Rama And Krishna Trading Places

5 HCs AU: When Sita tries to call upon Bhumi Devi to swallow her up, nothing happens.

1. It is–not quite nothing, a rumble from the earth whispering Not yet, my daughter; but it is not the rest that Sita has wanted for so long. 

Around her, courtiers and commoners whisper alike of Maithali’s failure with as much surprise as satisfaction: now, at least, they can silence the lingering guilt at their part in their queen’s exile. Certainly she was to blame all along, and their King’s decision above reproach. 

Sita does not speak again, but turns to leave, head held high.

2. She goes back to her cottage in Valmiki’s hermitage, the only place–other than an abandoned hut in Panchavati–that feels like home. 

Some, Sita knows, might urge her on to giving up her life: but fire had let her pass unscathed, the son of wind spoken in her favor, and earth her mother forsaken her. Why ought she to imagine the waters might be any different?

In the back of her mind, faint but fixed, is the throb of anger; her husband’s wrath might threaten to destroy the world, but Sita’s is a thousand times more destructive. Lanka learned that lesson all too well; Sita closes her eyes and prays for peace. 

3. Kush might be the elder, but Luv the bolder, and Luv the one who asks her at last one night.

“Would you have left us?”

A mother’s instinct almost brings No, of course not to her lips; but Janaka’s daughter does not lie, no more than she hides from hard truths. 

“Yes,” she says. 

“With a father we scarcely know?”

“Your teacher’s stories–”

Luv scowls. “Are just that.” His mouth curls up, just as it did when he was five years old and refusing to eat his dinner. “You would have left us.”

Sita sighs, and holds out her arms to him. “And I never will again.”

4. “You might have been princes,” she reminds Kush, who should have been heir to Ayodhya. “You might have taken your rightful places.”

He only snorts. “And rule the same louts who scorned our mother? Never.”

She does not dare admit that she is proud of him, but her smile betrays her nonetheless.

5. Sita is tending to her garden when she hears footsteps approaching, coaxing weeds to take life elsewhere; she looks up to find her husband peering down at her, clearly awkward and somehow not yet out of place. His clothes are stark; his head is bare, devoid of the crown. She wonders if Bharata was convinced to take it at last, or if Lakshmana obliged instead.

(She knows too, enough of the ways of ruling to know that a king does not simply wake one morning and renounce his throne. He must have been planning this, moving the pieces into the motion, since the day she and the boys had departed Ayodhya forever.)

“Forgive me,” he says, and Sita, who had half-feared she would never be able to do so, feels her rage ebb at last. 

Beneath her bare feet, the earth hums her contentment. 

A thought piece.

second hand pride

Bonus gif:

tickety-boo?

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!”)

I’ve seen a lot of wonderful analyses on how Aziraphale played up the part of Crowley, but I haven’t seen much on Crowley’s portrayal of Aziraphale. This is the angel he’s been in love with for millennia, the angel he’s watched and guarded and adored since before written history began, and finally in the very last episode we get to see what Aziraphale looks like through his eyes. 

Standing before the one thing in the universe that could actually destroy him, Crowley’s Aziraphale is resolute, unflinching, gracious to the very end. He talks about the greater good and how angels are meant to be the champions of that greater good even when it goes against how the Great Plan was written. He stands up and speaks his truth even in the face of total opposition. And when the Archangel Gabriel, the person Aziraphale has always tried to emulate, tried to impress, tells him in no uncertain terms that this is what heaven does to the people who fight for the right thing, Aziraphale straightens his shoulders and lifts his chin and says, “It’s been lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.” And then he steps into the flames. 

We’ve seen other sides of Aziraphale. We’ve seen him be selfish, gluttonous, desperate, closed minded, we’ve seen him be just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing, but when Crowley is asked to take the part of Aziraphale this is who he chooses. This is who he really believes Aziraphale is deep down: kind, chivalrous, compassionate, brave, the sort of angel that heaven ought to be peopled with. The sort of angel who smiles even though he’s broken. The sort of angel who doesn’t mind dying as long as he did the right thing. 

Take a moment to say thank you.

Thank you that I am alive.

Thank you that I am healthy.

Thank you that I am able to pursue my passion.

There may be darkness. At times, I may be tempted to give up.

But I don’t.

And not even the strongest of flames can burn this undying gratitude of mine.

For I will always be thankful.

~Nic A

im about to test the limits of discord nitro