#heavy devy

[the-new-hip-priest]

Strapping Young Lad // Shitstorm Alien [2005]

[yamoksaucebodyshots]

Devin townsends lightworker is one of the worst concepts I've ever come across.

(Junius' eternal rituals for the accretion of light handled the concept way better imho)

[devis-nonsense-n-shitposting]

it's always so nice to see someone perfectly normal about castlevania ! just like me ! so normal ! normal ! normal normal ! the normalest !

I am SOOOooo incredibly normal about this show. I'm just a regular little guy who is so perfectly normal about Castlevania

I say this while gripping my desk shaking and on the verge of tears about to cry and scream about Alucard for the 100th time this month

[dhallblogs]

NITI Aayog announces revised composition.

New Delhi: The National Institution for Transforming India (NITI Aayog) has unveiled its revised composition, aimed at enhancing its strategic leadership and effectiveness. The Indian government has reconstituted the National Institution for Transforming India (NITI Aayog), with Prime Minister Narendra Modi remaining as the chairperson and economist Suman K Bery continuing as the vice-chairperson.

ALSO READ MORE- https://apacnewsnetwork.com/2024/07/niti-aayog-announces-revised-composition/

[space-blue]

*heavy breathing* it's happening!

At long last!! We don't have all the stories recorded, and we're still hard at work on this project, but we now have enough back up to start posting! And that means... That we are launching the Zevlor Sleep Stories this Friday!!!

Episode #1 is ready to go!!! This is only the title card art, by the lovely @cinnasalmon ! It'll introduce every video in the series. Then past the title card, a surprise first artist aaaaanndd... My own short story!

It was the first recorded by Glen all the way back when, so I'm very hype and eager for everyone to enjoy it. Glen's reading is so great, it actually makes checking him for misspeaks/missing sentences super hard. We struggle not to fall asleep working on this project.

We will upload videos every Friday as long as we have them lined up. And very soon we'll have Omeluum too, with a delightful voice filter made by Devi.

If you're hype and want to sign up ahead of time to get the notification, here's a link to the (currently empty) channel!

Even if you don't care much for Zevlor or Omeluum, lots of the stories are fantastic DnD tales written by talent fic authors, and meant to soothe you as you fall asleep. If you're a big fan of BG3 or DnD, come and check it out!

P.S: reminder that there'll be no ads and no revenue of any kind. It's a project by fans for fans, and even Mr. McCready is a fan in this context. So don't be shy with liking and subscribing as we go on, you'll only be increasing exposure for the project <3

[darkdemeter]

AUGURIES OF LOVE & DYNASTY

◤✘WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN | Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader ISSUE NO.#4

NOTES: ↳ Another little smut trial for you guys and the pup/family dynamic, most of all I'm testing out my strengths and weaknesses and what my limitations are; and if they can maybe be improved on. GN smut is rather tricky for me to really get into the groove of if I'm being honest. That doesn't mean I'll stop writing for GN entirely but I may have to find a work around. Not only that but I fucking LOVE writing the angst, hardened wolf most of all with Wanda. Fuckin' love the angst and shit... so soft stuff like this is kinda a small bone in the mix but my main go to is the more hurt and angst genre, that and the tension, the build up for me is just *chef kiss*. But little a/n rant over. Enjoy! WARNINGS! ↳ fluff content — wolf family and pups — pregnant Wanda — SLIGHT SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI* — clawed fingering — sliver of breeding or pregnancy kink? — remote location — minor and implied torture and stuff (left to reader's interpretation) — mention of scars — profanity — use of Y/N — named pups — I think that's it? SUMMARY: ↳ Another morning rises over the snowy peaks. Your home in the wilds is peaceful and undisturbed. This winter, your first litter of pups are eager to begin to live as the young wolves of your dynasty. Meanwhile, Wanda happily carries your second litter.

✎ 2.9k

@alexawynters

↳ WANDA MAXIMOFF TAGLISTS

────────────────┘

Your very heart beats in time with the earth, each heavy footfall of the paw echoes beneath. Your blood runs alongside the rushing current of rivers. The chill of snow sinking under your weight feels familiar in contrast to unclean pavement. 

Sunlight bleeds over yonder just beyond the snowy mountain peaks. The amber glow of its rays paint an overlay over the blue and black tinted landscape littered with white. Branches above shiver in the breath of winter and birds chirp amongst each other, calling out in the early morning. You stalk the hidden and unmarked path now all knowing of where it leads you. When another breeze sweeps across the river beds below, its chill runs along the fur of your back with a hollow greeting. 

Still, you continue to walk at your own leisure, enjoying the pleasantries of the wilds offered to you. Sanctuary is a place where one feels safe, away from the harms of the world beyond. Everywhere you have been there have been many great dangers. It was high time to return home to that sanctuary and your loved ones with you. 

Your fur is dotted with a feathered dusting of white flakes, the shift in your weight occasionally shakes your coat to a near-cleansed appearance. Your long tail sways in motion to your movement, every so often lifting when a pair of small, sharp teeth graze it in hopes to play. 

The pitter patter follow behind you with adoring loyalty and familiarity, your station the highest ranking, one earnt of respect and reverence since day one. 

But still, there remains the habit of play. To take in the world around them, piece by piece; gathered in their clutches of their curious, short muzzles. 

In your journey to scout out the territory you take a minute to admire the scenery, a specular luxury granted to you for your unwavering protection to the land. You stand atop the lifted rise of dark stone layered and moulded together by the force of nature. A perfect spot to use as a vantage point. 

Your cluster of pups, the first litter of many to come, whine and yelp together in their time of playing, small paws scraping across the hardened surface. Keena and Leo engage one another in a mock fight. Their teeth pulling and tugging each other by the scruff and ears, Leo barks in retaliation when Keena becomes a little too rough. 

With a snort, Keena wanders closer to you whilst Leo is entertained by his other siblings. Curious as Keena was to find whatever it was that grasped hold of your attention, there is still much to see, to smell and explore. She devises a plan and bows her body in preparation, tail wagging from side to side when your lips curl up in warning. A rumble bellows from the cavity of your large chest, steam clouds across your dark nose. 

Keena’s plans are disrupted and with a tucked tail, she submits and sits between the pillars of your front limbs. Not too long are the remainder of your pups under your protective stature but with a summoning huff, you beckon them to follow after you. 

They’re still new to the changes of their wolf bodies, uneven on their paws as they keep their best of balance, tricky as it might be. You sure don’t make it look easy but the grace of your form inspires them to not give in. They’re determined to share this side of their bloodline with you. 

To be as steady as you, as dangerously graceful and practised as you. 

The sun shines higher now and the world has grown a tad bit warmer, if only a little. That doesn’t mean your pups still endure the cold without sacrifice, shivering with a series of pitiful whines of complaint. But they have the heat of your body to thank for warming them during the trek back home, their small bodies lined down your back, nuzzling further into the thicket of your winter coat with content sighs. 

They fared better this time around before the tiredness in their bodies wore them down. 

You near the wooden refuge you call den and with a newfound surge of eagerness, your pups leap from the towering height of your back and race for the front door. Keena is the first to change back and pound her small fists on the door with utter demand that the door be opened, yet unable to reach the doorknob herself. 

When you reach the pile up of your offspring waiting impatiently at the door, having now shifted back into the second skin not covered in fur, you reach forward and push the door open for them. Relieved to be out of the cold they charge into the house and down the stretch of hallway.

“Mama! Mama!” They bark and yell, the beckoned person answering their cries exits the kitchen. Her green eyes meet them with a light akin to a lighthouse, bright and burning in the lone distant night to call them home. 

Her wide smile stretched open to reveal the row of pearly white teeth assures them that their mother’s love sparks ever true, no matter the time nor place, that their eagerness for her attention remains just the same as any other. 

“My pups,” she greets softly. She bends down to meet them, arms warm and inviting to her embrace. Leo snuggles tightly against her chest when Keena tugs at the nape of his neck. “Careful! Our siblings are in her tummy.”

Truer words had never been spoken by one of your young ones. The second litter of your dynasty resides safe and snug in the large bulb of Wanda’s womb, nursing them until their eventual birth into the pack. 

“Did you enjoy yourselves?” Their mother asks them, focusing one each of their round, devoted eyes that marvel her loving gaze. She made each of them feel equally special. They nod and hum, undoubtedly smiling from ear to ear as she entertains them.

You linger back in the hallway to simply take in the picturesque of it all as your pups recount their adventure with you this morning. The smile of your wife is oh so sweet, a sculpted visage of unmatched beauty to beat against your brutality. 

Often you do as you’re doing now. Sit back and observe your family. The intimate nature of mother and pups is always a favoured sight of yours, how tender she caters to them and how they bask in the wonderment of their mother; the woman who gave them life and brought them into the world through darkness and pain. 

She endured the months of labour for them. Forever, a mark of her true strength and courage and pure love. 

All you simply do is admire and love her in return, despite it being incapable of comparison. She carried the first litter without complaint or regret and she’s a soldier for the second litter. Unfazed by the barrage of kicks and movement within the womb, pups fighting for room amidst their growth. 

Truly a marvel. A woman who you happily call wife and mate. Your arms fold over your chest, the corners of your lips tilted up as you continue to observe from afar. That’s when Wanda’s eyes finally meet yours and that hunger within the glaze of green ignites your own. You growl deeply under your next exhaled breath.

‘The moment I get you alone…’

Wanda smirks at you with a cheeky glint you know well, but her attention is stolen by your pups once again. She rises to her feet, hands held to her large bump, she beckons the pups to sit at the dining table. You don’t miss the flash of scarlet warning you that your presence is mandatory.

With a submissive shrug to her silent order you follow behind. But you pause just as you pass one of the frames, reflection faint in the glass. Your eyes scan the faces of those you left back in the city for your remote life with Wanda in the wilds of your sanctuary. They were not forgotten nor were they truly left behind in the past forever. You plan to visit them sometime and vice versa, but plans become muddled and complicated in the matter of saving the world. 

A feat that took its hefty toll on you. Never one to consider yourself the type to retire, it was for the best. There, the wolf was caged to fight, moving from one fight to the next it seemed or to be confined in a cell; seen as an animal unworthy of complete trust. 

The ring of skin around your neck is still marred in its process to heal. For how much longer is undetermined but the pain tied to it left you no choice but to resign yourself to the wilds of home. 

And Wanda would come with you. 

Now here you are, sitting around the table together as Wanda fixes you both your morning coffees while your children devour their plates in record time, their mother scolding them to chew their breakfast. Keena’s face had already been stained with the sticky substance of syrup from her pancakes, Leo and Tymon opting to race each other while eating their cereal and the youngest of their litter, Peeta munches on a piece of buttered toast. 

You never really had an appetite in the winter morning - if you didn’t count Wanda that is - you often kept to a simple coffee to be your wake up call. Wanda’s lips meet your hairline for a quick, affectionate peck, hand sliding your mug onto the table. But you have other plans. With a husky growl you pull her into your lap.

“Y/N!” she yelps in surprise. Her laugh fills the room as a joyful prophecy. Your pups cannot contain their own comings of laughter as well at the loving sight of their parents sharing in one another’s orbit for a short moment. 

Wanda swats at you with a hand but you remain adamant she stays in your lap. “I have dishes to wash up,” she argues only for you to shake your head, nose nestling her mark. “We can do that together afterwards. Let me hold you a while.”

How can she resist your wolfish charms? You purr in your victory when Wanda gives in, knowing just how much she loves it deep down; to be held in your protective arms and your exploring hands wandering over the curve of her bump. 

You feel the pups kick and push against the wall of her womb to greet your hands. Their desire to touch grows stronger by the day, it was due to happen any day now. 

Wanda sighs softly and you join her in watching your pups eat together, talking amongst themselves for their planned activities for the day. Wanda’s hands fall over the top of yours and her fingers dance over the cool surface of your wedding band. 

The overly large size of her winter sweater leaves the skin of her shoulder exposed for your lips to ghost across it, causing a shiver to run the length of her spine.

“You’re getting me excited,” she whispers to you and your smirk, fangs speaking over the bottom of your lip. “Good. Just how I want you, Honey.”

Wanda pushes her body against yours in the midst of her battling desire, the action screaming desperation. And you weren’t one to refuse your wife - your mate - her pleasure. After all, she was carrying your pups. Your successors. 

Your dynasty. 

“Tell me what you want, mate,” you say against her lips. The kiss is heated and messy, tongues mingling together in the hot throw of combined passion. She whines softly and the sound causes your hips to jerk forward. 

“I want you…” you devour her words with a hungering growl. “I want you to touch me, please…”

There it was. She misses your touch. Exactly what you wanted to hear. Parting your lips from the kiss you chuckle, the sound dark and dangerous in your infatuation with the woman under you. 

“Good girl.”

Your fingers brush up her exposed thigh, her little maternal dress doing things to your wolf brain that made it go haywire with unbridled, primal desire. With a groan you push aside the damp fabric of her panties and use your thumb to circle her clit.

The quiver in her legs a telltale sign of her weakness for your touch, leaving her to turn into putty and you’d only just begun. “Is this what you wanted, mate? You wanted my fingers to be buried in you?” You taunt. 

“Please.” She continues to beg. You tilt you head, obvious in your torture to hear her beg for more, for what she craved.

“Please what?”

“I want your fingers inside me, oh fuck, please!”

Shit, her sounds are music to your ears. You use two fingers to smear the slick of her arousal along her awaiting entrance, her hips grinding with enthusiastic vigour. 

“Fuck, you look so good like this, baby. So needy for me.”

She mewls in response to your fingers teasing her cunt. She wants to feel your fingers stuffing her full, ploughing her tight tunnel until you’re all three knuckle deep fucking her. She wants to cum around your clawed fingers, to feel that dangerous and sharp coil that leads her right over the edge of bliss. 

The pools of her euphoria by your ministrations await her. 

“Let me feel your claws.”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” you drawl lowly, “I love it when you ask for the claws.”

You waste no more time. You push two fingers past her folds, her walls wet and welcoming and hot; tightly wrapped around your clawed digits. She moans sharply and her head leans back into the pillow. You thrust your fingers at a steady pace. You ensure that you reach the very end of your knuckles to reach as far as you’re able, your claws gently scrape her spongy walls, dragging moans from deep within her core. 

Wanda moans again when your fingers brush that sensitive, deep spot, her hips buck up to meet the next thrust of your hand in hopes of reaching it again. You chuckle again at the pure, chaotic need in her eyes that plead for you. 

“You want to cum around my fingers, mate?”

“Y-yes!” she can feel it in her core, the rubberband ready to snap with her climactic high. “Please, Y/N, please let me cum.”

“Go on, Sweetheart. Cum for me.” Her mouth falls apart just as she does around your thrusting digits, her teeth sink into the plush bottom of her lip to conceal the volume of her pleasured cries. Her fingers ring the sheets in an iron grip until she’s threatening to tear them apart. 

You whisper soft praises against the skin of her cheek with a smirk. Nobody knew the gorgeous visage of her face when she came, only you and that was a sight you’d treasure to the end of time. Nobody else would bear witness to the way her body silently begs for you, how she grinds and thrusts her hips in response to your electric touch. 

She breathes in deeply through her nose while you slow your fingers down, dragging her high out that little bit longer until you bring a complete stop. Fuck, how her swollen form looked utterly beautiful in the sunlit curtain of day, eyes clouded in their post-sex state, you slide a hand over the curve of her belly. 

“You look so beautiful like this,” you sigh with a wistful look, “so full of my pups.” Wanda can see the excitement grow in your eyes, that glow of amber unable to be hidden when your desire becomes well known. 

“Your pups,” she says in agreement. You hear the lust in her tone, the want for more evident. 

“Oh, little witch.” Wanda could’ve sworn she could cum again just from hearing your husky, lust-laced voice use the nickname. You lean over her until she is pinned between you and the bed; the two greatest comforts she could ever know. 

She smiles shyly up at you. “So fucking beautiful, so round with my pups. Our second litter.” She moans softly and her hands run through the mused length of your hair as you ravish her neck with love bites. The sensation tickles but once your teeth graze over her mark, her legs quiver together before they lock around your hips, already pulling you down to where you both connect so perfectly. 

“Fuck, I need you.”

“And I’ll give it to you.”

Before you can begin to tug down the waistband of your pants does Wanda stop you. Your amber hues glow brightly in interest to her sudden need to halt the sensual operation. You hum to her softly to urge her to continue. 

“I… I thought maybe we could try something a little different,” she says, biting her lip harder this time. Okay, now you’re fucking curious. “What is it?” 

She takes a moment and you see the hesitance in her eyes. She’s reconsidering saying anything but you lift her unsure eyes to meet yours. You offer a kind smile, one that she knows she can trust without fear, that you are on her side; always.

“Whatever it is, I’m game.” 

That’s all the remaining push she needs from you to ask. 

[rhiezus]

[CAR]: sender and receiver are making out in receiver's car // mei x hwan pega dispatch pegaaaaaaaaa

goosebumps on mei's body had nothing to do with the temperature that dropped to a deadly one outside, she was wearing a heavy sweater that kept her warm though it all, it was more so to do with how her palms intertwined so well with his all the way there. it was also to do with how he opened the door for her, how he complimented her on her looks, how his eyes looked twinkling telling her all about his practice today after he tried to spare her of the details but she reminded him of her own practices and they realized how similar it was for both of them. if mei tried just a little bit further she could maybe swear she could hear it. it was there happened at the same time his voice hit her ears with a stupid joke and her laugh came out of her throat completely random, the beating of their hearts. at first when he picked her up just a little outside of the dorm, a street down to be precised — her group-mates might not be as worried for dispatch or invited watchers but mei liked to keep what was hers private of other's people eyes — her heart was practically pulsing out of her body. this happened before on their last first date, she could barely believe how good it all felt and how little time has passed since them. was it a year? six months? no, it was two weeks ago but time passed so slowly. it seemed like every minute and second was being counted by her old grandfather that couldn't tell numbers anymore, but distance probably grew their heart founder. hwan texted her every morning, he send her pictures of the sky, talked about a song he listened that reminded him of her and every time he did one of those little things her heart fell out of her mouth again and again. so moments ago when the man responsible for such reaction was right before her again, the opportunity seemed way too unrealistic not to be seized. mei said hello with a kiss on his cheek, his face was as smooth as she imagined and that's when their hands found each other to his car.

dates with celebrities were like this, sitting in a car in a safe place moments away from your house, talking and flirting, maybe even eating. she remembered how devi said football players have their own place and how devi was all the time over with her own boy's space baptizing every surface. but hwan was a different kind of breed of football player though, for their first date they went to a night picnic. they ate chicken sandwiches and drank strawberry juice while watching the stars, their first kiss goodnight was just as sweet as that meal. but planning ahead or planning too much isn't on their agenda, it can't be, today that's good because they can met up on a saturday night just to listen to each other's voice and see each other's faces. it's not all so bad, there is a rush to it that no other romance has. mei is certain that no one has ever felt like this before, no one has ever fell in love so hard as she probably is right now and it all comes to a realization when her heart that was so loud before — now it's content, rhythmic like it found it's pace again. there is nothing more comfortable than coming home. the thought brings her to stop doing anything mid conversation, she is freezing again but this time of fear.

this is terrifying, hwan must notice her nervous stare because he pulls her back to reality by bring the all the warmth of his body to his hand, his palm touching her cheek. she fights back the urge to think about how it's a perfect fit, her face with his hand. "this is crazy." mei is chuckling now because it's all very insane to her liking, understanding taylor swift's songs comes with a very high price. when she hears his voice asking her what is, her eyes find his like is an obvious answer that maybe he already does know but wants her to say it anyways. then just how it came to her thoughts, it also comes out: "how i feel about you... it's crazy." because it is, nothing else can explain and right now neither of them wants to hear an explanation. it doesn't even matter if it has one. mei just wants to keep living in this dazzling dream they he is building for her, its scary as hell but she wants to keep dreaming it. perhaps that's why his answer comes in a kiss, parting their lips together as one proving that — yes, you're not alone, i'm feeling it too. feels right to be there feeling both his hands on her cheeks now, pulling her closer even though he is the one leaning forward to her seat. it's a little bit sudden and it's really hot in the car now, because she has no idea for how long they are going at it. a moment or so they spare for breathing, but the hands don't leave each other. mei's got a grip on his hair and the first time she pulled it, she could hardly believe the little sound coming from hwan's mouth still on her own. she was moments away to jumping on the backseat and letting her hands feel more parts of his body, but this thought made her settle the making out with a special smooch of her own, filled with sweetness.

despite every inside of her telling her to throw her conscious aside and give away to those lips she still had some sense of decency and of, well, virginity still in her the fear crippled in again, this time a little louder, she knew it might be time to be honest about it to the boy she was in love but she was still debating herself like she been for the last month since they started getting to know each other. she hoped he knew so she couldn't tell him, because this was a secret that made all her friends think she was insane or extremely prude. but none of that were true, she just never met someone like hwan before that she wanted to give herself completely too. and now that she did, he deserved to know even if she was mortified to tell him so. "maybe a car is not the best place to do all that." mei finally broke the silence after intense kissing scene they just acted upon, thankfully this lined up the mood because the conversation drifted to something else and they were comfortable with each other again. she made a mental note to come back to that later, right now she wanted to keep talking with him, noticing his lips regain his natural color and his hands fixing her hair for her. it was perfect moment to be just natural together, no pressure and no overly unnecessary sharing of intimate details because it was all there. in the way his eyes were watching over her and her thoughts were humming a song she hasn't heard yet designed specially with hwan in mind.

[overandundertarot]

What kind of love do you crave?

This reading is interested in finding out the kind of love you crave; what exactly does that entail?

piles 1 -5

PILE ONE;

Cards; Page of swords, Justice.

You are some one who is closed off in love. You have been afraid to get to know someone deeply and intimately, yet this is what you crave. You crave a love where you can be open and honest with your person. For them to see the real you and lay themselves bare in return. Healthy communication too, a love that can provide a foundation and support in your daily life. A love that can carry you through the dark times, ease you when you are stressed. The kind of connection where you spend all night talking to each other and have comfortable silences as well.

PILE TWO;

Cards; Queen of swords, 4 of cups reversed.

A new, exciting love. One that can help you move on from from past hurts and heartbreak. You have resolved not to let past experiences in love hold you back, and are determined to enjoy life to the fullest extent that you are able to. A new love that feels tender and sweet, even maybe somewhat innocent.

PILE THREE;

Cards; 5 of wands reversed, 8 of swords reversed.

A fighting dramatic love, one that can help you overcome your battles, or rises along with them. Heavy banter, snarky, witty. Enemies to lovers type of love. An active love, exercising together, competing toghether. There is this kind of tension where you can't quite put your finger on it and its giving you a rush of adrenaline. The kind of love that makes you change and challenges you to think differently. A lot of mental and intellectual stimulation, physical passion too. A couple thats coming to mind is Devi and Ben from Never Have I Ever.

PILE FOUR;

Cards; High Priestess, 7 of swords, 7 of pentacles.

The love you crave is one that compliments your life. You quite value the material world you have built and you want a love that can enable you to stand in your full power. You dont want a lover that would hold you down, as you are independent and feel that you need to have your breathing space. Fear not, with healthy communication it is entirely possible to achieve this. There are also messages that the type of love you crave may not be socially acceptable/ you feel you may have to keep it secret. Or the secrecy excites you. The energy of this pile is quite feminine, but heavily dominating. You may want to dominate your partner and dont care to conform to society's gender roles. Like a powerful blackwidow who guards her web and devours her conquests.

PILE FIVE;

Cards; High Priestess reversed, 2 of swords reversed.

Pile 5 you may have a tendency to enter toxic relationships and lose your sense of self, maybe using relationships as a form of escapism. The love you crave is earthshattering, one that can make you feel extreme highs and lows. However it is important for you to retain your sense of self and priorities, boundaries( and not just boundaries with other people but boundaries with yourself as well) may feel restrictive and tough in the beginning but they are ultimately for your highest good. It may be easy to be swept up and absolutely enamoured with your lover, and want them to be obsessed with you as well, this usually isn't the case and most people who present themselves this way may be looking to deceive you. Dont lose hope though. You can still experience wondrous, passionate and all consuming love, it might just take a little bit of self reflection and shadow work to reach a healthy balance of nurturing yourself and nurturing your relationship.

[ahamasmiyodhah]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇; Sivagami messed up real bad.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Bhallaladeva x Manjari (OC)

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: @mahi-wayy

Devasena huffed as she cradled her swollen belly and swiftly walked towards the Chambers where Bahubali; her Husband and the King of Mahishmati, and Bhallaladeva, her elder brother figure and Commander of Mahishmati's army were planning something.

Things had gone awry when Devasena had took her firm stand up in front of Sivagami Devi, angering the Queen Mother in front of Whole Court. It was surprising, though, to see that Bhallaladeva confessed he didn't wish to marry Devasena anymore, and that Bahubali can marry her.

It would have led to civil war, but Bhallaladeva confronted Sivagami Devi which hurt her sentiments and the big ego she was growing back then, and the woman had declared that Bahubali will be crowned King and Bhallaladeva as Commander, but it came with consequences.

Bijjaladeva disowned his son.

Not that anyone cared, though.

The change in Bhallaladeva surprised both Devasena; who felt he was a snobby arrogant manchild and Bahubali, who was just happy his older brother was back. The two were though confused that who caused this change, and the day they found the answer when the Annual Jagadambika Poojan for nine days started.

The temple amidst intricate carvings and an aura of oil lamps lit up with a rhythmic sound of drums when Bhallaladeva, the fierce and imposing Commander of the Mahishmati Armed Forces, reached the place to join in the auspicious Pooja. There would stand courtiers, priests and noblemen, watching with reverence as the life within the temple, that earthly representative of divine power, the culture surrounding the kingdom.

As Pooja began, his thoughts strayed from rituals and chants toward the grand hall's center where a dancer moved with an entrancing grace. She was Manjari, a dusky-skinned Priestess whose movements turned into poetry, her anklets chiming with every step. She was dressed in red and gold, eyes glittering with a fire that almost matched the flames dancing upon the torches that supported the temple; and so living for the spirit of the goddess she adored. Bhallaladeva, sedate and poised as always, was entranced by Manjari's dance.

He saw each movement unfold as an expression of love and mystery, leading him deep into a trance. Her dance was much more than an art; it was a prayer, a powerful invoking to command every soul there to pay attention. For Bhallaladeva, the man of war and strategy, hardened, it was a profoundly spiritual experience to watch Manjari's ethereal dance.

He was exposed to the emotion-wrenching look in her eyes, the soft yet powerful dance of her figure, and the way that the mere presence of a person seemed to command the space. Amidst the blowing of conch shells and rising smoke of incense, Bhallaladeva came to realize that he was not observing something; but rather he was entranced by thin threads of invisibility connecting him to the divine priestess who danced as if she was calling the gods themselves to bear testimony to her devotion.

Devasena and Bahubali, both were elated that Bhallaladeva loved someone, and even helped him most of the times. Manjari was a Devadasi, hence even Sivagami didn't oppose her coming to Palace to see Devasena as she was pregnant, since a Devadasi is considered auspicious.

But right now, the danger looming over Manjari's head was something which scared Devasena.

The Princess of Kunthala reached the heavy doors and took a deeo breath, commanding the doors to be opened. Once they did, the occupants of room lookes at her. "Devasena? What are you doing here?" Bahubali asked as he and Bhallaladeva ran to her, making her sit on a Couch. Randev, Bahubali's friend brought a tumbler of water and handed it to Devasena.

"Bhalla! You have to run to Shiva Temple right now! Manjari! She's in danger!" Devasena exclaimed, her eyes wide. "What are you saying Devasena? Why will Manjari be in danger?" Bhallaladeva asked. "Rajmata. She wants you to marry the Princess of Simhadhwaja, Princess Yagnika. One of the courtiers told her about you and Manjari, and she has sent Soldiers to.." Bhallaladeva ran out before she could complete her sentence.

.

Manjari was all set to sleep when a shadow outside her hut in Temple sanctum, and the sound of footsteps made her sit straight. Manjari could feel the hammering of her heart in her chest as shadows appeared to move in the faintly lit corners of her room. Then came a whispery rustle of armor; metal faintly glinted, and into this darkness lurked the soldiers, their intent predatory.

Panic ran through her veins. She hastened, those fragile feet not making a sound on the cold marble floor as she slid by the door with her heart pounding with fear and instinct. That temple, once her safe haven, looked now like a trap closing in on her. She ran the maze of temple corridors, taking those ragged, shallow breaths. The soldiers pursued her mercilessly; their footsteps filled the air with an eerie echo of danger nipping at the heels of this poor woman running for life. Her sari fluttered behind her as a banner of defiance yet showed no clear path marked in front. Manjari darted her eyes to and fro searching around for her escape, but every turn took her deeper into the mazes.

Just as she thought she might find her way out, Manjari spun on her heel, the rush of fear fogging her vision, and crashed into something so immovable, so unyielding that it rooted her to the spot. She backpedaled, eyes wide with terror, but when she looked up again she was gazing into Bhallaladeva's face. His towering form filled her entire view, blocking her way out. His gaze, intensive and unreadable, locked onto hers, and the weight of her predicament settled heavily between them.

"Senapathi.." Manjari tearfully hugged him, as The soldiers behind her stopped short, freezing as they saw their doom in Bhallaladeva's eyes.

.

Bhallaladeva's footsteps echoed down the corridors of the palace, hot with indignation. His mind was bubbling over with bitter memories as he moved towards the Shiva Temple to his mother, Sivagami Devi, who was blamed. The Mahishmati kingdom had made her the regal queen mother-words for herself there were law. But to Bhallaladeva, she was a dim silhouette—thick and stern, unforgiving and unsweet. Bhallaladeva recalled how he always wanted his mother's love, even when a child; instead, he would get cold stares and a sharp tongue. Everywhere around him, people went around speaking of his strength and valor, but Sivagami's gaze was always on some fault-finding issue that had never brought across a proud motherly warmth. As he clenched his fists, memories of his childhood rushing back into his mind.

He could still remember all the attempts he had made to win her favor—by mastering the skill of war, performing exceptionally well in his studies, or showcasing his mastery in fights. But all in vain. Sivagami always compared him to his cousin, Amarendra Baahubali, whom she loved like her very son.

Bhallaladeva silently witnessed her when she gushed about everything Baahubali did, offering him that maternal pride Bhallaladeva has always wanted but would never receive. Every smile she threw towards Baahubali felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart as it reminds him of how he shall always be second in her eyes. Meanwhile, recalling the favours of Sivagami, Bhallaladeva ran toward the temple.

He recalled the day he was winning the fight in the ground, but she picked Baahubali, making known her decision that the throne would be bagged by him who served people best and not by him who sought power. The words had hurt him, and he recalled them every moment in his life.

He is not a son to her; on the contrary, he was a brutal man with an insatiable will to dominate, unbefitting the prince for which he had striven for his life. Bhallaladeva did not utter the pain, covering it with layers of ambitions and anger within him, and today the facade was crumbling apart. Before him was the temple, its massive structure jarringly contrasting the chaos within his soul.

Bhallaladeva's breath was laboured, his face screwed up in a snarl as he stormed up the steps, his eyes blazing with the fire of years-long pent-up resentment. This place, consecrated to the god of destruction, seemed apt for the storm that brewed inside him.

Today Bhallaladeva was not marching up to a temple; he was marching against the shackles of his whole life left untouched with scorn and negligence, every stride taken as a defiant act against the mother who never did see him for who he was.

Just as he turned in corner, a horrified Manjari ran into him. Looking in her eyes he realised how scared she was. Her dusky cheeks were red with all the crying, her eyes wide in fear and pain. Clutching her sari around her body, Manjari hugged him tightly. "Manjari, I'm here.. do not worry. Just... Close your eyes. You might not want to see." He said softly and Manjari nodded.

.

Thunder cackled in sky as Sivagami Devi sat on her throne, Bahubali and Devasena sitting nearby. The two were concerned as they waited Bhallaladeva's arrival. Soon the thunder cackled aloud, flashing the corridor in which stood a man holding a sword.

Sivagami Devi looked up, a shiver running down her spine as a bloody sight of a furious Bhallaladeva, and noted the flutter of a plain Red saree behind him. Bhallaladeva moved and her eyes widened when she saw Manjari, her hair partition filled with red Sindoor as he grabbed her hand and pulled her in, the girl looking fearful.

"Mother, meet your daughter-in-law, Manjari." He grinned, a grin which scared the three. Sivagami looked appalled, her wide eyes on Manjari as she looked at her from head to toe, her anger returning. "Bhalla!? What is this!?" She screamed.

Sivagami Devi's voice was at once shrill with indignation and robust as she berated Bhallaladeva with a flare in her eyes. "How dare you go against me to marry that temple dancer, Manjari?" she yelled, her speech loaded with scorn. "I wanted you to marry Yagnika, the Princess of Simhadhwaja, and seal an alliance for Mahishmati!" Her voice was robust, but behind it lay a hollow frustration—Bhallaladeva had gone against her wishes again.

Bhallaaladeva snapped. Climbing to his feet, he shouted into her face, "All my life, I've been nothing but a pawn in your schemes!" His voice was shaking with all the anger he felt, festering over the years. "You cared not for what I wanted, only for what you were about- your ambition. I am done living under your shadow," he said, the bitterness in his words as he confronted a mother who would never see him past his utility.

He took a step forward, eyes blazing with defiance. "I love Manjari," he said, his voice carrying through tension. "She sees me for what I am, not what she can get from me. I married her because she is my choice, not yours. I won't let you dictate my life again." Bold, defiant-a challenge flung at the feet of the woman who had always controlled his fate.

And for one moment, she was left speechless by this tirade, losing all her expression. Bhallaladeva's defiance shattered all the rigid expectations she had always imposed upon the world around her and created a chasm between them that seemed impossible to bridge. She could see him not as the son she had shaped but for the first time ever the man he had become, driven by a love that defied her will.

Sivagami soon moulded her expressions back in the cold one as she stood up. "You also are going like someone who once defied me." Bahubali looked away at that.

"Do not blame Bahu, Mother." Bhallaladeva sneered. "Manjari came in my life way before Devasena came in Bahu's life. And I won't let you dictate my life anymore." Bhallaladeva said. Sivagami stared at them for a moment before fleeting her eyes at Manjari, and left.

"Bhalla, you scared us!" Devasena exclaimed as she waddled fastly towards them and hugged Manjari. "Oh dear, you are so scared. Come, I will take you to room so that you can rest." She said and Manjari numbly nodded, before going with Devasena.

Manjari glanced back at Bhallaladeva, her heart pounding as she took in his imposing figure, drenched in blood from the fierce battle he had fought to protect her. His fierce gaze softened as it met hers, revealing a rare tenderness and love in his eyes. Overwhelmed by the realization of her deep feelings for him, she blushed, her cheeks turning a deep crimson. She gave him a small, shy smile before turning away.

.

.

.

.

.

@vishnavishivaa @mahi-wayy @yehsahihai @xxdritaxx @houseofbreadpakoda @ramayantika @warnermeadowsgirl @stxrrynxghts @mayakimayahai @chaliyaaa @celestesinsight @sambaridli @desigurlie @hum-suffer @sanskari-kanya @zeherili-ankhein @krsnaradhika @thegleamingmoon @ulaganayagi @voidsteffy @krishna-sangini @nidhi-writes @kaal-naagin @thecrazyinktrovert @koklknthiapsara

[city-of-ladies]

An unprecedented female monarch in her dynasty, Rudrama Devi (r.1262-1289) presided over an age of prosperity. A successful warrior queen, she triumphed over both internal and external threats.

Her father’s heir

Rudrama Devi was the daughter of King Ganapati Deva (r.1199-1262) of the Kakatiya dynasty, who ruled over parts of present-day Telangana and Andhra Pradesh in Southern India. Their capital was located at Orugallu (Warangal). 

Ganapati Deva was a successful monarch. His kingdom was famed for its’ diamonds and beautiful fabrics. He had no son to succeed him and his older daughter was already married. He thus decided to make his younger daughter Rudrama Devi his heir and gave her the requisite training.

A female monarch would nonetheless be a in vulnerable position and see her legitimacy questioned. To make female rule more acceptable, he arranged a Putrikayagna ceremony for his daughter. This religious rite allowed a sonless man to declare his daughter or his daughter’s son as his son. After that, Rudrama Devi was also known by the masculine name of Rudra Deva. She also attended all public meetings in masculine attire. 

Her story is similar in that regard to that of her near-contemporary, Raziya Sultan of Delhi.

A warrior among warriors

In 1259, Rudrama Devi became her father’s co-ruler and assumed sole rule in 1262. She married the Chalukya prince Virabdhadra, who played no part in her administration, and with whom she had three daughters. 

Rudrama Devi faced many threats at once. Her neighbors saw an opportunity to conquer her kingdom and her feudatory noblemen couldn’t stand being ruled by a woman.

She stood her ground and prevailed, proving her might as a warrior queen. Many of her nobles rebelled, but she successfully defeated them. The Seuna Yadava king, Mahadeva, invaded her territories and reached her capital. Rudrama Devi chased him after 15 days of fighting and forced them to pay a heavy tribute in money and horses. 

To commemorate her victory, she styled herself “Rayagajakesari” or “the lion who rules over the elephant kings”. In the pavilion she built, she was depicted as a warrior mounted on a lion, holding a sword and a shield, with an elephant trunk holding up a lotus to her in sign of submission. 

In 1262, another of her neighbors occupied the Vengi region. She was able to recover it after 12 years of fighting. She was nonetheless unsuccessful in fending off the attacks of her southern rival Ambadeva.

Meritocratic policies

Rudrama Devi completed the construction of the nearly impregnable Warangal Fort. She bought large tracts of land under cultivation, increasing her kingdom’s revenue. She also recruited non-aristocratic warriors from diverse castes. Only 17 percent of her subordinates were of noble background. Prominent commanders could receive lands and become feudatory nobles. She thus established a new warrior class. Since the nobility had rejected her rule, this meritocratic policy allowed her to surround herself with loyal retainers.

Marco Polo, who mistook her for a widow of the previous king, wrote about her very flattering terms, calling her a “lady of much discretion” and a “lover of justice, of equity and of peace”. 

A warrior to the end

At the end of her reign, she chose her grandson, Prataparudra, as her heir. 

Rudrama Devi likely died in 1289 (though some sources date her death from 1295) according to an inscription made by a member of her army commemorating her recent death and that of her army chief. The cause and location of her death are unknown. She likely died facing Ambadeva's armies, leading her troops as she had always done.

Further reading

Gupta Archana Garodia, The women who ruled India, leaders, warriors, icons

Janchariman M., Perspectives in Indian History From the Origins to AD 1857

Talbot Cynthia, "Rudrama‐devi, Queen of Kakatiya dynasty (r. 1262–1289)", In: The Oxford Encyclopedia of Women in World History. 

Talbot Cynthia, Precolonial India in Practice: Society, Region, and Identity in Medieval Andhra

[martanda]

Bharani Nakshatra

Zodiac Sign: Aries

Astronomical Name: 35 Arietis

Gender: female

Ruling Graha: Venus

Degree Range: 13°20' to 26°40'

Charan Rashi / Navamsha: Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio

Deity: Yama ( God of Death )

Quality: Balanced

Nature: Ugra

Trigun: Rajasic

Symbol: Yoni /Vulva

Meaning: Bearing Children

Purusharth: Artha

Gana: Manushya

Varna: Mleccha

Nadi: Pitta

Yoni: Elephant

Direction: East

Movement: Downward

Resemblence: Maintance (Sthithi)

Body Part: Lower foot

Color: blood red

Element: Prithvi

Animal: Male Elephant

Bird: Crow (kaak)

Tree: Awala or Indian gooseberry

Bharani is the state of the soul where it has received a body and is in the Mother's womb. It is an intense and extremely transformative nakshatra.

It is ruled by Yama(the God of Death). He was cursed by his stepmother Chhayadevi for kicking her pregnant belly that his feet will be infested with maggots. He also was abandoned by his own mother Devi Sangya.Bharani natives have mother wounds.They do not share a good relationship with maternal figures.

Saturn gets debilitated in Bharani nakshatra.(He too has an injured foot which causes him to walk slowly) Saturn is known for having a very close relationship with his mother Chhayadevi.

Bharani natives have a peculiar way of walking.Their steps are often parallel and heavy

They are very aloof and introverted in nature.Wherever Bharani is in the chart,the native does not like to meet people.

They are very upright and moral individuals who have a strong faith in justice.

They also have to deal with a lot of undue accusations and baseless rumors throughout their lives. It's better that they do not pay any heed to those.

They are very wise in nature (as denoted by elephants). Elephants have a matriarchal society of their own and are regarded as one of the most intelligent creatures in the world.They take care of their young till adulthood and the adult children often visit their parents. They also have a funeral ritual of their own(both tying into the Bharani theme)

Association of Bharani with Yama (the God of Death) and womb signifies that Birth and Death are intertwined and one cannot exist without the other.

[ramayantika]

Parvati (mystery academia)

Black. black. Stillness and dissolution. Nothingness is draped in shades of black which now surrounds you. This darkness however is not heavy. It surrounds you like a gentle mist, and there is a shower of large hibiscus flowers donning the darkest shade of red, like blood.

The chiming sound of anklets wake you up at night. A slow whisper rings in your ears. 'Wake up.' You lie wide awake. Your heart thuds in your chest, but the wake up call never recedes. Wake up from which sleep? There is no answer replying you.

Your mother sends you to light the incense sticks. By routine, you circle the sticks twice around the images of the gods. A jasmine flower falls on your hand, and for the first time, the eyes of the goddess bore into yours.

You sleep soundly. The wake up call of a feminine voice repeats once again. Your subconscious steals you into a dream. A room of mirrors welcome you and there is a sound of distant laughter outside the mirror. It is sweet and lively.

You stand in front of the mirrors. Seven mirrors and seven pieces, each a fragmented image until you peer closely. A woman stands behind you, tall and graceful with her hand raised in a blessing. The pearl stud on her nose shines like a mirror and you remember only the large gold nose ring.

'Wake up.' A warm hand caresses your head. Golden glow surrounds her hand. Your eyes are dazzled and you squint hard. Slumber takes you again in a comfortable embrace, but your soul has never been this aware, as if arising from a long slumber.

'Mother,' you call out. A soft hand caresses your head and some velvety fabric touches your cheek. It reminds you of a distant but loved maternal touch, and you feel like a child again. You are safed and loved.

A large serpent coils around your body. Its hood sits on the top of your head like a crown. Atop its hood lies a lotus. The serpent must terrify you, but there is a sweet smell of sandalwood, a shower of kadamba blossoms, and red gulal sprinkled in the air.

A woman dances in abandon. There is grace, there is desire, there is passion and there is liberation in the air around her, and in her being. It is electrifying. The beautiful queen-like woman transforms into a beacon of darkness, and red fades in your vision. A loud howl alerts your ears and loud thudding sounds of a drum beckon you closer. Black. You faint.

Nine women surround you. Each woman wears a different coloured saree. Some look motherly, some look youthful, and some look terrifying -- every shade of life taking its existence in their bodies.

A flash of lightening and your body jerks open. The serpent from your dreams coils around you tighter. A trident manifests beside you. Your hands touch the weapon and electricity fizzles through your body.

It is dark again. In pitch darkness, a lady in red and white, decked in gold and long flowing hair manifests herself in front of you. 'You have woken up then.' The serpent from your dreams has followed your path and hisses in agreement. It understands human language, some strange way of nature to show her power, the power of the divine feminine, Her. The serpent looks at you. There is humanity in its eyes. What a curious play of Prakriti!

The youthful woman who giggles as sweet as sugar, beware, she is wild and untamed. You may desire to claim her for yourself, but she shall not. She is the Mother of the Universe, manifesting in different forms. The little girls with pigtails who sweetly handed over her ladoo too is her, and so is the frail old lady in your neighbourhood. She is everywhere.

Nobody knows how did those vile men die, but justice was served. The wise old woman whispers about the devi serving justice, a feat these strong and burly policemen who claim to be the protectors of the common public, and the 'fair' judiciary had failed to achieve. 'I saw the devi drink their blood. Their severed heads served as her garlands. It is true.' The rest of the crowd roll their eyes at the rambling woman.

The final night. Loud sounds of the drums make your heart beat thud in excitement. Women march ahead, their foreheads adorned with red vermilion. Little children dance their way to the river as vehicles carry the idols of the goddess to the river. There is a huge crowd, each person chanting the name of the goddess. Amidst the humungous crowd, there is a call that makes you turn your head towards the sky. A golden glow forms against the dark clouds of the night, and there she is.

The cosmos manifests in her. Adorned with the stars and galaxies, she stands tall and large in the skies, her large doe-like eyes looking at her children with love and affection. She is jagat janani after all. Her trident manifests in her arms and she solemnly swears to protect her children from every harm. Jai devi! Jai maa durga!

'It isn't a dream. You have reached out to me, just like I. A mother want her children around her. Remember, you and me, we all are one.'

taglist: @jukti-torko-golpo @krishna-priyatama @krsnaradhika @krishakamal @ma-douce-souffrance @prettykittytanjiro @krishna-sangini @thegleamingmoon @kaal-naagin @chaliyaaa @desigurlie @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @ramcharantitties @houseofbreadpakoda @swayamev @rhysaka @aesthetic-aryavartik @ahamasmiyodhah @vishnavishivaa

[vishnavishivaa]

Edhuvum Avanukkaga- Chapter 1- Manadhin Dhairyam

Manadhin Dhairyam- Courage of the heart

I have tried hard not to write too much in Tamizh so that everyone can relate. I will, however, also be doing stories with heavy Tamizh words.

*******

Vaanathi peered at the Prince, as he was shivering in fever. Her heart filled with tears at his pain, and she made to gently sooth him by touching his forehead, but paused. She did not have the right to touch him like this, and yet, he needed someone. She sighed, taking the edge of her pallu and placing it on his forehead, gently rubbing her hand over the pallu to give him some basic comfort.

Ponniyin Selvar's beauty was beyond explanation even in that moment. While he had classically handsome features, he had an ethereal charm to him along with that, which made him beyond everything in Vaanathi's eyes. He was her Deivam, and she knew that. All those lessons on how Sita Devi treated Rama as Her God reminded Vaanathi of what she always had dreamt of for herself- she wanted what SitaRama had, and so she had done everything to emulate Sita, to try and understand Sita, to at least be a miniscule part of the Mother Goddess.

But Vaanathi knew from the moment that doomed letter came from her Selvar to her Akka, things had changed. She remembered the words of the letter as vividly as if it had happened just a moment ago.

'Akka, I met an amazing woman,' his words said, Vaanathi's delicate frame trembling the moment those words left Ilaya Piratti Kundavai's mouth. Vaanathi knew the latter was looking at her with sympathy, but she shook her head. No no, she had no need for that right now.

He had gone on to describe her in detail, of her adventurous spirit and beautiful voice, of her bold opinions and strong skills, he sounded entirely in admiration of her. Vaanathi had felt the collapse of her heart, but she soldiered on, listening to every word he had said about this Samudrakumari with a strange detachment.

She had known her luck was too good to be true!

Vaanathi had accepted this gracefully, she would like to think. She had not said an angry word, she had just smiled, quietly said, "If this is his wish, I should not try to change it," and tried not to cry. She had failed when Kundavai's warm arms wrapped around her, and she had failed when she had met Aditha Karikalan in Kanchi, and the Prince had called her 'little sister.' But other than that, she had not pushed anything, and had not even reacted to Arulmozhi asking about her, though a small part of her delighted in that he still cared.

Well, a large part, for that allowed her to indulge in her dream of being his wife a little at least. She shook herself out of the day dream, instead focusing on the medicine preparation. She had wandered outside through her long thought process. She had pleaded to be allowed to make the medicines, and had been allowed to do so. She was to get these medicines to Sendhan Amudhan, who will take them to the main Buddhist monk, who was in charge of the well-being of her Aruma Deva.

For that is what he was to her, even to this moment. Her Lord of Light, even if he never wanted her like she did him.

Edhuvum Avanukaaga, she chanted in her mind, as she finished getting the medicines ready.

"Here you go, Ayya. Please give it to the monks," she gave the medicines to Sendhan Amudhan, who observed her for a moment.

"Ungalin manadhai kondavar Ponniyin Selvar," he said it as a statement, and he was right. Ponniyin Selvar had taken her entire heart the moment she had met him. She nodded with a melancholic smile, not saying more. She knew it was not needed, for Sendhan Amudhan's eyes held a deep compassion and understanding, one that comes from personal experience.

"May Emperuman be with you, Ammani," Sendhan Amudhan said gently, and Vaanathi smiled. He understood that she did not want anyone to pacify her, but only someone who could accept that she was in pain. She quietly watched him leave, aware of Vanthiyathevan's presence as well. He had brought Karikalar with him to Nagaipattinam, and was thus around.

She sang quietly, "Thodudaiya seviyan vidai eriyor..."

The Thevaram gave her peace of mind, and she continued, lost in devotion to Emperuman, the one soothing balm of her heart, the only one who stood by her through every turmoil. She did not bother about the tears that fell down her cheeks, nor did she about the tremble of her body- she just sang and sang thevaram after thevaram, even as Kundavai and Karikalar came up to her, even as dusk approached, even as the water bubbled hearing her. Vaanathi simply sang and sang, till she felt so exhausted, that she surrendered herself in Kundavai's arms, allowing her Akka to lead her back to her chambers in the palace at Aanaimangalam.

****

It had been two days since the evening she had sung so many Thevarams, and Vaanathi was peering through the small window at Arulmozhi, who was finally breathing easy. She noticed his fingers move mildly, and she knew that he was now returning to consciousness. She saw the tears of happiness in Kundavai's eyes briefly, but her eyes stayed on Arulmozhi, and delight filled her as he got up. His eyes glanced in her direction and met her eyes, before she looked away and hid from him. She smiled quietly as she heard the two banter, and Karikalar join in, and slipped away. He was awake, and she had to go for her prayers of gratitude. She was thankful for Emperuman, who had awakened Arulmozhi as time turned right.

As she walked to the temple with her entourage after getting a message to her Akka, she wondered something to herself suddenly. Who was she? Was Vaanathi defined as the woman who loved Ponniyin Selvar? Was that her identity? If it was, she would gladly live with that one thing for the rest of her life. And yet...

What was Vaanathi's value as a person, she thought, as she entered the temple, not all that surprised to find Sendhan Amudhan there. She silently greeted him and offered flowers to Kaayarohanar, the form of Shiva who shone resplendent as the overlord of Naagai. She stared at the Lingam, glowing in paarijaatam and bilvam, and smiled quietly.

Shiva gave her peace through all the pain enshrined in her heart due to the current happenings.

"Ayya, can I ask you something?" she looked at Sendhan, who nodded courteously. She continued, "Why does Emperuman give us so much strength, so that we are able to bear pain?"

"He loves us, Thaaye," Sendhan Amudhan says. "He gives us this strength to make us bear the pain because He loves us. For Him, it is easy to rewrite our Destiny even, but He would never do that, because whatever happens to us, it is by His own decision. He does give difficulties, but also gives us the strength to face them, and the only reason that comes to my understanding for this is that He wants these difficulties to make us evolve into our real person."

"And how do we find our real selves, Ayya?" a now melancholic Vaanathi asked.

"Devote yourself to Shiva, and He will reveal your true self to you by guiding you," Sendhan said, and Vaanathi nodded. She looked at Kaayarohanar and teared.

'Emperumane,' Vaanathi prayed. 'Guide me such that I become who I am meant to be, guide me to be strong to make the choices I have at heart, guide me to support my Chozha Nadu. Kundavai Akka once teased me saying I don't care about the motherland as much as I do about the one I view as Chozha Nadu. Give me true devotion to my motherland, such that I will understand what it is to serve my Nadu. I truly do not deserve to be Ponniyin Selvar's wife, for I am nothing compared to not just Samudrakumari, but also to the other Princesses who have pure thoughts of serving this glorious Chozha Nadu. Oh husband of Parvati, guide me such that I put my motherland first too, along with Ponniyin Selvar and his wishes. The husband is everything, and he is my husband at heart. You gave me a wedding in my dreams, and I will live with those memories for the rest my life. May I forever serve you, oh Rudra!'

****

Vaanathi was back again to pray to the Lord. It had been two days since Ponniyin Selvar had first gained consciousness, and Vaanathi had refused to meet him. He too had not asked for her, nor had he wanted her. She had seen Samudrakumari go to meet him, and her heart had stung. So she had run to Kaayarohanar instead. He and Nilayatakshi gave her peace for the burn her soul experienced.

'May his light ever live on,' prayed Vanathi quietly, in front of Kaayarohanar, the presiding form of Ishvara at Nagapattinam. She had been extremely restless since she heard about Poonkuzhali in the letter her Prince had written to her Akka, or rather letters. This thought kept circling back to her, despite him never failing to ask about her. It felt perfunctory. Vanathi was no fool, though many thought her to be so.

She was glad that she had refused to even meet Arulmozhi, instead having seen him that one time as he woke up. She had not left her chambers except for her prayers, even food, she had gotten to her chambers itself. She had come on Akka's wish, but she was not going to involve herself anywhere near Arulmozhi. She had to lick her wounds in private, and smile to show the world she was happy with his choice of woman. She would always love him, and thus, she will let him go. For his happiness, anything.

Tears filled her eyes at her own thoughts, and she wiped them off, looking straight at the One she worshipped above all, at the One who was everything in the Universe.

"Emperumane, give me strength," she whispered softly, getting up after a prayer to Nilayatakshi and Kaayarohanar, when her Sakhi Tulasi came running in, saying, "Ponniyin Selvar is to visit the temple now with Ilaya Piratti, Vanthiyathevar, Sendhan Amudhan and the odakkari."

Vanathi felt her heart stop and she got up, saying, "Come Tulasi, let us leave. I have some work in my chambers. I need to stitch the pallu for Vanavan Athai. Come come."

Vanathi slipped out of the temple, hurrying to her palanquin faster when she saw the said group of people walking in that direction. Luckily, only her Akka had seen her, and she shook her head, running and entering her palanquin, not knowing that Arulmozhi had seen the end of her saree as she got in.

She heaved a sigh of relief, and asked the bearers to go ahead, when his familiar voice reached her ears.

"I have never known the Princess of Kodumbalur to run away from her Akka or me, have you, Devi?"

She trembled when she heard his voice, and thought of Shiva, prayed to Him again and again, and stepped out. She folded her hands and greeted the younger Prince of Chozha Nadu, her heart beating out of her chest. She did not want to look at him, but by protocol she had to.

"Vanangugiren, Ponniyin Selvare. I am glad to see you awake and doing well now."

"I am surprised to see that you did not come to visit me, Vaanathi," he said, and Vaanathi resisted the urge to snap. Why should she go to see him? And why did it matter to him if she did or not, she thought a bit sulkily.

"Ilavarase, I came as Akka's companion," she said. "By protocol, I should not come to meet you alone."

Her eyes met his steadily, and she could catch the hint of surprise in his lovely amber eyes, the hint of something amiss, and she smiled a little more. She wanted his happiness, and he clearly was, around Poonkuzhali. She must thank the woman for not just saving the Prince, but for also giving him that happiness and contentment. Swallowing quietly, she allowed herself to still look at him, not letting the flood of her heart reflect in her eyes.

"But you can with Akka," he pointed out correctly, but she shook her head.

"Ilavarase, only those whose presence is needed must come to see you. My presence would be a disturbance. But I am thrilled to see you doing well. I will pray to Emperuman for you. For now, please let me take leave and not disturb you all in your darshanam."

"You will not come with us?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"No Ilavarase. I already finished my darshanam. I have some work, vanangugiren."

Saying thus, and smiling at Kundavai, Vaanathi went back to her palanquin, feeling his eyes on her, but refusing to look back or at him.

It was not her right, not any longer.

*******

Please tell me what you all think! I cannot proceed without that.

@ahamasmiyodhah @thegleamingmoon @yehsahihai @mahaswrites @hum-suffer @theramblergal @moon-880 @arachneofthoughts @whippersnappersbookworm @rang-lo @celestesinsight @willkatfanfromasia @mahi-wayy @ragkee @houseofbreadpakoda @sambaridli @nidhi-writes @leoprincess21

[avocadoooo]

foolish one

character: alhaitham x fem!reader

a/n: i didn't do the whole song, small letters intended, also never proofread🤸‍♀️ do send in requests❗

you give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

rubbing the sides of your forehed, you let out a heavy sigh while looking at the random numbers and formulas written in paper infront of you that you've been trying to understand for the past twenty minutes. the longer the time passes, the longer the number jumbles and shuffles together.

and when you were right on the edge of giving up, you a pair of hands clap right next to your hear startling you.

"you've been staring at that stack of paper for the past twenty minutes and you haven't even gotten passed the first page yet," you hear a familiar voice say, immediately recognizing the owner of it.

"if you're not going to help, best get away. i'm not in the mood to deal with your scolding today, alhaitham."

he doesn't say anything and you hear some shuffling, thinking that he's going to leave, you put your headphones on when suddenly the chair infront of you was pulled from its place. he sits down, dropping a stack of paper infront of you with his neat handwriting of his notes, ready to help with the parts you struggled with (all of it).

wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right

arguing with alhaitham was one that tried their best to avoid, not just because he always thinks that he's right, but also because he makes you think you're making a big deal of things that really are a big deal.

alhaitham's eyebrows meet as he says, "i just ate outside, i didn't think you'd make that big of a deal out of this."

you roll your eyes, already used to him saying those words as you say, "you ate outside when i told you i was going to go and cook us dinner. you also went out of your way to go with nilou, you know how i feel about her, haitham."

he crosses his arms, already over the argument and says, "we've gone over this millions of times already, i told you that she's just a colleague. will you ever get over this? it's getting tiring"

a tear drops as you turn around, locking yourself in your room and your heart with you.

and i will block out these voices of reason in my head

all the signs were pointing to the exit. you knew that it was probably the best thing to do, especially in your situation, but were you going to do it? of course.

you won't.

every single thing about him was screaming red, that it was something wrong and dangerous. and you were well aware of that.

but you always liked red better than green anyway.

and the voices say, "you are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson"

you knew that staying in yours and alhaitham's relationship is a bad idea, hoping that things would turn around and work out for the better.

but you also knew that wishing for that would be throwing another star to the already millions of missed shining ones.

and yet you did anyway. your friends advices going into one ear and out the other as you run back to him. but you know they'll be there for you, ready to catch you as you fall into their arms, crying once again.

you swear you won't come back to him, that you'll be choosing yourself this time around and it'll be better as they nod along, knowing that you'll be back by his side in the morning, things said the night before already forgotten as you look at him with lovestruck eyes.

and you know damn well that he knows that as well.

foolish one, stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love, that ain't never gonna come

was what your friends always told you numerious times, on multiple occasions. have you ever listened? no. have they gotten tired of reminding you? yes. they've realised that you're foolish, you were always a hopeless romantic, but they never thought you'd be a foolish one as well.

and here you were, all dolled up for your anniversary dinner, phone on the table you're sitting infront of with the messages you sent hours ago, looking down at the device with teary eyes.

"hey al, i know you're busy with work but i just wanted to remind you of the date we have tonight! you also said you'd send what you were gonna wear so we can match, see u:))" - sent at 11:30am

"it's 3 hours 'til the date but can you send me the picture if you're not too busy since yk i take a while to get ready. thanks, love" - sent at 3:03 pm

"an hour to go and i have to leave in 20mins, we won't be able to match since you haven't sent me yours, sorry:((" - sent at 5pm

"here at the [location], take your time though" - sent at 5:50pm

you checked the watch on your wrist, 7:43pm, it read. it's been two hours now that you were waiting for your beloved to show up.

"maybe he's just working overtime" he would never work over time.

"he's probably stuck in traffic" the reason you had to leave 20 minutes early was because this place was 5 minutes from his work place so it'd be more convenient for him to come.

"his boss most likely asked him to stay late" he is the boss.

even if you were the one being embarrassed for waiting for wlmost two hours in a restaurant, you still tried making excuses for his behavior anyway.

you grabbed your phone and started typing away

"love, i might leave now since it's been almost two hours that i've waited, you're probably home already since you got tired from work and forgot about the date, it's okay though, we can make up next year"

then you hit send, and just as the message gets delivered as you stood up, a phone chimes from the entrance so you turn to look.

and then there he was, standing at the front talking to the server and you smile thinking that maybe he was just late after all when he walks in and turns to look back out, with his hand extending out.

a hand holds his delicately as nilou walks in.

he turns, looking around the restaurant when you lock eyes, his are shocked, while yours are filled with disappointment. you shook your head as you walk out the exit door, not even bothering to look back as he calls out your name.

you were indeed, the foolish one.

[keldae]

Four word prompts - “You love me, right?”

“... So, you love me, right?” Devi abruptly asked as the party made their way down one of the countless alleys in the Lower City. She squeezed Gale's hand in hers as she looked up at the wizard.

Blinking at the suddenness of the question, Gale looked down at Devi with a concerned frown. “Of course I love you, my rose. Why would you ask that? Have I done something to make you question me?”

“No! Far from it.” Devi squeezed his hand again. “Would you love me even if I did something particularly dumb?”

Suspicion crept into Gale's mind; his eyes narrowed as he looked at Devi. Her wide, earnest eyes and the way she worried at her lower lip with her teeth almost hid the glint of mischief in her gaze. “What did you do?” he asked with a sigh.

Devi blinked innocently. “Me? Do something? What makes you think I did something?”

“Darling, you know that I adore you more than life itself – but I know you. And I know that you and Astarion snuck out of camp last night and were gone for over an hour.” Gale glanced ahead to the aforementioned vampire, casually strolling along with Shadowheart beside him. “Where you two are, shenanigans are sure to be had.” He looked back at Devi, just in time to see her lips twitch in a grin. “Ah, so you did get into something! What did you do?”

“... You'll find out soon enough,” Devi said. She grinned impishly. “Just know that it could have been way worse than what we actually did.”

Gale pinched the bridge of his nose. “Am I going to have to bail you out of prison?” he asked with another heavy sigh.

“Nah. That would imply I got caught.” Devi seemed to have a spring to her step, the mark of a miscreant proud of whatever mischief she'd accomplished last night. “Just remember that you love me, and don't rat me out when the time comes.”

Shaking his head, Gale looked forward again. “Astarion, what in the Nine Hells did you two do last night?” he called to the pair ahead of himself and Devi.

“Ask us no questions,” the vampire answered, “and we'll tell you no lies.” He had a grin on his lips as he looked over his shoulder at the wizard. “Just don't set either of us on fire.”

“For the record, I have no idea what happened,” Shadowheart interjected. “I'm completely innocent in whatever wrongdoing these two idiots did.”

Gale suppressed the urge to groan out loud. “Whose fault was it?”

“Hers,” Astarion answered, without hesitation.

“And it was totally worth it,” Devi added, grinning evilly. “On that note, Elminster's left for Waterdeep, right? He's no longer in Baldur's Gate?”

Coming to a stop, Gale turned and set both hands on Devi's slim shoulders, fixing her with a stern look. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“You'll see, first in my heart.” Devi giggled, then stretched up to lightly kiss Gale. “Just know that I regret absolutely nothing.”

Gale suspiciously watched Devi for a moment before he sighed and resumed walking, holding her hand. “I love you, but right now, I'm not sure that I want to admit knowing you. Is this better or worse than you licking the spider meat in that Sharran temple?”

“You know what they say about comparing apples and oranges, my love…”

That made the wizard groan as they came out into the main thoroughfare, running by the Stormfront Tabernacle. “Am I going to wish that you had just chosen to lick another dead spider?”

“... Maybe.”

“That does not bode well,” Gale muttered. He paused as he took note of the crowd in front of the temple, and the excited whispers he could hear. “Huh. Curious–” He looked at Devi, and groaned again when he saw her slyly bumping Astarion’s fist with her own, as if in celebration of mischief well done. “Oh, I have a terrible feeling about this.”

“What on earth could that be for?” Astarion asked with a too-innocent blink. “Perhaps it's just indigestion.”

Gale narrowed his eyes at the vampire, then slipped into the crowd, making his way to the temple’s entrance, his companions following him. Dread settled into his chest with every step that he took to the temple – the anticipation of something awful inside the imposing building.

He finally gained the entrance, and stepped inside, only making it a couple of steps into the building before he was halted by another crowd of gawkers. But he didn't need to go any further – he could see the cause of the commotion, all centring around the statue of Mystra. The sight before him made him blink in shock before he groaned out loud.

He knew, better than almost anyone (save for perhaps Elminster) that Mystra wasn't supposed to sport a moustache and pointed goatee, or a monocle, or a unibrow, or crude devil's horns like what currently adorned her statue, bright red paint standing out starkly against the white marble.

With a heavy sigh, the wizard slowly turned to see his companions. Shadowheart's eyes were wide and she had a hand over her mouth – Gale wasn't sure if that was shock, or simply to hide a smile. Devi and Astarion were hiding their satisfied glee surprisingly well, although Gale could recognise the same look of mischief that they had sported after similar vandalising of the portrait of Vlaakith. And he knew Devi's handiwork. “Deviali…” he hissed under his breath, giving the love of his life a glare.

“Just know that it could have been far worse,” Devi whispered, an evil grin on her face. “I could have pissed on the statue too.”

“You only didn't because we almost got caught as it was,” Astarion pointed out in an undertone. 

Devi waved her hand dismissively. “Details.” She eyed the vandalised statue, then looked at Astarion with a grin. “Might be our best work yet,” she lowly said.

Astarion chuckled. “It looks so much more vivid in the daylight, too. The red contrasts so nicely with the white of the marble…”

Gale felt his eye twitch warningly. “You two are going to wind up in hell for this,” he groaned. "A very low level of the hells."

“And you'll be right there with us!” Astarion pointed out, his fangs glinting as he grinned. “Guilty by association, my dear wizard.”

“Don't remind me,” the wizard muttered. “I will not be surprised if she manifests in this plane right now, for the sole purpose of striking you two down!”

That did not seem to sober Devi up in the slightest – quite the opposite, in fact. Her eyes lit up with even more glee. “So I’ll have the opportunity to punch her in the throat like I was planning before she smites me!” she excitedly whispered. “Even better!”

“Shhh!” Gale glanced around, making sure nobody was paying undue attention to the four adventurers. Satisfied that the crowd’s attention was on Mystra’s statue, he looked back at Devi and Astarion. “What made either of you think that this was a good idea?” he whispered.

“She told you to kill yourself!” Devi hissed. Anger flashed in her eyes, momentarily overwhelming the glee. “You needed her help, and she was going to send you to your death for a chance at her bloody forgiveness! Why should I show her any hint of respect or admiration when she threw you away like that? Even if I didn’t love you more than life itself, nobody does that to someone I consider a friend!”

“You really shouldn’t be surprised, you know,” Astarion added. “We all know how Devi feels about throwing hands with deities on behalf of the people she cares about.” He looked at Shadowheart and winked. “Don’t worry, Shar is on the list too.”

“... Thank you?” Shadowheart responded. “I may join you two, once we find out what happened to my parents.”

Gale sighed and shook his head again – Astarion was right. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Devi would take it upon herself to disrespect Mystra so brazenly. It took more courage than he suspected he had to vandalise the idol of the Mother of the Weave, especially in the middle of the bloody tabernacle. And he would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel his own lingering anger towards Mystra for how she had so cruelly discarded him. His conversation with the goddess, only the day before, had been fraught with tension. Would Mystra withhold her offer of cleansing him of the orb if he brought her the Crown of Karsus now, thanks to Devi’s actions? He was inclined to agree with Shadowheart – the gods truly were a petty bunch.

But then again, he had his own moments of being petty, himself.

He turned back to the statue, eyeing it for a long moment, before he looked back at his companions. “... The unibrow is a nice touch that she would despise,” he muttered, and saw Devi and Astarion glance at each other with immense amounts of satisfaction. A little smirk played around his lips before he quickly suppressed it. “Come – let’s get out of here. Knowing our luck, Elminster will be on his way here, if he isn’t in the crowd already; and I would really prefer not having to lie to his face about you two.” “Gods, I can’t wait for tomorrow’s issue of the Gazette,” Devi laughed as the four slipped out of the tabernacle and back to the safety of the alleys – just in the nick of time, as Gale caught a glimpse of Elminster’s pointy hat in the crowd and heard his former mentor ranting furiously about the open disrespect to his goddess. “I’m saving a copy of that for the rest of my life…”

[g0j0s]

who is she?

when the rays of the sun caress my skin, she resides in the warmth, nurturing me. her beautiful face glimmers in the morning dew that clings to the blossoms and leaves. she reverberates in my mother’s throat as she speaks, and in the heavy footsteps of my niece, she dances freely. the ghunghroo on my ankles make melodies in her praise; people think I’m dancing, but it is she who communes with me.

i run far and wide in my mind, trying to decipher who she is. some call her the goddess, the Devi, the all-encompassing, all-knowing presence who holds us in her womb lovingly. but I have discovered that she is no one but me—a glimpse of myself residing in every entity. each time I open my eyes, seeking her truth, I find my own reflection gazing back at me, love and reverence trickling from it.