#for those that are chronically online

[rambheem-is-real]

Hurts So Good- Epilogue

pt 1, pt 2

warnings: implied NSFW, implied past dubcon

-

Varadha stands at the edge of the Khansaar palace’s balcony, watching the bustle of the city in the morning. There’s a cup of coffee that he forgot about before it went cold next to him. 

Usually, looking at the citizens, his thoughts are filled with his duties for the day, but lately he’s only been able to think about one thing.

One person, rather. 

It’s been four years since Varadha captured Deva from Tinsukia. 

Two years of feigning hatred and annoyance, of pretending his heart didn’t flutter every time Deva so much as looked at him, and another two years of gradually dropping the pretense. 

He didn’t bother Deva much, nowadays. They would mostly just talk, about inane things. Both avoided the mess that happened seven years ago. Sometimes one of them would bring up something the other did as kids, and they’d share a small smile before remembering and looking away. And occasionally Varadha did take Deva to bed, just to keep up appearances. It was getting harder to ignore what he was doing, though. 

Deva had made a life for himself, in the little city that he had hidden in. Varadha had sent his men to inquire in the beginning, and found out that Deva was a mechanic, that his mother was the local teacher, and that he loved to play daily with the children. Varadha had essentially kidnapped him from that life. Worse, Deva would never see the woman he loved again, not unless he left Khansaar. Varadha knows the pain of separation from a lover, knows the agony of what Deva might have been feeling these past few years. He was familiar with it in the seven years after Raja Mannar’s death, of course. And Deva did get… physically aroused by him. But Varadha was well aware that he probably never wanted to be in the situation in the first place, and that it was probably a natural bodily reaction to any pleasure, even the masochistic kind. 

Varadha had acted selfishly, and now was keeping his Deva prisoner, forced to obey Varadha’s emotional and physical whims. But what choice did he have? The Khansaar court would have called for Deva’s head, for breaking the seal, otherwise. He was able to pacify them by convincing them that this was a far worse punishment. And that was true, Varadha can tell Deva thinks of his mother every day. He doesn’t even want to think about how much Deva probably misses that girl. 

Lately, he’s been trying to leave subtle hints. Telling Deva routes to sneak out of the city, under the guise of improving security. Leaving all of the palace doors unlocked at night, safety be damned.

But Deva never seems to get the idea. He’s always just… there. Hanging behind Varadha, like a shadow. Varadha doesn’t know what his plan is, assumes he’s trying to get close to kill him one day. Well, Varadha wouldn’t object to that. He hates the throne, he hates ruling, he hates this place, but it’s not like there’s anyone else he trusts to take his position. The only positive is that he has the man he loves, but the pain of knowing he’s hurting Deva takes that away as well. 

Varadha’s so lost in thought he doesn’t notice Deva coming up behind him. A fresh berry scent hits his nose as he glances to his side and sees the pomegranate that Deva’s hands are deftly starting to peel. He swallows and looks back to the city. He has to tell Deva, somehow. If he has to throw away his pride and be completely honest about it, he’ll do it. 

Varadha takes a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with the man to the right of him. 

“Rey,” he starts, then stops, heart hammering. He doesn’t know what he wants to say, actually. 

Deva’s observing him. “What?” Varadha hesitates, and Deva frowns. “Seriously, what?” He leans in, and Varadha has to control his breathing. “Let me guess, you suddenly hate pomegranates?” It’s meant to be a joke, but Varadha can hear worry underneath. He hates this, hates that Deva still cares enough, somewhere, that he can feel worried for his captor. 

“You can leave anytime you want,” Varadha whispers. He still doesn’t look to his side. 

“...What are you talking about?”

Varadha closes his eyes, and leans his chin on the railing. This is it. This is the moment Deva will leave, and Varadha will be alone again. Just as he’s been for most of his life. “I only wanted to save you from dying. And I… I was selfish enough to want you. But it was wrong. You can leave whenever you want, I won’t stop you. Go back to your girlfriend, get married, whatever. I don’t care. Just leave.” Varadha’s glad his eyes are closed, because he can feel tears behind his eyelids. Once Deva leaves, he can have his full breakdown. 

There’s a long pause before Deva speaks. “Arey, picchoda [crazy man].” The slightly amused tone and the insult makes Varadha frown. He still can’t open his eyes though, Deva would see the tears. He can’t have that. 

“Just leave! Why are you still here? I promise I won’t chase after you.” Even though he’d want to, so badly.

Deva keeps going, in that same damned tone. “Are you drunk? Who let you drink this early?” Varadha hears Deva pick up the coffee cup, and suddenly get serious. “Did someone spike this?”

Varadha breaks. He slides down the railing to sit, head in his hands, trying to muffle the sobs. 

Deva sighs, and sits down right next to him. He peels a wet hand off of Varadha’s face, and Varadha braces for a blow but freezes as something is placed into the hand. 

He looks down at a handful of pomegranate seeds. “What?”

“Eat. They’re very juicy today.”

“What the fuck?”

Deva sighs again. “Varadha. Bangaram. Do you really think I couldn’t have gotten out of here myself if I wanted? Especially after you started unlocking every door in the palace after you thought I went to sleep? That was a security nightmare, by the way, Baba’s nearly tearing what’s left of his hair out over it every night.”

Varadha’s head whips up at the term of endearment, and he’s more confused than ever. “So why didn’t you leave before?”

“Why did you think I wanted to?”

Varadha frowns, now getting frustrated. Does Deva think he’s a fool? “That girl. Your lover.” He spits out. “Your mother. I’ve separated you from your home, from your family.”

At that, Deva winces. “Ok, so, I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t get mad.”

“What?”

Deva peels some more pomegranates, making sure Varadha’s chewing on another handful (who idly wonders if they’re poisoned and this is how Deva’s trying to kill him), before he finally speaks again. “So I never was in love with the girl.” He shrugs. “I don’t even remember her name now, to be honest. And my mother’s probably better off without me, anyway.”

Curse the tree of a man next to him, Varadha has to wait until the damned seeds are down his throat before he can reply to that revelation. “So then why the fuck would you lie to me about that?”

Deva chuckles, but it’s a nervous chuckle. The one he used to have as a kid when he set up a prank for Varadha but realized too late that Varadha was in a bad mood and would probably just get mad at him for the prank instead of laughing back. Varadha narrows his eyes. Wait.

“... You never said you loved her.”

Deva goes back to his pomegranate. “Exactly,” he says, still acting defensive. “If you made assumptions based on a simple ‘Leave her alone’ that’s not my problem.” 

“So remind me again why you did stay then?” 

Deva winces again. “Because I love you.” He clears his throat and continues, not letting Varadha sit with that, “I’d be fine with being anywhere, doing anything, as long as it meant I’d be with you, raa. There’s nothing that’s happened in the last few years that wasn’t consensual.” He peels the last few seeds, puts them in Varadha’s frozen hand, and slumps. “I know you still care about me. I know that the hatred you have for me is only a mask. And I know you don’t love me in the same way as I love you, raa” He takes a deep breath. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I’m content to just love you like this, like I’ve done my entire life.” He makes a movement to get up, like he wants to run away, and Varadha acts. 

Varadha yanks him back down, and punches Deva’s shoulder. 

“Ow, what-”

“Sachinoda [you dead man],” Varadha spits, and throws the rest of the seeds over the balcony. He needs both hands free, of course. He takes Deva’s face in between his hands and kisses him so hard he ends up knocking Deva flat on his back, and doesn’t let up until Deva starts tapping his wrist for air. 

They both sit up. While Deva gasps for breath, Varadha takes a second to just think. 

For four years, Varadha had been feeling like he was slowly torturing Deva. He had been feeling so guilty he almost lost his appetite, had had his thoughts consumed by what pain Deva might be going through. 

And the whole time, Deva was just… what, chilling with him? Not even thinking to tell Varadha of his feelings?

Deva’s gasps turn into laughs, and Varadha hits him again, feeling very much like a sulking cat. 

“I take it we were both being idiots, and you do love me back?” Deva grins, and Varadha has to fight very hard to not kiss him again at the sight of his beautiful smile. 

He just glares instead, not bothering to answer, and Deva breaks into laughter again. He reaches for Varadha to kiss his forehead, runs his lips down the black bottu covering Varadha’s forehead, presses a short kiss to the base of his nose where the mukku pogu dangles, and finally, when he finds what he wants in Varadha’s eyes, kisses his lips once more. 

Once they break apart, Varadha glares again, clutching Deva’s shoulders so hard he knows it probably hurts. “Forget everything I said earlier,” he orders. “You’re not leaving, ever. You’re stuck with me until we both grow old and look like walnuts. If you even try to set foot outside these gates without me I’ll kill you.” 

Deva just smirks. “Ah, I was wondering when mean Varadha would make an appearance again. I’ve missed him recently.” 

Varadha pushes Deva on his back again, now holding both of Deva’s wrists above his head, and straddles him. “I’ll fuck you right here on this balcony if you keep that up, I don’t care who sees,” he warns. 

“Jokes on you, I’m into that shit.” The smirk turns into something much softer. “I’m yours, raa. Whatever you want.” They both know he’s not just talking about sex. 

Varadha struggles to keep his own smile hidden as he leans down for another kiss, imagining the many decades they’ll have in the future, to spend together. 

-

tags: @deadloverscity @sambaridli @sometimesbrave @just-a-lazy-person @vijayasena @mad-who-ra @umbrulla @jitterbugbetty @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @sinistergooseberries @tulodiscord @varadevaficrecs @hum-suffer @nini9224 @varadevlawyer @looseukitty @astraswades and all the other lovelies in the server whose usernames i'm forgetting rn 🫶🏽

[serialunaliver]

ok but booktok is actually deranged and i'm talking about how they act not even the books. like these people will go into the comments section of random videos of a guy biking or playing guitar and like sexually harass him because he's booktok coded or whatever. some creators of this content started pandering to booktok for views after but others have literally come out and said "hey this is extremely weird and uncomfortable" or even stopped posting because of it

[lightasthesun]

hey guys where should I go to get checked out for chronic fatigue syndrome...

[lil-shiro]

Live Lance panicking cause he thought Nando was leaving him alone 🥹

[dolokhoded]

hi. my friend sent me this

the korean means "one, two, three! hello, [this is/we are] d12ciples!". i just need other people to look at it

d12ciples. goodbye i love this. boy band !

[sinful-lanterns]

MY MOM SAW ELEVEN AND SAID "WHAT THE FUCK SHE LOOKS LIKE AN GHOST. WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER" 😭😭😭😭😭

I KNEW IT 😭

My headcanon about people thinking she is a ghost whenever she goes outside, is RIGHT. I mean, Eleven is super pale, has white hair, dark circles under her eyes. If I saw her I’d think she was on the verge of death as well 😨

…Doesn’t make her any less cute, though. Poor Eleven, someone give her some natural light and a smoothie. Then place her in your bed, tuck her in, and give her a goodnight kiss so this woman can FINALLY SLEEP FOR ONCE—

[ugh-yoongi]

Ok, a few things:

1. Thank you for saying something about Jimin's collab with Kodak. For DECADES Black women have been asking women of other races to show up for them, especially when they show up for us. Female kpop fans love to pat themselves on the backs for being "enlightened" and are quick to stand up against any anti-Asian racism. But historically when Black women have asked kpop fans for solidarity, or criticise a kpop idol for anti-Black behavior there is the sound of crickets from kpop fans, or what-aboutism, or outright vicious attacks on these women. All of which tells me that these folks should probably stop talking about what fabulous allies they are in the fight against racism because their actions put the lie to their words.

Kodak has very publicly and disgustingly raped and abused Black women AND girls for years. So I'm very glad that somebody in the general K-pop and BTS specific fan bases is saying something. I know that isn't easy sometimes in a fanbase that can rabidly attack internal critique.

2. For the anon who accused you of Islamaphobia... I'm seeing red. Labour Rights organizations all over the WORLD decried and protested that World Cup en masse. Human rights organizations protested that World Cup en masse. Queer rights organizations protested that World Cup en masse. And they had very good reasons to do so.

Let's just focus on the whole queer rights thing as this fanbase loves to consume fics about the BTS members having sex with each other. Being queer is illegal in Qatar with a prison sentence of up to 5 years in jail (and Qatari prisons are no fucking joke) and a heavy fine. The death penalty can be used to punish them vis a vis their legal code. However, while there are no verified uses of the death penalty being used in this manner there, there are verified accounts of torture being applied to queer prisoners in the Qatari prison system just for being queer. There are also verified reports of extrajudicial killings of queer Qatari people. For heaven's sake queer Qatari people were making videos BEGGING people to not support that World Cup.

That's not Islamaphobic, that's demanding human rights abuses stop.

As a bisexual woman, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saying something about JK going there and being critical of that choice. Lot's of folks want to sexualize my community and proclaim themselves allies, but when real action or taking a stand is needed, they abandon us. So thank you. Again, in a fanbase that can viciously attack internal critique, you said the right thing and don't seem to care about other people's shitty opinions on that.

That means something real. 🌹

thank you for taking the time to write all of this. i'm just going to leave it as-is and hope it reaches others. <3

[littleroott]

donghua jinlong industrial grade glycine is tiktok’s goncharov and i stand by this

[backtodecember]

fully aware i’m screaming into the void here but like why’s it so trendy to be so cynical these days. why do people seem to enjoy tearing things apart. like it makes me genuinely sad

[newvegasceo]

i realize how little i have in common with my peers simply because im not constantly on tik tok/instagram/facebook 👴

[daydadahlias]

i hate how mean everyone’s being to ashton on twitter. i might have to delete it or at least block his name for a bit, it’s making me sad

dw pookie, as ur superior, i give u full permission to delete twitter <3

[burning-sol]

My most controversial thing I could say in this Tumblr circle is that I'm actually kind of tired of people who are excluding Harry Potter fans and telling them not to interact with our anti-J.K Rowling spaces, because that's the one sure way that you let a fandom space get overrun by bigots. It also isn't even advocating for anything, it's just "fuck you for liking the art everyone enjoyed before the person was outed as bad". Cos' if that's just your personal boundary, that's fine, but it's not exactly a comprehensive stance moreso than it is "fuck you".

If Harry Potter fans interact with me, I don't care if you like HP, but I do care if you're not being proactive in combating bigotry. I do care if you let bigots into your space. I do care if you're not critical of the books. I do care if you spend your money on Harry Potter merchandise rather than sharing pre-owned copies, if you wear your HP scarf without considering wearing a trans patch to go with it, if you don't speak up to say that Harry Potter was written by a shitty person who is actively trying to take people's rights away.

Put an ugly DNI on your posts, blog about all your POC and queer headcanons for characters, just do your part to make sure everyone knows J.K Rowling is not a good person and you don't tolerate bigots in your space.

Okay that's the end of my rant.

[katsigian]

[ef-1]

we need to abolish the church of wag worship

[toesuckler]

in the era of "gay men cant say dyke/id as femme" and "transguys cant say femboy" i think we need to recognize ppl dont ask your identity before they call you a slur.

[trangenderstan]

Ironically, there needs to be more actually blind Stan Blind Faith content. For some reason it’s so hard to find a single fic of Stan actually just. Not seeing anything. Having to learn to navigate his surroundings with one of the most important organs rendered useless. It would be such a great character arc, for him to start out hating the development, thinking his life is ruined forever, but then as time passes realize that with all his struggle some advantages came as well. He can hear better, he can feel better, the world around him is different now. And as much as he wishes to see it again, he learns to adapt. To live and to thrive and to enjoy life in his own way. I just feel like it’s such a powerful story to tell instead of bringing him back to zero with a prosthetic or, even worse, having his sight just magically come back