#house Raa

[thegorydamnreaper]

Romulus au Raa

I actually drew about a year ago, crazy to see how much I’ve improved since then (compared to the Dido piece I posted yesterday). Apparently it’s House Raa week here - Pulvis et umbra sumis.

[circeauandromedus]

An updated moodboard for my Red Rising OC, Circe au Andromedus.

[thedragonagelesbian]

its so hard to get a good pic of it with the in-game camera angles but the way raas' horns fit perfectly around their hair is one of my favorite parts of their design

[ankitiseepy]

NAVRATRI SHURU HO GAYI IM SO EXCITED JWHAHJSJSJSK

[lucysgraybird]

Ooo maybe something with Billy x reader where he arrives at her home all beat up since he’s on the run and doesn’t wants to go anywhere else, so reader has to take care of the cuts on his face or something.

i love this so much anything billy hurt/comfort related makes me RAA!! i hope this is what you wanted. if its not literally send me another ask i will be so happy to write another version (later tho my laptop is about to die)

injured!billy x fem!reader

There is something about living in the middle of nowhere that makes you wary of knocks on your door at any time. In the middle of the night, the rapping has you grabbing your father’s shotgun off its hooks above the door and readying it as you slide the latch and swing the door open. 

Perhaps a normal person would find what was stood on your doorstep unsavoury, but it was only relief that courses through your body at the silhouette of the infamous outlaw, Billy the Kid. It had been so long since you had heard from him, and you had tried to tamp down your anxieties by assuring yourself that you would’ve heard if he had been killed. It had worked about as well as tamping gunpowder: every time news arrived from town, your heart was off like a shot, worried it would be a tale of his capture or worse. 

In the split second that you allow his presence to soothe you, he steps into one of the stripes of moonlight across your porch, and that momentary peace climbs back up your throat with bile on its tail. You barely manage to set your shotgun down properly before you’re reaching for his beaten-up face, turning it this way and that to inspect the damage.

“What happened, Billy? Who-”

One of his hands comes up and closes around your wrist: he doesn’t say anything, but it stills you long enough to see the exhaustion in his eyes, and you drop your hands. 

“Come in, then,” you sigh, and use the hold he’s got on your wrist to lead him into your house. He settles at your kitchen table while you gather your meager medical supplies – little more than strips of cloth and strong alcohol, but it’ll have to do. 

His face is bloody and bruised, and far too dirty for you to see the real injuries, so you start by taking a damp cloth to the caked-on dust. 

“You’re on the run again,” you say. It should be a question, but isn’t. 

“Trouble seems to find me,” Billy replies, voice raspy and tired. “Can’t escape it.”

“Maybe you should try a little harder.” 

You don’t mean the vitriol that curls around your words – or you don’t mean to show it to him. Your anger is yours, and ought to stay that way. It isn’t his fault that life dealt him a rotten hand of cards, even if it means you don’t see him for months at a time and that you’re always afraid that you’ve lost him and will never get the closure of public mourning. A good country girl, daughter of the general store manager and set to take it over one day, would not love an outlaw enough to grieve him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. His irises are bright under the grit and grime – windows to the soul. 

“‘s not your fault,’’ you whisper. 

Tears sting the back of your throat and you swallow them, unwilling to cry in front of him while he’s hurting for real. To his credit, he doesn’t say anything, even though you know he noticed. He lets you clean the cuts on his face and hands with minimal complaint, though there’s a unique sting to an antiseptic that will have even the most hardened criminals wincing. You bandage his knuckles and try not to lose it when he lifts your fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. The kerosene lamp is burning low. 

“You’re going to have to leave again.”

The words trip out of your mouth. Once again, no matter how you wish it, this is not a question. You’ll be lucky if he’s here in the morning. As if sensing that it’s unnecessary, he gives the barest nod. 

Something bold sparks in your chest. Maybe it’s the relief of seeing him again, maybe it’s the lingering adrenaline from the knock on the door, maybe it’s the way the moonlight is the brightest thing in the room. 

Whatever it is, you say, “Take me with you.”

Before he can protest, you drop into the chair facing him and take his hands in (gentle) earnest. 

“I can’t do this again. I can’t do the not knowing, I can’t do you showing up like this every couple of months. I wouldn’t be a dead weight; I can ride and shoot and cook, and maybe one day we can go somewhere far from here and make a real life for ourselves.”

“I can’t promise–”

“Even if we can’t, Billy, I want to be with you.”

He just stares at you in a confused, sleepy silence. It’s too much for him now, battered as he is, but you don’t care. 

“You need someone to patch you up,” you plead. “I love you. Let me be there.”

A beat, and then two. You realize you haven’t thought about what you’re going to do if he says no; what will happen to your soul when you wake up alone tomorrow.

“It’ll be dangerous,” he says finally. “You’ll be an outlaw too.”

“That’s okay,” you say, even though it kind of isn’t. You’ll make it okay, though. For him.

“You shouldn’t give up everything for me, honey, I ain’t worth it.”

It breaks your heart, that he doesn’t know that he is everything, at least to you. 

“I’m not giving up anything. I’d be getting something more.”

He sighs, realizing that he’s not going to break your resolve. 

“Then we better get some rest, ‘cause we’re gonna have to leave at dawn.”

You try to hide the joy that unfurls through your arms and fingers at his capitulation. You know life will be different – that it will probably be harder – but it all pales in the light of getting to stay by his side, the closest to marriage the two of you will probably ever achieve. You can’t kiss him for fear of hurting his busted lip, but your fingertips fizz over his knee as a smile spreads across his face, and in the face of such solace and cheer, he can’t help but smile back. 

[zorosleftmantit101]

One Piece characters, as shit I've sent to my group chat.

Characters: strawhats + law kid and killer

C/W: swearing, I have zero shame

A/N: my stomach is sore RAA 🇺🇸🦅

Luffy: Guys, I'm gonna kms, I just dropped my slushie.

Zoro: I never apologise I'm always right. Zoro: I am Batman  

Franky: Kinda gay ngl Franky: would burn

Usopp: MY DADDY IS MY SUPERHERO

Sanji: I have something very important to say Nami: Kill yourself

Talking about Halloween costumes

Franky: like a sexy cowgirl Nami: If you're coming to my house, absolutely not Franky: Slut Franky: Fine Franky: I'll be grandma Nami: my grandma usually comes and sits outside the house Franky: I will distract her with my cowgirl moves Franky: Yeehaa Nami: KYS Franky: hear me out Franky: Cowgirl with nipples out. *Franky has been removed from the GC*

Robin: I'm going to #hell

Luffy: I sent a vid shitting Robin: god Nami: TO LAW? Luffy: maybe...

Franky: girls cant shit Franky: ideot Franky Your crazy

Killer: I'm so sorry Kid: I'm not Kid: I have no regrets

Usopp: OR I WILL FISH IT OUT YOUR INTESTINES FROM YOUR URETHRA Nami: should probably not go anywhere near my uti riddled pussy rn

Sanji: are you a duck because I wanna check inside your butt-quack Nami: again should probably not be around my nether regions unless you want pink eyes. Sanji: Is its bubble gum pink Nami: It's moss green

Law: Luffy can you please explain to me why I just watched a video of you shitting with very good sound quality Lufft: Ummm uh umm, the real question is, are you hard yet Law: I'm always hard

Luffy: I just ate like six churros I don't know what end but something is projecting out of somewhere.

[phoenixcatch7]

Bunch of dc story ideas because I keep forgetting to write them down and they're not fully fleshed out anyway:

Captain marvel gets 'deaged', either through klarion or something he ran into doing duty around the Rock, and flees to the first safe place he can think of - the watchtower. Unfortunately, Billy assumed the curse would simply revert him to his mortal form, or close enough... But the champion of magic form turns out to have been a disguise in more ways than one, because this new body most certainly isn't human.

Similarly, cap gets deaged to Billy's age, but he's still... The champion of magic form. Now Billy batson has full access to his full set of powers and skills, but in his mortal shape. This is going to really help his secret identity :'). Especially because the villains KEEP ATTACKING PEOPLE PLEASE KNOCK IT OFF.

Meta!Batman. His rare power transformed him into a monster on the scale of killer Croc or man bat, and also enabled him to turn into a human. A completely normal. Baseline human. It's infuriating that a normal person has to worry about meta blockers or inhibitor cuffs, especially after his (slightly fudged to keep the traffickers out) statistical announcement of 'no metas in Gotham' got presumed to be a demand, because he had to call in the league to help with a fighting ring and now he's hiding in a dark room while superman tries to coax him out. Man bat already stole the niche, it's just embarrassing.

Possessed doll au! When an 8yo Bruce falls into a cave under his house, he had nightmares about tea parties and flapping wings and wooden limbs for years. Nearly a decade later, he returned to find a sprawling system of tunnels and cracks, through one of which lies an abandoned, life sized marionette tea party, with empty porcelain tea cups and old, outdated gowns. The torch lights upon the doll at the head of the table, a tall, imposing man with chipped paint, dressed all in black, his joints rusted and head lolling. Bats screech from the darkness as he approaches, and when he touches its hand the world goes black. It's terrifying to wake up in a body of wood, hearing it creak and twist, hearing it scream as he cries. He wakes up back in his own body, sprawled on the floor, and runs. He's back down in a few months, this time bound and determined to figure it out. It turns out whatever it is, it has no malice. Indeed it makes for a wonderful, powerful body once he's cleaned it up, able to move and bend in ways no human could. He can hollow it out carefully and fill it with whatever items he might need. A body that doesn't need to breathe or eat, one that can take a beating, night after night. It takes him a long time to wonder why the dolls have precisely as many people as the manor eventually does. In the meantime the people of Gotham are 90% sure their protectors aren't human. And the jl is terrified of the cave. (cryptid, cave is haunted au?)

Venom!dp x dc twin au. Danyal and Damian were the league famous demon twins, the dual gems in its crown, until Danyal is killed. Raas, furious and refusing to lose his other grandchild, starts pushing Damian harder and harder while his brother is taken to the pit as a last resort. To the adults' knowledge, it didn't work. Danny's body dissolved in the acidic waters. To Damian's knowledge, his brother returned as a desperate, animalistic thing one night, seeping through the cracks of his room. Refusing to let his brother go again, Damian demands they be reunited as one, and Danny fuses with his very skin. Once his mind returns, Danny returns the sentiment, both deeply terrified of being pulled apart again. They communicate through reflections and whispers, sharing control of the body by transforming between human and ghost, sharing powers and instincts equally. When they're sent to Wayne manor, they're restless and defensive. They have each other, no one else can discover Danny, no one else can separate them again. Their father must never find out.

Thanagerian!Danny. He's a couple generations removed on his mother's side, so he doesn't even realise until his ghost form appears with two gorgeous wings. It really adds to the psychopomp symbolism, at least? He has a lot of questions when he meets the justice league. No wonder vlad never successfully managed to clone him!

Shapeshifter captain marvel. Please. He's apprenticing under tawky ^^

[rambheem-is-real]

Cross My Heart Pt 3

pairing: varadeva

pt 2 here

surprise they're not dead

-

Varadha gently strokes down the side of Deva’s face with one hand, smiling at how peaceful Deva looks in his arms, using his other hand to shield Deva’s face from the rays of the sun. He briefly notices a few new wrinkles forming around Deva’s eyes, and can’t help the satisfaction that the sight causes him. 

The movement stirs Deva into waking up from his nap. Varadha watches as Deva blinks a few times, adjusting to the brightness, then yawns. He can’t take it anymore, and drops a small kiss onto Deva’s greying hairline, shifting so he’s in Deva’s view. 

“Na Kumbhakarnudi nidra aipoyinda? [Is my Kumbhakaranudu’s sleep over?]” 

Deva rolls his eyes at him. “You were the one who told me to take a nap and now you insult me like this? What has this world come to?” Despite the words, his tone is light and teasing. Deva juts his chin forward, and Varadha obliges, leaning down for a proper kiss. 

“Not just the nap,” Varadha laughs, when he eventually pulls back. “Who asked for a fourth dosa this morning? With extra karam podi? Now we’ve run out of your favorite podi, and I have to go to the market again.” 

Deva just gives him that small smile of his, that Varadha adores so much, that Deva knows Varadha adores so much. “Not you complaining when we both know you love gossiping with the rava mill elders on your way back.”

Varadha shakes his head. “Caught. I’ll tell you all about what I learned when I come back home, then.”

“I’ll be waiting for it.” 

He moves Deva off of himself, and lightly stretches before standing up. Deva watches from the ground, and Varadha smirks as he notices the glint in Deva’s eyes. 

“See something you like?” he teases. 

Deva’s face softens. “Something I love, actually,” he replies, and Varadha blushes. 

“Alright, alright. Time to go back home, Amma will be waiting.” 

Deva waits for a few seconds as Varadha comes back with the wheelchair, then holds his arms up so Varadha can lift him and place him in the seat of the wheelchair. Deva’s hands only shake slightly as he buckles himself up and maneuvers himself around to face the stone path leading out of the flower field. Varadha follows Deva along the path back home, the two of them continuing to bicker about the dosas. 

Varadha had remembered the promise he made to Deva as kids, remembered vowing to take care of an injured Deva no matter how long it was in the future. And he had had no intention of breaking that promise. 

In the years after the trial in Khansaar, Deva had slowly started to lose control of his muscles, to the point where Varadha had bought Deva a wheelchair for long distance travel, basically anything that wasn’t a few feet around the house. They had many accidents, as well. One time Deva’s hand was shaking too hard to hold the jar of ghee tightly, and he had dropped the jar on the floor, spilling the contents everywhere. Another time Deva tried to stand up too quickly from their bed and his legs gave out, knocking over a vase on the nightstand. Both times, he had whispered, “Sorry raa,” with a face so full of guilt it devastated Varadha. This Deva had grown up blaming himself for everything, internalizing that he would be nothing but a burden to those who loved and cared for him, and Varadha was determined to show Deva how wrong he was. 

They reach home, still bickering, although now they’ve graduated to arguing over which condiment was best for idli, Deva disagreeing with Varadha on his preference for peanut chutney and extolling the virtues of a hot sambar. 

Amma smiles at them as they enter the house, seemingly busy with grinding some powders on the floor. Her hair is thinning, almost entirely white, and she’s gained a stoop over the last few years. However, Varadha’s glad he gets to see Amma like this, to see her age naturally rather than stay as pristine and regal as she was in his childhood. He wants to make so many new memories with her and Deva.  

Deva wheels himself to his and Varadha’s room, and Varadha follows. He parks the wheelchair at the side of the bed, and unbuckles himself. Varadha watches, on alert and ready to catch Deva if he falls, but Deva walks over to the bed easily enough, sighing as he sits down on the mattress. He looks up at Varadha sheepishly. 

“I guess the fresh air did help, I feel better than I did this morning.”

Varadha smirks. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes, you’re always right,” Deva teases. 

“I know that,” Varadha replies, grinning at Deva’s laugh. 

He takes a moment to observe his husband. Deva’s face has become lined with wrinkles, and Varadha’s especially proud of the smile marks near his eyes. His hair is peppered through with streaks of gray, thinning near his temples, and his skin has softened. The old scars running across Deva’s shoulders and down his arms have faded to a dull brown. Varadha loves him so much, still thinks Deva is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He doesn’t know how he made it through those seven years without Deva, especially so soon after he had just gotten Deva back after twenty-five years of separation. 

Varadha had hated him in the moment he had found Deva crouching near the body of his little brother, hands stained with Baachi’s blood. In a fit of grief, he had told Deva to leave, to never show his face again, and Deva, too horrified to argue and tell Varadha what had really happened, left Khansaar that day. In the next few years, Varadha had warred with both guilt and rage, and then later, confusion. The facts didn’t add up, why would Deva hurt Baachi of all people? Varadha had tried his best to forget Deva, tried to move on, but he knew deep down that the pain of losing Deva was even worse than Deva’s betrayal. And when Deva himself came back, seven years later? Varadha knew he had to find out what really happened that day. He stormed into the cell, looked at Deva sitting on the bench with his arms chained up, and demanded to know the truth. Deva had explained what happened, eyes closed, voice soft, and oh, Varadha really felt like a fool. Deva hadn’t hurt Baachi, that had been Bhaarava, who Deva had disposed of shortly after. 

“Yedava [idiot],” Varadha had said, tears threatening to slip down his face. “Why didn’t you tell me when I yelled at you? When I assumed it had been you that killed my brother?”

Deva opened his eyes, not bothering to stop his own tears. “I promised you,” He had whispered. “I promised to protect Baachi, and I failed. I was too late, I was too slow, to stop Bhaarava’s blade.”

Varadha couldn’t hold himself back anymore, and embraced Deva, who buried his face into Varadha’s stomach, sobbing. 

“I’m so sorry,” was the only thing Deva kept repeating, and Varadha could only shush him soothingly. His mind was racing, however. Deva was not responsible for Baachi’s death, he really was innocent. No way in hell was Varadha going to let his own men execute Deva now. He pulled back from Deva, just enough for Deva to rest his chin on Varadha’s chest, eyes full of misplaced guilt and grief. 

Varadha stroked through Deva’s hair, thinking. He couldn’t not go through with the execution, Deva had in fact broken the seal and his own rule. He had sworn to be fair and responsible when he had assumed Khansaar’s throne, and he couldn’t go back on his own vows. But he couldn’t kill Deva either. 

Oh. 

“I have a plan. Will you come with me?” Varadha asked Deva. 

Deva didn’t ask what this was about, didn’t raise any objections. “Anywhere,” he said, and Varadha felt the same overwhelming love he felt when Deva had chopped off Naarang’s head for him. Of course Deva would come with him, he would follow Varadha to the ends of the Earth if Varadha asked. 

Varadha smiled down at Deva, who he could tell was getting increasingly confused at the shift in Varadha’s behavior, but he couldn’t help it. He really had missed Deva’s love. 

“In a few minutes, Bilal is going to come down here. Listen to him, do whatever he tells you,” he had told Deva, before he walked out of the cells, thinking about the two executions he would be faking soon. 

Varadha’s roused out of the memory when Deva pokes his chest. “Entra [what dude], what are we thinking about, so deeply right now?” Varadha allows Deva to pull him into his lap and wrap his arms around Varadha’s waist. 

“Just Bilal, and the Khansaar I left behind.” Deva’s face softens, and Varadha knows he understands. Varadha had taken his duties as karta seriously, and Deva knew that Varadha often felt guilty for abandoning his people so suddenly. 

“Do you want to visit?” he asks, but Varadha shakes his head, smiling.

“I have everything I need right here, why would I go back?” He kisses Deva’s brow, and then when Deva still looks guilty, the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you raa, you have always been my first priority.” 

Deva looks to the side. “If it hadn’t been for my condition, we could be in Khansaar right now. You could’ve worked something out about the seal, and you would’ve still been in the position you wanted so deeply. And I wouldn’t be useless right now.” 

Varadha’s heart sinks. He knows there’s still a lot of work to be done, a lot of internalized thoughts Deva has to work through, and he has to remind himself to be patient. “Rey. Bujji. Bangaram,” he says, pulling Deva by the jaw to face Varadha again, noticing the faint blush on Deva’s cheeks from the nicknames. “I know you like to pretend you’re some Devadas, filled with so much love for me that you’re willing to do anything for me, but consider just once that it goes the other way as well. And you’re not useless. I’m here because I care for you, and I’m going to stay with you until the end.” He leans in to kiss Deva’s lips, pushing all the affection he can muster into the kiss. 

They stay together for a few moments, and then Deva pulls back first, sighing. “I know you love me, you’ve told me many times. But..”

“You’re not able to believe it,” Varadha finishes. Deva nods, frustrated. “Well, we still have a few more decades to go, ‘till death do us part’ and all that.” They both grin at each other at the memory of their elopement, and the chaotic way they had gotten married, mixing traditions from around the world as neither of them felt religious enough to do the standard Hindu wedding. “I’ll get through to you one day.” 

It’s Deva that initiates the kiss this time, and deepens it as well. Varadha moans as Deva licks inside his mouth, and feels the familiar heat stir up in his groin. It’s when Deva’s fingers snake inside Varadha’s kurta, feeling their way around his waist and up his back, when Varadha remembers he has a job to do. Sighing internally, he pulls back, placing a finger on Deva’s lips when he chases Varadha instinctively. 

“Podi, remember?” Deva pouts, but lets go of Varadha, who stands up. “I’ll be back soon raa.”

“No you won’t, you’ll spend ten minutes talking to the elders on your way back,” Deva teases, and gets flicked for that. Laughing, Varadha makes his way out of the room, running into Amma. 

“I’ll be going to the market for the podi, Amma,” he tells her. 

She frowns, thinking. “I think we’re out of curry leaves as well. Could you get some of those as well?”

“Of course, Amma.”

-

During dinner, as he waves Amma off from serving them both, volunteering to do it instead, then playfully stealing the last appalam off Deva’s plate and hiding behind Amma so Deva can’t reach him, Varadha thinks everything he had gone through was worth it if it ended like this. He’s never felt as happy after the Shouryanga massacre as he does now, always stuck in survival mode or suffering from the weight of his responsibilities. As he looks at Deva pouting at Amma, saying how unfair it was that Varadha got to take his appalam, that he was taking advantage of a disabled man, and Amma hiding her smile at her son’s antics, Varadha’s only regret is that the remaining members of their family couldn’t be here today. 

Amma would have loved to spoil Baachi, he thinks. Dhaara would have adored his brother as well, probably taking him for piggyback rides the way he had done with a young Varadha. He swallows, suddenly feeling the decades old grief return. I hope they both are happy, wherever they are, Varadha thinks, sending a prayer to whatever cosmic entity might be listening. 

Amma notices Varadha’s silence, and tuts. “Oh, is the pappu not good? Is it too spicy again?”

Varadha just shakes his head. He knows there are tears in his eyes when he replies, “It’s perfect, Amma.”

Amma seems to understand who Varadha is thinking of, and pats his head, smoothing the hair back. “I miss him too, kanna [little one]. But I’m glad you both are with me now.” She sends a loving look to Deva, who, even after a few years of reconciling with his mother, looks surprised at the affection. “My two sons, back with me.” 

-

Later that night, he carries Deva back to their room, tucking him in and getting into bed as well. 

“-so it turns out he wasn’t having an affair at all, he just lost a fight with a cat and wasn’t about to admit to the scars being from the cat,” Varadha finishes telling Deva all the gossip the elders had told him. 

Deva laughs. “Cats are fearsome creatures, I don’t know why he’s pretending like his ego is bruised or something.”

“Exactly. Now his wife left him and his kids hate him.”

Deva makes a sympathetic sound, but continues. “Well, it’s his fault that both of those happened.”

“Speaking of little animals…” It’s mostly dark in the room, but Varadha shifts so his face is illuminated by the few orange rays of light coming through the window, and makes his eyes wide as possible. He knows how irresistible Deva finds the cute act on him, and makes sure to turn up the pout to an extreme. “We should get that dog we were talking about.”

Deva blinks at him, clearly disarmed. “The dog you wanted when you were six?”

“Yep. You said we could have one when we were older and living together. Now we’re older and are living together. What’s stopping us?”

Deva sighs, but Varadha can make out the faint smile, and smirks. His act had worked. “Alright, you can go to the pet store tomorrow and pick out whatever dog you want,” Deva says. “Now come here so I can spoon you.”

“You’re too hot, I always wake up sweaty,” Varadha whines, but they both know it’s an empty complaint as Varadha immediately turns to let Deva cuddle his back. 

“You love it though,” a sleepy Deva mumbles. “Cause you love me.”  Varadha stills, but a few minutes later all he can hear is Deva’s snores. He smiles as he closes his eyes as well. Well that was progress, he thinks, as he falls asleep.

-

tagging those who interacted with pt 2: @coolsoundingusername @recentinterest @stuckyandlarrystuff @illusions-of-serendipity

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

HI! I've been reading through some old posts and i was wondering if you could explain how Arjun did raas with lord krishna? <3

Hello!

So the bit you're referring to is not actually from the Mahabharat. It's from the Padma Purana's pātāla-khanda.

This tiny story is a part of the dialogue that occurs between two people in the future as is the typical narrative style of these tales. It goes something like:

Arjun is curious to know all sorts of details about the raas-leela- where does it happen, how many gopis are there, who are they etc etc. Krishna is cryptic, as usual, and tells him that a man simply cannot perceive it even if the said man is more precious to him than life itself to him. Therefore, it's no use asking. Arjun is Disappointed™. Krishna is soft for him so he tells him it's fine and that he shouldn't worry about it because he'll see for himself. Then he instructs him to go to a goddess(Tripāsundari, to be exact) who will help him.

Arjun goes to her, prays to her and calls to her. She appears, pleased by his devotion and adoration. She also asks him a rhetorical question, that I personally find funny, which basically is along the lines of "What makes you so special that Krishna is letting you have this one thing that no other mortal, deity or ascetic can have?" She doesn't wait for an answer, because I think she already knew and then proceeds to give Arjun a list of prayer related tasks to worship her properly. After he follows her instructions, she and her friend show him Radha's house and vrindavan. Then she tells him to take dip in an auspicious lake and he does and emerges as a beautiful woman.

(At this point, I will be using she/her pronouns for Arjun/Arjuni because that's what the story says.)

Arjuni rises from the lake, having forgotten everything about her male self. There's a lot of poetic waxing about how alluring and attractive her voice, physicality and personality are. She happens upon a bunch of women(the gopis, obviously) who are equally as beautiful and charming as her. All the gopis are very lovely, actually and ask her who she is and how she happened to end up there and kind of soothe Arjuni's anxiety and then all of them introduce themselves. They say that they used to sages in their past life and are now gopis who participate in raas leela with Krishna.

They take her to lake, play with her, bathe her etc etc. It's all VERY sapphic, trust me. There's also a lot of praying involved. After the initiation is over, Arjuni meets Radha. More praying and devotion.

Pleased by all this devotion, Krishna asks Radha to bring Arjuni to him who promptly breaks out into sweaty excitement upon seeing him.

(Okay, now, I guess I'm obligated to inform you that what follows is very...sexual in nature. BUT a lot of Indian spiritual texts consider the sexual and the spiritual to be interconnected. Take from this what you will, I guess.)

The text goes on to describe Krishna's body in HEAVY detail (including equating his thighs to tree trunks?) that makes me genuinely worried that whoever wrote this was incredibly horny. He takes her hand and they um... participate in the leela.

When it's over, Arjuni is Exhausted from all the activity and Krishna tells her to go take a dip in the lake again. She does.

(Back to he/him pronouns people, keep up.)

Arjun surfaces and is dejected from the loss of something so wonderful. Krishna consoles him by saying that they are Dear Friends, as the historians say, and that only he knows something that no one else in three loka does. And if Arjun tells anyone what he has experienced he will curse Krishna. Again, hilarious because if you remember I said that this story is being told to us in a dialogue of TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE. Which means other people already know. Clownery of the highest order, really.

And then they go home. The end?

I hope this helps. I paraphrased a lot but I couldn't just paste the entire thing here. I've given you all the tools to go search for orginal text and translation yourself.

TL: DR Arjun gets instant lake-HRT for one night, participates in the raas-leela, and then goes home.

-Mod S

[katsuki-king-of-twinks]

Fucking... I feel so bad for Cassius, man. Nobody likes him. He is universally hated by all groups and factions.

Every member of the Rising dislikes and mistrusts him because he killed Ares.

Society remnants despise him bc he was an Olympic Knight who forsook his oath and helped kill the Sovereign.

The Rim hates him bc he was complicit in the slaughter at Darrow's triumph where a daughter of House Raa was killed, and in the death of the Joy Knight who was Dido's illegitimate brother.

Like... the only people who love him are Lysander and Darrow. And Lysander fucking sucks, so he doesn't even count.

[asma-al-husna]

Allah calls Himself Al-Waarith—The Inheritor, the Heir— on one occasion in the Quran. Al-Waarith is the One who remains after the extinction of everyone and everything. He is the only One to whom all will return; He is the sole inheritor and owner of the whole creation!

The Inheritor, The Supreme Heir

Waarith comes from the root waaw-raa-thaa, which points to four main meanings. The first meaning is to inherit. The second main meaning is to be an heir or survivor, and the third is to be the owner or maintainer after one has passed.

This root appears 35 times in the Quran in five derived forms. Examples of these forms are narithu (“we will inherit”), meeraathu (“(the) heritage”), and al waaritheena (” the inheritors”).

Linguistically, waratha refers to the action of inheriting whereas waarith is the one doing the action, the inheritor and al-meeraath is the inheritage. Even though there is the concept of heirs and inheritance of worldly possessions in this world, Al-Waarith is the supreme Heir to whom the heritage of the heavens and earth belongs.

Al-Waarith Himself says: . . . And indeed, it is We who give life and cause death, and We are the Inheritor [Quran, 15:23] …And to Allah belongs the heritage of the heavens and the earth. And Allah , with what you do, is [fully] Acquainted. [Quran, 3:180]

Inheritance in the Quran

Al-Waarith says: It is not for a believer, man or woman, when Allah and His Messenger have decreed a matter that they should have any opinion in their decision. And whoever disobeys Allah and His Messenger, has indeed strayed into a plain error. [Quran, 33:36] As believers we find guidance regarding the Islamic rulings on inheritance in detail in the Quran. The law of inheritance has been given in the Quran in Surah An-Nisaa, in ayaat 11 and 12 and then in ayah 176 and it is part of faith to refer to these at all times.

How Can You Live By This Name?

1. Know that you will return to Al-Waarith.

Don’t stick to worldly possessions and don’t let them distract you from obedience to the one to whom both your possessions, yourself and your actions, will return. Don’t look for success in wealth and status, big cars and houses, if it compromises your relationship with Allah ‘azza wa jall— even though society pushes through this concept of “success.” Raise your children in putting Al-Waarith first in their actions and remind yourself often that very soon you will return to Him and you won’t be able to take any of your possessions in this world.

2. Say inna lillaahi wa inna ilayhi raji’oon.

Al-Waarith says: Who, when disaster strikes them, say, Indeed we belong to Allah , and indeed to Him we will return. [Quran, 2:156] Say inna lillaahi wa inna lillaahi raji’oon not only when someone passes away, but whenever a disaster or trial hits you, even if it is the loss of an object. Revive the sunnah and use this dhikr in times of loss!

3. Reflect on the ownership of Al-Waarith.

Take a look around you; everything you see– and don’t see— belongs to Allah. He gave you all the possessions you have— your car, your house, your children, your health, and even your time. Al-Waarith says: The kingdom of the heavens and the earth and everything in them belongs to Allah. He has power over all things. [Quran, 5:120] Realize Al-Waarith owns everything, nothing belongs to you, not even your own soul, and praise Him and ask Him for guidance to use your “possessions” to gain His pleasure. When you lose something or someone console yourself with the fact it was Allah’s to begin with.

4. Follow the rulings on inheritance of the Quran and sunnah.

The rulings and laws regarding inheritance in Islam are laid out in the Quran and demonstrated in the sunnah; refer to them in any situation, whether it brings you worldly benefit or not. Some of us follow their own rules of inheritance to gain more financial benefit, this is a grave sin and disobedience to Al-Waarith. So ask Him to guide you to stick to His rulings at all times!

5. Ask Al-Waarith.

The Messenger of Allaah salallahu ‘alayhi wa sallam used to say:

اللَّهُمَّمَتِّعْنِيبِسَمْعِي،وَبَصَرِي،وَاجْعَلْهُمَاالْوَارِثَمِنِّي،وَانْصُرْنِيعَلَىمَنْيَظْلِمُنِي،وَخُذْمِنْهُبِثَأْرِي

O Allaah, make my hearing and my sight strong, and make them my heirs (i.e., keep them strong until I die), and support me against the one who has wronged me, and avenge me. [Al-Bukhaari] Use this supplication in your daily life!

In the Quran you can find supplications in which waaritheen (inheritors) is used:

وَاجْعَلْنِيمِنوَرَ‌ثَةِجَنَّةِالنَّعِيم

And place me among the inheritors of the Garden of Pleasure. [Quran, 26:85]

وَزَكَرِ‌يَّاإِذْنَادَىٰرَ‌بَّهُرَ‌بِّلَاتَذَرْ‌نِيفَرْ‌دًاوَأَنتَخَيْرُ‌الْوَارِ‌ثِينَ

And [mention] Zechariah, when he called to his Lord, “My Lord, do not leave me alone [with no heir], while you are the best of inheritors. [Quran, 21:89]

Wallahu ta’alaa ‘alem.

O Allah, Al-Waarith, we know that You are the Inheritor of the heavens and earth. Aid us in using our worldly possessions to gain Your pleasure, guide us in remembering frequently that we will return to You and make us act upon this knowledge. Help us to abide by Your laws and make us of those that will inherit the highest Paradise, ameen!

[thegorydamnreaper]

Some thoughts on Romulus au Raa:

This is slightly spoilery, but mostly just some thoughts I had reading back on some Romulus chapters.

Romulus is named after the semi-mythological figure of the founder of Rome. That Romulus was raised by a she-wolf and was (by some accounts) a demigod son of Mars and a vestal virgin. His twin brother, Remus, is killed when they dispute who should rule the new city they founded.

Romulus au Raa allies himself with wolves (the Howlers) and it allows him to establish his independent Rim Dominion. There’s a further connection to the myth with the god Mars being a starting point (as a “father”) paralleling how it is soldiers of Mars (the planet) that are the foundation for Raa’s new world. Both Mars are the source of a rough beginning, with the twins almost dying in the myth and with the destruction of the Docks. May be a stretch, but there’s still a connection there!

It’s also interesting to note that while Atlas and Romulus are not twins, Atlas is responsible for Romulus’s death as retribution for betraying the Society. It’s almost as if after thousands of years Remus is getting his piece of revenge, ironically using the veil of politics to justify it.

[circeauandromedus]

Diomedes au Raa Red Rising Aesthetic Board 2/?

I had to make an aesthetic board for my favourite Storm Knight.

None of the above pictures belong to me. They were sourced on Pinterest.

[thedragonagelesbian]

Approaching spellblade thru fire magic is so wild. Famously volatile uncontrollable dangerous element being handled in extremely close quarters that's liable to hurt you as much as it hurts your enemy. Impeccable thematic stuff for raas.

[thisdayinredrising]

November 1st

753 PCE

Ephraim abducts Pax, Electra, and Lyria from Quicksilver's birthday party

Cassius and Lysander arrive on Io and get dragged into Dido's coup.

Cassius is forced to duel multiple Golds of House Raa after being exposed during dinner with the family.

For an explanation of how this date was calculated, see this blog's pinned post for a link to my timeline notes on AO3.

[sinistergooseberries]

so i am listening to naaloney pongenu from surya s/o krishnan. and there was a line

naathoti raa inti varaku

which basically means come home with me

for some reason the only image that comes to mind is varadha leading deva somewhere and honestly im here for it. and now i have a nice hc where after the everything ends and deva and varadha realise they are being played left and right by radha rama (queen fr pls marry me 🥰💖😭🫦) and basically defeat her ig?

and then varadha leads deva to the throne? or maybe his old house where they used to live before dhaara was killed. the nails have been removed, the doors have been replaced, the bloodstains wiped off and everything looks like different.? anyways it doesnt matter. all that i wanna say is : varadha calls him back home. he says "come with me. be with me. live with me."

the MAIN thing i wanted to convey was. varadha taking and taking from deva, decides he needs to be the one doing the giving this time. he calls deva home, HE gives deva the respite that the man deserves, HE is doing the service! HE becomes home for deva, just like deva has become one for him this is making me jump in my seat ftr