#salaar

[kraskrov]

happy pride month here's some smut ❤️

[kraskrov]

inspired by the lovely fanfic Noorellu Nilavaale 💕

[i-misread-radiance-as-raindance]

Omg omg OMGGGG are you really taking requests for salaar?!

Can I please please please get one shot or blurb or Drabble or ANYTHING for Varada x deva's sister!Reader? Like how he finally confesses and all after deva kills those assaulter bastards in that village? Or something, anything you want!

Thank you soo much 😭😭 I'm desperate can you tell?

- @mainyahaankyunhoon

OMG HIII THIS IS SO COOL THANKS FOR THE ASK

okay so I did make it varadha x raisaar!reader but this got out of hand and it's probably gonna end up being a twoshot. maybe more? who knows? not me

also I'm so sure I've read fics by @mainyahaankyunhoon so it's like having beyonce pulling up to my garage band where I was practicing a cello blindfolded so uh

kind of tried to do the thing they did in the movie with a bunch of shots like back to back in no specific chronological order. this MIGHT be ass. (gng tell me if this is absolute buns pls I'm still getting used to the fanfiction thing and I'd appreciate criticism)

anyways without further ado

a twoshot(?)

"who we are from the start, won't you dance with me?”

part 1

a recollection of your visit to khansaar

6/10 your brother's bestie was hot but the wanton violence is a dealbreaker

“Are you well?”

You didn't respond, choosing to carry the bag of groceries close to your chest, looking straight down at the grimy asphalt of the seedy neighbourhood in Bharuch where Deva lived. Varadha looked down too, seeing your feet clad in sandals. You had anklets. They were made of imitated metal, he could tell. Silver would be nicer.

Connecting with Deva was effortless—as if they hadn't been separated for so many years. With you, Varadha's words were stilted. But cut him some slack—the last time he saw you, you were a bumbling five year old running about with your wooden animals. A bundle of cheer that had no business being in Khansaar.

Look at you now. You were much taller, only a few inches shorter than him. Seems like you took after Deva a lot. There was a strange solemness in your face, like you had resigned yourself to this menial life in Bharuch when you could be…

No matter.

He assumed that this conversation would go nowhere and turned to leave, when you spoke.

“I'm okay.”

“...good.” Varadha said, after a moment's silence. “That's…good.” Your sharpness with him reminded him of when Deva had grabbed that live wire and electrocuted himself just for Varadha, and you—in all your toddler-ish glory—had given Varadha the silent treatment for a whole month. It was impressive, especially for someone who was as chatty as you. "Listen, I know—"

"Why are you doing this?” You asked—moreso whispered, your voice trembling with something that felt less like fear and more like anger. So you did take after Deva. Your eyes still didn't meet his, fixating on his septum ring first, then on the thin, whitish scar running across his face.

Varadha bristled at the sudden attention, all fondness leaving him. “I have my reasons.”

-—-—-—

The car ride to Khansaar was quiet. Deva sat at the window seat; and Varadha swore he could see him throw petty little grins at you, who were in the middle seat, with Baachi to your other side. Why you tagged along was beyond Varadha, but he allowed it. From what he could remember, you did always follow Deva around, clinging to his elbow, or his ankle or any part you could reach until he either snapped at you or until you hit your head on something.

Varadha smiled to himself.

-—-—-—

It was surprising, but Baachi was actually talking to you.

It was probably because the two of you were the same age, and often were sent off together so Varadha and Deva could do more important, grown-up things at the age of ten—that is, throwing rocks at Ranga or skipping them into the water.

“Why?”

“Why not?” You said, definitely more cheery with him than with Varadha. You looked him in the eyes, for God's sake. “It's not like I'm hurting anyone.”

“But why would you teach maths?” He asked incredulously. “You're torturing the children!”

You laughed and it was a strange sound to hear. Varadha could have grinded his teeth into his gums with the way his jaw tensed. So it was just him who was getting the silent treatment again. Both from Baachi, and you. How...annoying.

“Oh, come off it—”

“No, seriously, that should be a crime—”

-—-—-—

The sun set and took Varadha's expectations for a peaceful hosting of his guests with it.

You and Deva were just in the other room when Baachi stormed out, a colourful array of words set for him, you and Varadha. You knew Varadha had given up one of his bracelet-things to protect Deva, you and your mother, but you didn't know it had such far-reaching consequences. You also didn't know that it meant giving up a territory.

Seeing how Varadha was getting humiliated on the daily, it did melt your heart a little for the man. Your heart solidified again when it was Deva and you getting picked apart.

You two looked at each other, and Deva shrugged.

-—-—-—

Varadha felt woozy, so he lobbed the cheap bottle of liquor he was holding straight to the floor. The glass shattering looked beautiful under the amber light. He was saying something, but he wasn't quite sure what. Deva and you sat on a bench nearby, looking equally worried, eyes wide and eyebrows scrunched like mirror reflections.

Baba was crying. Why was he crying? Varadha felt great, or, something. There was a heaviness in his throat and that wasn't from the burn of the alcohol. Ugh, this is useless.

Feeling his legs turn into jelly, he stumbled down to sit beside you. You tensed and tried to scoot away. "Careful." You murmured.

Baachi, with swift, agitated steps, came to stand in front of Varadha. “Brother, you're drunk. We should go.”

The elder brother grabbed Baachi with an arm and caught him in a tight hug, slurring out incoherent rambles of coddling like “You're my little brother” and laughing as Baachi struggled against the sudden onslaught of brotherly affection. The younger Mannar did manage to free himself, cheeks darkened with embarrassment as he looked at you, stifling a chuckle behind your hand.

Baachi stomped away into the night with a brisk pace.

Varadha's laughter tapered off, and he looked at the two of you with a gaze that was…soft. Genuine, you supposed. Deva seemed to straighten, anticipating that something was off.

“I’m...” Varadha began. “I’m…not worried that something might happen to me, you know…” He looked down, eyes catching the glint of your anklets. “I'm...worried about my brother. Take care of him for me,” he looked up at Deva, then at you, “will you?”

Deva, wordless as always, nodded. You found solace in counting the glimmering shards of glass on the floor.

Varadha felt his eyes drooping. Without a care in the world, he swiveled around from where he was sitting, the elder Mannar plopped his head into your lap as if Deva wouldn't bat him upside the head tomorrow morning for it. You tensed, hands freezing in the air before you set them down—one in his hair and one on his warm chest. With nowhere else to go, your eyes settled on the Mannar literally on your lap.

His eyes were half-lidded, the kohl around them smudged by sweat and—to your best assumptions—tears. His septum ring glinted and your hand on his chest twitched.

Varadha stared at you, feeling his head swim as your eyes met. You looked exactly how he remembered! But older. And prettier. Varadha thought you looked stupid when you were younger, always stealing Deva's attention from him.

“You're pretty.” He blurted out, grinning as if he hadn't just thrown in a hauntingly honest request of his.

You stiffened as if you had looked into Medusa’s eyes. Varadha wished he didn't remember this in the morning.

Deva resisted the urge to kick Varadha.

Will that count against the ceasefire?

-—-—-—

“—but instead of poultry, he’d—” Baba’s words crackled away with a sob as you and Deva watched him intently. Varadha took this moment to swoop in and distract the three of you.

“Baba, leave this. We have more important things to do.”

But you, being repulsively you, just had to go digging around.

You'd see the kite flying and ask Deva about it. Deva, looking at the infernal thing, would ask Varadha about it and every time the dora had to come up with a new excuse about it.

He didn't know how long he could go before you realised every kite had the same embellishments.

[i-misread-radiance-as-raindance]

a oneshot

"ghost under the light"

deva tries to take a walk. old memories resurface.

based heavily on the yuri's poem with the same name.

“Don't you have any other friends?”

Deva knew the kid didn't mean it that way; he was just angry at the older man for not having his head in the game. He knew the kid didn't know about what happened in that place. But the words were a little…striking.

It was just a quarter past one o'clock right now. The whole neighbourhood seemed to be silent, except the one drunken old man stumbling back home, having forgotten he doesn't have one to return to.

Deva tried closing his tired eyes, and felt the burn under his eyelids that comes when you forget to blink for too long. He felt lighter when things were dark around him; the near-constant thrumming under his skin receded in the din of the night, and the softer memories would return. His mother coaxing him to go to sleep with a lullaby, sneaking out to cause mischief somewhere, or coming home from said rendezvous and finding a puppy hiding under a box to pet.

Who would he sneak out with, again?

Deva opened his eyes and got out of the rickety bed, feeling the rusted metal creak under his bed. He had never gotten used to how large he became, always the shorter one between his old friend and him. Even the kids seemed to not mind his imposing stature as long as he agreed to take a part in fielding and let them bat. Heavy footsteps padding across the floor, Deva put his shoes on haphazardly, ankles sticking out of the back (he’d get blisters in the morning, but it’d be fine) and walked out of the house.

It was a warm night. The sky was clear. A playful breeze was skittering around, dragging along pieces of plastic and motes of dust with it. Mindlessly walking, Deva looked up and saw the stars jeweled across the velvety night sky. Or something like that. It sounded like a line from those books Varadha would read.

Varadha.

Shit.

To Deva, it was clear that he would never return to Varadha again. And he had made a point to expunge any memories of the man from his mind. That didn't seem to work. He never had as good of control over his mind as Varadha did. It was so late at night, and no one was awake anyway. Deva assumed he could amuse himself. Far away, somewhere, the drunken man had fallen from the stairs and found himself at the bottom with a bleeding head.

He had heard the older teenagers blast songs about forgetting their lovers on their new-fangled phone. Songs about how to get over a lover. Songs about how to move on from a past love. But how do you forget a friend? Is there anything that can replace an old friend? Even now, Deva would see a book from an author Varadha liked, and get the urge to buy it for him; even now he'd say something stupidly cheesy and get the urge to repeat it to Varadha, just to see him roll his eyes in annoyance.

But the maw of a wolf separated them. The same souls in two different worlds. Varadha was the Karta of Khansaar, and Deva was pacified into paralysis in Tinsukhia.

It wasn't an open wound, sure, but it was a bruise that hurt when he pressed too hard. It was the blackened veins protruding out of his left arm, cramping when it was too cold until he felt like he needed to chop it off clean.

Deva stopped under an amber streetlight, looking down to see the colour bathe him. There was a faint heat coming from it. There was a massive hum-buzz of thousands of insects, stuck in their perpetual panopticon behind the cheap glass of the streetlight, burning away for their gravity towards the bulb.

In the distance, a blue-green light flickered. A lone figure crossed its path—a silhouette obstructing the eerie glow. Deva’s heart suddenly started to skip a few beats here and there. The silhouette grew. Closer. Closer.

The figure stepped into the streetlight. The light flickered. A familiar tingle of electricity sped up Deva's left arm, turning the blood in his veins to static. The figure raised his hand, clad in thick iron bangles clinking, all hesitant. Familiar.

Time stopped.

The only indication of movement was the amber light flickering against his outstretched fingers, clad, too, in similar rings. The flickering light was in rhythm with the pounding of Deva's heart.

A voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once.

“Deva.”

Have you ever heard of a ghost feeling warmth before? Giving up on understanding, Deva laughed. Understanding was overrated. He touched his friend’s hand. The flickering stopped.

Ghosts are blue-green. Deva's heart is amber.

Deva woke up to the sound of his mother berating him for sleeping in, followed along with the clamor of children whom he'd promised to play cricket with. The sun was out. Blinking through the splotches in his eyes, he came to the realisation that streetlights weren’t blue-green.

He was in his bed, blisters on his ankles.

[saigalblues]

my gay ahh could NOT survive the khansaar ceasefire dawg

[hardkittyprince]

Ladies and gentlemen Jensen fucking ackles the crush of my life i giggle 🤭 everytime I see him on screen like so dam much that my jaw started to hurt and i see him so much I am currently watching spn complete watching 5 episode of boys season 5 and I am in love with the person twice my age so I am totally gone and he is not my crush because he is good looking ofcourse that is the reason too but he is q fucking talented sweet and amazing actor and he is a great storyteller and a great friend from what I have seen so he is whole package he is also a great husband and father sooooo

And this is the 2nd man that i also have a crush on and he has the same quality as the man on 1st so you can say I have a type

[kraskrov]

some organic handdrawn salaar memes (credit)

[rambheem-is-real]

Just had to draw something for the salaar x project hail mary thoughts I was having earlier

edit i did fuck up one of the telugu words its supposed to be cell