Kaanha-ki-barkat - There Is No Charm Equal To Tenderness Of Heart.

Although often taken for granted, Google Earth is an incredible feat accomplished by mankind that people 300 years ago would have considered completely mental.

Before kidnapping Sita, Ravana raped Rambha, Queen of the apsaras, and her husband Nalkuber cursed Ravana that if he ever raped another woman, his head would split in seven. This curse later protected Sita from the worst of Ravana’s torments. So I’d like a fic where Nalkuber goes off on Rama that if Ravana has raped Sita, his curse would have taken effect, and how dare Rama disregard a god’s curse, and what did Rambha suffer for then?

It lingers in Nalkuber’s memory, later; after all is said and done.

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crowley makes signs on pull doors say push and routinely runs face first into them

What if Aziraphale and Crowley really are immune to hellfire and holy water respectively, at least to an extent? Crowley has been shown to have a heart and he didn't really mean to Fall. And Aziraphale isn't completely angelic himself either. Or, as cheesy, as it is, their love for each other is what made them immune. Of course, we'll never know due to the body swap.

That’d be kinda hilarious that they came up with this genius plan for nothing, but that also sounds like the kind of mistake they’ll totally make

Rama and Krishna trading places

for @medhasree

“You killed him,” says one of Kaliya’s wives in a voice devoid of all feeling, even as her husband sinks deeper into the waters of the Yamuna. “He was poisoning our waters, and the very air we breathe,” Balarama says, even as his heart yearns after the greatest part of him lying coiled at the edge of the universe. Almost he could slip into the waters himself and, unaffected, slip his arms around his kinswomen to comfort them. Rama, on the banks, cleans his arrows and slips them into a quiver comically big for him, and says, “I killed him, as I kill all monsters who trouble my people.” “We are ourselves everywhere hunted by Garuda,”another wife protests. “If you retaliate by poisoning mortals, you turn from victims to villains yourself. Betake yourselves to Ramanaka Island, and live unharmed.”

“I would love nothing more,” Krishna reassures Surpanakha, “for I cannot remember when last I saw a woman so divinely lovely, bedecked in all the treasures the world can offer and yet needing none to add to her own beauty.” The rakshasi pauses, and the following smile has a distinct gleam of fangs. “You flatter masterfully, mortal, but I can hear a lie. You would love nothing more, yet surely you will find a reason to refuse me.” “I would love nothing more,” Krishna repeats, “but I have a wife already.” “An obstacle easily removed,” Surpanakha suggests, grinning wider than her slender face should allow. Lakshmana springs to his feet, outraged, but then sits again, arrow unnocked, at Krishna’s amused gesture. “But if you kill her I would mourn a hundred summers and scarcely be in a mood for love. You are far too intelligent to think otherwise.” “Since when do mortal men limit themselves to a single wife?” the rakshasi queries. Krishna grins back at her, sunny and careless. “My own father has three queens, and the jealousy of one has brought us to this forest. So I cannot take you for a wife unless you renounce your royal life and live with us as a mendicant, for to do otherwise would cause resentment in my wife. Yet I cannot ask you to sacrifice your life and all its many enjoyments to live with us as my wife does, for that would anger you. You see my dilemma?” “I… yes,” says Surpanakha. “I will have your brother then, if I cannot have you.” “You could marry him,” Krishna allows. “But he is sworn to celibacy, so I would not advise it for one so given to pleasure as you are, O sensuous one.”

“Of course we will fight for you, with all the might Dwaraka has,” Rama assures the Pandavas. “I could hardly do less when my kinsmen are offered insult, and one I have long called a sister.” “One might argue,” says Prince Satyajit, “that it was Yudhishtira who offered insult to our sister, by waging her as he might his slaves.” It is the position Panchal has been taking on the matter, Panchali not excepted, and even Yudhishtira has grown inured enough to offer no ,ore than a tired flinch. “If he were playing against an honourable man, such a wager would not have been accepted, any more than you would trust a drunkard with your beloved child,” Rama says. “It makes no matter; we go to war not for petty faults, but because of dharma and adharma.” “Then must we wait,” Draupadi asks, “while the world grows heavy with adharma? What keeps us from war this instant?” “A vow binds you,” Rama reminds her, gentle and inexorable as a god. “But it does not bind us,” Satyajit points out. Rama’s answering laugh lights up the day, shakes birds from the trees.

Krishna is the one who fetches his wife from the Asoka grove, swings her off her feet laughing, kisses the tears from her eyes, and tells her, “I know this will be difficult for you after all our years in seclusion, but we must do it for the army, and to stifle any rumours before they raise their heads.” In front of the army he embraces her again, this time a conquering hero and not a relieved husband, and says in the voice that massed regiments can hear in the din of battle, “Now is my life lit up again, with Janaka’s chaste daughter in my arms. All my war has been but for this, that I may have my wife by my side once more.”

If you need me

I’ll be locked in my room reading Letterboxd reviews of the Netflix original movie “The Knight Before Christmas”.

I mean... these are literally just the ones that show up at the top

They’re all like this

It’s just one giant roast

And endless shit posting

It is different in browser, but not my fandoms!

Welcome to Tumblr.

OH MY GOD! This is amazing!!

nobody was impressed with this cause they thought it was a photo so i spent like 50 hours painting it for nothing

we’re all distracted by the beautiful queer love between an angel and a demon but can we talk about Adam Young? about Adam as, well, as Adam, as the first man, the first representative of all humanity? it’s not a mistake or coincidence the baby wound up with that name, of course. (ineffable…)

he might have been Satan’s son but he is raised human, by humans, with humans. he is human, in all his upbringing and outlook and emotions, in all his flawed glory. he is proud, yes, and he is a leader (the Them always have looked to him, he has the best ideas) and yet he loves. he loves so deeply and so selfishly, in that very Pratchettian way – selfishly, yes, because he makes everything he loves into his own, and so he protects it as he’d protect himself. and isn’t that such a human thing to do? to take that flaw and make it something beautiful instead?

Tadfield is his Garden, is his youth and his innocence. he’d give the world to his friends but he… he would stay right there, he says. he’d stay in his Garden. it is his paradise, unspoiled, loved so much that Aziraphale felt it at once, that all the summers were perfect summers, that all the weather in general was idealized in a way which it never really is in reality. he reached out through his love and made the world better. and when he came into his powers, what spurred it? a boy’s naive but genuine desire to fix things. it wouldn’t have fixed anything, of course, in the end. he abused his power and hurt people accidentally, and could so easily have abused it more, worse… but the motivations were good. he wanted to help. to make it better. and isn’t that such a human flaw too? 

but at the end, through all of it… with the help of his Them – of his Horsepersons, who aren’t just concepts made by humans but are themselves human – and of the same angel and demon who were there at the very first – and that isn’t a mistake or coincidence, either – he knows. he understands. his father, his real father, the one who was there for him all along, says that he might not quite know what Adam did wrong, but that Adam does.

and he does. he knows. after 6000 years outside of the Garden, that first bite of the apple has finally come to, ha, fruition in Adam, that so entirely human boy. he knows what he did wrong. he knows the difference between good and evil. between right and wrong, and between Right and Wrong, too.  

or alternatively, ”Aziraphale, look! look at what what i did! i did the thing that you want me to do, Aziraphale! be proud of me! please come back now!”)