amount of jumps you probably had left. You were lucky enough that Other You here and Jinx had met previously, and already kickstarted the inevitable chain of events that would have brought them together. You thought you had time before Vi and Jinx would meet, which was due in a few days from now.

You thought a lot of things, but at the end of the day, that was all they were. Two Hundred timelines in, and you still had trouble dealing with unpredictable situations.

"Piltover is one bad day away from sending enforcers to find Jinx."

"Damn, I hope they find her, then." Ekko groans, clearly not in the mood for the clueless act. Caitlyn steps forward a bit too abruptly, you draw your gun, everybody draws their weapons. Caitlyn glares at you, daring you to make the first move. You're a good shot yourself, but you know from past experience that there was no way you'd beat her in a gunfight.

"Hey—hey! Easy!" Vi gets between all of you, arms up, trying to lessen the tension. Ekko nods at his people—your people—and they lower their weapons. You shake your head for a second, before lowering yours. Other You was being protective and reckless, you had to control yourself. The last thing you want to do is hurt your people.

Caitlyn keeps her rifle trained on you, you maintain your glare towards her until she puts her gun down. "This is pointless." She looks towards Vi. "I say arrest her, and lure Jinx out."

"Can't arrest me if you're out of a job." Caitlyn narrows her eyes at your response. Fuck, wasn't supposed to know that.

"What, you think I don't have eyes and ears topside?" You're fairly sure that she'll buy your bluff, purely because there's no other explanation for you to know that. Thankfully Vi calls for everyone's attention.

"Look, we won't get anywhere arguing." She looks over to you, a silent plea in her eyes. You feel terrible about all of this, of course. You know she's just trying to find her sister after years of being locked up unfairly, in Stillwater no less!

"I know you care about her, and that you're the reason she's been quiet the last few months." It takes a bit of effort to keep your face neutral, your mind already working to figure out just how exactly they knew about you and Jinx. Had you become careless these past few months? Was she careless?

She moves a bit closer to you, arms in a placating gesture. "But if she doesn't return the gemstone, or worse, Silco gets his grimy hands on it, then Piltover will flood the streets with enforcers, and it'll be another civil war."

You wish you could tell them that Piltover wouldn't be able to handle the Undercity now, not with shimmer already being weaponized.

"I don't know where she is." You answer truthfully. As close as you two were these last couple of months, you didn't make it a point to know her whereabouts at every single hour of the day.

Caitlyn interjects. "Six enforcers are dead because of her, even more people wounded. Are you really going to protect someone who was willing to kill so many people in cold blood?" She makes a move to grab you, but Vi holds her back. Your jaw clenches. You thought you had swayed her enough that she wouldn't have gone through with the Progress Day attack.

Vi looks over to Ekko, who has mercifully stayed quiet. There's a disappointed look on his face, either for your involvement with Jinx, or your indirect betrayal on the Firelights, you're not sure. He nods over to the other FIrelights, who all lunge at you.

You try to fight back, easily sidestepping to avoid the first person to lunge, then using their momentum to launch them into the next person. A third person tries to hit you with their club, and you narrowly duck under their swing, springing to push them off their feet, and make your way to the door. On any other day, this would've been a fun sparring session, but sadly it wasn't any other day. And this was quickly becoming a one-on-seven fight.

Ekko grabs you from behind and bear hugs you. You feel the air being pushed out of your lungs as you struggle out of his grip. You drop to your knees, using his temporary loss of balance as leverage, and swing your body forward, he stumbles enough that his grip loosens, and you throw the rest of him over your shoulders. You turn around to make your way to the door again, before a fist connects right on your jaw. That's right, Vi is here, too

You quickly fall to your knees, the room is already spinning. you pitifully try to maintain your balance while on all fours, hanging onto a nearby chair for support. Two people grab you by the arms and begin to drag you away, you try to pull your arms free, but are met with a kick to the gut. You relent, letting them drag you into a dark room.

Their version of a holding cell, tying you down and taking your holsters and your coat. You're still a bit disoriented, but you're lucid enough to recognize Ekko's shadow when he approaches you.

"I'm sorry it has to come to this," He starts. "But if Silco gets his hands on Hextech, the Undercity will lose a lot more people. Good people."

You feel your chest ache at his words. You've been fighting for the Undercity your entire life, that's the last thing you want. But never in a million lifetimes would you betray Jinx. "You have to let me find her, Ekko." You plead.

"I can't trust your judgment on this."

"Try." He purses his lips, for a second you think he'll let you go. You weren't as close her as you were in your timeline, but you hope that your reliability in this one is enough to convince him.

He sighs, and the spark of hope you have is snuffed out. "This is for the best." He stands up and leaves the room, two guards replacing him.

Normally, you would be flattered. Two people guarding you even though you were already unarmed, and it doesn't even look like they're changing shifts soon. They don't take your eyes off of you either, so you pass the time counting the seconds. They probably already left to go find Jinx, which meant you had to give them at least a half hour head start before you could try to escape.

The minutes pass by quickly, and once you're nearing the thirty minute mark, you start prepping your escape plan.

They took away your coat and your holster with your weapons, but they didn't take away your belt. Which was a good thing because you actually needed it to pull your baggy pants up, but also because you had jammed a blade in between the leather. A knife was also welded into the buckle, built to quick release with the push of a button.

You carefully start to pry the blade out of the leather, being mindful not to cut yourself. You successfully get your knife out, quietly cutting your hands free. your next order of business was your feet. You'd have to time it with taking out both guards, who were both about six steps away from you. If you were lucky, you'd be fast enough to cut your feet loose and take them down at the same time.

You hedge your bets on yourself, and quickly lunge forward, cutting your feet loose in one swift motion. Both guards stand up, and you toss your knife just close enough to one of them that they freeze. You grab your other knife from your buckle, meeting the one still running towards you halfway. You slide downwards, jamming the butt of the knife into his knee, then following up by clocking him in the jaw with it as soon as he falls down. The one that was momentarily stunned launches himself at you, but you expertly roll out of the way and jump from behind him, putting him in a headlock. You tighten your hold, hoping to knock him out quickly. He struggles for a few moments, before his arms go limp, and you let him fall to the floor.

"Not bad." You say to yourself, impressed. You take the keys off of them and their mask, hoping it'll help you sneak out. Thankfully, you find that your stuff is just in the next room, and you hastily put your gear back on before sneaking out to find Jinx.

She wasn't in any of her usual haunts, or any of your haunts for that matter. You realized halfway through your search that she was avoiding you as well. It made sense; you had gotten her to stop with the over the top antics for Silco, and you were sure she knew that you didn't want her to continue working for him anymore. So this… whatever this was, you were probably not supposed to find out. Unfortunately for her, you're keenly aware of at least some of the events about to transpire. Which meant you didn't have a lot of time left; maybe the timeline of events was sped up somehow? The butterfly effect tended to go crazy, who knows what got kicked into gear when you showed up here?

You're halfway to giving up and going straight to Silco when you catch sight of blue smoke come off of one of the taller buildings in The Lanes. A flare?

"She told me that if I lit this up, she'd find me."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere. She promised."

Your feet are already kicking the ground before you even register it.

She had to have heard about Vi being back. How the hell did you forget? The most important thing you didn't take into consideration before running around the Undercity like a headless chicken. Of course she would find out. If they had met Ekko this soon, that would've meant that this timeline had an entirely different flow from yours.

So much for considering variations in the timelines.

The entrance to the old building is bolted shut, so you start climb up pipes and rooftops, anything to get there before the others did. Your arms were burning, but you sure as hell preferred that than having to fend off Vi and the others if they got there first. From the last time this happened, Jinx did not have the best reaction.

You're barely able to shout her name once you get half onto the roof, but you push yourself up and run towards her, swatting the flare out of her hands. Her shock lasts only a second before she rams you in the stomach with Pow-pow. It only occurs to you now that you're still wearing a firelight mask.

"It's me, it's me!" She recognizes your voice before you can even take off the mask. Her hostility quickly dissipates, before being replaces with hesitation.

"I—What are you doing here?" Her tone is accusatory, but it's only half meant. You know she's nervous because she thinks you haven't heard about the Progress Day explosion. You pull her into a hug, hoping to provide some comfort, if any, to make sure she doesn't have a panic attack.

"I'll explain later, okay?" You say as you pull back, cupping her cheeks. "We need to get out of here."

There's a smidgen of doubt at the back of your mind that she'll go with you, but thankfully, she nods as you lead her off of the roof.

The both of you head to her hideout. Not the safest place to go to, but your house was definitely the worse option. You're not even there for a minute before you start questioning her.

"Did Silco ask you to do this?" You say as you set down Pow-Pow on a table. She looks away from you, the shame on her face evident. Your gaze softens at the sight, and you remind yourself that this is Silco's fault, not hers.

"Hey," You walk over to her and gently turn her chin to look at you. "You don't have to go through with what he has planned, alright? I'll return the gemstone, Tell them I found it rolling around in an alleyway."

Fear flashes across her features. "I can't." She pushes herself away from you. "I need to finish what he asked me to do. Then we can…"

You're tempted to reach out a hand and hold her, but you stop yourself short, afraid that you'll scare her away. "What is he asking you to do? I'll do it, just…don't go back to doing the dirty work."

She smiles at you sadly. "He wants me to build something with it." Her launcher.

"Jinx." There's a sudden urgency in your voice that catches her off guard. She doesn't know what'll happen if she makes it, but you do. You know who dies, and what happens because of it.

It's instant, how she recognizes what you want to say, just by looking at you. She walks back over to you and pulls you close, until your foreheads are touching. "It'll be okay."

There's a sincerity in her eyes that nearly convinces you. If you hadn't brought with you the knowledge from your own timeline. Your chest aches for her, how sure she is that things will be fine. "We can just drop this, Jinx." You say softly. She shakes her head.

"No. I can't."

"Why not?" There's a storm brewing behind her eyes. You know she doesn't want to do this. Maybe if you just—

"You just have to trust me."

"I do trust you." You pull away from her, ignoring the instant guilt you feel when you see the hurt flash across her face. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, your hand rubbing the side of your brow. "It's Silco I don't trust! We can just toss the stone into the harbor and call it quits—"

"I told you, I can't!"

"Why?!"

"Because I can't risk it!" Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. It takes you a few seconds, silence stretching between the both of you, before it dawns on you.

She was doing this for you.

You shake your head. "No. You are not going to do something you don't want to because of me."

She smiles at you sadly. She wasn't going to budge.

A lightheadedness starts to come over you, and you grab onto the desk for support. All of those timeline you had to go through, only for you to cause one to go through the same path yours did. No, you can't let it happen here. There has to be some way to stop all of this.

A pair of arms grab onto yours, grounding you. "Easy there, jelly legs."

You look up at concerned blue eyes, and a thought occurs to you.

"What if we leave?"

She blinks, taken aback by your question. "What?"

"Leave. Start over. Away from the undercity, from Piltover, everything."

"We can't just leave." She tries to look away from you, but you lean towards her.

"What's stopping us? I can get us an airship. Didn't you say you always wanted to ride one of those things?" For a second, you see hope in her eyes. You want to think that she's imagining a simpler life with you—Other You, you quickly remind yourself—away from everything that's ever caused the both of you pain.

And then It's gone, and she backs away from you. "You should go." She turns away from you, idly looking at her notes.

Anything she wants, anything she needs. Your jaw clenches, but you're dead set on this solution. It's the only way to keep everyone alive in this.

"Tomorrow, at the docks. I'll have an airship ready."  

Tomorrow couldn't come sooner.

It could, actually. Because the time between you leaving Jinx's hideout and waiting on your newly acquired airship seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. And now you were pacing around the outside, waiting for her to show up.

You shouldn't be this nervous, you know she'll show up. It's nearly guaranteed that she'll show up, nothing's stronger than the bond between the two of you. There's a slight pang of guilt as you consider that you took advantage of this, eliminating her choice in the matter entirely. But it'll be fine, this was the best way to avoid a war.

It isn't long before she shows up. She always does, but you feel the weight of the world lift off of your shoulders anyway. You waste no time running towards her and enveloping her in a hug. She holds you just as tight. You know how much she's leaving behind by agreeing to this, her whole life, her memories of her family, everything.

"We'll be okay." She whispers into your ear. You will be forever thankful for how well she can read you.

You pull away just far enough so you can plant a kiss on her forehead. "As much as I want hold you like this." You start. "You'd best get on the ship so I can untie it."

She chuckles a bit before pulling away—not before placing a chaste kiss on your lips—and disappears through the door. You move to hurriedly untie the cleats for the ship.

This is it. You're almost out.

"Stop!"

Almost out.

You whip around and see Ekko, along with some of your Firelight friends. You pull out your gun, absolutely loathing the possibility of having to use it on your own people. The thought of them harming Jinx does little to quell your inner turmoil.

"Just let us go, Ekko." You plead, pride thrown aside. "You and I both know it was Silco who put her up to it."

He shakes his head. "We can't do that. Not when Piltover is threatening to knock down our doors."

"So you're giving up one of your own?!"

"You think I don't understand what that means?" He steps closer to you. "Everything I've done was to help our own. Do you have any idea what it's like having to give up someone you grew up with, to save hundreds more?!"

"So don't give her up, let us leave!"

"She killed half a dozen people—"

"She had no choice!"

"Everyone has a choice!"

"You would've blown up a hundred enforcers if one of them threatened someone you loved!"

"It doesn't change what she did!"

"She only did it because Silco forced her to! Why hell aren't you going after him?" You lift your gun and point it at Ekko, who doesn't back down. All of your Firelight friends lift their own weapons, and you notice some of them gliding around in their hoverboards.

You always wondered what would happen if you died in a timeline.

Maybe it was time to test it out.

"Don't do this." There's hesitation in Ekko's eyes, but the both of you know that there's only one way left for this to end.

His eyes pull away from yours, moving to look at something just behind you.

You hear her call out your name, and you turn, oblige, anything for her.

She smiles at you, The softness in her eyes only reserved for you.

"I love you."

Dread seeps into your bones. There's no reason for her to say it with such finality. You know she loves you, she always does, she always will. You say it back just so she knows that you'll love her in every one, too.

"Take care of Vi for me, okay?" You nod dumbly and she turns around, walking back towards the airship.

The sound of a gunshot echoes across the docks, you think it's you who's been hit, the way the air is knocked out of your lungs, the way your ears start ringing, and everything goes numb.

"It's okay, you're okay, I've got you."

But it isn't you who falls limp onto the floor. It isn't your gun that clatters to the ground. It isn't you who's no longer breathing—not in this timeline.

“I was just starting to find you attractive.”

You stumble towards her, all but falling to your knees.

"Stop thinking."

Tears start to blur your vision as you try to reach for her hand.

"It's like we already know each other."

Your breath catches in your throat, you gently pry the Hextech gemstone from her fingers.

"I love you."

A sob escapes your lips. You can't let anyone see her like this.

"We'll be okay."

Your hands shake as you pull off your coat, draping it over her like a blanket.

You don't hear Ekko tell the Firelights to stand down. You don't hear him tell the Firelights to swear to silence.

You found Jinx before she could escape. You were the one who shot her. That was what they were going to tell everyone.

And you—you sit there, holding her hand, as everything else around you falls apart.

-----

Two hundred fifteen

"You need a top up for that, love?"

"No—" A shaky breath escapes your lips. "No, thank you."

How cruel must the gods be,

"Okay, you need anything else?"

To drag you through hell, then bring you back to the start?

"Love? You alright?"

The tears register a bit late, and you quickly wipe your eyes, meeting the concerned gaze of the man behind the bar.

Vander.

"Allergies." You blurt out. "They get pretty bad this time of year."

An eyebrow is raised, clearly doubting your poor excuse. You place your hands on your lap, safely out of his view, just so he doesn't see how much they're shaking.

"That so?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. It's taking everything you've got not to randomly break down at The Last Drop in the middle of the day.

"Yeah, yeah. I uh—I think I'll go blow my nose outside, actually."

"Hold on now—"

Whatever Vander says falls on deaf ears as you slide out of your chair, heading for the side door.

A wave of nausea starts blankets over you as you reach for the door and quickly step outside. You try to take a steadying breath, but there's a painful tightness in your chest, and all you can manage are a few stuttered gasps. Your vision starts to swim, legs collapsing from underneath you—the image of her blood spraying in the air replays in your mind—and you lean against the wall for support. Try as you might, a choked sob forces its way out of you. You clamp your hand over your mouth to keep your cries quiet, as your shoulders violently shake.

She died. Because of me. Because I was brash and reckless.

I shouldn't have tried to run.

I should have waited for things to die down.

I fucked up.

If I hadn't interfered, she would still be alive.

It's my fault.

"We'll be okay."

Your fist connects with the wall. The blooming pain in your knuckles provide a welcome distraction from your thoughts. So you punch the wall again, then again, and again, until red starts to coat the once grey cement. Anything to block out the image of her dying. Anything so you don't see her lifeless body when you close your eyes.

You only stop when you can no longer close your hand into a fist.

You hear the door open behind you, someone stepping out to puking on the side. Poor sap.

There's no way to make any coherent conversation with whoever this drunk person is. So instead, you gingerly cover your injured hand with the uninjured one, and push yourself off the ground.

You stiffen when you see who's throwing up in the corner.

Ekko.

What you'd do just so you could speak to him again. You miss your home, your friends, your people, your tree. Hell, even the grimy smell of the tunnels headed there.

When he's done heaving his guts out, he turns around and flops onto the floor, looking up when he notices you, and you lock eyes.

There's a disoriented look in his eyes, one you're extremely familiar with.

The door swings open again.

"One can't go shouting from the rooftops about being thrust into parallel dimensions without—Oh!" Heimerdinger shuts his mouth when he catches sight of you. He tucks the book he was about to hand Ekko under his armpit. "Hello there miss!" He chuckles nervously. "Quite a day we're having, isn't it?"

No.

No way.

"Ekko? Professor?"

It's Heimerdinger who recovers first. "Oh how wonderful!" He exclaims as recognition flashes in his eyes. "It seems the anomaly which dislodged us from our proverbial reality, also scattered us throughout time!" He throws his hands up, dropping Ekko's book to the ground. "But we're all here now, so everything is fine."

Ekko lets out a sigh of relief, before standing up and dusting himself off. "Man, I thought I was going crazy." Heimerdinger shuts the door again and begins explaining what happened to him while he was in this timeline.

Their conversation barely registers with you; tears once again well in your eyes. You walk forward, barely trying to contain the sob that comes out of your mouth as grab Ekko and pull him into a hug. You don't even try to stop yourself from shaking while you're crying into his shoulder.

The Firelights were a tightknit group, but you were always the less emotional, sometimes cynical one. So Ekko is understandably surprised and concerned when you're clutching onto him for dear life and bawling your eyes out. He holds you and rubs circles on your back either way, and lets you cry.

The door swings open a third time. Heimerdinger lets out a surprised squeal.

"Oh—uh sorry."

You flinch at the sound of her voice. Quickly pulling away from Ekko, you step back a few paces, and wipe your eyes. Your eyes stay glued to the ground, you can't bring yourself to look at her. Jinx's final words start replaying again in your head. There's not much you can do to distract yourself but to try and move your injured hand. It works, and the immediate pain keeps your grieving mind at bay.

"Hey, your hand." She speaks up again.

Fuck.

"It's nothing." You put your injured hand behind your back, grimacing as the pain shoots through you. "I…slipped."

A poor excuse, really. You're sure all three of them can see the blood stain on the wall, but you're not looking at any of them. So who knows, maybe they didn't see it.

"I uh—have something to do with Ekko and Professor." You keep your eyes low as you send a pointed look to Heimerdinger. He shrugs in response. "So we should really go—" 

Ekko thankfully mutters in agreement with you, but Powder doesn't budge. "Ekko! Your friend's hurt, and we have a perfectly stocked first aid kit here."

As if on cue, you hiss as pain shoots up from your hand.

"See?"

"Perhaps it would be better if you allowed Ms. Powder to take a look at your hand." You let out a defeated sigh. Not like you can blame either of them—they don't know what happened to you.

Powder tries to reach for you, but you step away and start walking to the door. She thankfully takes the hint and guides you all through the bar.

------

You're all ushered into the back room that serves as a storage area for the staff, which just meant Vander's children. Powder sets you down on a chair, while Ekko and Heimerdinger whisper in hushed tones in the opposite corner of the room.

Against your request, it's Powder who cleans your hand, and dress it in bandages. She's also the one to put a bag of ice on it to help with the swelling. You're the one blinking back tears or wiping your eyes, claiming it to be pain from your hand.

She's the one to make small conversations, that you give curt replies to.

She's the one to ask you about yourself, that you shut down immediately, claiming to be uncomfortable with personal questions.

She's the one that reaches out, you're the one to pull away.

You still can't look at her, so you settle on staring at whatever interesting item is off to the side or on the ground.

Eventually she gives up, and leaves you with Ekko and Heimerdinger while she goes back to work, claiming she'll be back in a bit.

"What happened to you?" Ekko rushes over to you as soon as the door closes, concern written all over his face. He gestures to your bandages. "And what happened to your hand?"

You shrug tiredly. You could really use a nap right now. "I jumped through one too many realities."

Heimerdinger pipes up. "One too many?"

"Yeah, like, multiple ones…" Your eyebrows knit at his question. "Have neither of you…"

"No." Ekko shakes his head. Moving his chair to sit next to you. "How many realities have you been to, exactly?"

You blink. "This is two hundred and fifteen."

"Two hundred and fifteen?" Heimerdinger drops his banjo and rushes towards you. "And you're still mentally intact?" He drags a chair towards you and hoists himself up onto the table. Pulling out a pen light, he starts shining it on your eyes. "Your pupils looks normal, and I don't see any burst blood vessels…" He continues ramble to you until Ekko steps in.

"Professor, give her some breathing room."

"Oh right, my apologies." Heimerdinger scratches the back of his head sheepishly as he puts away the pen light.

"Okay then." Ekko sits back in his chair, leaning a bit toward you. "So, does jumping through different realities make you beat up a wall and cry?"

Fuck.

"I…I'm fine."

A sigh escapes your friend's lips as he crosses his arms, a frown on his face. "I've never seen you cry, then suddenly you're a sobbing mess."

You let out a shaky breath at his words, muttering a complaint.

"Look, I can't imagine what could have happened to you in over two hundred timelines. I can't even imagine how much time passed for you—"

"Five years, and a few months?" Ekko's eyes widen at the revelation.

"Five years? No wonder you're acting different." He puts a hand on your shoulder. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me—"

"Yeah, well maybe I don't need help." You quip, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. The expression on his face doesn't turn sour. If any, it becomes sympathetic.

"A friend to listen to you, then." He sends you a small smile, and you immediately regret snapping at him.

You tear your eyes at him to stare at the door Powder went through. "It's…illogical and kind of absurd if we're being honest."

"If I may, my dear. We're in an alternate reality where our lives are drastically different."  Heimerdinger says as he picks up his banjo. "I think we've long departed the realms of logic and coherence."

You're hit with a sudden appreciation for your two companions. The familiarity, and the fact that you finally have people to speak with about your timeline jumping, makes you feel less alone after so long. And Heimerdinger is right, you're long past logic, so why not explain to them that you think you're meant to be with one person for eternity?

You run your uninjured hand down your face. "Do either of you believe in soulmates?" Ekko and Heimerdinger exchange looks, before turning back to you with puzzled expressions.

"Soulmates are a thing?" Your friend asks.

You sigh, trying to find the best way to explain. "I'm not exactly sure." A lie, and you know it. "No, wait, I'm sure. Soulmates are a thing, at least for me. I can't confirm for anyone else."

A look of realization hits Ekko. "Jinx... Wait, Jinx?"

"Yeah, that was my reaction too." You say as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"So you're saying, you're soulmates with one of the Firelight's biggest enemies?" His eyes are wide, you can almost see the gears in his head move.

"You know, enemies to lovers stories are usually a huge hit."

"You don't even read."

"A lot can happen in five years."

"Alright, children, settle down!" Heimerdinger puts his hands up in a placating manner. "I for one, would like to know how you came to find this out. How fascinating! To know your soul is tied to someone." Yeah, fascinating.

"So, how did you find out?" Ekko nudges you with his elbow. You throw him a scowl in response, before rolling your eyes and looking over to Heimerdinger.

"Every timeline. It was always her." You think back to the first time you jumped. "I remember the first jump I did. I was hurt, and she came running over. I remember feeling safe around her; I was only there for a few minutes before I got dragged somewhere else. And then, every jump after, I was either with her already, or at some point headed there. There was never anyone else."

"Was that all? Relationships that kept spanning across timelines?" The professor asks.

"No, not just that. I felt—" Feel. "—this pull towards her. There were times that I'd know where she was if we were close enough to each other."

"How intriguing." Heimerdinger starts pacing the room. "Never in my long life would I have guessed the existence of soulmates. And I've lived a very long life!"

"So something happened in the last one, then?" Ekko cuts in. Your jaw clenches, the reminder hitting you like a bucket of cold water.

"She died, in the last one. Shot herself, to protect me." His mouth falls open at your words, eyes widening slightly.

A heavy silence falls over the three of you; Heimerdinger sighs and walks over, giving you a pat on your knee. "Loss is already such a confounding and jarring experience. I can't imagine it what it felt like to lose one you're destined to be with."

"I didn't even have time to deal with it. I got pulled here right after it happened." Your run your good hand through your hair. "I feel the grief, but I also feel how happy the me in this timeline is when she sees Jinx."

"You coexist with the version of you in this reality?" The professor cocks a bushy eyebrow. You nod.

"Yes, it took a while to get used to. Even longer to manage."

"Well, if that isn't a shining example of your mental fortitude, then I don't know what is!" His enthusiasm softens as he gives you another pat. "You'll make it through your grief, I promise you that." He throws you a reassuring smile. And you feel your spirits lift a bit.

"You and Jinx, huh?" Ekko rubs his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I could see it." He yelps as you punch him in the shoulder with your good hand. "What? I'm trying to be helpful."

"Well you're not."

Heimerdinger ignores yours and Ekko's antics, curious eyes looking at you in anticipation. "So dear, tell me about these realities. Were all two hundred of them different from each other?" You shake your head.

"Not all of them were different, some timelines have very miniscule variations from each other, but are still the same with everything else that's there." You look up around the room. "I've been to this reality at least thrice."

"Incredible!" Heimerdinger exclaims, jumping up from his seat. "And how many unique realities have you been to?"

"Seventy-one, I think?"

"Was there a pattern you followed?"

"No, I just got jumped from one to another."

"How long were you in each reality?"

"I—usually a little over a week."

"Were there consistent behaviors between timelines?"

"I can hear you thinking from over there."

"Got something to say to me?"

You wince, shaking the memory away. "How big did the variations get?"

"Okay, jelly legs."

"Easy there, jelly legs."

"I don’t—"

"Oh, what about the people! How different were we from ourselves?"

"Okay, professor! Breathing room?" Ekko cuts in. Heimerdinger mutters an apology for his excitement. You pinch the bridge of your nose with your uninjured hand and sigh. So much for a distraction. "You okay?"

You nod despite obviously feeling the opposite—if Ekko of Heimerdinger notice, they mercifully don't bring it up—and sink a little further into your chair.

"Let's take a step back from the reality hopping, alright? We still need to figure out how to get home." He looks towards Heimerdinger, who's taken to plucking a tune on his banjo. "Professor, you said that Hextech doesn't exist here, which means there's no anomaly?"

"Precisely."

"Which just means we need to figure out a way to make our own Hextech." The both of them turn to you.

"I'm afraid once just can't go about creating their own Hextech, my dear. Without Jayce's notes, and the crystals—"

"Powder has a stash of them."

"—Excuse me?!"

"—A stash?"

The corner of your lip twitches, and you almost smile. But the crushing reminder that comes with Powder's name quickly grounds you. "She has them at her hideout."

Ekko's eyebrows furrow. "And you know this because…"

You shrug. "She told me, in the other timelines."

"Even so!" The professor gets in between you and Ekko. "Tampering with the Arcane is the reason we're in this very predicament! Who knows what mayhem we'll cause if we try to do it on purpose." Heimerdinger nods over to you. "It's a miracle we didn't have any physical side effects from changing realities."

"Well…" You say before you can stop yourself, causing Heimerdinger's eyebrows shoot up. "I had this thing on my arm." You pull the sleeve of your shirt up, revealing only the faded outline of the mark. "When I first noticed it, it was only my second jump—it was the same pattern as the one on our tree. But now," You run your hand over the faded outline. "It's just this. It was fading every jump I had."

Heimerdinger walks over and pulls out a magnifying glass. "Incredible. To think that the anomaly attached itself to you… Did you take note of any side effects?"

"There weren't any. I was disoriented the first few jumps, but eventually I got used to them."

"Well, if anything. This is a damning reason for us not to further meddle with the Arcane." He pockets the magnifying glass and huffs, Ekko and yourself understandably in disagreement. The latter stands up from his chair, frustrated with the professor.

"We don't belong here, professor. We have people who need us!" Heimerdinger tuts at Ekko and picks up his banjo, idly plucking the strings.

"You two just need to give it time."

"I've been jumping around timelines for five years, I've had more than enough time. I want to go home." The chair you're sitting on screeches as you push yourself off of it, and you start pacing the room. "Besides, I don't know if losing the mark means I stop jumping. I have a little over a week at most. The least I can do is get the both of you out of here."

A frown tugs at Ekko's mouth. "Wait. You mean there's a chance you can't come home with us?"

You sigh. "The conservative answer is yes. Look, we can recreate the anomaly here. We just need the—"

"Am I interrupting smart people discourse?"

You jump at Powder's words, and quickly retreat beside Ekko, eyes glued again to the ground. You don't miss the concerned look your friend gives you.

"Of course not, Ms. Powder." Heimerdinger starts walking to the door, much to yours and Ekko's chagrin. "You two take some time to get situated, clear your minds, and come find me afterwards."

Ekko shrugs from the corner of your eye. "I should get going."

You whip your head around to stare at your friend. "What?"

He puts his hands up. "I have to go uh—look at that thing you told me to check out."

You narrow your eyes at him. Did you miss some code word that was agreed upon? Ekko sighs as he walks behind Powder, you abandoning your quest to avoid looking at the girl in favor of figuring out what the hell your friend is saying.

"You get the thing you told us you needed, and then we can meet back with the professor."

"What?" Ekko looks at you pointedly, then at Powder.

Oh. The Gemstones.

Realization seemingly crosses your features, as Ekko promptly says his goodbye and shuts the door.

Leaving you with Powder. Did they not listen to your grief-filled monologue?

"Well, at least you're finally looking at me." She lets out an awkward chuckle. "Or at least, my general direction."

It's unfair, really; seeing the love of your life die in front of you one second, only for her to stand in front of you—alive and breathing—in the next. Her eyes still alight, curious, inviting.

And you, the mess of you. With your confusion, shock, grief, guilt; melding with relief, and the urge to hold her. The self-conscious look on her face already tearing down the walls you had just put up to protect what was left of your sanity. You couldn't even get away if you tried—and you've tried—because she'd follow you somehow, or you'd inevitably find your way back to her.

The bond of your souls demands to stay intertwined.

"So, do you need help with whatever you were getting?"

You blink. "Huh?"

Her lips curl into an amused smile. "Ekko said you had a thing you needed, that I totally believe exists by the way."

The easiness of how she speaks to you feels like a pair of hands wrapping around your throat. But it was between the friendly approach, or the concerned approach. The latter meant she'd ask why you were crying, so you'll just have to take this one and run with it.

"Uh, yeah." The words come out scratchy, there's an ever-present heaviness in your chest as you look at her, smiling at you. You clear your throat in an attempt to collect yourself. You found Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you have a week to get them—and hopefully yourself—home. You just need to push down the grief until then.

"You know anything about intradimensional travel?"

------

"So let me get this straight. You think you can create a way to transport anything from point A to B at light speed?"

"Not light speed, that's an entirely different can of worms." Powder rolls her eyes at you, leaning back into her bean bag chair.

It surprisingly took no effort for her to take you to her hideout; she even introduced you to Vi. A part of you wonders if this is because she felt sorry for you, but you can't really complain if it brings you closer to the energy crystals.

"Alright hotshot, what is it then?"

"It's more like—" You wince as you try to gesture with your injured hand. "—teleportation." You slouch into your own chair, resting your hand carefully on your stomach. "With magic."

She scoffs. "Can you do magic?"

"Nope."

"Pfft. Get a load of this guy, sis." Your eyes flit to Vi, sitting in her corner. "Sorry." There's a hint of embarrassment in Powder's eyes when you look back at her scratching the back of her neck. Only a second of confusion before you remember that you're a stranger to her here. "You must think I'm weird, talking to a plush of my dead sister. Which I'm not—I mean, I am talking to her. I meant the weird part, but if you ask my brothers they'd probably say I am weird—"

"I don’t think it's weird."

Another roll of her eyes. "Sure you don't."

"I think it helps." You say firmly, sitting up as best you can in a bean bag chair. "Talking to someone who's died, it keeps their memory alive, keeps me sane. Makes me feel like…everything's still normal, even though it's not."

Her eyes soften at your words; an expression you've seen thousands of times. One that used to give you comfort, now also draping you with the blanket of grief and guilt.

"You lost someone."

You tear your gaze away from her, choosing to stare at the drawer you know the energy crystals are stored. "I got her killed."

There's a shifting from Powder's side, and you turn to find her dragging her bean bag next to you, before flopping down and sighing. A few beats of silence pass before she speaks.

"When my sister died, I blamed myself for a really long time." Her eyes glisten as she looks at the altar she made for Vi, distant. "Back when things were harder for us down here, we did odd jobs from tips we'd get from Ekko."

A story you've heard hundreds of times, every version a bit different than the one before, but you'd listen every single time.

"There were these crystals. They looked valuable to me, so I took 'em. Didn't realize I dropped one and I guess it hit something." She sits up, hugging her knees towards her chest. "Next thing I know, half the apartment's blown up, and Vi…she put me under her so I'd be safe." You hear a sniffle as she suddenly looks away, not so subtly wiping her eyes. "We stopped doing jobs after that, focused on making things better here."

"I'm sorry." She snorts.

"Hey, I'm trying to comfort you, not the other way around." She puts her legs down, knocking her knee onto yours. "Anyway. My point is, she would've hated it if I spent the rest of my life blaming myself for what happened. If I just decided to be miserable all the time." A shrug, and she's standing up and stretching. "I sure as hell wouldn’t want her to blame herself, anyone of my family or friends really, if I was the one that died protecting them."

Forgiveness, handed out so nonchalantly. Completely unaware of the weight of her words. You almost hate feeling the weight lift off your shoulders; her forgiveness hadn't been earned, could never be earned. Not for Jinx.

But she still has the same soul.

"Alright, how exactly are we making your non-magic magic machine?" She says as she offers you a hand.

Still the same soul.

"We'll need to clear out some space." You say as you take her hand.

-----

Zero

"How fucking long were we gone?"

"Professor Heimerdinger…"

"There's Noxian's everywhere. What the hell's going on—Ekko!" You grab your friend by the shoulders, shaking him. "We won't have time to mourn the professor if we get sliced in half. We need to get home."

Ekko blinks a few times, before taking a deep breath and nodding. "You're right, you're right." He peeks his head out of the alleyway you're both hiding in, spotting Noxians soldiers pushing people out of their homes. "Why are they all here?"

"Beats me, but this can't be good." He ducks his head back in, unconsciously tucking the Z-Drive closer to him.

"We're you in any timelines where this happened?"

You nod. "Yes, but they were never in the Undercity. We were the ones taking the fight to them and Piltover."

The both of you stick to the wall as a group of Noxians soldiers march past, headed deeper into the Undercity. There was no way the both you could sneak back to the tunnel lines with that many eyes moving around. A curse is muttered at the thought, you needed to know how much time passed, and how much had changed in your absence.

"If only we could've gone back right after we left here." You rub your face in your hands. "I must've messed something up with the runes—"

"Hey, what happened to getting home being the top priority?" Ekko elbows you lightly on your side. "We can refine your rune work later," He points up to the roofs. "If we can't avoid getting to the tunnels from the ground, we'll have to cross the rooftops."

"Rooftops." You nod.

The both of you start climbing up pipes that are sticking out of the ground and around the buildings. Eventually making it onto a balcony, before jumping across the top of a smaller building. It provides you with a clearer view of the Undercity, still looking the same from where you are, despite the obvious changes occurring on the ground. The neon glow from various establishments, the ever present whir of the vents running through the streets, the gloomy allure atmosphere. Hell, even the smell was the same.

Ekko lands next to you, dusting himself off before surveying the skyline. "It's like nothing's changed from up here." He muses, reiterating your thoughts. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"We made it back...We actually did it." He looks over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Welcome back."

"Welcome back to you too, Ekko."  He snorts, giving your shoulder another squeeze before letting go.

"Alright, let's head home." Ekko starts moving towards the next roof, and you follow suit. Each step you take giving you more confidence. Son enough, the both of you are running and leaping across rooftops.

You greedily breathe in the air, not caring at all that most people would consider Undercity air to be polluted. This was home. After spending five years trying to find a way back, who the hell could judge you?

"Hurry up!" Ekko shouts from ahead of you. Grinning, you lean forward and start kicking the ground harder.

"I'm just giving you a head start!" You say as you easily speed past Ekko, who huffs and matches your speed.

For a moment, you forget about all of your worries. You forget about the two hundred and sixteen jumps you did, all of the panic you went through, all of the memories you made, the lives you lived. It's just you and once of your closest friends, running through the rooftops of your city—your city. Not a variation of it in some other timeline. It's the place where you grew up, the place you're trying to fix and make better for the people. You run past familiar stores and landmarks, feeling your nostalgia grow by the second. It's a freeing sensation; leaving for years, then coming back home. Seeing everything be both familiar and new at the same time.

There's a billowing of dark smoke from your periphery. You almost miss it, but you turn your head and spot the smoke growing steadily. Unconsciously, you turn and start heading to where the smoke is. Ekko calls out to you, but starts to follow when he sees it as well.

You stop dead in your tracks when you find the source of the smoke. Dread starts to build in your chest.

The Last Drop, engulfed in flames.

There's no thought process involved before you jump down and enter the burning building, telling Ekko you'll meet him back home. You don't even heed Ekko's calls as you slide through a doorway before it collapses behind you.

-----

Your hands feel around for your gas mask hidden inside your coat, a sigh of relief as your eyes stop watering and you're able to breathe. Navigating The Last Drop is easy enough, you've been here plenty of times in the other timelines. But the problem wasn't finding your way around, it was figuring out why you decided to jump in in the first place.

Was it the thought of someone being stuck inside and needing help? Or was it the feeling of dread creeping up on you?

The sound of crackling wood fills your ears as you look up, a supports beam starts to collapse. You quickly duck out of the way before it falls, having no choice but to push in deeper into the bar. You start to think—hope—that no one is inside, since you haven't seen a single soul as you went from one room to the next.

You feel the pull before you register that it's her.

But this one is different, stronger. Enough that you almost stumble forward, as if it's somehow physically pushing you closer. You feel it wrap around your heart, clutching it tight, almost painfully so. The feeling of longing rushes over you, not the small waves that you felt in the other timelines, but a raging current, crashing through you and sweeping you towards her.

You wonder briefly why the feeling was much more intense. Was it because you were in other timelines? Did your soul know that they were Jinx, but they weren't your Jinx? Will she also feel this when she sees you? If this is what every other version of you felt when they were with their Jinx, their Powder, no wonder they can't keep themselves away from her.

She hasn't even seen you yet.

She has her back turned to you, hands limply at her side. Her hair jaggedly cut short, just above her shoulders, which are slumped in defeat. An almost instinctive need to comfort her enters your mind, but you push it down. The first thing you need to do is get her out of here.

She doesn't react violently when you pull her towards you, telling her that you had to get out of there. Does nothing when you pick her up and bring her out the side of the building. The same alleyway where you two would sneak off to steal kisses in one timeline, and mourned the loss of her in another. She's too stunned to do anything really. Maybe she felt the pull, maybe she was just surprised that someone had gone in to fish her out. But she doesn't do anything as you set her down and take off your gas mask. Nothing when you look over her, covered in soot and grime, to search for any injuries.

The second you meet her eyes, you know, you're sure, that her soul is letting her know who you are. That she's suddenly fallen into that same raging river that you find yourself in right now.

The surprise in her eyes softens, the same look you've seen thousands of times, that you'd try to find wherever you are.

The pull makes itself known again, probably ecstatic that you've found her in your own timeline. Not that you wouldn't have, anyway. Not even the omnipotent force that created every timeline to ever exist can keep you from finding her.

CRACK

But maybe a broken nose will.

You stagger backward. A hand over your nose, eyes wide from shock and confusion. She's polite enough to not say anything after she punches you. She awkwardly stands there and watches you curse as you push your nose back into place, wiping off the blood with your gloved hand. Yup, definitely broken.

At this point, two hundred and sixteen jumps after, you should really learn to be more vigilant when it comes to tackling unpredictable situations.

You keep a hand on your nose, one hand up on surrender. She still has her hand closed into a fist, but there's a shocked look on her face.

She Blinks a few times, before a look of frustration is on her face. "Who the hell are you?!" Her eyebrows are knit together; if your nose wasn't broken, you would find her confused frustration adorable.

"I thought you needed help." Your voice comes out nasally, and you can almost feel the bruises start to form.

"I don't need your stupid help."

Stubborn.

"Well who just stands inside a burning building?!" She huffs crossing her arms over her chest. It's now that you notice she's missing a few things from her usual outfit; her choker, the string marking the X on her top, her gloves—and had she been crying?

"First of all, stop looking at me like that, you creep. Second, it's none of your business."

"I literally just saved your—" The sound of clanking armor, and boots hitting the ground cuts you off.

You grab her hand without thinking, and pull her farther into the alleyway, away from the fire and the soldiers that have started to gather. Again, she's surprised, but doesn't protest. She doesn't let go even after you've stopped running.

"We need to get out of here. I have a safe house but it's a bit far. If we start moving now—"

"My place is closer." She tugs at your hand to get your attention—your eyes flitting down the same time as her—and you both realize that they're still clasped together.

You wait for her to let go of you, throw your hand and call you a creep again. For a moment you think she actually will; you see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. But she still doesn't.

"Just... follow me." She says tiredly, nodding down a road and half dragging you to her hideout. She only lets go of your hand when there's a tight squeeze into a tunnel and it would be too awkward to walk in side by side.

Neither of you talk the entire way there. You don't ask her where her hideout is—not that you need to, you could get there with your eyes closed at this point. She doesn't ask you how you can easily navigate through tricky the walkways and hidden passages.

At first you think she's still processing how she's feeling, but you remember the tear streaks, and the way her shoulders sagged as she looked at The Last Drop burning down. You wonder again how long you've been gone, what had happened to her in the meantime. Even now, she has her head down as she walks. Her demeanor completely different from the last time you saw her.

"I can hear you thinking from over here." She says nonchalantly. She sounds tired, her irritation from earlier long gone. "I'm not leading you to some murder house, if that's what you're wondering."

You shrug out of habit. "I know, I trust you."

Her head tilts up just a bit as she stops walking. She turns her head slightly to the side, just enough that she can see you from the corner of her eye. "You shouldn't." She doesn't wait for an answer before she starts walking again, and you're left to follow her in silence the rest of the way.

There's a hesitation in her step once you reach her hideout, stopping right in front of her desk, hands balled into fists. She tries to take a steadying breath, but it comes out shaky and uneven.

You take a look around her space, noticing how brighter everything is. Not like the other timelines where you meet her as Jinx, not like Powder's either. The space was more cleared out, lights had been added, a makeshift fort had been put over her couch.

She picks up something small on the desk, you recognize it as a smaller version of the robots you two made in a few timelines. Her eyes are distant as she turns it over in her hand, before setting it back down on the table. She doesn't look back at you as she speaks.

"Why'd you help me back there?"

"I would've helped whoever was in there regardless."

She scoffs, turning to face you, leaning against her desk. "Figures with you people."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask as you walk closer to her.

"You're a Firelight." You halt in your tracks just a few steps away, a puzzled look on your face. She's never figured that part out in any of the other timelines, either. "I've seen you before." She adds. "You always have your stupid mask on, but," A shrug, as she looks off to the side. "I recognized your eyes."

It's almost funny.

You spent the last five years learning that your soul wanted to be with Jinx, and this entire time, she's probably known hers wanted you.

There's a myriad of questions that pop up in your head, but Jinx is still upset about something, and figuring that out was more important.

"Why'd you burn the place down?" She crosses her arms at your question, keeping her gaze on the ground.

"I was breaking the cycle, or whatever that means." She sits down on a chair, and starts tinkering with a chomper on the desk.

"What were you gonna do after?"

"Haven't figured that part out yet."

"What about—"

"Coast should be clear by now, you can leave if you want." Her tone maintains the same aloofness she's had this entire time, but her shoulders are tense, her movements as she works on the chomper almost robotic.

Even though you’re guaranteed that your souls are entwined in every possible timeline, you find yourself at a loss for words. All the bravado and confidence that you’d carried with you with every other version of her, gone out the window. You really shouldn’t be worried, you know she’ll love you, she always does, she always will. Even when she's kicking you out.

Only this wasn’t the Jinx fighting for Zaun’s liberation, wasn’t the mildly annoying Academy classmate that got you into trouble, nor was she the Jinx that waited for you for years to be ready to come back to her.

This was your Jinx. And you know something is wrong.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Her hands stop moving, but you can see that her grip on her tools has tightened, her knuckles going white.

She knows you. Longer than you've known her in your timeline. You're not leaving her knowing that. So instead, you finish walking the last few steps to get to her, your hand hesitating slightly before resting on her shoulder.

The dam breaks, as she drops her tools, hands closing into fists. "You're not safe here." Her voice cracks as she speaks. "Everyone around me—" She clamps her mouth shut and looks away.

Things start to fall into place. "You lost someone."

She lets out a bitter laugh. "I've lost a lot of someones." You see her blink a few times before she turns to you, shrugging off your hand in the process. "So you best get out of here, toots. I'm no good for you."

"I don't know, I think I've survived you enough times." She shakes her head, turning back to the abandoned chomper.

"You have no idea what you're saying." You sigh, getting down on a knee so your eyes are level with her. She's taken aback by your actions, her eyes reflecting a cautious but curious glint in them.

"I do, actually." A questioning look is the only response you get from her. "I'd explain, but I'll have to ask you to not to think I'm crazy."

Her gaze softens, just a pinch.

"Have you even met me?" Yes, you want to say. I've met you two hundred and sixteen times, and I'll gladly stay here until my knee is sore just so I can explain to you how.

"Not yet," You say instead, you extend your hand. "But I'd like to."

Destined souls or not, you're aware that you're pushing your luck. A smidgen of doubt starts to form in your mind, when she does nothing but stare at your outstretched hand. You can see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. Whoever she lost, it was enough that she doesn't want to keep anyone close to her anymore. A sentiment that you can understand, given that you wanted to stay away from any variation of her after you lost her once. But you don't want to leave her, not like this, not when there's a gnawing feeling in your gut that she's not okay enough to be left alone. So you hold your breath, standing by your decision.

Her eyes flit back to yours, and you hope the determined look in your eye is enough to sway her.

"You're gonna regret this." There's a pleading tone to her words, as if she's begging you to turn away and leave her. Fat chance, really.

A soft, reassuring smile. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

She searches your eyes for any trace of doubt, or deceit, but she will find none.

Her hand reaches out to yours, and you wonder if she feels the same spark of electricity that shoots through you when your hands touch.

"Grab a chair." She says, but inconveniently doesn't let go of your hand. "You down on a knee is too intimate."

You laugh, and for the first time since you've met her, you see her relax, a smile on her face.

"Fair enough."

And she listens. About Ekko seeing the anomaly on one of the leaves of your tree, the three of you breaking into Jayce's lab, heading to the Hex gate, you idiotically reaching out to the anomaly. You show her the faded outline that the anomaly left on you, and she gingerly traces the mark with her finger.

You tell her about your first jump, how your mind struggled with the Other You, as you crawled your way to cover. How you she came and saved you. You don't outright say that you're soulmates, simply because you don't want to scare her off. Not even if she probably already knows. She doesn't say anything when you first mention you two meeting, but you see her figure it out by the time you're telling her about your eighth jump. Her eyes narrow, but she lets you continue. Patiently listening as you explain, part by part, that in every reality, in every timeline, it's always you and her. It will always be you and her.

You're able to coax a laugh out of her when you tell her about your misadventures as academy students, she even teases you for being a stickler for the rules. She argues with you when you tell her that you always beat her in hand to hand combat "I could beat you any day, toots." Denies it when you tell her that she tended to sulk if you didn't give her attention, when she's be uncharacteristically thoughtful.

She holds your hand when you tell her how you lost her, how she sacrificed herself for your safety. Squeezes it when you tell her that the next version of herself is the one that pulls you out of your grief.

You explain the pull you feel when she's around, and how much stronger it feels when it's her. She interrupts you, then. Confirming that she had already known about it for a few years, right after she first saw you in a firefight. There's a blush on her cheeks as she confesses that she'd always tried to not hurt you after, and that she'd randomly seek you out to mess with you from time to time.

Eventually, she tells you how long you and your friends have been gone. What's happened to her since, about the attack at the Piltover Memorial, Vi and Caitlyn coming after her. How she met a little girl named Isha, and the strange little family she had formed with her and Sevika. You don't miss the sad, faraway look in her eyes when she recounts the adventures they had, their own little robot fight club, them making over her hideout. How they made a good situation out of everything, despite the Noxians and enforcers occupying Zaun.

You're surprised when she mentions Vander, and the short stint of happiness her and Vi had when their little family was able to reunite. She chokes up when she tells you how short lived it was, how she had been reckless in allowing Isha to come with them, that she finally understood why Vi told her to stay out of a fight all those years ago.

You hold her close to you when the tears come, and she shakes in your arms.

By the end of it all, you're both lying on her couch, and she's passed out on your chest. The physical and emotional exhaustion from the last few weeks finally catching up to her.

You spend the time processing all the information you learned; about the war, Viktor, Jayce. How there was a lot more weight now to the sacrifice Heimerdinger made for you and Ekko. You're sure he's already rallying people to join the fight, but from what Jinx had told you, Zaun won't fully unite until she's on board, too.

She's tired of it all, but she'll probably relent if you ask her. But that's an issue for tomorrow. Right now, you settle on holding her close.

And if only you hadn't asked her.

If only you had kept your mouth shut, and let her rest.

If only you hadn't put her in danger, again.

Your lungs burn as you run through smoke, not caring if your eyes can barely see anything, or that your legs are screaming for you to stop and take a break. You can't, not when you didn’t try hard enough to stop her, not when you could've asked her to stay instead. 

You make it to the Hex Gate, the smell of burnt metal and wiring fills your nose and brings you to a coughing fit. You still shout her name, at the top of your lungs, hoping that she'll hear you. You start to lift debris and stray slabs of concrete. There's only a numbness in your hands as you cut and burn them while digging our rubble. Not a care in the world that there could still be explosive hazards in the area. The only thing on your mind was Jinx.

The desperation starts to build with every passing minute, the pull in your chest is painful, screaming at you to find her. Even as the smoke slowly clears, the momentary reprieve from searching blind not stopping you from your erratic search. You continue to clear the rubble, your hands smearing blood on every piece of debris you touch. This does nothing to bother you, though. You'd paint every inch of this room red before you stop looking for her.

You collapse to your knees, grabbing onto a large piece of rubble for support. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Just when you find your way back, when you finally have her with you. Five years and hundreds of jumps, only for you to lose her again.

You lay your head against the concrete, as the tears start streaming down your face.

Then a cough, the sound of shifting debris and rock hits your ears.

You bolt upright, ears straining to listen. For a few seconds, there's nothing, and you almost thing that you're getting high from the fumes. But you hear a groan, then you're feet are already kicking the ground.

Smaller pieces of rubble start moving around, and you quickly claw away it, clearing everything away until you catch sight of a hand. You've never been happier to see chipped nail polish in your life.

You ignore the ache in your arms as you lift every piece of heavy rock, until Jinx has enough room to grab onto you and you pull her out.

There's a deep gash on her side, a few cuts, and bruises already forming. She starts coughing, but there's no blood. Good. She's breathing, alive.

"You regret meeting me, yet?" She manages a smile, and your heart soars.

"No, not yet, at least." You wipe your eyes with the back of your palms, sniffling.

"Hey, hey, easy." She puts a hand on your chest to stop you from picking her up. "Your hands are bleeding."

"You have a gash on your stomach."

"I heal quick, you don't." She shoots you a warning glare when you try to pick her up again, and you relent.

"I thought I lost you again." The tears well up in your eyes, and her glare softens. She pulls you closer until your foreheads are touching.

"Sorry to disappoint," She starts. "But you're stuck with me forever."

You fail at stifling your laughter. "Sounds like a good deal to me."

She cups your face in her hands, running a thumb across your cheek, and you instinctively lean into her touch.

"Help me up, yeah?"

You oblige. You always do. You always will.

[dont-look-its-embarrassing]

Inner Ace

This summary is a bit long winded, so I apologize for the pre-read to the actual story, it just gives a lot of contexts to where I am going to start the story off.

Summary: When the Archerons where all but banished to the forests, struck with bad luck and poverty from their once luxurious lifestyle, there was one person who cared how the family survived. Y/n. Having always lived on the edge of society and just above starving from her forever grieving mother and recently vacated father, she learned to keep her life afloat. Running into a young Feyre in the woods, almost mistaking her for the wind, elder (although only by a couple years) Y/n took her under her wing and became the mentor and sister that she never knew despite the two of them that shared her name. When Feyre was taken by the Fae, Y/n was distraught, waiting and searching the border every day during her hunts. That is, until one day there is a knock on her door, behind it stood the very woman she ever considered family, but she isn't alone, and why are her ears pointy? Who are these men with wings? Why can she not look away from one of them?

Warnings: slight swearing, Nesta AND Elaine SLANDER (sorry you cannot have one without the other), slight anxiety, alcohol mention, family reuniting fluffy feelings, (almost) instant attraction (Idk if this is a warning but some people don't like it moving quick), slow burn (to an actual established romance)

I do want to make this a series, as I adore the thought of Feyre having a best friend before the IC who taught her the ropes. Plus, there could be a fun little spin and some angst with a potential mate that is SO low hanging fruit to me.

Enjoy!!

The wind howled outside the thin walls of Y/n's home. The slight chill in the air despite being housed within them made her shiver and shift herself towards the kindling fire in the quaint fireplace in her living room.

It was bitter out when Y/n heard a knock come from her front door. Not expecting company, she had figured it was Elaine with some other excuse to get her to sway Nesta into doing some task. Responding with a small “Coming” she hustled to the door. 

Who she opened it to was not who was expected, but only someone she had prayed every day to see again.

“Feyre?” Her voice shook and she swore she saw a small shadow dart out of the corner of her eye. Blaming it on the still boiling water for the food she had yet to make in the kitchen, she dismissed it.

“Hey Y/n.” The smile that overtook Y/n's face as with a motion of open arms, her best friend all but launched herself into her embrace. The strength in which Feyre landed made Y/n take a step to steady themselves, but she didn't think twice to return the embrace.

“Oh thank the gods." her voice was a whisper as Y/n's habit of stroking the younger girls' hair picked up. Although, it seemed to have missed a couple inches as instead of meeting the crown of her head, her hand landed at the back of her skull. "I thought I would never see you again.” The last breath of air in her lungs followed this exclamation, followed by inhaling as much of the girl as she could. 

“Didn’t have faith I would make it back huh?” Feyre raised a brow before hearing a small chuckle. When that corrupt Fae had taken Feyre, he had allowed her a simple visit once (to y/n's knowledge, she never trusted Feyre's sisters to tell her the truth about her visits). Through this, Y/n was unable to see her best friend even the off chance she would come back over the border. From the mouth of the middle sister, Elaine, Feyre had asked them to send message that she was okay and not to worry as she would see Y/n soon. This was before the Archerons gained the financial backing of the very Fae that stole Feyre. It was a jarring image of a once fragile Elaine (although still beautiful) now adorned in clean and well sewn dress. The whole situation was still sour in Y/n's mouth.

“Not even. I knew you would get out, don’t discredit my teaching skills like that.” Pulling back from Y/n, Feyre couldn’t help the smile that took over her features, as if analyzing the girl's condition, before embracing the Y/n once again.

When returning to the oddly taller Feyre's embrace, a slight brush of skin coming from the girl upon Y/n's cheek startled her slightly. Only then did Y/n take note of the small physical change her friend had adorned. 

“Woah there," She pulled away turning Feyre's head to the side while scaling her appendage with confusion, " you are going to poke my eye out with this.”

Lightly flicking the now sharpened ear Feyre took in a breath, turning her head back and taking her wrist, gently pulling it down to rest still intertwined by her side. Sensing the slight nervousness from Feyre, Y/n pulled her inside fully positioning herself to begin closing the door, scanning the area to make sure nobody had seen her best friend enter.

“They kind of suit you Fey, but I do expect a full explanation." The breath Feyre held released and an easy smile lifted her face once again. She knew Y/n would still be on her side. The countless days they spent together, the things they learned together, the secrets they share. Feyre's body visibly relaxed realizing that despite all that her best friend had heard and experienced with Fae, she truly just cared that Feyre was okay. "Although, if you plan on going outside, I demand you take the hood I made for our hunts. The bigger one. I don't need any nosey neighbor seeing you and coming for your head with a spike.

“Of course.”  The door shut behind them before the Feyre realized as she lost her train of thought and why she was truly here. Quickly, as if the little lock clicking switched her brain back to focus, she rushed out a quick, “I have a favor to ask.” 

“Anything, you know that.” Y/n slightly scorned as she turned away to go heat up some drinks for the two of them in the kitchen. Seriously, she didn’t care about the trouble; she was just happy her friend was back and healthy (although the new appendages did have her at a bit of a loss). Feyre smiled before making way over to the small living room, sitting down on one of the now plush seats that sat around the fire. It was updated from when she last remembered this room. Back then it was colder, less like home, but the little decorative flares of Y/n brought the small and impoverished place to life.

“Me and some friends have to try and talk to my sisters into helping us win a war,” She stated. Rip the band aid off and all.

“Don’t see how they are going to be much help.” Y/n couldn’t help but mutter but given the slightly scorning glare from Feyre she raised her hands in submission. “Just saying’.” 

“As I was saying, a few of my friends need to rest for the night before going over there. Is it okay if we take a couple days and stay here whilst we try and figure out how this is all going to work?” Y/n smiled before setting a cup of warmed tea beside her friend.

"Are they..." Y/n didn't know how to go about asking without making it sound like her best friend was a monster now, but Feyre understood once she trailed off.

"Yes." Looking off to the side Y/n watched as her best friend's face bloomed into a smile she thought only reserved for when they were together. As if Y/n's heart couldn't get any warmer. "I do have to add though, they have some extra... Attributes."

Y/n quirked her brow in question, but if their heritage was any louder than Feyre's in front of her, if word got out that she willingly let them in, it wouldn't end well.

To put it bluntly, Fey was asking something of her that could get her maimed, tortured and killed.

“Of course.” She replied without much else behind her reasoning aside from the love she had for who asked her. Feyre’s friends were hers (despite the rather ominous implication of attributes) and she lived with loyalty for the girl. Plus, she had an inkling one of the reasons Feyre looked so happy and healthy was from these ‘friends’ so she didn’t mind as much.

Without missing a beat, the fae girl looked to Y/n with warmth and took a drink of her warmed beverage.

“I missed you.” Feyre spoke as another knock sounded at the door. 

“Have they been outside this whole time?!" The possibility of the 'friends' being seen while waiting outside the house sent Y/n into a flurry of motion to open the door again. With her Feyre chuckling behind her. Without so much a glance to who she was inviting in, Y/n had ushered them in quickly. “In, in! It’s cold and I don't need the town coming for my head sooner rather than later.” 

The girl didn’t even give herself time to process that two of them had wings and the third no doubted was simply hiding them as his stature imitated the other two.

Shutting the door, a beat of silence passed over the house as she truly looked at each man.

There where Fae in her house... Three rather large male Fae.

The attributes comment made sense now.

Y/n took a shaky breath with a wavering 'okay~' to follow before darting off to the small kitchen to prep herself and provide some hospitality to the newfound friends of Feyre.

Only for a second however, for she returned with three more mugs of the warm drink that Feyre was already halfway done with. 

“These are for you.” Y/n emphasized keeping her voice steady as she handed them the steaming beverage. One of them had glanced at Feyre in a slight question as she raised her mug towards him.

"It's better than I remembered actually." Feyre's statement had Y/n glancing over to her but assumed that the conversation between them had taken place a time ago. He had taken a sip with the assurance and nodded in appreciation at the beverage.

"Thank you." His voice was smooth, that with his partnered purple eyes, Y/n had shrunk slightly under his gaze. Although it was nice of him to show an appreciation. The other two next had also nodded along, Y/n didn't see them take a swig but assumed they had tried it as well.

“Please, sit and make yourself comfortable.” The human girl mentioned to the couches and took the opportunity to analyze more closely the people in her house. The one who talked was the shortest, but not by much. His stature was also the leanest, but she doubted it meant any lack of strength with the way his posture stood. Following him was one of the winged ones. Taller, in fact looking over him again Y/n believed him to be the tallest of the bunch. He was the strongest looking out of the three, with longer hair and red stones adorning his attire. The final man to take a seat seemed to be the most reluctant to do so. Adorned with blue stones that seemed to pulse with his slight nerves that Y/n spotted above his brow bone, she imagined he was just as hesitant as she was. His gaze was unwavering as he briefly met Y/n's, the color hazel had her lost in them. However, that wasn't the only thing that caught her attention, but the silk tendrils of what looked like smoke that wove through the air around him. Even in the sheer moments it took for them to situate themselves, Y/n found herself engrossed in watching the way they danced through the air.

It was then she realized she wasn't scared of them, at least not that one

As they placed themselves, Y/n met eyes with her best friend once more, catching the furrowed expression on Feyre's face as she attempted to read her. Upon catching Y/n's eyes trailing the last male, that notorious shit eating grin spread over her face but hid it with the ceramic mug still in her hands.

Y/n narrowed her eyes at the girl.

As they sat, purple eyes were next to Feyre, red stone guy in the middle and blue man closest to her on the homemade seating. Luckily, she had made another seat not too long ago when she was sick and couldn't hunt for the week, this was where she situated herself. Although, it didn't help that the most distracting man was sat not a couple feet away from her. Not that she minded, just the slight breeze of the darkness countered the heat of the being which already had her attention drawn over to him in curiosity. As the men with wings shifted the tug of nerves in her chest seemed to relax when he specifically folded his wings slightly behind himself to make room on the couch. If he caught her staring at him, he didn't make any motion in showing her.

“Normally we wouldn’t just crash into a place like this unexpectedly, but we thought the best idea was to configure what was going to happen these next few days.” The wingless one started, breaking the ice quickly and efficiently. Y/n nodded along and offered a small smile but glad that she didn't have to start the conversation with such strong presences in the room.

“That's understandable.” Y/n offered a small nod as she caught Feyre's gaze. One thing the Archeron girl knew for sure was that Y/n didn't want to step on any toes or speak out of turn. This was a new area for her despite how these males where family now to Feyre. So, as Feyre watched Y/n look towards her with a slight ask for an introduction all she could do was nod and allow her to initiate it herself.

Trial by fire and all that. Feyre knew she would be fine but a part of her couldn't help but glean with amusement as she had never seen her best friend so hesitant. Just as she knew she would, the human girl spoke up.

"I'm sorry, but what are your names?" Y/n had tried with all her being to keep her head about her and steady her vocal cords. For this however she suffered the price of being quiet. "I don't want to be rude and refer to you by your colors."

"Colors?" The red stoned one inquired. It wasn't taunting or teasing, but simply curious and slightly amused in tone. Without so much as opening up her mouth to speak, Y/n pointed a hesitantly to the man closest to hers' stone on his hand.

An almost silent chuckle from the said man next to her caused a small heat to run its course to her face before she sipped her drink quickly to cover the color that followed. It wasn’t unnoticed by Feyre who all but whipped her head to her and looked between the two of them. Her eyes widened and shot a look back at the wingless man, again that same smirk adorned her face. He seemed to nod her way before starting. It sent Y/n into a small spiral.

“I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court." The breath was caught in Y/n's throat. "Here you have Cassian, my lead general for my armies,” mentioning towards the red rock male accompanied by a small wave by the man. He seemed to try and break the ice slightly by offering a large grin towards the girl, “and Azriel, my Spymaster.” 

The weight of who exactly sat in her little house sat heavily on Y/n's shoulders. These weren't just Fae; these people were important and extremely powerful.

The nerves that were settling tidal waved her body again. However, with or without her knowledge, a slight breeze against her ankle had her thoughts disrupted and nerves paused as her attention was taken back to the more broodish male next to her. His eyes seemed to have been gaging her reaction prior to her catching him as he held the gaze for a moment. Y/n was thankful for the reprieve as she still let herself linger on his outline.

The Spymaster slightly bowed his head in her direction and she did it back out of pure instinct to brush off the ogling she had obviously been doing. Without noticing a small hand brushed Rhys across the room to assess the building curiosity and tension of the two.

Without Y/n's knowledge, during Feyre's time in the night court, she had recalled memories of Y/n and her while telling her new family about the few happy memories she had back in the human lands. The males in the room had all known about the human best friend prior, even holding her in a very high regard through the love and care that she had for their now high lady. As Feyre had gone more in depth with these memories, conversations over wine and late-night chats with the inner court had taken place, most of these concluding that Y/n would not only be an asset amongst them but someone's (specifically a silent-type spymaster) favorite person to talk to.

Feyre had insisted behind closed doors to her mate that the two would be a match made by the gods. Seeing them in person, Rhys couldn't help but agree.

Their personalities eerily matched, the strength. Hells, even their outward looks matched each other.

Taking a breath, the human girl let the conversation continue.

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you." Going on out on a limb Y/n had cleared her throat, "Any friend of Feyre is a friend of mine so please make yourselves at home and I will add more servings to dinner tonight.” Quickly, Y/n excused herself before she could make a fool out of herself once again with her eyes towards a certain man. She opened the pantry to grab some of the preserved meat to begin a marinade and placed it on the counter.

More hushed whispers made its way into the room from no doubt her friend poking for information, but Y/n paid no mind and allowed herself to become engrossed in the work ahead of her upon realizing that she would need to go out before the sun set any further to get some more supplies for the week as her stock was not enough as is.

In the other room, the high lady was all but giddy.

“What was that?” Feyre asked towards the shadowsinger. The lot turned to look at Azriel, all expecting some sort of answer.

"I don't know what you mean." Bluntly put, he didn't. To go more in depth with the strangeness of the past couple minutes, he had tacked it up to the budding affections for the woman based on the loving stories he had heard from Feyre, nothing more. Although the others where not convinced in the slightest.

"She seems sweet, hesitant, but sweet." He attempted to take the attention away from himself before Rhys knocked back the rest of the tea in his mug. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” He smirked and turned towards his mate. Cassian, ever so clueless, gave a shrug and turned towards Feyre as well.

“I agree though, she is nice.” He began, “I thought humans hated us.” 

“They do, you will see that when you meet my sisters and evidentially the queens.” Feyre began, also playing with the homemade ceramic cup as she had finished moments ago. “Y/n is different. She doesn’t judge and is loyal to no end. If you three showed up without me asking for help she probably would've shot you," Cassian winced but nodded at the image, "however she has made it clear growing up together that anyone that gained my trust has gained hers.” 

"Well, hopefully we can all gain another ally here in the human lands. Give someone Azriel can bunk with when he's over here." The smug tone in Rhys's voice was obvious. The Spymaster stiffened in his spot at the inclination and tease but relaxed upon hearing the girl return from the kitchen, realizing she had most likely not heard the comment. Although, he didn't understand why he was so on edge around the female.

“Now I don’t have that many bedrooms, and by that many I mean I have two. You four should be able to fit fine as long as a pair of you share, there are only three beds.” The human girl began sitting down ever so slightly closer, to who she now knows as Azriel, and then continued. “I’ll be down here on the couch so you all can have your privacy.” 

The aspect of the girl before him sleeping on an uncomfortable plush chair didn’t jive the best with Azriel as he watched Cassian turn towards her and give one of his show stopping smiles with a small ‘Thanks’ to follow. She returned it and then looked towards Rhys offering herself slightly. She seemed more confident now, settled with the information that had been piled onto her prior.

“If you guys want some privacy, I can go make myself busy for a couple hours. I need to see if there is any migration in the hunt this year so I can start curing it. The sun is setting soon so I need to go sooner rather than later” Feyre turned towards her with a confused startle, one that Y/n took as her calling her out on trying to leave. "I just need to be gone for a bit, it'll give you all time and me time to make sure you also weren't found." She attempted to assure, but that wasn't what had Feyre so obviously now upset.

“You still hunt?” The girl knew the dangers of the woods just outside the door purely because Y/n had taught her such, but why would she still need to exert herself and put herself in danger, Feyre didn't know. She was still young, older than Feyre had been prior to meeting Rhys yes, but why she would willingly still put herself at risk was a loss to the group. All of them had the understanding that a specific high lord was supposed to provide for the loved ones of Feyre. Call it protective instinct, but they had grown slightly attached to the girl, even more so now that they had officially met. "Y/n, why would you still go out and hunt. I mean I know you like your time and I this house holds memories, so I see why you stayed despite it all..." Y/n had tilted her head in question, taking a moment as Feyre continued to speak. "But you taught me yourself, it isn't safe out there and to put yourself in danger unnecessarily seems reckless."

It clicked with Y/n upon hearing her best friend finish her thoughts. The hunch that she had about the Fae and Feyre's sister's status came back into her mind as all her theories about her being left for the wolves (figuratively and literally) were confirmed. Sighing, Y/n placed her bow around her back, looking to Feyre with warmth. She had to try and break this gently as not to further ruin the strained relationship amongst her sisters.

“The Fae you bargained with said he would provide for your family, loved ones...” All tension left her as understanding emanated through her pores, it was almost palpable. He didn't know why, but as she met Feyre’s eyes made Azriel’s heart throb, “I’m not blood related Feyre.” 

"That shouldn't have mattered. I said family and loved ones. The aid that came to Elain and Nesta should've been extended to you as well." A small wince ricocheted off Y/n's features, but she schooled it back quickly as to not enrage the fae woman more.

"They needed it more."

The realization upon the girl's face crushed Y/n slightly and she backtracked quickly. 

“Don’t worry though! It’s not like I had any family to care for since everyone left so my sources weren't drained as much,” She winced as almost all eyes turned to her as she was not helping her case, “Hunting isn’t too bad lately and I have some leftover stock when I need it.” 

“He didn’t help you. They didn't help you...” Y/n chuckled before pure disbelief rooted from Feyre’s. “Ace, I am so sorry. I thought you would be involved in the aid or that they would make sure you got some, I didn’t mean for you to be left-” 

The nickname pulled strings within Y/n's heart, all the while everyone in the room had felt theirs crack and fill with flames towards the high lord of spring and the blood relatives of Feyre.

“Angel, it’s okay. To be honest it didn’t register with me either until the riches came for your family and I was left.” The boys glanced towards the human girl, one looked prolonged and had an urge to send her a comforting word despite his confused mentality. Rhys sensed the distress his mate still felt as she watched Y/n try to break the awkwardness as she slipped the bow off her shoulders and picked up her quiver. All the while Azriel couldn’t control the small lick of shadows that wrapped around her ankle and gently rippled towards her in a comforting manner, pulling her gently back to the sitting room and hearth.

“What is this?” She questioned before reaching out and having another small tendril wrap around her wrist and lay in her palm almost as if looking at her. The swirl of the black and what seemed to be a small abyss entrapped her attention as an Illyrian held his breath in a slight surprise. “Well, hello.” 

The shadow rippled towards her and ran up her arm slowly as she murmured at how pretty it looked. Y/n didn't truly know to what extent the fae's hearing could go as if she did, she most likely would have kept her mouth shut about the beauty of the wisp. Heat had flushed Azriel's ears, subtle enough to hide, but not enough for him to ignore the stir in his chest. Normally, Az would pull the darkness back, not allow them to roam as freely as not to scare someone by accident. However, with the girl's soft expression from her moment with Feyre, and the gentleness that she held her hands out to cup the shadow. He couldn’t help but allow the shadow to explore and settle before the girl’s ear. He allowed the shadows at his back whisper everything they found about her as they did their assessment.

Genuine. Gentle. Keep. We like. We like. Soft. We like.

For a human, Y/n was beautiful, effortlessly so. Azriel didn't need his shadows to tell him that much.

Y/n didn't know if this was offensive to partake in or just a normal weeknight occurrence with the dark tendrils. She had glanced at Feyre from across the room but couldn't catch her eye as she seemed lost in thought.

A breath in her ear startled Y/n so much she jumped. Someone had whispered in her ear, but taking count of everyone as they were, nobody stood next to her. Y/n naturally queried her head and listened further as to hear it again if it decided to repeat its' actions.

“Is it talking to you?” Cassian prompted, almost awestruck. The human gave a quick shake of her head, still remaining quiet.

"No, no. I don't think so anyway." Turning her head back to them again she shrugged, "It just felt like someone breathed against my ear."

"They are cool aren't they?" Feyre goaded from across the room. "When I first met them I couldn't help but want to know more."

"Feyre darling, when you first met them, Cass had to assure you they didn't bite..." A small thwack sounded in the room as Cassian laughed at the memory and now narrowed eyes of the High Lord to his lady.

“They are soft.” She muttered back, not truly focused on the now appeased atmosphere. “They feel soft.” A sigh escaped Azriel in a twisted sense of relief. However, without realizing it, that one breath costed him a split second of control on the wisps as a larger bunch followed the single to where it stood wrapped around the nape of Y/n's neck. As a physical reaction, he had attempted to grab it back, but to no avail.

Y/n had frozen, looking at the Spymaster in a slightly panicked fashion.

"This isn't going to like..." Y/n winced again but deadpanned her features to bring a little humor into the situation, "...kill me, right? I don't think they make headstones explaining 'death by mist' here."

Cassian and Feyre had let out a laugh at the image while Rhys let a smile reach his eyes. As for Azriel, all the poor male could do was shake his head, not trusting his voice. As he watched her, he could've sworn there was a twinkle within her eye at the darkness that normally shrouded him.

It did bring a sense of peace to himself and satisfy an urge he didn’t know he had.

“These things talk to you?" The question rung out of Y/n with confidence. Whatever nerves she had prior with the bunch seeming to truly run from her body. Rhys looked towards the shadow singer in confirmation, while again, Azriel simply nodded his head. This girl truly had him lost for words.

“Well do you all have a name?” The question was not asked towards the bunch in front of Y/n. No, Y/n believed to ask the wisps that were at Az's beck and call if they had a name. Azriel cocked his head. Did she just ask if the shadows had a name? The smile that spread over Azriel's face was almost contagious. A small giggle fascinated him from his thoughts and Y/n noted the ripple of dark that now snuck fully away from the winged man she was undeniably but in denial about being attracted to. 

“Is that a weird question?"

"No, not at all." Az tried to play it off, his image was on the line here.

"His shadows are basically an extension of himself Y/n." Cassian slung an arm around the back of the seat to turn more towards her. "It's his 'emotions and unconscious thoughts' type stuff that controls them if he doesn't think about it."

"Oh." Her face flushed. "Oops."

"Don't worry about it." It was rushed, but the assurance hit Y/n as she offered a smile.

“Az, I think your shadows have a new favorite.” Azriel shot Cassian a glare before slightly softening towards the girl. For some reason, he didn’t mind the slight intrusion. The aspect of her being close to something that could protect her and be with her no matter what eased an instinctual itch that he could only remember feeling towards his High lady upon her ascension. This ran deeper, but the itch was there, nonetheless.

“I’m glad you like them." Another small lick of the tendril eased its way behind her ear as the rest slinked back towards the spymaster and he immediately found himself focusing on questioning what they talked about and why they reacted to her in such a way.

Warm. Sneaking glances. Hope.

Busy bodies.

“Oh, they definitely have a new favorite.” Rhys couldn’t help but give a smirk towards Y/n before standing and asking where the rooms were for the night, he wished to wash up from their journey. Jumping, Y/n had corrected herself before reaching for the door, adjusting to the leftover sunlight of the forest.

“Of course! Where are my manners? It's up those stairs and to the left for you two.” She turned to Feyre, “You get my room. You know how to work the bath.” 

Grateful, Feyre bowed slightly and sent a wink before following the man up the stairs. 

“You two are getting the guest room, there are two beds which should fit,” She shot a look towards the massive wings behind them, “most of you.” 

Cassian laughed. 

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed! I am going to hopefully continue this with little inserts throughout the story to keep it interesting. I had a whole years' worth of one-shots that I am trying to re-vamp to this plot line, but if anyone has any requests do let me know! I don't have anything on my page about requests, but my inbox is open if anyone wants to shoot one my way.

[idkjustletmescroll]

Great explanation! I will say that of course we're all entitled to our own opinions, and I think that a lot of the problems people like me have with the show would have been fixed with another season or another arc, just a bit more time to flesh everything out.

The only real critique I would make of yours is Caitlyn's arc, which I think is just always going to be a polarizing point in the fandom: whenever I say I don't think Caitlyn's arc was in character, it's not because I don't think she's capable of doing bad things, or see why the writers would have her do it. I get it, and we saw in season 1 that she'll do whatever she thinks of right (like when she very, very illegally broke vi out of stillwater), even if nobody else will support her in it. I just wish we'd seen more of her actual spiral: like talking with her dad, or having to deal with the fact that she has seen people from the undercity as regular people trying to get by, but now, most of them being loyal to jinx, they're reminders of what she's lost. I would have wanted a messy, crazy psychological spiral with Caitlyn, that ultimately leads to her causing mass pain, like with the grey.

As for mel's arc, it was, of course, set up in season 1, but I just think the black rose arc is so far removed from the rest of the story that it feels thrown in there. I would have liked to see a more natural way to continue mel's arc and introducing the black rose, but as it is, it just feels like a waste of screen time to me, personally.

And the theme of the show absolutely is duality: order and chaos, magic and science, but also two cities and two sisters, which, as you mentioned, the story is centered around. And one of the reasons season 2 feels so disjointed (to me, anyways), isn't necessarily that there's a huge turnaround of characters, but that vi and jinx are surrounded by so much more plot that they don't feel the central focus anymore. As many plotlines and characters as season 1 had, it always centered around two sisters, their struggle to reunite, and the forces driving them apart. Season 2 doesn't feel so focused on the literal representations of this theme of duality: vi, the big sister, enforcer, physically strong; and jinx, the little sister, chaos gremlin, good with long-range weapons and her brain. One lives in Piltover, the other in Zaun. Etc. They didn't feel like the ultimate focus of the story, for me. Glad you seemed to enjoy season two, though! I just had a few gripes with it :)

I find it hard to participate in arcane discourse around season 2 because I just...don't agree with most of the writing choices.

Like, do I think gassing civilians is fine? No, but I don't think Caitlyn would have done that of her own accord at all. I don't think vi would have agreed to it. I don't think she would have decided that jinx had to die so early on in the season.

I think Caitlyn would have agreed to go to drastic measures to capture/kill jinx, but not to the point of harming a bunch of civilians over it. I think vi would have decided, at this point, that power is long gone, but would be angling to get her in stillwater or something, rather than dead. I don't want to argue about whether or not their choices are justified when I don't think they would make those choices in the first place.

Part of it's pacing, and part of it's clutter. As much as I love Mel, her black rose arc was completely unnecessary. Seeing Mel having to confront her own complicity with Zaun's oppression, and therefore with the current conflict; learning to navigate politics with Zaunites and their system; trying to keep her mother in check; etc. And then the writers made viktor's machine herald arc the end-all-be-all, when that was never what the show was about? Progress was a huge theme in s1, too, but it was always meant to help amplify and push forward the main story about two SISTERS and two CITIES. It was never supposed to be the main focus. And the actual characters suffer because they become whatever the plot needs them to be as soon as the plot needs them to become it, rather than having more natural arcs that would lead them there. If any of that makes sense.

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 7: Precautions

You and Joel deal with a growing threat as you prepare to take on a new role. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 6 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Mild violence. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.7k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

Three Weeks Later 

“You remember your talking points, right?” Quinn asked, watching Ellie closely. “And all the rules?” 

“No,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve completely forgotten the four things you’ve told me because I’m fucking dumb.” 

“Hey,” you said, giving her a look. “C’mon, kid.” 

“I know, I know,” she sighed. “Language. Yes, I know I can’t swear. I have to talk about how great Sissy is…” 

“You don’t have to,” you said, giving Quinn a look. “You should be honest.” 

“Then I’ll tell them all about how you make me do the stupidest homework and don’t let me stay up late and also don’t let me beat up people at school even when they deserve it,” Ellie said, smug. 

“No,” Quinn said quickly. “You can’t…” 

You cut her off before she got too far. 

“It’ll be fine,” you said. “Ellie, say whatever you think is best. However this interview goes, it’ll all blow over in a few weeks, anyway.” 

“Just try not to swear quite so much, kiddo,” Joel said, his arms crossed as he hovered between you and the front door, waiting for the reporters to arrive. “You and I both know you know better than that.” 

“But I like to fucking swear,” she smirked and Joel, you could tell, was trying not to smirk back. “But if Big Miller says so…” 

“Jesus,” Joel rolled his eyes. 

The doorbell rang and Quinn ground her teeth but went with Joel to answer the door all the same. 

This interview had been a last ditch effort on Quinn’s part. The media had latched on to the concept of Ellie’s existence and hadn’t eased up since the news broke. Photographers still showed up outside her school half the week, paparazzi camped outside the gym where you’d been training for Savage Starlight and would yell questions with Ellie’s name in them at you, there were several viral posts theorizing that you and Anna had secretly been lesbians and Ellie was your daughter together. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your breaking point. Quinn had the idea to offer up an interview to the biggest publications, one in your home where you posed for pictures and answered questions about Ellie, the adoption, Anna, the works. In exchange, they agreed to stop buying photos of you and Ellie as you went about your private lives in Austin. 

You hoped it worked. You didn’t want to have to uproot Ellie yet again. The whole reason you’d come to Austin to begin with was that Elise had retired here and you didn’t want to keep Ellie from the only blood relation she had left or ask Elise to move to whatever new place you decided to settle, especially if you’d just have to do this same song and dance again in six months to a year when the press found out where you were again. 

You were, at least, out of your brace now. It had been a close call on the interview date, Frank planning a few outfits for you - some designed to downplay the brace, others without worrying about it - just to be safe. But the fracture had healed well and quickly, not requiring a full cast or any extended time in the brace. You’d gotten permission to take it off at your follow up appointment a few days earlier and had been relishing your new-found freedom ever since. Your training for Savage Starlight was slated to pick up more now that you were healed but you were enjoying the small reprieve where you weren’t dealing with the brace and weren’t sore and exhausted every night. 

Once things calmed down with the paparazzi, though, you could handle it. You hoped, anyway. In part because, outside of all that, things had been going smoothly - even with your surly bodyguard. 

It was still a total mystery to you what he’d meant by keeping things “professional,” but things had definitely been that. Cool and distant, no more sitting next to each other by the pool late at night or sharing a drink now and then - things which seemed perfectly professional in your opinion but apparently weren’t for him. But, while he wasn’t wearing the watch you’d given him, he never snapped at you like he did the day you’d presented it to him, either. 

You took what you could get with him. It was a little disorienting, having someone treat you with such indifference - especially when he’d shown some basic, human care in the past. Not that you expected him to treat you the way everyone else did. You weren’t stupid, you knew that almost every person you interacted with every day treated you the way they did because you were famous and because you had a carefully crafted public persona that was only loosely tied to who you really were. They were either fans of someone who didn’t really exist but had your body and face and name or they wanted some proximity to your fame and all that came with it. Of course someone like Joel - who had to be around you all the time, whose job required him to move quickly regardless of your feelings - would treat you differently. But it still stung all the same. Anything short of the harshness he’d treated you with that day in your driveway felt like mercy and you were almost ashamed at how desperately you clung to that. 

“Hey,” you said to Ellie, reaching out and taking her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Her eyes met yours. “I’m sorry about this. And you should know that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can shut it down right now if you want.” 

She smiled a little tightly at you, giving your hand a small squeeze back. 

“I know,” she said. “But… this will make it all easier, right? They’ll leave us both alone and you won’t be as stressed?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you to do this because you’re worried about my stress level or…” 

“I know,” she cut you off, smirking a little. “But I’m also doing it for me. Fuck switching schools again, man.” 

 You laughed a little and rested your head against hers, taking a deep breath as you heard the distinctive sound of Quinn’s reporter wrangling voice from your entry way. 

“Well, now you’ll get an idea of what I do every day,” you said, lacing your fingers with hers. “See just how boring it is so you can tell all your friends at school that they don’t actually want to be movie stars when they grow up.” 

Ellie snorted. 

“Please,” she said. “I know you’re really off doing cool shit while wearing fancy clothes all the time. Definitely one big party, no work at all.” 

You laughed before getting up to go greet the reporter, slipping into the version of yourself that you shared with the press as you did.

The interview went surprisingly well. Quinn had handpicked the reporter so that wasn’t a surprise, a well known freelancer who didn’t ask anything too invasive. Ellie held her own, curbing her swearing (mostly, a few, more minor, curse words snuck in) and being her witty and charming self. The photographer posed the two of you together on your couch, by the pool with your guitars, by the kitchen island pretending to cook - even though you basically never did that yourself, anyway. 

Joel hovered the entire time. You could feel his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze sharp. He stayed at the back of the reporter and photographer the whole time they were in your house. His arms stayed crossed over his chest, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, your hand going to rest gently on Joel’s back, when the photographer was focused on Ellie and the reporter was reviewing his notes. “You OK?” 

“Fine,” he grunted, glancing over at you. “Just tryin’ to do my job.” 

“It’s just a reporter,” you said, raising your brows and trying not to smile. “I don’t think they’re going to bite.” 

He just made a disgruntled sound and kept his eye on the visitors, his whole body still tense. 

He didn’t ease up until the reporter and photographer were gone and outside the gates of your property. 

“That was kinda fun!” Ellie said. “A lot of bullshit but not that awful.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Good,” you said. “I’m glad it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.” 

“Told you you don’t actually work,” she teased. You snorted and she turned her attention to Joel. “Hey Big Miller, wanna kill some zombies? I was playing a level the other night and getting my ass kicked, I could use another gun.” 

You glanced toward Joel, still worried that, at some point, he would decide he wanted to keep a professional distance from Ellie, too. She’d grown attached to your bodyguard over the last few months, not that she would ever admit it. She sought him out often to play video games or watch a movie. You could usually hear when she got home from school when he picked her up because she was still laughing at something he said when she walked in the door. 

It still surprised you, how the two of them had connected. You hadn’t expected a - presumably - single, childless man to have bonded with your brash teenaged niece so thoroughly. Had it been anyone else, it would have sent alarm bells ringing. You had plenty of reason to not trust the motivations of men, especially around teenaged girls, but there was something distinctly safe about Joel and his connection with Ellie. And she needed as many people to care for her as she could get. You didn’t want her to lose that because of some misplaced notion of propriety. 

“Been a minute since we went and messed up some undead,” he said, noticeably less tense now that the only people in the house were you, him, Ellie and Quinn. “Guess we should go show ‘em who’s boss.” 

“Fuck yeah!” Ellie said, punching the air. You didn’t scold her for her language choice, instead just smiling a little at the two of them as he settled into the couch and picked up the controller - the device looking oddly small in his large hands - before going to find Quinn in your office. 

“Ellie’s got some natural skill,” Quinn said, glancing up from the Emmy that functioned as a paperweight on your desk. “She’s smart, charismatic. Got a hell of a mouth on her.” 

“Tell me about it,” you snorted. “Aren’t you glad you usually only have to rein me in?” 

“Wrangling the two of you all the time would be a bit much,” she said. “I get the feeling you just feed off each other…” 

“Yeah,” you laughed. “It used to be worse, back when I wasn’t actually responsible for her and we could just goof off and hang out. Drove her mom insane. I’m half surprised she wanted me to take her when…” 

You trailed off, a knot tugging at the back of your throat. 

“We won’t get any kind of prior article review,” Quinn said, sensing that you were ready to change the subject. “But I’m sure it’ll be positive. You gave them great shit to work with.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled, tightly. 

“So,” she said. “Ready for the fight choreo?” 

“Think so,” you nodded. “It’ll be weird, I think, but good. I hope good, anyway.” 

She hummed in agreement, nodding a little. 

“What?” You asked. “I feel like there’s something you’re not saying.” 

“Well, we have some timing updates and some new asks,” she said. 

“OK…” 

“They want you in LA a bit earlier than originally planned,” she said. “They’ve got the costume ready and they want to get you properly in it for a final screen test and fitting as well as for a few shots they can polish into a teaser trailer of sorts for the announcement at the con.” 

“Seriously?” You groaned. “When?” 

“Friday.” 

“Friday?” You gaped. “Thursday is Thanksgiving!” 

“I know,” she said. “But they’re pretty set on this and it’s already a hell of a truncated timeline given your injury.” 

“Jesus,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Fine.” 

“They also want you to attend the premiere of Scarlet Sentinel after the announcement,” she continued.

“When the hell is that?” You asked. 

“The 11th,” she said. “Just a few more days, it’s not too bad.” 

“A few more days during the first Christmas after Ellie’s mom died,” you snapped.

“I know,” she said. 

“And they know what happened at the last fucking premiere, right?” You asked. “Because…” 

“They know,” she said. “But you and I both know with the timing of the convention and the announcement, your name is going to come up a lot on that red carpet. They figure, better to have you there to talk about it yourself than leave it to someone else.” 

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I’m coming back on the 12th. This damn movie had better be worth it.” 

“Just think of all the little girls who will have a badass superhero to look up to because of you,” she smiled a little. “And remember that you’re the one who wanted me to chase this role for you.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I know. I’m guessing I’ll have my grumpy shadow for this whole adventure?” 

“After what happened at the last premiere?” Quinn scoffed. “Absolutely.” 

You sighed, frustrated both at the situation and yourself. Part of you was glad that Joel was coming, his presence making you feel more protected than anyone else’s - including the guards who filled in when he was off. But you knew this trip was going to make both of you miserable. 

Another few weeks in Los Angeles with Joel. Perfect. Just perfect. 

***

Joel ground his teeth, his head on a swivel. 

Was there ever going to come a time that he wasn’t tense and frustrated when it came to you? 

He doubted it. 

There was something inherently frustrating about you. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was but it was absolutely there. 

Maybe it was that you were insufferably, disturbingly stubborn. Maybe it was that the whole fucking world seemed drawn to you. Maybe it was your ceaselessly annoying habit of underestimating any potential threat when it came to yourself. 

Maybe it was the fact that, in spite of his request for professionalism and his newfound practice of trying to shove some distance between the two of you, he was just as drawn to you now as ever. Even though you were a bad idea, even though you terrified him, he had to fight to keep himself away from you. 

He had to force himself to stay in his room when sitting at your house instead of seeking you out. He had to stop himself from thinking about you in ways he fucking knew he shouldn’t, stop himself from searching your name on Google when he was aching and desperate and couldn’t think of anything else. On the rare occasions he wasn’t near you - when he was taking Ellie to school or on his mandatory days off in between stints of protecting you - he’d see something that would remind him of you and have the strange urge to text you about it. As though he’d ever texted you about anything besides business, as though you were friends. As though he was anything at all to you. 

Now, he was stuck sitting outside where you were doing some kind of fucking training for that damn movie. Fuck if he knew what it was, all he knew was that he’d tried to talk you and the trainer - some musclebound jackass named Alan who looked like he knew more about making punching look good than making it effective - into moving the training to your house. Alan had vetoed that. 

“No,” he’d said, shaking his head as he took a look around the space that Joel had worked with you in for weeks. “No, this is way too small for what we need.” 

“The hell you mean it’s too small,” Joel snapped. “What are you doin’, throwing a goddamn party?” 

The guy looked at Joel for a moment. 

“You realize that this is a favor, right?” He said. “That I’m the most in demand fight choreographer in the goddamn business and I’m taking time away from other work to come here so I can train her because it’s supposedly safer here than LA? I’m not about to slim shit down any further than I already have, I’ve booked us time at a private gym in the city, she’ll be perfectly safe there since you’re apparently incapable of doing your damn job in California.” 

Joel fought the urge to swing on the fucker. 

“She gets hurt because you need a goddamn ballroom to teach her how to throw a more cinematic punch…” 

“That’ll be on you, won’t it?” He said. 

Joel couldn’t argue with him. He was right, the weight of that settling in the pit of his stomach. Your safety was on his head. 

That was a double edged sword. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep you safe. He wasn’t comfortable with something like your life sitting squarely on his shoulders. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered him with other clients but you were different. In so many things you were different. 

He’d been standing in this stupid fucking waiting room of this stupid fucking private gym for what felt like a small eternity. Nothing had happened, of course. Nothing had happened the two days before, either. That didn’t seem to make a damn difference, though. He was still tense, still watching for any threat, still frustrated that you were in an uncontrolled space and out of his sight. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket and Joel did a quick scan of the area - including the parking lot that he could see through the large windows - before checking it. It only ever vibrated for family, work or clients, it had to be something important. 

He was right. It was a text from Tommy. 

Been a change on the Siren case. Come to HQ with principal ASAP. 

“Shit,” Joel said quietly, going to text him back when he heard your voice - sharp and panicked and muffled by the door. 

His body reacted before his mind caught up. He reached the door before he fully realized what he was doing, damn near ripping the thing off its hinges and racing into the room where you were training. 

You were flat on your back in the middle of the room, mats on the floor to cushion any falls, and Alan was on top of you. He was straddling you, his knees astride your hips, his hands on your throat, holding you down. Your hands were on his chest, face twisted into a snarl as you shoved at him but the man was bigger than you, stronger than you and Joel had to stop him. 

He ran for you with a roar, tucking his shoulder and slamming into the other man, the mats on the ground cushioning their fall as they tumbled. 

“What the fuck!” Alan yelled as they came to a stop, Joel shoving the other man into the ground and pinning him. 

“Joel!” You yelled but he was focused on the man below him. 

“I don’t know what -“ Alan began but Joel cut him off with a punch, sharp against the man’s cheek, sending his head whipping around. 

“Joel!” You caught his elbow as he went to punch again and he let you pull him back, Alan groaning on the floor. You tugged Joel to his feet and he panted for breath, looking down at the man who’d been hurting you, the man who he wanted to hurt more. But, for now, he wasn’t going anywhere and Joel turned his attention to you. 

Your eyes were wide, your skin slick with sweat and your hand had gone from the crook of his arm to his side when he turned and the weight of your palm was heavy on him. But you were alive. He could breathe. 

“Joel…” you panted, almost like a question. His hand went to your cheek, your skin warm. He tilted your head gently, looking over your neck, trying to see any damage. 

“He hurt you?” He asked, voice rough. “You OK?” 

“What?” You asked, gaping at him. 

“Did he hurt you,” he said again. 

“No!” You shook yourself free of Joel’s hold on you. “No, he didn’t hurt me! It was fucking fight choreography!” 

You ducked around Joel and rushed toward Alan, kneeling beside him as he sat up, holding his face and adjusting his jaw. 

“Fuck,” Joel said quietly, wincing as he watched you gingerly examine the other man, the two of you talking low, your back to Joel the whole time. 

He should be more embarrassed about this and part of him was but he couldn’t help but just be relieved. You were safe. He didn’t need to see you hurting, didn’t need to live in that shock of fear that had all but swallowed him when he saw you on the ground, your life in the hands of another man. You were alive, you were safe. That was all that mattered, he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about anything else. 

After a minute, Alan looked ready to get up and Joel approached him cautiously, your trainer’s eyes narrowing at him. 

“Sorry,” Joel said awkwardly, offering him his hand. “Didn’t know… Never had a job with an actress before…” 

“S’alright,” he said before taking Joel’s hand. He pulled him to his feet and he cracked his neck. “I’ve taken worse hits but damn, man, you hit like a fucking hammer.” 

Joel caught a glimpse of you rolling your eyes off to the side and he smirked a little. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “Might be your job to make it look good, it’s my job to knock someone on their ass and keep ‘em there.” 

“You’re damn good at it,” he said before turning to you. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to say we call it early.” 

“Of course,” you said quickly. “Again, I’m so sorry, I…” 

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, laughing a little. “Does me good to take a hit now and then in my line of work. You should be more than prepped for the shots they want to get later this week but I’ll be in LA if you run into any issues. Now I’m going to head back to my hotel to ice my face and try to think of the best way to explain this to my wife when she picks me up from the airport.” 

“We need to go, anyway,” Joel said and you frowned. “Got a text from Tommy, told to bring you to HQ as soon as possible so that’s where we’re headed.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, exasperated. “Let’s just run home first so I can change…” 

“No,” he cut you off. “We’re going straight there.” 

“But I’m disgusting!” You said, arms out at your sides as if to prove your point. “I’m not about to go to a meeting when I’m dripping sweat, that’s just…” 

“Don’t matter,” Joel said. 

“Is everything OK?” Alan asked, looking between the two of you. 

You answered before Joel got a chance to respond. 

“It’s fine,” you said, shooting Joel a look that almost dared him to talk. “He just loves to make my life difficult, it’s his favorite hobby, so he’s using this as an excuse.” 

Joel quirked his jaw but bit his tongue. 

“Come on, Siren,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

He watched as you stalked off to get your bag and water bottle, snatching them up with an almost comically angry look on your face as you did. He made you stay behind him while he surveyed the small parking lot before keeping you safely hidden from view from as much of the broader world as he could until he got you to the car. 

You reminded him of Ellie as he started the drive to the office, your arms crossed tight over your chest, staring straight ahead with your eyes narrowed. It would be intimidating if you were more… well, intimidating. On you it was almost comical, like watching a lion cub try and snarl at a threat. 

“That was mortifying,” you said eventually, your fingers digging into your upper arms so hard that Joel could see the indentations in your flesh. “Completely fucking embarrassing, I can’t believe…” 

“Can’t believe I did my job?” Joel asked. “Can’t believe I tried to keep you safe? Shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to you at this point, Siren, been doin’ this for a few months now.” 

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped. “That was not you doing your fucking job, that was you losing your temper for who knows what reason and…” 

“That was me intervening when you were in danger,” Joel snapped back. “How the hell was I supposed to know that guy was supposed to be fuckin’ choking you out? And you, what? Expect me to just sit there and let it happen? Jesus.” 

“This is why I don’t need a fucking bodyguard,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Let alone one who doesn’t know the fucking industry. I fake die sometimes, too, Joel, you going to call 911? Plan my funeral?” 

Joel ignored you, clenching his jaw as he called Tommy. 

“Yeah,” Tommy said by way of greeting. 

“One minute out,” Joel said. 

“You’re gettin’ an escort in,” Tommy said. 

Joel frowned. 

“That serious?” 

“We’ll discuss it when you get here,” Tommy said. “Just… being cautious.” 

A team of four men met the car when Joel pulled up to the building where Tommy’s business was based. He passed the keys to one and fell into formation around you, immediately at your right as the four men surrounded you, blocking you from any view from passing or the random pedestrian. 

“This is such overkill,” you muttered. 

“Better over kill than you killed,” Joel glared at you as you rolled your eyes. 

But Joel did feel like he could relax a little now that the two of you were in the office. This was a controlled space, you weren’t at risk here. You might be pissed at him but he’d take that. If you were safe, alive? Pissed he could handle. 

Tommy seemed prepared for it, at least, not shaken by your sour attitude. 

“Joel,” Tommy nodded to him before looking to you. “Ma’am.” 

“You’ll have to excuse the fact that I smell like a gym sock,” you said, clearly pissed but trying to control yourself. “Someone didn’t let me shower or change before coming here.” 

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Tommy said. “I got Quinn on the line, I’m gonna loop her into this conversation, too…” 

He switched on the speaker phone. 

“We’re all here now,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We OK to get started?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Lay things out.” 

You frowned and glanced at Joel, as if he’d have any better idea about what this was going to be about than you did. He just frowned, too. 

“This was sent to your address here in Austin,” Tommy said, dropping a printed image of a letter on the other side of his desk, closer to you and Joel. You stepped forward and picked it up, Joel looking over your shoulder at it. “Police have the original.” 

It was a note, like the ones before. 

I love your home. I can’t wait to share it with you. But why do you have other men spending the night? They won’t love you like I love you. Don’t you know that? Don’t you see? 

If I can’t have you, no one will. 

Joel’s hand trembled as he took the copy from you, tracing the words over and over. 

If I can’t have you, no one will. 

For a moment - just a moment - Joel had that vision of you again. The one that had come to his dreams more often than he cared to admit, the one where he couldn’t save you. 

There was someone out there who wanted you, wanted you so badly they were willing to kill to have you and what if he couldn’t stop them? What if they got to you when he was off for a few days, what if something happened when you were just out of reach? What if all he could do was stand there and watch you die? 

“Well someone’s getting ballsy, isn’t he?” You said wryly. 

“You don’t sound like you’re taking this seriously,” Quinn said, the sharpness in her tone apparent even through the crackle of the speaker phone. 

“Probably because I’m not,” you shrugged, crossing your arms over your torso, your chin raised defiantly. “He’s just some weirdo. He knew where I lived in LA, too, and was too cowardly to show his fucking face, what difference does it make if he’s got my Austin address?”

“We’re going to tighten up security,” Tommy said, looking around you to Joel. 

“Tighten up?” You gaped at him before Joel had a chance to respond. “Tighten up how! Someone already follows me everywhere I go, is he supposed to, what, chase me into the bathroom when I take a piss now, too? This is insane! Quinn, tell them they’re insane!”

“It’s not insane,” Quinn said. “He’s escalating, there are valid concerns for your safety and we’re going to take the appropriate precautions. Maybe you should hear what those precautions are before you fly off the handle about it.” 

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes before you sighed. “Fine. Alright, what else am I going to have to fucking give up.” 

Joel’s jaw twitched but he remained silent, watching you closely as his brother started reviewing the changes. 

“Biggest one will be you’re never on the exterior of your home alone,” Tommy said. 

“I’m already never alone outside my house!” You gaped at him. 

“You’re never alone when you leave your property,” Tommy corrected. “But you’ve been able to go outside, swim, run, take a walk on your own as long as you stayed on your property. That will no longer be the case.” 

“Seriously?” You looked between Tommy and Joel, aghast. “I can’t step outside my own front door unsupervised? What am I, a toddler?” 

“We will also be stepping up who is on hand at your home,” Tommy said, ignoring your protests. “We’ll be doing more frequent perimeter checks and generally have a more active presence there. But that will be less obtrusive, you will still have just one body man when you leave the property for most outings.” 

“What about when I’m in LA?” You asked. 

“You ain’t serious,” Joel said before Tommy had a chance to answer. “You’re not still goin’ to fucking California, not after that letter.”

“Yes, I am,” you said. “I have to do some early shots in two days, the con is a week after that, followed by…” 

“And you can’t do any of it if you’re fuckin’ dead!” Joel snapped. “So you’re staying here, not goin’ to where that asshole is!” 

“No, she’s not,” Quinn said, a sense of finality in her voice. “She’s going to LA…” 

“You really willing to put her fucking life on the line for a goddamn movie?” Joel snapped, louder than he’d meant to but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. “You’re gonna let her get hurt, get killed so you assholes can make a few bucks?” 

“She won’t be at risk if…” 

“Not at risk?” Joel cut Quinn off. “If she ain’t at risk then why am I here!” 

“She is actually in the fucking room if you assholes would fucking listen to her!” You yelled, Joel turning to face you, shocked. He didn’t think he’d ever heard you yell like that before. “I’m going to LA.” 

Joel went to protest but you wouldn’t let him. 

“No!” You snapped, rounding on him. “I’m going to LA! I’m going to LA, I’m going to do my fucking job and I’m going to go to the con and the goddamn movie premiere and then I’m going to come home and spend Christmas with my niece and you’re going to stay out of my fucking way!” 

“Well that’s where you’re wrong,” Quinn said. 

“What?” You asked, still sounding pissed but not yelling now. 

“He won’t be out of your way,” Quinn said wryly. “Because he’s coming with you to everything.” 

“Well obviously,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He’s been doing that.” 

“I mean,” Quinn continued. “He’s going to come with you to the premiere. As your date.” 

You and Joel both stood silently for a moment, dumbstruck. 

“What,” Joel said eventually. 

“You’re going to the premiere as her date,” Tommy said this time, looking between the two of you. “They decided they need you there,” he said, nodding to you. “And last one was enough of an opening that you got hurt but having you walk the red carpet with a bodyguard isn’t really an option. So, we keep Joel close - as your date - and he keeps you safe.” 

“No,” Joel shook his head. “No, the answer is she don’t go to the damn premiere, not sending me along with her like I’m some kind of goddamn undercover agent or some shit, this ain’t…” 

“Can’t I just go with Chris or Justice or something?” You asked and Joel tried to ignore how his stomach turned at the thought of you with either of those fucking guys on your arm. “We just tell them what’s going on and…” 

“Someone who isn’t trained ain’t gonna cut it,” Tommy shook his head. “It has to be Joel.” 

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Fine,” you said. “If that’s what it takes? Fine.” 

“This is a bad fuckin’ idea,” Joel muttered. “I don’t…” 

“Oh, come on Big Miller,” you said, your tone shifting to something more familiar, that dry, sarcastic edge to it he’d come to know well. “Didn’t you know? I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. There are men who would kill to be in your shoes.” 

“Yeah,” Joel muttered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” 

He didn’t press the subject when the two of you got back to your house that night, the new cadence of protection already kicking in, more guards obvious at the perimeter of your property. You didn’t wait for Joel to open the car door for you - something you’d become more willing to do as time had passed. Instead you just stormed off toward the house, Joel following quickly behind you. Before he had the chance to lecture you about it, you looked back over your shoulder to him. 

“I’m going in the pool,” you snapped. “Since you apparently have to fucking babysit me anytime I step foot out my goddamn door now.” 

He expected you to go get changed into a swimsuit but you didn’t. Instead you just stalked straight through the entry way, the living room, out the back of the house, stepping out of your shoes as went, walking straight to the water’s edge without pausing and jumping in fully clothed. 

Joel stood and watched, worried for a moment when you didn’t surface immediately. But then you screamed under the water, the sound muffled and distorted and sounding almost desperate. You went quiet and surfaced, immediately going to a ladder and pulling yourself up, more stalking toward the house than walking, eyes straight ahead like Joel wasn’t even there, leaving a trail of water on the floor in your wake as you went to your bedroom and closed the door. 

Joel tried to ignore the tug of concern in his chest. He picked up Ellie from school - the kid so excited about having a few days off for Thanksgiving and seeing her grandmother - and played a video game with her. You didn’t come out of your room. He kept hoping to hear some sign of you when he went to his own room, even as he was desperate for some distance, and he thought he heard you come out at one point. Just your quiet steps in bare feet and the cadence of talking just out of reach of where really hear it. 

He tried to let that soothe him. You clearly didn’t want anything to do with him - not that he blamed you, he had literally asked for this - but he couldn’t help but worry as he stared at his ceiling. You were upset but you’d left your room, talked to Ellie, hopefully eaten something. That was… it was fine. Good, even. He didn’t need to be a part of it or see it for himself and he’d done everything he could to make sure that here, within these walls, you were safe. 

That thought didn’t help him actually, really rest, though. He started to drift off and the image of you, pinned down with a man’s hands around your throat took over. But this time, he was always too far away to fix it. He’d run and run and run but it was like he was moving through Jell-o, not able to reach you but not able to look away. 

He jerked awake, his heart racing in his chest, and he sighed, wiping a layer of sweat away from his face. 

It was late now, quiet in the house. He debated it, for a moment, but not for long, getting up and going to the kitchen for a drink. But when he passed the hall with your room and office, he saw a soft glow around your office door. He frowned at that, going to the kitchen and grabbing two beers before going to that glowing door. He hesitated for a moment. He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew better. He was the one who asked for a professional distance, he was the one who knew this couldn’t go anywhere good. But… you were right there, the comfort of knowing you were OK so close. 

He knocked. 

You were silent for a moment, long enough that he considered just going back to his room when you spoke. 

“Come in.” 

He did, finding you tucked into a corner of the couch that sat below the window, a tablet and papers spread on every surface around you. You seemed almost surprised to see him, your eyebrows rising as you looked at him through your lashes, not fully looking up from something that was sitting open on your lap. 

“I thought you might be Ellie,” you said. “Can I help you?”

He shrugged. 

“Saw the light,” he said, handing you the bottle, staying far enough away from you that he had to stretch to reach and you had to reach back to take it. “Thought you might… I dunno.” 

You nodded slowly, opening the beer and taking long pull. 

“Thanks,” you said, adjusting enough that the pages spread on the couch around you rustled. Joel just nodded, opening his own beer and taking a sip, too. He didn’t taste it much, one hand shoved in the pocket of his pajama pants as he walked slowly through your office, taking everything in. He was rarely in this room, he didn’t know it well. There was an Emmy on your desk and three more on a bookshelf. There were two Golden Globes, too, all in better shape than the Oscar was. He frowned at that. 

“How many of these damn things do you have?” He asked, glancing back over his shoulder to you. 

“Emmys?” You asked. “Just the four. Three for Siren and then one for Family Tree. That was my first one, they gave me some meatier things once I was in my teens. Some ‘very special episode’ type bullshit. One where I had to decide whether or not to have sex with my high school boyfriend, that sort of thing. The television academy ate it up. Then there are the Globes - one for Siren, one for The District - and there’s a SAG in my office in LA. I think that’s it.”

“Lot of hardware,” Joel said, coming back to the sitting area of your office, taking the chair near your end of the couch, his fingers rapping against the glass of his beer bottle. 

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, a little cynically. “I keep telling Leo he needs to get me on Broadway so I can win a Tony. Then all I need is some bullshit way to win a Grammy and I can EGOT.” 

“EGOT?” Joel frowned. 

“Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony,” you said. “All the big ones.” 

“Shit,” he shook his head a little, taking another swig of beer. “Aim high, I guess. What are you workin’ on?” 

“Character research,” you said, holding up what was on your lap. It was a comic book, one from the series he’d seen Ellie reading. “I think I’ve just about figured her out but I’m trying to make sure I feel good with it before Friday. I’ve been reading up on how people react to certain traumas, trying to fold that in, see what seems right.” 

“Didn’t know playin’ a superhero needed so much research,” he said. 

“Playing anyone requires research,” you said. “People are complicated things.”

“Suppose so,” he said. “What…” 

“Why are you here, Joel,” you cut him off. 

He clenched his jaw for a moment. 

“I…” he took a deep breath. “Do you really have to go to LA.” 

“Are you serious?” You gaped at him.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s not safe. Should stay here where we have shit more locked down and…” 

“And I have a movie to make!” You cut him off. “Do you really expect them to relocate production to fucking Texas because of me?” 

“Yes,” he said again. 

“Joel,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. 

“Ain’t you some huge star?” He pressed on, staring down at his beer bottle, picking at the label with his thumb. “Got all those damn trophies, everyone on the damn planet knows your name, just have all that shit come to you and…” 

“Joel,” you said, more gently this time, gentle enough that he frowned, looking over at you. You smiled a little. “That’s not how it works.” 

“Why not.” 

“Because,” you said. “Do you know what goes into making a movie? It’s not just some actors and camera men. There’s equipment we’re using that only exists in a few places on the planet and LA is one of those places. We start principal photography in January, do you know how much work has already been done so we’re ready to shoot? Do you know how many people’s livelihoods depend on this movie being made when we said we were making it where we planned to make it? And I mean actual people, not just rich assholes like me. The budget on this movie is $210 million and yeah, $35 million of that is coming to me but the vast majority of that money is going to support the hundreds of people who work on the movie who are just trying to pay their mortgage and put their kids through college. We move locations, shift filming dates now? Those people are suddenly out of work when it’s too late to get on any other projects. If you don’t think you’re up for it, talk to Tommy, have them send someone else…” 

“No,” he said sharply. 

You frowned. 

“Why not?” You asked. “Just…” 

Joel clenched his jaw, looking down at the beer bottle again. The corner of the label was shredded. 

“Don’t trust anyone else,” he said. “If you’re goin’ to LA, it’s with me. End of story.” 

You were quiet for a moment.

“Why do you care so much?” You asked eventually. 

“I… I don’t…” he bounced his leg, trying to find the words before finally looking over at you again. “I don’t want to watch you die.” 

You scoffed.

“I don’t think anyone would really hold it against you if I do,” you said wryly. “So don’t worry about it.” 

“That ain’t why I’m worried,” he said sharply before taking a deep breath and going back to the bottle, picking away at the label more and more. “I didn’t take this job to watch someone fuckin’ hunt you down.” 

You were quiet again. 

“Why did you hit Alan today.” 

He took a shaky breath.

“I thought he was hurtin’ you,” he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. “And I.. I can’t…” 

He clenched his jaw, gripping the bottle so tight it hurt. 

“I need you to not get hurt,” he said. “Not gonna let you get yourself killed. And you… you just like to ignore what I tell you, you do reckless shit and it’s gonna…” 

“I’ll do what I’m told,” you cut him off, a keen kind of honesty in your voice, the shift noticeable enough that he looked over at you. Your eyes were oddly open, looking at him in much the same way you had the night you got hurt at the premiere, like all the artifice of your public persona had been stripped away and all that was left was yourself. “I don’t… I absolutely loathe just how much of my own life is out of my control and how all I am is just some thing all these other people move around to make money and the fact that I can’t even go outside right now without someone babysitting me… It struck a nerve. But… I’ll behave. I’ll do what you tell me to do. I won’t take any risks, I’ll tell you everything you need to know, I’ll obey when you tell me to do something. I’ll take it seriously.” 

He watched you for a moment.

“You’ll let me keep you safe?” He asked quietly. 

“I’ll let you keep me safe,” you said softly. “I promise. Just come with me to LA. You… you make me feel safe. I’ll do what you say, I’ll let you protect me. I promise.”  

“OK,” he nodded, looking at the label in pieces in his hands. “I’ll protect you.” 

He just prayed that would be enough. 

A/N: Thank you for reading! I know this took me roughly 6 million years to update and I wish I had a good reason for that but, in all honesty, I just don't. I appreciate you spending your time with these characters, even after I've left you hanging.

Things are going to start ramping up next chapter! I really can't wait for what's coming, there's stuff I've been picturing since I first thought up this story that is just around the corner. I hope you enjoy it!

In the mean time, if you want to see what Thanksgiving Day was like for Siren and Joel, you can check out this (now officially canon) one shot I posted for the holiday.

Thanks again for being here! I love sharing this story with you all.

Love you!!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter @phry-k @sunnytuliptime

[genderqueerdykes]

TW: Transphobia, intentional misgendering/mentions of abuse, gaslighting, and generally gross behavior. You asked for experiences from transmasc people, so, here I am. I'm a transmasc person. Still figuring out what kind of person that is, but... I'm transmasc, which is what matters here. I've been told a LOT of harmful things in the community, both from abusers and from friends(who I no longer talk to). This is my experience. My first real experience with all of this was from a shitty ex, who at that point controlled my life and had identified as bi since he was 12. He denied me the ability to transition (I couldn't drive myself to the doctor and had no money to pay for more than the prescription), saying that I would turn into a monster and break up with him, abuse him, become violent, etc. He pressured me into using she/her pronouns along with he/they. I used genderfluid transmasc at the time as my labels, and he used this as an excuse to proudly call me "his wife in training", saying that because I didn't bind half the time, I was practically a woman. I'm now in therapy because while the term genderfluid fits, I legitimately get panicked when I try to use it because not only did he use it against me, but people used it to... detransify me. De-masc me.

Now, I'm a feminine person in some respects. I like a good accessory and bright colors and cute things. But because I wasn't performing hypermasculinity to become "a true man", people used genderfluid as a term to say "Well, clearly you're fine with female pronouns and terms because you wear earrings/paint your nails, and genderfluid falls in the scale of woman, so I'll just call you woman." People used the term so often to de-transify me, ESPECIALLY in the community.

When out and about, it does not matter if I have he/him or they/them pins on- people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

I'm nervous about top surgery sometime this year or next year. I want to keep a little bit of my chest, because I'm a larger person- but I'm legitimately worried my doctor will go against my wishes and give me a bird chest or carve out too much. I want top surgery not only because it will make me feel more like myself, but because my stupid chest is what EVERYONE points to- queer or non- and says that "but you have that, shouldn't you enjoy it?"

Being labeled a faker, a potential monster in the making, as someone who's just confused, and worst of all, being labeled as someone who didn't know what my own label meant... it's worn me down. I'm not sure what to do with myself, and am in gender therapy to unpack the trauma of what other people have placed onto me, both queer and cishet alike. I have quite a few understanding, loving friends in the community- but there have been just as many people who haven't understood and try to fit me into a box until I bled.

This stuff isn't just "oh silly transmasc! That's part of the experience! You just have to deal with it!" I don't, actually. And I refuse to. I refuse to give up the things I love for other people's assumptions of my body, label or identity. Even if it hurts to fight back, I'm tired of letting transphobes inside and outside our community harm me based on what THEY think I should be. This is my story. Sorry if it's bleak, but... that's the truth. I hope it helps others see that blaming us for all the harm the community faces, and making us into your blank dolls to play with, breaks us. It's awful. Please, treat us better. We deserve better. We always have.

Thank you for letting us share our stories.

thank you for taking the time to type this out and share, i really appreciate it. this is very insightful and important. i can't believe how awful people are to you. that shouldn't be happening. i don't want to take away from your story so i'll keep it brief

people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

this happens so often. this is what i mean when i say that trans men and mascs are also affected by transmisogyny. many people mistake trans men and mascs for trans women and transfems. it's a real thing and we need to acknowledge it.

[transfemme-shelterdog]

I dislike that we as trans people are shoved into boxes. "Men need to act like this," "women need to act like that." And while a lot of it does apply to cis people, it hits trans people even harder. A trans man can't wear nail polish or a bit of eyeshadow without being called fake, a transtrender, "actually a dumb girl who can't make these decisions." And if trans women aren't 100% passing and the epitome of femininity and beauty, then they're "actually just men trying to get into women's spaces to hurt them." It fucking sucks.

I'm a trans guy, 100% binary. I want to carry my own kid(s). I've had other trans men SCREECH at me for this. Calling me fake and a disgrace to trans men, being told I'm actually just a woman or nonbinary (but it's obvious they use "nonbinary" to mean "woman lite"). And don't get me started on how people, both cis and trans, react when I tell them I've considered being called mother/mom instead of father/dad. You'd think I just killed their newborn and fed it to cheetas.

I messed around with the label of nonbinary. I tried living as a woman, even detransitioned for a year to try again. It was all terrible. I know who I am. I know I'm a man. Me wanting to do traditionally "female things" doesn't affect that.

I've even been told by (well-meaning) people that being the carrier of the child + the more "submissive" one in the relationship doesn't mean I have to be a mother instead of a father. But that's not it. It's not about gender roles or "moms do this" and "dads do that." It's purely about vibes. The vibes between mom and dad are different to me, maybe because of how I was raised, even when they're performing the same childcare and spousal duties.

When I think of myself as a mom, I think of my mom. And I love her to death. She's an incredibly comforting prescence and I've wanted to be like her since I was 10. Me being trans doesn't mean I have to give that up. It just means I do everything I was going to do but just a little to the left instead.

My mom is an incredibly resilient, durable person. Very stubborn and takes absolutely no shit. She's 5ft of fury and audacity, and I've seen her knock out 6ft+ men. The type that have working muscle too, like firefighters and carpenters, not gymbros. And at the same time, she's never raised her voice at me, was always gentle and protective, worked her ass off and did her best every day. What child wouldn't want to be like their mom when their mom is like that?

That's not to say my dad did nothing. He's very loving, but he's a very distant man. I know he'd fight to the death for me. He'd risk everything, he'd kill someone if needed. But my mom would use her body to shield me a thousand times over, all while comforting me and wiping my tears and telling me that it's going to be okay. And she'd show no pain. Hell, she'd smile and tell me she loves me. You know what I mean?

That's the kind of parent I want to be. Can I be that as a dad? Yeah. But I feel more connected to my mom when I think of myself as a mom. What's the harm in that?

Plus, I'm gay. It'll be easier to know which parent my kid is calling for when we're not both called dad.

Tldr; gender roles are stupid and I should get to pick if I want to be called mom or carry my own kid even if I'm a man

As a binary, 100% trans girl (well, girl dog but that's another story), I'm kinda the opposite? I want to adhere to gender roles strictly and not deviate at all. Closest you'd get label wise is me being a "tomboy". I like metal (Not Metallica metal, but like metal metal, shit like Menstrual Vampires, Cattle Decap, Dead Neanderthals, etc), I'm very athletic, and I enjoy gaming. Plus my wardrobe is mainly metal shirts/cardigans and leggings. But I also really enjoy looking pretty in a little black dress, heels, my hair done, and makeup.

I fully support you playing with gender norms and I agree, it's a shame that our own people are treating you like that. Your logic for why you'd want to be called mom and have kids is totally sound, and I think it's totally cool and awesome.

Trans people who play with gender norms are as valid as those that adhere to it.

[zepskies]

Ooooh I'M so excited to see what you thought of the ATW finale!

Lol aww you remembered!! ❤️‍🔥 I've legit had this scene for this story in my head since that convo! But you're too kind to me, friend, thank you so very much. 🥹🥹 This is a lot shorter than how long my usual series run, so I feared it was a bit rushed, but I'm so glad you've enjoyed the ride. 💕

And yes, I did steal your other Ross gif! 🤣

There's legit a Friends gif for everything.~

Such a strong and hot start, wow! 🫠🔥 Full honesty, as a writer, starting chapters with smut always freaks me tf out. Like, where do you put the damn "keep reading" line without flashing some innocent people at work 😂

We're starting off with a bang! 😝 (Sorry, even I hate my self for that pun.)

Oh God, yeah. How do I include a hook to get people to read this chapter while keeping the steamy stuff under the cut? 🤣🤣

Ooof, I know the exact feeling you're describing here. Kinda like when you're taking a hot bath but the room is cold and so everything not covered by water is freezing... 😅

Yes exactly! The kind of cold that just exists in the air like a frigid blanket. 🥶

Oh, here we go! Executed to perfection 😏

Ahaha thank you, my lovely. 😏❤️‍🔥

First of all, I was just reading this whole, intensely scorching scene with a thundering heart and squeezing my damn thighs hard 😂 Secondly, I loooove this trope! It's sorta romantic?! Idk 😅🤷‍♀️ Kinda gives "waiting for the right one and not in the mood for anyone else" vibes. I did that kinda with Russell recently lol But I love the extra intensity and specialness it gives, y'know? ❤️‍🔥

omg I love that trope too (clearly lol)! Yes that's exactly it on it being actually romantic -- and if you mean on Part 3 of Exit Strategy than I'm even more excited to read that chapter when I get a chance -- hopefully later this week! 😍 I'm loving how you're writing Russell. 💗

But yes I agree it adds an extra spark here imo, knowing Dean has been unintentially "saving himself" for her lmaoo.

Loved the callback of him hearing her again, although his instincts had taken over. It shows how much he cares about her and respects her 💕 And I truly wonder what Sam will say when Dean comes back with a mate lol

Aww that's exactly what I intended as well! He's not so far gone that he doesn't consider her and what she wants (with him). 💕

You know what, a few people have requested seeing an epilogue of some kind where Sam gets to meet the reader and she gets to meet him and Dean Jr., so I may have to sketch something soon for my next little project. 🥰

Lol I was gonna say, "How long do you guys plan on being here? This might take a while" 😂 But I'm so in love with their little afterglow bonding session ❤️❤️❤️ I honestly could read about their convos forever. They're so cute 🥹

Lolll right? They could be here for a week just going over the past 15 seasons. 😂 But they have to start somewhere, right? John's journal can only cover so much. And I wanted Dean to start expressing himself to her in words and start to open up to her in a way he hasn't done for anyone in years.

Aww I'm so glad that you love them together! 💗 In this story I found that the small moments and day-to-day convos between these two were just as important as the bigger action/dramatic moments.

We've already talked about this when he mentioned Dean jr. the first time, but my headcanon is, too, that Dean would be super happy, incredibly sad and lonely, and definitely a little envious and sour lol 😂😂

Ugh that's exactly it, poor baby. 😭 A perfect description of Dean post S15 here (gotta add envious and sour lmao).

You really nailed him here! I could hear every word out of his mouth, too!! 😂🫶

Omg thank you!! I feel like Dean's the one I can hear most clearly in my head when I write for him. 😂😂

Can totally seeing him doing all of that and arguing with her throughout lol Our hero 🥹💚

Oh absolutely. These two would probably be driving each other crazy while still being crazy in love with one another -- bickering all down the mountain. 🙄😂

(Dean grumbling, trying to stamp down his smile: "Shoulda left you for the damn bear.")

Oooh, I completely forgot she doesn't yet!! Aww, she loved him before she knew he had a cool car. This is like finding out he was a millionaire and kept it a secret to find true love and weed out the gold diggers 🤣

Bahahaa I LOVE that comparison. 🤣 I just imagined him pulling up like--

This had me DEAD 🤣🤣🤣

lmfaoooo I meannnn, is he wrong? 😂😂

A year???? Jesus fuck, this is even sadder now!!! Sam was really like, "Ciao, jerk." lol

Yeeeeah maybe this is something I'll explore if/when I write that epilogue, but Sam really is off having his new life. Granted, in my mind he reaches out to Dean to check in, invite him over, etc., but even though Dean's happy for him, it's hard to be around Sam's life when Dean himself feels so aimless (and kind of empty inside). So he probably did a lot of the "staying away" in the situation. 💙

Oh she's about to find out how much 😂😂💚

Oh she's about to find out a lot of things about her man that she never thought possible. 🤣🤣

("You've died HOW many times?!!")

That was such a perfect ending! They literally drove off into the sunset together *swoon* 😍🫠🫶 (And I could totally see Dean singing along to the lyrics at the end there) I seriously enjoyed this series so much, friend!! 🤍🤍🤍 Totally gave me those vibes 🥹💕:

Aww thank you so, so much, Wayne!! 💕💕 They really did have their Hallmark movie moment lol. (Oh, he SO would be singing along -- loudly! lol)

omggg I'm honestly honored that it gave you Mondler vibes. 🥹 I always loved them more than Ross/Rachel tbh, so that's literally the best compliment ever. 💗

Thank you again so much for reading and always brightening my day right up with your wonderful, insightful, hilarious comments on my writing, friend. 💞

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says. 

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 

So you tell him. 

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school. 

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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[premiumbitch]

THINGS TO MANIFEST - BILLIE EILISH THEMED PACK ! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

MY WIFE MY WIFE MY WIFE. anyways, I decided I'd make this billie themed pack for the people who want to manifest themselves to be a completely different person, especially if they like Billie's personality and the way she carries herself! also for the amazing shifters who can script this about themselves! enjoy :)

⋆⛧┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈⛧⋆

BEAUTY ♡ //

Your beauty feels like midnight—deep, mysterious, and quietly powerful, as if the universe itself paused to admire you.

Your hair flows like dark waves crashing against the shore—effortless, raw, and unapologetically yours.

Your eyes are like hidden galaxies, filled with stars no one has seen yet, holding secrets and stories that pull people in.

Your skin glows like the moonlight on still water—soft, ethereal, and quietly captivating.

Your smile is rare, but when it happens, it’s like the first note of a song that silences everything else in the room.

You carry yourself like you know the world is watching but don’t care—you’re a storm, calm on the surface and electric underneath.

Your beauty doesn’t demand attention; it lingers, like smoke curling into the air, unforgettable and haunting.

You have the kind of face that feels like art, layered and meaningful, something people can’t stop analyzing.

Light bends around you differently, wrapping you in an otherworldly glow that makes everything feel cinematic.

Your beauty isn’t perfect—it’s raw, real, and completely magnetic, like a song you can’t stop listening to.

Even in silence, you make a statement; your presence alone feels like an unspoken melody.

AURA ♡ //

You radiate a quiet intensity, like the bassline of a song you feel in your chest.

Your vibe is like the sound of rain at 2 a.m.—calming, reflective, but charged with unspoken emotion.

Being around you feels like walking through a dream—everything seems surreal and slightly tilted in the best way.

You carry an edge that makes people curious, like there’s always more to you than meets the eye.

Your presence transforms the ordinary into something extraordinary, like a black-and-white photo suddenly coming to life.

People don’t just see you—they feel you, as if your energy leaves an imprint on their soul.

Your aura is a mix of contradictions—soft and sharp, light and dark, calm and stormy—all at once.

You have a way of making silence feel full, like the space between notes in a perfectly written song.

Time feels slower around you, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting for your next move.

People can’t help but orbit around you, drawn to your energy like moths to a flame.

Your aura feels like a whispered promise—mysterious, magnetic, and impossible to ignore.

SMARTS ♡ //

Your mind works like a haunting melody—complex, layered, and full of unexpected twists.

You think in ways others can’t, seeing beauty in chaos and patterns in what seems random.

Your ideas feel like lyrics that hit too close to home—raw, emotional, and deeply resonant.

You have the ability to turn pain into poetry, finding meaning in places others might overlook.

Your brilliance is quiet but undeniable, like the kind of genius that doesn’t need to announce itself to be felt.

You approach challenges like a remix, taking them apart and putting them back together in a way no one expects.

Your creativity feels boundless, like you’re pulling inspiration from places no one else can reach.

You have a gift for finding the rhythm in chaos, making the complex feel effortless.

Your intuition is razor-sharp, allowing you to see through the noise and focus on what truly matters.

You don’t just solve problems—you make people feel something while you do it, like art disguised as logic.

Your smarts have depth, carrying the weight of someone who’s felt, seen, and understood more than most.

PERSONALITY ♡ //

You’re the kind of person who makes people stop and think, a perfect mix of mystery and relatability.

Your kindness is quiet but transformative, like the way a single note can shift the mood of an entire song.

You have a way of making people feel understood without them even having to explain themselves.

Your humor is sharp and unexpected, the kind that catches people off guard and leaves them grinning.

You inspire people not by trying, but by being unapologetically yourself—a reminder that authenticity is power.

Your energy is calm but electric, like the moment before the beat drops at a concert.

You have a way of making the unconventional feel beautiful, turning flaws into something people admire.

Your presence feels like a song on repeat—layered, addictive, and impossible to get out of someone’s head.

You’re the person people think about long after you’ve left the room, like a haunting lyric they can’t forget.

You make people feel safe and inspired at the same time, like they’re part of something bigger just by being around you.

Your personality is a masterpiece of contrasts—light and shadow, chaos and calm, vulnerability and strength.

You’re not just unforgettable—you’re unforgettable in a way that makes people see the world differently.

hope you guys enjoyed! requests are appreciated! lmk if you want anything! <3

[blacklightwriter]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ - ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ: ɴᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ

Story Summary: EXTREME SLOW BURN. A woman from war-torn Demacia is transported to Zaun, where she makes ends meet. Her skills in inventing catch the attention of a Piltovan, who extends a full ride through Piltover Academy, which she accepts. Here, her adventure begins. Content Warning: Violence, war. Word Count: 1,9k Author's Note: Here is the prologue for the Viktor fic I've been working on for years now. This story was written BEFORE season two of Arcane, so keep that in mind. I'm new to writing fanfic and what is expected when introducing a story, so if there's something more you'd like to see, please let me know. Enjoy and thanks for reading! Find me on Ao3!

I have always imagined that my life was intimately entwined with the idea of peace, It always seemed wrong to me that people were constantly at odds with one another. What could they possibly take from each other? What caused that burning hatred in them to make them want to commit such heinous acts in the name of victory? Revenge? Ideas of war were always lost on me.

Growing up in Demacia, my family knew war. The battle-ridden kingdom seemed constantly at odds whether it was from invaders from outside or conspirers from within. My mother and father did what they could to protect me from the costs of war the best they could, but even they knew that at some point the veil would be ripped and I would need to see the world for what it was.

My mother was a gentle soul. She spent her days showing me how to sew and the best way to heal wounds, often telling me stories of valor from her time on the battlefield helping the wounded. Other times telling me the consequences of war with a distant look on her face. She told me how she had to amputate a child’s arm because he would die if she didn’t.

I often wondered if that was why I would sometimes hear her scream in the middle of the night.

My father was an inventor and a damn good one. He worked for the king to help find ways to improve the lives of everyday Demacians. The food plow that would collect, wash, and store food? That was him. His idea. When the king took an interest in it, my father insisted that every farmer of Demacia be given one. Other territories could pay for it, but Demacians were who it was built for. The King agreed and ever since then, our family had been regarded highly. We were able to live in the main city if we wanted to, but my mother felt uneasy about it. So, we lived in a small cottage just outside its walls in the Silent Forest.

I spent many hot summers staying with my father in our back shed - his workshop. He taught me everything he possibly could and planted a love for science in me.

“We have the possibility to change anything we want to, vita mea.” He said, his nose wrinkling in displeasure at the contraption before him. “As inventors, our duty is to make the world a better place.”

He fiddled with his tools, moving them expertly across the machine until a satisfying click came and the machine began humming. He smiled, turning a warm gaze to me.

“I don’t ever want you to forget that. This world can be cruel and relentless, but we must strive to do the right thing. Always.”

My mother would always yell at us when the sun set and the trees began tittering with the life of the forest animals around us. Those nights were the best memories I have. Coming home from school and seeing my father and mother in the kitchen preparing dinner, laughing, and being in love. Despite the tension in our flawed kingdom, my parents had hope and remained steadfast that the same peace we had in our home was attainable to Demacia.

But, like most dreams, we had to wake up eventually.

When the King died, we all mourned. Not only for the loss but for the end of an era. People were unsure what would happen now. There were already talks of the noble families saying the King’s son, Jarvan, wasn’t fit to rule. This made Jarvan tense and he sought out my father, demanding that he make weapons to defend the Great City from the war he knew was coming.

Despite my father knowing his duty as a Demacian citizen, he also knew he had a duty to his family. Building weapons of war would put a mark on our backs and since we weren’t in the protected main city, it was too big of a risk. So, my father said no.

This angered the new king, no doubt out of fear of losing his newly gained title, and he demanded my father do his bidding or he and his family be put to death. War had found our small slice of peace, and my father made a choice.

He came home that day crying, I remember, a mysterious man shrouded in a dark cloak to his side. He and my mother spoke tearfully. He hugged my mother as she sobbed loudly. Finally, they came to me, telling me what had happened and how it was time for me to say goodbye to Demacia.

“This man is a magician, Vannah. He will take you somewhere far away from here. Somewhere you will be safe.” He explained, packing things for me frantically. There wasn’t much time.

The panic hadn’t set in yet, nor the realization that this would be my final moments with my family. I think about it a lot. Most of the time with a tinge of regret.

“Magicians aren’t supposed to do magic here, though, pater.” I said, my eyebrows pinching in confusion. “They can’t even do magic because of all the petricite, I thought.”

“I can only do one of you.” The man said with indifference, his dark figure looming in the corner.

“Wait, one of us? As in…?”

My whole world began shattering. My home, my family, my life. All of it was slipping through my fingers. Just an hour ago I was sitting in a chair across from my mother, reading her my favorite play, joking with her about how I was going to be a famous actress one day.

My father whirled at me, placing his hands firmly on my shoulders, his face contorted with sorrow. “There is no time, vita mea. We must pack.”

I stepped away from his grip, shaking my head, feeling the tears forming. “No! No! I will not leave! You can not ask me to leave!”

My mother stepped forward, tears falling freely down her face, her arms wrapping around me tightly. “We aren’t asking, lux mea.”

I began sobbing, hearing my father continue to pack as my mother and I held each other, engraining our touch into each other’s minds so we would never forget. I felt her tears dampen my hair and she gingerly ran her hands up and down my back in a poor attempt to soothe me.

She pulled away a little to look at my face when my father stepped over to us, moving my hair out of my face and placing a kiss on my forehead.

“I want you to have something, Vannah.” My father said, sticking his hand in his shirt and pulling out his necklace of petricite. He had gotten it as a gift from the previous king for his service to Demacia. A proud reminder to him of what happens when you do the right thing.

He pulled the necklace from around his neck and placed it softly around mine, the stone feeling too heavy on me. Like it didn’t belong there. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to him so our foreheads touched, his eyes glassy with sorrow.

“Remember what we have taught you, vita mea. The world will do what it can to tear you down, but we must work to make it a better place. Whenever you doubt that you will look at this,” He pulled up the stone, revealing a protection rune carved into its surface. “And you will remember.”

“I don’t want to leave you, pater.” I whispered.

“You won’t. Not now. Not ever. And we will never leave you. We will be with you now and forever.” He pulled my mother and I into a tight hug, both of them whispering hushed goodbyes and I love you, but the hole in my heart had begun forming. For a brief and horrifying second, I understood how people gained that burning hatred for one another, but I pushed that thought aside.

“They are coming.” The magician whispered, moving to the center of the room and pulling out shimmering blue crystals.

My mother and father pulled from me, handing me my bag of what I could take from my home and my heart shattered at the loss of their warmth.

My father gently took my cheek in his hands, wiping away my tears, a sad smile on his lips. Suddenly a burst of wind and a glowing blue light erupted from the middle of the room. I turned and saw a blue circle of light. Loud knocks were coming from the front door.

“What’s going on in there! Open the door this instant!” A voice from the other side called.

Thunderous wind roared through the room as the portal pushed everything in the room to the walls, breaking the windows in the cottage. Screams could be heard from outside.

“You must come! Now!” The magician yelled, stepping through the circle of light and disappearing.

“Go.” My father said, his hand dropping from my face as he and my mother rushed to the door, pushing all their weight on it to keep whoever was outside from coming in.

I nodded, looking fearfully at the booming and breaking door. I took careful steps back, never once facing the portal, only facing my parents.

As I was mere steps away from the portal, the door burst open, and Demacian guards rushed in, immediately pushing my mother and father to the ground.

“Go, Vannah!” My father yelled, gesturing wildly as a guard grabbed his arms viciously.

“Using magic, eh, scientist? Traitor!” The guard yelled, raising his sword up above my father.

“No!” I tried to run towards them, but I felt a hand grab my wrist and pull me back towards the portal, blue light engulfing me as I watched the sword plunge into my dad’s back.

Suddenly, the light was gone. All light. A terrible smell filled my lungs, but not enough air. I collapsed on the ground as my lungs burned, gasping and coughing for air.

“I would suggest getting used to it, kid.” The magician taunted, his small form bending down in front of me, a smug smirk on his face.

“Wh-Where am I?” I gasped, clutching at my throat. I looked around hoping to find something familiar, but all I could see was a grey haze.

People who were around us glared at us with threatening sneers. Crumbling buildings stood low to the ground and there wasn’t a sky, just more grey haze.

“Your pops wanted you somewhere safe. There’s no place safer than here. Welcome to Zaun, kid.”

I coughed, my mind having a hard time forming a coherent thought from the lack of oxygen. “Z-Zaun?”

“He wanted Piltover, but he couldn’t afford it.” The man said with a shrug, standing up straight. “I’m sorry for your loss, kid.”

With that, he turned on his heels and began walking away.

“W-Wait!” I called, coughing once more, tears streaming from my eyes as my lungs burned.

He let out an annoyed sigh and turned to face me, his eyebrows raised in frustration. “What?”

“What am I supposed to do now?” I whimpered, black spots dabbling my vision.

“How am I supposed to know? Your dad paid me to get you here, not escort you around. You’re old enough to figure it out yourself, so do it.”

I didn’t have it in me to argue. I clutched at my throat, hoping the air would miraculously appear. Black spots started filling my vision and soon, the world faded into nothingness.

[coffeebooksrain18]

Something I find wild is that the people who love the IC are the same people who hate on Nesta. Now i already know this but we need to go through each ones personality real quick.

Rhys: a male with supposedly enough power to be High King of Pyrithan doesn't do anything for his people. Not even for the ones he supposedly loves because even in that city there are slums that he let his mates sister live in (also I can't remember how to spell it Val I think but whatever). A warrior people he keeps in the worst conditions on his mountain plains because they are just too stubborn even though we don't have a story or see him actually suggesting this to any of the leaders of any camp. And Hewn City, need I say more? They are treated horribly by him and then he wonders why they have a bad attitude when most haven't even breathed fresh air?

Mor: now I kinda like Mor but if I'm honest she doesn't have much depth besides a female who was traumatized and now dresses sexy. I don't care she's a lesbian I'm bi it doesn't matter to me much. If a character is boring i will state that fact no matter the sexuality. And Mor? Well is fucking boring. But also her as a character. She rules Hewn City in Rhys steed on many occasions, she hates how they treat fae females down there, but has she done anything for them? Because I can't think of one occasion she actually helped one instead of berating them and saying they should be grateful. She treats them the way she was treated but were supposed to feel sorry for Mor? That makes no sense.

Cassian: he is pretty much the angry warrior guy of the group. He's the wild dog on a leash just waiting for his master to let him free (Rhys). He treats his mate like shit on his boot and then wonders why she avoids him like the fucking plague. He verbally and at times physically abuses his own mate but were just supposed to brush that off as him having anger issues? He also had destroyed Summer court and has yet to apologize because he was just "drunk and being stupid". Yeah no you destroyed families homes the least you can fucking do is apologize but instead you just bailed.

Azriel: now I still like him though he is on thin ice. If he hurts my baby Gwyn I will be going into the book and bitch slapping him to next week. But let's talk about his character. The silent and brooding to complement Cassians dumb idiot persona. He is the resident torturer, yes you heard that right the resident torturer. And it is even implied he enjoys the job. He is a traumatized person who out of all the IC actually tries to connect and help others because of what he went through. He is often frowned on because he is a Shadowsinger and an assassin. The Illyrains look down on him because he is a bastard. Like I said I still like him but he still has done horrible things were just supposed to forget about.

And finally

Amren: she was powerful and scary until the end of Wings and Ruin. Now she's just a frail female fae with nothing to offer other than knowledge she hardly remembers because she's "Just that old". She had nothing nothing offer anymore other than being the resident rude bitch of the group. She is worse than Nesta and I love Nesta and her bitchyness. She wants everyone to be afraid of her but she doesn't know how to fight and if she does it's been so long we would have to start the training process all over again. She still treats Feyra like a hindrance even though Feyra is supposedly "High Lady". She is honestly just a grumpy old bitch who wants to be a badass but not put in any work. None of the IC have anything to worry about from her anymore other than maybe she knows of something powerful but from her track record she probably forgot where it is.

My point is so many hate on Nesta because she is a Bitch who doesn't care about anyone but forget the IC are literally filled with that type of character. So it honestly just shows they can't look past hot abs in my opinion.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

A shocking statement he knows, but he won't lie to himself. Not anymore, especially when Lilith was part of the problem with Pride dying.

She was selfish and had to have only the best. And where Adam wanted nice things he didn't demand them. Not like her.

Adam was generous and kind, when they went to the market everyone greeted him and just wanted to talk to him. Lucifer knew he made the right choice of sparing him from the horrible fate that were those thugs.

He knew they would likely not look here, Alastor maybe but he knew better than to go against him.

Adam smiled as he thanked the shop keep for all the ingredients.

Lucifer: You look like you're enjoying yourself.

Adam: It's nice to talk to all the people, they're really quite interesting.

They walked back so he could give the cook the ingredients.

Lucifer: You ever do anything like this back home?

Adam: Not as much as I would like. Mother made studies and many other things a priority over going out to the city to socialize. This has been nice.

Lucifer: I bet, it's important to connect with your people. You don't have to know every single name and back story, but just in a way they all feel seen and heard.

Adam smiled: You're a good person and King Lu, your people are lucky to have someone who cares so much for them.

Prince Adam and Thief Lucifer

Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox ((RadioStatic yay! Lol))

Lucifer is a King of a dying Kingdom that is going to Hell (hahaha) and in order to survive and help his people him and the others steal as much as they can from neighboring kingdoms.

Adam is the heir to the throne in the Kingdom of Eden, his younger sister Emily won't be ready for it for a few more years yet.

Alastor gets the idea to kidnap one of them when he sees both Adam and Emily just out walking.

Fearing for his sister's safety, Adam volunteers to go with them willingly if they leave her.

So for safe keeping until they get the ransom money (you know the tower from tangled?) they take him to a tower that only they know about.

I love Prince Adam! Also, Lucifer, the hell are you doing hanging out with ruffians?

-

Vox searching Adam: He's got nothing! You're a Prince, where's your... jewels and gold?

Adam: Jewels? Gold? In this heat? I'd rather be chained up in your bdsm tower than wear gold on a day like today.

Alastor groans: Vox, teach him a lesson. His highness should know better than to speak out of line.

Vox: Teach him a lesson...?

Lucifer: Yeah, man. Punish him!

Adam: Yeah, punish me~.

[ilions-end]

another weird book find in the norwegian national library!

a 1976 supplemental book for kindergarten teachers (!) about the iliad and the odyssey

its full title, translated, is something like "About The Iliad and the Odyssey: A Review With the Help of Certain Notes from Captivity" (the author was a political prisoner during wwii). as far as i can tell, it was written for a specific group of kindergarten teachers as a supplement to "the little cildren's book" (unnamed) that is presumably a kiddie-friendly version of the iliad and the odyssey

it has quick informal summaries of both plots with occasional commentary, and is surprisingly thorough with backstories and narrative context from the epic cycle. it doesn't at any point explain how this additional information might be conveyed to small children (most of it really doesn't seem preschool appropriate!).

i get the sense the author just... really loves the iliad and the odyssey and had a great time writing about them for her colleagues, it's really endearing to read.

like this is how she wraps up her odyssey summary:

My translation:

Penelopeia starts to tremble. This was their private sign. Their marital bed rests on living roots. No one can come between them. Now their reunion turns into something wonderful. I don't know if there exists anything more beautiful in literature, no indeed.

no, indeed! aw i feel you, ingeborg

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[chirpsythismorning]

The way fans on the st sub are almost all in agreement Nancy ending up with neither Jon nor Steve wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and how they can even come up with a sleuth of reasons as to why, honestly pretty valid and fair reasons, but then are absolutely gobsmacked when fans merely speculate something along those lines for El is, quite something.

[keepingmyoptionsfluid]

The idea that Tommy, a closeted gay man who was desperately trying to fit in in a hyper macho and discriminatory environment, isn't allowed to have any growth from when he was over compensating and was a dick to Chim really pisses me off. He literally had canonical growth to the point he was going for drinks with Chim and Hen in Bobby Begins Again and they got him a fancy leaving cake.

Why isn't he allowed to grow and be better? Because he's white? Because he "gets in the way of buddie"? Because no one is allowed to say and change at all over a decade?

Like this is a queer fandom and I'd bet a lot of money that a ton of people in this fandom said and did things they weren't proud of when they were younger, especially before they came out so they could try and hide it.

I know this is quite a young fandom too but like, it was literally only a decade ago when "gay" was an insult at school and doing anything that could be get you accused of being gay was fucking social suicide. You guys have no idea how lucky you are that people at least get called out for that shit now cause they didn't when I was a kid. I would have done almost anything to just be ignored, let alone accepted, rather than being openly bisexual.

So yeah, I think Tommy is allowed to fucking change as a person because Bobby, Chim and Hen came into his life and allowed him to stop repressing. Stop being such fucking assholes. You aren't any better than him, and frankly the way some of you behave makes the way Tommy acted when he was first in the show look like a fucking saint. Touch some grass.