Tony just wanted coffee. Steve just wanted to draw. Clint just wanted to sleep. Natasha just wanted to dance. Wanda just wanted to watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Peter just wanted to finish his homework. Bruce just wanted tea. How did they end up in an era where everyone had names worth of tongue twisters where the Father and Mother of the multiverse wanted to teach them something called "dharma"? Well, Tony always knew he must have angered some god in his past life. _____________________________ My saltiness for team cap shows through in here so be warned. There will be mentions of blood, panic attacks, anxiety and nightmares. There will also be minor cussing involved.

I was born for him - To be with him, to serve him, to love him. My eyes seek only his validation. My heart beats only for his name. My hands ache to touch only his presence. My feet move only in his direction. My body bends, curves, and surrenders - only under his gaze. They say, "Without devotion, love cannot survive. And without love, devotion cannot be attained." And my devotion for him is untouched, unwavering. My heart is filled with a love that belongs only to him - The one my eyes are forever searching for. As I tied the strings of my anklets-anklets that once chimed with devotion but would ring with destruction tonight-I wrapped myself in silk, coiled my hair, and adorned it with Kanakambaram flowers. But not with love this time. Tonight, they burn with fury. When the forces of destruction shook my city-our heaven, Srirangam-with the invasion of those others, I made a decision. A choice born not from fear but fire: to show them what real devotion is. The power of love. The might of the one who seeks nothing but gives everything. When the army of Delhi Sultanate neared the temple-our divine abode-I knew what to do. I knew no mortal hand driven by violence and greed would be allowed to touch him. To see him. They did not deserve the sight. Not even a glimpse. So tonight, my legs will move. My body will curve. My lips will sing. And my hands-my hands will kill. For those who believe they can rule, who think they can take what was never theirs-I will show them what a dance of destruction truly looks like. Every yuga, when man thinks he is god, my god rises to remind them who the real one is. But this time, he is not alone. He has me. I am Vellayi. The Devadasi of Srirangam. The one they call a living goddess. But to him... I am just his simple love. All my life, I have lived, breathed, and danced for only one. To me, he is everything. My Ranga. © Ival_Nidhi_Writes 2025 All rights reserved.

~~~~ Cover requests available for fellow Wattpad writers Enter the first chapter to know more P'm me for redos I'll post my contest graphics here too :) Cover by: Me!!! ~~~~

Her hope has been shattered and torn apart, beyond even the flickering embers. But she still lives, if only to keep the wan flames of hope alive in her fellow prisoners. ***** Narakasura has captured 16,100 women to be his queens when he finally takes over the three worlds. This is a short tale of one of them, of how her hope is reembodied in the form of a bright, pious light that destroys her captor and frees her and her fellow prisoners. [Warnings in the first chapter.]

She, a murderess. He, the Preserver. If they are bound, can a murderer ever be loved? **** She is a nameless shadow who walks in the form of a great beauty, they say. A beauty so deadly that it kills. Bodies crop up, from time to time, and people go missing, never to be found. All because they uttered a blasphemy, or disparaged the Preserver. He is a protector, an Incarnate. An enigmatic mystery, who only seeks the protection and preservation of the joy of all his people. For his people, he fought many long battles, banishing demons from his lands, always seeking the greater welfare of all. When she is caught and brought to Dvaraka, their worlds collide. He is her judge and she his prisoner. Nevertheless, he demands an unorthodox punishment from her that is hardly one. Against a conspiracy that rachets up, can they work together and learn to love? Or is murder too grievous a sin? [complete.] [word count - 60K words.]

What happens when people cannot understand the difference between Skin Show and Demonstration of Art? Set in the British times, this story will bring you the harsh reality of a community which has lost its lustre now. This story is dedicated to Devdasi (Servant of God), an extinct 'community of art' in India today. -------------------------------- Winner of "Desi Lihaaz Awards 2018" . First Runner Up of "The Aesthetic Awards 2019" under General Fiction category. --------------------------------

verses dripping with what we cannot speak 🔸entries for Versification 2023 🔸 and poems dedicated to Sutekh/Set, since he is, after all, Chaos incarnate

|𝟏𝟗𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃| Here lies the tragedy of 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀. A young woman with a heart of gold and eyes as red as blood. Cursed with the Midas Touch and destined to die beneath the Phrygian sun. She is a monster. An outcast. She is made to endure. But when a foreign goddess arrives swords clash and words are traded. The blue deity shakes the very core of Desdemona's foundation and calls into question her entire upbringing as well as her fate to die on her eighteenth birthday. For the first time in a long time, Desdemona has a choice. Will she play the role her past lives were forced to endure? Or will she shed her heart of purity to take back the life that was stolen from her? 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐋𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲, 𝐍𝐀, 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝟎𝟐/𝟐𝟎/𝟐𝟐 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝: 𝟎𝟒/𝟏𝟕/𝟐𝟐 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝟏𝟒+ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫: @𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

might be useful to anyone, not just the dumb ass kids out there who don't know what gay means. but also for them. Includes sexualities and other terminology that you might want to know! xx when I say little I don't really mean little, it's pretty long 😂 If you have any improvements/terms I've missed out then please let me know! x sourced from google search, my own barely functioning brain and 'itspronouncedmetrosexual.com'