⋆val⋆

you find Jinx at her workbench like you always do after a fight, hunched over a chipped enamel bowl, water turning pink. her makeup is spread around her in a careful disarray—new pots of kohl cracked open, brushes with stained bristles, half-empty bottles of perfume she doesn't reach for nowadays. you even spot the scissors—the same pair she used to hack off her braids in a moment of fury because they were something her opponents could grab and control.

no more handles.

nothing for you to hold either.

she doesn't look up when she hears your approaching footsteps; she just keeps scrubbing at her face with both hands like she's trying to peel it off, water sluicing down her arms, dripping from her elbows and onto the floor. the heavy black makeup that usually rings her eyes has melted into streaks that slash down her cheeks, dragged lower and wider with every pass of her palms like war paint gone wrong.

press, drag, rinse, press harder.

over and over.

"you fought tonight." your voice comes out flat and cold, each word carefully controlled; you clamp down everything else because if you let any emotion show, it'll split you open.

she hums in reply, casual and thoughtless like you've commented on the weather before dunking her whole face in the bowl. you hear the sound of the water breaking, sloshing as it licks at the rim, her breath forcing bubbles to the surface. when she comes up, it’s with a faint gasp, her hair plastered to her temples in dark clumps; she's dripping, water runing down her neck and soaking into the bandages wrapped around her chest, the painted black X over it starting to bleed at the edges. her bare shoulders flex as she rolls them out with a faint crack, earning a relieved grunt.

"i won, too," she adds after a moment, like that fixes anything.

"i don't care."

"you should." she finally glances at you over her shoulder, and your breath catches despite yourself; even with exhaustion carved into every line of her face, Jinx is devastatingly beautiful. the shimmer swimming in heir veins, burning through her system, gives her this restless, coiled energy, like she's constantly vibrating just beneath her pale skin ever since Singed put her back together wrong. "put on a good show. crowd loved it." her hands are unwrapped, settling on either side of the bowl now, knuckles split and swelling purple over the delicate bones.

"i told you i'd leave if you fought again," you say quietly, the words sounding worn thin from repetition. you can’t tell if you’re warning her anymore or trying to convince yourself you still mean them.

"yeah." she lets out a small laugh, the sound utterly patronizing nevertheless, keeping her head bowed for a second longer before picking up the worn rag beside her and wiping at her face lazily. you watch as the black keeps smearing, refusing to come clean. "you did say that."

"i meant it."

"sure you did."

the casual dismissal hits like a slap, and your hands curl into fists, heat flaring up your spine. you want to grab her, shake her until the arrogance cracks, make her understand. instead you stand there, trembling with barely contained rage. "you said you'd quit."

"i said i'd try."

"i'm serious, Jinx!"

"yeah? that why you're here?" she gestures vaguely at your presence, voice taking on that awful, condescending coo. "at my place in the middle of the night? 'cause you're leaving?"

"i came to tell you—"

"bullshit." she pushes off the workbench, and the bowl wobbles unsteadily. "you came because you always come. because you say you're gonna leave and then you don't. it's what you do." she straightens, chin tilting up. "you wanna leave? leave. door's right there. nothing's stopping you."

"Jinx—"

"no, seriously." she spins once, arms spreading wide with theatrical flourish. the movement makes her bandages shift against her ribs, showing the edges of bruises underneath—purple, yellow, green. "go. save yourself from the big bad pitfighter. run back to your safe little life and forget you ever slummed it with Zaun trash like me." her smile widens, sharp and knowing as the word trash hangs between you like something she's daring you to swallow. "but you won't, because you're too sweet for your own good. too caring. too worried what'll happen to poor, broken Jinx if you're not here to save her."

"don't fucking do that to me!" you snap, the control finally cracking as months of fears and frustrations come spilling out of you. "don't do that."

"do what, baby? tell the truth?" the endearment is mocking, dripping with false innocence. "you need this. you need to be needed. and i'm so very, very needy."

"you're such a fucking asshole," you spit out, face twisting in disbelief at her words like you don’t know what to do with the thing she’s becoming. this girl standing in front of you, smirking with poison in her voice, barely resembles the one you fell in love with.

"mmm, yeah." her eyes glitter with mean amusement, bottom lip caught between her teeth to contain her smile. "but you love me anyway. that's the problem, isn't it? you can't help yourself. can't walk away from a lost cause."

"stop acting like this!"

"i'm not acting like anything." she tosses the rag back into the bowl, letting it land in the pink water with a wet slap. "you just say a lot of things, but you're still there."

"not for long."

"when?"

“what?”

"when are you leaving then?" her voice is deliberately flat as she leans back against the workbench once more, arms braced behind her like she's settling for a show. "tonight? tomorrow? just wanna know how long i've got."

"that's it?" you huff, stepping closer, anger finally overriding the ache in your chest. "that's all you have to say? i'm telling you i'm done, and you're just… you don't even care—!"

"sure i care." she pushes off the bench, stepping onto the propeller blade you stand on, claiming space you thought was yours. "but you're gonna walk out that door, go back to your little apartment, and lie awake all night wondering if i'm okay. if i'm bleeding out in some alley. if someone finally hit me hard enough that i didn't get back up." she stops, facing you with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "and then tomorrow night—or maybe the night after, if you're feeling particularly strong—you'll come back. you always come back. because the guilt would eat you alive, wouldn't it? knowing you left me. knowing you could've stayed unlike the rest of them and maybe, just maybe, kept me from destroying myself completely."

every word lands like a punch, because it’s true. because Jinx knows exactly where to press, exactly how to hurt, and she does it anyway. your breath comes faster, vision blurring at the edges.

"fuck you," you breathe out, voice unsteady with rage. "fuck you for using that against me."

"oh, poor baby." she takes another step, tone sliding back into something honeyed and vicious. "so noble. so self-sacrificing. staying with the broken girl because someone has to, right? because if you don't, who—"

"stop it!" your shout echoes in the open space, bouncing off metal and stone, coming back distorted and strange. your whole body is shaking with fury and hurt, tears streaming down your face freely now as you face her cruelty. "you want me to leave? fine. i'll fucking leave right now. and when you're lying in that pit with your skull cracked open and your blood soaking into the dirt, you can die knowing you pushed away the only person who still gave a shit about you." the words tear out of you raw as you turn on your heel and storm toward the exit.

behind you, Jinx's laugh cuts off abruptly. "wait—"

"no!" you don't slow down, boots clanging hard against the old propeller blade, metal ringing under your weight. "i'm done. you win. you're right about everything. i'm just some pathetic case who needs broken people to feel good about herself. congratulations on figuring it out."

"wait, no! i'm sorry. i'm sorry, i'm—fuck, i'm sorry!” the words tumble out of her unfiltered, taking on that frantic edge you've learned to recognize. "please don't go. please. you know i don't mean it. you know i never do."

still, you keep moving, because you've done this before. you know this by heart now—the cruelty, the apology, the way she pushes until something tears and then panics at the sight of blood. something crashes behind you—the bowl, judging by the noise, water slapping across the floor in a violent splash. you hear her swear under her breath, then the quick shuffle of her boots as she nearly slips.

"please!" she begs again, no hint of mockery in her tone now, just the sound of someone ripping themselves open trying to get the word out.

this time, you pause. not because you forgive her—not even close—but because you can't pretend you didn't hear that when the word lodges itself under your ribs. you turn slowly, taking in her wrecked face. the bravado is gone, the smirk is gone; all that's left is the wild look in her bright pink eyes blown wide with panic. her chest is heaving. you can see every breath, rapid and shallow like she can't pull enough air into her lungs. fine tremors move through her whole body as the adrenaline starts draining away, leaving her standing there raw and painfully young.

you stare at her, months of pain in your own expression as you shake your head in disbelief. "this isn't all you are, Jinx."

"yeah?" her mouth twists as she sniffles once, angrily wiping at her face with the heel of her palm. "so what am i?"

you open your mouth, closing it just as fast. because what can you even say anymore? that Jinx is brilliant and creative and funny in the strangest ways? that she sees beauty in things everyone else overlooks? that you love her?

all of it is true, but none of it is enough to keep her out of the pit.

"i can't watch you die," you say finally, stepping away from her. "i can't stand there and watch you kill yourself one fight at a time. i can't."

"then don't watch."

"Jinx—"

"i'm serious." her jaw sets in that stubborn line you know too well. "you don't have to watch. i'll keep fighting, you'll keep worrying, we'll keep doing this dance until—"

"until what? until they carry you out of that pit in pieces?"

"maybe!" her hands fly up, manic energy crackling through her again. she starts pacing, steps quick and uneven. "maybe that's how it ends! maybe i don't get a happy ending. i'm fine with that, why can't you—"

"Jinx, stop!" you reach for her, forcing her to stop moving. she stumbles, freezing under your hand, skin hot and pulse racing where your thumb presses into the inside of her wrist. "just stop. please."

she looks at you, and for a moment—one fleeting moment—you see past the bravado and the mania to the Powder underneath, scared and small and bracing for impact. "i don't want to lose you, too," she whispers. "i know i need you."

"you need help."

"i need you." the insistence is immediate and desperate enough to make your stomach twist.

"that's not fair," you whisper, shaking your head. "you can't put that on me."

"i know, baby. i know it's not fair. you really should go," she admits easily. "you should, but if you try, i swear i'll still crawl after you."

Jinx then staggers forward, swaying slightly before ultimately dropping to her knees on the dirty floor and crawling the short distance between you, forehead pressing against your stomach like a starving dog finally let in from the cold to a warm meal.

"i'll win for you. i'll be smarter. i'll build you a fucking house out of scrap and sleep on the floor if that's what it takes." she's panting, breath hot and erratic, shaky hands already fumbling under your top and clutching at your waist.

"i'll do anything." she looks up, pupils blown wide. her eyes shine wet under the dim light, and it's impossible to tell whether she's genuinely on the verge of tears or just desperate enough to weaponize them. maybe there's no difference anymore. "anything you say," she whispers. "you want me begging, baby? i'll beg. i'll cry. just don't go. i need you. i need you."

your hands hover uselessly above her head. you don't know what this is—manipulation, panic, love, fear. Jinx has always used every weapon in her arsenal when she's cornered: cruelty, guilt, charm, violence. but this—this trembling, frantic thing at your feet—feels too raw to entirely fake.

"you said you'd quit," you whisper again, voice trembling, but your fingers are already sinking into the short blue strands at the back of her head. the chopped-off remnants of what used to reach her ankles curl around your knuckles easily now. "last month, you promised me—"

"i know."

"and the month before that—"

"i know."

"so why should i believe you this time?"

for a second, she just kneels there, breathing against your stomach. "you shouldn't," she says, and the honesty hurts more than any other promise would have. "i've lied before. i'll probably lie again. but right now? the truth is i don't wanna lose you. even when i’m mean.” she swallows, forehead pressing more firmly against you like she’s bracing herself. “maybe… maybe especially then.”

it's pathetic how quickly you give in at that, how fast it escalates as the anger drains out of your body. one second you're standing there, trying to leave her; the next, she’s dragging you down onto the mattress in one graceless motion, pulling your shirt over your head and licking her lips when soft tits spill out, nipples already pebbled from the permanent cold in her hideout.

"missed this," she mutters, burying her face in your chest with a needy whine as if she's trying to crawl inside your skin and make a home out of your ribs. she presses closer with every breath, like if she could split you open and tuck herself somewhere beneath your sternum, behind your heartbeat, she might actually stop shaking.

she shouldn't be touching you like this; not when her jaw clicks every time she swallows from where that other fighter clipped her clean in round two, but she's too far gone to care. "missed you. you're so fucking warm, baby." her hands roam without direction—waist, back, waist again—like she's checking whether you're real or just another cruel joke supplied by her mind. she finally tilts her head up, looking at you through damp lashes. "can i taste you?" she asks softly. "please?"

you nod, because how can you not? the second Jinx gets like this—wild and greedy and strung out on need—it flips something inside you. it makes you forget every mean word, every cruel statement thrown at you. you're on your back in no time, pants yanked off with your legs draped over her freckled shoulders, pussy soaked and fluttering around nothing as she mouths at you like she's dying of thirst. she keeps an arm wrapped around your thigh, holding you down while the other slips under your ass, tilting you up into her mouth. Jinx eats like a girl who hasn't touched softness in weeks, hips canting uselessly into the mattress like she gets off on your taste alone. like forgiveness is something she finds deep inside your cunt and your cunt only.

she moans shamelessly at every twitch of your thighs, tongue flattening against your puffy folds before she drags it slow in up and down licks. "please," she begs between desperate strokes, fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises matching hers. "please, don't leave me. i'll be so good for you. i'll fight better. i'll win cleaner. i'll quit, i swear—just don't fucking leave me."

you're gasping, fingers tangling in her damp strands and holding on tightly as your hips start to rock into her mouth with every ragged breath, legs closing around her ears, helpless to the pace. "god… fuck, Jinx—"

"that's it. let me have it," she whimpers, nearly coming untouched right there and then at the sound of your moan, the kitteny mewls echoing in her hideout only making her hungrier. "let me fucking keep you. you want me on a leash, baby? you want me on my knees every night? just say it. just don't go."

she sobs into your cunt, trembling as she adds her fingers, slipping two in too easily and curling them until you keen, choking on pleasure, clutching at her like she'll disappear if you let go.

"oh, fuck! yes—yes, right there—!"

she pants when she finally comes up for air, lips shiny, chin soaked in a mixture of slick and spit, fingers still working you open in a relentless rhythm. "see? i'll fix everything. i'll make you proud of me again. i'll be your best girl." her other hand strokes your thigh like she's petting something precious, licking sloppier now as she humps harder, her own panties sticking uncomfortably to her neglected cunt. "you make me feel—mmph—clean. i might be the… the dirtiest fucking thing in this city, but you still let me eat like i'm worthy."

you can't even answer anymore—just a string of broken gasps between senseless babbling as she shoves her fingers deeper, grinding them into your sweetest spot while her mouth seals around your throbbing clit again.

"stay still," she rasps, only holding you down harder when you squeal and try to jerk away from the overwhelming sensation. her own whines are rising as she pants between licks, kissing you through every twitch and tremor like she's scared this will end. like she's fucking for her life. "you missed me too, didn't ya?"

"mmnh—y-yeah, missed… missed you—"

Jinx moans like it's a reward, pink eyes shining with adoration as they lock onto your flushed face. she sees you drool just a little, nodding like a ragdoll, eyes rolling back with every pass of her tongue against your sensitive bud.

"so come for me," she pleads, borderline delirious with it, eyes glistening. "come for me, and i swear i'll never bleed for anyone else again."

and you do, body seizing up as you orgasm hard in tear-slicked bliss, hips still bucking into her while you cream around her fingers, cunt fluttering in delight. she just groans and licks you through it like it's the best of aphrodisiacs, sweat running down her own back. even when you tremble and whine and try to shift away, she follows, not letting up just yet.

"i'm not done," she breathes, still coaxing you through it like she's trying to drag something holier out of you. "i have more to prove. let me prove it. let me be good for you."

"Jinx—s'too much, slow down!" your hands push weakly at her shoulders, more reflex than real resistance, your whole body trembling under her.

"then stay," she gasps immediately. "stay and i'll stop. i'll slow down."

"i will! i will, just… just gentler, please—!"

"you want me soft? you want me sweet?" she whispers, kissing your shaking thigh on the way up your body, crawling over you fully and pressing herself flush against you like she's trying to fuse you together. "i'll be that," she murmurs lovingly, tongue dragging over the sweat at your pulse. “just say you want me. say you still want me.”

“i do! i promise i do, just—mmph—”

she sucks a hickey into the hollow of your throat while she pumps her fingers deeper, thumb mean against your clit, and your gasps melt into sobs. you try to roll your hips away from the intensity, only to have Jinx whine and chase you again, pinning you fully beneath her weight. you moan loud, wrung out and overstimulated, but your legs spread open wider nonetheless, pleasure overriding everything else.

"oh my god," she gasps in awe, "you love it. you love me like this. all fucked and stupid over you. i know i get mean, baby… but i love you. i love you, i promise.”

the words should make you angry. instead, they go straight through you. she kisses you hard before you can answer, moaning softly into your mouth when you arch against her on instinct. you taste yourself on her tongue, all salt and musk. it's filthy, intimate in the ugliest way possible. it should feel wrong. it does feel wrong.

but that's just part of it, isn’t it?

"come again," she pants, eyes pleading as her forehead knocks against yours. "one more time, baby, just give it to me. let me make you come and then you can run…" a shaky laugh escapes her then, eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment. "if you still have the energy to."

and there it is again—that awful thing living between you. the push and pull of it. cruelty wrapped around devotion so tightly neither of you can tell where one ends and the other begins anymore. every sharp edge softened by desparation. every act of tenderness permanently poisoned.

the truly unforgivable part is that, somewhere along the way, this stopped feeling like something either of you knows how to survive without.

— divider by @/cursed-carmine !!

ᯓ ☘︎ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @thisrots ; @sketch303 ; @ripleysnightmare ; @ne0nspr1te ; @esop3 ; @dollifonts ; @lesmerri ; @simply-hyena ; @faerieschronicles ; @honeyyl3mon ; @autistic4jinx ; @bluefootedbooby ; @toomuchbutter ; @evereenashaven ; @ladynoctambule ; @katilina-blog ; @prettywitchybitch ; @seungminluv3 ; @urdeadpoet ; @hrtnovas ; @shootingc

the way she snuggles up behind you when you sleep over at the hideout, “innocently” pressing her body against yours and resting her chin on your shoulder. how, without fail, her knee always slides between your legs like she’s just getting comfortable, her arm slipping around your waist so you can’t really move without rubbing against her too.

or the way she pouts when you cancel plans with her. how her smile tightens when you mention another person’s name too often. the way she clings enough to make you feel wanted… and powder knows you like feeling needed, so she feeds it to you in controlled doses, like she’s rationing something she has an endless supply of.

“i just miss you sometimes.” she’ll mumble, pretty blue eyes soft as they look into yours and her fingers trace absent patterns on your arm. “is that so bad?”

and you melt, of course, because it’s powder. the one who would never, ever make you feel guilty on purpose.

except she kinda does, and it seeps into you like something you don’t notice until it’s already part of you. you start thinking twice before making plans, checking your phone more often, wondering if she texted, if she’s upset, if she’s waiting for you.

when you don’t and you’re out and distracted, powder gets this awful sinking feeling in her stomach. her only consolation is that she knows you’ll come to her eventually. if not, she’ll just have to toy with the strings herself. feeding people lies and bad information about you — you’re busy, you’re not interested, you said something about them that you didn’t, etc. just enough to throw things off and ruin any potential connection.

she’ll be there with open arms before you even ask, pulling you into her lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. which it undoubtedly is, you’ve done this a thousand times before. and god, the sounds you make when you cry do something to her. as her thumb brushes under your eye, catching your tears before they fall, she watches you like she’s trying to drink the moment in and keep it.

it’s in times like these that powder has to hold her own tongue from smiling in triumph. the fact that you’re in her lap, bawling your eyes out while she holds you tight gives her a euphoric feeling inside. still, she pretends to be sympathetic, caressing your back soothingly as you vent. she presses her lips to your hair, your face, sometimes the corner of your lips but just barely brushing where she can pretend was accidental.

you never pull away, of course... she’s just comforting you! but her mind is somewhere else entirely. she’s thinking about how perfectly you fit against her, and how easy it is to keep you here. she doesn’t even have to try that hard, all it takes are just a few carefully chosen words.

“they don’t deserve you”

“i’d never treat you like that”

“you know i’d stay no matter what, right?”

the fact that they’re not even lies only makes it so easy for her. powder would stay through everything. your breakdowns, your anger, your messiest, ugliest moments.

slowly, you start needing her more than anyone else. you start coming to her first, and trusting her most like it’s something you can’t go without. that’s exactly what she’s needed all this time, to be your one and only in as many ways as possible. your best friend, your closest confidant, the person you trust the most, the person you run to when things go wrong. ideally your girlfriend too, but powder is patient enough to wait for that part if it means the end result sticks.

the thought of being that deeply connected to you and having that exclusive place in your life is intoxicating to her, so she has no problem pretending that she’s not guiding you there, or that she doesn’t feel that deep satisfaction every time you look at her like she’s the only safe place left in your world. to you, she’s still the girl everyone swears could never do anything wrong.