#devasena

[rambheem-is-real]

baahu really matched devasena’s freak

like yes he’s the softest and nicest guy but at the same time he’s insane when it comes to devasena

we talk about the head cutting scene but often forget that right before that scene we see that baahu lost his shit simply when he saw his wife in chains like he was just looking for a person to pounce on and a reason at that point and this was prior to him knowing about the attempted groping

posting because i saw a clip of the scene just now and ?? if looks could kill those chains would’ve melted instantly the way he was glaring at them and he’s literally never looked at anyone even kalakeya the way he was glaring at them lmao

perfectly matched the woman who survived 25 years of torture out of sheer spite and hatred for the man who killed her husband and fantasized about burning the guy alive and what he would scream like

in conclusion possessive power couple who make it other peoples problem amarsena

i need a fic where baahu survives and sees the way devasena got treated afterwards and goes batshit insane and kills a bunch of people where is it

that shot of amarendra baahubali in the climax behind mahendra as he stabs bhalla? baahu definitely manifested in that moment out of sheer rage i know that man was PISSED (also separate hc that may become its own post but the godly force driving mahendra’s actions was not shiva but amarendra’s spirit)

[anushkashettyfanclub]

Anushka Shetty as Devasena in Baahubali 2 is peak Cinema . 👑⚡️🦢 ICONIC FOREVER ✨️

[whimsiquix]

I just realised, Varadha and Devasena have a lot of parallels. Apart from obviously falling in love with a vaguely Prabhas shaped human:

They both spend 25 years being tortured by family, waiting for someone who may as well not remember them/not know they exist/moved on/wont come back; they’re both promised by a heroic figure that they’d return one day to save them and the country; they both get limbs and heads chopped off in a court of law for their honour; they’re both fierce proud beautiful people surrounded by enemies who want to take them down; they’re both people who are clearly born to rule; they both sacrifice everything for love and spend years in hell for it.

[eowyntheavenger]

He really said "please step on me" and then she did. And honestly? I respect that

[ahamasmiyodhah]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇; Sivagami messed up real bad.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Bhallaladeva x Manjari (OC)

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: @mahi-wayy

Devasena huffed as she cradled her swollen belly and swiftly walked towards the Chambers where Bahubali; her Husband and the King of Mahishmati, and Bhallaladeva, her elder brother figure and Commander of Mahishmati's army were planning something.

Things had gone awry when Devasena had took her firm stand up in front of Sivagami Devi, angering the Queen Mother in front of Whole Court. It was surprising, though, to see that Bhallaladeva confessed he didn't wish to marry Devasena anymore, and that Bahubali can marry her.

It would have led to civil war, but Bhallaladeva confronted Sivagami Devi which hurt her sentiments and the big ego she was growing back then, and the woman had declared that Bahubali will be crowned King and Bhallaladeva as Commander, but it came with consequences.

Bijjaladeva disowned his son.

Not that anyone cared, though.

The change in Bhallaladeva surprised both Devasena; who felt he was a snobby arrogant manchild and Bahubali, who was just happy his older brother was back. The two were though confused that who caused this change, and the day they found the answer when the Annual Jagadambika Poojan for nine days started.

The temple amidst intricate carvings and an aura of oil lamps lit up with a rhythmic sound of drums when Bhallaladeva, the fierce and imposing Commander of the Mahishmati Armed Forces, reached the place to join in the auspicious Pooja. There would stand courtiers, priests and noblemen, watching with reverence as the life within the temple, that earthly representative of divine power, the culture surrounding the kingdom.

As Pooja began, his thoughts strayed from rituals and chants toward the grand hall's center where a dancer moved with an entrancing grace. She was Manjari, a dusky-skinned Priestess whose movements turned into poetry, her anklets chiming with every step. She was dressed in red and gold, eyes glittering with a fire that almost matched the flames dancing upon the torches that supported the temple; and so living for the spirit of the goddess she adored. Bhallaladeva, sedate and poised as always, was entranced by Manjari's dance.

He saw each movement unfold as an expression of love and mystery, leading him deep into a trance. Her dance was much more than an art; it was a prayer, a powerful invoking to command every soul there to pay attention. For Bhallaladeva, the man of war and strategy, hardened, it was a profoundly spiritual experience to watch Manjari's ethereal dance.

He was exposed to the emotion-wrenching look in her eyes, the soft yet powerful dance of her figure, and the way that the mere presence of a person seemed to command the space. Amidst the blowing of conch shells and rising smoke of incense, Bhallaladeva came to realize that he was not observing something; but rather he was entranced by thin threads of invisibility connecting him to the divine priestess who danced as if she was calling the gods themselves to bear testimony to her devotion.

Devasena and Bahubali, both were elated that Bhallaladeva loved someone, and even helped him most of the times. Manjari was a Devadasi, hence even Sivagami didn't oppose her coming to Palace to see Devasena as she was pregnant, since a Devadasi is considered auspicious.

But right now, the danger looming over Manjari's head was something which scared Devasena.

The Princess of Kunthala reached the heavy doors and took a deeo breath, commanding the doors to be opened. Once they did, the occupants of room lookes at her. "Devasena? What are you doing here?" Bahubali asked as he and Bhallaladeva ran to her, making her sit on a Couch. Randev, Bahubali's friend brought a tumbler of water and handed it to Devasena.

"Bhalla! You have to run to Shiva Temple right now! Manjari! She's in danger!" Devasena exclaimed, her eyes wide. "What are you saying Devasena? Why will Manjari be in danger?" Bhallaladeva asked. "Rajmata. She wants you to marry the Princess of Simhadhwaja, Princess Yagnika. One of the courtiers told her about you and Manjari, and she has sent Soldiers to.." Bhallaladeva ran out before she could complete her sentence.

.

Manjari was all set to sleep when a shadow outside her hut in Temple sanctum, and the sound of footsteps made her sit straight. Manjari could feel the hammering of her heart in her chest as shadows appeared to move in the faintly lit corners of her room. Then came a whispery rustle of armor; metal faintly glinted, and into this darkness lurked the soldiers, their intent predatory.

Panic ran through her veins. She hastened, those fragile feet not making a sound on the cold marble floor as she slid by the door with her heart pounding with fear and instinct. That temple, once her safe haven, looked now like a trap closing in on her. She ran the maze of temple corridors, taking those ragged, shallow breaths. The soldiers pursued her mercilessly; their footsteps filled the air with an eerie echo of danger nipping at the heels of this poor woman running for life. Her sari fluttered behind her as a banner of defiance yet showed no clear path marked in front. Manjari darted her eyes to and fro searching around for her escape, but every turn took her deeper into the mazes.

Just as she thought she might find her way out, Manjari spun on her heel, the rush of fear fogging her vision, and crashed into something so immovable, so unyielding that it rooted her to the spot. She backpedaled, eyes wide with terror, but when she looked up again she was gazing into Bhallaladeva's face. His towering form filled her entire view, blocking her way out. His gaze, intensive and unreadable, locked onto hers, and the weight of her predicament settled heavily between them.

"Senapathi.." Manjari tearfully hugged him, as The soldiers behind her stopped short, freezing as they saw their doom in Bhallaladeva's eyes.

.

Bhallaladeva's footsteps echoed down the corridors of the palace, hot with indignation. His mind was bubbling over with bitter memories as he moved towards the Shiva Temple to his mother, Sivagami Devi, who was blamed. The Mahishmati kingdom had made her the regal queen mother-words for herself there were law. But to Bhallaladeva, she was a dim silhouette—thick and stern, unforgiving and unsweet. Bhallaladeva recalled how he always wanted his mother's love, even when a child; instead, he would get cold stares and a sharp tongue. Everywhere around him, people went around speaking of his strength and valor, but Sivagami's gaze was always on some fault-finding issue that had never brought across a proud motherly warmth. As he clenched his fists, memories of his childhood rushing back into his mind.

He could still remember all the attempts he had made to win her favor—by mastering the skill of war, performing exceptionally well in his studies, or showcasing his mastery in fights. But all in vain. Sivagami always compared him to his cousin, Amarendra Baahubali, whom she loved like her very son.

Bhallaladeva silently witnessed her when she gushed about everything Baahubali did, offering him that maternal pride Bhallaladeva has always wanted but would never receive. Every smile she threw towards Baahubali felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart as it reminds him of how he shall always be second in her eyes. Meanwhile, recalling the favours of Sivagami, Bhallaladeva ran toward the temple.

He recalled the day he was winning the fight in the ground, but she picked Baahubali, making known her decision that the throne would be bagged by him who served people best and not by him who sought power. The words had hurt him, and he recalled them every moment in his life.

He is not a son to her; on the contrary, he was a brutal man with an insatiable will to dominate, unbefitting the prince for which he had striven for his life. Bhallaladeva did not utter the pain, covering it with layers of ambitions and anger within him, and today the facade was crumbling apart. Before him was the temple, its massive structure jarringly contrasting the chaos within his soul.

Bhallaladeva's breath was laboured, his face screwed up in a snarl as he stormed up the steps, his eyes blazing with the fire of years-long pent-up resentment. This place, consecrated to the god of destruction, seemed apt for the storm that brewed inside him.

Today Bhallaladeva was not marching up to a temple; he was marching against the shackles of his whole life left untouched with scorn and negligence, every stride taken as a defiant act against the mother who never did see him for who he was.

Just as he turned in corner, a horrified Manjari ran into him. Looking in her eyes he realised how scared she was. Her dusky cheeks were red with all the crying, her eyes wide in fear and pain. Clutching her sari around her body, Manjari hugged him tightly. "Manjari, I'm here.. do not worry. Just... Close your eyes. You might not want to see." He said softly and Manjari nodded.

.

Thunder cackled in sky as Sivagami Devi sat on her throne, Bahubali and Devasena sitting nearby. The two were concerned as they waited Bhallaladeva's arrival. Soon the thunder cackled aloud, flashing the corridor in which stood a man holding a sword.

Sivagami Devi looked up, a shiver running down her spine as a bloody sight of a furious Bhallaladeva, and noted the flutter of a plain Red saree behind him. Bhallaladeva moved and her eyes widened when she saw Manjari, her hair partition filled with red Sindoor as he grabbed her hand and pulled her in, the girl looking fearful.

"Mother, meet your daughter-in-law, Manjari." He grinned, a grin which scared the three. Sivagami looked appalled, her wide eyes on Manjari as she looked at her from head to toe, her anger returning. "Bhalla!? What is this!?" She screamed.

Sivagami Devi's voice was at once shrill with indignation and robust as she berated Bhallaladeva with a flare in her eyes. "How dare you go against me to marry that temple dancer, Manjari?" she yelled, her speech loaded with scorn. "I wanted you to marry Yagnika, the Princess of Simhadhwaja, and seal an alliance for Mahishmati!" Her voice was robust, but behind it lay a hollow frustration—Bhallaladeva had gone against her wishes again.

Bhallaaladeva snapped. Climbing to his feet, he shouted into her face, "All my life, I've been nothing but a pawn in your schemes!" His voice was shaking with all the anger he felt, festering over the years. "You cared not for what I wanted, only for what you were about- your ambition. I am done living under your shadow," he said, the bitterness in his words as he confronted a mother who would never see him past his utility.

He took a step forward, eyes blazing with defiance. "I love Manjari," he said, his voice carrying through tension. "She sees me for what I am, not what she can get from me. I married her because she is my choice, not yours. I won't let you dictate my life again." Bold, defiant-a challenge flung at the feet of the woman who had always controlled his fate.

And for one moment, she was left speechless by this tirade, losing all her expression. Bhallaladeva's defiance shattered all the rigid expectations she had always imposed upon the world around her and created a chasm between them that seemed impossible to bridge. She could see him not as the son she had shaped but for the first time ever the man he had become, driven by a love that defied her will.

Sivagami soon moulded her expressions back in the cold one as she stood up. "You also are going like someone who once defied me." Bahubali looked away at that.

"Do not blame Bahu, Mother." Bhallaladeva sneered. "Manjari came in my life way before Devasena came in Bahu's life. And I won't let you dictate my life anymore." Bhallaladeva said. Sivagami stared at them for a moment before fleeting her eyes at Manjari, and left.

"Bhalla, you scared us!" Devasena exclaimed as she waddled fastly towards them and hugged Manjari. "Oh dear, you are so scared. Come, I will take you to room so that you can rest." She said and Manjari numbly nodded, before going with Devasena.

Manjari glanced back at Bhallaladeva, her heart pounding as she took in his imposing figure, drenched in blood from the fierce battle he had fought to protect her. His fierce gaze softened as it met hers, revealing a rare tenderness and love in his eyes. Overwhelmed by the realization of her deep feelings for him, she blushed, her cheeks turning a deep crimson. She gave him a small, shy smile before turning away.

.

.

.

.

.

@vishnavishivaa @mahi-wayy @yehsahihai @xxdritaxx @houseofbreadpakoda @ramayantika @warnermeadowsgirl @stxrrynxghts @mayakimayahai @chaliyaaa @celestesinsight @sambaridli @desigurlie @hum-suffer @sanskari-kanya @zeherili-ankhein @krsnaradhika @thegleamingmoon @ulaganayagi @voidsteffy @krishna-sangini @nidhi-writes @kaal-naagin @thecrazyinktrovert @koklknthiapsara

[womansplainer69]

Ok folks, I had made a post about how I missed my desi fandoms and I found a few creators who are still making content for their fandoms. So please comment/reblog this if you're a creator who makes fics, art, memes, shitposts or any other form of media for any desi fandom. I want to find and support more fan content creators!!! Also mention the fandom(s) you make posts for!

[myvarya]

~Dahi besan~

Bhalladeva x reader!oc

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Warning : fluff.

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“We have to find a way to eliminate Bahubali!” Bijjalladeva almost shouted, while Bhalladeva looked down and sighed, nodded his head. “Today's meeting is over.” he ordered everyone. Bijjalladeva grunted and limped away, with his followers following him. Slowly his room got empty, with just him. He went to his balcony to clear his thoughts and get some fresh air.

He heard throat clearing noise and chuckled. He turned around to find his one and only Meethi. She had a mischievous smile with her hands on waist looking at him. “did you miss me? Ofcourse you did!” she ran and hugged Bhalladeva with all her might. Bhalla didn't complain, it's the thing he needed the most right now, especially after a conversation with father, cause what the fuck was that!

He buried his face in her neck, smelling his favourite scent, “ok! Cuddling later” she broke the hug and took him to his bed and pushed him. He looked at her confused, he still remembers how they for the first time. Meethi had just got a job in the royal palace, yes she is a normal worker, but she stole his heart his when she broke that vase of his, and gave back sticking it together messily, it is still kept in a corner of his room, what? He wants to remember how he met her.

She back with bowl mixing somthing together, “lay on pillow properly!” she ordered and he did, immediately. She climbed on him, she tched, but wiped her fingers on her choli, she took one small piece of thread and tied bhalla front hair, like coconut tree. After doing that she took that blow and started putting the mask she made for him.

“What is this?” he asked curiously, “this is besan, dahi, and haldi, for you.” she replied, her toung sticking out a little, concentrating while putting on the mask, while he just admired her. “But why are putting this on me?” he again, “oho! Baby you have so many questions! Look at you, you look so tanned! And tired too. that's why!” she completed. He smiled sweetly listening to her, only she can talk to him like this, no one else, no one else has the audacity to even question him.

“Done!” she exclaimed breaking him out his thoughts, “isse gora ho jaunga mein?” he asked looking at himself in the mirror beside the bed, Meethi who was beside him, putting the leftover on her face nodded, “give me, I will put it go for you.” he took the blow from her hand and started putting the mask on her face.

“Done!” he exclaimed after a while, they both fell on the bed looking at the celling to let the mask dry.

Bhalla who was bored took his index finger and took a little mask on it and tasted it. He immediately frowned his eyebrows and stuck his toung out of his mouth at the bitter taste, Meethi immediately slapped his bicep, “ew, why would you do that! It doesn't taste nice” she scolded, “could've told me earlier” he told with little anger in his voice, she looked at him with eyes, he immediately shut up and looked down, “i have ordered snacks from the kitchen! No need to eat the mask” she completed.

He nodded, but shot up, “what if they saw us like this!” he asked panicking, Meethi immediately shot up as well, “oh no, I didn't think about that!” suddenly they heard a knock and he immediately pushed her behind his bed to hide, he went dusted his hand and made a pocker face, and went to open the door.

He saw the dasi who holding the plate full of snacks, but she looked as if she has seen a ghost, he didn't pay any mind to her and dismissed her, she immediately went away, to talk to her friends about the new look of the prince Bhalladeva.

He closed the door and put the plate on the bed, Meethi came out her hiding spot and started laughing hysterically, "why are you laughing like a bull?” he asked nonchalantly, Meethi stops immediately, “says the one who looks like one!” she replied back, he rolled his eyes and turned around only his appearance in mirror, his eyes widened, “Oh lord!!” he almost shouted, Meethi again couldn't help but wheeze at his misery. “This is all because of you” he said almost stomping his foot on the ground like a child, “Oh my baby!” she said cooing him and dragging him to the bathroom to wash of the mask on his face, which was not completely dry but it didn't matter now.

Bhalla came after washing his face, and laid on the bed with a slight pout, soon Meethi came after cleaning herself up. She saw how bhalla was behaving, she climbed the bed and big spooned him. He tried to get out of grip but she tightly hugged him. Few mins later he turned around to see her still looking at him with a idiotic smile on her face. He didn't say anything and buried his face in face, mumbling something to himself.

“don't worry about that vimala, I will handle her later!” she said, gently caressing his hair, he nodded and hugged her. “i love you.” he mumbled.

“I love you too my dahi bhalla.” she completed kissing his forehead. Slowly sleep indulged them.

The snacks were still there on the bed getting cold.

_________________________________________

I don't know what I just wrote but this is something came in my mind at 3 am in the morning. And also this slightly inspired by hehe- @mayakimayahai. I don't know after the conversation with her, gave this idea.

@tumharisakhi @ahamasmiyodhah @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @ranisingsnew @mahi-wayy @ranisingnewyetagian .

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - VII | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

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When the wedding day arrived, my heart pounded so furiously that it felt like it might leap out of my chest. I had pestered Bhalla all week about when Baahu and Deva would arrive, and his vague responses had only added to my growing anxiety.

Yesterday, the people of Kuntala arrived—Kumar, Jayasena, and Devasena's sister-in-law. Seeing them again had been both a comfort and a dagger. Especially Kumar, whose piercing gaze practically shot daggers at Bhalla when they crossed paths.

Last night, I had the opportunity to meet with them. It was a brief but heartfelt conversation with the people who treated me as their own. They deserved to know at least some of what I had planned. But I had to tread cautiously.

Kumar, as expected, was not having it. "Are you being blackmailed? Forced into this?" he demanded, his voice low but firm, his eyes full of fire. 

"If you are, just say the word. We'll take you away from here. Mahishmati be damned."

I shook my head. "You can't. Even if you did, Mahishmati is bigger and stronger. Any rebellion against it would only bring suffering to Kuntala. The people would struggle, and the kingdom would fall. I can't let that happen."

Jayasena, who had remained quiet, finally spoke, his voice heavy with concern. "Why are you doing this, my dear? You're not someone who values material possessions over the well-being of people. We're genuinely worried for you."

Kumar nodded in agreement, his expression a mix of frustration and worry.

"This is my fate," I replied softly. "But it's not without purpose. Baahu and Deva will be here for the wedding, and I see that as a small victory."

"Victory?" Kumar asked, his brow furrowing. "How is this a win?"

"Bhalla accepted my choice to have them attend. That alone is a crack in his resolve. If I can make this happen, then in time, we can bring Baahu and Deva back to Mahishmati for good. Not just as guests, but to see them rightfully crowned."

Kumar's expression shifted, the slightest hint of a smile forming. "You have a sharp strategy," he said approvingly.

Devasena's sister-in-law, however, was still uneasy. "Even if you're confident in this plan, Bhalla can be dangerous. What if something happens to you?"

I gave her a sad smile. "I'll take care of it. Whatever comes, I'll handle it. But you must promise me that this stays between us. Baahu and Deva cannot know about any of this."

The group exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.

***

As I sat there, my body washed clean with milk and rose petals, my hair massaged with fragrant oils, and my skin wrapped in the finest silk, I closed my eyes and let the moment's weight settle over me. The scent of roses and sandalwood filled the air, and my hair was adorned with jewels and flowers. I never imagined my wedding would be like this—away from the people I love, marrying someone I never thought I would, a man I once saw as a villain.

My thoughts were interrupted by a soft touch on my shoulder. I gasped and opened my eyes, only to see a reflection in the mirror that I hadn't expected.

Devasena.

Her face radiated grace, love, and strength. Her sharp, queenly eyes softened with warmth as she smiled. I turned around in disbelief and threw myself into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Oh, Deva, I missed you so much," I whispered, my voice breaking as tears filled my eyes.

She chuckled softly, her own eyes glistening as she cupped my cheeks. Her touch was gentle and comforting, yet it carried the weight of all she had endured.

I stepped back to take her in, noticing her simple attire. She wore an old, plain sari without jewels, yet her pregnancy glow outshone any ornament. She looked content, but this only made my heart ache more.

I turned and removed the other helpers and people inside the chamber, as I only needed my Deva with me.

"Why are you still wearing this old sari? Let me give you something new—something beautiful," I pleaded.

Devasena shook her head and smiled. "This is my life now. I live as my husband does and endure as he endures."

Her words struck a deep chord, and my lips trembled as fresh tears spilt. Baahu and Deva deserved so much more than this.

"Now," she said gently, brushing my tears away, "today is not about me. Let's focus on you."

Deva moved quickly, selecting the finest jewels from the piles before us. She then adorned me piece by piece, lining my eyes with kajal and dabbing behind my ear to ward off the evil eye.

I kept waiting for her to ask questions, to scold me or express anger. But she didn't. She just smiled—a serene, knowing smile.

"Aren't you mad at me?" I whispered hesitantly, lowering my eyes, ashamed to meet hers.

Her hands were warm and steady as they lifted my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes. They glistened with tears but were full of understanding.

"Mad? At you?" she whispered. "Are you crazy?"

She placed the mang tikka delicately on my forehead and continued, "How could I be mad at my sister for marrying and becoming queen?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "But you're the one who's supposed to be queen, and Baahu should be king—not Bhalla."

Devasena chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Baahubali is king wherever he is, and my life is happiest. And you, my dear, are destined for much more than you realize. I could never be mad at you."

Her words enveloped me like a warm embrace, but then her gaze turned sharp, piercing into my soul. "All I want to know is this: are you happy? Are you doing this willingly?"

Her question hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. I felt the weight of her concern and love and knew I couldn't hide the truth from her.

I couldn't spill everything out—not here, not now. Maybe later. I just nodded, looking as shy and demure as possible. But I could see it in Deva's eyes—she didn't fully buy it. Still, she said nothing, simply focusing on helping me get ready.

My breath hitched when she finished and led me out of the chamber. Standing just outside was a figure with such a commanding, strong presence that I felt a familiar pull in my chest.

Baahubali.

Even in his worn, simple cotton dhoti, with a shawl draped loosely over his broad shoulders, he looked like the king he was born to be. His smile widened as our eyes met.

"Baahu," I whispered, running to him and wrapping my arms around his strong frame. He hugged me back, his hand gently patting my back and his lips pressing a warm kiss to my forehead. His affection was like that of a father to his daughter—a pure love made my heart ache.

"Well," he said, his voice rich with warmth, "we couldn't let you get married without giving you a gift."

He pulled out a small bundle wrapped in a cotton cloth and carefully unwrapped it. Inside was a delicate gold chain, more like a bracelet.

"I found this in the market," he said, his smile softening, "and I hope it will be your good luck charm."

He gently tied it around my wrist. Tears spilt from my eyes as I looked at the two of them—Baahu and Deva—two people so pure, so kind, who deserved so much more than the life they had been given.

As we made our way to the wedding arena, I held on to Deva and Baahu's hands like lifelines. The moment's weight pressed on my chest, making breathing hard. My heart pounded so fiercely that I feared I might drop dead then and there. Part of me even wished I would.

Bhalla stood at the centre of the grand stage, his piercing eyes fixed on us as we approached. I could feel the tension in the air—his anger towards Baahu and Deva was palpable. But then, his gaze shifted to me, and something changed.

In his eyes, I saw more than just anger. A softness, a longing, a quiet vulnerability made my steps falter. He looked at me as though I were the only person in the world, as though I were his salvation.

And just like that, it happened.

The rituals unfolded in a blur, the priests' chants echoing through the arena. Bhalla tied the three sacred knots around my neck, sealing our union as flower petals rained from above. The trumpets of elephants sounded in celebration, and the crowd's cheers filled the air.

A simple girl from the 21st century had just married one of the most infamous villains she had once watched on her screen.

And in that moment, as the world celebrated, I couldn't tell if I was stepping into a dream or a nightmare.

***

My body shuddered with nervousness as they finished preparing me for my wedding night with the King of Mahishmati. My stomach churned, and I felt like I might vomit.

I clung to Deva's hand as she prepared to leave me alone in the elaborately decorated chamber. I had settled stiffly on the bed, but my heart raced, my palms clammy.

"Please, don't leave me," I whimpered, holding her hand tightly, desperate for her comfort.

A soft chuckle left her lips as she knelt beside me, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

"What's the matter? It's your wedding night. It's supposed to be the start of your union with your husband," she teased gently, though her eyes softened with concern.

I swallowed hard but was not scared, but it's just that I had never gone that far with any guy as much as I could see them as tough and acted like I had done it; I never did.

I tried to hold her back and tried to find an excuse. "But I want to spend more time with you," I said quickly. "You'll be leaving tomorrow, and..."

She chuckled again. "You'll be fine, my dear. Trust yourself," she said before rising to her feet and leaving me there. 

I sighed, stood up, and walked to the balcony to get some air. The cool night breeze kissed my skin as I looked at the glowing moon.

The reality of it all hit me like a wave. I couldn't believe it—I was married. Married to Bhalla, the King of Mahishmati, a man I once thought of as nothing more than a character on a screen.

My fingers tightened around the balcony railing as I tried to calm my breathing. The thought of what lay ahead made my heart race even faster.

I closed my eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over me. Its gentle touch was a comfort against the storm of nerves swirling inside me. I exhaled slowly, willing myself to relax and find some calm in the chaos of my thoughts.

But then, I felt it—a soft hand clasping the exposed skin of my waist. My breath hitched as I was gently pulled back against a broad chest, the heat of his body seeping into mine. The scent, the presence, the familiarity—I knew exactly who it was.

Bhalla.

His breath fanned my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart raced as his lips brushed against my temple, trailing downward to bite the curve of my ear softly. A gasp escaped my lips, my body betraying my attempt to remain composed.

His hand slid upward, lightly clasping my neck. His touch was firm but not harsh, his fingers tracing a path from the column of my throat to the edge of my jaw. He tilted my face slightly, his thumb brushing over my lips. I felt the pressure as he parted them gently, his intent clear in how his touch lingered.

I couldn't breathe or think—my body frozen between uncertainty and the undeniable pull of his presence.

"Finally, after all these years, you had no idea how much I waited for this day," he murmured, his voice thick with longing. His lips travelled down my neck, pressing fervent kisses against my skin. Each touch left a trail of fire, and I couldn't help but shudder under his intensity.

I scrunched my eyes shut, his words echoing in my mind. He waited for me? For years?

The thought barely had time to form before his lips found mine, silencing any questions I might have had. His kiss was fervent and consuming, and I felt the weight of his emotions pour into me. My fingers instinctively tangled into his thick hair, holding onto him like he might disappear if I let go.

The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of our breaths and the heat of his touch.

I wasn't sure how we moved from the balcony to the bed, but every thought dissolved under the haze of his touch. My body, my senses—everything could only remember the way his lips travelled over me, from my own to my neck, then lower, leaving a trail of fire and possession.

The chamber filled with the melody of my moans and whimpers, a symphony that seemed to match the rhythm of his hands and mouth. His lips lingered, branding me with marks of his claim as though he wanted the world to know I belonged to him.

His hands skillfully worked at removing my saree, the fabric slipping away and leaving me half-exposed. A shiver ran through me as the cool night air contrasted with the heat in his eyes, which never left mine. His gaze showed a raw intensity, making me bite my lip in nervousness and anticipation.

God, I shouldn't be doing this, my mind screamed. But then a louder thought overpowered it, reminding me—he is my husband.

Slowly, his fingers worked to untie the knots of my blouse behind my back, the fabric loosening and slipping away, leaving me bare. Instinctively, I crossed my arms over my chest, shielding myself from his gaze.

But, ever so gentle in that moment, Bhalla smiled—a smile that softened the edges of his otherwise commanding demeanour. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a firm yet tender embrace. His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered sweet nothings, each word a balm to my racing heart.

"It's me," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You don't have to be shy or scared. I am yours as much as you are mine."

With those words, his hands found mine, gently guiding them away from their defensive position. My heart thundered as our chests met, the warmth of his skin melding with mine. At that moment, I felt a strange mix of vulnerability and comfort, as though his presence alone could shield me from the world.

His lips moved almost reverently as though he were following an invisible map etched across my skin. Each kiss sent waves of sensation through me, his touch igniting parts of me I didn't know could feel so alive.

When his lips reached my chest, I gasped, the stars behind my closed eyes bursting into constellations. His mouth left a trail of warmth, his every movement deliberate and worshipful. My fingers found their way into his thick curls, clutching them like my anchor to reality. I tugged gently, eliciting a low hum from him that sent shivers through me.

As his lips travelled lower, tracing their way to my navel, I could do nothing but whimper, my breaths shallow and uneven. My heart pounded wildly as I dared to lower my gaze, only to meet his piercing eyes—intense, full of unspoken promises and burning desire. The way he looked at me, even in this most vulnerable moment, made me feel seen in a way that was almost too much to bear. Yet, I couldn't look away.

I was utterly his, and he made sure I knew it.

His hands traced my knees and slowly higher as they caressed my thighs, making me force my thighs together; just as his hands claimed higher and my moan raised, a loud calling of Bhalla's name made both of us gasp.

Bhalla's hands froze mid-motion, and I felt the air in the room shift. For a moment, neither of us moved, our chests heaving as we tried to process the interruption.

His brows furrowed, irritation flashing across his face, but his expression softened as he turned back to me. Though his frustration was evident, I could see the unspoken apology in his eyes.

"Well, just my luck," I muttered under my breath, unable to hide the mix of disappointment and embarrassment that tinged my voice.

Bhalla sighed deeply, brushing a hand through his thick curls before leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "Stay here," he murmured.

Alone in the chamber, I clutched the sheets tightly around me, my mind racing and my body still humming with the remnants of his touch.

TO BE CONTINUED...

taglist: @mahi-wayy @ahamasmiyodhah

@whippersnappersbookworm @vishnavishivaa @mayakimayahai

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[hum-suffer]

We'll Say Hello Again (Nevermind the chasm between us) 13

Gauri would never wish for someone's death, really. Not unless she had reasons.

She's eighteen when she begins to reconsider the parameters of the said reasons.

In order to win the Rajmata's favour and to become a Prince consort of the realm, many lords have started vying for her attention in frankly unflattering manners. One tried to buy her with gold, another tried to buy her with promises of allowance of other future lovers, and a particularly peculiar one tried to buy her with promise of privacy.

What is she going to do with gold? She's a fucking Princess. Why would she need any lover when she has her husband? She's loyal, thank you. And why would she be enticed with a basically loveless life? She can have her privacy in her own rooms.

Bhalla doesn't often engage with her when she tells him about how irritating it really is to be the center or unwanted attention— he loves all the attention he gets. Amar, while he understands her ire, he surrenders with a shrug and tells her that she can live by his side for all their lives, for all he cares. He says that she'll be happier with him than any of these lords who want her title and perhaps her inheritance. Gauri rolls her eyes at him, he's not completely wrong.

The life of a spinster would be much preferred over the constant pressure to perform wifely duties for someone who did not love her.

As she's adding the final details to the tunic in her hands, Gauri looks over the arena at her brothers, Katappa and Bhairav, all training. She's earned her day off from the training, giving her medical knowledge exam not an hour ago. She doesn't know how well she's done, and doesn't ever want to know.

Gauri already has decided that she's going to be in the cabinet of ministers, preferably for the child development department. The medical knowledge is a background that she needs in order to make her credentials shin even further.

The sting of the needle on her finger brings her back and Gauri breathes in relief when she sees that her blood hasn't smudged on the dark periwinkle of the shirt. It's muslin, rare and gorgeous. And repurposed from a gift that one of the lords who tried to buy her with gold gave her.

Beside her, Yamuna shakes her head. "Your highness, give this work to someone else. You'll only end up with aching fingers, you've been behind this for two days!"

Gauri shushes her suspiciously. "I cannot do that, my friend," she says, holding the urge to lift up the tunic to see her completed work. "I am doing this for a birthday present. I will not pawn off a gift to another to work upon."

Yamuna shakes her head. "At least give it a rest for the morning, now. You've already got to go for your astronomy lessons in three hours. Rest for a couple of hours, you've been over working."

Gauri playfully raises her eyebrows,"Haven't you become much more overbearing since getting married?"

"I wonder what will happen to you, then," she deadpans,"you've been overbearing since you knew how to walk."

Gauri laughs, loud and careless of any officer vying for her hand. "You've become cheeky. I must meet Harihar and thank him for gifting you some humour as your marriage gift."

Yamuna hesitates for a second and lowers her voice,"That's not the thing he's gifted me."

Gauri grins and looks at her friend's mildly scandalous words. "How positively risque, my friend. Absolutely admirable. Why aren't you around me in my waking hours more often?"

Yamuna purses her lips and shrugs dryly. "Your dog doesn't leave you alone in daylight."

"Be respectful," Gauri narrows her eyes but keeps her tone breezy. "As per his position, he is still your senior."

As if sensing that they were talking about him, one of Bhairav's arrows flies towards them and embeds itself in the bark of the tree behind them. Gauri doesn't bother removing it before she turns back to Bhairav with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugs cheekily before he bows, bending low. Gauri waves her hand in dismissal and Bhairav straightens while Katappa shakes his head bemusedly from behind him. "Have better manners than that, boy," he says, lightly swatting Bhairav on his head.

Bhairav turns back to Katappa and Gauri turns her eyes back to Yamuna, who gives her a knowing look.

"I've often heard that dogs get territorial very easily."

This time, a look from Gauri tells her that she's at a dangerous threshold. Yamuna smartly turns the conversation back to her rest.

"Bhairavrath!" She calls him and his attention is instantly on her, so is Bhalla and Amar's. When Bhairav is sufficiently near them, she gestures at Gauri. "Tell her that she can rest for two hours before her next class and escort her to her rooms, please."

"I don't obey you, Yamuna," he says, charming and cocksure. This change isn't too new, he's had a lot of increase in his confidence after Katappa has basically made him an apprentice to become the next Royal Guard Chief. The ability to lead and strategise and to be proven the very best among quite literally hundreds has rubbed off on him.

(Gauri remembers the day that he quietly seethed at her and asked her if she had anything to do with Katappa choosing him to be the next successor.

She remembers coolly regarding him before telling him that if he had been favoured by her especially, it would be obvious enough that he'd have never had to ask. He'd been quiet the whole day before asking her hesitantly if she would wish him luck.

Gauri had gotten him several books on war strategy and commissioned him a bracelet that doubled as a weapon.

It glints on his hand in the sunlight even now.)

Bhairav looks at Gauri, eyes downcast in reverence. "My princess."

"My Archer."

"May I escort you to your chambers to rest for a while?" Gauri knows what he's doing, deciding for her that she will rest, only asking permission to be the one to escort her. She huffs a laugh, he's getting audacious, but that audacity is what makes her days interesting.

"You may," she says at last,"after you put that sword of yours away become more presentable."

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When they're sitting for dinner, Maa asks about their days and Gauri relaxes, tuning out the answers because she knows them already. It's only when she hears her name that she looks up at Maa.

"And Gauri? Mahashivratri is coming up, will you like to take care of all the preparations?"

For a moment, she's speechless."With great honour, Maa. But you will have to guide me, I have not planned something at a large scale yet."

It's true. Gauri has planned their birthdays and monthly Shivratri at the palace, but she's never had anything to do at such a large scale. She knows everything must be flawless— Mahadev may be her friend but she's not willing to risk his ire.

Maa smiles at her,"Of course, daughter. Alongside, can you please help Bhalla and Bahu with the preparations to receive the governor of the West province?"

Dread fills her. She doesn't want to do this. The time for annual reports is two months past and the man had been there already. There were no peculiarities in the West province, as far as the court reports went. She'll have to ask Advait, the court singer she'd come to know, to do some investigations. However, she is fairly sure that there's absolutely no issue with the West province.

And the only conclusion for the governor to come here means that he wants some special boon— which could include a marriage alliance with either of the royal children.

The prospect alone makes her want to bare the dagger that is now always strapped to her calf.

(She's not returned it, hasn't returned it since the day they almost killed a man.

He hasn't asked for it.)

Gauri is more apprehensive about this but she nods with a smile nonetheless, glad to be trusted with the administration of the household.

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Her brothers have no sense of propriety.

It's as they are walking back to the wing that they have been allotted since their very birth, that Bhalla almost snaps at her. "What's gotten your face so down, Gauri?"

"I'm afraid that the Western governor is coming here for my hand," she whispers, aware of Katappa, Bhairav and Veeraraj behind them. Bhalla had him sworn as his guard when Veeraraj somehow built Bhalla a special kind of mace that is now his preferred weapon. He isn't untrusted, but while Gauri would trust Bhairav with her life— she fears Veeraraj to be greedy enough to squash all loyalty for money.

Amar shakes his head,"You are worrying needlessly, Gauri. He doesn't have any children."

"He has himself." Although older than her, the man had married and his wife had died in some disease. He has been a bachelor for half of Gauri's life.

Amar scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous, Gauri. He's thirty! A dozen years your elder, Maa will not agree even if he propositions you."

Bhalla shrugs,"It isn't that big of a gap, honestly. And if Gauri marries him, we can secure the Western banks for better trade." At her betrayed look, he gives her an irritated look back. "Don't look at me like that, Gauri. You thought of the political consequences, too, or you would have been more vehement in your disagreement."

Guilty, she looks down. "I know. And I'm afraid Maa has considered the same."

"It matters not." Amar says, grasping her hand in his. The feel of their hands together has always been the same, rough and grounding. They both have rough hands because of their training, and that only results in holding her anchored when she feels so lost in her own thoughts. "You will not be marrying without your agreement. You are a Princess."

"Exactly," Bhalla says nonchalantly,"You are a Princess. You are not getting married to some lowly governor. I'll find you a King, someone brave and mighty."

But I want someone caring too, she thought, her hand tightening on Amar's. I want to be loved.

She wants a family, yes, but she does not want her children to be born out of duties and not of love. She doesn't know what wants, but it's certainly not a loveless life.

She deserves to be loved too, damn it.

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Amar raises his eyebrows at her when he finds her studiously completing the embroidery at the collar of a tunic in her rooms.

"That's not mine," he says, presumptuously. Gauri laughs at his forwardness and doesn't reply. He comes to sit beside her, but knows better than to touch anything that is in her hands without her explicit permission. "That's not for me either, is it?"

Gauri shakes her head. Amar has broader shoulders, he's built and built heavily. Bhalla, too, has a more muscle nuanced build.

"It's for Bhalla?"

Gauri doesn't reply, focusing on the embroidery. She's doing the last outline and it needs to be perfect, because if it isn't, Gauri doesn't have the time to make another one. She will, of course, if need be. But it won't be as perfect in one day as it's been in one week.

"You're making this for Bhairav." It's not a question this time but she hears the incredulity. Gauri hums as she stops for a moment.

She looks at her brother and explains,"His birthday is coming up, overmorrow. I have been remiss in the past years in finding his birthday and he has been unnaturally elusive as well. But I found it last year, and I intend to make his birthday happy."

(He has no family. His empty home haunts him. He is haunted. He is my sword. He is my friend.)

Gauri will try her damnedest to make him happy, if it's the last thing she does.

"And you're telling me this now?" Amar asks outrageously,"I want to give him a gift too, now what will I do? It won't be done in time!"

Gauri purses her lips in mild irritation, wondering if she should poke him with her needle. She decides to have mercy and simply says,"Suffer."

"My sister hates me!" He groans dramatically and flops down in the bed. Gauri doesn't pay him any heed until he manages to wiggle himself onto her lap. "Did you see the girl that Bhalla has recently been focused on?"

Gauri hums disinterestedly,"Yes, she was the one I tasked with preparing the Governor's rooms. She's pretty."

"But why is he getting to suddenly befriend the workers of the castle?"

"Perhaps our brother has fallen in love." Gauri says with a shrug, even though she doesn't believe it. Bhalla would never love a simple citizen.

Amar snorts and fiddles with the sleeve of the tunic. "I think not. Do you think he's changing?"

Not for the better, Gauri knows.

"Time changes everyone, Amar," she says patiently and uses her teeth to cut the extra thread once she's finished.

Amar swats her shoulder,"Don't be a savage, you have a pair of scissors!"

"Did I ask your opinion?"

"It's better than yours, for sure!"

"Oh, get back to your rooms, you lazy bear."

Gauri folds the tunic and puts it in the drawer beside her bed. She lays down as well, after putting her sewing kit on the floor. "Bahu?" Amar hums as he sits up, shifting to lay down beside her. "Is it wrong that I don't want to marry for an alliance?"

"Absolutely not, Gauri," he says resolutely. "There's nothing wrong in wanting love. Besides, you're too young for marriage."

Gauri bites her lip thoughtfully and doesn't reply. Amar somehow sounds naive to her ears. Has he remained in the past or has she grown up too quickly?

____________________________________________________

Tags: @alhad-si-simran @vijayasena @voidsteffy

(a shorter chapter because ab aage bohot action hone wala hai and i wanted to publish this before my exams lol)

[houseofbreadpakoda]

Naatpu-3

Ponniyin Selvan X Bahubali Crossover

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Vandiyathevan woke up with a jerk. A slight noise had alerted him. "It must be those pindaris, to hell with them" he cursed as he pulled out his sword from its sheath and slipped out of bed. He waited for a while for any other sounds when he heard it. "Nanba?"

Arase? At this hour? He sneaked upto the window where he heard Aditha from and threw it open.

Aditha jumped onto the sill he was hanging from and into the room as vandiyathevan quickly shut the window behind him. "My lord vanthiya, took you a great deal of time to hear me."

"Arase, why did you have to slip in through- are the pindaris waging a war?!" Aditha shaked his head in denial waving his hand as he caught for breath.

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Aditha sleekly slid under the bed before vandiyathevan could comprehend what was happening. He trotted towards the door still hazy at being subjected to so much so early into the day. He opened the door to see Devasena, who quickly barged into the room and shut the doors behind herself.

"Where's Aditha?" She sternly asked him, and before he could act clueless he saw Aditha slip out from under the bed and stand upto his full stature.

Vandiyathevan stepped back from infront of Aditha. Why was the Arase here at this hour? And why was Yuvarani here? Rather how had she come to know?

"Aditha are you out of your mind?" Devasena shrieked yet whispering every syllable.

"I mean-" Aditha said smirking at her making her throw a pillow at him. "You saw me from your anthapuram? Was I so loud?"

"You were pretty loud, I'm surprised our soldiers weren't alerted. All the training sessions, constant boar hunts, nothing can teach them to be alert. And then the pindaris attack and we lose a thousand of them. I can't-"

"Devasena...." Aditha said getting closer trying to calm her down. And Devasena got the cue. She exhaled relaxing her shoulders, looked back at Aditha trying hard to smile. "How are you? It's been a while."

"I'm very well!" Said Aditha grinning, "I've also heard that you've been doing really really well." Devasena scrunched her nose trying to figure out what Aditha was speaking about and her eyes widened when she realised. She glared back at vandiyathevan. He shook his head grinning. And then he saw her smile. He knew what the yuvarani was about to bring up. "Mhm, then I guess you would also know how vandiyathevan was doing."

"Ohhhhh Rightt. I completely forgot." Aditha said smiling at vandiyathevan bewildering him further. He quickly tried to change the topic.

"Arase you could've very well brought your troop and yourself through the main gates with a great degree of pomp. Why did you have to sneak in through-"

"Trust me Nanba my ego would've loved that, but entering the kingdom at this hour? That too unannounced? It wouldn't seem right. But I needed to talk to you after the message you'd sent me! So Parthiba and the rest stayed back in the tents at the outskirts of Kuntala. A post might reach the kingdom authorities in an hour or two about my arrival and then I can enter back with the rest of them tommorow morning."

So much, just to know about the yuvarani's love interest a few hours earlier. But again, this was Aditha. And the yuvarani in concern here was Devasena. Devasena had fallen for someone. And that had clearly gotten Aditha excited enough to ride down to Kuntala in a matter of less than nine hours. The poor horses.

For the next few hours, the three sat in Vandiyathevan's chambers speaking about everything they had piled up in their heads. Devasena spoke about the last boar hunt they went on which ultimately led to shivudu, making her fluster and the other two giggle. And just to make things light on Devasena, Aditha asked Vandiyathevan about how his spying mission was going on, which he himself led to Kundavai even though his nanba very evidently tried to avoid it. Both Devasena and Vandiyathevan knew better, than to bring up Nandhini, so they remained mum.

The sky had slowly begun to turn a lighter shade of blue, when both Aditha and Devasena realised it was time they sneaked back.

"Try not to get caught." Devasena told Aditha before opening the chamber doors. "I'll try. But you're soldiers are a little too good." Devasena tried to respond assuming Aditha was mocking her kingdom's army. "No seriously" Aditha responded "Your general found me sneaking in. But then he let me proceed after recognising me." Devasena sighed

"Devasena you're doing just fine, so is your army. Just.......just calm down. You're good. You're really really good. I'll see you in a few hours with my soldiers." He waved and smiled at Vandiyathevan before jumping out of the window.

"Get some sleep" Devasena said before leaving. "With Aditha here, today will be one long day, I can promise you that."

.

.

.

I didn't think people would read this, but seeing people still write fics about rrr, bahubali and kgf, i couldn't help but churn all my thoughts into this story. So regardless of the number of notes this gets, you will get chapter after chapter on this crossover until I'm done with it thank yoooss!!!

Also HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Tagging: @vijayasena @yehsahihai @thelekhikawrites @willkatfanfromasia @celestesinsight @harinishivaa @whippersnappersbookworm @sambaridli everyone else, it's been a long time I've tagged anyone on my writing, I love you all <3<3<3

[desikanyaa]

Nothing. Just the Bahus straight up decapitating shit heads who try laying a finger on Devasena. That is all.

[ifitsagirlphebeifitsaboyphoebo]

Baahusena.. As in Deva as Baahu and Varadha as Devasena... But ofc..with a happy ending...

[salaarfanindia]

Ok, y'all, after watching bahubali for so many years .. it is surprising that no one ever found that bhallaldeva had a handcuffs and chains kink.. I mean bro chained her whenever he got a chance..... just saying 😌 🤷 😏

[eowyntheavenger]

AmarSena + touch

[bhalare-vichitram]

Y/n: Bhalla gave me a get better soon card.

Devasena: That's sweet!

Y/n: I wasn't sick. He just thought I could do better.

[mellaga-karagani]

OKAY YOU DID BAHU, YOU DID BHALLA, NOW PLS DO DEVASENA!!!

Devasena《Bahubali》Romance Dialogue Set

Requests are open, and my asks and inbox are always open!

“In a room full of art, I’d still stare at you.”

“And I’d choose you, in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

“If i had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever,”

“My blade has two jobs: cut flowers to make you bouquets of love, and slice the skin of any fiend that disrespects you.”

“Hold my hand in secret and kiss me when no-one’s looking.”

☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆

Taglist: @allari-ammayi, @vellipo-mellaga (Let me know if you wish to be part of the taglist!)

Note: Requests are open, I write mostly for telugu characters, but I also accept general Indian!!