onethousandtwilights

[onethousandtwilights]

good vibes only

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

[onethousandtwilights]

I keep running on arranged marriage varadeva because lovers to husbands? amazing indeed but husbands to lovers? gorgeous and delicious

[onethousandtwilights]

arranged marriage au varadeva and in a nutshell it's basically them putting up the greatest act of love in front of family members

[onethousandtwilights]

varadeva

sorry i said gay when you and your buddy had a massive falling out and tried to kill each other. it just kinda looked like that.

[onethousandtwilights]

dark!deva who decides the only way to not part ways once again with Varadha is to take him away

[onethousandtwilights]

I've been thinking of writing a royalty varadeva fic, and while I do have a loosely thought of prompt, I am open to suggestions, prompts or specific visions, so please free to let me know :<

[onethousandtwilights]

(nsfw)

would be a bit funny if there was a/b/o varadeva and the trope was baby trapping

[onethousandtwilights]

married varadeva in this marriage of convenience and tell each other 'no I don't love you I just respect you because this is a mutually beneficial arrangement' but at the slightest bit of disrespect they'd make the rivers run in blood for each other

[onethousandtwilights]

I am not able to dm you but oh boy I do have a lot to say about the parallels and no!! I've seen a lot of users it feels like it was meant to be!

krishna x arjun.

(it's just a random piece now, might put it together properly on A03 depending on the response. >.<)

the time had come. krishna knew, just like he knew when would another soul in this land would grace it's demise. more often than not, he would be the one to put them to eternal peace.

he just wished— wished that he wouldn't have to go like this. all alone, without his parth by his side, cradling his face in his delicate yet such sturdy hands.

fingers that have brushed against his own, hands that have dressed his wounds, on the rare occasions that he would have them. hands that have fed him. palms that have grazed against his cheek, hugged him close. those hands that put him at peace.

human sentiments were rather hard to let go of. and the most purest, innocent of them all — his love. he couldn't help it, not really. not when his parth would be woken up by his feet brushing against krishna's sleeping form, sleep soft and confused.

rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, he would shake awake krishna, unaware that he woke up minutes before his beloved did.

“what are you doing here madhav?” he would ask, eyes wide and innocent, voice still husked and cracky.

“nothing, parth.” he would flash his smile, the one only meant for arjuna. the ache in his palms said otherwise, but he would fall asleep massaging his beloved's feet till the ends of time itself, only if it meant that arjuna would fall asleep peacefully.

love, krishna found, laid in arjuna's sparkling, mischievous eyes. peace, was in his hands, running through krishna's curly locks, tugging apart his knots and soothing his groan of pain. calmness, was in his stature, always steady, reliable. a constant presence by his side, if not physically then in his thoughts.

he just wished he could relive it one last time before he goes.

but, sometimes, the universe doesn't grant wishes. not even his. he, who is narayan.

-

the moment arjun felt the ground beneath his feet slip— his heart trembled in a way he had only felt when he had been near his own death by the hands of his own son.

falling to his feet, he stared at his trembling hands, dirt clinging onto his fingernails, ants scattered around, traveling up his wrists.

something was terribly wrong. his heart squeezed painfully, another rush of blood that left him hearing his heartbeat in his own ear.

“krishna.”

he called, desperate. in his mind first, frantic— waiting for the familiar calmness to wash over his doubts and worries whenever he took his name.

he waited, eyes blurring as his panic grew. he tried again, his voice cracking — nothing happened.

and that's when he knew.

he had left. left without telling arjun, left without taking arjun with him. left arjun, his parth, all alone in this cruel, cold world.

when arjun glanced upwards, into the darkened clouds, he felt something wet drop onto him. seconds later, rain drenched him wet— furious and unrelenting, pattering against the ground.

when he led his horse towards dwarka, an urgency cursing through his veins— that is when he knew— knew that what little of powers he had, were gone too.

he glanced at his hands, trembling as they struggled to lead his horse. the horse he had been trained to ride ever since he had been able to say his own name.

he tightened his hold on the horses, white-knuckled as he willed for it to run faster— he needed to perform his duties. duties that krishna had bestowed upon him.

he went forward, even when all that he wanted to do was to run in the opposite direction — find a way that would guide him to madhav, his madhav.

the thought of leading a life without his presence felt as if hell had rained upon him. he couldn't survive here much longer— even if it was krishna himself who asked him to do so.

-

part 2.

[onethousandtwilights]

salaar writers being krishna arjuna truthers is so heartwarming considering the parallels oh m god

krishna x arjun.

(it's just a random piece now, might put it together properly on A03 depending on the response. >.<)

the time had come. krishna knew, just like he knew when would another soul in this land would grace it's demise. more often than not, he would be the one to put them to eternal peace.

he just wished— wished that he wouldn't have to go like this. all alone, without his parth by his side, cradling his face in his delicate yet such sturdy hands.

fingers that have brushed against his own, hands that have dressed his wounds, on the rare occasions that he would have them. hands that have fed him. palms that have grazed against his cheek, hugged him close. those hands that put him at peace.

human sentiments were rather hard to let go of. and the most purest, innocent of them all — his love. he couldn't help it, not really. not when his parth would be woken up by his feet brushing against krishna's sleeping form, sleep soft and confused.

rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, he would shake awake krishna, unaware that he woke up minutes before his beloved did.

“what are you doing here madhav?” he would ask, eyes wide and innocent, voice still husked and cracky.

“nothing, parth.” he would flash his smile, the one only meant for arjuna. the ache in his palms said otherwise, but he would fall asleep massaging his beloved's feet till the ends of time itself, only if it meant that arjuna would fall asleep peacefully.

love, krishna found, laid in arjuna's sparkling, mischievous eyes. peace, was in his hands, running through krishna's curly locks, tugging apart his knots and soothing his groan of pain. calmness, was in his stature, always steady, reliable. a constant presence by his side, if not physically then in his thoughts.

he just wished he could relive it one last time before he goes.

but, sometimes, the universe doesn't grant wishes. not even his. he, who is narayan.

-

the moment arjun felt the ground beneath his feet slip— his heart trembled in a way he had only felt when he had been near his own death by the hands of his own son.

falling to his feet, he stared at his trembling hands, dirt clinging onto his fingernails, ants scattered around, traveling up his wrists.

something was terribly wrong. his heart squeezed painfully, another rush of blood that left him hearing his heartbeat in his own ear.

“krishna.”

he called, desperate. in his mind first, frantic— waiting for the familiar calmness to wash over his doubts and worries whenever he took his name.

he waited, eyes blurring as his panic grew. he tried again, his voice cracking — nothing happened.

and that's when he knew.

he had left. left without telling arjun, left without taking arjun with him. left arjun, his parth, all alone in this cruel, cold world.

when arjun glanced upwards, into the darkened clouds, he felt something wet drop onto him. seconds later, rain drenched him wet— furious and unrelenting, pattering against the ground.

when he led his horse towards dwarka, an urgency cursing through his veins— that is when he knew— knew that what little of powers he had, were gone too.

he glanced at his hands, trembling as they struggled to lead his horse. the horse he had been trained to ride ever since he had been able to say his own name.

he tightened his hold on the horses, white-knuckled as he willed for it to run faster— he needed to perform his duties. duties that krishna had bestowed upon him.

he went forward, even when all that he wanted to do was to run in the opposite direction — find a way that would guide him to madhav, his madhav.

the thought of leading a life without his presence felt as if hell had rained upon him. he couldn't survive here much longer— even if it was krishna himself who asked him to do so.

-

part 2.

[onethousandtwilights]

OH MY GOD

krishna x arjun.

(it's just a random piece now, might put it together properly on A03 depending on the response. >.<)

the time had come. krishna knew, just like he knew when would another soul in this land would grace it's demise. more often than not, he would be the one to put them to eternal peace.

he just wished— wished that he wouldn't have to go like this. all alone, without his parth by his side, cradling his face in his delicate yet such sturdy hands.

fingers that have brushed against his own, hands that have dressed his wounds, on the rare occasions that he would have them. hands that have fed him. palms that have grazed against his cheek, hugged him close. those hands that put him at peace.

human sentiments were rather hard to let go of. and the most purest, innocent of them all — his love. he couldn't help it, not really. not when his parth would be woken up by his feet brushing against krishna's sleeping form, sleep soft and confused.

rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, he would shake awake krishna, unaware that he woke up minutes before his beloved did.

“what are you doing here madhav?” he would ask, eyes wide and innocent, voice still husked and cracky.

“nothing, parth.” he would flash his smile, the one only meant for arjuna. the ache in his palms said otherwise, but he would fall asleep massaging his beloved's feet till the ends of time itself, only if it meant that arjuna would fall asleep peacefully.

love, krishna found, laid in arjuna's sparkling, mischievous eyes. peace, was in his hands, running through krishna's curly locks, tugging apart his knots and soothing his groan of pain. calmness, was in his stature, always steady, reliable. a constant presence by his side, if not physically then in his thoughts.

he just wished he could relive it one last time before he goes.

but, sometimes, the universe doesn't grant wishes. not even his. he, who is narayan.

-

the moment arjun felt the ground beneath his feet slip— his heart trembled in a way he had only felt when he had been near his own death by the hands of his own son.

falling to his feet, he stared at his trembling hands, dirt clinging onto his fingernails, ants scattered around, traveling up his wrists.

something was terribly wrong. his heart squeezed painfully, another rush of blood that left him hearing his heartbeat in his own ear.

“krishna.”

he called, desperate. in his mind first, frantic— waiting for the familiar calmness to wash over his doubts and worries whenever he took his name.

he waited, eyes blurring as his panic grew. he tried again, his voice cracking — nothing happened.

and that's when he knew.

he had left. left without telling arjun, left without taking arjun with him. left arjun, his parth, all alone in this cruel, cold world.

when arjun glanced upwards, into the darkened clouds, he felt something wet drop onto him. seconds later, rain drenched him wet— furious and unrelenting, pattering against the ground.

when he led his horse towards dwarka, an urgency cursing through his veins— that is when he knew— knew that what little of powers he had, were gone too.

he glanced at his hands, trembling as they struggled to lead his horse. the horse he had been trained to ride ever since he had been able to say his own name.

he tightened his hold on the horses, white-knuckled as he willed for it to run faster— he needed to perform his duties. duties that krishna had bestowed upon him.

he went forward, even when all that he wanted to do was to run in the opposite direction — find a way that would guide him to madhav, his madhav.

the thought of leading a life without his presence felt as if hell had rained upon him. he couldn't survive here much longer— even if it was krishna himself who asked him to do so.

-

part 2.

[onethousandtwilights]

folks this with varadha and deva because that is absolutely something deva would say

[onethousandtwilights]

been so long since I have been here, and I've been thinking of a full-blown royalty au (prompts welcomed!). Fated soulmates from enemy tribe? works. Arranged marriage for political benefit? works. enemies to lovers? works. childhood friends to lovers? works. I am supposed to marry your sibling but I'd rather marry you instead? works. royalty x guard? works. royalty x commoner? works. royalty x revolter? works. accidental marriage? works. everything works

[onethousandtwilights]

Deva's devotion is very overwhelming, in the sense even as a viewer you cannot watch this film and ever bother to think that Deva doesn't love him because he always will--then, now and forever.

he almost aches in every frame, it's like having the person you are devoted to right in front of you but you have to be at arm's length, it is this all-consuming love I cannot stop thinking about, but again imagine being deva, imagine being someone who has been the receiving end of varadha's affection, his sacrifice.

we talk about the meeting after 25 years, how deva is now taller, seems bigger and everything. Deva notices varadha's scars but he also notice the beauty beneath it, like, at this point I don't know what I am saying but it is essentially that varadha is so easy to love so easy to worship and not once do you even have to think'why is he doing that' because let us be frank if we were him if we had varadha in front of us we would do the same

[onethousandtwilights]

(warning: smut discussion :<)

Deva has a voice kink and Varadha has a strength kink. It just fits them 😭, Deva likes the way Varadha calls his name and it is the best when he is nearing orgasm and Varadha is a big fan of muscles like you cannot tell me he did not realize how big Deva's arms was.

unhealthy coping mechanism and it is sex it just fixes everything between them and maybe Varadha likes to be manhandled okay he definitely likes to be manhandled and definitely includes wall sex.

I think someone said Deva is a service top and yes he definitely is, and he is definitely also a tease and enjoy to dirty talk and likes to rile Varadha up (the banter/fight)

[onethousandtwilights]

hey :< I am new to the fandom and recently watched the film! really loved it and I ship varadeva with my life. Would love to talk to more people about them so please do dm me! and is there anyone writing fics at the moment