#OKAY I'M DONE

[quadrantadvisor]

Thinking about DP x DC Jason Todd being a revenant again. Here's my scenario. Jason gets called that by some ghost. He's like "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He's heard the term before but he doesn't know any actual lore. He googles it. He scrolls past the Leonardo DiCaprio bear movie. He opens the wiki. Sees the words "animated corpse" and gets a chill diwn his spine. He starts reading the first section.

He closes Wikipedia.

That night he has a nightmare that his family buried him, again, this time with precautions. He wakes up in his own grave, full of stones, too heavy to move, to scream.

[oxygen537art]

[simplepotatofarmer]

for c!emerald duo, the world

[devisopod]

nah, see, 'cause y'all don't get it

one look and a smile—I'd be dunzo

[bethnaberrie]

leroy jethro gibbs was really out there in 2005 running a team of highly trained federal agents queer kids with daddy issues

[loullaby]

last one, and i promise i'll stop being the oliver stark hater blog.

i don't remember seeing this at the time, but the fact that he couldn't even reprimand the way buddies treated the actress who played his love interest speaks volumes. how can you not speak to whether that was unfair treatment or not? they were just doing their job and got death threats because they were not the person buddies wanted you to kiss. how can that be fair?

that's the type of thing that makes them feel it's okay to keep doing it. lou is just the last one in a long list of people who had to take the hate in silence. and if buck ever gets a new LI that is not eddie, the cycle will continue because oliver and the whole show are too cowardly to go against buddies.

[shitty-mh-aus]

marble hornets but its the omega verse.

.

[kindleaf]

getting queerbaited by just roll with it is like losing at chess to a dog

[everlastingrandom]

presidential candidates stop coming to my state challenge!!!!! I'm trying to get home and the traffic is already fucked as it is!!!!!!

[didyoulookforme]

pov: you think about one of matty's kinks

just pure filth here. sorry lol.

warning: 18+, smut. grammatical errors, typos.

other bf matty blurbs & rambles here.

cumplay. to say that matty was obsessed with it was a complete and utter understatement. you always wondered how many people knew about this side of him, selfishly hoping this was a dirty secret shared just between the two of you. hell, he'd been your best friend for over 15 years and you didn't even suspect this was a deep interest of his until a few months of you sleeping together. your shy, nervous matty getting off at the thought of his cum? no way. but oh, how glad you were that this was a reality. you'd never grow tired of the way his lust filled eyes would spend minutes staring at it slowly dripping out of you, always asking if he was allowed to lick you clean. of course. you'd be a fool to deny him. you love to run your hands through his dark curls as he gently laps the warm cum off your spent cunt, using his fingers to spread you open so he can gather every last drop. at times he will finger it out of you and use the slick to rub gentle circles against your clit, leading to the best form of ecstasy imaginable. but your favourite is always when he will gather some of it on his tongue and continue to sloppily kiss you, ruining him into a moaning, desperate mess.

[krishna-sangini]

That Midnight (Pt.2)

The temple courtyard buzzed with excited squeals and soft giggles as the girls rose to their feet, anticipation shimmering in their eyes. They stood before the idol, some clutching puja ghantis, their hearts brimming with devotion. Their beloved Keshav gazed back at them, his flute poised as if he might play a divine tune at any moment, drawing them closer to his enchanting presence.

Manyataa carefully lifted the puja thali, her movements slow and reverent. “Ready, y’all?” she asked, her voice a gentle whisper as she glanced back. Her friends, eyes gleaming, nodded eagerly, their hearts beating in unison.

Turning back to face the idol, Manyataa began circling the thali with steady hands. As the sacred flames flickered, the girls' voices rose in unison, filling the temple with a melody that transcended time.

"कृष्ण, मनमोहना, मोरे कान्हा, मोरे कृष्ण..."

"कृष्ण, मनमोहना, मोरे प्रियवर, मोरे कृष्ण..."

The temple echoed with their devotion, the sound of the ghantis and the rhythmic claps of the girls weaving through the air, adding a scent of spiritual love to the moment. Love that knew no limit, love that transcended every boundary. Each note they sang was a prayer, each word a wish from the depths of their souls.

Manyataa set the thali aside, her heart swelling with emotion. She took a handful of flowers, and her friends followed, their hands trembling with the intensity of their devotion. Together, they showered the idol with fragrant petals, their faces glowing with pure, unfiltered joy. Tears welled up in their eyes, blurring their vision, but in that haze, only the idol remained vivid, alive. For a fleeting second, they wondered—had he moved?

“जैसी मन में छवि, तुम वैसे मोरे कृष्ण...”

Their voices cracked with emotion, yet they sang on, driven by a love that knew no bounds. Then, as if answering their call, a melodious flute joined their song, intertwining with their voices and the tinkle of the ghantis, elevating the moment to something beyond the earthly realm.

The girls froze in place, their voices silenced, eyes wide with disbelief. Tears streamed down their cheeks, but they made no move to wipe them away. This had to be a dream—a figment of their deepest desires—yet it felt so achingly real. Before each of them, in the soft glow of the temple mashaals, stood their beloved, their Kanha.

He was everything they had ever imagined Him to be. For some, He appeared as the naughty teen, a playful smile dancing on His lips, eyes twinkling with that familiar, endearing mischief. For others, He was the youthful lover, mature and serene yet still carrying a glint of divine playfulness that made their hearts flutter. And for some, He stood as the majestic King of Dwarka, resplendent in all His glory, His aura commanding reverence and awe.

Each girl saw Him just as she had always held Him in her heart, a perfect reflection of her soul’s deepest yearning. It was as if the divine had stepped out of their prayers, their dreams, their songs, and taken form before them—just as they had sung moments ago: “The way we picture you in our heart, you’re the exact same way.”

The girls stood in disbelief, some staggering back a step while some taking a step forward. The ethereal tune of the flute never left them. He stood before them, not as a distant deity but as the Kanha who knew them intimately, who had been with them all along. The veil between the divine and the mortal had lifted, and from that very moment, they were each alone, with nobody around them except their eternal love, their Krishna.

“Ke-Keshav… is it truly… you?” Baanhi’s voice quivered, barely a whisper, as her breath caught in her throat. Her hand instinctively flew to her lips as if to stifle the overwhelming emotions rising within her. The other reached out, trembling, toward the figure before her—her Keshav. But the temple had melted away, and in its place, they now stood by the riverbank. The cool breeze danced with the fragrance of blossoms, their petals strewn like lost dreams across the soft meadow. Moonlight draped everything in a gentle, silvery glow as if even the heavens had paused, holding their breath to witness this fragile reunion.

Tears brimmed in her wide, astonished eyes, sparkling with disbelief, joy, and a love so deep it ached in her chest. They slipped silently down her flushed cheeks, each tear reflecting the longing that had devoured her heart through endless nights and restless dreams. And then… that smile. That breathtaking, familiar curve of His lips, the very one she had searched for in every corner of her soul, in every whispered prayer. It shattered the boundaries of time and space.

Without a word, He stepped closer. His warmth enveloped her as His hand found hers, soft and strong, grounding her to this delicate reality that still felt like a dream. His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand, sending shivers through her as their fingers entwined.

“And why, Baanhi,” He murmured, His voice a deep, velvet whisper, the sound resonating through her very soul, “would you ever doubt that it is me?”

Meanwhile, across the tranquil beach, where the ocean's waves whispered softly against the shore and the moonlight bathed the sands in a shimmering silver glow, Dhruvi collapsed to her knees. Her body trembled as a sob broke free, raw and filled with longing. “My Lord…” The words escaped her lips like a broken plea, fragile and aching, as she stared up at Him—the Dwarkadhish—her Dwarkadhish. His form, majestic and timeless, stood bathed in moonlight, a vision both familiar and distant.

With a tenderness that pierced through her despair, His hand extended toward hers, the touch light yet unwavering, steady as the tides that kissed the shore. Her heart stilled when their hands met, His fingers warm against her cold, trembling ones. His eyes—deep and endless—locked with hers, filled with a love so tender it seemed to encompass all of time and space. It was the kind of love that transcended words.

“Yes, it’s me,” He said softly, His voice wrapping around her heart like a balm, mending the fractures of her soul. But then, the corners of His lips curved into that teasing smile, the one that had always undone her. “Only, I’m not your Lord. I’m your sakha.”

His words washed over her, breaking through the dam of disbelief that had held her in place. Dhruvi blinked, her breath catching as she felt the weight of her doubts dissolve into nothingness. Slowly, almost as if in a dream, He bent down and took her hand, pulling her gently to her feet. His touch lingered, firm yet delicate, grounding her to this moment—this reunion—while making her feel like she was floating, her feet barely brushing the cool, moonlit sand.

Their fingers intertwined, His thumb tracing soft circles over her knuckles, a silent reassurance that He was here, real and near. As they walked, side by side along the shore, she felt the warmth of His presence seep into her, cradling her heart in a serenity she hadn’t known in what felt like lifetimes. Her head dipped slightly toward Him, and without thinking, she leaned against His shoulder, the closeness bringing a peace she never knew she needed.

At the same time, in a garden that seemed to breathe with the sweet scent of flowers and sandalwood wafting through the air, Saanjh walked beside Him. Her hand rested securely in His, their fingers intertwined. The vibrant blossoms swayed in the evening breeze as if bowing to the very Lord of the universe. Yet, her heart raced, a storm of disbelief and wonder churning inside her. Her fingers tightened slightly around His, still unsure, reeling from the impossibility of it all.

She stole a glance at Him, the breathtaking face she had only dared to see in dreams—dreams that had blinded her in the quiet of the night, where the line between reverence and yearning blurred. How could He be here, beside her, as if this moment was plucked straight from those sacred imaginings?

Her voice was a soft whisper, trembling with the weight of a thousand unsaid questions. “Was it really you… who tugged my hair back then in the temple?” The words slipped from her lips like a half-forgotten secret, the incredulity in her heart too great to contain.

He turned, glancing over His shoulder with that familiar, playful smile—the one that had always undone her, the one that held galaxies of mischief and affection all at once. His eyes sparkled with knowing mirth. “And what’s so hard to believe about that?” He teased, His voice light and melodic, a soft chuckle woven into each word.

Saanjh’s heart stuttered, her breath catching as she looked up at Him, her gaze searching His face for answers that her mind still couldn’t comprehend. The darling of Vrindavan. The one who had stolen the hearts of millions, now standing by her side as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

After strolling a bit more, the Manmohan settled beside her after Madanmohini got comfortable on the swing, her fingers tracing the jute rope. Without a word, He gently pushed the swing into a soft, soothing rhythm. The familiar creak of the wood intertwined with the rustling leaves and the distant hum of night creatures, creating a melody only nature could compose. Her gaze drifted toward Him, lingering longer than it should have. There was something almost paradoxical about His simplicity—how could someone who held the entire cosmos in His hands appear so unassuming? Yet, the magic He wove was undeniable, pulling at her in ways words failed to describe. He was her enchanter, her safe harbour, the one whose mere presence could still be the tempest in her mind.

His chuckle broke the silence, soft yet brimming with mischief. "Sakhi," He teased, eyes glimmering with a knowing spark, "you're going to make me blush with all those thoughts."

His voice snapped her out of the trance she hadn’t realised she’d slipped into. Her heart skipped a beat as warmth rushed to her cheeks. Hastily, she tore her gaze away and fixed it on the ground. She swallowed hard, her hands suddenly too aware of themselves as one of them nervously gripped the swing’s rope, and the other lay on her lap.

A beat of hesitation passed, the words catching in her throat before she found the courage to speak. "Kanha," she whispered, her voice barely louder than the breeze playing through the trees. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," He replied, without missing a beat. His voice, soft and velvety, seemed to wrap around her like a warm blanket, coaxing her closer. And before she knew it, His arm slid effortlessly around her shoulders, drawing her nearer. The swing creaked in gentle protest as the space between them disappeared, and her heart thudded against her chest, loud enough she was certain He could hear it.

Samridhi took a slow, deliberate breath as she finally voiced the question that had haunted her for what seemed like lifetimes. “Why… why did you choose me? What have I done to deserve the honour of being in your presence? I’m just a mere mortal…”

Her voice faltered as she finished. Krishna, ever serene, responded with that familiar smile that seemed to hold the universe within it, His eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement.

“You’ve always been in my presence, sakhi,” He replied, His tone light and teasing, as though the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you remember all those conversations we’ve had in your room?” He chuckled softly, His gaze soft yet playful. “We talked just yesterday.”

Samridhi’s eyes widened as a wave of heat rose, and memories of her private, unfiltered ramblings to His little idol flashed before her. The soft breeze toyed with two strands of hair, brushing them across her face, but in her flustered state, she made no move to brush them away.

“So… you hear everything I say to you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of wonder and mortification colouring her tone.

Krishna’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, His eyes gleaming with playful mischief. “Everything.” He said, the single word laced with warmth, as if He cherished every awkward confession, every tearful prayer, every laugh she’d shared with His idol. His hand moved gently, almost lazily, as He reached out and tucked the loose strands behind her ear, His touch light as a feather yet sending a shiver coursing through her spine.

“But…” she started, her voice wavering. She forced herself to continue, even as her gaze dropped to the ground, unable to hold His anymore. “What have I ever done to deserve this? To see you like this, so divine… yet standing before me as though we’re equals?” Her voice cracked, soft and broken. “I’m just… just a sinner. Materialistic and flawed.”

The Murari paused mid-swing, his gentle laughter fading as He gracefully dismounted. Standing before Garima, who now seemed more uncertain and apprehensive, He took her trembling hands in His, urging her with a soft nudge to lift her gaze and meet His eyes.

“Love,” He said, His voice as soothing as a summer breeze. Garima’s brows furrowed in confusion. The Girivar chuckled softly. Helping her off the swing, He led her to the nearby lake, its surface shimmering with the moon’s delicate reflection. They settled on the grass, Garima instinctively keeping a respectful distance.

But before she could retreat too far, He sighed and pulled her gently closer, His touch warm and reassuring.

“You love me, sakhi,” He began. “You love me as if I am your everything. Despite being part of this material world, you never fail to include me—whether in your pain or your joy. And yes, you may stumble," He smiled, "but it’s in those very moments that I walk beside you.”

The Natwar wrapped His arm around her shoulders, drawing her into the comfort of His presence. Together, they stared at the moonlit water, the ripples gently distorting the silver reflection, mirroring the complexities of Garima’s emotions.

“But…” Garima’s voice wavered, barely more than a whisper, as she cowered beneath His touch. “You’re the Lord of the Universe, not my friend… I shouldn’t be treating you as I do, with such familiarity…”

Krishna's smile grew tender, brimming with warmth that seemed to wrap Agrata in an invisible embrace. His head tilted slightly, and with a soft glance, He caught her gaze. His eyes, bright as the stars mirrored in the calm waters, sparkled with an understanding beyond mortal grasp. “Why shouldn’t you, hmm? Have I ever asked for anything more than your heart?”

The girl opened her mouth, her voice barely a whisper, “But…”

“Ssh,” Krishna’s gentle voice cut through her hesitation. “No ‘but’s, sakhi. Hear me.”

His words, soft but unyielding, silenced her doubts.

“Love today is tossed around like it's something ordinary. People have forgotten its sanctity. They barter it and use it as a label for fleeting passions or selfish desires. But love… love is sacred, rare, untouched by the ego or the world’s expectations.” His eyes softened even more, overflowing with affection as He gently took her trembling hand in His. “You, sakhi, have loved me like my gopis did, with a heart pure and full…”

Agrata’s chest tightened, her emotions swirling between disbelief and the depth of His love. She shook her head, blinking back the tears that welled up in her eyes. “You’re… you’re exaggerating…” Her voice broke as she glanced up, meeting His gaze, deep and eternal like the vast universe holding her fragile heart.

The Murlidhar's smile deepened, and with a playful shake of His head, He reclined back, propping His head on one hand, laying comfortably on the soft earth. With the other, He gently patted the space beside Him, beckoning her closer. Agrata hesitated, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks, but under His knowing gaze, she slowly settled down beside Him.

For a moment, the world was wrapped in a quiet stillness. Above them, the night sky stretched out, vast and starry. Then, with exaggerated seriousness, Krishna sighed, His eyes sparkling with mischief. “You girls… all of you,” He began, shaking His head as if bearing the weight of their endless insecurities. “Always so unsure, always doubting yourselves.”

Manyataa gave a sheepish shrug, her gaze wandering up to the stars, a small, guilty smile tugging at her lips.

The silence hung between them, lingering like a heartbeat. Then, His rich, velvety voice filled the air again. “Tell me,” He said, His body shifting. With a graceful movement, He turned onto His side, propping His head up with one hand, His gaze now locked onto hers. Full of warmth and affection, his eyes sought hers like a beacon. “Why do you think you don’t deserve me?”

The sudden closeness caught her off guard. Her heart skipped a beat, her breath faltering as she stared back at Him, startled by the intensity of His gaze. She hadn’t expected Him to face her like this—so direct, so tender. Her heart raced as if trying to keep pace with the moment.

“Dear God…” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely a whisper.

Krishna’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Yes?” He teased, eyes gleaming with boyish charm.

Her face flushed a deep red, heat rising to her cheeks as she stammered, flustered by both His teasing and His nearness. “I-I mean…” she struggled, her words caught in her throat. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside her chest. “So, uh… what did you ask again?”

Krishna’s laughter, soft and deep, rumbled through the still night. He leaned in slightly, the amusement in His eyes never fading.

“I asked,” He repeated slowly, savouring each word as if giving her time to settle, “Why do you think you don’t deserve me?”

Kesar pushed herself up to sit straight; her hands fumbled with the delicate hem of her lehenga. She exhaled shakily, trying to gather her words. “Well… there are so many reasons…” Her voice was soft but strained. “You do so much for me. You’re there with me in every step of my life; you lull me to sleep when I’m spiralling into darkness; you calm me down when I’m on the verge of breaking. You remind me that you’re there when I'm lost and hopeless, even when I can’t feel you.”

She paused, eyes downcast, her fingers tightening their grip on her lehenga. “But I… I haven’t done anything for you… nothing worthy. I haven’t ever given you proper offerings like other sincere devotees. I try to tell myself that my love is enough, that it can compensate… but even then, I don’t know if I love you the right way. What if it’s not enough? What if my love doesn’t even reach you—”

Before she could finish, His warm hand pressed gently over her mouth. Her heart skipped as she looked up at him, startled by the sudden gesture.

Her Kanha’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears, and his lips pressed into a thin smile. He leaned in as he spoke in a playful reprimand. “Don’t you dare doubt my sakhi like that ever again, okay?”

Kesar’s face fell, her gaze dropping as she gave a faint, unconvincing nod. Kanha cupped her chin gently, tilting her face upward until her eyes met His.

“Okay?” he repeated, his voice filled with quiet insistence.

Kesar’s breath hitched, her throat tightening as she looked into his gaze—endless pools of love and reassurance, with no room for doubt. “Okay…” she whispered, her voice small, but the hint of belief slowly creeping in, as if his presence could make her start believing again.

The Natwar got up, pulling the Soni after Him. He then started leading her by her hand, and the girl followed behind Him wordlessly.

“Is our love supposed to be transactional?” came His question as He glanced down at her.

“No, but I should at least-”

“No ‘but’s,” He interrupted, a playful firmness in His tone. He pulled her hand gently, coaxing her to walk beside Him, their steps falling in rhythm. “I don’t love my devotees because of their offerings. It’s not the jewellery or the fine clothes they bring that make me care. I love them because they carry love in their hearts and have made space for me there. My affection doesn’t hinge on gold or gems—it thrives in the simplicity of a heart that loves freely.”

“I care about every soul, but I can’t help but be a little biased toward those who simply love me. That’s where the magic is. Old, familiar love, effortless and easy.” He paused, casting a sideways glance at her. “I’ve seen the way your eyes light up just thinking of me. I’ve felt the flutter in your heart when you speak to me. I’ve known, felt, and cherished your love forever, sakhi. I couldn’t ask for more. Your love is all I need to love you and do everything I do for you.”

As Krishna finished speaking, He turned to glance at the girl walking beside Him, only to find her cheeks flushed red and her eyes shimmering with tears. As a few droplets escaped, streaking down her cheeks, she tried to hide them, hurriedly bringing her dupatta to her face, dabbing at the tears.

Krishna’s lips curved into a knowing smile, warm and full of affection. A deep, melodic chuckle escaped Him. Soni’s breath hitched as she fought to regain control, but Krishna’s laughter only deepened, not out of amusement but out of pure, unfiltered joy. His hand, still holding hers, gave a gentle squeeze—a silent reassurance, a reminder that her tears, her love, her emotions were all safe with Him.

“Well, well, well,” said the Manohar in His usual playful demeanour, “it’s time.”

Time for what, Kanha?” questioned a confused Soni.

His eyes shone with that familiar playfulness as he muttered, “Maharaas.”

---------------------------

And they were all back in the temple premises, in the majestic courtyard, which was now fragrant with elegant blossoms that shone under the moonlight. Their lehengas sparkled brighter than before; their anklets jingled more melodiously than ever. Their hearts raced in a rhythm they had never known, each beat louder, more desperate as if their souls were on the verge of breaking free from the confines of their bodies. A sense of bliss, raw and overwhelming, enveloped them, making them feel both weightless and anchored at the same time.

And there He stood, amid it all—His eyes tender, filled with a love so deep it seemed to engulf the entire universe. He gazed at each of them, not as individuals, but as His entire world. Every doubt, every question they had harboured vanished at that moment. It was true. He was there, as real as the moonlight that caressed their faces, and the immense love they felt for Him paled to the boundless love He reflected at them. It was infinite, eternal—so much more than they had ever dreamed possible.

The girls were lost—completely oblivious to the world around them. They did not notice the moonlight casting its silver veil over the temple courtyard, nor the gentle breeze whispering through the trees, nor even the sweet perfume of midnight blooms that filled the air. Nothing mattered except Him. He ruled their senses with an overwhelming presence, pulling them into a realm where only He existed. His yellow attire glowed like the morning sun, His sandalwood scent wrapped around them like a promise, and His touch, soft yet commanding, spoke of an eternal bond beyond comprehension.

He was everything. To Baanhi, He was her Keshav. To Dhruvi, He was Dwarkadhish. To Manyataa, He was Krishn, the anchor of her heart. Samridhi’s Only One, Soni’s beloved Kanhu, Madanmohini’s Enchanter—each girl saw in Him the embodiment of their deepest devotion. Garima’s Supreme Lord, Saanjh’s Kanhaiya, Agrata’s Beloved, Kesar’s Manmohan—He stood before each of them, uniquely theirs, yet timelessly the same.

The girls didn't realise when a hauntingly beautiful flute melody floated into the air, like a song from another world. It wove through the wind, mingling with the rustling leaves, the distant murmur of the river, and the soft chime of temple bells. Nature itself seemed to bow to Him, joining in a symphony that pulled the girls out of the confines of the physical world. And without even realizing it, they began to move—lifting their hands, twirling in slow, graceful arcs around Him, their Universe. Their souls danced in perfect harmony with the melody, as if they were not merely mortals, but celestial beings orbiting their Krishna.

And then, as if the very Earth called them back, He reached out, His strong hands gently pulling them toward Him. Each girl was grounded only by His touch—yet even then, it felt as though He held not just their hands, but their very souls.

Though they stood in a circle, Saanjh could not see Baanhi’s Keshav. Garima couldn’t see Manyataa’s Krishn, nor could Madanmohini see Dhruvi’s Dwarkadhish. Each could only see their own Krishna, who now gazed into their eyes with a look so captivating, so full of divine love, that it took their breath away. With a smile that promised eternity, He twirled them again, one by one, each spinning deeper into His embrace, deeper into the overwhelming bliss of being His.

The ten girls danced in perfect harmony, hand-in-hand with their Universe, their feet moving as one in an effortless rhythm. They were no longer aware of themselves or the world around them, lost entirely to the bliss of His presence. Yet, despite being beyond their senses, their movements were flawlessly in sync. Each twirl, each graceful pose, blended seamlessly into the next, as if guided by a force greater than any of them—a divine choreography written in their souls.

They danced not just with their bodies, but with their hearts, their spirits. Every step was an expression of their boundless love for Him—the One who held them, who spun them into an eternal dance where time ceased to exist. His presence bound them together, the invisible thread that linked their hearts in perfect unison. They were no longer individuals, but a single entity, moving as one, their devotion and surrender reflected in every movement.

Each girl felt Him with them, His hand gently leading hers, His eyes locking with hers, and in that moment, she knew she was His. Their feet glided over the ground as though it were air, their bodies weightless, carried by the power of their love. And though they danced together, each girl knew her bond with Him was sacred, unique. They spun through the night, their lehengas flowing like liquid light, merging with the moonlight and the music of the flute that still filled the air.

It wasn’t just a dance—it was a communion, a moment where the veil between the mortal and the divine had lifted, and they, hand-in-hand with their Krishna, had become a part of something eternal, something pure and infinite. The Universe moved with them, within them, and for this brief, beautiful moment, they were no longer bound by anything but their love for Him.

How long they danced, they couldn’t say. Time had ceased to exist in that sacred moment. It felt like an eternity, yet passed in the blink of an eye. At the end of their divine dance, the Murlidhar stopped in front of each girl, His hand warm around theirs, pulling them close. His eyes, deep and all-knowing, locked with theirs, and He smiled—each smile uniquely meant for the girl before Him. The world fell away as the girls stared back, their hearts overflowing with bliss. Tears of pure joy slipped down their flushed cheeks, but they didn’t care. Nothing mattered now, except their Govind.

Then, in a moment so intimate, so unexpected, He drew each of His partners into a divine embrace. The girls were stunned—could this be real? The Lord of the Universe, their Krishna, holding them as if they were His own, as if they had always belonged to Him. Disbelief filled their hearts for a breathless second, but then, as His warmth wrapped around them, realization dawned. The truth they had always known deep inside surfaced—this was no dream. He was theirs, and they were His. Completely, eternally. In His arms, they weren’t Samridhi, Agrata, or Kesar—they were simply His sakhis. His beloved companions who existed for no one but Him.

“I love you, sakhi,” He whispered softly into each girl’s ear, His voice like a soothing melody only they could hear. “Just as you have claimed me with your love, I have claimed you today. You are mine, and mine only.” His words were more than promises—they were the very foundation of their souls, binding them to Him forever. “I will be with you always, in every second of your life,” He continued, His arms tightening as if He never wanted to let go.

The girls, overwhelmed, melted deeper into His embrace, surrendering completely to the moment, eyes pressed shut. His presence filled them, every doubt, every longing vanished. His voice became a whisper, barely audible now, as He leaned in closer, His breath warm against their skin. “This isn’t goodbye,” He murmured. “We will meet again, just like this. Until then, speak to me through the little idol in your room. I am always with you.”

The girls could barely breathe, their hearts beating in rhythm with His words. They were no longer bound by time, space, or the limitations of the world. In that hug, they had found their eternity. They had found their everything in Him—their Krishna, their forever.

As they opened their eyes, the warmth of His embrace faded, replaced by a new, yet familiar sensation. They were no longer in their Kanha’s arms—but in each other’s. Slowly, reality settled in, though the glow of His love lingered in their hearts. Kesar gently released her hold on Dhruvi, and Madanmohini let go of Soni, their fingers still trembling from the divine touch. A soft, joyful sob escaped Manyataa as she reached for Baanhi, their hands tenderly wiping away each other’s tears, a silent acknowledgment of the love that had just enveloped them.

Samridhi and Agrata, eyes brimming with unshed tears, exchanged a knowing look. There was no need for words—their smiles spoke volumes. Saanjh and Garima, still holding hands, turned to the others, their faces radiant with the same unspoken truth.

As they stood there, the ten of them, surrounded by the remnants of that divine moment, they didn’t need to say anything. Their souls were already communicating, speaking a language they had never learned but had always known—the language of His Love. It was a bond deeper than words, stronger than any earthly connection. Each girl could see it reflected in the other’s eyes—the same love, the same devotion, the same feeling of having been chosen by Him.

They never thought it was possible to fall deeper in love with a being they already cherished so profoundly. Yet here they were, standing in that sacred space, lost in His love, tangled in it, freed by it, and ascended through it. Every breath they took felt lighter, every heartbeat a reminder that they belonged to Him now and He to them. His presence had intertwined their hearts, leaving them forever bound to one another through the love of their Krishna.

They had been touched by the infinite, and in that touch, they had found something eternal. Together, they had transcended, their spirits united in the only truth that mattered—His love, which was endless, unshakeable, and all-encompassing. And as they looked around at one another, tears mingling with smiles, they knew they would carry this love for the rest of their lives, forever tethered to the One who made their souls dance.

************************************

IT'S DONE! IT'S FINALLY DONE! Sorry for taking so long T_T

@saanjh-ki-dulhan @krsnaradhika @chaliyaaa @saanjhghafa @krishnaaradhika @ramayantika @tumharisakhi @sumiyxx @vishnavishivaa @rantingabtmyman @willbedecided @braj-raj

[laylakeating]

#ej caswell: relationship guru (?)

[ningtual]

sunwoo ig update (240831)

[alkaysani]

buck and tommy talked about fake mouth static, and then tommy's mouth made buck's brain go static

[chiotri-loves-davekat]

Davekat week day one plush yayayayayay

Davekat is plushy and Davekat is peepys

Here's my fic too yay

Sorry if it sucks ass

@davekatweek I am mentally ill for this

[witchinatree]

making a list of my favorite quote/ones that stuck with me from each season 1 episode because i feel like it

(i'm starting this after episode 4 but it will be a WHILE before i post it)

episode 1: "bones are a lie peddled by Big Milk" - alice

i love this one because it's a great introduction to alice i think. also it radiates spiral so i hope we get avatar alice not dead alice (isnt there a podcast called alice isnt dead?)

episode 2: "If I wanted to clear the canvas, I would have used turpentine." - statement

this one was just fucking powerful and caught me so off guard like 😶

episode 3: "What would I do without her?" - statement

the norris statement <3 it feels like martin asking what he would do without jon which makes mag200 a lot sadder and i love them

episode 4: "Perhaps you shall prove a stronger will than I, and will yet find it within yourself to destroy this hungry thing of wood and cat-gut." - statement

augustus sighting #1 and we immediately get jonah magnus expressing that it may be possible for gwen bouchard unknown family member to overcome the eye's hunger spooky violin

episode 5: "Voyeur needs to be seen to be believed." - statement

i feel like this one is pretty reflective of how the seasons gonna go? like if you explain the events of tma (mag200 specifically) no one's gonna believe you, it must be seen to be believed!! and also seen!! like the eye!!!

episode 6: "Not sca- This isn’t some poxy blood test, some little pinprick, this is hundreds, thousands of razor sharp points pushing into your flesh." - needles

i love needles so much and i thought this was really funny because it was like "you dont find me scary!! what the fuck!!!" just kind of toddler michael energy

episode 7: "It’s not like we’re wrestling with tape recorders and manila folders." - celia

STOP IT. celia you can't say that you just cannot!!!!!! you Know™ too much maam i cant with you

episode 8: "Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Gerry!"

RAGHHHHH OH MY GOD GERRY!!!! i love him so much and idk how to handle him being alive in the tmagp universe!! gertrude too but idk we got so much of her in tma and not nearly enough of gerry

episode 9: "And honestly, it’s kind of compelling by this point." - sam

they got him 😔😔 the horrors got sam 😔😔 also i found this to be an interesting contrast to jon's heavy resistance in season 1 like he was being compelled but he wasn't going to let anyone know that vs sam "its kinda compelling to trauma dump on this paperwork :]" how is he somehow even more victim material

episode 10: "Gosh you’re sexy, here’s a twenty for your trouble.” - alice

does this count as a quote if shes also quoting what she thinks sam should say? idk anyway i love her i would say that to her if given the chance and it was very silly. i will not be addressing bonzo i am scared.

episode 11: "...Thank you, Alice" - gwen

dyhard dyhard dyhard dyhard dyhard. okay also, the way she CRUMBLED at the idea of anyone doing anything nice for her please someone give her a hug and let it be ME. this series is tossing me back and forth between sam & alice (what is their ship name) and dyhard but this put me back to dyhard

episode 12: "You know it's rude to have absolutely no game?" - alice

she's so fucking funny i need her to be okay so badly!!!! i don't think even tim made me laugh as much as she makes me chuckle and this one really got me. it's hard to write such a comedic character in a podcast since you only have the voice but they really nailed it i adore her

episode 13: "Is it my fault?" - gwen

each of these episodes just reveal a little bit more about how loving and soft gwen is and idk i love her so unbelievably much so seeing that she felt guilt about the bonzo stuff just made her so much more real :(

episode 14: "Christ, they’re in the walls…" - statement

theyre in the walls!!! theyre in the goddamn walls!!!!! anyway that got me because i realized the hole before the statement said it. made more sad than scared tbh

episode 15: "Babies are cool!" - alice this entire interaction between her and sam & celia was so awkward, she is so obvious and i love her anyway

episode 16: "It’s not like I was holding doors open for Mr Bonzo or anything." - gwen my wife is so so so stupid but i adore her AND this gives room for character development. i wish she did not do that though. i love when characters are flawed and have depth but i struggled to get past THIS flaw of hers

episode 17: "Thanks, I guess. Not exactly the same, though, is it?" - celia shes talking TO JON IN THE COMPUTER. SHE KNOWS. i lost my damn mind i love her i love her. get the gay people out of the puter please queen

episode 18: "Why would I need to talk to you? Your work is satisfactory. Unless you have a work-related issue I could assist you with?" - lena solidified my opinion that lena is the best boss to ever have, i adore her and i would want to work for her if she wasn't the boss of Creepy Establishment #1

episode 19: "You’re going to throw it in the fishtank, aren’t you?" - alice colin's behavior is like really worrying BUT i'm glad he's back. i was not convinced he was still alive

episode 20: "I suppose it’s too late for remorse, isn’t it? And why should I be sorry? This is what I deserve!" - ink5oul/statement they reminded me of jon a lot, like especially his season 3/4 transformation when he doesn't quite know everything but he knows he isn't who he was in season 1 anymore, i hope we see more of their life and they can be helped :(

episode 21: [Tape Recorder Bites Ink5oul] - audio description i know it's not technically a quote but this is just so fucking funny. why does it have teeth. what does this mean for the lore. holy shit.

episode 22: "Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood" - celia. knawing at the walls of my enclosure i am so not okay. i'm not okay. wtf. wtf. wtf. they're real. wtf.

episode 23: "I had a favorite mug. It said “love you, bitch” and had a picture of a drunk dog on it." - alice. okay i just love this entire interaction because gwen got to open up a little bit and my dyhard heart is so full

episode 24: "I am told that children like me, and I’ve always held the opinion that the world would be a better place if everyone just thought more." - basira. once again this whole interaction was so fun but like idk i loved hearing basira somewhat happy and in a safe place :] my wife <3

episode 25: " I am trying to help, to save us from this goddamned fucking nightmare machine!" - colin. MAN I REALLY WAS ROOTING FOR YOU!!! I WAS SO CONFIDENT YOU WEREN'T GONNA DIE!!!! it's over

episode 26: "I was worrying for a moment that you were Magnussing." - alice. MAGNUSSING BEING CANON MADE ME SAY IT EVEN MORE I'VE SAID IT LIKE TWICE ALREADY

episode 27: "You didn’t tell me the room was labelled, “Archivist.”" - celia. oooooh somebody's got TRAUMAAAAA LMAO

episode 28: "So you’re telling me you know nothing about an OIAR external contract being found with the bodies of two tattooed thugs who met rather grisly ends?" - TREVOR HERBERT???? anyway. ink5oul mention!!!!! i hope they stop killing people it's really rude

episode 29: "Alice, er… we’ve got to talk. It’s important." - teddy. i knew it was over for him but i didn't think it was gonna be THIS bad??? bye babe i guess??? 😭

episode 30: how do i even pick. the whole fucking episode. i can't. i am in a state of shock. i need to lay down for 30 years.