#comfort parallel powder

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Ghosts Like That

|| Parallel Powder x fem!reader

|| Warnings; season two episode seven spoilers, reader has PTSD about the heist, descriptions of PTSD and anxiety, brief swearing, hurt/comfort/fluff

|| Summary; when reader finds herself back in memories she would rather forget, Powder helps her back to the present.

Requests closed!

Started; December 16th

Finished; December 17th

HurtCember2024; Day 14, Near Death

~~~

It's been years since you nearly got caught in that explosion along with Vi. Years. You weren't even close to being over it. You'd almost died. That was... well, the closest thing to a near death experience you'd ever had. It was terrifying. You were just a kid. It still haunted you in your dreams. Seared into your mind as though it had just happened in the present moment. Ghosts like that never really leave.

You'd been up working in your girlfriend's workshop. She often let you tinker with the bits she wasn't going to use. Who was she to stop a creative mind, after all? You caught a flicker of a blue flash from a spark and suddenly you were back in that fancy piltover workshop. Your breathing picked up, the sound of an explosion ringing between your ears. Your eyes teared up and you cupped the side of your head. Screaming to get out the overstimulation you were feeling. Or, at least trying to get it out. Your whole body buzzed with phantom pain. A jitter to your bones you couldn't quite shake.

Powder had just gotten home after visiting with Vander and Silco at the bar. Humming happily to herself. Until your scream cut through the air. Panic flared inside her chest, adrenaline spiking. She burst the door open so fast she was shocked it didn't go flying. Her heart sank at the sight of you; her legs moving before her mind could catch up. In no time at all, she had you in her arms. Cradling you. Holding you close with care. Fearing to make it worse.

"Shh, shh, you're okay. Just breathe. You're at the workshop. Breathe. Feel the seat under you," Powder tried desperately to ground you. It wasn't her first time handling the PTSD you had. She'd come to learn your triggers and the methods that helped calm you.

You could faintly hear your girlfriend talking. But you couldn't see her. Not- her her, anyway. You saw little Powder. The workshop. Little Powder trying to talk to you and ease you through it. This- wasn't how the memory went. The realization of that is what helped you to start grounding yourself. Slowly, the fancy workshop around you faded. Replaced with the familiar one you'd grown to find comfort in. The colours. The work bench. The art work on the walls that was a combination of both yours and Powder's drawings. Heck, even Mylo got around to sticking one up of himself. It was terribly drawn and you couldn't help but chuckle looking at. Even in your state.

Powder looked down at you, following your eyes to the picture Mylo had put up recently. She smirked, her thumb brushing your arm," Mylo isn't the best artist in the world, is he?" Powder asked. Hoping the picture would make for the perfect distraction for you.

You shook your head, leaning into her chest," no. I've seen better drawings from kids," you laughed. Powder eased at the sound. You were laughing, that was a good sign. Even if it was at Mylo's expense.

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's supposed to be his arm or his head," Powder pointed to the art. Squinting her eyes to get a better look. Maybe it was a blaster of some sort? Fuck if she knew.

"Pfft, he looks more like a spider than a Mylo," you smirked at your own comment. Powder burst out laughing, nodding in agreement to you. He did, didn't he? He could have presented the drawing as a spider and she would have fully believed it.

Powder's eyes focused back on you. Her expression softened, admiring the little crinkle next to your eye. Caused by the smile on your lips. You turned around pretty quickly this time. Maybe that was a sign of it getting better? Powder sure hoped so. She didn't like seeing you in pain, "How you feeling?" She asked, being careful not to trigger you again.

"Better," you murmured. Snuggling up to your girlfriend in the chair. Eyes still on Mylo's picture. Who knew a poorly drawn Mylo would have been what helped calm you down?

"Good," Powder gave you a gentle kiss. Your lips moving against hers in slow, practiced movements. The last of the memory fading from your mind. Hoping that it wouldn't be back any time soon.

[adieutristana]

could you write something about jinx in the alternate universe x fem reader? something like putting on makeup and painting their nails together talking about the future

ohh this is adorable! thank you for requesting <3

no joke i listened to geronimo’s cadillac by modern talking on loop the entire time i was writing this. please give it a listen it’s amazing

summary: powder (act iii) and fem! reader getting ready together.

characters: powder (act iii au)

tags/warnings: fluff, act iii spoilers, i can’t think of anything else honestly?

men dni.

the gentle sound of a guitar fills the cluttered room over a stereo.

you’re sat with your legs crossed parallel to powder, who is currently taking various makeup products out of a small pouch. she settles on her products of choice, and she presses her lips together in a thin line before glancing up at you.

“ready?”

she asks.

“ready as i’ll ever be.”

you affirm with a small nod. your girlfriend’s eyes soften as her lips tug into a gentle smile. the smile you’ve grown so fond of over the past few years. the smile that makes every hardship during the day, every obstacle, every moment of insecurity worth it. your heart tightened in your chest as she dipped a brush into a yellow shade in her palette and leaned over you.

“close your eyes.”

her soft voice says. she gently brushes shades of light yellow over your eyelids, the sensation foreign and odd. slightly ticklish. you try to keep a straight face for powder, not wanting to mess up her work, but you can’t help your face loosely scrunching up every now and again. she whispers little comforts such as ‘relax,’ or ‘just a little longer’ before you hear the palette snapping shut.

you open your eyes to the sight of powder scrambling on the floor for a tube of mascara. she picks out a few lipstick tubes mistakenly, then finally lands on a skinny tube of black mascara. she twists it open, and this time instructs you to keep your eyes open. it’s tough to not blink, but you manage, and powder’s smile makes a return. that damned smile.

“you know, trinket, this is pretty nice. getting away from the chaos of the academy and everyone else. i like when we have these moments, just you and me.”

powder communicates as she brushes rouge on your cheeks, switching sides then examining your face to make sure you have an equal amount of product on each side. you nod in affirmation and take her free hand to slowly intertwine your fingers with hers.

“hopefully we’ll have many more of them to come.”

you reply.

she just chuckles in response before moving on to lipstick, twisting up the tube to reveal a dusty pink shade. she’s now impossibly close to you as she ever-so-lightly parts your lips, and you can feel her breathing against your skin. her focus is laser sharp as she applies the lipstick.

“all done!”

powder exclaims, grabbing your shoulders and helping you up from the floor. she leads you over to a mirror and stands directly behind you, hands still gripping your shoulders.

“do you like it? i think i did a pretty good job.”

she giggles, and your expression is one of slight shock- only for a moment.

“powder… you really outdid yourself. it’s beautiful.”

you whisper, gazing at yourself in the mirror. your eyelids sparkle bright, the shades she chose perfectly compliment your complexion. your eyelashes look longer than ever. you around to wrap her in a tight embrace. she lets out a content hum, relaxing in your arms and letting you ruffle her choppy blue hair.

“you’re beautiful.”

you place your chin atop powder’s head for just a second, looking at the two of you in the mirror- a happy couple- before an idea comes to you.

“hey, love?”

“hm?”

“you did my makeup… why don’t you let me paint your nails?”

you offer, pulling back to give her a promising look. she looks to the side, playfully tapping her chin with her index finger before enthusiastically nodding. you give her a lighthearted scoff, and head over to a clear drawer with nail polish.

she has almost every color of the rainbow. assorted purples, pinks, yellows, hues of turquoise and azure; but you land on a metallic sky blue. one that matches her beautiful blue hair. after making your choice, you look over to see powder is already sat back in the spot she occupied before.

“i don’t think i’ve ever painted someone else’s nails before,”

you comment, palms shaky. you’d painted your own countless times, but never another person’s. powder just reached over with the hand that wasn’t yet painted, and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

with that gesture, you open the bottle and begin slowly brushing over each nail. the blue looked even more beautiful on powder than it did in the bottle. she looked down at what you were doing, then back up at you, then back down. a cycle. your girlfriend tried to keep her eyes off of you, but she just couldn't. you looked so cute when you were so focused.

"i know we're going to this party later, but do you wanna grab something to eat afterward?"

powder asks. those kind eyes looking straight into yours. you hummed and nodded, trying not to break your focus.

"i'd like that. maybe we can walk around a bit after, look at the undercity at night?" you suggested with a hum.

powder gave you a smile.

"that'd be nice. maybe get a glimpse into our life after you graduate.. where do you think we'll be then?"

you're finally finished the girl's nails, and you pull back. she looks at them for a moment, examining the way the light catches the metallic polish from multiple angles. you take a pause to think as you screw the lid back onto the bottle.

"...i'm not sure. but we'll be happy, right? maybe we'll get married."

"married? you move fast!" powder teased.

"pow-pow, we've been together for two years."

she gives your shoulder a light shove, giggling before she places a chaste kiss on your cheek. one that'll probably leave a stain in its wake.

"i know, silly. i'm just teasing. i'd love to get married to you one day.. but you've gotta finish that degree first!"

"that seems like forever away." you groan to yourself, under your breath.

"hey, it's not so bad. we can go on a lot of adventures between now and then, right? i'll be at your graduation, you'll be there for all of my milestones. it works out!"

you just smiled, shaking your head. powder was right. the two of you had all the time in the world on your hands, all the opportunities to do whatever you chose. that was one of the greatest things. that you had time, and someone you loved by your side. someone who loved you.

you inch closer to powder and wrap your arms around her waist loosely. she raises her eyebrows at the sudden proximity, but is relaxed. you close the distance between you and your girlfriend, placing your lips on hers, settling into a gentle rhythm. feeling one of her hands settle on your lower back and the other cradling the back of your head. feeling her smile against your lips.

as you pull away, you notice powder looking at you with those big baby blues. she's giddy and smiling ear-to-ear, then swiftly brings you into an even tighter embrace, flush to her chest.

"we should probably get going, shouldn't we?"

"probably.. but it won't be a big deal if we're a few minutes late."

you comment. powder just chuckles and pulls you into another kiss.

[joicecubes]

my take on this scene (arcane s2 act 2 spoilers. obviously)

if you’re active within the arcane fandom space recently i’m sure you’ve at least stumbled across the discourse where someone interpreted this exchange to be vi “realizing jinx is a better older sister” or something. personally i think it’s a lot less about comparison and a lot more about guilt.

vi has felt responsible for jinx her entire life. she was her protector when they were kids. she abandoned her after vander, milo, and claggor’s deaths leading silco to take her in. jinx went on to work for him. she killed caitlyn’s mother in the council meeting explosion. everything jinx has done and every horrible thing she’s experienced has been a direct result (at least in vi’s mind) of her own failures as an older sibling. and despite her guilt, eventually she forced herself to accept that powder didn’t exist anymore. even more painful, that since she’s the one who caused jinx to be this way, she also has to take responsibility and stand by caitlyn’s side in ensuring jinx won’t hurt anyone else.

but she fails. jinx runs free, vi wallows in her breakup sorrows, and the next time they see each other, jinx… has changed. and she has that same kid with her from their fight. and she’s come to vi willingly for her help.

i think vi is thinking a lot of things when she sees jinx comforting isha. surprise, firstly, to see this side of jinx she hasn’t seen since they were kids. the jinx she knows is a shell of her former self, changed beyond belief, and yet vi watches as jinx softens and treats isha with so much care. helps her dust herself off, says something vi might’ve said to powder what feels like a lifetime ago. “still got all your insides?”

the truth of it is, it’s not jinx being a better older sister than vi was. it’s jinx emulating what vi once was to her, and i think vi catches onto that. she’s watching as an outsider now, jinx and isha paralleling what her and powder’s relationship used to be like and i think it would make sense if the strongest thing she’s feeling right now is longing. how devastating it is that their relationship feels so irreparable, how deeply she wishes she hadn’t hurt powder so long ago.

but there’s also hope in her asking “why’d you come get me? you don’t actually need my help.” sure, she’s still bitter. how could she not be, after everything that’s happened between them? but she recognizes that jinx doesn’t need her anymore, it becomes especially clear seeing jinx taking care of someone else like vi used to take care of her. so why seek her out? why drag her all the way out here? there’s a deep, wounded, guilty part of her that’s desperate for reconciliation, so she reaches for it. especially now that she has no one else.

they make me so sad :(

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

Vi and her Counterpart’s Violence

Okay so as soon as I saw this scene in s2e3, I was immediately reminded of this scene in s1e6

Vi sees someone she loves, someone she perceives as innocent and in dire need of protection, being so comfortable with violence. She doesn’t have a problem with violence, if anything she uses it as a tool, but she has a problem with certain other people doing the same. Why should they be so violent when she has it handled? When she is meant to be the violent one, shielding them from getting to that level?

Caitlyn and Jinx are never beating the mirror allegations

In both scenes, Vi calls out her counterpart’s name multiple times. But, of course, instead of calling Jinx by her chosen name, she calls her Powder. And instead of calling Caitlyn by her given name, she calls her Cait. ‘Jinx’ represents Vi’s greatest failure, the opposite of who Powder is meant to be, while ‘Caitlyn’ seems represent privilege and power, the two major things enabling Caitlyn to act in such an opposite way to how she’s ‘meant’ to. ‘Caitlyn’ is who everyone else knows. They know Caitlyn Kiramman. Vi knows Cait. Vi knows her Cupcake. (Still a little confused on why we haven’t heard that at all this season?)

Violence is Vi’s. It’s hers because she refuses for it to be her counterpart’s. Of course, we’ve said this a million times: Vi is a protector first and foremost. A protector fails when their protectee is exposed to the weight on the protector’s shoulders. Vi was never meant to be innocent and she never seems to resent that, all she does is take it as a challenge that has no failing option.

In both seasons, Vi was pulled away from the situation and everything was interrupted. But, at least in s2, she got to talk to Caitlyn after. The problem is that there was such an obvious disconnect. It doesn’t matter if there was a kid, Caitlyn would have gotten the shot. It doesn’t matter if Caitlyn would have gotten the shot, there was a kid. (Although, I do think this whole kid thing is interesting after seeing how Vi feels about collateral damage when Jayce killed that Chembaron’s child. Maybe after seeing the council explosion, Caitlyn’s grief and that same Chembaron plan a terrorist attack, she’s changed her mind?)

Vi gets to view violence as a necessity. Vi gets to choose when violence is right or wrong, not who she’s supposed to be protecting. Vi gets to find comfort in violence, not who she’s supposed to be protecting.

Vi begging Caitlyn not to change isn’t just about everyone else in her life changing, it’s about forcing her own position to change as well when she finds so much comfort in it.

Anyway, I just think the parallels between these scenes are pretty cool and also getting to see Vi on the receiving end of violence from who she’s meant to be protecting is so interesting. I do wish the parallels were hammered home a little bit more because the scene in s1, you could really see it in Vi’s face and hear it in her voice how fearful she was of seeing Powder like that throughout the whole scene, while the fight scene felt a little short and the argument after left me wanting a bit more! Even tho I did appreciate the intensity of Caitlyn saying Jinx’s blood is in Vi’s veins and Vi saying Caitlyn is the one acting like her and all Caitlyn can respond with is violence, further proving Vi’s point and hurting her even more. I appreciate it all, but I hate to say that it feels like it’s missing something! I think what I wanted to hear from Vi was more than ‘It’s a kid!’ I wanted Vi to try to wake Caitlyn up, cry to her about her and Powder’s childhood’s, throw Caitlyn’s argument about ‘the cycle of violence’ back at her. But we didn’t get that.

[adore-laur]

CALIFORNIA DUSK

— birth of baby #2 in the dadrry universe 🌊

——

6:24 AM

California dawn brings serenity to the house. The sun is leisurely rising, painting the sky with wispy pink brushstrokes across an endless canvas of powder blue. Seagulls croon as they fly parallel to the hazy horizon, gracefully dipping their claws down in the water to catch their first meal of the day. Waves crash against the vacant ocean shore with persistence, as if to announce that morning has arrived once again.

Soon, golden rays will seep through the flowing curtains and cast shapes on the hardwood floors. The trees will start to sway from the coastal breeze, sending earthy scents of pine and cedar into the kitchen. Toys scattered in the living room from the night before will be left alone to wallow until their owner sleepily waddles from her bedroom with a yawn and an empty stomach.

A spoon clinks against the edge of a mug, echoing throughout the tranquil kitchen as chickadees sing their song near the window. Yet the current calmness of your surroundings doesn't quite match how you feel inside.

Being awake for the past two hours—hunched over the kitchen island and rocking side to side while breathing through painful cramping—isn't how you would've liked to commence your morning. Harry is brewing homemade coffee for himself since there's a high chance it will be a long, tiresome day ahead. He's been up with you since you started having contractions, and you tried to convince him to keep sleeping, but there was no way to persuade him since he's naturally an early riser. And you know he would never let you handle the discomfort alone.

Your daughter is still fast asleep in her room down the hall, oblivious to how soon she'll be a big sister. You're not looking to traumatize her at a young age, so Harry's mother is on her way to pick her up in case you give birth.

You've decided on a natural water birth this time. Being in the hospital for your first childbirth experience was tolerable, but the atmosphere gave you tremendous anxiety. The nurses hovering over you, the constant beeping of the machines, and the stale room all felt suffocating. You're confident you'll feel more at ease in the comfort of your own home, with only Harry and the midwife witnessing you in your most vulnerable state.

As the pain temporarily alleviates in your abdomen, you slowly straighten your posture and walk some laps around the living room. There's nothing you can do except hang tight and see if anything progresses. The contractions haven't gotten to the point of being unbearable, but they still beg the question of whether you'll be having a baby today. It's a waiting game.

Harry is surprisingly relaxed, and you suppose it's because this isn't his first rodeo. Seeing the difference in his composure compared to the first time you went into labor is humorous. He had clammy hands, was a stuttering mess, and also forgot to bring his driver's license when he drove you to the hospital.

Now, it's like he has never been more prepared for anything in his entire life. He could be hiding his nerves well, but otherwise, he's extremely put together as he whistles the "We Just Got a Letter" jingle from Blue's Clues that always gets stuck in his head because your daughter watches the show every morning. He's already dressed for the birth that might not even happen today—swim shorts for when he gets in the birthing pool with you and a faded graphic tee that looks like it has seen better days. His favorite blue baseball cap is snug on his head, covering his messy hair that curls upwards underneath. He looks casually gorgeous in the morning light.

After your tenth lap, you wander back to the kitchen and stand beside Harry as he drops two slices of bread into the toaster. He looks down at you and smiles.

"Hi," he says, leaning his hip against the counter. "Contraction over with?"

"For now," you reply dully. "I'm sure there'll be plenty more."

He jerks his chin toward the sink. "I want you to drink some water."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Please just drink one glass for me, baby," he says, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a jar of grape jam. "Let's not have a repeat of last time."

You roll your eyes and steal a cup from the drying rack. He clearly remembers when you vomited at the hospital just hours before giving birth. Yes, you were dehydrated, but that was the last thing on your mind.

As you sip cloudy tap water, you watch Harry silently spread jam onto his perfectly browned toast. He's been too quiet this morning—entirely cool, calm, and collected. You miss his delirious morning humor.

"You're scaring me."

Harry freezes with the butter knife in his grasp. "I didn't know your husband making breakfast was a fear of yours."

There it is!

"No, not that." You wipe off a glob of jam on his thumb. "You're just really relaxed right now."

Setting his toast on a plate, he turns to you with a crease between his eyebrows. "Should I be freaking out?"

"Well, I might give birth soon," you say, your heart rate increasing at the mere thought. "Doesn't that, I don't know, make you nervous?"

"Of course, I'm nervous," he replies, gently squeezing your shoulders. "I'm sure I'll be a hot mess once you're in full-on labor. I'm just enjoying the morning with you while you're still pregnant. You know... soaking it all in."

You release a shaky exhale, your mind spiraling as everything becomes more real the longer you talk about how you'll be a family of four very soon. "Okay," you whisper unconvincingly. "That makes sense."

Harry obviously doesn't buy it because he stares at you briefly before trapping your fidgeting hands with his own. "What's going on?"

"I'm freaking out," you admit weakly. Your voice wavers, and the lump in your throat is hard to swallow.

His face softens with sympathy as your eyes gloss over with tears. "Let's walk down to the shore," he suggests, kissing your forehead. "Just you and me before it gets crazy in here."

Sniffling, you ask, "What if I can't make it back to the house?"

"Then I'll carry you."

"Good luck with that," you mutter before grabbing your phone from the kitchen table. "Let's go while I have a break from contractions."

He nods, taking his plate and the baby monitor from the countertop, and then leads the way out the patio door.

During the short journey there, your heart blooms with fondness when you catch Harry smiling to himself as he walks, his tattooed arms swinging. It's too endearing not to keep as a permanent memory, so you open the camera on your phone and press record. The fresh air has rapidly lifted your mood, and you're thankful for it.

"What are you grinning about over there?"

Harry looks up and gives the camera a big, open-mouthed smile, pure excitement exuding from him. He's been waiting so patiently for another baby, and now it's slowly but surely becoming reality.

"What's got you so happy?" You laugh and stop recording.

He shrugs, still smiling contagiously. "I can't believe it's happening. It just hit me right now."

Both of you reach the sand and sit away from the lapping waves in case you have to head back to the house promptly. Harry places himself behind you, a position that's supposed to help when a contraction comes. You can hold onto his legs for leverage and support, and he can massage wherever you're hurting.

"I can't believe it either," you reply with a pensive shake of your head.

"Talk to me. How are you feeling?" Harry asks, taking a crunchy bite of toast. "Emotionally, I mean."

Talk to me. It's a three-word sentence he's been saying to you for years. He always wants to know how you're feeling whenever you bottle up your thoughts—anger, sorrow, or happiness. It has never changed, and it never fails to help immensely.

"I'm not as nervous as last time," you answer, closing your eyes when he starts playing with your hair. "I feel more prepared since I know what to expect, but it's terrifying that I'm doing it naturally this time."

He hums in acknowledgment. "That's completely valid. No one expects you to be one hundred percent confident when pushing a baby out, no matter how many times you've done it before. Just know that I'm eternally grateful that you've grown two beautiful babies for us. You're a superstar."

"Thanks. I just feel like—" You gasp suddenly, your hand quickly shooting to your side as another contraction hits.

"Okay," Harry says soothingly, grabbing your hand so you can squeeze his own. He quickly unlocks his phone to set a timer. "It's okay. Breathe with me."

You inhale and exhale through the internal pain, the tight cramping making you lean back against his chest. "Harry, it hurts," you cry as your other hand grips his knee. "Ow, ow, ow."

"I've got you. Just breathe through it." He lifts the hem of your oversized shirt and spreads his hand on your stomach. It's stretched beyond belief and has dropped significantly throughout the past week. "Focus on my breathing, all right? And relax your shoulders. They're too tense."

You breathe with him as he massages your lower back. Your face is getting hot and your throat is dry, but the only thing you can fully pinpoint is the penetrating pain.

"Tell me something. Please distract me."

Harry kisses your temple. "You look really pretty."

"Shut up," you mumble with a laugh that quickly turns into a groan of discomfort.

"I'm serious. I love how you look in the morning when the sun hits your face, like right now. It makes you glow even more than usual. And the way it brightens your eyes reminds me so much of our daughter." He turns your face so you're looking at him. "I see you in her all the time."

You smile weakly and rest your head on the dip between his neck and shoulder. "Yeah, but she has your bunny teeth."

His deep, comforting laugh vibrates against your back. "Mm, you'd be the one to notice that."

You just tiredly nod as the contraction subsides. You make a good guess that you're not close to labor yet because of how far apart and mild they've been so far. The midwife is only five minutes away, so there's no dire need for her to come and check on you.

"I think that one's done." You carefully sit up and release his hand. "How long was it?"

Harry checks his phone. "Forty-seven seconds."

"Short," you think aloud. "They've been irregular, so I think they might be Braxton Hicks."

He dramatically falls back onto the sand and spreads his arms out. "Does that mean no baby today?"

You snort and cuddle up next to him. "Soon. You have to be patient."

He's silent for a minute before asking, "Isn't sex supposed to induce labor?"

You scoff and swat at his chest. "I swear you asked me that last time."

"Oh, I definitely did. You rejected me and then literally didn't go into labor until a week later, remember? You should've listened to me."

"I don't think it would be enjoyable for either of us if we tried. I couldn't even walk down here without feeling like passing out."

Harry draws patterns on your belly with his finger, causing a response of fluttery kicks from the baby. "I know, I'm only joking. We don't have to be anywhere or do anything right now. Let's stay out here for a little bit, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan," you mumble into his shoulder. The world around you drowns out like the shells under the waves as you focus on his heartbeat. The rhythmic thumping of your favorite part of him lulls you to sleep, his hand gently stroking your hair as time passes with each movement of the sun.

Your nerves wash away with each ocean tide, and you know everything will be all right.

——

7:03 PM 

The tub is ready.

You are not.

A shirtless Harry is already sitting in the circular birthing pool, looking like he's ready to deliver the baby himself. You've changed into your swimsuit and are now vaguely listening to what the midwife is telling you as you lean against the wall and suffer through another contraction—a particularly strong one that indicates you're going to start pushing soon.

Your water has already broken, and you're not quite sure why you're waiting until the very last second to get into the tub, but nothing in your mind is making sense due to the overwhelming pain. The bedroom is too small, the lights are too bright, the way Harry's dotingly looking at you is too much, and your body feels too weak even though it's about to perform the most vigorous exercise imaginable.

"We need you in the tub so I can check your dilation," says the midwife, snapping you out of your overthinking spiral.

"I-I can't," you reply helplessly. "I don't think I can do this. I don't want to do this."

You regret not just sucking it up and going to the hospital so they can inject you with an epidural.

"I am going to do everything I can to give you a safe and smooth delivery process," she assures you. "Your husband is waiting for you. He's going to be your support system the entire time, okay? Do you trust him to do that?"

You frantically nod your head—you've never trusted anyone more. "The water will help with the pain," she adds with a kind smile. "It will relax your muscles and make you feel very nice. Can you get in the tub for me? Harry will help you."

You look at him, seeing his slightly shaky hands beckon you closer. You swallow and take a deep breath before slowly approaching him. Equipment scatters the floor and the bed beside you—clean blankets, a tarp for the mess, towels, medical supplies, and a cup of ice.

Harry carefully helps you into the birthing tub, positioning you so your back is against his bare chest. Once you're situated in the lukewarm water, you focus on his heartbeat pounding double-time.

"I can't do this," you repeat as you slide your swimsuit bottoms off.

"Yes, you can," Harry says, kneading your shoulders. "It'll be so worth it. We'll have a baby boy or girl to hold tonight."

"I'm scared. What if something goes wrong? What if I can't handle the pain? What if I—"

"Hey," he scolds softly. "Please don't think like that. Remember last time? What did I tell you to do to distract yourself?"

"Count your tattoos."

"That's right. I've gotten quite a few more since then, so get to counting. Distract your mind from the pain. I'm not going anywhere."

You begin counting, starting with your name tattooed on his right thigh. You then grab his left arm and count all the small ones near his hand. The chrysanthemum on the inside of his wrist represents your daughter's birth flower, along with her date of birth written in cursive underneath. There's also the outline of a wave representing his home with you in California, where you built your life together. They all mean something near and dear to his heart.

The midwife brings you out of your trance when she leans over the pool and checks your dilation as Harry places comforting kisses on the back of your head. "You're about eight centimeters," she tells you after a few seconds of uncomfortable inspection.

"I feel like I need to push," you say timidly. "I feel the baby really low."

"We need to wait until you're ten centimeters," she replies. "If you can just hold out a little longer, it'll be much easier to push, okay?"

You nod and let out a long groan when the contraction moves from your lower back to your pelvis.

"Do you want your ice?" Harry asks.

"Yes, please."

He reaches behind him and grabs the cup filled with chipped ice. You begin chewing on a piece to cool your body temperature and force your brain to focus on something else.

Several minutes pass, with Harry whispering loving encouragements as the midwife talks you through what's about to happen. She allows you to exert tiny pushes while applying pressure to your abdomen. Everything goes in one ear and out the other, but you know the moment is almost here. There's no stopping now.

"Do you still feel like you need to push, honey?" the midwife asks, checking your dilation again.

"Yeah. Am I ten centimeters yet?"

"Just about. I'm going to have you push now."

You turn your head and stare at Harry with wide eyes. He messily captures your lips with his, then moves them near your ear. "I'm right behind you. Whatever you need, just let me know. If you need me to get out or scream at me—anything at all."

You look forward when the midwife parts your legs and encourages you to push using all of your strength.

The first push is the most agonizing. Your head throws itself back on Harry's shoulder as you grit your teeth and contract what feels like every muscle in your body. The midwife counts to ten, the seconds dragging on like minutes. Your face is scrunched up tight, and your legs are tense in the water. Harry softly counts in your ear, taking your left hand in his.

Breathe out for three. 

The second push feels like you're on fire, but not in a good way. The aching, cramping, and stinging pain shooting all over your body is borderline unbearable. It's felt externally, internally, and everywhere in between. You let a cry escape your mouth as the pain strikes your lower abdomen in full force. Harry kisses your ring finger and sets your hand on his heart.

Breathe out for three. 

The third push gets you the farthest. Your ringing ears distantly hear something along the lines of I can see the head, and you feel a sharp breath from Harry hitting your neck and a kiss behind your ear. When the midwife gets to number two, she pulls the head out. The burning sensation remains, but the most challenging part is out of the way.

Breathe out for three. 

The final push is when you give every ounce of energy you have left, squeezing both of Harry's hands so tightly that you're afraid you might break his bones. You're told to give your strongest and longest push, making your entire body rigid as you stop your breathing to make this the last one. Harry chants motivational words from behind you: They're almost here, you're doing so good, I love you. 

Then, all at once, there's release.

Relief.

Remission.

You quickly pull your baby up from under the water and cradle them against your heaving chest. You're shivering from the adrenaline, and your body feels bizarrely empty.

"It's a girl!" announces the midwife as she wipes and rubs her down with a towel.

The tears immediately fall. You hear Harry let out a quiet sob as he buries his face in your neck with trembling lips. With his forehead pressed to your skin, he sniffles while the sound of your baby girl's cries fills the room.

"Would Dad like to cut the cord?"

Harry nods and palms his tear-filled eyes. She passes tiny surgical scissors over to him and stretches the umbilical cord, showing him where to snip. He carefully moves out from behind you and releases an emotional breath as he opens the scissors, but he drops them in the tub because of his shaky hands.

"Sorry," he says with a choked laugh. He picks them up and tries again, successfully cutting the cord. The midwife cheers and begins setting things up for the after-birth process.

You cradle the back of your baby's head and cry with unspeakable happiness. "Hold her," you tell Harry now that she's detached.

He reaches his hands out, and you carefully pass her squirming body over to him. He seems almost lost in a trance for a second, but when her cries die down instantly once her skin meets his, he looks at you with the most breathtaking smile.

She clings to him like a lifeline, her cheek squished against his chest and her tiny hands spread on his collarbones. "Look," he whispers to you with watery eyes. "Look at her."

"I know. She loves you already."

His gaze is now focused on you, with an expression conveying so many emotions. You think he's never looked more beautiful.

"Thank you," he says.

Those two simple words are spoken with a heavy amount of sincerity. You know what they mean: Thank you for letting me be a father. Thank you for pushing through all the mental and physical changes again. Thank you for her. 

You smile and blink back more tears. "All in a day's work."

Harry shakes his head as his eyes dance over your face. "You're the strongest person I know. I've never seen anything more incredible than what you just did."

"Thank you for helping me through it."

"I always will," he says while stroking your baby girl's back with his large hand. It almost engulfs her entire body.

"Are you insinuating we're going to have more babies?"

"You know I'd have a million with you. You're fuckin' perfect."

You slap his arm lazily. "Don't swear."

He leans in until his forehead touches yours. "Give me a kiss."

"Your lips are dry."

He licks his lips, and you meet his mouth. He hums and grins into the kiss, pulling away from you with a glint in his eyes. "I love you so much," he murmurs before glancing at his daughter. "Both of you. My heart beats for my girls."

"I love you."

A tiny hand suddenly hits Harry's mouth. He sputters a laugh and grabs it, kissing it repeatedly until she lets out a gurgle. He laughs in disbelief and hikes her up to smell her head, the baby scent being one of his favorite parts about having a newborn.

"Already a daddy's girl," you slur tiredly, exhaustion finally catching up to you.

He puckers endless kisses onto her head. "Think I'll keep you forever, angel," he tells her. "Is that okay? Hmm? Gonna be my snuggle bug when I need it the most?"

Her eyes remain closed, and her lips smack as she lets out a silent cry. You look at Harry, and you find him absolutely mesmerized by her. Every small movement she makes, every change in facial expression, every noise that comes from her—he's watching it all with proud eyes and a permanent smile.

No other man would you want as your husband. No other man would you want to be the father of your babies.

——

8:40 PM

It's been a little over an hour since you gave birth, and since then, you've been moved to the bed after being cleaned up. You've just finished breastfeeding and now lie with her in your arms as you try to fall asleep next to Harry. He's still making calls to his loved ones to tell them the news, and each time he does, he gets emotional all over again when the person on the other line gasps or screams with joy.

He's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and part of his hair is held back with one of your daughter's pink butterfly clips. You're both running on empty but have never been more blissfully content as she sleeps, her body wrapped in a white swaddle and a baby beanie snug on her head.

The windows are open, letting the ocean breeze waft in and cool your body's dull ache. The midwife had been kind enough to bring you snacks, leaving ice water, a plate of crackers, and a bowl of strawberry yogurt for you on the nightstand. There was an instance when Harry asked for a spoonful of your yogurt, and when you fed it to him, some dropped onto your baby's cheek. You both broke into silent laughter until she got fussy from your movements. Or maybe it was from the cold dollop of yogurt on her sensitive skin. Either way, it was entertaining.

Now, you drift off beside him and feel the soft breaths of your baby girl on your breast as the linen curtains blow in time with the swelling waves meeting the shore.

"Are you awake?" Harry asks quietly after he ends another call.

"Barely," you whisper into his sleeve. It smells like heaven.

He kisses your temple and inhales deeply. "I just got off the phone with my boss. He says congratulations and to name her after him."

You release a laugh laced with drowsiness. "I don't think she'd appreciate being named after an ornery old man."

"True. That was the last call I needed to make, by the way." He scoots down the bed and gently nuzzles his head into your side. "Get some rest. I'll be quiet now."

"I don't want to miss anything," you say, even though your eyes have been involuntarily closing for the past ten minutes.

He lightly scratches up and down your arm. "She's sleeping, my love."

"I know, but what if she does something cute?"

"Then I'll wake you up."

"Promise?" Your eyes droop once again with overpowering fatigue.

"I promise." He seals it with a tender kiss on your shoulder. "You need—"

A knock on the bedroom door interrupts him and makes your head turn toward the sound. The knob jiggles for a few seconds before the door slowly opens with a creak to reveal your daughter standing there. She's holding her favorite blanket, her thumb tucked in her mouth. You assume Harry's mother must have just arrived and is letting her have some alone time with the both of you.

"Hi, lovebug," Harry says softly. "C'mere, we've got a surprise for you."

She cautiously shuffles over to the edge of the bed and inspects the sleeping bundle in your arms. "Did you have fun with Grandma today?" you ask her.

She nods distractedly, her eyes still glued to the baby. Harry smiles and picks her up, setting her on his lap. "That's your baby sister," he explains. "You're officially a big sister now."

She looks at him. "Where?"

He lets out a breathy chuckle and shifts her closer to the baby. "Right here, sweetheart. She's sleeping, so you have to be quiet."

"Oh," she whispers. You and Harry exchange smiles.

"Isn't she pretty?" you ask.

"Yeah." Her voice is still a whisper as she pokes the baby's fists. "So little."

"She is," Harry says with a sniffle. "You were once that little. You have no idea how perfectly you fit in my arms."

You kiss her cherubic cheek. "Do you want to hold her?"

She glimpses at Harry as if to ask for permission, and he nods his head in encouragement. He positions her between the two of you, and then you maneuver the baby into her arms while ensuring the head is supported.

The sight is something out of a dream. How attentive she is to her new baby sister, admiring her like a delicate flower, examining her closely like a beautiful specimen, gently touching her nose and puckered lips. She keeps looking at you and Harry when the baby wiggles or makes a noise, a look of pure innocence and curiosity that brings more heartfelt tears to your eyes.

You eventually peel your gaze away from her and find Harry staring at you. A tear falls from his bottom eyelashes, his nostrils flaring from residual emotions hitting him. Reaching over, you thumb away the teardrop and focus on the bay window. The sun has dived below the darkening horizon, allowing stars to faintly dot the sky. Cicadas buzz in nearby bushes, and the night tides of the ocean collide with the sand that will soon be illuminated by the moon.

It's quiet in the bedroom, with nothing but the sound of soft breathing and the occasional coo from the baby. Your family of three is now four, and you've never felt more full of love. The world around you is serene, just like it was during the sunrise before she came into the world.

California dusk has brought you an angel.

——

[becauseyoureajinx]

Ishas themes music video, shows mostly powder, not hinting, screaming their parallel, screaming that what jinx could have been, had her sister been there for her, had jinx never have had to be created, shown even more in act 3 while in the parallel universe, whats even worse is ekko never saw isha, never saw the impact she had on jinx, wherein jinx could be good, where she could comfort someone, where jinx could be non-toxic, where she could LOVE albeit in a platonic way. But if only what could have been, Jinx, Ekko, and Isha are all together, where the people who DESERVE IT are happy.

Fuck riot for making me sad

[gimme-da-sword]

Wait fuck hear me out

So there are soooooo many parallels between Isha and Powder, and i think we'll see a full out breakdown and jinx completely losing herself to destroying piltover either to avenge Isha or to continue the cause Isha sacrificed herself for. Like, she was finally healing her inner child through Isha, who is now gone, so she's going fucking insane. We will also hopefully see vi and sevika comforting her, so she doesn't have to deal with her grief alone like she has before. I think we might start seeing jinx imitate some stuff Isha did when she's mourning. I think that after Isha dies jinx is going to sacrifice herself kinda in the same manner that Isha did and end up being everyone's big fat hero, maybe thinking she's going to get to see Isha again.

(ty for listening to my rambling)

[multifandom-nerds-blog]

Just watched Act 2.

I am not okay.

In episode 4 I was like: Man the fanfiction writers where right about Caitlyn and Maddie, lol. And again I'm confused by how much time exactly passed between act 1 and 2. A month? Two? JUST GIVE ME ONE LINE SAYING IT! Also Sevika trying to rally Jinxes and fireflights together with Jinx not wanting to, awesome. Generally Isha and Jinx together are just adorable.

Episode 5: EMO VI. Also the dude (Loris) being at her side until Vi pushes him away. Then Jinx picking up Vi to look for Vander AND THE FLASHBACK OF VANDER WITH SILCO AND THE MOM!!!! And then I was just like, ok, so in the unexplained timespan Salo went down all the way to Victor, got healed, and became his helper and went to get more Hexgems. Accidentally freeing Jayce from wherever he was inside the Arcane just to get smushed with his hammer. Like, okay he was an annoying councilor, but give him some rest he was just on a quest for your jesus boyfriend. (WHERE'S OUR BOY EKKO AND HEIMERDINGER????)

And then we got ep 6: VIKTOR WITH HIS LONG HAIR! AND HE'S EVEN MORE JESUS NOW!!! AND HE'S STILL WEARING THE BLANKET JAYCE GAVE HIM!!!! Also Jinx calling him a fortune cookie, lmao. And again I'm not sure how long they were down there, but it looked like they got quite comfortable. Having fresh water and an abundance of fruit must be great for them. Except Ambessa has to screw it up of course. Also Singed (his reaction to Viktor is just advising him on his cult, lol), but mostly Ambessa. And Cait still got (some) morals left! And she teams up with VI, yay!

JAYCE WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? What happened to you inside the Arcane??? And Omg, is the screw that Victor has with him the one from season 1 act 1 or is that just me?

NOT ISHA! NOT THE POWDER - ISHA PARALLELS. Let them live a peaceful live, eating fruits, healing Vanders mind and Jinx calling Viktor a fortune cookie.

Please tell me Viktors mind is still in the Arcane or some shit. I cannot deal with this. This was NOT enough screentime. I can not live with only two Viktor episodey.

Anyway. My new favorite boy Steb wasn't there. A shame. I'm dissapointed. Where's our fish boy.

[delusion-is-back]

I keep thinking about a parallel universe where, after vander dies and vi is taken to jail, silco as a last favor to his old sister in weapons decides to spare little powder's life but is not interested in taking her with, so she just stays there in the rubble and fire surrounded by the bodies of her family. Vi is not coming back for her, no one is coming back for her and she just waits for life to take her away like it did with her family.

Simultaneously, just a couple blocks away a couple young investors who just got the green light to start working on hextech find themselves looking to purchase more material for their endeavor when they hear the blast and come rushing close. By the time they arrive everyone is gone except for a crying blue hair girl from the undercity, viktor approaches without hesitation, the empathy he feels for the girl blinds his good judgement as jayce stands close by just in case.

After some back and forth viktor sets his foot and takes little powder with them back to the academy, explaining that to the guards was definitely fun for jayce while viktor only cared about getting her out of the cold and comforting her, she clung to him like a second skin and wasn't letting go, reluctantly she allowed jayce to carry her back to piltover once her weight was too much for viktor's cane to hold them both, but she didn't left viktor's side the entire night.

It took viktor several days to get a word out of her but eventually, after opening up to her about being from the undercity too, he found out her name was powder and she was an orphan, he couldn't get much more out of her without triggering some very strong emotions he didn't know how to handle, but that was enough info. She was an orphan and she didn't have a place to go.

Jayce of course felt pity for the girl, he emphasized with losing a parents, he really did, but he couldn't help but have second thoughts about the whole situation, he suggested taking her to an orphanage downtown which viktor shut down real quick, he was as clung to the girl as she was to him and jayce had to deal with it because he was also clung to viktor.

What started as a kind gesture of trying to help a little girl in need turned into something more permanent in the blink of an eye, suddenly 7 years had passed since that fire in the docks because now little powder was a young lady, long blue braid and a face permanently stained with grease as she spent her days working at the lab with viktor and jayce in whatever new project they needed her help with while at the same thing working on her own stuff on the side.

With powder's innate talent for engineering hextech's advanced double as fast and now viktor and jayce were working on projects at a much bigger scale than they ever envisioned, powder lost interest in hextech a while ago but goes along with it to help her dads.

Neither viktor nor jayce ever thought about having children, they were both so focused on their career that becoming dad's one night was definitely something they had to adjust their lives around, specially to a child with as much baggage a powder but they quickly grew to love her and it made their bond stronger, now they had something else in common other than hextech, they were a small family.

Of course powder was closer to viktor most of the time, he just seems to get her in ways jayce didn't and after he got into the council a part of powder resented him a little but at the end of the day when it was just the three of them on the lab working the world just felt like it was in order. Everything that had to do with vi and vander was left in the past, powder chose to focus on the good life she had in piltover as one of the creators of hextech, deep down it brought her comfort to know that's the life vi wanted her to have, one where she didn't have to worry about her next meal or having a roof over her head at night. Yeah she was different from everyone else in piltover and she always got dirty looks here and there, but she was content and she was thriving.

Until the day she finds out about a pink haired girl locked away in the stillwater prison that recently got released to help a young inforcerer work on a case related to the shimmer problem in the undercity. Now she has to choose either to stick to the life she's made for herself in piltover, or leave it wall behind to go chase a ghost in the undercity.

It's a whole mess of a plotline but I really like to think there's a world where powder got to live up to her potential with loving dads / mentors that didn't feed into her more dangerous traits, I believe ví would've loved to see her thriving in piltover even if it was under the thought that ví left her there that night.

[notgoldendaylight]

THE PARALLELS!!!

vi hit isha like she did to powder!!!! and jinx comforted isha!!! like silco did to her!!!!!

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

one single thread of gold tied me to you

by piltovervscogirl

five lifetimes where caitlyn and vi found each other & one where they didn’t

Words: 10789, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends), Mel Medarda, Maddie Nolen, Powder from s02e07 AU (Arcane: League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon, Vi Needs a Hug (League of Legends), Young Vi (League of Legends), Young Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi In Stillwater Prison (League of Legends), Hurt/Comfort, Independent Zaun (League of Legends), Pit Fighter Vi (League of Legends), Parallel Universes, Jayce & Vi Friendship (League of Legends)

Read on A03. from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Found You Earlier

|| Parallel Powder x fem!reader

|| Warnings; season two episode 7 spoilers, reader crying, you choose what happened to reader, little dialogue, short drabble

|| Summary; when Powder finds reader crying, she listens to her struggles and brings comfort.

Requests closed!

Started; December 16th

Finished; December 16th

HurtCember2024; Day 12, Cry

~~~

Powder spent all morning looking for you. She'd even asked around if any of the others had seen you. Mylo shrugged and said you were probably off causing trouble somewhere. She doubted that, though. Something in Powder's gut just felt off. As though something was wrong and she couldn't place what it was. Her immediate thought had been you, so she was desperately trying to find you.

She finally did. Though it took her a good amount of time. You'd gone off to your favourite spot, one where only Powder knew. It was nice. A place between Zaun and Piltover, it even had sun. Powder walked over to you, her hand resting to your shoulder. Startling you out of your thoughts as you desperately wipped away tears. You didn't want her to see you crying, after all. Powder had everyone else to worry about. She didn't need you too.

"Babe?" Powder frowned, settling herself down beside you. It wasn't often she saw you cry. In fact, she's sure she's never even seen it. She knew something had been wrong. Powder wished she had found you earlier.

"Hi.." you murmured. The quietest she'd ever heard you speak. Well, there's a few exceptions to that. Like, when you're really tired and just mumbling. Powder thinks its pretty cute when you do that- and now she's getting side tracked.

"Did something happen?" Powder asked, tone soft while she brushed a couple strands of your hair from your face. Her hand coming to rest between your jawline and cheek. Gently cupping your face to wipe away the remainder of your tears with her thumb.

Talking to Powder had always been easy to do. She was gentle, soft and kind. The only person you felt comfortable talking to with this sort of thing. It all came out. Everything that had been bothering you. Powder listened to your every word, nodding along occasionally to show she was still listening to you. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you in close to her side. Her fingers combing your hair.

Powder gave you some comforting words, even advice if you needed it. Her words soothed your rushing mind. As though building the dam herself to stop your tears from flowing through. One of the many reasons you loved her. Powder would always be there to listen to you and provide the comfort you needed, the gesture a reminder that you were still loved. Even when somedays it felt like you weren't.

She was there; and she always would be.

[belltrigger]

Submastober Day 10!

Inspiration: There's an older OC-tober prompt-list here that I am using.

Title: Waiting in Dreams Prompt: Dream Word count: 1013 Synopsis: Ingo wants to find his memories, and the start of the journey lies in his dreams.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Something that Ingo had learned long ago was that he felt closest to regaining his memories when he was asleep. One would think that experiencing things and meeting people would be more likely to cause memories to bubble to the surface. However, as he continued to help travelers and more people began to visit him at the training grounds, he came to the conclusion that his missing memories were not of this place from the very beginning. More and more he realized that because he was not a native of the nearby lands, things would not feel familiar unless they were a true universal constant.

Of course, he did find a measure of happiness in assisting those around him, and he felt that his life was mostly one of content. He did not hunger, he had a place to stay, and there were people he saw every day that could be considered friendly acquaintances! Dare he say friends? Certainly, he had many pokemon companions, ones that were willing to join him at the training grounds in order to truly challenge battlers that showed there.

But sometimes, there were days that he felt the need to focus on his search for his memories. Having discovered that he needed to dream in order to effectively search, he would block all the windows to allow for a pleasantly dark environment, lying down on his futon and attempting to sleep. The anticipation of hopefully remembering something this time (and not forgetting it again by the time he woke up) often made it harder to actually sleep. If attempts to force himself to relax did not work, he called on the help of his tangrowth, politely requesting that it use sleep powder on him. Although is tangrowth agreed, he always found his dear pokemon anxiously waiting by his bedside when he woke up.

Today was one such day, and as he felt the powder begin to work, Ingo shuffled further down into his futon to become comfortable before shutting his eyes. The other reason he found the sleep powder to be helpful was that his dreams always felt more real, to the point that he could almost believe he'd never fallen asleep. He never revealed that to his pokemon, or indeed ever mentioned using the sleep powder to others, because he knew they would worry for him. But he knew what he was doing, had performed little experiments until he was sure that it was completely safe for him.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in what he would describe as his dreamscape. It could be nothing else, for he did not know of any lands nearby that contained paths made of two parallel rows of metal. Other than this pathway, the area was mostly dark, as though he were in a tunnel where he could not see the walls. If this was reminiscent of where he was from, it was a strange place indeed, though utterly familiar. Every time he found this dreamscape, he would follow the pathway, stepping atop the pieces of wood that were placed under the metal approximately 20 inches apart (he did not know why he knew that, even in dreams).

Eventually, in the distance, two glowing spots would appear in the darkness. One, lower to the ground, was a soft orange color which swept a beam of light across the ground. The other, twice as high in the air as the other but slightly off to the side, was purple but felt no less comforting. It bobbed gently as if a floating flame, and every so often, Ingo thought perhaps he saw additional flames in the darkness.

Thankfully, if he continued forward, the lights did indeed seem to get closer. They were stationary, which felt like a relief in the vastness of the dark he was in. That being said, if the lights maintained their distance, Ingo felt as though he would still pursue them. In any case, as he drew nearer to the lights, he felt himself stand straighter, the pain in his back diminishing to a light ache instead of a heavy burden weighing him down. His voice felt stronger, like he was approaching someone or something that might actually understand him

“Heyyyy!” a voice called out as he got within thirty feet. At that point, if he squinted, he could make out a person behind the orange light, waving widely to him. They were tall, and had a silhouette strangely similar to Ingo's own, complete with the outline of his unique coat and cap. Also, at this distance, Ingo could see that indeed there was more than one flame which made up the purple light.

Six feet away seemed to be the maximum that he could close the distance between himself and the figure holding what seemed to be a lantern. When he was this close, the only detail of the figure he could make out beyond the shape of the silhouette was that the figure was dressed entirely in white. Unfortunately, the figure did not say anything beyond the initial call to him, and they did not seem to understand anything Ingo was saying back. Numerous times, Ingo inquired on who they were, why they called to him, and where were they. He asked if they could meet other than in his dreams, and how had they known each other before now.

The last thing he ever saw before he woke up was the figure's bright, oh-so-familiar smile. Although it was friendly, dare he say loving, it made his heart hurt so desperately that surely the pain was what woke him up. And every time he awoke, he would just stare up at the ceiling, trying not to cry for what he had lost.

The Man in White in his dreams, the floating purple fire beside him… If anything was a key to his lost memories, it was these two, companions from beyond the fog in his mind.

“I will figure out who you are again,“ he would promise, every time until it became the truth.

[famousflowermagazine]

what if in the first episode of arcane in season 2 we get a parallel of episode 1 of season 1 you know the scene where vi and powder come across their mother's dead body and vi breaks down while powder holds on to her but this time it's caitlyn finding her mom's body and we get vi comforting her?

if that happens i will sob uncontrollably.

i am so not ready for what vi and Caitlyn are going to be going through net season

[ender1821]

assorted ramblings and details about my latest shiny duo fic (a post-Double Life hurt/comfort one shot which you can read here!), because I actually had a lot of fun writing it

1. *shakes violently* tHE COLOURS. THE FREAKIN’ COLOURS.

A purple hyacinth means sorrow and a desire for forgiveness, regret over how something went down. It’s in the crater Scott leaves, kind of a small acknowledgment to how in the canon ending Pearl ‘forgives’ Scott after dying, the purple hyacinth can be interpreted as both Scott or Pearl’s regrets.

I kept on describing things in reds and blues (because apparently I only know how to describe things this way/j), especially when Gem goes up the tower and finds Pearl. Blue is an ode to how things were before, the good old days, as Gem sees it, because Pearl has always been some variation of blue in her eyes, her dark blue hoodie, her blue eyes, etc. But the way she sees blue now is tainted by frostbite and scattered diamond armour and Scott, blue is tainted and can never be looked at the same way again after the game, because Pearl has been changed drastically as a result of it.

Red is what Pearl is now, red is the blood both her and her enemies draw from each other, red is the burns left from explosions, red is in her eyes now, it’s all red, red, red and deep down, a part of Gem hates it, she can’t bear having to see Pearl so utterly ruined and covered by a colour so different, she doesn’t like this change one bit, but now blue isn’t any better either.

So exactly a purple hyacinth having the meaning for regret, sorrow and desire for forgiveness can also be seen as a culmination of the two colours no longer clashing against each other, a conflict in both Pearl and Gem’s head, as red mixes with blue to become purple, it’s not much better, but it’s a start.

Then there is green, because green is the life that finds its way back to the ruins and imbues it with its moss and vines and nature, green is the forest that remains in your solitude, green is Gem. At the end, the greenery they find remaining is a welcome sight, a fresh escape. Gem is all of that for Pearl. (Also, pretty sure I only used “rooted to the ground” to describe 1) Gem and Pearl during the hug 2) the forest they come across, so that’s a lil parallel for you too)

In a way, Gem giving Pearl the hoodie is her futile attempt at trying to make things feel like how they were before, but it’s said that it only feels more wrong to cover all that red with a blue that doesn’t match, it’s only when they find a purple hyacinth that Gem can let go of her own regrets and yearning for this to have never happened, it did, it changed Pearl irreparably, but one day it will fade away together, the red and blue don’t have to stay clashing.

2. listen to Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers. please./j

The title of the fic comes from Graceland Too, which is a song that I think fits perfectly for post-DL hurt/comfort! The song itself centres around caring for someone who hates themselves and how hard that can be, which, in my opinion: *shiny duo post-DL intensifies*

The person the title refers to is Pearl, who is now ‘no longer a danger to herself or others’, because there is nobody else left. Even Scott is gone. During Double Life, Pearl has been labelled a warning, an omen, she is danger in the eyes of the other players, and eventually she actually becomes it. In the process of harming others, be it with the swing of an axe or the touch of powdered snow, she harms herself as well. She is a danger to others, as well as a danger to herself.

(Thank you Phoebe Bridgers for giving me so much shiny duo brainrot material, you have no idea how many of her songs are in my shiny duo/c!Pearl playlist lmao)

3. What’s the exact difference from canon?

So like, I don’t know from which pov and episode I heard this from, but I remember them addressing how the winner would be decided for Double Life, and it’s been claimed that the winner would be whoever’s death message shows up last in chat, which means it was expected of the winner to not be a pair of soulmates, but one singular player, as it has always been.

Grian wanted to win with Scar during Third Life, he even tells Scar that no matter what happens he considered it a double victory before their final cactus ring fist fight, but in the end, the victor will always be alone. He kills Scar and that’s it, Scar doesn’t win, nobody considers Scar a winner, the only winner of third life is Grian.

The final four of last life decided amongst themselves that they would end it with a battle royale, no alliances, just a final battle between them, but there always was some feelings of attachment left over for both Scott + Pearl and Ren + Martyn, Scott was obviously hunting Ren down in the finale so that he would win, but another reason, as he shouted out while chasing him, was because Ren had killed Pearl, and he wanted revenge, so it’s kind of safe to say that if it had been only Scott and Pearl left at the end, they would’ve wanted to claim that they won together too.

It’s from the previous games that it’s been decided that there will always be only one winner, even if the final players were close friends, it always ends with a single player, so no matter what the whole core of double life stood for, the ending would’ve still ended up similar to what actually happened, if not worse.

(Imagine that it wasn’t Pearl + Scott or Cleo + Martyn who were the final pair, it was a pair who genuinely liked their soulmate and have come with their partner to the end, only to be hit with the realisation that it will never end until one of them dies, would they sacrifice themselves? Backstab their partner? Or would it have ended with the same cactus ring duel that ended the first game, with two friends beating each other to death unwillingly for the status of being a victor, but this time, every land they hit, they also get back, and the act of it is the same as sending themselves to their grave, but they won’t even get the time to realise that until it’s done?)

Anyway, I feel like to really hammer in the fact that there can only be one winner, the Watchers would’ve severed the soulbond between the last pair, so that they would have greater incentive to kill the other. That’s what happens in this version of events, but it’s not exactly what the Watchers expected. They were waiting for a pair of friends coming to terms of having to kill each other, they wanted to feed off all the negative emotions that would arise from that, yet the final pair is Pearl and Scott.

By the time they were the only two left, the string between them has been cut. That doesn’t matter, though. Not when Scott blows himself up in front of Pearl before she could even have time to process it. There is something to be said, about how Scott lights two pieces of TNT, and as one kills him, it propels the other towards the exact spot Pearl is standing in. They’re still soulmates, through and through.

In this version of events, Pearl doesn’t die from the soulmate bond or the TNT that flies her way, because she shields herself from the blast while wearing armour. That’s fine for the Watchers though, the feelings of loneliness and anger that festers in Their victor is delicious.

…that is, until Gem forces her way into the world and ruins Their feast.

(The exact way Gem, and in extension Pearl, hops through worlds is still a headcanon I’m hoping to polish off with a fic, but it does revolve around concepts I’ve come up with alongside my friend @spark-of-teal, for a taste of that I really recommend reading this, because I still think it’s really cool :D)

Those are the big ones I’ve had on my mind for a while, but of course I couldn’t put every little detail I have for the fic here, so those are for you to discover :)

[kingfredericks]

silco and jinx father daughterisms

silco and jinx’s fucked up father daughter relationship is something sooo important to me. jinx yearned for intimacy and closeness super affectionate with silco. despite, silco’s proclivity for isolation he still indulges in this. for jinx’s sake.

he is both comforting and destructive presence in jinx’s life. he projected his past and all of his destructive horrible coping mechanisms and projected them onto this mentally unstable teenage girl. manipulating her and coaxing her to go down a path she didn’t have to go down.

the tenderness of the river scene…..it’s just so palpable. silco thinks he’s doing the right thing. he’s thinking yes he’s helping her. saving her bc she was just like him when he was younger. and the parallels between vander / silco and vi / jinx are clear. and i love the imagery of drowning and rebirth. jinx throwing away her former life of powder and being reborn as her new persona. jinx.

her relationship with silco was without a doubt an incredibly important relationship for her. who will she turn to now? no annoying father to bother no more. no father to lean her shoulder on. all that’s left is his ghost that haunts her. just like all the others she killed. she’s a jinx.