#[ooc] is this different from canon yes but am i right also yes

[precipine]

Tag dump part two!

[generalsmemories]

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

[bluesylveon2]

A Peculiar Shroud

Summary: While on his trip to NRC, Rollo runs into Idia's little brother

Note: this is a drabble I wrote after I read Rollo's card vignette! It would be cool to see the two meet in canon

Word Count: 959

Warnings: not beta read, possible OOC characters, and possible ok plot

Night Raven College. It is one of the top arcane schools within Twisted Wonderland. Students from there are known for their intellect, athleticism, and magical capabilities. 

It made Rollo sick. 

The Noble Bell student dreaded stepping past the Mirror Chamber. Despite its quiet and calm nature, Rollo wished the chamber was in his academy instead. Why was he chosen to represent the school? He already had enough of the students, particularly Azul, Idia, and Malleus. 

Even thinking of that blasted fae made Rollo want to hurl. 

Rollo's eyes scanned the different mirrors leading to the dorms. One in particular, between the ones labeled 'Heartslabyul' and 'Octavinelle,' was a dorm with an anonymous glow and a symbol with a set of familiar horns. 

"How repulsive," Rollo said in disgust as he eyed the monstrous-looking entrance. At least his school held themselves to a certain standard, unlike that monster. 

A bright light came out of the Ignihyde mirror. Rollo shielded his eyes as a small boy came out of it. 

"Oh, hello! You must be Rollo Flamme. From Noble Bell, correct?" Rollo could only stare at the boy's (?) big yellow eyes and flaming blue hair. In fact, it looked very familiar to someone he (reluctantly) knew.

"Yes, and you are?"

"Ortho Shroud!" Ortho held his hand, and his eyes crinkled from his gleeful smile.

Rollo just stared at the robot(? He still questioned what exactly was Ortho.) "Yes, I recognize your last name."

"Oh! You must mean Big Brother! He told me about his trip to Fleur City and even got me a cool gift."

Rollo's eyes widen slightly in surprise. "You're related to Idia? But you're a robot."

Ortho chuckled like he had heard that many times before. "Technically, I am a technomantic humanoid. Long story short, my brother made me long ago with a mix of technology and magic. I also can make my own choices without him interfering."

"We're p. similar, actually.

It's not remotely hard for me to imagine all the hatred and anguish you feel.

You bang your head against the wall, and when that doesn't bring him back, you start thinking that maybe you'll tear everything down…"

Why was Rollo remembering those words now? Those words from that villain who worked with Malleus Draconia to defeat HIM?! 

I think there's only one guy here you ACTUALLY hate—yourself.

Your brother suffered right in front of you, and you couldn't save him. You hate yourself for being weak and worthless.

Rollo's brows furrowed, and he felt a headache coming. "I see it now. You're a replacement for Idia's late brother." 

Ortho frowned. If looks could kill, Rollo would be dust right now. Small bursts of magic appeared in Ortho's hands. "I may be made with the image of my late brother in mind, but I am Ortho Shroud." 

Rollo raised a brow. "Hmm. It's pitiful that Idia resorted to doing that. Tell me, does your presence not cause him eternal suffering?"

Ortho felt his hardware beat erratically. He could not explain the phenomena at the moment. Maybe it was something Idia might know of? "I have two brothers, and my parents have three sons. Idia loves me as his brother, not as a replacement. I have a heart, and I am my own person."

Rollo watched as Ortho's eyes sparkled from how he talked about his brother. A small smile cracked Rollo's blank face. Watching the younger Shroud reminded him of his own brother, the one he lost from the curse of magic. He wished he still had his brother by his side, even after the incident at Noble Bell. 

If only…

"Rollo?" 

It was almost like Rollo heard his brother's voice. He wanted to feel that tiny spark of happiness again. 

"I apologize," Rollo said, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket. He let out a small cough. "My words were out of turn."

Ortho stared at Rollo. "You do?" He asked, and then his eyes started glowing. 

"What are you-"

"I accept your apology! Your body scan shows no changes in your body temperature or heartbeat. Therefore, I believe your words are genuine." Ortho suddenly grabbed Rollo's hands and dragged him towards a mirror with a three-headed dog. "Big Brother is in his room playing games. We can visit him before I start your tour."

"Video games? You need a proper education"…." Rollo continued muttering to himself during the whole trek to Ignihyde.

Bonus:

Knock knock

"Idia, can I come in?"

"Yeah," Idia lazily said as he kept his eyes glued on his monitor, unaware of another person entering the room. 

"What a mess. This is not a suitable environment for Ortho's education to nurture."

Idia paused his game. An irritated look crossed his face. "Listen bub. Don't judge my room for-" his eyes landed on a familiar mop of white hair under the goofy-looking purple hat. "EEP! A NORMIE! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!!"

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

╰┈➤ i won’t sleep till you’re safe inside.

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x Sister!Reader (platonic obviously)

Type: Fanfic - Fluff -> Angst

Word count: 8.5k (🫢🤯)

Warnings: NOT CANON-COMPLIANT! (I’ll make a list of everything that’s probably not canon but is for this fic) colour-coordinated dialogues to make it easier to understand who’s talking, starts out fluffy but evolves into angst, cussing, reader is desi, usage of Hindi (translations given, except for the Sheila Ki Jawani song), hahaha culturedumping & projection go hand in hand 😭

Some Goldenmodel (is that their official ship name??) too! (pls they’re literally so cute 🫠🫠)

A/N: Basically where Pavi loses his sister instead of Gayathri :D

The numbers at the top of every section indicate Pavitr and the reader’s age respectively (reader is older than Pavi) :)

Andddd the Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar hc continues 😁

Probably (Definitely) Non-Canon List:

-reader’s existence basically since she’s the daughter of Maya Aunty and Uncle Bhim (so she’s not technically his sister she’s his cousin but close enough!)

-I actually have NO idea how Pavi’s parents died or anything abt them so I’m basically making stuff up hehe

-Reader also gets the scholarship to Mumbattan that Pavitr got, but for a different subject

-kinda waffling on Bhim’s death since I’ve never actually read the comic where he died so idk much of anything

-Reader helps Pavi make his webshooters (kinda)

-Pav may be a teensy bit ooc I apologize for that

-there’s probably a lot more but none I can pinpoint specifically right now

(this is the song that Pav sings btw)

title inspo:

Will you call me to tell me you’re alright?

Cause I worry about you the whole night

Don’t repeat my mistakes

I won’t sleep till you’re safe inside

(Safe Inside, James Arthur)

——— ———

4 & 6.

“Didi!”

You stifled a giggle, peeking out from behind the tree you were hiding behind to see the tiny boy scrambling over rocks and protruding tree roots, his eyes squinted in concentration as he searched for you.

“Come out, come out wherever you- ai!” He cut himself off with a sharp squeal of surprise, stumbling backwards as you leaped out and bared your teeth like the demonic rakshasas that seem to lunge right off the pages of your mother’s - Pavitr’s aunt’s - mythology books.

“Not fair,” Pavitr complained, glaring up at you and crossing his arms. His nose scrunched at the injustice and you laughed, sticking your tongue out at him and ruffling his hair.

“Totally fair.”

“Nahin! Pura cheating! Didi, tum hamesha dhokha deti ho!” (No! Fully cheating! You always cheat!)

“Oy, Pavi, main kaise dhokha de rahi hai? What nonsense you’re talking.” (How am I cheating?)

“I’m telling Maya Aunty that you’re being mean to me.”

“Wait-”

“Arrey, both of you stop squabbling and come up here,” Maya Aunty’s voice carried down into the lawn from the veranda as she poked her head out of the kitchen. “I made gajar ka halwa. Come eat before Bhim gets back and finishes everything.”

Pavitr’s eyes lit up at the mention of the carrot dessert, all earlier frustrations forgotten for the moment. “Race you!” He turned and darted across the lawn, his hair bobbing as he kicked up clouds of dirt under his shoes.

“Pavi, how is this fair?!”

——— ———

6 & 8.

“Didi! Checkmate! I win!”

“Ai, Pavi, that’s not… chess doesn’t work like…” He turned to you with big, shining eyes, grinning from ear to ear because he thought he had won. You trailed off with a resigned sigh, not having the heart to tell him that he had just got his own king killed.

“Wow, Pavi, you’re getting so good at this! You’re a natural!” You ruffled his hair affectionately, despite his protests and attempts to fight you off.

“Y/N! Yahaan aao!” (Come here)

You immediately perked up, eyebrows drawing together as you heard your mother’s voice, only… something was off. She sounded like she was holding back tears, the beginnings of a raw sob lingering in her throat.

“Haan, Amma? Kya hua?” (Yes? What happened?) (Amma/Maa just means mother)

She sat hunched next to the balcony, a phone in her slack grip. Your father - Pavitr’s Uncle Bhim - knelt with his back to you, holding her and rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. Tears fell from her eyes and the only sounds that split the air were her jagged heaves between soft sniffles.

“Amma? Papa, what happened to Amma?” Unease twisted in your stomach, knitting your eyebrows closer together as you moved forward and grasped your mother’s hand.

Your father turned to look at you and you inhaled sharply.

That was the first time you had ever seen your father cry.

“Pavitr’s parents were involved in an accident,” He struggled to keep his tone even for you.

“An accident? You mean…”

“Yes, beta. They’re… they’re gone.”

Your breath hitched and you backed away slightly, steadying yourself against the wall behind you.

You didn’t know much about what happened - and it would probably stay like that since you were ‘too young to bother yourself with the worries of the adult world - but you knew one thing for sure.

This is going to break Pavi.

I can’t let that happen.

You heard soft patters of bare feet on the marble floors and looked up just as Pavitr’s dark hair disappeared to the side of the doorframe.

Not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down mid-speech, you got up and left without a word, patting your mother’s hand sympathetically on the way.

You found Pavitr sitting against the tree you used to play hide and seek around. He pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on his kneecaps and raising his head when you approached. “What happened, Didi?”

You grasped at words that would help convey it, but to no avail. How could you tell a 6 year old - one who was essentially a brother to you now - that his parents had died?

You had two ways out.

…I should tell him.

“Pavi… Maya Aunty will explain, but… basically, you’re going to be spending a lot more time with us - with me. How does that sound?”

Pavitr grinned, his eyes shining - and of course he had to look like a trusting puppy. Of course it had to make you feel guilty the moment those words, a romanticized version of the truth, left your lips.

“That sounds awesome,” He said happily, half-turning to wrap his arms snugly around your waist in a hug. “We’ll have so much fun! You can finally teach me how to play kancha and lagori like you’ve been wanting to! Right, Didi?”

“…yeah. You’re right.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head as he nestled comfortably against your side, the strands of hair tickling your chin as you rested your head on his. You felt tears starting to well up as the depth of the situation hit you at full force.

Kaayar. Coward.

——— ———

9 & 11.

“Didi!”

You looked up from your schoolwork as Pavitr burst into your room. “What’s going on?”

“Maya Aunty said there’s some sort of… scholarship? They said we have to go to Mumbattan!” Your eyes shot wide open and you pushed your chair back from your desk to follow him into the kitchen. What scholarship? Mumbattan?

Maya Aunty had told you both that she had submitted samples of your writing and a few of Pavitr’s blueprints for futuristic designs he had come up with for various robotics competitions, but… you never thought the entry would ever amount to anything.

“Amma, Papa, yeh sach hai? Did we get a scholarship to Mumbattan?” (Is this true?)

“Haan, beta.” Your mother looked slightly tired, weary - but ultimately happy. The happiest you had seen her in quite a while. Your father patted your head affectionately, a large smile on his face. “Well done, both of you. Mere champions.” (My champions)

The moment dissipated like it was never there in the first place when Maya Aunty’s eyebrows scrunched together with worry once more as she turned to Uncle Bhim. “Arrey, Bhim. Hum kaise kharch uthayenge? Mumbattan mei, woh kiraaya-” (How will we afford this? The rent in Mumbattan-)

The moment you heard those words, you let out a soft exhale and took Pavitr’s hand, gently tugging on it and leading him away from the ‘adult’ conversation. By now, you were almost conditioned to do your best to avoid conversations that always got your parents stressed out and sometimes led to frustrated breakdowns which simmered into tearful apologies and doubtful plans.

“Let’s go play kancha, Pavi. I’ll even let you start this time.”

You ran out onto the lawn with him, your hand holding onto his smaller one tightly as if you could protect him from all the harm and sadness and worry that the world had to offer.

——— ———

11 & 13.

“Didi!”

“Don’t didi me. You agreed to this, remember? You brought this upon yourself,” You said between giggles that got increasingly louder at how ridiculous he looked.

Maya Aunty and Bhim Uncle were both out buying groceries, and Pavitr was so bored that he accepted your challenge to see who could balance more than five stones on their forehead. And if he lost, you would get to do his hair and makeup.

That was why he was currently sitting in front of you, bright pink eyeshadow on both his eyelids and wearing the brightest red lipstick you could find. He winced in pain, loudly protesting every two seconds as you tried to put his wavy hair into a Dutch braid. He had let it grow out over the past few months, and at the rate he was going, if he left it for even a little while more it’d be longer than yours.

“You need a haircut, Pavi. I think you might be getting split ends…” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression of pure horror that crossed his face at your words, which quickly turned to annoyance. “Shut up, you’re just saying that because you’re jealous- ow!”

“Whoops.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Did not.” You looped a rubber band onto the ends of the braid, finally finishing and tilting your head to critically examine your handiwork. “There, you’re all done.”

Pavitr glanced at his reflection in the compact mirror you offered him. “Wait, I don’t look that bad. I can pull this off pretty well, actually.”

“Sure you can, sweetie. Let’s do your nails now.”

“You’re the absolute worst.”

——— ———

12 & 14.

“Didi! Rise and shine!”

You groaned softly, turning over onto your side. “Get out.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet and definitely not a prime example of you being mean to your younger brother. Seriously though, we have to get going soon for school.” He expertly dodged the spare pillow you threw at him, deciding to kneel by your bedside and stare you in the eyes like some psychotic cat.

“Not everyone’s a morning person, Pavi. Besides, it’s 6 in the damn morning. Come back in another hour.”

Pavitr didn’t respond, just started humming a tune and tapping out a familiar beat on your bedside table, using two pencils from your desk’s mug of stationery as makeshift drumsticks.

“I know you want it but you’re never gonna get it, tere haath kabhi na aani…”

Your eyes shot open as you recognized the song. “No, Pavi, I swear to God-”

“Maane na maane koi duniya yeh saari, mere ishq ki hai deewani…” Stifling laughter, he backed out of range before you could smack some sense into him with another pillow.

“Pavitr! Stop!” You chucked a pillow at him, sitting up and staring at him in utter astonishment at his song choices.

“Kisi aur ki mujhko zaroorat kya, main toh khud se pyaar jataun! What’s my name, what’s my name, what’s my name…?”

“Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar, if you don’t stop singing that song right now-” You lunged forward, trying to grab him and muffle the lyrics of the Bollywood song he was singing - granted, he wasn’t a terrible singer, and in fact he could sing in Hindi quite well, but out of every song he could’ve chosen… this? “By the way, you missed a few lines, but that’s not the point! Stop it!”

“My name is Sheila! Sheila ki jawani! I’m too sexy for you, mei tere hath na aani-”

Chaos ensued in the next few seconds. Pavitr, who had been running around your room doing whatever choreography he could remember from the scene with that particular song in the movie you had both watched, tripped on the fallen pillow and fell flat on his face.

You had been chasing him around and tripped over him, rolling over and landing beside him. Luckily, you managed to break your fall with your palms.

“How’d the ground taste, hmm?” You asked, offering a hand to help him up.

“You’re mean,” Pavitr complained, taking your hand and pulling himself up. You fixed his slightly ruffled hair, a little surprised at how soft it was. Was he already going through the phase of being obsessed with how he looked?

“Yeah, well. You’re in my room at 6 am singing one of the sluttiest Bollywood songs you know, so… you’ll live, buttercup.” You gave his head a rough pat, turning to reluctantly make your bed - might as well, since you were already awake - as he hovered over your shoulder with a grin.

“But hey, it did get you up, didn’t it?”

——— ———

13 & 15.

“Didi! Where are you? I need to tell you something!”

“…I don’t understand. What are you saying?” You felt so paralyzed that you didn’t even register your brother’s voice. Instead you stared at the person you thought was your boyfriend, dangerously quiet. The calm before the storm. He shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with his sleeve and clearing his throat.

“Um, I think we should break up. I’ve kind of been… seeing another girl. Shreya.”

You were careful to keep your expression neutral, crossing your arms to prevent you from worrying at your nails. “For how long?”

“Uh, I-”

“How. Long. It’s a simple question.”

“Five months.”

“Son of a bitch.” You kept your voice low, sweeping a hand towards the door. “The exit’s there. Leave.”

“Listen, I’m really-”

“Get out. I’m serious. Get the fuck out of here before I make you do so.”

He stopped and stared at you for a few seconds, realizing just how angry you were.

“Okay. Well, it was… good seeing you, I guess. I hope you-”

“Didi?”

This time you heard Pavitr call you, soft hesitancy in his voice that carried into the room from the other side of the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Pavi, I’m fine. You can come in.” You covered the cracks in the screens of overly pleasant tones that you layered over your voice so as to make sure he didn’t worry.

He quickly entered your room, and from the way he glared daggers at your now-ex-boyfriend you assumed he had heard everything - or at least, a large chunk of the conversation.

“Hey there, buddy.”

He had the nerve to smile and hold his knuckles out for a fist bump. Truth be told, you felt a sort of bitter satisfaction when Pavitr just glared up at him and didn’t bother lifting his hand to return it.

“Fuck off.”

“What?”

His eyes widened slightly and traveled from the harsh scowl fixed on Pavitr’s face to your dangerously calm demeanour.

“You heard him, didn’t you?”

“I… yeah. I’m going. See you around.”

You followed him with your eyes as he inched toward the door, shutting it behind him.

The moment he left, your unbothered façade cracked and splintered into pieces. You moved yourself to sit on your bed, slipping the covers over your legs. “Thank you,” You murmured to Pavitr, closing your eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill. He came over to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Mat rouoh didi. Hum ek movie dekhenge?” (Don’t cry didi. Wanna watch a movie?)

“Haan, please. As long as it’s not Tees Maar Khan, I am not watching that again with you. I’ve had enough of that Sheila ki Jawani. Wait, Pavi, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

“…that’s not important right now, don’t worry about it.”

You didn’t notice him anxiously trying to peel off the edge of the blanket that was stubbornly sticking to the pads of fingers.

——— ———

A week later.

It had happened so suddenly. No one seemed to know anything.

Well, except the fact that your father had died somehow.

I know we fought a lot more in… in the end, but I love you. I always have and I always will, Papa. You made me who I am today, you taught me to know my own worth and accept no less. Believe me, I think about it every day. If you were here I’d tell you.

You wished you could say that out loud, to offer everyone present a window into your thoughts to prove you weren’t just an angsty teenager - or a family disappointment, which a few aunties seemed to believe by the way they were whispering and shooting overly sympathetic looks your way which were quickly followed up by hushed giggles.

But instead you kept your head down and used what little energy you could muster to give a nod of acknowledgement every time a distant relative - even ones you hadn’t seen since you were a baby - popped up in your face to console you.

“Where’s Pavitr? Did he come to the antyesti?” You jumped; you hadn’t noticed your mother hovering beside you until she laid a light hand on your shoulder. She seemed to move around like a spectre; dressed completely in a simple white salwaar kameez with a long white shawl wrapped around her in such a way that it obscured both her arms and her hair, along with part of her face.

“No, I don’t think so - at least, I haven’t seen him.” You looked over her shoulder at the priests starting to get everything prepared for the ceremony and searched the crowds of vaguely familiar people.

Where the hell is he?

Getting the priests to agree to Pavitr - who wasn’t exactly Bhim’s son but the closest thing to it - leading the rituals was hard enough. But then again, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice, did they? You couldn’t exactly do it - the rituals of an antyesti were to be performed by the eldest son. Or the priests themselves, if he couldn’t do it for any reason. Never a woman.

You and Maya Aunty weren’t allowed to do anything except watch and pray.

And now if Pavitr didn’t show up in time-

Thwip! Thwip!

You frowned and shook your head slightly, wondering what the source of that noise was. Oh, well, probably just a pesky mosquito buzzing in your ear.

“Didi, Maya Aunty, I am so, so sorry that I’m late. Did they start already?” You jumped again in surprise - what was it with people sneaking up behind you today? You took in Pavitr’s crisp white dhoti and neatly styled hair, and for a second you couldn’t decide whether to hug him or punch him in the face.

“I’ll tell you everything later, didi. Pinky promise,” Pavitr murmured to you, offering his pinky to you. You linked your little finger with his, looking into his eyes as concern bubbled up to mix with the hurricane of emotions already clamouring for attention in your brain.

He had horrible bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept properly in a week. And when you gently squeezed his pinky, his breath hitched as if he was in pain and he drew his hand back after a few seconds. You blinked in confusion, getting a brief glimpse of painful-looking faint purple splotches all along his hand and the underside of his arm. They looked like bruises that had been poorly covered up by foundation that was almost three shades too light for his skin, but before you could say anything he turned to make his way through the crowd.

“Pavi-” You started to ask what was going on, what happened, what was wrong, but he just shook his head, angling his chin toward the priests waiting patiently for him.

“Badh mein, didi. Antyesti ke badh.” (Later. After the antyesti)

——— ———

After the ceremony.

“Pavitr Prabhakar, if you don’t tell me what’s going on-” You came face-to-face with one of your more distant aunties, who immediately lit up excitedly in a way that was probably not suited for a cremation ceremony as soon as she recognized you.

“Arrey, beta! You’ve grown so much! How old are you now? You still sing, no? Kya aapne college ke bare socha hain?” (Have you thought/started thinking about college?)

“Haha… hi, aunty… no, aunty… no, I haven’t thought about college yet… have you seen Pavitr anywhere? I need to find him and it’s really urgent but… oh, uh… yes, of course, I would love to catch up over chai sometime. Sure, we should plan that - oh, sorry, bye! Tell my mother that I’ve gone to look for Pavitr, okay? Thank you!”

Seizing the opportunity that presented itself in the form of another aunty who came waddling over to greet the first one, you squeezed through the crowd of people in sarees and dupattas, some milling about and some dispersing, all accompanied by the almost suffocating smell of jasmine. God, did everyone use the same horrible perfume?

Luckily for you, the antyesti was held fairly close to your house - on a large terrace that was only about a 15 minute walk away.

You got to the front door and fumbled with the set of keys in your pocket for a second, your fingers shaking slightly as the shock and grief began to set in. Adrenaline could only take you so far, it seemed.

“Pavi? Pavi, I’m home, where-”

You opened the door to your room and inhaled sharply at the sight that lay before you. Pavitr leaned against your bed, sitting on the floor with his knees hugged close to his chest, chin resting on his kneecaps. His eyes were squeezed shut, eyelashes fluttering as tears slipped out one after another from underneath them.

“Pavi…? Oh, Pavi, mera chhoti bhai, kya hua? Kisi ne… tumhein chot pahunchaee?” (My little brother, what happened? Did… someone hurt you?) You scooted closer to Pavitr, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and drawing him into your side. He buried his face in your shoulder, tears soaking through the thin fabric of the kurta you were wearing.

“Shh. Sab theek ho jayega. Mujhe batao, Pavi. Kya hua?” (Everything’s okay. Tell me, what happened?)

“I’m Spider-Man.”

You blinked in surprise. Out of all the possible explanations he could have offered you, that was certainly not on your list. “Spider-Man? Matlab… the superhero?” (Matlab means meaning)

The hero had emerged only a week ago. Wearing an intricately patterned mask that left his wavy hair loose at the top, a blue-and-red spandex suit and blue dhoti pants on top of them, he was basically impossible to ignore. You had seen some key similarities between Spider-Man and Pav’s hair, but you had always just assumed it was related to how boys cut their hair like their idols sometimes.

“Chacha died because of Spider-Man. Because of me. He got caught in the crossfire and I couldn’t reach him in time and-” Pavitr’s words spilled together in a panicked haze, blurring each syllable and tripping over letters in an attempt to get them out before he could break again. (Chacha is another word for uncle)

You shifted to face him, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Shaant ho jao. Main yahaan hoon. Main kaheen nahin ja raha hoon.” (Calm down. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere)

“I can’t-” His breath quickened as his whole body started to heave with dry sobs. “Please just… just listen to me. This is what I wanted to tell you last week. I’m Spider-Man.”

He mistook your silence as a sign of disbelief and carried on speaking, trying to convince you. “There were these bullies I was running from, and I tripped and fell into a tree hollow and there was this yogi who said he’d give me the powers of a spider to fight the evil in this world, and I didn’t know it would turn out like this so I accepted and-”

“I believe you.”

That caught him off guard. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes wide. “You do?”

“Of course. You think I haven’t noticed you sticking to everything? You almost ripped the couch’s upholstery clean off because you weren’t paying attention.” You gently swiped your thumb near the corner of his eye, wiping away the tear that was at risk of spilling out. “It’s okay, Pavi. Let’s.. talk about something else for the moment.”

As much as you wanted answers - how exactly had your father died? Which sick, twisted, psychotic ‘villain’ killed him? - you knew when to stop pushing Pavitr and now was definitely that time. Tears still shone in the corners of his brown eyes, not quite ready to fall but not small enough to be blinked away.

“Spiderwebs!”

“What?”

“You need spiderwebs, naa? So you can swing like a spider instead of leaping around and relying on sticking to whatever surface you can reach. Ooh, it’d be so cool if you could shoot them from your hands and lasso bad guys and when they fight back you go dishoom dishoom.” (dishoom is basically just a sound effect for beating someone up 😭 usually punching someone)

“… you mean webshooters?” Pavitr watched your emphatic display of just what dishoom dishoom meant to you with a mildly concerned look on his face before he took a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and smoothed it out. It was filled with designs for some sort of gadget, the sharp, jagged pencil lines highlighting every feature and listing possible building processes.

“I’ve done some research and I’ve got everything, so I know how to make it. But I need something that can contract if I wrap a web around it… kind of like a yo-yo? But it also has to fit on my wrist so that it’s easy for me to angle where I want the web to go.” He absentmindedly tapped the pencil against the silver bangle you were wearing. The soft clinks gave you an idea and you quickly got up, going to your dresser and rummaging around in the drawers.

“Wait, I think I might have something that’ll work…”

Your fingers closed around what you were looking for and you fished it out. You held two large golden cuffs in your hands, but they weren’t regular heavy cuffs. The top and bottom were actually two separate pieces, joined together in the middle by a stretchy piece of white nylon that went all the way around.

Just looking at it made your heart ache a little as all the memories associated with the simple accessory came flooding back.

Your father had given it to you a few Diwalis ago, when you were throwing a tantrum about having to wear the large bangles to go to with the itchy salwar you had on - against your wishes, of course. But your mother warned you that her mother was a stickler for traditions and insisted on everyone wearing the most colourful ethnic wear you all had, including Pavi.

Your father had slid one of the cuffs onto your right wrist, laughing gently at your surprise look when you discovered how light they were, a stark contrast to the gold bangles that weighed down your other wrist.

“Compromise paaya, hain na?” (We’ve found a compromise, right?)

“Haan, papa.”

Now, more than eight years later, you held one of the last things you had left to keep your father’s memory alive.

And what better way to honour him than to use his kaadas to fight evil and protect the city?

“Use these.”

Pavitr looked up and immediately shook his head, gently pushing away your outstretched hands. “No, didi, I can’t- this is what Uncle gave you-”

“I know. He gave them to me as a gift. And now I’m passing them down to you. Please, Pavi. Take them.” You took his hands, pressing the kaadas into his palms and closing his fingers over them.

Something in your tone made him search your gaze for a few seconds before giving in and bringing the cuffs up to his eyes, testing out the nylon middle. “Wait, this is perfect. If I can just…”

He reached into the depths of one of your drawers and pulled out a small device that looked like it had some sort of fluid sloshing around in its… fuel container, maybe? You furrowed your brow in surprise. “Has that always been there? In my cupboard?”

“Well, yeah. Can’t have Maya Aunty accidentally pulling it out of mine, can we?” He gave you a grin. “Besides, you have so many things stuffed into that one drawer that it’s basically impossible to find.”

He attached the device to the inside of the cuff with a small click and slipped it onto his wrist.

Thwip! Thwip!

With two tiny flicks of his wrist, he had shot two webs to the ceiling and was now hanging upside down, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Well, this is working pretty well-”

Thud.

“Don’t you dare,” Pavitr warned you as he winced and rubbed the spot where he had fallen on his backside.

“I will not laugh. I will not laugh. I will not-”

You couldn’t help but burst into giggles at his mildly pathetic sad-puppy expression as he sat dejectedly on the floor after falling from the ceiling.

“So, uh… the web strength may need some work.”

“Everybody, this is Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar, Mumbattan’s Spider-Man.” You pretend to speak into an imaginary microphone, gesturing animatedly towards Pav as he lay on the floor.

“Oh, sure, announce it to the whole world, why don’t you,” He grumbled, reluctantly pulling himself to his feet.

You gave him an overly sweet smile, leaning over to mess up his hair. “Never. I’m gonna take this secret with me to my grave.”

——— ———

14 & 16.

6 months really went by quickly.

6 months of monthly poojas to honour your deceased father. 6 months of Pavitr being Spider-Man. And also…

“Didi! Why isn’t my hair staying down?!”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because that bad guy threw you into an electricity tower? Pavi, why are you dressing up all of a sudden anyway?” You sat on the floor of your room as you skeptically watched him brush out his hair. He had insisted that your mirror was big enough and ‘had the best lighting’.

He stayed silent, though you could see him scrunch his nose a little in embarrassment. The realization hit you and you let out a loud - maybe overly dramatic - gasp.

“Oh my god! You have a date!”

“…maybe. So?”

“So that means I get to meet and terrorize them! You know, sibling stuff!”

Pavitr froze for a split second, a small smile starting to form in the corner of his mouth at the last part. Siblings. In all honesty, didn’t that word describe the bond you both shared almost perfectly? Siblings - not by blood, but by something so much bigger than either of you could’ve imagined.

“Absolutely not. Gayatri’s-”

“Gayatri? Is she Punjabi? Ooh, is she pretty? Is she really badass and cool and-”

“She’s a model,” Pavitr interrupted, smoothing down his hair and glaring at you. “And this isn’t my first date with her. Just for the record.”

“Wow, and she’s your age? Damn, Pavi, you managed to pull a model! I’m so proud of you right now.”

“I will strangle you if you don’t stop talking,” Pavitr grumbled, punching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not saying anything bad!”

“Sure you ar-” Pavitr stopped mid-sentence and stiffened, craning his neck and glancing out the window over his shoulder like a cat that had heard something strange. “Wait, someone’s here. Gotta go!”

He dashed into the bathroom and came out two seconds later, fully decked out in his spider suit and mask.

“Don’t get your ass kicked!” You called out as he nose-dived out the window.

“Ha, ha! Very funny!”

——— ———

10 minutes later.

“Pavitr, what the hell?!” You leaped backwards as a strange sort of alien materialized in your room for a split second before they disappeared into a black hole-like void, followed by a… Spider-Man? Not Pav. This one was taller and his suit was red and black, and oh God, was he bleeding from his armpits?

You were tempted to offer him a few cotton wipes and something to clean the wound but he disappeared in after the weird teleporting alien before you could ask.

Pavitr came crashing in through your window, landing on the floor and glancing around. “What? I thought they came here-”

“Really?! Now you show up? I’ve just had some sort of cow-man and a new Spider-Man teleport into my room through a pit and-” You stopped short as another Spider-Man landed on the floor. Except… Spider-Woman? She wore a suit in the shape of a white-and-black ballet leotard and had a hood with web designs on the inside.

“Pavitr, is… this Gayatri?” You tried to wrap your head around the fact that there were three different types of Spider-People and a cow on the wrong side of evolution who had just phased through your house. “Oh, hi, Gayatri, I’ve heard so much about you. Pavi thinks you’re really classy and cool and you’re the prettiest girl alive and-”

Pavitr webbed a pillow and swung it into your face before you could finish, temporarily shutting you up. “Didi, this… this isn’t Gayatri.” Despite his face being covered by his mask, you could tell from his tone that he was embarrassed out of his wits. “This is, uh… this is Gwen. She’s a Spider-Woman. Look, it’s hard to explain, but they’re all from different universes and I think the New Guy’s in love with Gwen, so we gotta go save their romance before it shatters. Bye!”

He leaped out the window again, followed by Gwen - who was stuttering and tripping over her words trying to form a plausible denial for his last statement.

Never a dull day in Mumbattan, I guess.

——— ———

5 minutes after that ordeal.

“Arrey, your chai is getting cold. Drink fast, no?”

“Haan, Amma. Ek second.” (One second) You moved away from where you were hovering near the window. As much as Pavitr reassured you that he was okay, that being Spider-Man was easy now - you still remembered having to disinfect wounds and ice bruises and watch him hiss and crinkle his face up in pain every time you wiped a tissue soaked in Dettol along his cuts.

Maybe those were only fairly harmless flesh wounds, but what kept you up at night was the worry that one day it might turn into something worse.

“I’m drinking it,” You said defensively and sat down as Maya Aunty lifted an eyebrow at you over her own mug. Just as you sat down the whole ground seemed to shake, a horrible din filling the air, screams and the sound of rubble falling mingling together in the cacophony.

“Oh, someone blew down Alchemax,” said Maya Aunty once the noise died down. With a small shake of her head, she casually returned to her chai as if this sort of thing happened almost every day.

“What an idiot.” You glanced out the window, squinting into the distance and widening your eyes as your eyes snagged on a flash of vibrant fabric flying through the air, just barely visible through the pieces of flying rubble.

Oh, fuck, that’s my idiot.

——— ———

You figured the easiest and fastest way to get near Alchemax was to take the bus. After all, those bus drivers had basically decided long ago that they were above the rules of the traffic. They honestly didn’t give a damn about the speed limits and you respected that.

“Hi, Y/N!” You turned at your name, tilting your head curiously because you didn’t recognise the voice.

You found yourself looking at someone who looked oddly familiar, you just couldn’t place it - until you glanced briefly out the window and saw a Zomato billboard. Of course if had to be her, how else would she know your name?

“Oh, are you Gayatri? Hi! It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you from Pavi.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, and likewi-“

The bus swerved sharply and you, Gayatri and more than half of the people who weren’t holding onto the railings were slammed against the back window before the bus started to tilt forward. You blinked away stars for a few seconds as the wind was knocked out of you.

When you regained your vision you let out a yelp of surprise. Someone yelled “Fuck!” right next to you, followed by a string of unrepeatable Marathi cusswords - while also listing out gods and praying to them that they’d make it out alive - and you could understand why.

Some dumbass - or maybe a large piece of rubble - had ripped a hole in the middle of the fucking Mumbattan Bridge. The whole bus was falling right into that hole, and unfortunately the bus driver’s magical ability to fly straight over potholes seemed to have evaded him right now, judging by the fact that he was currently contributing to the chorus of terrified screams.

“Hold on!” Gayatri caught your forearm right as your grip on the flimsy side railing was loosening and pulled you up to latch onto the railing at the back. Good lord, was this girl strong. You decided right then and there that you definitely liked her.

You saw Pavitr stop mid-swing and turn around, his mask’s eyes widening as he saw both of you pounding relentlessly on the back bus window in the hopes that it would break in time.

He shot a web that stuck to the back of the bus, tipping it almost vertically as he held onto one of the bridge supports. His eyes narrowed with effort as he struggled to hold onto the deceptively delicate-looking silky tendrils.

You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for the time when Pavitr fell from the ceiling 6 months ago. If that hadn’t happened, you and the other people on this bus would’ve been flattened on the ground by now. Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down.

Pavitr glanced behind him, his shoulders falling slightly in shock. The web holding onto the bus stretched and dipped, threatening to snap any second. He wrapped the silken web around the support, trying to bring it up.

You and Gayatri were just barely hanging on, your entire bodies dangling down with gravity as you held onto the railing for dear life.

Suddenly something changed. Another web attached itself to the bus and pulled you onto the bridge. Another Spider-Man, possibly?

You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as the bus levelled itself on solid ground again. Gayatri gave you a weak smile, grasping your hand and pulling you straight into the throng of people rushing to exit the bus.

The moment she stepped outside Pavitr wrapped her in a hug, eliciting a surprised squeak from Gayatri.

“Are you okay? I was so worried-” He realized his mistake mid-sentence, drawing back from her and patting her shoulders with both hands, unsure whether to cross his arms or rest them on his hips. “Uh, you seem like a nice young woman who I do not know…”

Gayatri chuckled softly and looked past him. “Papa!”

“Gayatri!”

She ran at him and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. Seeing their bond warmed your heart but also made it ache slightly with the acceptance that that could never happen to you with your own father.

“Real smooth, Pavi,” You grinned at your brother, who grumbled something under his breath and closed the distance to crush you in a hug.

“Shush, didi. I just saved your ass.”

“Yeah, I suppose you did.” You ruffled his hair affectionately and pulled back, smiling at the growing shouts of ‘dhanyavadh, makhdi-bhaiya!’. (Thank you, Spider-Guy!)

“Amma’s going to kill you, by the way. She thinks you snuck out to go to some p-”

You let out a soft mmph as you collided with possibly the boniest person you had ever had the misfortune of bumping into. You were pretty sure you had just got stabbed in seven different places by various joints.

“Sorry, I didn’t-” You paused as you looked up, taking in spikes, a leather vest, pins, a guitar, and mask eyes which looked like running mascara.

“Holy shit, you’re really cool.”

The Spider-Man variant blinked in surprise and let out a laugh. “Why, thank you, poppet. I try. Pisses the fascists off so much that they call me Spider-Punk.”

You heard the twang of a well-known (almost infamous, at least in Mumbattan) accent and glanced at Pavitr. “He’s British,” He confirmed, giving Hobie a high-five.

“Well, I don’t care. He looks awesome.”

“Oi, Pav, I like this one.” He gave you an appreciative fist-bump, and you lifted your eyebrows at the sheer size difference between both of your hands.

“That’s my sister.”

“Makes sense. But you know I didn’t mean it like that. She seems cool is all.”

“Wait. If you’re British, can you do us a favour and steal back the Kohinoor? Please?”

“I’ll try my best, but I can’t make any promises. Fuckin’ Sweeney*, I doubt they even know where it’s kept.” (*Sweeney/Sweeney Todd - Cockney rhyming slang for Flying Squad [the police])

You nodded along politely with a smile like you actually understood even one word of that sentence. “Well, okay, in that case-”

You turned and almost burst out laughing. Pavitr looked like he was on the losing end of a staring contest, his hand almost engulfed in Inspector Singh’s much bigger one. Gayatri stood behind him, looking between them in awe. “I’ve never seen him so emotional.”

“Excellent job.”

Your bother just gave a nod, but knowing Pavitr he was internally over the moon and would hold that simple statement close to his heart, insisting that his girlfriend’s dad “loved him”.

“Man-like Miles, my guy!” Hobie grabbed the red and black Spider-Man - Miles’ - shoulders and shook him excitedly, punching him lightly as the people of Mumbattan started cheering.

You were about to join in when something happened. Well, not happened, really, but… something felt off somehow. You had read something once that said a person’s hair stands on end as a warning when lightning’s about to strike. You imagined that’d feel like you you were feeling right now. And you could hear whistling… was that sound just your ears being weird?

The cheers died down suddenly and you turned around too late. One of those portal-holes, slicing through the air like a deadly frisbee, slammed into you and knocked you inside in such a way that you got teleported straight off the side of the bridge. You scrabbled for the supports, but to no avail as you sailed right past them.

You heard Pavitr’s panicked yell, the sounds of confused and worried chatter bubbling among the ground, and the air rushing around in your ears as you free-fell.

You can’t save me, you realized as you saw Pavitr dive off the bridge, reaching out his wrist in preparation of shooting a web. You won’t get here in time. You focused on mouthing the next few words that came to your mind, because if you were going to die and leave your brother you would do so by reminding him that he was - and always would be - loved. Pavi, I’m sorry. I love you. I always will.

Your stomach dropped and your head spun - but by some mercy you didn’t feel the final impact.

——— ———

Pavitr’s POV.

“No, no no no- please, please no-”

Pavi, I’m sorry.

I love you.

Six words. Six words which shouldn’t be used in the same sentence. Those two sets separately, sure, but in very different scenarios.

Those would not be the last words you said to him. They couldn’t be.

Time seemed to slow down, making his movements sluggish and hazy. He stretched his wrist out till it ached, silk erupting from his - no, your - kaada. Come on, come on…

The silk shot toward you and for a second he thought it would reach in time.

Then he heard a crash and watched you fall straight through the flimsy tin roof of an abandoned warehouse. “No!”

He landed after you, shooting a web at a street lamp and pulling up to break the built-up momentum at the last second. Kicking down the warehouse door, he rushed over to your limp form, sprawled across a few empty crates in the dimly lit space.

“Nonono you have to stay with me, please don’t go, I can’t-” Pavitr swallowed hard as he picked you up and set you down with your back against the wall, holding up your jaw so your head didn’t fall forward. He snapped his fingers in front of your face two, three times - no response.

He could feel his vision starting to blur, heart practically causing an earthquake as he shakily put his finger to the pulse point on your neck.

Nothing.

“No,” He whispered into the still air, as if that would be able to revive someone who was so much more than just a cousin. You were his sister, his closest and most annoying friend, his anchor. You were supposed to be a constant in his life. If you were gone… what would go next?

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, cradling your lifeless body in his arms. But after a little while Hobie dropped in through the hole in the ceiling, and Miles and Gwen came in through the door. He didn’t understand anything they were saying. Pavitr felt like he was underwater, the cold, murky silence filling his ears and bleeding into his brain.

Someone else, much bigger than him tried to drag him away. Someone wearing a beige police uniform and a turban. He kicked and fought, screaming at them that they didn’t understand, he couldn’t leave you, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. That you were going to wake up soon. You were only unconscious, after all. You had to wake up sometime.

You had to, right?

Pavitr watched as you were placed on a stretcher, a white cloth laid over your body. He slumped in the hands of whoever was struggling to drag him away as all his hopes of you waking up splintered into a million pieces. Pieces that he would step on and trip over and they would cut his skin a billion times. Little tiny paper cuts. Paper cut after paper cut, till he bled out.

Through whatever shocked haze his brain was forcing itself into, he knew that something inside him had broken. Duct tape could fix it. Duct tape could fix anything. Was this metaphor for something? His brain really needed to slow down, he couldn’t keep up with what was and what wasn’t fixable with a single roll of duct tape.

He pictured his heart, the muscles and blood vessels torn clean through in the centre, forming a hole in the shape of you. Did it stop beating? It felt like it stopped beating. Was there a way to check if he was still alive? He hoped he was. Though there didn’t feel like much reason to be. Not anymore, at least.

Oh. Maya Aunty. Someone would have to tell Maya Aunty. No, he would have to tell Maya Aunty.

Two funerals in the span of 6 months. Two core members of the family gone.

Twin flames burning warm and bright, always lighting up the entire place with their own unique luminosities, until they couldn’t anymore. The wicks were extinguished and the candles melted into stumps before their time.

The Spot knew exactly what he was doing, Pavitr realized. Because he might as well have set fire to his entire home.

——— ———

15 & still 16.

Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar was many things.

He was Mumbattan’s Spider-Man. He was Maya Aunty’s nephew. He was Gayatri’s boyfriend. He honoured his dead parents with his last name. He carried the legacy of his dead uncle with his middle name alone.

Most of all, he carried the memory of his sister in every scar that he got that day.

Suddenly every moment you had spent with him seemed too little. Even just one of your hugs would take away some of the pain.

Keep them in your heart, they’re watching over you. Recall the memories you made with them.

What did that even mean in this case? You had gone too soon. Dead, cremated at 16. You weren’t even an adult. And what hurt the most was that everything - from your room to your belongings - was exactly how you left it.

It had been almost 3 months and he still hadn’t let anyone change anything in your room. The messy duvet could stay messy. And the pillow that was thrown at the foot of the bed had taken up permanent residence there.

The room smelled like vanilla and honeycomb. And it would stay that way for as long as he could help it. If someone rearranged anything, would that part of you disappear from this house? He didn’t want to find out.

Everything that made this room yours would stay there, it had to. The way you meticulously arranged every makeup and hair product by height, colour and serial order on your chest of drawers. The way your cupboards always smelled of cotton candy because of an essence diffuser your friend had given you.

Gayatri, Miles, Gwen and Hobie had all tried their best to help him, and Margo had even dropped in a few times and offered to play video games with him. And admittedly, he was in a much better frame of mind than how he was only a little while ago.

He sat on the floor, hugging his legs loosely to his chest and clutching a mug of chai in one hand. Pavitr couldn’t say anything even if he wanted to; the altogether lack of the owner of this room made the silence even more oppressive and suffocating.

He stretched his legs out slowly, refusing to let his mind wander. Focus on the wallpaper. Focus on the sound of traffic. Focus on the chai. Focus on anything except the posters, the pillows, the way that it felt like time itself was holding its breath inside this room.

Pavitr’s leg brushed something hidden underneath the rug in front of him. Frowning slightly in confusion, he leaned forward to peer underneath the fuzzy square of fabric - finding nothing but a small notebook and a pen.

He pulled it out and, upon recognizing it, drew in a surprised inhale. The leather-bound cover was dusty and worn out. The label that read Bhim Prabhakar in neatly printed handwriting had been scratched out, jagged words cutting across the paper like tiny knife strokes. His heart squeezed when he read the word written in the second handwriting.

Y/N.

Of course he remembered this book, how could he not? On days when you had noticed he felt sad, you tore out two lined pages of paper and made him write down what was bothering him in a letter.

“Here, Pavi. Write it to anyone you want, and fill it out with everything bad that happened today. You don’t have to send it to them, don’t worry. I’ll even do it with you.”

He still remembered the first time he had done that activity with you. You both sat back-to-back, scribbling down all the ‘yucky feelings’, as you had put it once. Pavitr had finished his letter and surprised you by addressing it to you, twisting around to hand you the folded piece of paper.

You hadn’t addressed your letter yet, so you wrote his name on the top in big block letters.

To: Pavitr Prabhakar.

Because it was a very official document, you had explained solemnly.

And when you took a look at how he had mentioned you, you had lunged forward and trapped him in a bone-crushing hug.

To: The Best Didi In The World.

He felt tears well up slightly as he recalled the amount of times he went and wordlessly sat at the edge of your bed, pointing to the leather journal. And you would pull out two pages, hand him a pen, and sit back-to-back on the floor. Every time, without fail.

Pavitr opened the book, running a hand along the pages of handwritten letters that were unevenly glued or stapled in. Some were tearing at the edges, others had chai-stains or ink splotches.

He carefully pulled out a page - only one this time - and picked up a pen from the mug of stationery on your bedside table.

Pausing to think for a second, he tested the pen on the bottom of the page. Then moved the tip to the first line.

Dear Y/N,

Pavitr stopped and narrowed his eyes at that. It felt strange, almost alien for some reason. A foreign word on these pages.

He tapped his pen on the page as he got an idea. He scratched out the two words he had written, addressing it to someone with a different yet more familiar title, at least to him.

To: The Best Didi In The World.

I know very little about the antyesti process so if anything’s wrong don’t hesitate to correct me! <3

Glossary:

Antyesti - Antyesti literally means "last sacrifice" or "final auspicious ceremony", and refers to the funeral rites for the dead in Hinduism, which usually involves cremation of the body. This rite of passage is the last samskara in a series of traditional life cycle samskaras that start from conception in Hindu tradition.

Saree/Sari - A saree is a garment consisting of a length of cotton or silk elaborately draped around the body, traditionally worn by women from South Asia. It is usually worn with a blouse that exposes part of the midriff, but blouse styles can vary.

Dupatta - A length of material worn arranged in one or two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez or a kurta, worn by women from South Asia. (Srry guys u have to look up those two definitions if ur curious,, it’s better to see how it looks rather than read a description anyway)

Kancha - Kancha is played by using marbles. It is popular in small Indian cities and villages, among small boys only as a gully sport. It is rarely played by girls. The participant has to hit the marble kept in a circle. If he hits the target properly, he wins. The winner gets the kancha (maybe kanche is the plural form? idk) of the other participant boys.

Lagori/Pithoo/Seven Stones - Lagori is a traditional game from the Indian subcontinent. It involves a pile of stones and a ball.

A member of one team (the seekers) throws a ball at a pile of stones to knock them over. The seekers then try to restore the pile of stones while staying safe from the opposing team's (the hitters’) throws. The hitters' objective is to hit the seekers with the ball before they can reconstruct the stone pile. If the ball touches a seeker, that seeker is out and the team which the seeker came from continues, without the seeker. A seeker can always safeguard themselves by touching an opposite team member before the ball hits the seeker.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @vhstown

[photographerstanheight]

FIRST DEAD BODY I'VE EVER SEEN...

THEY LOOK DIFFERENT IN REAL LIFE. THEY DON'T MOVE.

Hi. I'm Adam. Adam Stanheight. 26 years old. He/Him, what else do I say... I got no goddamn clue what I am. Bi? Gay? Pan? Don't give a shit. Women are cool. Men are fucking great. Like all those kinds of people. I'm that one guy, you probably know me, from that fucking bathroom shithole or whatever. It fucking sucked. ...And now I'm here. Posting on some random website I thought was interesting, plus it's full of freaks to make fun of. What will I post exactly? No fucking idea. Cats, photos I've taken, maybe some death threats to Jigsaw... By the way Jigsaw go kill yourself. Old Prick. Anyway. Do whatever. I really don't give a shit, you wanna talk? Talk. You wanna send memes? Send memes. Make sure they're fucking funny. You wanna whine to me about how sad your sorry life is? Go right ahead. I'm not a therapist so I'll probably laugh in your face.

Everyone shut the fuck up we have a fucking art fridge now this is a new addition yes I’m serious

Art 1. (Mr Millipede ily /p)

Art 2. (Aka me kissing billy its canon)

Art 3. (Smiling friends… smiling friends save me…)

Art 4. (Me and the HOMIE!!! A COUPLE OF BFFSSS!!! Unless… WHO SAID THAT!!!!)

By the way look at my cool ass cat. Her name is Mabel.

OOC UNDER THE CUT

Frowns... Hi chat... It's me... Dew... Sighs....... I have been uncovered from the depths of hell.... sad face emoji... but hi :,]

I'm sure all my mutuals will come swarming so i'm not gonna go thru the whole junk ab pronouns or whatnot ugh... he/him just in case. also don't be weird. I am an adult and yeaes ... so yeah if i see age below 18 i will nawt be doing weird 18+ stuff BITES OWN ARM OFF

But heeeeeyyyy, I'm a chainshipping, rustynailshipping and yapping FREAK so i made this to hopefully hang out w chatters... but also i wanna bother the fuck outta apprentices and other people sorry not sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Erm.. what else... my writing of Adam will be that he's trans!!!!! Omg ur transgener... That is so cool... He has top surgery but not bottom surgery,, guh... girl queen pussy boss....

AAAAnd I think I'm gonna let a bit of my chaos out so expect poootentially sooome sexual schtuffs?? Yours truly has some sillies in mind as a hypersexual loser like myself... I won't make it his whole personality tho idk :P

How did Adam get out of the trap? I don't fucking know and I am too goddamn lazy to think of it rn. I'll post tho when I actually can think , puts splinters in my eyes

Tags... lame. Whatever yapyap i'm a loser and i like 2 b fan see

|📸| ~ 𝑴𝑶𝑫 𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑺. - ya boy is yapping

|📸| ~ 𝑨𝑫𝑨𝑴 𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑺. - ask replies ofc

|📸| ~ 𝑨𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑺 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺. - hes talking to people waoah,...

|📸| ~ 𝑨𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑺 𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺. - he's talking!!!!! just for fun

|📸| ~ 𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝑺. - beginning to roleplays perhaps idk i just like to have them

anyway erm... face reveal!!!!

[unolvrs]

The way you write canon characters to not be ooc is insane to me. The way everything flows has me banging my hand against the wall from the sheer beauty of your writing. Is there a process or a trick you do to help understand a character you write? I’ve been having issues writing more complex characters *cough cough* jjk & csm characters *cough cough*. Any advice would be appreciated, thank you for the hard work with all of your fics!

AVOIDING OOC HOW-TO!

omg thank you so much?? i am literally gonna cry because i write character-driven stories more than plot-driven so you saying that makes me feel so good right now i will cry.

but the way i think about it is like, if you're doubting something the character is doing, then you're probably doing it wrong. the most recent chapter of froggie was completely different from what it was supposed to be originally. and the reason for that change is because the characters were entirely very, very much ooc. i hate just thinking about it, ugh.

anyway, i'm not really sure if there's a trick to it? i like to think whether or not the character was originally written in a complex way in the original media, i still write them with the intention of their being complex. but instead of being complex, i think it's more writing them as humans. i honestly don't know. i've always been a socially aware and insecure kid so i pick things up easily, so i might not have the best answer to give you.

but if i really think about it, just consume as much media about them as possible and put yourself in their place in a somewhat of a method acting but not way. whether or not you think they're about to do something bad, just go with it as long as you feel like it's accurate. or, you can write them in a way you don't actually write their character.

for example, in my among dawn flowers (the face of god), we see gojō from the perspective of the main character so how the main character describes gojō might not exactly be how gojō actually is but just a surface-level observation from the character. the main character might see gojō doing this for what she thinks is because of that, but in gojō's head, he's doing it because of a different reason. keeping a character from a distance helps a lot and making your character overthink their character also adds some psychological spice that makes the story look more complex and interesting.

but if you want it to be more ingrained in the character's perspective like what i did in sunday without god where it's entirely in nanami's pov, make him focus on what you already know: aka your character. make your character do this and that but don't write in a way that you're leading specifically what you want to happen. i think the hard thing about writing fanfics is that the characters you're writing aren't yours. that's why instead of usually leading up to what you want to happen, you're going to use what the character would realistically do then adjust your story to their decisions.

you can't really just choose to write a canon character in a way that serves you because that would just end up OOC. writing fanfiction, in my opinion, is adjusting to what the canon character would do while maintaining the essence of your plot.

but if you're writing strictly canon characters with no interactions with OCs, then all i can say is yes, consume as much media about them and it might not be a nice advise, but restrict yourself. the character isn't yours so you can't just go running off and make up things that aren't really true. consider it in a behavioralist perspective: with every action you have to consider their past, present, and future, most especially the past and their backstories because backstories always affect present actions and future aftermaths.

IN SUMMARY:

treat them as humans and not just as one-dimensional characters!

if you're really struggling to write the character, don't write them! write around them through keeping it from an outside perspective from a character you know or make the canon character react to a character you know / something you're familiar with.

consume as much media, read fics that you like and do not like about them and figure out why you think so!

that's all i could think of hehehe <3

according to my friend whom i also asked in passing: "writing a canon character is already considered personal interpretation." and i was like ooh? that's true.

[lyricfulloflight]

20 questions for writers

tagged by @ongreenergrasses Thank you so much - I will answer even though I haven't posted any new fic in ages. I am still writing though... slowly and sporadically, but still writing.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

27

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

351,600

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I have written for Cherik/X-men and The Old Guard (Joe x Nicky).

I am currently working on 2 Buddie fics in the 9-1-1 fandom, but haven't posted anything to ao3 yet.

I also have 3 old Klaroline fics still up on fanfiction.net that I sometimes think I should move to ao3 but haven't yet.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

An Omega's Worth - Cherik, regency ABO fic. WIP that I am determine to finish someday!

The Consequence of Hiding - Cherik, AU but they still have powers. Completed and over 100k!

At First Glance - Cherik. Complete. AU. Written for Secret Mutant Madness. Fluffy and sweet.

Airwaves - Cherik, Complete. AU no powers, set at a university radio station. Completed for a Big Bang with lovely fanart by @ireneadonovan

Right In Front of Me - The Old Guard (Joe x Nicky). Incomplete (and honestly barely started...gosh I should really get back to this one)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to all comments.

I haven't been great at it lately because I'm not actively writing, but if I'm actively writing I always reply and I am happy to chat about my writing on tumblr too!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hollow.

It's a short Cherik fic, though mostly a character delve into Charles during Xmdofp. Someone asked me to write Dark!Charles and this was the result. It's very angsty and different from anything else I've written.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It's Just A Summer Thing.

It has the big happy ending. And though the fic does have some angst in it, I wrote it to be fun and sweet - it's set at a summer soccer camp (except the last chapter) and its supposed to be cute.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really.

I've had a couple critical comments, but not 'hate'.

9. Do you write smut?

I have, yes.

I don't always, but I think I write smut well when I do decide it fits within the story I want to tell.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Sort of? Once?

A Man Apart is probably the closest thing I have written that's a crossover. It's still Cherik, but Erik is an android, inspired by Michael Fassbender's roles in the Alien franchise.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I know somebody asked me once about translating one of my fics years ago, but I don't know if that happened - they didn't follow up with me once I gave my permission, so I assume the translation was not compelte.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes!

Yet another fic that isn't complete (we were so close and its my fault it stalled). The lovely @msfbgraves and I co-wrote 'Someday I'll Find You', another Cherik AU.

14. What is your all time favorite ship?

Cherik.

I've written the most for them and for the longest. I still go back to my old fics and my WIPs all the time. I am still actively thinking about An Omega's Worth and how I can finish it. I reblog Cherik content daily on tumblr. I can't really image not being in the Cherik fandom in some capacity.

Buddie is my current obsession and I hope they are as long lasting as Cherik, but Cherik is still my ultimate love.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'd love to finish Someday I'll Find You, because we were so close, but I don't know if it will happen. Even if I continue I don't know if @msfbgraves would want to keep writing it after all these years!

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think character voice and dialogue are my strengths. My writing tends to be very character focused and I hope I write characters that feel believable and close enough to canon not to feel OOC.

I can also be funny at times.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting. I don't like to sit down and plot things out.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language during a fic?

I prefer not to. There are so many nuances in language and phrasing, its hard enough to get it right in my own language, let alone one I don't know. I have include short sentences in other languages (German for example), but I ask other people to make sure the translation makes sense if I can.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Klaroline from the Vampire Diaries

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Aside from the fics I've already mentioned, I will give a shout out to one of my lesser kudoed fics: To Build A Home.

It's a Joe x Nicky early days fic from the The Old Guard fandom. It has truly incredible art from @notablogtobefollowedunless. And I think its one of my best fics in terms of action. As well as showing how the bond of trust was built between the two main characters.

I am tagging: @ikeracity, @pinkoptics, @lindstromm, @gerec, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @exhuastedpigeon, @akasanata

[jane-lynndrake-t]

//OOC

Hey I don't want to be rude but not knowing how Janet Drake dies is a red flag for an RP blog about Janet Drake. Don't get me wrong, the multiverse means characters like Janet die in different ways but I feel like you should know this.

I'm really not here to step on your toes but I feel like planning ahead is your friend. Especially with your take on Janet.

Ooc

Hi! Thanks for the concern! I want to reassure you and say, "Yes, her death is how it was canonically in DC Comic's Rite of Passage."

Just to be clear, I mean that she died from poisoned water right as Batman tried to save both her and Jack from being kidnapped and ransomed to America by terrorists based in Haiti.

The memory she has of the earth quake was just incidental and part of how Jack and Janet decided to become a couple.

So I'm not really sure what you mean when you say that I am unaware of how she died.

the set up of this blog is this:

After being dead for 4 years, she suddenly wakes up in the hands of a group with access to Lazarus Pits.

She does not remember the past 20 years before she died, nor does she remember her own death.

This “blog” is actually a journal to her that she uses to help express her feelings and organize her thoughts and actions. Fortunately, this isn’t a normal journal, as it allows beings from different multiverses (you!!) to help her and give her advice and also help her remember her past!

This means initially,

She doesn't remember that she died while on business/archeology trip.

She doesn't know she died to a terrorist group in haiti

She doesn't know that Gotham's biggest issues are no longer the mob.

As for knowing how she died, the previous posts hint at her remembering her death.

Here

Here

Here is her finding out how she died via her obituary.

This is an interactive story, so it’s up to you guys to help her figure out the answers to mysteries like,

Why did Janet Drake get resurrected now out of all times?

Who kidnapped her and nursed her back to health using the lazurus pits?

Why did they do that?

And other mysteries that are going to come as old ones get solved.

I also wanted to explore what her character might be like outside of being a fridged character.

That means taking a look into how she might view her marriage, how she views her ambitions, how she views motherhood and how she views her work.

I also wanted to explore her canonical hobbies.

Tim describes it as haute couture but I think she likes it, not for the outward reputation, but because she has personal stake and nuanced thoughts and theories on different ones.

Please rest assured, I did a lot of research on her canonical depiction, not only as how she appeared but also to other character's reflections of her.

I also have an overall plot that I’ve planned and reworked for twoish weeks. So I genuinely have planned ahead. My goal on my take of her character is also more canonically aligned than not.

This was all meant to be a fic but i don’t have time for that right now so I thought this would be a fun different way to tell this story.

Janet Drake is genuinely my favourite fridged character ever.

If you have any questions, please send in an ask! If you have any other thoughts, either the Missus or me can answer for you.

Thanks again for interacting!

[jackson-selene-andres]

Intro post

It’s Jackson! Selene, and Andrés, and I made us a tumblr blog!

Me and Andrés are literally some of the most wanted criminals how is this a good idea

Sh niñita, let’s just see how this goes

Yeah Selene

Fuck you

Ok so, I’m Jackson, you might know me better as (tbd) since that’s my “superhero name.” I’m the hero of my city, and I do superhero things, I guess. I’m 25 years old, I’m white, I’m gay, I’m autistic, I have ptsd I think, and I have sectoral heterochromia (one of my eyes is green and the other is green and brown)(it’s my left eye)(well my right, but if you’re looking at me it’s the left).

This is pretty close to what I look like

That picture-

Faceclaim, it’s not actually me

That “fAcEcLaIm” or whatever the fuck it is does you no justice. You’re way hotter than that

:3

WHY. NOT ON THE BLOG TOO. STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM!

nah

Alrighty, well I’m Selene, but you’ll probably recognize the name Creciente de la Noche, that’s my “villain” name. Or you might know La Luna better, people have started calling me that, for some unknown reason.

Probably because it rolls off the tongue better than “Crescent of the night”

You’re trying to tell me that that’s worse than just straight up being called “The Moon”

yes?

Shut the fuck up

Play nice

Fine

Anyways, I’m 16, I’m Jamaican, I’m pan, I have adhd, also ptsd, and I’m an orphan. Well Andrès adopted me so he’s my dad now. No, we are not biological related, That’d be fucked up seeing as I’m 16 and he’s only 28

Here’s something similar to what I look like

You’re prettier than that

He’s right

thank you :3

Hey, I’m Andrés, I’m a semi-retired villain who goes by (tbd). Instead of being full time I only do crime during manic episodes, which are becoming rarer now that my bipolar meds are getting better.

I’m okay with you doing crime as long as it’s only during manic episodes

thank you, mi vida

I’m going to kill myself

NO KILLING YOURSELF

Ahem, anyways, I’m 28, I’m Mexican (he’s Maya but he says Mexican most of the time to avoid being lectured on ancient civilizations), I’m gay, I’m bipolar, I probably have ptsd, I’m blind in my left eye (so if you’re looking at me it’s the one on your right) due to a scar from fighting as a villain, and I am the adopter of Selene.

Here’s kinda what I look like

YOU LOOK LIKE A GYM BRO

SHUT!

lmao

ooc

hey!!!!!!! It’s @daonedaonlyskh and these are some of my original characters from a novel idea of mine!!!!!

if you want me to talk about any of their lore, just ask! I’d love to talk about them ooc with anyone who’s interested!!!

PLEASE BRING YOUR OCS HERE TO INTERACT. IK IM VERY ACTIVE IN THE PJO RP COMMUNITY SO IF YOU WANNA BRING YOUR PJO OCS OVER HERE THATS COOL!!!!! IN FACT I ENCOURAGE IT!!!!!! OR ANY OCS!!!!! OR CANON CHARACTERS OF ANY FANDOM!!!!! IDC I JUST WANT INTERACTIONS!!!!!

I will actively be doing lots and lots of research to accurately represent my characters, since a lot of them are very different from me and anyone I’ve ever known irl. I want to make sure I portray my characters cultures, mental health, neurodivergence, and sexualities properly! If I fuck anything up, please please please tell me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyways this blog will probably touch on dark themes, and I will do my very best to tag any triggers, but just as an fyi, there will probably be dark themes here

ic tags:

J.A.S is here! - all three

Jackson’s here! - Jackson

It’s Selene - Selene

Hey Andrés here - Andrés

ooc tag - mod speaks

All images are from Pinterest and the dividers are from @/isisjupiter here on tumblr!

[mauveberries]

You know what, you're right about it being your opinion, I'm sorry if I offended you. I was just having a bad day 😭 and when I decided to scroll through tomarry tag all I see is your posts dragging harry for no reason and somehow putting Voldemort in this high pedestal while just kicking at harry and that just made me sad— I feel like everyone is entitled to their opinion and that doesn't mean one is more right than the other. At the end of the day this is all fanon and there is not realistic canonical way for this to happen. So, I just wanted to point that out because I have seen you time and time say how one way is just unrealistic but so is your way? Everything in this fandom is unrealistic if we follow the actual canon? Realistically, V is an one dimensional character that fandom has given depth to. So you calling others V unrealistic is funny because they also created something they loved, maybe that's how they envisioned him? So I guess I just wanted to point that out. I hope you have a good day <3

oh, it's alright. i'm not putting voldemort "in a high pedestal," in fact, canon itself puts voldemort in a high pedestal. he is canonically one of the most feared/powerful wizards to have existed, people are afraid to say his name, dumbledore isn't keen on going against him etc.. i'm just expanding it towards tomarrymort, and since voldemort is already such an overwhelming, powerful character in canon, comparing harry to him may seem like i'm dragging harry, which.. i'm not.

"I have seen you time and time say how one way is just unrealistic but so is your way?" i am not saying only my way is realistic. i am saying my way is more realistic than some of the adaptations of him i have seen. you say everything is equally unrealistic when compared to canon and that is not true. there is a source material. if you say all adaptations are equally unrealistic, then there will be no need for a source material. some adaptations are more realistic than others, because they are developed with more traits taken directly from canon. for example:

"voldemort is a cold, unfeeling person, who is prone to negligence towards someone who is his s.o"

vs.

"voldemort is a romantic towards the person he loves"

both are headcanons. one is more realistic than the other. the first statement has plenty of evidence that can be taken from canon: (mass murderer, horcruxes are neglected because they can be easily found as they have been given to people who were untrustworthy, he is unkind to bella despite her loyalty etc.)

the second statement is also a headcanon, but it is less realistic than the first, simply due to the lack of canon evidence.

as much as you want to say voldemort is a one-dimensional character in canon, there is still a lot of info we have from the way he acts. it may seem one-dimensional, and that's because it is. he's just filled with pure evil. he's not gonna have a massive soft spot for someone he 'loves.' it's just like that. he's just like that. you can add to it, but you can't change it. you can't do a 180° turn from canon and expect it to turn out realistic. you can't say he waxes poetry to harry and act like everyone universally agrees with it when it is not at all hinted at in canon that he likes poetry.

yes, people can envision him differently from myself, but that doesn't mean that all depictions are objectively not ooc. some depictions are better than others when compared with canon. it's just how it is. (i'm not dragging anyone when i'm saying this, please understand that.)

hope you have a lovely day <3

[themythicsages]

Greetings from a very sleepy and bored roleplayer.

Hello Tumblr! I hope the night, or day depending on your timezone, has been treating you well. I come to you today looking for new, long-term roleplay partners for a very small percent of the fandoms that I am currently in and fixating over. I am 21+ and I work most afternoons, so more likely than not my responses will come out later in the night. My timezone is est for reference. Given the few fandoms I'm pulling from for this request, I will unfortunately not want to use ocs since I don't have any real OCS for any of these who aren't just ship children and I personally don't like doing oc x canon, save for specific instances like with BG3 and any other instances with canonized self inserts. While my average reply always falls somewhere between literate and advanced literate, with me averaging between 1 - 3 paragraphs per, I have been known to dip into novella when I get insanely motivated. I only roleplay on discord, and while tupperbox is preferred for this it is not required. Also, being queer myself I have always been more drawn to queer ships since they feel more right to me. And just a given but please don't be afraid to geek out with me in ooc. The whole reason I'm searching for a real person and not just going to ch.ai is because I like being able to shoot ideas off of my partners and just be silly in the background. Also don't just assume that yes romance means yes smut. I don't do that as much anymore.

Now that that essay is out of the way, onto the pairs why don't we?

Jujutsu Kaisen

I am unfortunately anime only, but I do know much of what is to come after Shibuya thanks to how heavily spoiled I was on this series even before I knew I wanted to enjoy it. Feel free to correct me if I get something wrong.

Satoru Gojo

SatoSugu (Romantic. The hyperfix is very real with them.)

Nanago (Romantic)

Gojo + Megumi (Strictly platonic, leaning more familial.)

Yuji Itadori

ItaFushi (Romantic)

ItaJun (Romantic)

Yuji + Nanami (Strictly Platonic, leaning more familial.)

Yuji + Choso (Strictly Platonic. Just brothers being brothers.)

Yuji + Todo (Strictly Platonic. Also brothers being brothers, but different.)

Final Fantasy XV

Prompto Argentum

Promptis (Romantic)

Honestly any ship with him works fine I'm just biased LMAO

Ardyn

Versdyn (Romantic)

Aerdyn (Romantic)

Ardyn + Somnus (STRICTLY PLATONIC. Flashback to when they were young and actually cared about each other.)

Final Fantasy VII

Cloud Strife

Zakkura (Romantic or Platonic. Could go either way.)

Clerith (Romantic)

Strifentine (Romantic)

Sefikura (Romantic. Yes I know they're toxic, tell square to stop making them act like a divorced couple and then we'll talk)

Cloud + Yuffie (STRICTLY PLATONIC. The siblings ever.)

Genesis Rhapsodos

GenGeal (Romantic)

SephGen (Romantic)

SephGenGeal (or whatever their poly is lmao) (could be romantic or platonic)

Vincent Valentine

Vincrecia (Romantic)

Valenwind (Romantic)

Strifentine (Romantic)

Vincent + Yuffie (STRICTLY PLATONIC. They give team father/daughter vibes)

Vincent + Young Sephiroth (STRICTLY PLATONIC. He's his father now. Tie them to a Vincrecia family au and my life is literally yours.)

Rufus Shinra

Rutseng/Tsengru (Romantic)

Yuri!!! On Ice

Victor Nikiforov

Victuuri (Romantic. The husbands ever.)

Victor + Yurio (STRICTLY PLATONIC. Could be tied to a family au, perchance, or as an addition to a romantic Victuuri plot to turn it into a full family au.)

Okay so if any of those sound good to you then feel free to like or reply to this post! I look forward to hearing from you guys!

This is Sage, signing out ✌️.

[silveredfeathers]

So am I supposed to put a pinned post up or is it just optional?

Because I'm not sure what to put here but I see a lot of others with one... I live in Alola currently, I'm originally from Kanto, though I see Johto as my home region.

I mean I can put my trainer card post on this to make it easier to find so here's the link to that: LINK

I'm married to @trainerlynda and am dating @timetravelerpyrite.

Note to other Silvers: I AM NOT OLD

I made a website.

//CURRENT ARC: N/A

-----

//Ooc and character info below the cut.

RULES:

- Anon Hate is IC only and I'll delete anything that goes too far.

- Please provide English translations if sending asks with other languages.

- Please don't make me add rules on purpose.

---

Here's a list of ask games you can use if you want to throw an ask at Silver or me:

Headcanons (Writer)

Invasive Questions (Muse)

Pokemon Headcanons (Writer, please say it's for the ask game)

Never Have I Ever (Muse)

TM41: Torment! (Muse)

Memories (OOC Muse, don't send checkmark asks please)

Reporter (Muse, please say it's for the ask game so I can respond the right way.

Evil Team Propaganda can be sent Silv's way.

---

CHARACTER INFO:

I'm going to add more info to this and make it fancy later.

---

Rather specific tags:

#Wormholes Suck - Lore relating to Silver and Touya's past.

#Lore Crumbs & #Vague Lore Crumbs - For the most part, as it says on the tin, the post mentions something that happened before the blog due to my Silver being developed before I made the blog.

#Silver's Asks - Ask posts. This also goes for any tag that has the word asks in it (ie. #Magic Anon Asks).

#Chimera's Curse - Stuff relating to the "official" reveal of Silver being a hybrid to rotumblr.

#Mew out of the bag - [ARC] In which Gio was turned into part Mewtwo. The link is a masterlist of important posts.

#Fool's Faller - [ARC] Silver and Lyn first meet Pyrite in person here!

---

This is a blog meant to represent my version of Silver, which means he strays from canon a little bit... Okay alota bit. This blog may also cover some serious things, but also participates in the general tumblr chaos. He will only be shipped with characters my BF writes, for comfort reasons.

He is 36 years old, his birthday being 12/24/1988, which makes him 11 during the events of the Gold/Silver games. He's married to @trainerlynda and dating @timetravelerpyrite. A bunch of dimension hopping related shenanigans and other such things that have happened to him. He is also transmasc and bi. If, for some reason, you don't like that, please just block me and leave.

He is a hybrid of Ho-oh, Lugia, and Silvally, due to Kenichi's (He is Lynda's halve of the universe's Giovanni's twin brother yes I know that's probably confusing-) scientists messing with him.

Silver's Boxes (Pokemon List)

Artwork with this Silver in it:

His current pfp, drawn by me

Reference sheet, drawn by me

In between form and concept drawing of the full form drawn by me

Silver and Puppy, drawn by @/yewwantstobattle

Silver helping his wife calm down after some shit happened, drawn by me

-----

WRITER INFO:

I am 21 and am kinda new here. Please let me know in private if I end up talking to someone bad, I likely genuinely didn't know since that info is scattered pretty much everywhere.

Follows and likes are from @zoranaroleplayhub and sometimes @messyzoranablog. Asks are primarily in anon.

Any art that I post will be credited accordingly. If it is not labeled, then it's my own work or official.

-----

OTHER THINGS:

Ho-oh and Lugia Feather Properties - A headcanon post about the abilities different feathers Lugia and Ho-oh have, since the Silver and Rainbow Wings have their own special thing going on with them. It's in the format of old explorer journal pages. These headcanons will sometimes be referenced by Silver and are here for ease of finding.

[penandswords]

SHIPPING INFO // ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG. [Rima.]

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER(S)?

I am a BIG fan of ships with mirroring pasts. 2 muses with similar pasts, but with VERY different outcomes. (It is one of my favorite thigns in writing <3) Example Hawks x Rima - They were both saved by Endeavor, but the route they take in the aftermath is a little different. Or Dabi x Rima - Raised in a not great way with bad familys, but VERY conflicting views on Endeavor. Also Rima doesn't like it but I Love The Hate ship she has going with Kaiba (she can't stand him.) but having relationships where people don't get along can be fun <3

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

As long as it is 2 consenting adults, I'm all good. I love exploring all kinds of situations. (I feel like it challenges me as a writer which is fun)

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

Not Really~ All it takes is a conversation, and batting ideas back and forth. (For me the biggest thing is to just talk to me) I am way more likely to ship with someone if they are good at communicating OOC.

WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

@bearratic (Hawks ) @heroic-endeavors ( Hawks ) @frogsonalotusleaf (Hawks and Night eye. Kaiba) (Oh good Lord there are a lot of hawks... -shrug-) @darkenedpunk061 (Piers), @inmensapotentia (Shunsui and Ukitake <3) @pocket-sized-lawyer (Jun) and @secondchxnceduelists (Jabari ) - Lets be honest there are probably others but I just woke up.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

I accept flirting, but for actual ships I need some form of communication. So yes. Ask first. (It helps me figure out how to go about things) I'm the kind of writer that really ENJOYS talking about dynamics, and seeing what we can work with. Even if its a canon muse I write with multiples of. (No 2 people write the same canon muse in the same way. And I LOVE exploring the differences. From different writing styles to DIFFERENT interpretations. THAT is what makes rp fun.) So please TALK to me. (the worst you might get is a ton of questions cus I like to world build like that)

ARE YOU SHIP-OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

For me it REALLY depends on the muse. With Rima she is very easy to ship with for the most part. (I think theres only been like ONE person she's out right said no to. -looking at you kaiba- ) Just talk to me, I promise I don't bite.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

End/Hawks (and I giggle since Rima is a hawks simp, but Hawks is an Endeavor simp.)

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

Dm me, come say hello, TALK to me. Communication outside of threads is VERY important to me. IF you want ot ship with me, talk to me.

Tagged by: @bearratic

Tagging: Anyone who see's this and WANTS too.

[sofoulandfairaday]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE your hc posts, do you have any for Our Lord (Voldemort) and Saviour?

I don't know who you are, so I cannot give you credit, but Our Lord Voldemort and Saviour is not only now mineTM but also the title of a future fic. I will make it the title of a future fic. It's possibly the best thing I've ever heard.

A bit of a kleptomaniac (I think this is canon, actually). He wills himself to stop, but the urge to take take take still remains strong in him. He steals at Wools, he steals at Hogwarts from the purses of boys too rich to notice, he steals ancient artefacts around the world in his travels, he steals other people's wives (yes, yours, Rod).

He wasn't well-liked initially at Hogwarts (poor mudbloods usually aren't) and graduated as the most popular boy in Slytherin. He managed to master the perfect, intoxicating, charismatic personality that allowed him to rule his first followers by both fear and love; he would shed the latter when he switched to Death Eaters.

Inferiority Complex the size of the sun (this is also canon); the same can be said for his Superiority Complex.

He doesn't really believe in pureblood superiority. Of course, he despises Muggles and Mudbloods, but he doesn't do it for blood, he does what he does for power. Anyone who says differently fundamentally misunderstands his character. There is no one in his life he doesn't see as a tool or a pawn. He is fond of people but it will never be unconditional. This is also a dealbreaker in reading about him: when he does something that goes against his best interests for someone else it immediately screams OOC.

Following this point, my headcanon is that he murdered most of his former classmates. They all die suspiciously young, and the closer they were to him, the earlier they were offed. This is what happened to Rodolphus and Rabastan's father (they were none the wiser), Evan Rosier's uncle (he wasn't either), Orion Black (who already had one foot in the grave after Reggie's death) and many many more.

The wizard closest to him in his later years (the beginning of the First Wizarding War) and right-hand man was Antonin Dolohov, the only one who was there for part of his travels and who he met in Eastern Europe. He was already Lord Voldemort then.

This title was later snatched by Bellatrix Black Lestrange, the only true Dark Arts protégée he ever had.

However, he did enjoy teaching. He had various pupils, during the years, to whom he taught something of his own. Especially during the last years of the First War, he grew close to his younger recruits. Whereas his old classmates could never fully unsee the Tom Riddle behind Lord Voldemort, his younger Death Eaters (Severus Snape, Barty Crouch) were desperate for his approval, fierce, and brilliant. (The same qualities he had found in Bellatrix some years prior.) This is why they became his favourites. People who, like him, were hungry and misunderstood and had a rawness that his pampered, aristocratic “friends” had never possessed.

Where did he go during his travels? Where didn't he go during his travels. Anything written by @ meanwhiletimely's Vagaries and Vagrants is canon to me, but also: Italy, Egypt, Russia, Greece, Persia, Germany, and many more. He wreaked havoc everywhere (I have a cute little story in the works). He fled before they could get to him, but he is effectively banned from a dozen countries.

I, for one, am not a believer in the Lestranges' divorce in a hypothetical Voldemort!wins AU. He wouldn't marry Bellatrix ever, he also wouldn't want her to divorce Rodolphus, because having Madame Lestrange is far more appealing to him than having Miss Black. With the former, he is taking away what is someone else's. It's just better that way.

Is he straight, gay, bi? Ace? I used to see him as ace, actually. But then someone pointed out to me this enlightening quote: “Everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” And I thought bingo. So I would say bi, leaning towards women, because he was raised in a Muggle possibly Christian orphanage in the 1930s. Homosexuality only became legal in the UK in 1967. But he would do anything and I mean anything to get what he wants, so... He's def done it before.

Also: Religious Trauma. Was definitely dragged kicking and screaming to a priest for an exorcism, maybe more than once.

Alphard Black liked him, then was turned off by the fact that he was very clearly EvilTM. Also, he did have sex with his cousin Lucretia or, as Walburga put it, defiled her with his Halfblood touch.

Very Thin. Also, less and less attractive every year. He used to look like a Greek god pre-Horcrux, but I don't see him wanting to be that at forty. He's vain, but not in that sense. He hates his Muggle father's Muggle face. Also covered in scars (some from the physical punishments at the orphanage, some from his experiments with dark magic). Actually carless with his body, which is only a mere vessel for the soul anyway.

This is getting a little long, and I do have an exam tomorrow so I'll leave it at that, but I will probably do a part 2. Now that I'm re-reading it is all sounds pretty vague.

[anonymousdanganronpaconfessions]

In my opinion, if people do have a view of a character that’s different from canon (more ooc but also just generally different from canon), it’s fine, however they have to understand that that isn’t how the character behaves or is like. For example, i like the idea that junko wasn’t always like that and due to certain circumstances got to the point she is, however I know that that likely isn’t the case and she is just like that, for example, one way this isn’t the case is that she has to have her entire memory wiped to not be like she is in the game, plus she was never intended to be a villain with a sad backstory or anything.

One example, I believe is people misinterpreting the characters to a point where, yes, currently in present time it isn’t very good, but you do have to keep in mind that it was made in a time where these things weren’t as common or to keep in mind how the games themes are. I saw a post once, which admittedly was from dangan tiktok (which doesn’t tend to have good takes on characters) which basically said that Mondo was a horrible man who you shouldn’t want to like because he was sexist and punched makoto because he wanted them to stop fighting. With the sexism, yes, he does treat woman differently because he believes they’re weak, but also somewhat as a sign of respecting them. Obviously, his views aren’t right, but also, keep in mind that in the 2000s, when the first game would’ve been made, there was quite a lot of misogyny, and thus , unfortunately, it would likely be more common around the time. And there is more to him punching Makoto then just ‘oh, he’s upset because he tried to stop him from fighting byakuya!!’. Mondo is shown to have anger issues, anger issues which likely stem from the guilt of getting daiya killed, and regrets it. obviously, he probably did have anger issues before daiya died, but I think that he might’ve worsened after daiya died. This is one of the times his anger issues is shown, when he punches makoto. Another time it’s shown is when he, you know, kills chihiro. He is shown to genuinely be remorseful of his actions and guilty of the fact, so you can’t just pin it down to ‘oh, he’s upset makoto tried to stop him!’ when it isn’t just that.

Another example that I’m not particularly sure on is how some people view characters like kokichi and shuichi. I think with pre-game, the fandom does tend to amplify everything to a bigger extreme than it likely is, though that being said, it is possible that they could act like that, though again sometimes they are a bit ooc and because the idea is so widespread in the fandom, I do think it is believed to be canon. I’m probably wrong, so sorry if I am, and feel free to correct me, I may have also accidentally completely switched topics with the last two examples, so I’m really sorry if that’s the case. ^^

.

[dilucofdawn]

Blog Intro:

- This blog is for my OC x Canon Universe, AUs may be introduced at somepoint, and will be under #au you can ask messages to the AU, but please specify. I use my own headcanons here and my version of Diluc, it may vary from what you wish/want/or perceive as canon. I wouldn't say my version necessarily but just, "my writings/written Diluc" / "how I write Diluc"

-Diluc will respond as the OC x Canon Universe version regardless of the ask, although unless Lily is mentioned, there really isn't any need to specify this.

-This blog skips around in the timeline often, if you wish to ask a question to a certain part of time,please specify

-You can ask romantic questions, it will be tagged as #noncanon since it is.. not canon to any universe I have. Honestly if you want to do this just ask me to roleplay with you in dms, its easier and more fun for me, I prefer writing vs simply replying in character though. Lit Roleplays they are called right? >< Minors please do not ask direct romantic questions, general things as "what is your dream date" are fine but I don't want to write any romance for a minor.

- I have not run a blog like this before, be aware of that

- the in universe explantation for this blog is that lady beatrice gave everyone a book and they write and receive questions and no one else can read the book..or .. simply it doesnt matter. Basically Diluc is aware of the universe he is receiving questions from is a paraell of 'Lilys Original Universe' (think that book from sunset to twilight in equestria girls.. that was the main inspo)

-This takes place in a world without lumine and aether, I'm sure theres plot holes with that, but it isn't serious enough to fill them. I do have an AU with Lily with the traveler but I don't talk about it much. Lily is suppose to take the role of the traveler I suppose. Does she look like lumine? I hate to tell you but one of the multiple names I was given was Lily (complicated on how I have three names) and I happen to be blonde and decided to cut my hair short a few years ago before genshin. Am I secretly Lumine? Feel free to speculate.

- Questions can be sent for Kaeya, Claret, Lily and other ocs if I ever add any more (specify or it default's to diluc)

-You or you're ocs can reply, if its an oc, please specify for me

-Lily is literally just me, but as a written (fictionalized) version of me that is in Teyvat, there are differences since.. she is an alternate me essentially. Although what she says does not correlate to me always. If Lily is rude to you/your oc it doesn't mean I am. I think writing an Isekaied version of myself and the problems/dynamics it has is super fun and interesting. Lily has a third person perspective on Teyvat and knows more about it, due to being a 'reader' Diluc meanwhile lives in it. Also Genshin is simply referred to as /the story/ since it gets too idk I just like it like that lol

- I do full literate roleplays in DMs Only, I have the right to decline, say I'm too busy etc (although.. this is rare for me) I can do OC's or as previously mentioned. I find it super weird to have anyone share my writing where anyone could see the roleplay/full roleplay. I do prefer to roleplay on discord if its a full literate roleplay.

- do not be scarred to talk to me PLEASE.. i am begging for people to interact with 😭

-NO NSFW, I do not mind jokes but I keep that strictly to my friends (my mutuals are friends) if we are friends just talk about that casually with me lol

- Proship (yes that includes k/eluc) do not interact, I am adopted myself, my partner is chinese, we know Kaeya is adopted. Please leave me alone and stop making weird comments about my family origin and adoption as a whole. I will block you. If you're blocked on my main blog, I'm not going to respond to you here either. Didn't read all this? PROSHIP DNI

-important tags include (will update as needed):

#diluc #kaeya #claret #lily #beatrice #character intro #au #noncanon #ooc #ask #bloginfo #dilucsdiary #timeline

Tags are in the bottom of this post for easily finding it

Diluc's Intro: