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waltzingwithyourenemyattheball · 1 year

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PICK A CARD: MESSAGES FROM MAHADEVI (CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE)

Top Left: 111 ; Top Right: 222; Bottom: 333

Disclaimer:

This is a general reading take what resonates and leave the rest

No one is allowed to copy my work under any circumstances

DM for a personal tarot reading

All personal readings are paid.

HAPPY RADHA ASTHAMI 🤍♥️🤍

🌸111🌸

Be grateful for all that you have. Be grateful for all that you have been blessed with. You may think you lack, but the truth says otherwise. You have the warmth of the sun, coolness of the moon, you have water to drink, you have food to eat, you can walk among beautiful scenery. You have all that you need, so don’t look for more. If you have a guitar, play a song instead of dreaming about building a boat. You have all that you need and more. Be creative, once you start focusing on what all you do have, you’ll feel much richer. I am hearing you should spend time with your mother, help her in her work, be sweet not rude, it will go against you. Walking in nature barefoot will bring you tremendous results, especially if you are having troubles with rahu or shani. If you are taking sone sort of therapy /any healing sessions it will be successful, in 3 months you’ll notice a difference. Give service to cows and animals in general, this good karma will bring you recognition and even fame for some of you. Some of you need to cut your hair, even just a little bit to let go of the energy. Others need to start sadhana and grow their hair out. REGARDLESS take good care of your hair, it’s important. Keep it braided if you need to conserve energy. Wear more orange and red, and don’t let a day go by without writing how you felt today, why you felt that way, and end it with a gratitude list. Not just you, I am seeing your entire family successful, if you have been considering a family business or have one, this is a good sign. Comment ‘Mahadevi’ to Claim! 🌙 DM TO BOOK A TAROT READING 🌙 🌻 Thank you for letting me read for you 🌻

🌑222🌑

Okay so listen, you know you have a choice, you have the choice to speak up your idea in the meeting, you have the choice to say ‘No’. You always have a choice. You are not tied down by chains, you are not tied down at all except by your mind. No cages exist outside your mind. It is your greatest friend and has the ability to be your greatest enemy too. How do you want it to serve you? That’s again a choice. Make the right one. Choose freedom. Choose expression. Don’t let others walk over you, tell them you have plans and you can’t help them today, its okay. HAVE THE COURAGE TO ASK FOR WHAT YOU WANT. If you never ask, you’ll never know. You think you don’t have much to offer so you become the person who doesn’t need anything, and that not doing anyone any good. DEMAND YOUR RIGHTS. Ask for what you want. You want your partner to come watch you play violin? ask him, have the courage. You are a lion then why do you pretend to be a sheep. You could be born in the year of the horse as well. Some of you are lion yoni. Behave like yourself, the more you astray, the more depressed you feel. You want adrenaline, and you are scared of the same. Trust me, if you let loose you won’t run wild and return home safe. You are somewhat terrified of what could happen if you let yourself be, since you’ve never been, you can’t comprehend and with the fear of uncertainty, so you are always on edge, to say what you actually want to but never do and they are out the door. Other have a pre-conceived notion of you that you want to keep, honey its not healthy you have to let that go before it swallows you complete. Your fire has been watered down, its time to bring it back. Comment ‘Mahadevi’ to Claim! 🌙 DM TO BOOK A TAROT READING 🌙

🥀333🥀 If you have been seeing a humming bird, or after reading this if you see one, don’t be surprised. They are a sign that you are taking everything too seriously, even things that shouldn’t be taken that way, you have forgotten to stop and smell the roses. It seems like you are someone who has a responsibilities on their shoulders, and you just can’t seem to relax. Between all things mundane, you have forgotten to keep track of your soul’s purpose. Many of you don’t know why you are here. You world is limited to the material realm. You are being told to take time out for honoring your soul’s purpose. One of them is ‘Joy’. You are not here to be in a low or neutral emotional state, you are hear to feel joy and spread joy. It could come from any number of things, from just taking a day off or making time for your hobbies or laughing your ass off. You are here to be curious and be filled with wonder and awe. All these responsibilities are making you anxious, you can’t sleep, you can’t eat, and all you do is think all the time, about business and about family and that’s all your life is, you aren’t even in there. I am not saying you shouldn’t focus here, you should these are key areas of life but take a step back, take some time for yourself. HEVAY BURN OUT ENERGY. This isn’t even burn out, you are toasted and done, most of this is coming from the fact that most of your day you do things put of compulsion, you don’t want to do them, but you do. Figure out how to honor your soul’s purpose, and find joy in things or simply do what brings you joy. There is work that need to be done within the family dynamic as well. One step at a time and step starts with you. Comment ‘Mahadevi’ to claim! 🌙DM to find your Soul’s Mission🌙

- EL TAROT

#pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pac tarot #free tarot #pick a card #ask response #channeled reading #channeled message #kaali #padma lakshmi #mahadevi #hindu #krishna

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heaven444child · 4 months

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Message from lord Radhakrishna 💌❣️

Pick an image

which pile drawn your attention choose it and please take what resonates with you and leave the rest ✨🍀🫶💜

Pile 1

Pile 1 Lord Krishna is saying that you don't need to be too emotional💜 Lord Krishna is telling you that child, control your emotions a little... don't get influenced by anyone's words🥹 My child, you should have faith in yourself and your decision❤️ no matter what anyone says to you✨🍀 You don't need to doubt yourself♥️ You have everything you need to move forward💫. You can create magic in your life yourself🦄 or get everything you expect💕☄️ If you had any question in your mind, I can't tell you the answer right now because Krishna will answer your question at the right time🎀 Don't be disappointed, there is going to be celebration or happiness in your life🫶🌸 because Lord Krishna is with all of us🦋🦚

(I hope this pile resonates with you)

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Pile 2

Pile 2 Lord Shri Krishna and Radha Maa want to tell you that whatever stuckness or confusion is going on in your life about something, you will soon come out of that situation. Any balance is going to come in your life. If you are seeing 111 angel number, then through which number Lord Shri Krishna and Radha Ma are telling you to focus on what you want to achieve in your life ☄️ because those things will manifest in your life soon. The time has come for the fulfillment of whatever hope or wish you have. And Lord Shri Krishna and Radha Ma also want to tell you that if you were facing any financial problem in your life, then that is going to end now and God wants to tell you that My children, now it is time to take action. Come out of your comfort zone and treat the people around you the way you would want everyone to treat you. You are being asked to teach selfless love. Many of you have come to teach or tell love to others on earth. You are being told to always support the truth. Lord Shri Krishna and Radha Maa are blessing you to move ahead in your life.

(I hope this pile resonates with you)

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Pile 3

Pile 3 Lord Shri Krishna and Radha ma want to tell you that child why are you ignoring your gut/intuition 👀 If you are confused about something then you are being asked to meditate and take some decisions only after taking advice from elders and after that whatever final decision you take, that decision will bring blessings in your life 🌸 You will be seen as supported and a winner in your life 🍀 And if there are some things in your life that you are now serving, then you are being asked to leave those responsibilities behind and move ahead 💜🛤️ Lord Shri Krishna and Radha maa are saying that my child, you are not alone because I am always with you child ☺️Just close your eyes and feel me inside you child 🫶❤️We are always with you in your every decision in🫶🦋

(I hope this pile resonates with you)

……………………………………………………….

Stay blessed 🍀✨AND thank you for your support🫶❤️

#pick a card reading #pick a pile #tarot deck #tarot reading #masterlist #message #lordkrishna #Radhakrishna

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rambheem-is-real · 7 months

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Gold Rings and Black Roses Pt 3

pt 2 here

pairing: Radha Rama x Aadhya

The next day Aadhya wakes, frowning at the amount of sunlight casting rays across her bed. Had they let her sleep in? What time was it?

There are faint tears on her face that she brushes away, remembering her dream. Her mother’s death feels so long ago, and yet almost like it happened yesterday. Aadhya wonders what her mom would’ve thought about the situation she was in now, risking her life to save her dad. She wonders what her mom would’ve thought about Radha Rama.

She frowns, remembering the other parts of the dream. The details are fuzzy, but she remembers Obullamma taking a knife to her face. Aadhya resolves to avoid Obullamma as best as she can for the rest of her stay here as she walks into the bathroom and starts to brush her teeth.

Radha Rama had said she was going to send Vedha to talk to Deva, how long would that take? A few days? She couldn’t just call him or something?

And speaking of Deva…

The familiar bitterness creeps up inside her as she thinks of the man. It wasn’t like she was some damsel in distress that needed to be saved from thugs like in those Indian movies she watched growing up. She didn’t want anyone to start a war for her sake. But, when Bilal hyped Deva up so much, that he was so powerful she would be safe with him, Aadhya had been expecting much more.

What exactly she had been expecting, Aadhya didn’t know, but it certainly wasn’t some mama’s boy. She thinks back to how quiet he was, how hollowed out his presence felt, especially in front of his mother. Radha Rama had mentioned Deva’s lover. Who were they? Was it a bad breakup? Was that why Deva was still living with his mom?

And speaking of his mom, what had happened to her to make her so paranoid, so toxic? She hadn’t even cared for the safety of the kids as the fire started, so preoccupied over a plastic knife?

She sighs as she rinses her mouth out, pressing the towel to her face.

What kind of fucked up family was this? Aadhya has never been more glad to be adopted. Even if she and her dad had a rocky relationship, at least she had the confidence that her dad would be there for her. She didn’t have even that for Deva, and much less for Amma.

Aadhya turns the shower on, and takes her clothes off as she thinks.

Even though Radha Rama had told her a lot yesterday, it felt like she had even more questions. What was a karta? Was the woman from a royal family? Was Deva’s lover from Radha Rama’s place as well? Did the people there know her dad, and was that why they had to move? Was Radha Rama’s husband still alive?

Aadhya winces at the last thought, and turns the knob down to make the water run cold. Shut up, she tells her brain, and gets into the shower.

It’s definitely midday by the time she makes it out of her room, now dressed in a periwinkle churidar set someone had put in her closet. She frowns as she realizes the churidar today and the set of clothes yesterday fit perfectly. When the fuck did they get my measurements??

She resolves to ask about it, and starts roaming around the place. Initially, she tries to find Radha Rama, but when the servants hardly glance at her walking around, she decides to explore the place instead.

It feels like one of those guest houses she sees in movies, but slightly more shabby. Aadhya thinks back to Radha Rama telling her she had spent seven years pretending she was insane, and the fact that there’s already more people bustling around here today than there were yesterday. Most of the rooms she walks into are empty, with no traces of life, but she still tries all of the doors. Not like she had anything better to do, anyway. She finds one room full of taxidermied animals, that she immediately closes the door on. She won’t let this place give her any more nightmares, thank you very much. Another room has decorative weapons hung up on the walls. Or at least, she assumes they’re decorative, it would probably have more security if they weren’t decorative. Or maybe they think she’s incapable of firing a gun. Aadhya frowns at that realization. While it’s true that she hasn’t ever held a weapon in her life, she thinks it wouldn’t be too hard to fire a gun. Just pull the trigger, right? She then remembers that Hollywood movie she saw where the old woman nearly killed herself with the recoil of the shotgun she was holding, and resolves to never be in that situation, actually.

It’s about an hour later that Aadhya finds a room full of silver jewelry that seem to have been hastily stuffed into the chests on the floor, and enjoys trying on some ornate pieces. Radha Rama was definitely royalty, she thinks to herself as she puts on a nose ring with silver lotuses carved onto it.

She smiles at herself in the mirror, thinking that she might get a piercing someday, when she sees the kajal lined eyes staring at her from the doorway. Aadhya yelps and turns around to see Radha Rama smirking at her, leaning on the doorframe.

Oh shit.

“I’m so sorry,” Aadhya immediately starts in English. “These are probably yours, I just walked in and they looked pretty so I had to try them on-”

Radha Rama doesn’t look upset, though, just more amused as Aadhya keeps up the word vomit.

“-I’ve always wanted a piercing actually, is this nose ring yours? It looks really cool…” Aadhya trails off as something occurs to her. “Do.. do you understand me? Can you speak English?” She switches languages. “Should I speak in Telugu?”

Radha Rama scoffs. “Who do you take me for?” she says, in a crisp Indian English accent. “I grew up learning all of the major languages of the world from my tutors.” She lifts her head high. “A karta should be able to communicate with all of the other world leaders.”

“...All of the major ones?”

“Eta hain ezagunak ez direnak ere bai. [And some of the lesser known ones as well]”

Aadhya’s eyes get very wide. “You speak Basque??”

It’s now Radha Rama’s turn to look surprised. “Do you?”

Aadhya laughs, slightly panicking. No way. No fucking way it was her whole type in one hot 5 foot something slightly evil woman. Shit. She was well and truly fucked. “Pixka bat [somewhat],” she stammers out. “I’m a linguistics researcher by profession, actually. My entire passion is learning about the morphology of different languages around the world.”

Radha Rama scans her, top to bottom, in a show of genuine interest that has Aadhya burning up. “Well, color me impressed,” she says at last. She seems to remember where they were, and glances around the room, then at the nose ring Aadhya’s still holding in her hands.

“Do you want that?” she asks, nodding at the nose ring.

Aadhya glances down at it, then shakes her head. “Oh no, sorry. I was just trying it on. Silver isn’t my color, I wear gold.”

Radha Rama accepts that. “Well, you missed breakfast. It’s now time for lunch. Come join me downstairs in the dining hall.”

Aadhya blinks. Hot woman was asking to have lunch with her. “Ok,” she agrees, quickly putting the nose ring back where she found it, and follows Radha Rama out of the room.

Lunch had been amazing, and Aadhya made sure to compliment the chef once more. They had started out discussing some of Aadhya’s research, and spent the rest of lunch debating the merits of using Esperanto as a global standard.

The older woman had been easy to talk to. While she wasn’t too familiar with linguistics in general, she was intelligent, and a fast learner. She also seemed genuinely interested in what Aadhya had to say, and didn’t mind when Aadhya went on mini rants about some of her field experiences. She was still intimidating, and could be incredibly blunt when she wanted to, but Aadhya felt that it wasn’t a slight against her specifically, that the woman was just like that in general.

Radha Rama had left soon after they finished eating, saying she had some work with Obullamma.

After a few more hours of wandering around, Aadhya opens the door to find Bilal of all people doing yoga on the floor beside his bed.

He doesn’t open his eyes as he speaks. “I’m still not going to tell you guys anything, no matter what you do.”

“...Bilal?”

His eyes fly open. “You’re still alive??” He asks, incredulously.

“Yes?” Aadhya doesn’t know whether to be touched by the concern in his eyes or offended at the idea that she wasn’t capable of keeping herself alive for another day.

He immediately rises to his feet, and hugs her. Aadhya hugs him back, relieved to see him either way. When he pulls back, he checks her for injuries, frowning at the lack of them.

“Bilal,” she sighs. “I’m fine, really.”

“How?” he asks once more, still looking like he’s in shock.

“Bilal, do you want me to be hurt?”

He winces. “Sorry, thalli. I just can’t believe that with all the hate Obullamma has towards your family, she hasn’t hurt you.”

“Oh she wanted to,” Aadhya says. “Radha Rama’s keeping her off of me for now.”

Bilal looks relieved, then immediately horrified. “Who is keeping her off of you??”

“...Radha Rama? Radha Rama Mannar I think she said her full name was.”

Bilal stares at the wall behind Aadhya for a good ten seconds, then takes a deep breath. “What the fuck.”

Her confusion must show in her face, because Bilal takes pity on her. “You mean to tell me you pissed off Obullamma but somehow got on Radha Rama’s good side? Of all people?”

Aadhya just shrugs.

“I don’t know much about what’s going on, just that Radha Rama doesn’t want to kill me just yet because she sees herself in me or something? She said she’s getting Deva to come here to find me.” And because she’s paying attention to it, she notices the small flicker, the eye twitch as soon as she mentions Deva’s name.

Aadhya homes in on it. “You knew, didn’t you? The whole time. That Deva was my brother.”

Bilal winces. “Yes. I’m assuming Radha Rama told you then?”

Aadhya nods. “What really happened? What is this place? Radha Rama said she was going to be a karta, whatever that is. What’s going on?”

Bilal sighs, and tells her the story of two soulmates turned enemies.

Varadha. Varadharaja Mannar was the name of the ex that had destroyed her brother, the guilt of what he had done to Varadha’s brother reducing Deva to the shell that he was today. And Deva, he was the heir of one of the ruling clans of Khansaar. Which meant…

Her head spins. Before she can ask Bilal what that means for her, the door opens and Obullamma walks in. Aadhya winces. So much for her resolution of avoiding Obullamma today.

Obullamma sneers at Aadhya. “Get out, girl. Bilal and I,” she glares at the man, “are going to catch up." Aadhya glances at Bilal, who gestures for her to go.

“Go, Aadhya. This has nothing to do with you.”

She reluctantly leaves the room, glancing one last time worriedly at Bilal. If they hadn’t killed him yet, they probably weren’t going to kill him now, she figures. Aadhya needs a drink after that revelation, so she goes to find someone she can bother for one.

tags: @recentinterest @illusions-of-serendipity @sinistergooseberries @theimmortalprince @nini9224 @just-a-lazy-person @greatkittykoala idk who else wants to be tagged (or untagged) + server lovelies

#salaar #ramaadhya #salaar fic

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magicaldragons · 7 months

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I am really interested in the fics you are writing for salaar! they are amazing! wondering what are your hcs or fic ideas that you want to write or see written?

hello! and first off, thank you so much ♡

ahh, so! headcanons, damn. my headcanons are mostly psychology based, and i usually type them out as they come to me, but the ones on my mind lately have been:

Varadha admired Radha Rama as a child, and made an effort to get her approval, but it never worked out because she was entirely apathetic

Bharava seduced Radha Rama (because he wanted a seat in court and to be an insider) and once it happened, they gradually grew distant, and Radha Rama didn't completely understand why, till she learnt of his betrayal

Varadha is basically a "princess Diana" character, fucked over by those closest to him, but adored by most of those among the kingdom [this isn't even a headcanon, it's plain canon]

Khansaar definitely has some beaches to the Southwest, and the Rann of Kutch extends into Khansaar, so there's these salty marshes too, but the Ghaniyaars occupy most of that territory, with the Mannars mostly inland, and the Shouryaangas centered towards the east, which would leave them at a disadvantage, but since they're the stronger tribe, it all works out.

Baba is closer to Varadha than he is to Baachi (i've got an upcoming analysis on this + baachi & varadha's relationship)

Varadha lost Mahara in a fight/challenge of some kind (not necessarily physical), and all he has left is Pathran.

there's more, now that i think about it, but for now we'll leave it at that xD

as for fanfics:

• so, before any of my other fic ideas, i had this visual of deva, brought to khansaar after stopping the seal, and with shackles that he could easily break out of at any point. everyone in the room knows he might be armed after the whole gun show and the dozens of bodies they have to show for it. varadha asks his men to search deva, but they slink back, terrified of the consequences. varadha, irritated, sends them all out. cue a quiet, guilt-ridden deva – and an exhausted, seething, varadha, just verbally tearing into him: each. deliberate. word. dripping with hatred. while feeling deva up for weapons. yeah. guilty pleasure. it might end up being part of s&o or a standalone fic if i feel like it

• after i get to a comfortable place with s&o, there's another fic almost ready to see the light of day: comprising royal assassin! deva & prince! varadha (ask me if you want a summary/teaser, oof, it'll make more sense, if you'd like to know more)

• an au with twins! deva & devaratha and dancer! varadha (this one's plot heavy, and also involves magic)

• there's a futuristic au that i'm working the plot out for currently

• this fic

• and of course, the extension of 'distance' that i'm still hashing out the details for

(and regarding fics i want to see written, i will eat. up. anything, though i do have a fondness for angst)

but yes, that's most of it! if you read through all of this, then thank you xD i did not know it would get this extensive

much love, rey <3

#so...this is slightly more than i expected #hope its satisfying #salaar #varadeva #headcanons #fanfic ideas

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agattthaa · 6 months

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Maybe

Paring: Deviya Sharma x Radha Basu

Word count: 1.095

Rating: T

Summary: One joke makes Radha loose her sleep in wonder about who is the owner of Deviya's heart.

Another night of staring at the ceiling.

Radha was tired of it already.

Since the day she was having tea with her sister and Devi, she was haunted by her own memories. It was just a joke. She knew that. It was only supposed to take a few laughs out of her and of Saraswati and it was supposed to be forgotten. Just like all of her sister's lame and forgetables jokes, they were supposed to bother the person around the joke, in that case, Deviya, and be quickly forgotten.

But this time, Radha couldn't forget it.

Saraswati had pointed out that Deviya was becoming more sociable, going to the services, arriving earlier for the meetings and always leaving late. She was dressing up more, using more jewelry, taking better care of her hair and skin and her outfits all complemented her figure in all the right places.

Sometimes, too focused on the right places.

So Saraswati asked her if she was working that hard to attract certain eyes to her. The Sharma head immediately went silent and became red, Saraswati began to poke her on the sides, chanting: 'Our little fawn has a crush! Our little fawn has a crush!'

Deviya became redder, slapping Sara's shoulder and telling the youngest Basu that she was crazy, but when her eyes met Radha's, she knew. It was true.

Radha didn't understand why this bothered her so much. Deviya was beautiful and she was young. It was perfectly normal for her to have feelings for someone. Even Radha went thought that, although she deeply regretted it. It shouldn't bother her.

But it did.

Profoundly so.

She couldn't help herself. It bothered her. Knowing that Deviya was so infatuated by someone that she went through such lengths to try to appease them, to know that she bathed thinking of that person, that she chose her clothes thinking of that person, that she went to bed thinking about that person. It bothered her. And it bothered her even more to not know who was the one responsible for stealing Deviya's heart.

Of course that the reason for the mystery was not the lack of pretendents. On the contrary, perhaps it was the fact that there were too many of them. Deviya was smart, intelligent and capable of keeping a conversation even on a subject unknown to her. She was quick to make friends, she was incredibly sweet when she wanted to, her smile was a piece of art and she was absolutely beautiful.

So of course than from the top of her head Radha could imagine more than five people completely in love with Deviya.

The most obvious one was clearly Mr. De Clare. If he really wanted people to think that the reason he wanted to celebrate that damned wedding was his responsibilities, he could at least try to hide that stupid smile he carried on his lips anytime that he was on the same room as Deviya and stop his stupid hands that were too eager to touch the Sharma heir whenever he had the opportunity to do so.

Obviously it wasn't him. Deviya never tried to hide how displeased she was with that situation in front of Rahda. And once while they were in the Basu's heir bedroom and Deviya was playing with her hair while Radha rested her head on her lap, Deviya had confessed that if her wedding did happen house Sharma would be condemned to not bear any heirs.

So, clearly it wasn't him.

Kamal, although he clearly had feelings for her, also wasn't the one on Deviya's heart. Rahda had pointed out the clear feelings of the tutor towards his protegee once, making Deviya laugth. She had told Radha that Kamal was like an older brother to Kairas, so of couse he could only see Deviya as a baby sister, just like his own. That made the Basu heir roll her eyes, Deviya was too naive sometimes. The last thing on the man's gaze above her was brotherly affection. Either way, he had failed. I was not him.

It couldn't be Saraswati. And thanks to the godness for that. Deviya had refered to Sara as her sister at least once everytime that the two were together. And Radha didn't want to know if her sister had feelings for Deviya. Her head refused to think about it and her heart ached with the mere possibility.

It could be Ram. They grew closer after Deviya came back. She appeared to be the only person who he wasn't averted to touch and they made each other laugh as easily as breathing. Thinking better about it, not only he didn't avert her touch but he appeared to reach for it, always navigating on Deviya's space, always trying to get scrapes of her attention, just like all of them. And although his touch didn't seem to bother her as much as Mr. De Clare's, she didn't run towards it.

Not as she did with Radha, at least.

She didn't hold his hand when she was nervous or sad, nor did she call Ram beautiful whenever he smiled at her.

Perhaps, it wasn't him.

Perhaps it was the person that Deviya ran towards the touch, she thought. Perhaps it was the person that she always held hands with. The person that she always hugged the longest, the one she played with her hair and that always braided and unbranded it. Maybe it was the person that said that reds and purples and blues are the prettiest on Deviya, making the Sharma heir wear basically only those colours. Maybe it was the person that always won a beautiful peace of jewelry whenever they met and that was called beautiful any time she smiled.

Maybe Deviya didn't even like anyone. Maybe she was just feeling a little shy during that day. Maybe she realized that she needed to dress as magnificent as possible to preserve the pride of the Sharma family.

But maybe, just maybe, Deviya could love her back.

Maybe she was the reason for Deviya's smile, and maybe she was the motive to make Deviya's eyes shine so brightly. Maybe this was all bullshit and Radha's feelings made her see things that didn't actually exist. But maybe she was right, and as she fell asleep she knew that the mere possibility of having Deviya to herself made any uncertainty seem irrelevant.

Maybe this day, that was already rising, was the one that marked the time to put an end to any maybe.

It was time to be sure.

#rc radha #radha basu #'make radha basu a li' movement and club #rc flame of samsara #romance club

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alezangona · 7 months

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Second Chances (Salaar AU)

Part 1: A Surprise Encounter

Summary: Amidst a crazy wedding season, the Mannar siblings face chance encounters that change the trajectory of their lives.

“Mam,” Bilal’s exasperated tone snaps Radha Rama out of her thoughts and she places the folder she’s holding on the desk, devoting her attention to him.

“What’s the matter, Bilal? Did the Arodha’s want to make another change to their destination wedding because I swear to god, I’ve told them in a million different ways that I cannot get those parrots flown into the island this late in the game without proper permits.”

“No, they’re actually being reasonable this time– if you can believe it.” He lets out a huff of air as he plops down in the chair across from her. “They’ve just decided that veganism is the new trend they want to hop on. Which means they want to drag their family and friends in on it too.”

“No! No, no, no.” Radha Rama squeezes the bridge of her nose, bangles clanging as they move down her arm. “Don’t tell me… the wedding is in three days Bilal!”

“I don’t think they seem to realize that, but anyway, they want new caterers. Baachi was able to reach out to some of his contacts and draw up a contract with one of the best vegan restaurants on the island.” She lets out a small sigh and sinks back into her seat.

“If that situation is handled, then what’s the issue?”

“I was supposed to meet with the Krishnakanths today to discuss their daughter’s wedding, but I just got a call that my son is sick. I need to pick him up from school and take him to the doctor.”

“Oh.” Radha Rama turns to her computer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she observes the screen. “That’s okay Bilal, you handle that. I’ll just send… ah, yes! Varadha is free around then. He can handle it.”

“Thank you, mam! I’m so sorry, I know how important their contract is, especially with how much power Krishnakanth holds. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t–”

“Bilal,” Radha Rama looks up at him, dark eyes filled with understanding. “I know. I know you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t urgent. Don’t apologize, not to me, okay? Just make sure your son is okay and we’ll handle your projects till then.”

“You’re the best, boss.” Bilal stands, a relieved smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t I know it.” She winks, face alight with mischief as she sends him out on his way.

~*~

Varadha’s teeth grit together when he checks his watch, a curse leaving his lips. If there was anything he was proud of, it was his ability to be punctual regardless of any hurdles in his way. He didn't know what his sister was thinking, giving him a new assignment an hour before the meeting time, when she knew he had to make his way through Khansar traffic.

Varadha was nothing if not determined though. So his eyes scan the route on the GPS, mind rapidly putting together the different pieces of the puzzle till a picture flashes in his mind– the exit he could take, followed by the route that could get him to the meeting location as soon as possible. Ten minutes later, he’s sitting at the cafe, his laptop and documents arranged neatly on the table in front of him.

Two minutes later, his foot taps a staccato against the brick patio, still waiting for the family to arrive. After five more minutes of sitting around hoping to catch sight of these rich bastards who don’t seem to give a fuck about other people’s time, Varadha decides it’s best to kill time by being as productive as he possibly can. He pulls out the file Radha Rama handed to him as he was running out the door and flips it open to the page that describes the bride.

Aadhya Krishnakanth. Born and brought up in the States. A doctor initially based out of New York before deciding to move to India. Opened a free clinic for patients in marginalized regions of the country. Lives in Hyderabad with her mother–

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” There’s a sudden pink blur that races through the cafe before crashing down in the seat across from him. “I’m so sorry! I always try so hard not to be late, but you have to understand it’s so difficult with my schedule. There was a surgery today that ended up getting more complicated than we expected and oh god! I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, no it’s okay!” The sudden noise after an excruciating phase of silence is enough to give him whiplash, but seeing how frazzled the poor girl is softens him up like butter. “We’ve all been there. I was late too, to be honest. Stuck in traffic actually but that’s nothing compared to saving lives now that I think about it.” She smiles at him, relieved and thankful, sinking into her seat.

“Aadhya,” she holds out a hand, grinning brightly in the way Americans tend to do. “So nice to meet you…?”

“Varadha. Is anyone else going to be joining us today?”

“Yeah! My parents weren’t able to make it, but my fiancé and f–”

“Ey, Tingari (crazy girl). Wait for me next time, will you?” A towering figure appears behind Aadhya, his arms wrapping around to pull her into a hug that is powerful enough to lift her off her chair for half a second.

“Rey! Let me down!” She swats at him playfully, bringing out a deep and melodic laugh from the man. He does as she requests and takes a seat next to her, an arm draped casually over the back of her chair.

“Hi sir! I’m De-” The sound dies on his lips when he makes out who exactly it is sitting in front of him. “Varadha?”

“Deva?”

“You two know each other?” Aadhya looks between the two of them, confused as to why they look like they’ve seen a ghost. They don’t say anything for a second, too stunned to speak. She might’ve left it well alone if it wasn’t for the fact that she was a nosey little fucker who wanted all the details. So she digs her fingers into the side of Deva’s waist, smirking when he jumps and his attention diverts to her.

“Yeah, we were roommates in college.” Deva mumbles, rubbing his hand over his side and glaring at Aadhya. Something about that answer doesn’t seem to be what Varadha expects because his face darkens for a moment, lips pursing when he takes a second to recompose himself.

“Yeah, roommates. Anyway, today’s meeting isn’t about that. Your father wanted to hire us because of our commitment to excellence in every event that we plan. However, as a company, we prioritize creating unique experiences that are a reflection of our clients and their journey. So I usually like to start by getting an idea of what you’re looking for going forward. It seems that according to the file, you’re hoping for a big wedding?” Deva immediately scoffs at that.

“Deva–” Aadhya starts, a slight blush coating her cheeks.

“What? It’s true.” Deva looks at Varadha then. “She’d prefer a smaller wedding. As small as we can get considering her dad is stuffing the list to the brim with his entire network.”

Varadha can’t find it in him to say anything, so he looks down at the file, making note of the fact. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s digging the pen into the paper though, till the free flowing movement stops and he realizes the pen is stuck in a tiny hole. Swallowing, he pulls it out and looks back up at the couple.

“Well considering we got most of our information from your father, I’m assuming more things in this file are wrong than right?” Varadha hands over the file to the other side of the table. Deva reaches over to grab it, placing it between him and Aadhya as they lean over to read it together. Varadha’s attention catches on how their expressions almost move in synch, going from light frowns to wide-eyed looks of incredulity. “So?”

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong…” Aadhya shrugs at the piece of paper, her hunched posture a direct contradiction to her tone.

“Pichi Pilla (crazy girl),” Deva crosses his arms over his chest and looks directly at Varadha, who can feel the world closing in on him, slowly but surely. “Look, half of this is bull. She wants a smaller wedding, something in India and not a destination abroad. She hates beaches, would probably rather burn herself alive than be caught dead dragging a trail of sand behind her. She loves food, so none of those small plates of Hors D’oeuvres that leave you feeling more hungry after taking a nibble than you were before that. Probably a big giant buffet where people can go back for fourths, that’d be ideal right?”

At that, Aadhya places her hand gently on his arm in an effort to stop him perhaps. Still, she gazes up at Deva with so much warmth, her eyes glassing over just slightly enough to let Varadha know that what Deva said mattered to her. Why he said it, mattered to her. He has to look away from the image in front of him, simply because he knows what it’s like.

Varadha knows what it’s like to be in Aadhya’s place because that’s where he was for the longest time. If anyone knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Deva’s love and affection, it’s him. It’s no surprise that the memories of that man are etched into every fiber of his being, even after all these years.

The coal-dark eyes that would come to life when Varadha would enter a room. The warm body that would press into his from behind during movie nights on that dingy-ass college couch. The smell of burning food left abandoned on the stove as wine coated lips explored each other against thin walls.

The man who dropped to his knees, begging Varadha to forgive him when–

“I’ll give you two a moment.” Varadha says, pushing out of his chair and walking himself out the door to the cafe. The second he gets to the parking lot, he pulls out the remaining half of a cigarette he bummed from a friend the night before at a party. Smoking wasn’t something he necessarily enjoyed doing. It was an occasional habit he’d picked up after college.

Whenever Deva would feel anxious about something, he’d make his way onto their roof, taking a drag beneath the night sky. Every once in a while, Varadha would join him. More often when he knew times were tough. They’d lie there together in silence for a moment before Deva would point to different constellations and tell him the myths he heard as a child. Deva wasn’t much of a talker with other people, but when he loved people enough to let them into his small circle, conversation was something that dripped from his lips like sweet honey. Once he’d calm down, he’d turn towards Varadha, a look of pure gratitude in his eyes as his chapped lips would brush against his own. The taste of nicotine in those moments used to be so irresistible, because it became the taste of Deva.

That was all it was, to be honest. It wasn’t often that Varadha found himself in distress, but in those rare moments of weakness, the warmth of the cigarette against his lips would remind him of Deva. For some time, it would be as if they were still together, the mistakes of the past erased.

Yet, when the cigarette touches his lips today, it leaves behind a bitter taste. He scoffs as he lets out a puff, scraping his shoes against the ground. Why wouldn’t it? The man he’s in love with, even after all these years, is about to get married to a beautiful, kind, caring woman. His stomach churns uneasily and he gives up, too tired to try and process the day beyond the fact that the man he loves isn’t his anymore. Hasn’t been for a while now.

“Let me have a drag?” Varadha freezes, finger that was about to drop the cigarette tightening around it and passing it along to Deva’s waiting hand without further thought. “Thanks, ra.”

“Should you be smoking at this age? It kills you know?” Deva leans against the car, lips quirking up and he doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at Varadha’s hypocrisy. “I smoke occasionally, I don’t count. You probably do it on a daily basis.”

“Careful, Varadha. You don’t want me thinking you actually care do you?”

“Of course I care!” Varadha pauses, looking to his feet. “You’ve got a nice girl in there. Least you can do is make it to your wedding alive.” Deva’s eyes dig into Varadha’s profile and he can feel his skin rising uncomfortably. “What’s with all the staring?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, B- Varadha. I’m soaking up as much as I can before you go.” He flicks the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before speaking again. “As for the girl, we’re not together. She’s just a friend.”

Varadha should be embarrassed by the immediate relief he feels at the statement. The churning pit in his stomach disappears in seconds as he takes a moment to really observe the man standing across from him. If it was possible, he was more handsome now than all those years ago. His lanky frame that used to be hidden behind drowning fabrics has now filled out deliciously, the protruding muscles emphasized by the various textured clothing that wrap snugly around him. His wild mane that would stick out in every direction, frizzing out during the humid months, is now styled to perfection with every curl staying in place. His once clean shaven face is now painted with a dark beard that makes him look less like the boy next door and more like a rugged stranger that Varadha wouldn’t mind running into during a night out. The tattoo wrapping around Deva’s arm further emphasizes that particular fantasy of his.

Was it pathetic how in love with him he still was? If Radha Rama was here with him, she wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

“What about her fiancé?”

“He’s running late. His flight’s coming in from L.A. today. I just wanted to hop along because I knew if she was alone she’d say yes to all the shit her dad had laid out for her.” Deva lights another cigarette he pulls out of his pocket, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before he lets out a puff of air that fades into the afternoon breeze.

“Is that why you’re so stressed?” Varadha leans against the car as well, a couple of inches away from Deva. The hairs on his body stay on edge, aware of the electrical pulse that beats between them. He tries not to let that distract him.

“Please, I can handle Krishnakanth.” Deva passes the cigarette back to Varadha, who forces himself not to think about the fact that Deva’s lips were wrapped against the paper just seconds ago. He fails miserably. “He doesn’t mean any harm really. He’s a good man who just wants to see his daughter taken care of and she hasn’t met anyone she’s fallen for yet. So, why not say yes to marriage to make her family happy?”

“What about her? Will she be happy?” The look Deva gives him is enough for Varadha to understand and he keeps quiet, not knowing what else to say.

“Meeting you today was a surprise.” Deva offers and Varadha takes greedily.

“For me as well.” He admits, fingers coming up to play with his watch.

“You look good Varadha. You look happy.”

“Well… that’s open to interpretation.”

“You’re not happy?” Deva crushes the cigarette against the ground, rigidity taking over his body once more.

“I’m doing well, Deva. That should be enough right?”

“Not for me. It shouldn’t be for you either. What’s wrong Varadha? What’s missing?” Deva steps closer to him, the scent of his cologne surrounding Varadha in an intoxicating cloud. Maybe that’s what allows for him to let his guard down.

“You,” the word passes uninterrupted from his lips. “You’re missing from my life and I’ve wanted you back every day since–”

Deva takes a step back, snapping Varadha out of his daze. The broken expression on his face makes Varadha feel like an absolute asshole.

“Shit, Deva. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“I left that day because you asked me to. Not because I wanted to.” Varadha sucks in a sharp breath at the admission, mouth falling shut.

“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, especially after all this time. Just because I haven’t moved on doesn’t mean the same applies to you.” Varadha looks away, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t owe me anything, Deva. Not after everything, but I need you to know that I regret what I did back then. Not a day goes by where I don’t wish that it played out differently because then maybe…” He swallows, stopping the words in his throat. The images play in his mind though, of an intimate wedding, a beautiful house on the edge of the river, a small child’s laugh echoing through the property.

“Yeah, well… I wish it played out differently too.” Deva takes in a deep breath, his gaze resting on the horizon. “I haven’t gotten over you either.”

“Oh?”

“So, where does that leave us? Are we just going to get that off our chests and never see each other again? Because I’m getting old, Varadha. I don’t think I have energy to wait anymore.” Deva hangs his head, hands tucked into his pockets.

Varadha can’t help but to think of how his life passed by in a blink of an eye over the past two decades. A lifetime of memories that felt as if they hadn't been experienced, not in the way they were meant to. All the moments of joy and pride, sadness and pain, nothing more than fleeting emotions that refused to ground themselves into the core of his very being. When he’d lie in bed at night, desperately trying to find a reason for this ache, Deva’s name would echo through his mind and he’d wonder how he could’ve ever been blind to it before.

Why did he ever let that man go?

“I won’t make you wait, not this time.” Varadha’s hand intertwines with Deva’s, touch as gentle as a feather brushing against glass. “Let’s start over?”

~*~

6 Months Later

Varadha makes deliberate cuts into the meat in front of him, trying hard to clear out any remaining bones so the previous week’s episode doesn’t unfold a second time. Sure he and his sister had their fair share of fights, but nothing drastic enough where we wanted to murder her through way of choking on a bone.

“Bujji?” The call comes simultaneously with the thud of the front door closing.

“In the kitchen.” Varadha replies, refusing to break his concentration.

“Here’s the sauce you asked for. They didn’t have the brand you usually get, but this seemed like it’d be good too.” Deva sets the glass container next to Varadha, leaning in to place a quick peck against his cheek. Varadha hears a sound of disgust from behind him and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“You make a fuss now, but the second I put down the food, you’re the first to gobble it up.”

“You see how gross uncooked meat is right? Your chopping skills don't help the image either.”

“Rey–”Varadha turns, holding the knife threateningly towards Deva.

“Calm down, Kick Buttowski. Get back to work and look out for any bones. I’m not about to lose my favorite Mannar sibling to something smaller than a lima bean again.”

“Don’t let Baachi hear you say that. It’ll break his heart.”

“I’m sure it will. After all, we’re attached at the hip, the two of us.” Deva chuckles as he opens up a bottle of wine for them. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do to impress that kid. He’ll just hate me for the rest of his life.”

“He doesn’t hate you!” Varadha defends instantly, putting down his knife now that he was finished with his thorough inspection.

“The bruise from when he chucked a volleyball at my head last week begs to differ.” Varadha washes his hands meticulously before heading over to Deva and pulling him down to place a lingering kiss on his left temple, where the remnants of a pretty terrible bruise were finally starting to fade.

“You have a point, but he does it out of love. I swear.” Deva shakes his head at the comment before handing Varadha a glass of wine.

“No, me putting up with his murderous tendencies is what’s done out of love.” Deva whips out his phone and taps against the screen. A soft Hindi melody plays from the speakers and Varadha smiles at his boyfriend at the gesture. “But I can put up with that till death as long as you keep kissing all the wounds better.”

“God, you’re such a sap.” Varadha complains, but there’s no malice behind it. Just the light hearted tone that comes from being in love with an unbelievably sweet idiot. So he grabs at Deva’s shirt and tugs him in closer for a deep kiss. A small moan escapes his throat when he tastes his favorite wine lingering on Deva’s lips. The various notes of fruit, spices, and coco dust intermingle seamlessly into the unique flavor that belongs to Deva, and Varadha can’t possibly get enough. His fingers tangle into the taller man’s hair, pushing off the ground to wrap his legs around Deva’s waist. A grunt of surprise leaves Deva’s lips, but he’s quick to catch on to Varadha and move towards the counter. Placing Varadha down gives him more leeway than before, so he digs his ankles into the small of Deva’s back, pulling him closer to gain more access to his mouth.

“Rey,” Deva groans as he forces himself to pull away. “God stop teasing me. We have guests coming over soon.”

“They can wait.” Varadha’s teeth catch against the bottom of his earlobe, nipping playfully. “They’ll understand that a chef deserves his kiss.”

“I don’t know that chef is the right word when all that’s sitting out right now is a lump of meat.”

“Whyyyyy!” Varadha whines as he pulls away from his hot boyfriend. “Why do you do this to me? What’s the point of having a sexy boyfriend if I can’t make out with him whenever I want.”

“You can still ogle me.” Deva winks at him. “Now, stop pouting and get to cooking. We have the rest of the night once they leave.”

“It would take a S.W.A.T. team to evacuate them out of this apartment post dinner. The second Aadhya whips out the cards, everyone’s going to settle in for a round of poker and before we know it, she’ll have us drowning in debt.”

“Drowning you in debt. The rest of us actually win every once in a while.” Deva comments, making his way into Varadha’s room to change.

Varadha spends the next hour quickly shuffling through the kitchen and preparing the feast, while Deva tidies up around the apartment and sets up the dining table. They idly exchange stories from their day, where Deva speaks of his cute Kindergarteners who gifted him a paper crown that was more glue than paper at this point, while Varadha complains about how billionaires shouldn’t be allowed to get married because it is quite frankly impossible (potentially unethical) to bring in a whole herd of elephants just so the celebrity guests could make a grad entrance to the reception. Which would pale in comparison when the newlyweds would enter on the backs of lions. That idea was vetoed pretty quickly by him and his sister, thank god.

“Ey, Macha!” Aadhya bustles in just as they finish getting ready, a tray of brownies in hand. “This is about to be the best dessert of your lives! Crumb coffee cake brownies, made by yours truly.”

“There were supposed to be two trays, but I downed one on the way here!” Radha Rama shouts from near the entryway. A wide smile settles on Aadhya’s face.

“Seal of approval from the best Mannar sibling!” Aadhya declares happily as she grabs herself a hard cider from their fridge.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Varadha frowns in his sister’s direction. “What’s so special about you besides an undiagnosed sugar addiction?”

“I’m the one who’s kept this circus afloat for years, kid. Show some respect!” Radha Rama smirks as she pushes past her brother, making her way over to Aadhya and wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Don’t take it too seriously, Bujji.” Deva laughs leaning against the counter. “Our Tingari Pilla is just too in love with her girlfriend to see things objectively.”

“It’s not just her.” Baachi comes stomping into the apartment, carrying a heaving box of decorations that he plops unceremoniously to the ground. “Considering they’ve been using me as a pack mule for this wedding, the least you can do is declare me the best Mannar sibling instead of tucking tail and following my brother around like a lost puppy.”

In the blink of an eye, the siblings start bickering, bringing up every moment from the past in an effort to one up each other. Deva and Aadhya choose to sit back silently, watching the event play out in front of them.

“We’ll get to dinner soon, right?” Aadhya asks, anxiously gazing at the clock.

“Yeah… as soon as your girlfriend stops trying to rip my boyfriend to shreds with that pillow?” Deva’s brow furrows as he tries to determine when exactly the physical fight broke out.

“I’m going to be honest Deva. I think tonight’s the night we confess to them.”

“Confess what?”

“You know? That there’s no superior Mannar sibling because all of them are certifiably insane?”

“And that we’re the angels for putting up with them?”

“Mhm. Exactly!” Aadhya places down her cider and makes her way into the sibling’s circle to drag Radha Rama out by the arm. “Food first, fighting later. I refuse to eat cold lasagna again, Babe.”

They spend the rest of the night eating, drinking, and playing poker. Varadha loses every round and at some point, he gives up and leans against Deva’s side instead, inadvertently becoming a part of his team. It’s something he realizes he should do more often because he likes the feeling of winning every once in a while, even if it was his boyfriend doing most of the work.

By the time everyone leaves, Varadha can barely keep his eyes open. He leans his forehead against the door, eyes closed as he allows the silence to envelop him.

“Rey, come to bed.” Deva places a hand on his shoulder to peel him off the door.

“The door is so soft though.” Varadha slurs through wine drunk lips.

“The bamboo pillows you brought are softer, I promise. Come on now.”

Soon, the two of them are tangled up under Varadha’s sheets, holding each other close as they let the day finally slow down around them.

“This is getting annoying.” Varadha murmurs into Deva’s chest.

“What, family dinners? I love you Bujji, but you have to stop picking fights with your sister. We could get to eating faster for one thing.”

“No!” Varadha shoves Deva away before pulling him back when he realizes how cold it is. “No, you asshole. I meant having to work around our schedules to see each other recently.”

“Oh, that.” Deva hums and settles closer to Varadha. “I’ve been trying to find apartments closer to this side of the city. I think that could fix the scheduling conflict a little.”

“Rent in Pathran is abhorrent, Bangarm.”

“So? What’s your solution?”

“Move in with me?”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” Deva places a peck on Varadha’s head, chuckling a little.

“I’m being serious. Move in with me.” Varadha insists.

“I know, but let’s talk about this tomorrow when you’re less tipsy.”

Varadha groans, asking the gods silently why they fated him to fall in love with an oblivious, asshole of a man. He reaches over to switch on the lights and because he was just a little annoyed with Deva, he revels when the man shields his eyes from the sudden onslaught.

“Now you can look at me and see how serious I am when I ask this. Move in with me, Deva.” Varadha intertwines their hands together when their gazes meet. “It’s as simple as this: I’m happiest when I’m with you and I hate not being around you. I love it when you walk into the apartment, I love it when you help me cook, I love it when you help me clean. I love it when you curl up with me to watch a movie, I love it when you read next to me before bed, I love it when I see your teaching plans scattered across my desk. I even love it when you’re grading your students’ art projects and all the glitter falls onto the carpet. Nothing I do gets rid of it and I keep finding it everywhere, even in my coffee! I just love you so can we go back to being roommates? Please?”

The way Deva flips him over onto his back and devours him is answer enough.

#salaar #varadeva #devaratha raisaar #varadha rajamannar #salaar fic #salaar fanfic #khansar #aadhya krishnakanth #radha rama mannar #ramaadhya #ramaadhya fic #varadeva fic

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pumpkinsy0 · 7 months

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i loved that drawing you made of johnny! do you have any headcanons about him being south asian? 🙏🏻

THANK U🙏🏽🙏🏽 and i have a few??? not a butt ton though so here r the ones i do have

personally i hc him as bengali but im gonna put (mostly) general hcs of him being south asian

•at home, johnnys more cultural, like he wears a shawl when hes cold, i can see him casually wearing a kurta at home, its just more comfortable for him, but when he gets to know the curtis’, he sometimes wears it at their house, he thought they would be mean about it but nah, they rockin w it

•hes rlly into hinduism, islam, and sikhism, those religions r just like the most interesting to him, he especially likes hindu art, especially when its about Krishna and Radha, he likes the colors a LOT and hes so real for that

•I COULD DEF SEE HIM WEARING A LUNGI I WILL SOOOO FIGHT ON THIS ONE IM LITERALLY SO RIGHT

•hes multilingual speaks his language (like i mean whatever u hc as he speaks bangala, punjabi, hindi,etc etc, whatever u hc him as he soeaks that language)

•knows sm about bollywood, ask him about it and he will not stop talking

#johnny cade

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magnuficent76 · 6 months

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REALLY COOL ASK GAME DUDE HERE'S. 11 AND 2 for Archer!! And 55 + 56 for Maria :) (Mary)

UEEHEHEHEEEEE HIIII ELVISSSS <233 !!! AND LETS GET IT !

[-> Archer ]

[ 2 -> How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’? ]

In his younger years, Archer probably would've described a friend as someone who doesn't shoot at you without good reason. Anyone who is willing to watch your back if you're willing to warch theirs, and will make sure your body goes back home if its ever found cold. In that case, he had plenty of friends back in Pandora: Salt, Radha, Jonah, so many others... all of them there for him whenever he needed them. They were a team, maybe not as professionally as Archer acted like it was.

...Nowadays, by that definition, he does not have quite as many. People in Maliwan aren't there to make friends, they're there to meet quota. If the quota requires stabbing someone in the back for a leg up, then that's the way to go. The closest people he has in the corporation are probably assistants like Ferris and *maybe* Hansuke. But he's...complicated. so maybe not.

[ 11 -> If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference? ]

Archer is way too specific for anyone who knows him to fall for an imposter. They'd ask him about his night-time routine and all the individual steps in which he falls asleep and the doppelganger would simply fold. No matter how well you think you're copying him, there's always some part you're missing out on due to how deeply, horribly detailed this man is. Even in a company like Maliwan his quirks stand out, and that's saying something... though, I'm sure that if they were to replace him as an employee, it wouldn't be noticed. Or rather, it would, but no one would truly care for the loss.

[-> Maria/Mary ]

[ 55 -> What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate? ]

Maria always thought she'd enjoy being a seamstress— after all the reshaping and mending clothes in her old clan, it only felt natural that she'd take to sewing and weaving... she did not. It was horrible on the hands, making them cramp wih all the repetitive motions, which made it hard for her proper profession (farming) to be enjoyable when all you can think about is "my hand has muscles I never knew about hurting. Badly". Plus, it just never scratched the itch she hoped it would in her ventures into it. Plushies were fun to have, yeah, but making them is a whole different beast and she ended up only ever grateful that it was over by the end of it. At least the boys had toys growing up :]

[ 56 -> If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear? ]

The person Maria feels safest* when it comes down to it is, ironically, Lucio. Lucio, who in his violent nature and generally hateful demeanor, was never around meaningfully and always made her doubt if she made the right choice, would still protect her with his life and more if she told him she was afraid. He wasn't good with emotional dingadings, but what he was was very strong, and maybe that was enough for when the paranoia for invasions and other such woes might've crossed Maria's mind. And for that much she was thankful for... but otherwise ? When the fear was not being good enough, not having what it takes to keep going ? He was useless pretty much.

So that's why the two other people she trusts most are her own sons. They are very tightly knit, and have connections Maria is sure would transcend lifetimes, so of course she feels her least afraid whenever they're around. The boys were there for her whenever she would cry– they'd guard her bed every night whenever she was sick to make sure everything was alright, go out of their way to make sure any of her fears were dealt with, and if they couldn't do that, they'd come up with a different solution. Maria was all they had in terms of (positive) rolemodels, so of course they would do their damnest to appease her, but it was all a duty of love too. Love that she carried with her when they couldn't be around, and Love that ached their minds whenever they couldn't give it to her.

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emotionscanvas · 1 year

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Radha Radha Radha

You never know what is coming your way, and you have no idea how Krishna (God) has protected you from much that you can't even imagine. What you felt during times of hardship was just a minor turbulence. What I believe is that Krishna simply swept it away before it even touched you. Trust me, we have no idea what was coming our way. We realize with time and patience that we couldn't have made it through without Krishna. I don't know why, but today, I feel that a lot could have happened to me, yet it was Krishna Ji who was always there for me. I'm literally crying out of gratitude for Krishna. I can't complain about things that aren't going well in my life, but I don't know what Krishna's plan is. However, what I do know is that he knows exactly how much I can bear, and he's there protecting me every single second in some way or another. So, I will not question his plan or why he is doing this to me. Instead, I will always ask him to show me the right path to walk on and be there with me as I take action. I say it with confidence and humility that "who could be against me when Krishna himself is with me." I just can't thank Krishna enough for everything he has done for me. ;)

Radhe! Radhe! :)

#trauma #therapy #motivation #healing #love #growth #radhakrishna #faith

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greypetrel · 7 months

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(resisting the urge to not say "i'm not calling you a liar" for Raina LOL)

Maybe "This is as good a place to fall as any" for anyone who fits for Radha, or anyone else who fits? c:

Hello Laya!

Thank you for asking and LOL that song for Raina would have been so funny. x°D

This got me thinking. As previously said, I’m all for Solavellan when it’s platonic, not much when it’s romantic. But, Bedroom Hymns was undeniably romantic, and I couldn’t find one way to decline it as platonic (I TRIED). Thinking and rethinking about how to make myself like Solas as a romance enough to write something convincing unlocked me, tho! I tried, let me see how it went, it was out of my comfort zone, but I hope it’s convincing enough.

And for the record, this is the book I followed. Some names are adapted to Dragon Age of course (Arbor Vitae sounded so similar to Arbor Blessing that I just put that. And “Virginian Spiderwort”… I put the name of a random city in the Free Marches. Also, Tevinter Plum is Indian Plum, with a VERY rough assignation.)

Tis the prompt list

Floriography

[ “This is as good a place to fall as any” ]

This is his body This is his love Such selfish prayers And I can't get enough Bedroom Hymns - Florence + the Machine

Radha observed Josephine with the air of a person that firmly believed she was being made a fool out of.

“Oh, come on.” The ambassador laughed. “Don’t make that face, it’s just a coded language like any other Leliana taught you!”

“Except assigning meanings to flowers makes no sense. Why should a Pansy mean thought?”

“It means I think of you. And I don’t know, maybe because it’s such a pretty flower?”

Radha watched Josephine fix the bouquet in front of her with care, a smile she couldn’t contain on her lips and in her eyes. She looked happy, and even if Radha knew who sent those flowers and was burning to tell her that Blackwall was hiding something, and to watch out… Whatever made her smile like that couldn’t be all that bad, she considered. She could attach meaning to those flowers, if she wanted, it really hurt no one, as much as a nonsensical way of communicating that was.

“If you say so.” She shrugged in the end, not convinced.

“I think it’s sweet.” Josie kept on, and turned her smile to her in a way Radha didn’t like. “Wouldn’t you like for Solas to gift you flowers as well, and know he meant something with each one he chose?”

The elf groaned in all answer, rolling her eyes to the ceiling of the office. It was far too silly for her, and as Josephine laughed at the display, she smiled back at the woman and wove a goodbye, turning back and leaving her to attach whatever set of words she wanted to the plants she received.

She crossed the Great Hall, headed to the library, and the thought still stuck, picking at her curiosity all the more because she couldn’t really understand the purpose of it.

She was there when Ydun filled the aravel she and Aisling shared with field flowers, once her sister complained the other never did anything spontaneous. She was there to help Aisling and her girlfriend clean the damn flowers out of the cart, which took the three of them hours of work, and a big question on what to do with all those flowers.

It had been silly and uncomfortable, and even Aisling had agreed that maybe picking flowers wasn’t that nice. That they were nicer growing in fields, instead of dead just for a fleeting moment of beauty.

That had settled the flower matter, for Radha, and she told Solas right away that if he really wanted to court her, beside not entering her dreams uninvited ever again, not to gift her flowers. And he had listened on both things.

But now, working with Leliana on how to circle the Templar blockade in the Emprise du Lion, reviewing reports and trying to concoct a safe way around the main pathway that could lead an armed group into Sahrnia off track, without having them trapped in the snow… The thought kept bugging her most annoyingly.

So annoyingly than when they were finished for the day, after she checked that Aisling and Dorian weren’t planning on setting themselves on fire or make something else explode that afternoon, she started shuffling the bookshelves until she found… ah.

Floriography.

There was a whole book about it, and it was fairly thick. Surprisingly thick.

Shuffling through pages, she discovered it contained pages upon pages with pictures of every single flower and plant, with instructions on how to recognise the wanted variety precisely, curiosities and other uses. Beside a dictionary of associations, ordered one by flower, one by meaning.

Radha wondered why it wasn’t just a book of botany and nothing more.

But, curious as she always was when meeting something new to learn, she placed herself on her spot on the couch in the rotunda, and started to read. With a grudge, and fully intending to disprove that silly method and silly book.

“I thought you weren’t the type for flowers.”

A known, dear voice chuckles over her, coming to sit beside her some minutes after.

She huffed, settling better to get in contact with him, allowing Solas to hug her shoulders and peek on the page she had opened on her bent thighs, as she kept on reading.

“This language is stupid.”

“Is it? I think it’s a clever way to communicate in an environment where being open is socially frowned upon.”

“Bah.”

She scoffed, not convinced, and turned the page.

“A rose changes its meaning according to the colour. It makes no sense.”

“A letter can stand for two different sounds as well, making equally little sense.”

Radha huffed through the nose, shaking her head. Not convinced at all. Solas chuckled some more, and bent to press a kiss on the side of her head.

“Would you like to try?”

She turned to him, raising one eyebrow in a silent and very disappointed question that, apparently, just amused him more.

“Just to see if it makes sense in the end, or if it’s fun.”

“Crittography is fun and doesn’t require the death of a plant.”

“It’s far less beautiful, tho.” He countered. “The brief time a flower is allowed to bloom adds to its meaning. Even if its life is brief, it’s not less precious. All the more so for it. And the sentiment attached keeps on even if the petals wilts. I find it quite poetic.”

Radha shrugged, seeing the point of his words but not fully agreeing with it. She settled herself more comfortably against his side. If he was in a mood for explanations and reading and not for painting, it was fine with her. Aisling had rubbed off her too much for Radha to not have picked up that love was in touch.

A slender arm clutched her closer, another kiss made her lips curve up in a smile, and she turned another page, deciding she may as well indulge him. If not just to prove it wrong. It didn’t work for Cullen and Aisling, she didn’t see why it should work for her. But if he wanted to try…

“As you wish.”

“I will think of something.”

She shrugged it off, and went on reading, trying to figure out if the whole thing had some sense upon it. But no matter how much she read, she just couldn’t figure out how one person could look at a bush of lavender and think of Distrust.

---

Radha found the first flower three days later, early in the morning when she walked out from her room.

On the ledge of the half wall, just in front of her door, he left her the Floriography book. In its pages he firmed the stalk of the first flower, shining white against the dark of the stone, tiny flowerets gently moving in the breeze that swept the Keep. She conceded herself half a smile, just for the care he took to leave her the guide as well. Shuffling through the pages, it was easy to find the flower she needed. It was a fairly common bloom and she of course knew its name well.

Lily of the Valley: Return of Happiness.

She rolled her eyes to the sky, but kept smiling, as she gently smelled the flower.

Silly and sappy.

She needed to find just the right answer. She was early anyway, she could spend ten minutes finding for something on the damn book.

Facing Aisling and asking her if she could please summon a very specific flower she had but a picture of in a book was another story. She hated to ask, and she knew that of her siblings, the one truly skilled with Creation magic was, without a hint of a doubt, Pavyn. But, she didn’t really trust other mages on such a personal matter, their brother was miles and miles away, and Aisling would have had to do. Even if she smirked with a horribly knowing smile at her. Saying nothing, and at the same time saying everything.

Radha groaned at it, Aisling laughed, and she gave her the flower she had asked anyway, telling her to come anytime for the next. This looked like an important mission, and had the priority, surely.

The flower was left on his desk right after, during lunch.

Ostwick Spiderwort: Momentary Happiness.

Because she was playing the game, but she was playing to prove it silly.

They went on for days, leaving flowers to each other back and forth, in places each one knew the other would have found it and know whom it was from.

When they met, they never spoke about them, of course: the fun was in the secrecy of it, and talking about the flowers would have broken the game.

Solas left her a White Periwinkle: Pleasures of Memory.

Radha shook her head and oomphed, found just the right flower, and pushed Aisling to create it anyway even if she disagreed with her choice of proving a point.

“Can I at least tell him I disagree with-”

“No, Shrimp.”

“Oomph.”

Tevinter Plum, for Privation.

He didn’t say anything, but looked at her funny that evening, raising just one eyebrow as he saw her, in a silent question. She rose one of her own, challenging him to say something. He smiled under his breath and spoke of something else.

The next morning, there was a jonquil in a small glass jar on her spot at Leliana’s table. Leliana smirked knowingly, but all she had to say at the third time she looked at the plant – just to check the jar wasn’t staining the map it rested upon, of course- was:

“It means ‘I desire a return of affection’.”

Radha groaned and urged everyone -who was horribly giggling at her, to get back to work, they had no time to lose in silliness and flowers.

She wasn’t ready to give in so early, so her choice was, and at that Aisling giggled in mirth. Not that Radha minded.

A Lady’s slipper: Win me and wear me.

To which the answer was quick:

Saffron Crocus: Mirth.

Radha smiled at it, and mirth was what she felt. Before the cook saw her with that particular flower in her hand and yelped, asking her where did she found it and if there were others, if there were enough they could have saffron for free and-

Flowers were dangerous, Radha decided, running for her -and mostly for Solas’ life from an overeager cook that would have demanded the mage to grow her a field of crocuses daily, if she had caught her and coaxed a name out of her.

The next flower, she found it herself in the garden, growing spontaneously in the meadows. A fitting answer, she thought, returning to the rotunda just to slip it behind his ear, with a briskness that masked some shyness out of inexperience. He turned, and she was out of the opposite door with just a glance of pink cheeks.

Wild Daisy: I will think of it.

When she finished with her training, patting dust away from her trousers after the Iron Bull threw her to the ground the fifth times as she was distracted by parrying Krem’s sword, his answer was in the scabbard of one of her daggers. For all she blamed this stupid flower thing for being silly and pointless -and it was silly and pointless and a waste of magic- the small twig with red lantern-like fruits brought a smile to her face, and made her forget that her back was sore and she fell badly on her shoulder.

Gooseberry: Anticipation

The game continued in the next days, and keeping a straight face when they were together became more difficult.

Radha thought she had a good control over herself: she wasn’t emotional in the way Aisling was, bursting into tears and smiling wide so everyone could partake in her emotions as well. She felt hers, but always kept them private. This new thing, tho, the expectation of seeing the hint of a coloured petal or of a leaf every way she turned, made her silly.

Her lips curled up in a smile almost automatically when she caught a glimpse of Solas, in a way she found silly and blamed herself for it. It happened to others, it happened to Aisling and Pavyn and Vyrina: it didn’t happen to her. It never did, and she wasn’t interested in having it happen. She was happy as she was.

And yet, seeing him smile back, something melting in his face, posture relaxing ever so slightly, took some of the disappointment away from her.

She left him a sprig of mezereon: Desire to please.

He answered with a white mignonette: Your qualities surpass your charme.

She was happy that he left it in her room, so nobody could see her blush. He wasn’t scarce in compliments, but she wasn’t really good at receiving them. Less of all in replying it: it felt… Too much, too soon, and she didn’t know what she should do.

After hours and hours of mulling it over, thinking if she was ready to be more direct and give a compliment back -he knew she admired him, what more could he want? Courtship was stupid. She decided that maybe not. She also decided that asking Aisling would have been a terrible idea if she didn’t want her sister to arrange with Leliana and Josephine a way to close them both in the same room with candles and rose petals and a chocolate cake so big no couple of living beings could ever dream of eating on their own… she may as well just offer him some sincerity back.

That would have worked better than Aisling setting them up, surely.

Amaryllis: Timidity.

She stayed the whole morning on pins and needles, uneasiness settling in the depth of her stomach in a way that was familiar of every time someone had requested something physical or emotional from her, and she just… Hadn’t it in her, and was made to feel in defect because in the field of love she wasn’t interested… Or in this case, when she surprisingly found herself interested, she needed to proceed slow.

He didn’t make her wait, tho: his answer was waiting for her in the war room, where she was expected for a recollection of the official plan to gather an entrance in the Emprise and Leliana had requested her presence.

A ceramic glass, stained with paint on the border -one of those he used for water when he painted, she knew- with clean water and a sprig of Evergreen Thorn, heavy with firey red berries.

Solace in adversity.

A consolation, and an acceptance. Aisling and Josephine looked at her, seeing the twig. Josie was worried, knowing probably the meaning of it, and asked her if everything was all right.

“Yes.” She answered. “Yes, it is.”

And she was fully sincere in her words.

The answer was fairly easy to find: it was Aisling’s favourite after forget-me-not, and it felt like a witty remark.

A tiger-lily on the top of his scaffolding, in the same glass: For once may pride befriend me.

She was up in the first story of the library, in the corner beside Aisling and Dorian to see his reaction. He turned the flower in his long fingers, and he heard him chuckle, as she had intended him to. He turned towards the nook with a sly smile, caught her eyes.

She felt the shiver of magic and the smell of ozone, and the next thing was something velvety and delicate caressing her right cheek. She startled to the side, thinking of something evil, for to her right there was just stone wall.

It was no demon what met her, but a single flower growing between two stones, and what velvety touched her was its leaf, spiky and sharp beneath delicate rosy and purple flowers.

“Can you go elsewhere before I puke with all this sappiness, please?” Dorian complained, groaning aloud.

“Hush, you!” Aisling giggled, swatting his arm aloud. “They’re cute, leave them be.”

“They’re getting sappier than you and Cullen, and I’m getting diabetes. Too much straight energy for me.” He groaned aloud, as if he was in pain, and let his bust fall heavily back, a wrist on his forehead for added dramatics. “I think I may die.”

Aisling hoomphed under his weight, collapsing back a little in surprise. A pile of books fell down under their combined weight, but they went on bickering about Radha one moment, their experiment the next. In the meanwhile, Radha had found which flower it was, and what did it mean. She snorted a laugh.

Oak leaved geranium: True friendship.

“See? Sappier by the minute, I swear!”

“Leave her be!”

It was, all in all, a nice afternoon full of laughter. And in all sincerity, all Radha could answer was but one flower.

Saffron Crocus: mirth.

It went on for some days more, and Radha slowly and carefully had to admit, if only to herself, that it was indeed amusing to go back and forth that way. No words, no grand declarations nor speech. Just colourful messages, well thought for their synthesis, to the point.

A bellflower in her glass, at breakfast: Gratitude.

Corn straw, deftly braided, between his quills: Agreement.

And then, after a day, when Radha was thinking he had stopped, they got through with it and had their fun but there was only so much they could tell each other through flowers -not thinking that she spent the day looking this way and that expecting a petal, a splash of colour in her field of vision… Another one that left her unsettled.

He had asked her if he could leave a couple of books he had meant to lend her directly in her room, instead of leaving them in the rookery where she was, and let her bring them back herself. She paid it little mind and told him yes, and in the evening, when she returned, there wasn’t just the four volumes of history on her desk. No.

There was a flower on her pillow, bright and colourful on the white of the sheets.

Ranunculus: You are radiant with charms.

Radha felt her breath grow short, the blow stronger this second time around, and she wondered if it was normal. She didn’t like this romance thing, she always felt like she was dancing without knowing the steps nor what he expected from her. This compliment thing… It left her uneasy and terribly, horribly seen.

Was it so bad, this insistence and being seen? Yes. But maybe… She didn’t mind being seen by Aisling, but Aisling had ways that were more delicate, and didn’t put a mirror in her face. This… A rational part in her calmly acknowledged that it was courtship, every animal did it. Birds flaunting coloured feathers to attract the female, hallas fighting for the same reason. Bonding gifts served the same purpose. Reproduction as the end goal. But this wasn’t that. She’s been clear that she wasn’t interested in that, she didn’t want children of her own, and she didn’t know if she would have ever been willing to try more intimacy than kisses. She never had the urge before, after all. He had been understanding and told her he didn’t mind it, he was happy with just whatever she had to give, and wouldn’t have asked for more.

It was the companionship, what she didn’t expect. It was the gratuitous appreciation of what she was, not what she could do, her qualities and skills. The way he listened to her and asked her opinion after long, long explanations, and seemed to value each and every of her words, remembered what she told and interpreted her ways for what they were, appreciated them. It was the smile he had just for her and the tender way his eyes would melt.

It was how her heart beat fast and how her mind could, if she tried, figure out the exact way he would have said “You are radiant with charms”, and how it made her horribly dizzy.

She prayed Aisling was in her room and was alone -she couldn’t face Cullen on this. Creators, asking one person was a lot.

Luckily, she was there and she was alone -made a weird face when Radha confessed she didn’t expect her to be, but was quick in changing the topic. In a way that told her that she didn’t want to talk about it, but still. They sat together on her bad, legs crossed, with all the curtains of the canopy drawn, it almost felt like an aravel: Radha spoke and Aisling listened with attention.

“It’s scary, isn’t it?” She asked in the end, an understanding smile on her face as she cupped her face to look at her in the eyes.

“What?”

“Falling.”

Radha glomped down. Was that it? Was it? All the fuss, all the chasing and sighing, all the novels and poetry, for this? For feeling dizzy and unsure? She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all, but something clicked true in her.

She nodded, feeling herself blushing madly.

“Yeah, I know, it’s shitty. Truly horrible.” Aisling agreed, moving forward and dragging her bust down to hug her shoulder, collecting the rogue against her frame. “It’s ok, tho. You can cut the game any time, there’s no obligation to answer. You already told him that you were shy, it’s ok. He won’t insist if you don’t want him to.”

Radha hummed, knowing she was right. It wasn’t anything serious, this game of theirs, anyway. The experiment had proven its point, she could call it out whenever she wanted.

And yet, that ranunculus…

“And- What if I wanted to?” She squeezed her eyes shut and drowned her face in the crook of Aisling’s neck.

Fingers started to thread in her hair, caressing and soothing, a kiss pressed on her cheek.

“Well, then. If you wanted to… You can be sincere about why you don’t want to reply. What about it?” Aisling asked. “Is there another flower for shyness?”

There was, they discovered after running all the way down to Radha’s room and the book. And checking also what Dandelion meant now because Aisling decided she may as well try it too, and “Cullen is definitely a dandelion”. She was very disappointed when she discovered that Dandelions meant “Rustic oracle” (“What does that even mean?? It makes no sense!” and Radha couldn’t but agree). But they found one for her as well, and it was with a sigh to get some courage, that she left it on his desk, very early in the morning.

Peony: Bashfulness, shame.

As embarrassing as it was, that was what she felt.

Waiting for an answer, after all, was still better than dreading answering in the first place. She had work to distract herself with and… Was that Cullen with a crown of dandelions on his head the one Varric and Sera were whistling at?

She had work to distract herself with.

The answer came soon enough, thankfully, and it calmed her down considerably.

A twig with leaves of white poplar: Time.

She smiled at it, relieved in her anxieties. The perfect answer, really, and she felt silly, now, for doubting him so. He gave her time, and time was what she needed. With a fuller heart and a calmer mind, and more faith in the future, she gently pressed one of the leaves in her notebook, as a keepsake, and went on with her day.

Her answer was a columbine: Foolishness.

She felt a little foolish for worrying so, truth to be told, and if sincerity paid off… Why not keeping up? Maybe it would have brought something else of good, while she tried to unwind the ball of yarn her feelings and thoughts got wound up into.

She had time, yes.

The next one was another leaf. One she knew fairly well, and which spoke thankfully more of him than on her.

Arbor Blessing: Unchanging friendship. Live for me.

Radha knew, turning the trail in her hand and rubbing the leaves between two fingers to release the balsamic perfume of them. Surely he meant just the first meaning of it. He was the first one to say she should pursue other interests and friendships that weren’t him. With a dedication she didn’t really understand.

That little slip tho… That little inattention, finding something with a meaning so contrary to whatever he ever told her.

Maybe he was equally bashful about this whole endeavour. Thinking of it, he always spoke of her and her qualities, what he saw in her. Never of what he himself was feeling more deeply than expressing friendship. Before this one. This one little slip that…

Maybe she was reading too much into it. But he was always so precise and careful, measuring his words with such attention, that Radha found hard to believe that he just read half the definition.

Weirdly enough, that little slip made her heart beat, but not with the anxiety of those days before. No. This time it was tenderness, and recognition.

If he was bashful too… Maybe she really had nothing to fear.

Maybe she already had fallen, and she didn’t realise she already landed.

Beside, her mother didn’t raise a quitter.

So, she marched to Aisling and asked her one last flower. This time, knowing perfectly well what she wanted.

The next morning, Solas found a thin vase on his desk, in a corner as if it had been always been there.

Inside, sprouting tall and proud, one single purple lily.

First emotion of love.

Radha, that evening, got back into her room to find not one flower, but a full bouquet. It was just one bloom, and it filled the room with a pleasant, sweet perfume.

Lily of the valley: Return of happiness.

She smiled wide, didn’t mind he entered her room without asking, and let her treacherous heart keep her awake for long, that evening.

Enjoying the sweet smell of lily of the valleys for the brief and precious moment while it lasted, and maybe understanding a little better why people gifted flowers.

Why Lavender meant Distrust, tho, she never understood.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #solavellan #solasxlavellan #da fanfic #dai #writing petrel #radha lavellan #and look this is probably the first thing I can properly tag as solavellan!#(flower language means absolutely nothing to me either if you were asking)#(why lavender means distrust?? WHY??)#oh yeah she's ace #and definitely demiromantic

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