#feels poetic na

[hissterical-nyaan]

One year since my IKEA date

[kasagia]

Right Hand VI

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You're tired of listening to others and of being afraid of prophecies that don't make sense and that were made up by someone else. Your present belonged only to you. And hell knows, you're going to take your future too. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; I was listening to 'Down Bad' by Taylor and I used quotes from a few of them; TEXT NOT CHECKED - I' barely managed to write it on time' I've just ended it and wanted to post it for you, since you are waiting for it so long; it took me ages but I hope you will like it; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~ Epilogue ~•♤♤♤•~

Feyd rarely felt pain he didn't like. The years spent on Giedi Prime—or rather, years of enduring his uncle's methods of making him a true Harkonnen, his worthy successor—made Feyd love pain. He found pleasure in it—something he had to learn if he wanted to survive.

But it didn't bring him any satisfaction or pleasure when you pierced his chest with one of his swords. He feels pure pain. Anger, betrayal, and hurt.

He hates the way he falls limply to his knees in front of you. He hates that he still looks at you like you're a saint. He hates that he hopes you'll at least look him in the eyes, as if that would bring him some kind of salvation. He hates how lost he feels now and how he's slowly losing awareness of his surroundings. He hates that even though you stabbed him, all he can do is stare at you, clinging to the sight of you more than to his life.

"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N."

He feels you unhook your poisoned dagger from his arm. Feyd thinks you're doing it to finish him off. Poetically kill him with the weapon he gave you. He closes his eyes and waits for the final stab or throat slit. But nothing like that happens. He doesn't have the strength to turn around and see exactly what you're doing, but your words alone are enough for him to imagine the scene that is happening behind him.

"I may not be a Harkonnen, but I've picked up a few of their habits. If you want an agreement between us, show me your hand." After your words, he can hear a hiss from Atreides when you plunge the dagger into your joined hands, piercing them both through.

Feyd would have laughed mockingly if he hadn't spent all his energy on breathing slowly. He remembered explaining to you how contracts, such as arranged marriages, were sealed on Giedi Prime. The Harkonnens shook hands and pierced them with swords, thus signing a blood pact. This also applied to marriages and other such things. Blood bound them stronger than any words or signatures on paper. He cursed himself for the fact that, seeing your scared face at his words, he withdrew from this idea and decided to make a verbal agreement between you. He should be the one to bind you with his blood, not Atreides.

The steel in his body rubs against his lower ribs, but it does not damage any major organs. He tries to keep the sword in the exact same position you stuck it in, but he feels like he's going to faint from all the pain, the blood, and the fear for you that he feels now.

You made him so weak that even after you stabbed him, all he could think about was your safety and your well-being. Every shaky breath he took, every slow beat of his heart as he fought to stay conscious—it was all for you.

He just hoped like hell that you weren't lying a few moments ago, that this would all turn out to be just one of your games, and that you would soon end Atreides' life. But it's not like that.

"Let this blood be a symbol of our union." Your sweet, dangerous whisper reaches Feyd's ears.

He's raging with powerlessness and anger. That Atreides dog didn't deserve to mix his blood with yours. Only Feyd should be able to do this. Only his black blood should merge with your crimson, staining your joined hands as you swore allegiance to each other. His heart hurts more than the wound you gave him as he imagine how you and this desert rat are now echanging each other's blood.

If he hadn't been placed in such a vulnerable state by you, he would have ripped Atreides' heart out with his bare hands for daring to mix his blood with yours. A cold shiver runs down his spine at the thought of Atreides connecting with you in yet another way. A way Feyd was robbed too many times.

He tries to get up, but he doesn't have enough strength. All he can do is place his hands on the floor, trying to take the weight off his torso. The blade scratching his flesh bothers him much less than the fact that Atreides has the nerve to touch you or that you're blatantly ignoring him while playing whatever game you're playing right now.

"Leave him to me. I want… to repay him for all these years of fulfilling his wishes." The cool, composed tone of your voice that you used many times when the two of you dealt with inconvenient prisoners did nothing to inspire his hope or quench his rage.

You really betrayed him. You, of all people. How stupid and naive he was to believe you. He should have killed you the moment his eyes met yours. You were an intruder. A spy in disguise. His bittersweet end.

The door slams shut behind Atreides. Feyd hears your footsteps, the sand from your soles falling back onto the ground—the same ground where his black, thick blood is now flowing. You walk over to him; if he could focus enough, he would see the toes of your shoes.

You kneel in front of him, gently tugging on his head, causing him to rest on your shoulder. He can smell your blood dripping from your hand. You stain his head with it. Under any other circumstances, he would have appreciated how close you were to him, but now, with the sword rubbing uncomfortably against his insides, your touch doesn't bring any comfort at all. Even your lips pressed against his forehead cannot calm the volcano of emotions boiling inside him. But he is helpless. He is unable to do anything; he is completely surrendered to your grace. It wouldn't bother him a few hours ago. Now he hated it.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, then use the voice on him to tell him to fall asleep. When he drifts off to sleep at your command, he is already planning how he will take revenge on you. And hell knows you're going to pay him for it.

"He'll be furious." One of your spies comments as she helps you carry Feyd's body out of the sietch.

Inessa was the only Harkonnen woman you could reasonably trust. She's done your dirty work many times, but... never THIS. You somewhat understood her concerns, but currently, when you both had to carry Feyd through the Fremen corridors and go unnoticed, you didn't necessarily approve of it.

"I am aware." You reply, looking around. Inessa and you somehow patched up Feyd's wound. Now you had to either drag him to the surface yourself and hope that someone would find him in the chaos of the fight or leave him with some of his soldiers.

You didn't like any of these ideas. But you had to do what you planned if you wanted to regain your freedom, even if it meant that Feyd would hate you for it for infinity.

"Fucking angry. I'm serious, Y/N." Inessa warns you again. You roll your eyes at her, for a Harkonnen she was very fearful.

You remember how her hands were shaking a few minutes ago as you both stitched up your new Baron. It was a makeshift dressing and still required treatment by a doctor, but it was enough to get Feyd to the ship and back to base. During this time, you will take care of everything here. You hope that by the time he wakes up, you will have finished what you set out to do. Otherwise, you don't see your future well.

"Just get him out of here." You grumble, turning into a side corridor, and encounter Harkonnen soldiers fighting the Fremen as they kill the last of them, their eyes shifting to the two of you. You nod at them. Without a word, they approach you and take Feyd from you. Inessa looks at you, worried.

"What if he wakes up?"

"You stuffed him with painkillers, and I ordered him to sleep. He won't get up until you're back on the ship." The woman sighs and shakes her head, looking at you intently as you speak.

"Y/N. You've had some… creatively stupid ideas, but this one is the worst of them all. He won't give up. You know it. So why are you doing this?" She asks, taking you off guard for a moment.

She was right. You could have returned to the ship with them, gone back to the safety of Giedi Prime, and let Feyd fight Paul alone. You could have let go and stopped participating in a war that wasn't yours. But at what cost? You've been obeying someone all your life. Bene Gesserit. Prophecies. Feyd. It's finally time for you to deal the cards. And you will do it. In your and Feyd's best interests. You just hoped that he could… forgive you, or see the reasoning behind your actions.

"For myself. For my freedom. For us. This is the only way to end the matter of Atreides, Fremen, and Arrakis. The only effective way."

"Don't you know it yet? You will never be free. We women will never enjoy men's freedom. There will always be someone to whom you must submit. You can't change your fate."

"Then I'd rather die trying." You say, turning on your heel. You don't look back to see her reaction to your words. You had too little time.

The burning sensation on your hand only reminded you of running out of it. The dagger that Feyd gave you must have also had an effect on Atreides. You don't know how advanced he is in Bene Gesserit teachings, so you had to hurry before he detected the poison in his body. Or, God forbid, neutralise it.

You wipe your sweating forehead with the sleeve of your hand as your body begins to fight the poison slowly accumulating in your body. The antidote rested safely in a small syringe hidden in the handle of the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh. You just had to use it when the time was right.

You hope you will get everything done before you die.

You wander through the corridors without knowing where you are. You just have a feeling in the back of your head about where you should go. Besides, the escaping Harkonnens kind of showed you the way into the sietch.

Your hands are shaking as you slowly approach the main room—the one where the Fremen usually gather for large meetings and in case of an attack. Still, you thank Feyd for forcing you to attend the Harkonenn war meetings. At least now you are more familiar with the location of the Fremen's rooms and methods.

The closer you get to the main hall, the more Fremen women push past you, and you feel a little more confident walking through the crowd with them, confident that they are leading you to your place of harm in case of an attack. Even though the Harkonnen were already retreating from the area, some of them were still fighting the Fremen, who craved the blood on their swords and didn't let them just leave. You can only imagine the Feyd's wrath that they will have to face. His men didn't come... fully armed. Apparently it was supposed to be a quick action—get in and out with you, then launch a full attack and invasion.

You know that once he wakes up and heals up a bit, he's going to paint these halls with blood before he burns them to the ground.

Entering the main room, you immediately take a seat by the wall, watching all the Fremen gathering, carefully looking for Atreides among them. He probably had to make sure they "cleared" the halls from the Harkonnens. It makes you sick to think of them bragging about this as a victory over the Harkonnens. It makes you wish you had a little bomb with you...

"Are you already hiding in the shadows?" You shiver when you hear him whisper in your ear. You haven't learned to recognise his steps yet. They were irregular, different, and hard to detect and remember—as if he were constantly moving through the sand like a feather.

"The quicker I adapt, the better, right?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge. He shakes his head in amusement and watches the Fremen gather with you. It's strange that somehow no one has noticed him yet.

"I'm starting to understand why my cousin kept you so close to him."

"Cousin?" You ask in shock, turning your head towards him so you can look at him. This time he ignores you, not shifting his gaze from the Fremen.

"A little surprise. Maybe we all have a bit of Harkonnen in us after all?" He banters without giving you any of his attention. You snort indignantly, looking at the gathering people again.

"You look tired." You comment, wanting to tease him. You can barely keep yourself from stabbing him with your poisoned dagger a few times. But since he was talking to you so... carelessly, it meant he couldn't detect the poison. Good for you.

"I always am. I will rest when I sit peacefully on the imperial throne."

You would laugh at him if you could. He might easily sit on the emperor's throne, but he wouldn't be able to hold power over all the families for long. Certainly not if you and Feyd had anything to say about it.

Your heart clenches as you remember the moment you stabbed him. You had to. There was no other way to get rid of him long enough for you to take care of everything here. Also, he wouldn't allow you to do that if he knew what you were up to. Besides, if you didn't stab him, Atreides and he would get into a fight. Unfortunately, you weren't that confident in Feyd's abilities. He would be in a state of distraction if your well-being was at stake.

Besides, Atreides' words convinced you of this decision more than anything else.

More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.

If there was anything you could praise about Paul Atreides, it was his cunning. And you were sure that if Atreides was somehow going to defeat Feyd, it would be through intrigue and trickery. And then you weren't ready to save your baron. So you had to use drastic measures to get him out and allow yourself to function fully. You couldn't give Atreides any leverage or advantage over you. You certainly couldn't reveal what a weakness Feyd was to you.

"Hmm… you have to survive first." You answered thoughtfully. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn his head to look at you. His intense, analysing gaze makes you burn as you have to endure his unwanted attention.

"With such a talented Bene Gesserit as MY right hand? I have not the slightest doubt. You proved your loyalty by killing my cousin. I have no doubt that you are capable of great things. However... this sudden change of sides is shocking, I must admit."

"Why? Because I chose something better for myself? It was the same with Feyd. I could either stay among the Bene Gesserit and hope they wouldn't send me to breed with anyone, or I could take matters into my own hands. And I don't like blindly entrusting my fate to someone else, Atreides."

"I see... you look good with independence, Harkonnen witch, but don't forget who you answer to."

"Of course, Fremen messiah." The nickname you give him makes me chuckle. He reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You look carefully at his bandaged hand, which you pierced with a dagger.

You find yourself comparing his hands to Feyd's. Harkonnen's hands were hard, rough, trained from years of using all kinds of weapons. Atrdida's hands were smoother, less stained by effort. Another difference between them was that Feyd would never let anyone bandage the wound you gave him. He would rather wear them proudly until the wound heals itself. You should think it's sick, but years spent by his side have taught you… to appreciate such gestures. Maybe you really had a completely different perception of normality?

Atreides' fingers trace your jaw, caressing it gently. You look into his eyes and immediately see the familiar gleam of audacity in them. He looked at you like you were a prize—a nice thing that he managed to take from his enemy, which he can now put on his bedside table and look at to remember his victory. Under any other circumstances, you would have bitten his fingers off, but unfortunately, you had to behave. But only for a moment longer.

"What do you think you're doing?" An angry, cold female voice echoes behind you. Before you know it, you're being pushed sideways against the wall. A dagger at your throat. You act automatically. You attack a woman, disarm her, and push her against a wall. But before you can put a dagger at her throat yourself, Atreides steps between you.

"What's necessary, Chani. I would suggest you not attack my guest." The woman glares at him, and for a moment, you think she's going to attack him or spit on him. Then her anger shifts to you.

"This Harkonnen witch has killed more of our people than any of them. She should be dead, not taken in as a guest." She growls furiously, giving you a distrustful, mad look. You understand her perfectly. If you were in her place, you would do the same. Only Feyd, unlike Atreides, couldn't stop you from hurting your rival.

"It's not up to you to decide her fate."

Chani gives the two of you one last hateful glare and pushes past Atreides, moving into the crowd, away from the two of you. You look at the woman carefully, analysing her gait and posture. Similar to Atreides. So you found his teacher.

"Your…"

"Concubine." He finishes, thus answering your question. You raise an eyebrow at him in surprise.

"I see."

"Jealous?" This time, you can't help but snort in amusement, giggling at his absurd question.

"I would sonner be jealous of a sandworm than of you. What is bewteen us is just an agreement. Don't forget that, Atreides."

"That's why I like you. Give me a moment. We'll talk later. Don't go anywhere. I will find you."

He puts his hand on your shoulder. You assume he thinks it's a gesture of reassurance, but it's not for you. You anxiously wait for him to move away from you so he can speak to the crowd of Fremen.

You shiver as you briefly make eye contact with Chani, who is standing at the other end of the room. She's still seething with rage. You're not entirely sure why she's so devoted to Atreides, but after thinking about it longer, you realise what her reason is for being so protective over him. You would probably do the same things for Feyd as she did for Paul. However, you would be... more ruthless towards your rival. You wave to the woman, smirking. She looks away from you, focusing her gaze on Atreides.

You study him as well, carefully observing him as he speaks to the Fremen. He is imperious and powerful, but also arrogant and conceited. His overconfidence that he acquired among the Fremen—the belief that he was the chosen one—will lead to his death. You will lead him to death. Otherwise, no one will stand a chance against him. He had one significant thing that could ensure his victory: a huge crowd of people who blindly believed that he would bring them salvation if they obediently followed his every request.

And maybe you would feel sorry for these people and try to help them if your own freedom and future weren't on the line.

You play with the handle of your dagger. You press a small button. A small ampoule with a needle falls into your hand. You hiss, injecting the contents of the ampoule into your arm.

Atreides was right. - You think, listening carefully to the man's speech to the crowd. - More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.

The faint hum of the ship's engine gives Feyd a clear indication of where he is. He opens his eyes and looks around the room. He's in the bedroom of one of Harkonnen's ships. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and looks at his bare chest. He furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise when he sees no wound or bandage—just a tiny, sealed scar in the area where you pierced him with the sword.

"Where are you going?" Your quiet, protesting whisper makes him freeze. After a while, he feels your warm hands on his shoulders as you pull him back into the soft sheets and into your arms. You cuddle up to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your head in the crook of his neck. "Stay. We still have a lot of time before we land on Lankiveil, so you can spend it in bed with your wife. I doubt we'll find a moment of peace for ourselves when our little Na-Baron demands swimming lessons from you and a tour around the new planet, so use this little moment of peace."

Feyd's heart skips a beat when he feels your lips brushing on the skin of his neck and hears you calling yourself his wife. He allows himself to drown in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your gentle touch on his skin. He buries his nose in your hair, shuddering slightly as you place small kisses on his neck and lick his skin, teasing him. However, one thing was still bothering him…

"Little Na-Baron?" He asks, confused, when you lazily stroke his head with your fingers, drawing patterns on its pale skin.

"Our son. I pleased you so well last night that you forgot about our son, or are you just not awake yet, darling?" You ask him teasingly, opening your eyes to look at him for the first time.

Feyd is speechless when he sees the spark of malice in your eyes and the beautiful smile you give him. Your beauty, the calmness with which you lie curled on his chest—as if it were the most normal thing you do every day—and the strange warmth that spreads across his chest because of it make him lose his ability to speak.

You giggle, pulling him closer to you and placing a tender, gentle kiss on his lips. You moan, enjoying the feeling of his plush lips, sucking on his bottom lip as you claim him as yours. Feyd feels himself starting to harden just from the feeling of your lips on his and the teasing movements of your fingers around his nipples.

"I…" He tries to speak, but then he hears the baby's soft whimpering. He tenses up, unaccustomed to any interaction with children.

His gaze goes from the cradle placed in the corner of the room to you in pure panic, as he has no idea what to do with the crying baby. But you don't seem to care about the baby crying as much as he does. You groan in protest and pull away from him, burying your face in the pillow.

"Mhm... go to her, it's your turn." You mumble, not giving him a glance, as you hug the pillow instead of him. He starts to be a little jealous, but that feeling fades away, replaced by panic as the baby's cries intensify.

"Now you're letting me go?" He asks, hoping you'll change your mind and take care of the crying demon in the cradle yourself.

"I simply found a better use for you elsewhere." He huffs, leaning towards you and ruffling your hair. You punch him in the chest and force him out of bed. He rolls his eyes at you and turns hesitantly towards the crib.

He feels his legs shaking and his heart beating with nervousness. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is stressed and nervous by a crying baby in a cradle. He breathes deeply as he stands over the cradle.

His world stops when his eyes meet small irises that are a similar shade of blue to his. And his heart stops when he sees a little copy of you. Your child is undoubtedly a reflection of you. She only has his eyes, but the colour of her skin and hair, the shape of her nose, mouth, and eyes are all you. Feyd's heart pounds as he stares at the small miracle before him. Suddenly, the sounds reach him again. Panicked, he takes the baby gently, making sure not to accidentally hurt her, and in a few quick steps, he is by your side again.

"I… I think it is hungry." He says, reaching out towards you to hand the baby to you as quickly as possible.

"Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, did you just call our daughter it?" You ask angrily, sitting on the bed and looking at him furious. You sigh at his helpless expression and take your daughter from him. "Forgive daddy, Katerina. He doesn't usually behave like this." You mumble sweetly to the baby, trying to calm her down.

Miraculously, because Feyd can't call it anything else, you manage to calm down the baby in your embrace, her little lips pursing in dissatisfaction as she waits for you to feed her. Feyd swears she makes the exact same face you do when you're impatient or angry. His heart melts even more at the image in front of him.

Feyd sits on the edge of the bed, watching in fascination as you feed your baby. This scene seems... unreal to him. He had never experienced anything like this before—the feelings of warmth, safety, and boundless love and devotion that appear in him when he looks at the two of you.

He may have had vague memories of his mother singing bedtime lullabies to him and Rabban, but... he had never felt the way he did with you and your daughter. He had never felt that disarming feeling of home that made him allow himself to become vulnerable for the first time in many years.

He uncertainly reaches towards the child and gently strokes his daughter's head. The colour of her hair is identical to yours. Feyd's lips form involuntarily in a smile when the child reaches her little hand to his fingers, tightening his fist firmly. As she gently moves his hand away from her head, she does not let her grip on his fingers loosen. She was strong for a baby. She certainly had a warrior nature inherited from both of you. Feyd couldn't wait to train her...

He found himself thinking that all he wanted was to curl up in this bed with you and hold you safely in his arms before he would be brutally torn from this beautiful dream or vision.

He sits on the bed, looking at the two of you, when suddenly the bedroom door opens. The thud of small feet on the metal floor echoes around the room, and that's all the warning Feyd gets before the little white-haired boy lunges at him.

"Dad! Dad! We'll be there soon! I can't wait. Uncle Rabban told me that there are huge oceans that can swallow our ships if we land wrong! Is it true?" Asks the child, sitting on his lap and holding him tightly.

Feyd hesitantly wraps his arms around the boy, making sure he doesn't accidentally fall from his lap to the floor. His gaze quickly shifts to you in utter confusion. Rabban as a caring, mischievous uncle? What the hell was that supposed to be?

"Your uncle has a habit of distorting some facts, Feydor. I assure you we'll be fine. And Lankiveil is wonderful, isn't it, honey?" You ask Feyd, resting Katerina on your shoulder and making sure she burps.

"Yes. It is beautiful." He says, unconsciously running a hand through his son's hair as he looks at the three of you, unable to get over the shock and awe.

"I want a hug." Your son demands. You laugh as you pull him closer to you. When you see that Feyd isn't moving to join you all, you grab his hand and gently guide him back to the soft pillows. You lie there curled up, you with Katerina on your chest, Feydor between you and him as you wrap your arms around each other.

His son mutters something to his sister, but Feyd doesn't hear him. All he can do is stare at the three of you in amazement.

"Now sleep. Both of you. I don't want to hear any grumpy complaints about not getting enough sleep, okay, my boys?"

'It only happened once." Feydor mumbles, manoeuvring your and Feyd's hands to hug him tightly. "Besides, Dad was whining worse than me."

"I have no doubt that was the case. Your dad is a terribly fussy and grumpy man." You laugh and lean in to place a quick kiss on Feyd's lips. He strokes your waist, moving closer to you and your son as baby Katerina mumbles something in a language only she knows.

Feyd can only watch tenderly as his little family falls asleep, curled up in each other's arms. And he believes that this is the best possible future that can await him. He doesn't want the throne. He doesn't want to become emperor. He just wants to be able to fall asleep and wake up with you in his arms and your children running around. It's all he dreams about.

The younger Feyd would certainly laugh at him and mock him for such a trivial goal he had set for himself, but what more could he want with the title of baron and you by his side?

He saw perfectly well how the lives of his uncle and emperor turned out and knew the tragic fate of great people in power who decided to devote their entire lives to achieving the greatest possible influence. Feyd didn't want to follow in their footsteps. He wanted you. He realised, with horror, that this was enough for him—the vision or dream he had now was his ideal future.

"I love you." He whispers to your sleeping form before the darkness overwhelms him again.

He wakes up again on the ship, in the same room, and on the same bed. The difference is that your warm body is not pressed against his, and the throbbing pain from his stomach spreads uncomfortably throughout his body.

He groans, sitting on the bed and looking around. His hairless eyebrows wrinkle when he sees one of your spies with him. He automatically grabs the hidden knife and attacks your spy before she notices that he woke up.

"My Lord Baron, I can explain…" The woman says this as he presses the blade against her chest. She stops talking when he cuts off her access to the air by tightening his grip on her neck.

"Where is my right hand?" He growls, sticking to the remains of his control when he refrains from killing her. However, he does not stop himself from making a light cut on your spy's neck. Years of experience have proved that people were more willing to talk after he took some blood from them.

"It really wasn't my idea. She decided so. She knew that you would not let her do what she was planning, so she had to somehow... get rid of you from there, my lord Baron."

"Hm... that sounds like her, but... I would like to hear more about that plan of her. Say something useful and I might even spare your life." Feyd purrs, lazily dragging the blade down her neck to her collarbone, making a small cut.

He preferred not to hurt your toy too much. He didn't know how you would react to the loss of this particular spy. She must have been someone you trusted to entrust him to her.

But that didn't mean that Feyd couldn't land his anger at you on her for leaving him behind and completely unaware of your actions.

"Long ago, the Bene Gesserit had only one reverend mother. Their order was small then, but it was developing well. A certain ritual was invented to ensure that the most powerful of them was in power. It… is about the struggle of life forces. I don't know exactly how it's done, but… lady Y/N said that they both have to die for one of them to survive. She… she knew you wouldn't let her, so she had to make you leave that rat's nest so she could get the job done." A cold shiver runs down Feyd's spine. He needs a moment to compose himself and process your spy's words before he speaks again.

"They both have to die? What do you mean?" He asks, unconsciously tightening his already painful grip on the woman. His hand, the one holding the dagger, trembles slightly as he impatiently stares at her, waiting for an answer.

"I... they have to... they... their hearts stop beating and... the one who is stronger and has more life energy takes over the other's powers and survives."

"So... she may lose and die?" Fed sees your spy swallowing heavily after hearing his question. Thanks to this, he already knows the answer to it.

Strangely, instead of the huge, red fury and bloodlust, everything he feels is fear. Since he arrived at Giedi Prime, he has never felt fear. His uncle made sure that this emotion did not prevent him from reaching the ideal that his uncle demanded from Feyd. But at this point, when the vision of your dead body appears before his eyes, Feyd feels almost paralysed by fear of your life.

"There is... a little possibilty, my lord Baron."

This information is enough for him to make a decision. He stabs your spy in the stomach and allows her to sit on a bed. He reaches the exit in a few steps and opens the door with a bang. A doctor and two soldiers are waiting in the corridor. They look at him with fear in their eyes when he comes out, covered in blood. Before they can speak and probably inform him about his state of health, Fed is already growling at them and giving orders.

"Heal her and bandage her. She was only fulfilling my fiancee's orders." Fed tells the doctor. He is pleased with the surprise he sees on your spy's face. He intends to enjoy informing everyone about his 'engagement' with you. If you could have your plans, he could have some of his too. "Tell the pilot to turn back. And call more ours. We will burn these rats' nests to the ground."

With this promise, he leaves the room, ignoring the pain in his trunk. He must have found you before Fremen left with you for another hideout. He had to be fast and precise if he wanted to have you safe by his side. Maybe he should also ask the doctor for a sedative. Just in case you were stubborn enough to fight him instead of cooperating with him.

"What do you think?" Atreides' question catches you off guard for a moment. You stop watching the Fremen as they prepare to leave the sietch and shift your gaze to Atreides, raising an eyebrow in question. "About them. About my speech there."

"Are you looking for praise?" You mock, taking a closer look at what exactly he's putting into his bundle.

"I'm looking for a second opinion. Objective. Analytical and thorough." He replies, tying the fabric as he waits for your response.

"They will do whatever you want. Isn't that enough for you?" You ask, licking your lips as you choose your words carefully. You can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Paul wipes them away with his hand, not yet aware of the poison that courses through his veins.

You wanted to make sure as much as you could that when the moment came to defeat him and take his life force, there would be no shadow of a doubt that you would emerge victorious from the duel between you. After he went through the Reverend Mothers ceremony, you could try to perform the old ritual of reclaiming power between you two. This hasn't been done for centuries. So you hoped that everything you remembered from the old scrolls was true and that Atreides wouldn't surprise you with anything.

Even if he was a Kwisatz Haderach, you're still going to defeat him. No one and nothing will decide your fate.

"For now, yes. But in the future, I will need their full devotion. After all, I won't be the one to rule them on Arrakis." You raise your eyebrows questioningly, curious as to what his big plan for the future might be.

"Who do you want to entrust them to?"

Silence falls between you as you both look at each other intently. You know he's judging you, wondering how much he can tell you and how much he can hide from you. And you have to be convincing enough to gain even a little bit of trust from him. You know that stabbing Feyd helped you a lot with that. No matter how much it hurt you to do it.

"To be honest, you have the best skills to serve as Governor of Arrakis. The only question is, will you be equally faithful to me?"

"Me? Why?"

"They're already afraid of you. Besides, I saw your power—you're quite a powerful Bene Gesserit. Even if you don't like being called that, you can't cheat or change your destiny, no matter what."

"But... it is not all about power and fate, though is it?" You ask, slowly approaching him. "It is... something more there. Much more than we know." You whisper, looking at him with your most captivating gaze. Feyd would have killed him and tortured you if he saw you flirting with someone else... but luckily he wasn't here. And you had to somehow lower Atreides' guard.

"Indeed." He mumbles back and takes a step towards you. His fingers gently caress your jaw, tracing it until his fingertips brush against your lips. "My mother told me legends about the birth of the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. A woman who could bring thousands to their knees with a wave of her finger, tamed the most bloodthirsty of all beasts. Stilgar... has suspicions that you may be the mother of the one, the one to come. Of course, this conflicts with his perception of me as the chosen one."

He spoke the truth. You were the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. But not because you were born according to their program. You simply had potential, and they had way too much time and no obstacles to train you differently. You were supposed to be their perfect pawn in their game, to provide them with the Kwisatz Haderach. And now… you will kill the one who was supposed to be him.

"Even so, you don't lose power. They still listen to you. More than anyone else." You say, shifting your gaze from his eyes to his lips. He licks them, holding your jaw tightly as he leans slightly towards you.

"I may be my father's son, but I'm not going to make the same mistakes. You know, it is much safer to be feared than loved because... love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails."

"The prince Machiavelli." You say, knowing a quote from the book. You're a little surprised that he would read something like that. He also seems amazed that you know what book he took these words from.

"Indeed. Hmm... Maybe you're not that cruel and bloodthirsty Harkonnen witch people think you are. After all, you're a bit educated." Under any other circumstances, you would have kicked him in... his tender place for this. But now you have to smile sweetly, comforting yourself only with the thought that he will soon die at your hands.

"Believe me, Atreides. I am everything they talk about and more." You mumble before leaning in to connect your lips in a kiss.

Kissing him is… different from kissing Feyd. Less intense, less hot, and less passionate. With him, you don't feel that familiar thrill of excitement you feel every time Feyd literally devours you. This kiss is... too polite. There's not an ounce of desire in him, at least not on your part. You try to be persuasive, though, caressing his lips, but it's not the same plush softness of Feyd's lips. Your mind refuses to be fooled, and you realise with horror how deeply your new Baron has managed to get under your skin when you haven't been able to enjoy the kiss of any other man.

Atreides reaches for your hips, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth. At least he was the only one having fun out of the two of you. You place your hands on his shoulders, slowly pulling your hidden dagger from your sleeve as you let the man kiss you and explore your body with his hands.

You almost sigh with relief when his lips finally leave yours. He moves to kiss your neck, and you decide that this is the moment to start the ritual.

"Stay still. Don't move or speak." You use the voice on him. He stiffens in an instant, his eyes widening slightly as the steel of your poisoned blade presses against his neck. "You were right. It's better to make them afraid of you than to love you."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him grab his hidden knife. But before he can stab you, you place your hands on his temples and recite the old formula, beginning the ritual. You feel yourself slowly starting to lose strength. You both kneel to the floor, life draining from the two of you.

It has begun. - you think as darkness takes over you.

This... is different from what you expected. Nowhere is it written what happens after the connection between the brains of the Bene Gesserit combatants is made. Or what kind of test are the two of you being put through to find out which one of you is stronger. You thought you and Atreides would stand in some imaginary arena and fight until one of you killed the other.

At least you would prefer this to the burning pain that overwhelmed you. You feel like you're immersed in pure, wild fire. All your nerves were burning. You felt your body, but at the same time, you were far from it. And all you could see and hear was blackness, screams, whispers, and songs in a language foreign to you. You feel like you've gone mad. Any pain you've felt doesn't compare to what you're going through right now.

You feel every cell in your body tear apart, and at the same time you remain in a void, unaware of anything except the feeling of pain.

But you endure it.

And suddenly, everything disappears. For a moment, you feel or hear nothing. It's just you and your consciousness as you anxiously await the turn of events.

Then various images begin to appear before your eyes—visions of the future and the past. You see every possible course of events that could occur and every single scenario that may happen. In some visions, both you and Feyd die; in others, it's just him or you; and in others, you both live to old age together. One element is constant. Only one. And you shudder every time you see the familiar figure of your future son ascending the throne as the Emperor and taking care of the entire world, restoring balance and peace.

All of Atreides' power has passed onto you. You knew everything. All possible futures. And they scared you more than you thought they would. And you feel completely different than you thought you would...

After some time and tens of thousands of visions, you return to your body. You begin to feel everything around you—the soft sheets beneath you, the softness of the pillow beneath your head, and the quiet beeping of the machines keeping you alive.

You struggle to open your eyes, hissing as the light hits your eyes. You look around, expecting to find a familiar hospital room, but instead you find yourself in Feyd's chambers. On fucking Giedi Prime.

"Welcome among the living." Feyd's hoarse voice reaches your ears. You turn your head towards him—too quickly, making you feel a little dizzy—but you open your mouth to speak anyway.

You have a terrible coughing fit, and your throat is drier than it has ever been on Arrakis. As you curl up on Feyd's bed, coughing up your lungs, you see him quickly fill a glass of water from the corner of your eye. He sits next to you, pulling you against his chest. You lean your back against him and drink the water greedily.

Feyd gently strokes your back, watching carefully as you drink the water. His gaze is watchful and attentive as he makes sure you drink the last drop from your glass.

When you finish, he takes your glass and walks over to the table to set it down. A cold shiver runs through you as you feel the absence of his presence. You remember how the last time you saw him, he was unconscious and injured. Because of you.

"I was more expecting to be chained to a wall in a prison cell. Or to have your harpies hovering over me and waiting for you to cut me up for them." You say jokingly, teasing him. But he doesn't laugh. You see him tense at your words before he slowly turns to face you.

"I had such an idea in my mind a month ago, when I found you pale as death in the arms of the equally dead Atreides. But I guess enough time has passed for me to get over it… or I just killed enough Fremen and doctors and Bene Gesserit women who couldn't bring you back to calm myself down."

"Month?" You ask, swallowing thickly as you bravely endure his stern glare.

"Mhmm… a month, two weeks and five days to be precise. This whole time, you were either losing your pulse or screaming until your throat was torn. Also, you had a fever that we barely managed to break down, and you were pronounced dead a few times, but who cares, right?" He asks casually, but you can clearly see the rage bubbling inside him despite his obvious concern for you.

"Oh… that's… a while."

"A little bit more than a while." He growls at you, playing with his dagger—the exact same one he gave you. You shudder as you see how much the blade has bent from the blood of the people you used it on.

"What about Atreides?" You ask, confused, wondering if it was really a good idea to bring this up now. Especially since he is playing with a poisoned dagger in his hands. And you used up the antidote to it (apparently) a month ago.

"I have his head. Do you want it on a silver platter, or should I just frame his tongue and hang it on the wall? Maybe right next to yours for being a liar and a traitor?" He asks furiously. But that's not what scares you the most. He's calm. Too calm and composed. And this was often how his anger manifested itself before he killed his victims.

"I... you know perfectly well that I had to do it. If I had done it differently, his... skills would have been lost. And I... now I see everything. I can prevent everything, I can make everything fine. Isn't that a big advantage for you? Have an oracle next to you?" You ask, slightly nervous about what he's going to do next.

"Depends on what this oracle wants to show me and what it doesn't want to show me. But since you know everything and the entire future, you probably know what I will do now." He says and heads towards the exit.

Your heart clenches, and you feel an inexplicable panic as you see him walk away from you. You can't stand how cold he was towards you. You have to do something. You can't just let him go.

"Feyd." You call after him and get out of bed to follow him. When you're on your legs, you lose your balance, and you would have fallen to the floor if Feyd hadn't caught you in his arms.

You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as you breathe quickly. You look at each other for a moment, allowing yourself to immerse yourself in the closeness of the other one.

Feyd places his hand under your knees and picks you up in bridal style. He puts you on his bed again and pulls away to leave. You grab his elbow tightly and hold on, forcing him to stay by your side as you give him a desperate, pleading look for him not to leave you.

Feyd sighs, sitting next to you on the bed. He leans towards you and rests his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, brushing his nose against yours. And you feel really calm for the first time in years.

"You have no idea... I have killed men for smaller things than that. The only reason you're still alive... is because I prefer to destroy you myself. Without the help of any sick rituals or poison. You'll be begging me to kill you, little witch. I'll make you go through the same damn pain you put me through. You'll be begging me to stop making you scream. Oh, and I'll make you scream much louder than becasue of this stupid ancient ritual."

You know he's mad at you. And he has every right to do so. But you can't take his words seriously. Not when you have irrefutable proof of the depth of his feelings for you. As he said, he killed for less. If he wanted to, he would have gotten rid of you or hurt you by now. But he didn't.

"I'll happily scream because of you, my Baron." You reply, placing your hands on his cheeks. You stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs, trying to memorise every little bit of his skin.

"I… I'm serious." He growls at you. He places his hand on your neck and squeezes it gently. You smile and press a kiss just near the corner of his mouth.

"Me too. Do it. Show me how loud you want me to scream for you." You challenge him, placing small kisses on his face.

"Y/N... I should have killed you ages ago, woman. You poisoned my mind, you stabbed me with a sword, you left me alone to deal with the mess you made, you forced me to worry about you while you slowly died in front of me day by day, and I couldn't do any-fucking-thing. So tell me, how can I get past this? Why is it that all I want to do is fuck you until I feel like you're really alive and around me?"

You bite your lip, trying not to moan at his words. You lick your lips and lean towards him, kissing him. He moans into your mouth and tries to pull away from you, but you grab his neck and pull him towards you. Your heart speeds up as your lips caress his as you give all of yourself to him in that kiss.

You gently massage his scalp and lie down on the pillows. You pull him with you as he starts to kiss you back. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his hips. He pulls away from you with a growl and presses his forehead against yours, trying to calm down for your sake. After all, you had just woken up... too bad his cock wasn't as sympathetic to you as you rubbed against him.

"I… my mother was a Harkonnen, you know? Maybe that's why I was so drawn to you. Like calls to like or something like that." You gasp, remembering the memory you saw. Feyd furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise. A shiver runs across his skin, realising the power you've taken from Atreides.

"What else do you know?" He asks, caressing your cheek. You turn your head and press a kiss on the palm of his hand. You surprise him even more, but he's not going to protest when you show him affection. This was very rare in his life, and the fact that this small, voluntary gesture of adoration was coming from you made him even harder.

"That I don't want to lose you for some visions that may or may not happen. That you love me and that these months have been torture for you. That you hated me as much as you needed me to come back to you. That I… only want to think about us. I only care about our future, and I'm willing to watch this world burn if it means I can hold your hand until the end. with no fear that fate will make us hate each other. That I want you to be the only prophecy I care about."

"What about your escape from fate? You never wanted… to be part of this Kwisatz Haderach thing. Will you run away from me when you see that the path we are following leads inevitably to what you were so afraid of?"

His doubts are absolutely right. But that doesn't change the fact that you need him close to you right now. That you need his reassurance that everything will be fine, not his resentment. And you know it was wrong of you to demand from him things like that, but... nothing about your relationship was healthy anyway.

"Fuck it if I can't have us. Fuck it if I can't have you." You say and pull him in for another kiss. He moans in shock into your mouth but quickly responds to you with equal passion. You gasp as he grabs your waist tightly and lifts you up, making you sit on his lap.

"You said you love me." He gasps as he slowly removes your nightgown that he dressed you in himself.

"I did... I also stab you." You say as your hands reach up to start undressing him as well.

"You did. And you killed Atreides." He purrs against your jaw, placing kisses and hickeys there.

"I did." You groan, your hands shaking as you try to get rid of his clothes as quickly as possible.

"You handed me over to our people."

"I did. You are quite heavy." You giggle as he blows on your neck, tickling you, before sinking his teeth into it. You dig your fingers into his back, pulling him close to you.

"Why did you do this?" He asks, pulling away from you to look at you carefully, gauging your reaction, making sure you were always on his side, and doing everything for your mutual good. For his good.

"Because I decide about my fate. Not Bene Gesserit, not any Atreides, not you or anyone. Only me. And I want you. And love you. And need you. But only as my equal... and if you will have me."

"I won't let you go anymore." He warns, laying you down on the bed and towering over you.

"I will never want to leave." You promise, looking into his icy blue eyes and stroking the scar on his lower stomach—from the wound you gave him.

"Good."

"Good."

"Say it again."

"Good?" You ask teasingly, pressing kisses to his neck and giving him a few hickeys, marking him as yours with more than just his scars.

"No. You know what."

"I love you."

"About damn time." He growls, devouring your mouth. You moan as he bites into your lower lip. You both don't hold back anymore. Feyd marks you like a map, as if he wanted to memorise all the sensitive places that made you moan and writhe in pleasure, pressing into his muscled body.

You forget for a moment the whole world, everything you've done for him, everything you both should have discussed—all you can think about is Feyd. About wanting to be closer to him, about needing him as desperately as he needs you. So how can Feyd resist you when you're so willing to take him in? When he had dreamed of this moment for years? When can he finally satisfy his desire for your body?

He trails his kisses lower, gently taking your nipple into his mouth and cupping your other breast, massaging it. You moan, scratching his scalp, throwing your head back against the pillows, and grinding your hips against his.

You're both starting to get annoyed by the underwear that's preventing you from clinging to each other the way you want. Feyd rips your panties off of you, wasting no time in pushing his fingers into you. You whine, thrashing around on the bed, wanting more and yet too sensitive for anything else. You open your eyes and gasp at the sight of his full, erect length rubbing against your thigh. Feyd pinches your nipple, making you moan and shifting your gaze to him.

"Eyes on me, little witch."

"But... ach!" You moan as his fingers speed up inside you, tears forming in your eyes as your hips move in time with the rhythm of his fingers as you chase your orgasm.

"Listen to your Baron. Eyes on me." He pauses to slap your pussy. You moan, biting your lower lip. "And don't hold back any sounds. Or I'll punish you like I should have since you woke up."

It's very hard to keep your eyes open for him. Especially when his fingers massage your clit so perfectly and fill you up. You reach your hand to his hard cock on your thigh and rub it gently.

He growls, kissing you hard and punishingly, as you try to speed things up and make him lunge at you in a frenzy of lust, when he wants to tease your pussy and punish you accordingly first.

For a month he waited by your bedside, bravely holding you through the stages of your screams and high fevers, making sure you were alive, breathing, and your heart was beating in a rhythm he had memorized. He deserves to have some fun with you...

"Feyd... please..." Your moans, the kisses you place on his jaw, and the way your fingers caress the scar on his muscled stomach—the one you gave him yourself—make him lose his restraint, which was already frail and weak. At least that's how he explains his desire to immediately fulfill your wish.

His arms wrap around you tightly as he gently pushes into you, making sure his entire alabaster length will fit inside you. He stops, cursing in his tongue and resting his forehead against yours as he gives you a moment to adjust to his length. Finally. He finally feels you all around him. And you're tighter than he dreamed.

"Damn… you little witch…"

"I know..." You gasp, wrapping your arms around him, and kiss him hungrily, basking in the feeling of fullness as his length perfectly fills the void inside you. It's warm. It's nice to feel him so close to you. It's nice to be with him. You moan as he starts to move slowly, testing how far he can go.

Feyd growls, picking up his pace when you don't protest, his hips bucking wildly against yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.

He grips one of your hips and cups your cheek with the other, making sure your eyes are focused on him. He kisses away the tears streaming down your cheek, licking them off your face. He kisses you fervently and hungrily, catching every moan and grunt you make as his hips grind against yours. A wet sound echoes through the room, occasionally interrupted by a moan from either of you as you finally come together in the most primal, animalistic way, demanding each other.

"Mine. Only mine." Feyd growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful Baroness. Fuck. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around his chambers.

"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. I will never let you escape again, I will never again let you out of my sight for more than a second, I will never again let you fight against the world and fate alone. We are the two sides of the same coin... WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.

You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss.

And for that moment you knew what cosmic love really meant. And you would fight with anyone to be able to experience it whenever you wanted.

"I love you." Feyd whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple and tightening his grip around you.

He slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you, still holding you in the iron grip of his arms. You lazily snuggle into him and trace the scar you gave him with the fingertip of your finger. Guilt grows within you, and for a moment, you think that he purposely allowed this scar to remind you of what you did.

You decide to talk to him about everything tomorrow. It was just the two of you for now, and you were going to enjoy this as long as you could. You place your head into the crook of his neck and take his hand in yours. You tangle his other hand in your hair and snuggle into him, sighing as you feel his touch, warmth, and scent around you.

You both fall asleep cuddled together. And for a moment, you allow yourself to be in bliss of his touch and closeness, not worrying about any politics or issues that you should discuss instead of... giving in to something you have wanted for a long time.

From now on, you decide your fate.

Only you and Feyd.

That's why you make sure that your first child will be a daughter.

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren

[croquis-el]

Mitsurugi's chess set as a metaphor for his relationship with Naruhodō

We all know about the famous blue and red chess set that was custom-made for Mitsurugi.

And we all know about the single blue pawn surrounded by knights with swords. In the original, this comparison is more poetic than in the adaptation (the knights hold tsurugi 剣 - like in Mitsurugi's family name 御剣, and the pawn 歩 (ho) is blue - like in Naruhodō's family name 成歩堂)

剣 (ken, tsurugi) - doubled-edged sword

歩 (fu, ho) - pawn (chess), step, infantry

“naito” wa “ken/tsurugi o motta kishi”

“pōn” wa “hohei” desu.

"Knight" is "knight with sword (tsurugi)"

"Pawn" is "foot soldier/infantry".

akai “tsurugi” ga, aoi “ho” o oitsumete iru

The red "sword" is chasing the blue "step"...

In the original, there is no pawn with spikes. This was made up to adapt the play on words. Unsurprisingly, Naruhodō says that this could be just his imagination, and he doesn't see anything special in it.

(ki no seida yo na, kitto)

(I'm sure it's just my imagination)

The only time we see a chess set in the trilogy is in Case 1-5 (Rise from the Ashes) - February 2017

The next time we get a chance to look at Mitsurugi's office is in Investigations, and this is already March 2019.

What happened in the time period from February 2017 to March 2019, unsurprisingly, affected Mitsurugi and his personal belongings. But what is this! The chess set with blue and red pieces disappears from the office, and white and red pieces take its place.

Where did that set go?

It became a travel set.

And it can be seen next to Mitsurugi's passenger seat in the case 1-2 (Turnabout Airlines). At the same time, Mitsurugi continues to convince us and those around him that there is nothing strange about the fact that there are too many knights and one pawn on the chessboard. It is difficult to refuse competition between the attorney and the prosecutor. We'll take your word for it, buddy.

Years later, in 2027, when we are shown the office of the head of the prosecutor's office Mitsurugi, we can see his chessboard again. Now there are no recreated chess puzzles on it. Only carefully placed pieces of red and white.

And now about how chess literally reflects the relationship between these two.

While Mitsurugi at first sees Naruhodō as an opponent, as a rival, and tries to predict his thoughts and actions using tactics like in chess, Naruhodō himself doesn't believe that they're on different sides of the barricades. Therefore, he doesn't react in any way to the alleged "hints" about their rivalry. For him, he is an ally, not an opposing side.

Then Mitsurugi changes his mind about the role of the prosecutor in the trial, and realizes that it is necessary to cooperate with other lawyers in order to achieve the truth. Since then, the blue and red set probably disappears from the office, from the eyes of others. There is no urgent need for it.

And then harmony comes. Carefully placed figures. No crazy number of knights with tsurugi. Simple classics. Childhood rivalry is forgotten, now the person whose thoughts you had to predict, calculate options to always be one step ahead - a dear and reliable friend, whom you understand at a half-word, for whose sake you will pull all strings, put a reliable shoulder to support when he needs it. If Naruhodō initially doesn't see Mitsurugi as his rival (and this is not because of bragging or pride), then he comes to the same understanding a little later, completely rethinking his attitude towards the people around him.

P.S.

Here I am only touching on the strong and dear friendly relations between them, please do not invent anything beyond what is written. (even though I myself love narumitsu tenderly).

English is not my first language, and I use dictionaries for Japanese words - so feel free to point out my mistakes.

[rwrbficrecs]

Our September & October recs ❤️

make lemonade by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@dot524: This author consistently posts stellar works but I often finish wanting more of that world. This one is nice and long — yay! I loved this meet-cute where Alex’s daughter Claudia has a lemonade stand and Henry is one of their favorite customers. This was a bit of an exploration of divorced dad (single dad) Alex. His mixed feelings about coparenting and starting a new relationship were nicely developed. Such a great warm fuzzy fic, with a nice bit of angst and character development mixed in to make things interesting. And I loved the kid character, Claudia!

falling in love (in the cruelest way) by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This road trip AU is so fun, partly because of how soft our favorite boys are, but also just because of Alex's bright personality throughout the whole thing, and the faith and hope that's a critical part of the book!

we should get married by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I had heard people talking about this green card marriage AU for months, and the hype was definitely warranted (as with all of this author's writing)! Little details from the book used in a new way, instant attraction, both of them being exactly what the other needs, exploration of other relationship dynamics within the book... this fic has so much depth in its 4 chapters, and it's fantastic!

Cleansing Downpour by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)

@na-dineee: It often seems like things between June and Nora were always easy, like they were just meant to be. But what if it wasn't that simple? Feeling stuck in life, June is caught between writing a book she’s starting to hate, and navigating her growing feelings for her best friend. A beautifully written story of change, friendship and love, and figuring out who you really are.

runaway now and forever more by tonystarked (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Aged Alex and Henry, a US Senator and an English Prince, have been pining for each other for what feels like forever. Could tonight, at a glamorous charity event, finally be the night they open up to one another? This beautifully heart-wrenching and incredibly poetic fic has been stuck in my head ever since I read it!

The Candy Tax by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely adorable! It's the perfect nostalgia trip for anyone who went trick or treating, and it incorporates some of the pop culture references from the book in the best ways that just add to what make this fic so cute!

Heart enough by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: What if Henry's the one who has to travel for the apology tour and instead of celebrating New Year's, they have a Halloween party? This fic adds so many layers and soft moments to the original, but still includes the heart and references we all love!

Halloween at Kensington by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Arthur POV of Halloween when his kids are little I didn't know I needed until I read it- this is so adorable, and Henry and Phillip's characterization in it is perfect!

I was cold as a stone (but I found what I'm lookin' for) by @miharaikko (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Author Henry has retreated to a small, secluded cabin in the mountains, hoping it will spark some writing inspiration. That's where he meets Alex, the owner of the cabin... The mountain and campfire vibes are absolutely wonderful. It's such a fluffy and heartfelt one-shot – just as recommendable as the other fics in the Flufftober: A Red Umbrella Collection.

Red, White and Royal Switcheroo by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This body swap AU left me wondering how everything would have been different in the rest of the story- it's that good! It has the heart and content of the original, plus moments that are brand new- and watching the boys pretend to be each other is fantastic!

Oblivion by @milowren29 (book-verse)

@dot524: This story has been on my reading list for a while and wow, did it live up to expectations! Alex and Henry are kidnapped during their visit to the hospital, and they trauma-bond during their experience. But what will happen afterward? How will this change things between them? The action, angst, and longing in here is spot-on and the storytelling is so well-done.

Sounds of Someday by dazedandconfused (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: USA 1972, three weeks on a road trip on the 'road to nowhere' heading toward Texas: writer Henry and farm boy Alex. This fic is so layered and full of hurt and emotions. The ending completely knocked the wind out of me. An absolute masterpiece, please everyone, read it – it's phenomenally good in terms of language, storytelling, and capturing the spirit of the time !!

blizzards and broken boundaries by @gayhoediaz (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Age gap – I love this trope with Henry and Alex. Here, it’s a 20+ year difference: Alex is a student, Henry his professor. Alex makes the move, Henry is very amenable. The alternating POV is so cleverly done, the tags say PWP, but I definitely felt all the feelings. Absolutely delicious!

These violent delights by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Henry as a vampire hunter in this fic is such an intriguing concept and the backstory of it and the fic's conflict is so well done!

With magic soakin' my spine, can you read my mind? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Pining and magic and revelations abound in this fic that's written so well, it gave me chills. This fic is definitely a must-read if you want a canon divergent fic that has just a hint of magic!

to belong to a family (even beyond this world) by @read-and-write- (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The Mexican part of Alex's heritage absolutely shines through in this- and this is definitely a fic you want to read if you want Día de los Muertos fic and all the Arthur feels! I also love all the neurodiversity in this fic!

A Beautiful Reality by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Priest!Henry is back. The second part of The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To Is When I'm Alone With You is out!! And – surprise: He’s not a priest anymore. But it’s not that easy to shake off those deeply rooted beliefs and Catholic guilt. Luckily, Alex is so patient and totally in love.

The Brightest Star by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@dot524: Single dad Alex meets children’s book author Henry, and they connect immediately. The obstacle in this story is Alex’s sense of duty to his daughter, Bia. She’s quick and creative, and she’s brimming with opinions. I’m a bit picky about OC’s and kids in fics, but this one was so well done. It’s full of fun dialogue and well-realized feelings and angst. Definitely check it out!

A Love That Haunts the Land by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Once again, this author has blended Mexican culture and RWRB in a way that's so authentic- plus there's magic! This is one you won't want to miss!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[diamonddaze01]

golden promises

pairing: xu minghao x reader | wc: 5.6k genre: angst angst angst! failed soulmates au | warnings: none a/n: this one goes out to my 8stars @ylangelegy & @haologram // thank you to @gotta-winwin and @haologram for the beta i adore you both! // my second attempt at trying to make my writing more poetic lol recommended listening 🎧:  raanjhan - parampara tandon | bin tere - vishal-shekar | samjho na - aditya rikhari | khairiyat - arijit singh | ek tarfa - darshan rawal | judaiyaan - darshan rawal & shreya ghoshal | dill tutda - jassie gill | jhol - maanu & annural khalid | humnava mere - jubin nautiyal  the angst olympics are live! check out all the amazing authors <3 join my taglist here

summary: And so it began. Minghao, who believed in fate, and you, who didn’t.

The first time Xu Minghao saw you, his timer hit zero.

There are moments in life that split time into before and after. Moments that settle deep in your bones, rewriting everything you thought you knew. Moments where the air thickens, where the world rearranges itself, where your heart stops—not in fear, but in recognition.

He’d heard stories about this. How the second you meet your soulmate, the universe exhales, and suddenly, everything makes sense. How the colors brighten, how your name must already be written somewhere inside him, waiting for his mouth to speak it into existence.

And for him, it did.

The summer air was heavy with the scent of ripe mangoes and jasmine, the marketplace humming with the kind of easy chaos that made everything feel alive. He wasn’t looking for anything—just wandering, just passing through, just existing—until he saw you.

You were standing in front of a small stall, the kind draped in delicate trinkets and woven bracelets, spinning one between your fingers. Sunlight poured over you like melted gold, catching in your hair, glinting off the curve of your smile.

Something cracked open inside him.

Dhadkan tak tainu rasta diya, sajna

His heart had shown him the way to you.

Minghao looked down at his wrist.

Zero.

The numbers, the ones he had watched his whole life, had disappeared. The silent countdown, the seconds that had ticked through his childhood and whispered promises into his dreams, were gone.

No fireworks. No divine chorus. Just this—his heart a steady, unshaken certainty.

It’s you.

His feet moved before he could think, drawn forward by something older than reason, stronger than doubt. He was going to say something—what, he didn’t know. Maybe your name, as if he had known it all along. Maybe something simple, something mundane, just to hear the sound of your voice.

But then, his gaze flickered to your wrist.

And there it was.

Numbers. Still ticking.

His breath left him all at once.

It was as if the earth had shifted beneath him, tilting the universe off its axis. The relief, the elation, the quiet wonder—shattered. His fate was sealed, but yours was still unraveling.

The wind tangled in your hair as you laughed at something your friend said, a sound so light it felt like it could lift off the ground and drift toward the sky. You didn’t notice him. You didn’t feel what he felt.

Minghao had spent his whole life waiting for this moment. But now that it had arrived, it didn’t belong to him the way he thought it would.

He could have called out to you. Could have walked forward, told you his name, told you that he knew. That he knew.

But fate had played its hand, and it was not kind.

So he stayed where he was, watching as you tied the bracelet around your wrist, as you moved through the market, as you disappeared into the crowd.

His heart, once so certain, now a quiet war between longing and restraint.

He had found you.

But you hadn’t found him.

The second time Xu Minghao saw you, you were at an art gallery. 

It was a quiet evening, the kind where the world outside felt muffled, softened by the hush of a setting sun. The gallery was nearly empty, save for a few patrons lost in the language of brushstrokes and shadowed frames. The air smelled of old paper and fresh paint, of something delicate and fleeting, like a memory slipping through fingertips.

And there you were.

Standing in front of a canvas, your head tilted ever so slightly, eyes tracing each careful stroke. It was an abstract piece—colors bleeding into each other, shapes unraveling into something intangible. The kind of painting that felt like a secret, like it was whispering something just out of reach.

Minghao should have walked away. Should have kept his distance, let you exist in that moment without the weight of his knowing.

But he had spent days—weeks—thinking about you.

So he found himself saying, “Do you think the artist believed in soulmates?”

You turned at the sound of his voice, eyes catching his. Startled at first, but then—recognition flickered, not of him, but of something in his words, something worth answering.

“I doubt it,” you said, lips curving into a thoughtful smile. “Do you?”

Minghao hesitated. He could have lied, could have said something lighthearted, something easy. But standing here, in the quiet weight of oil and canvas, in the space between past and present, the truth pressed against his ribs like a caged bird.

“I think… sometimes you don’t get a choice.”

You laughed, soft and warm, like a silk ribbon unraveling in the wind. The kind of laugh that made things feel lighter, even when they weren’t.

“That’s tragic,” you murmured. “I’d rather choose.”

Minghao swallowed.

Tu taan saare dil 'te hi kabza karke beh gaya

You had already taken over his heart, even if you didn’t know it.

He studied you then—the way your fingers hovered just slightly in front of you, as if reaching for the meaning behind the painting. The way your eyes held galaxies, waiting to be charted. He wanted to memorize this moment, carve it into his bones before time stole it away.

He thought about telling you. About turning his wrist to show you the truth written on his skin. About how his world had stopped the moment he saw you, how the universe had already chosen for him.

But then your wrist shifted, the timer still ticking down. Still leading you to someone else.

The universe may have chosen for him, but for you, fate was still unwritten.

So he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he turned back to the painting, letting silence stretch between you like an unfinished story. And maybe that’s all he would ever be to you—a passing presence, a stranger in an art gallery, someone whose name you might never think to ask.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said finally, voice quiet. “Maybe choice is better.”

You smiled again, the kind that lingered even after you turned away, moving to the next painting.

Minghao stayed behind, staring at the colors on the canvas.

Wondering if love, when unreturned, still counted as love at all.

It should have ended there. A fleeting moment, a brush of time that barely left a mark. 

He told himself it would. That he would walk away, that he would let fate take its course, even if it didn’t bend in his favor.

But you didn’t let him.

You let him in.

It started small. A conversation stretched across an evening, then another. Then a name exchanged at a café a week later when he ran into you by accident—except it didn’t feel like an accident at all.

"Xu Minghao," he said.

You repeated it, testing the syllables on your tongue, making them something softer. Something dangerous.

After that, you existed in his life like a watercolor painting—gradual, spreading into all the empty spaces, impossible to contain.

It was raining the first time you talked about soulmates again.

You were both in a café, your fingers wrapped around a warm cup, the city humming outside in blurred headlights and water-streaked pavement. Minghao watched you, the way you always seemed lost in your own world before pulling him into it.

“The thing about soulmates,” you mused, tracing a finger along the rim of your cup, “is that they take the romance out of it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

You nodded, thoughtful. “It’s too easy. Too neat. Love should be a choice, don’t you think?”

Minghao hesitated. His wrist had already made its choice. But you hadn’t.

“So you don’t believe in soulmates,” he murmured.

You exhaled a quiet laugh. “No. I think it’s just another story we tell ourselves. Something to make the world feel a little less lonely.”

He wanted to tell you, then. Wanted to turn his wrist over on the table, let you see the blank space where the numbers had disappeared, let you understand what had already been decided for him.

But you had a timer still ticking down, still leading you somewhere else.

So he just smiled, soft and unreadable. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Like—what if it’s all just biology? A trick of the mind? The idea that we’re all predestined for one person seems… sad.” The way you said it made Minghao’s heart clench in his chest.

Minghao had watched you carefully, fingers tightening around his cup. “Sad?”

“Well, yeah.” You glanced out the window, watching the rain smear the city into soft, indistinct colors. “It means you could love someone with everything you have, and if they aren’t ‘the one,’ it doesn’t count.”

But it does count, he had wanted to say. It counts for the one who loves, even if it’s not returned.

“I don’t know,” he had murmured instead, watching the way the light framed your face. “Some people don’t get a choice.”

You had hummed, considering. “I’d still rather choose.”

And Minghao—Minghao, whose timer had hit zero the moment he saw you—wanted, for the first time, to believe in choice too.

It didn’t stop at coffee.

You became a presence in his life, slipping in like a poem written in margins, like a song hummed under breath.

It was the bookstore, where you ran your fingers along spines like they held secrets meant only for you. Minghao had asked what you were looking for, and you had grinned, mischievous.

“Something tragic,” you had said. “Something that’ll ruin my week.”

Minghao had laughed, shaking his head. “Why do you want to be ruined?”

You had met his gaze, something unreadable in your eyes. “Because at least then I’d know it meant something.”

It was the late-night walks, where the world shrank to just the two of you, city lights flickering like fireflies in the distance. You had spoken about dreams, about places you wanted to see, about how the concept of forever never sat right with you.

“Nothing lasts,” you had said, kicking a stray pebble down the sidewalk.

Minghao had tilted his head toward the sky. “Maybe not everything is supposed to.”

You had smiled at that, a small, quiet thing. “See? Now that’s tragic.”

It was the mornings where you sat across from each other, the clink of ceramic cups filling the space between easy silences. It was the stolen moments where he caught you laughing at nothing, where you tilted your head against his shoulder when you were tired, where you let him trace shapes into your palm absentmindedly as you talked about anything and everything.

The next time, it was late at night, both of you lying on a rooftop under a sky thick with stars. The city pulsed below, neon lights flickering like distant fireflies. You had dragged him up here, claiming it was the best place to think.

And Minghao would follow you anywhere.

You turned your head to look at him. “You ever think about what you’d do if your timer hit zero at the wrong moment?”

Minghao stared up at the sky, at the endless black, at the constellations that had burned for thousands of years and still hadn’t figured out how to stay together.

“It’s not supposed to be wrong,” he said eventually.

You laughed, but it was a quiet, almost sad sound. “But what if it is?”

He turned to look at you, to the slight crease between your brows, to the weight behind your question.

He thought about telling you. About the way his timer had gone silent the moment he saw you, how his world had stilled in a way he hadn’t even realized was possible.

But then you rolled onto your side, elbow propped up, fingers tracing absent patterns against the rooftop.

“Love should be terrifying,” you murmured. “It should be something you have to fight for, something that could break you.” You glanced at him then, eyes gleaming in the dark. “Wouldn’t that be better than some numbers on a wrist?”

Minghao swallowed. “Maybe.”

You smiled, satisfied, and turned back to the sky.

Minghao turned back too.

And said nothing.

It was like this for months.

Conversations that drifted too close to the truth. Fingers brushing and lingering before pulling away. The quiet intimacy of something unspoken, something fragile, something too good to last.

Minghao knew he was losing you before you were even his to lose.

Because your timer kept ticking.

Because fate had not chosen him for you, even though it had chosen you for him.

Because love, when unreturned, still felt like love—but it also felt like drowning.

And someday soon, the clock would run out.

You said you didn’t believe in soulmates.

You said it with certainty, with fire in your eyes, with conviction carved into every syllable.

“That timer is just a cruel game the universe plays,” you told him once, voice steady, fingers curled around your own wrist like you wanted to crush the numbers beneath your grip. "Love isn’t about some stupid numbers on your skin. It’s about choosing someone."

And then you had looked at him—really looked at him—like he was something inevitable. Something certain.

"I choose you, Minghao."

Ab na Heer kade dil da yaqeen kar paayegi

How could he not believe in you when you said it like that?

Minghao had spent his whole life believing in fate.

Believing in the weight of the numbers, in the invisible thread that wove two people together across time and space. His timer had been a promise. A quiet, patient thing ticking down with purpose, with certainty.

Fate had called your name, but it had not whispered his.

And yet, here you were—standing in front of him, eyes searching, hands trembling slightly at your sides, offering him everything despite the ticking clock on your wrist. Despite the fact that your soulmate was still out there, waiting.

Minghao should have walked away. Should have been noble. Should have let you go before you could regret this, before you could realize that love, without fate behind it, could still crumble.

But he had spent months loving you in silence. He had spent months letting you fill the spaces between his ribs, settling into his bones like a song he could never forget.

So he stepped closer.

“You can’t take it back,” he murmured, barely above a whisper.

You frowned. “What?”

“If you choose me, you can’t take it back. Not when your timer runs out, not when—” his voice broke, but he forced himself to continue—“not when you meet them.”

Something in your expression shifted. The way the light flickered across your face, the way your breath hitched like you suddenly realized what you were doing.

But then your fingers reached for his, slow, deliberate.

“I don’t care,” you said, voice shaking but firm. “I don’t care about a timer, or some stranger I haven’t met. I care about you, Minghao. And I choose you.”

It was everything he had ever wanted.

It was everything he had feared.

Because love was never just a choice. Love was cruel. Love was fate and timing and inevitability. Love was a thief, and it stole from him the moment your words settled between them like a vow.

Because one day your timer would run out.

And when it did—when you met the person you were supposed to belong to—Minghao knew you would leave.

Not because you wanted to. But because some things were stronger than words. Because fate always won in the end.

So he exhaled shakily, pressed his forehead against yours, and closed his eyes.

“Okay,” he whispered.

If this was all he would ever have of you, then he would take it.

Even if it destroyed him.

For a year, Xu Minghao believed he had conned fate. 

He convinced himself that love could exist outside of destiny. That the universe had miscalculated, that your hand in his was proof that numbers meant nothing.

And for a year, you were his.

Judi hai rahein saari tujhse meri

Every road, every path, every turn—somehow, they all led back to you.

It was in the mornings when he woke up to find you tangled in the sheets, your breathing slow, the weight of your arm draped over his chest like a quiet claim. Minghao never moved right away. He just lay there, memorizing the shape of you against him, the way the early light painted soft gold across your skin.

It was in the afternoons, where laughter spilled between you like an unspoken promise. The two of you existed in a world of inside jokes, of coffee shop debates over which pastry was superior, of whispered conversations in libraries where you barely managed to keep your voices down. You stole fries off his plate, he stole sips of your drink, and every moment felt like something infinite.

It was in the nights, when time folded in on itself, and there was only you. Only your voice, a quiet murmur against his shoulder. Only your hands, threading through his, pulling him deeper into a love he shouldn’t have had.

A love that shouldn’t have lasted.

Because your timer was still ticking.

Some nights, when the world was too quiet, he would trace patterns over your wrist with featherlight fingers, his touch lingering just long enough to make you ache. You would see it then—that fleeting sadness, the way his eyes darkened as if trying to memorize the numbers before they could betray him. Before they could betray both of you.

And so you would do the only thing you knew how to. You would curl yourself around him, press your lips to the hinge of his jaw, to the soft curve beneath his ear. You would kiss him until he forgot about it, until he forgot about everything but the way your body molded against his, the way your hands tangled in his hair, the way you whispered his name like he was the only future you could ever want, like he was something worth staying for.

So he loved you recklessly, desperately, like a man who had borrowed time and dared to believe it was his own.

For a while, it worked.

For a while, he let himself believe that your love was louder than fate.

And then—

Then your timer hit zero.

The day your timer hit zero, Minghao was at your apartment, waiting. The scent of your favorite takeout filled the space, boxes neatly stacked on the counter. He had set the table the way you liked—your favorite glass, extra sauce on the side, a pair of chopsticks resting beside his own. A quiet offering of comfort, a piece of him saying I know today was hard, but I am here.

When he heard the sound of your keys turning in the lock, he turned toward the door, ready to greet you with warmth, with open arms.

But the moment you stepped inside, something was different.

Your smile faltered, just barely. Your breath caught, almost imperceptibly. Your fingers hovered at your wrist, pressing into the skin as if trying to hold something in place, as if trying to stop time from moving forward.

Minghao had always been good at reading between the lines. He didn’t need to ask.

“It happened, didn’t it?”

His voice was too calm. Too steady. A whisper against the quiet, like speaking too loudly would make the walls collapse around you both.

You swallowed, your throat tight. “At the café,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

The words cut through the air, sharp and irreversible. Minghao exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the untouched meal he had laid out for you, as if the smallest details of your shared life could somehow keep you tethered to him. As if love could be measured in cups of jasmine tea and takeout containers.

“Do you love them?”

The question came quietly, but it landed like a blow. You flinched, your fingers curling into fists. “Minghao, I love you.”

He smiled, soft and broken. A tragedy dressed as tenderness. “But you met them.”

Silence.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to. The truth sat between you, thick and heavy, an inevitable thing. Minghao felt his world shift, splintering like glass beneath too much weight.

He had always known this was coming.

He had spent a year looking at your wrist in the dead of night, feeling the pulse beneath his fingertips like a countdown to an ending he could not stop. He had spent a year memorizing you, loving you, hoping—God, hoping—that maybe you would never reach zero. That maybe love could defy mathematics.

That maybe, just maybe, you would choose him.

But here you were. And here he was. And fate had finally caught up.

You took a step toward him, hesitant. “Minghao, please—”

“Don’t,” he said, so gently it hurt.

Because he had promised himself he wouldn’t make this harder for you. Because he had sworn he would let you go with grace, no matter how much it tore him apart.

He forced a breath, blinking up at the ceiling, willing his voice to stay steady. “Did it feel like the universe sighing in relief?”

You let out a shaky breath. “Minghao—”

“It’s okay.” His hands clenched at his sides before slowly, deliberately, he let them go. “It’s okay,” he repeated, even though nothing about this was okay.

Because he had always known he was just borrowing time.

And then—

Your hand reached for his.

Not out of hesitation, not out of guilt, but with purpose. With conviction. And when he finally looked at you, your eyes were burning. Steady. Unwavering.

“No,” you said, and your voice was stronger than it had ever been. “It didn’t feel like relief. It felt like the end of the world.”

Minghao’s breath hitched.

“I met them,” you continued, stepping closer, pressing your palm against his chest, where his heart was unraveling. “And I felt it, that shift, that pull. But it wasn’t you.” Your voice wavered, but you held on, gripping his hands like a lifeline. “It wasn’t the person who knows how I take my coffee. It wasn’t the person who stays up with me on my worst nights, who makes me laugh when I think I’ve forgotten how.”

His fingers curled around yours, tentative, as if he was afraid to believe it.

You swallowed hard. “I know what fate says. I know what the universe wants. But I—” You exhaled shakily, eyes searching his, pleading for him to understand. To believe you. “I chose you, Minghao.” Your voice broke, but you kept going. “I choose you.”

You brought his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, to the hands that had held you through every storm. “And I will keep choosing you.”

Minghao didn’t realize he was crying until you reached up, brushing the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs. His chest ached, torn between disbelief and the quiet, unbearable hope blooming in its place.

For a year, he had believed he was running on borrowed time.

He so desperately wanted to believe that time had never mattered at all.

Tu bhi kya yaad rakhega

Minghao wished he could forget. Wished he could peel every memory of you from his skin, let them slip through his fingers like grains of sand, like something never meant to be held onto in the first place.

But he knew he wouldn’t.

He would remember.

He would remember the way your laughter curled into the spaces between his ribs, how your touch had been an anchor, how every late-night conversation had felt like stitching his soul to yours.

You had carved yourself into him, written your name into the marrow of his bones, and there was no undoing it. No rewinding, no erasing. Only this—only the ruin you left behind.

You were crying. He wished he could hate you for it, wished he could feel something other than this unbearable ache, but all he wanted was to hold you, to wipe your tears away, to tell you that it was okay even when it wasn’t.

You tried to explain. You needed him to understand.

“It doesn’t change anything,” you whispered, voice trembling, breaking over the weight of the moment. “Meeting them—it doesn’t make my love for you any less real. It’s just… it’s different. It’s not stronger. It’s not—” Your breath hitched. “It’s not fair.”

It wasn’t. It never had been.

Tears streaked down your cheeks, and you gripped his hands like you were afraid he would slip away, like you could hold him here, with you, if you just held on tight enough. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Minghao exhaled, slow, steady. He looked at you—really looked at you. The person he had loved in a way that defied reason, the person who had turned his life into something softer, something worth waking up to.

And yet, fate had taken that love and cracked it in half.

Judi hain raahein saari tujhse meri

"My paths are tied to yours."

You said it like it was a promise. But it felt like a wound.

Minghao pulled his hands from yours, gently, like he was untying a knot that had held for too long. Like if he did it softly enough, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

“You say that,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “but your wrist says otherwise.”

Your face crumpled, and something inside him shattered.

Because love wasn’t supposed to be a war against destiny. Because love wasn’t supposed to be a choice between what you wanted and what the universe had written for you.

But here you were. And here he was. And the universe was still waiting.

You left anyway.

Not right away. At first, you fought it. You fought it because you loved him, because you chose him—or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. You tried to pretend, tried to act as though nothing had shifted beneath the surface.

But Minghao was always watching, always noticing, even in the moments you thought you’d hidden the truth. He saw the quiet distance between your fingertips when you reached for him. He saw the way your eyes would glaze over, distant and lost, as though you were somewhere else, with someone else. He saw how your voice cracked when you mentioned them—their name—like it was nothing.

It was a betrayal he didn’t know how to describe, but he felt it all the same. The way the rhythm of your heart had started to slip out of sync with his, like the song that once belonged to both of you was now missing its key notes.

Your laughter, which once felt like home, was no longer his.

You didn’t want to hurt him, not really, but you couldn’t ignore what had happened.

“Minghao,” you said one night, your voice trembling as it fell from your lips. "I don’t want to hurt you."

He didn't answer right away, but the silence between you was as loud as a thousand storms crashing together.

Sona tha tera ve jhootha

Your gold-dipped promises had been false, empty, but it didn’t matter because he still loved you.

"Go," he said, his voice steady, almost cold in the dim light of the room. His heart was a hurricane, but his words were a calm before the storm. "You’re already halfway out the door."

The words were a punch to his own chest. They weren’t born out of anger, but out of this quiet, painful truth. He could feel the space between the two of you growing wider with every passing second, and he couldn’t force you to stay when your heart wasn’t there anymore.

He didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t let go. But he already felt your absence creeping into the corners of his mind, into the small, delicate spaces where you had once existed as his everything.

You froze at the door, the silence between you thick with the weight of what had come to pass. You knew it, too. The finality in his voice, the way he saw through every excuse you tried to tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, choking on the words that burned in your throat, words that had no place in this story, not anymore. "I never meant for this to happen."

Minghao didn’t move. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t beg you to stay. He couldn’t be the one to break and shatter everything when you had already made your choice.

“Go,” he repeated, quieter this time, but somehow that made it even worse. The absence of anger, the quiet surrender to what was inevitable.

The door clicked shut behind you, and Minghao stood there for a long time, staring at the space you once occupied.

But in the hollow silence, he heard your heartbeat, still tangled with his, still beating somewhere, even if it was no longer in sync with his own.

Lakh samjhaun main taan, dil samajh nahi paata

He told himself it was for the best. That this was the only way. He couldn't hold onto someone who was meant for someone else, someone who had already found their place, their soulmate. He kept repeating it in his head, like a mantra, like it was a truth he could believe in. But even the strongest words felt weak against the tide of his emotions.

But his heart, that damn heart of his—it didn’t listen. It never listened.

He couldn’t make it stop. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he told himself that this was what was right, what was logical, the truth always bled through—the truth of how much he still loved you. How much he always would.

And so he sat in the silence of his empty apartment, a place that used to feel like home, but now felt like a stranger’s house. The emptiness gnawed at him, not because of the space you’d left, but because of the parts of him that had vanished with you.

Rang do dinon mein chhoota

The color of your love faded faster than he could comprehend. The once-vibrant moments of tenderness between you two were now dull, drained, leaving behind only the cold ache of what could have been. What should have been. He could almost hear your laughter echoing in the silence, but it was distant, like a song on the wind that he could never quite reach.

How quickly it all fell apart. How quickly the thing he had fought for, the thing he had clung to with every part of himself, was slipping from his grasp, like sand through his fingers. His chest ached with it, a sharp, gnawing pain that refused to leave.

You were the one. He had known it. Fate had made that clear, even if fate had played some cruel game with him. How could something so perfect feel so incomplete now?

He didn’t hate you. He could never hate you. Not when you were the one his soul had always craved, the one he had always sought in his dreams, in his waking moments, in every fleeting thought.

But the bitterness lingered.

It lingered at the edges of his heart like a stain that wouldn’t wash away. He hated the universe for showing him something so beautiful only to rip it apart. He hated the fact that he had loved you so completely, only to be forced to let you go. He hated the feeling of emptiness that came with that love—empty but full of everything he would never get to have.

He sat there, in the dark, the silence louder than any words could ever be. He didn’t know when it would stop hurting. Maybe it never would.

Maybe he would just learn to live with the ache.

Years later, he saw you again.

It was at a bookstore, the kind where the scent of old paper clings to the air like nostalgia. Rain dripped from the edges of his umbrella, the soft patter against the pavement a soundtrack to his every step. He wasn’t expecting it. He wasn’t looking for you. Yet, there you were.

You were standing by the window, flipping through a novel, your face bathed in the soft glow of the lights above. You didn’t notice him at first, lost in the pages, your brow furrowed in concentration. But when you looked up and your eyes met his, everything inside him stopped.

His heart twisted.

“Minghao,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would break the moment.

“Hi,” he replied. His smile was practiced, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was the kind of smile that lived in the places where pain and love collided, only to become something unrecognizable.

There was so much left unsaid between you two. So much more than the weight of those two syllables could carry. But you only said, “I still don’t believe in soulmates.”

He laughed. It was hollow, like an empty echo in a quiet room. “You don’t have to. The universe does.”

Har koi yaar nahi hunda, ve bulleya.

Not everyone gets to be a lover.

The words felt heavier in the space between you two, like a truth neither of you had ever really wanted to face.

He turned and walked away, the rhythm of his footsteps mixing with the rain's quiet murmur. He left you standing there, by the window, where light met shadow and memories lingered in the air.

The world felt smaller now, smaller than the spaces between your heartbeats.

Jaa, Raanjhan, Raanjhan, Raanjhan Go, Raanjhan. Go, the one I loved. Tu bhi kya yaad rakhega? What will you even remember? Jaa, Heer ne tainu chhod diya Go, for Heer has let you go.

tagging: @ottersmind @blvenote @kyeomsworld @cookiearmy @armycarat2612 @rjea @xylatox @flwrshwa

@christinewithluv @headlockimnida @letwiiparkjay @cherr-y-eji @codeinbelle @baguette-atiny @whoa-jo @noiceoofed @thestraybunny @smiileflower @gam3bo17

[vivicantstudy]

30 Of My favorites Compliments in Japanese to Praise Artists and Their Work

I love complimenting artists; I like them to know that their work is always amazing, and I enjoy motivating them. Since I started creating pixel art, I have become very close to Japanese artists and realized that it is much easier to compliment them in Japanese, as it seems to make them feel more comfortable! That’s why I put together a list of compliments! Feel free to use them and correct me!

1. 素晴らしい作品ですね。 (Subarashii sakuhin desu ne.)

“It’s a wonderful piece of work.”

2. とても感動しました。 (Totemo kandō shimashita.)

“I was very moved.”

3. あなたの才能に驚かされます。 (Anata no sainō ni odorokasaremasu.)

“I am amazed by your talent.”

4. 色使いが本当に綺麗ですね。 (Irozukai ga hontō ni kirei desu ne.)

“The use of colors is really beautiful.”

5. 細部まで丁寧に描かれていますね。 (Saibu made teinei ni kakareteimasu ne.)

“The details are drawn so carefully.”

6. ユニークなスタイルですね。 (Yunīku na sutairu desu ne.)

“You have a unique style.”

7. 本当に才能がありますね。 (Hontō ni sainō ga arimasu ne.)

“You truly have talent.”

8. 見ていてとても楽しいです。 (Miteite totemo tanoshii desu.)

“It’s very enjoyable to look at.”

9. 構図が素晴らしいです。 (Kōzu ga subarashii desu.)

“The composition is amazing.”

10. こんな作品を作れるなんて信じられません。 (Konna sakuhin o tsukureru nante shinjiraremasen.)

“I can’t believe you can create such a piece.”

11. とても独創的ですね。 (Totemo dokusōteki desu ne.)

“It’s very creative.”

12. あなたの作品はいつもインスピレーションを与えてくれます。 (Anata no sakuhin wa itsumo insupirēshon o ataete kuremasu.)

“Your work always gives me inspiration.”

13. 表現力が豊かですね。 (Hyōgenryoku ga yutaka desu ne.)

“Your expressive power is remarkable.”

14. 見るたびに新しい発見があります。 (Miru tabi ni atarashī hakken ga arimasu.)

“I discover something new every time I look at it.”

15. あなたの作品には心がこもっていますね。 (Anata no sakuhin ni wa kokoro ga komotteimasu ne.)

“Your work has so much heart in it.”

16. あなたの作品には魂が宿っています。 (Anata no sakuhin ni wa tamashī ga yadotteimasu.)

“Your artwork has a soul in it.”

17. 発想力がすごいですね。 (Hassōryoku ga sugoi desu ne.)

“Your creativity is amazing.”

18. あなたのスタイルはとても独特です。 (Anata no sutairu wa totemo dokutoku desu.)

“Your style is very distinctive.”

19. 作品に強いメッセージ性を感じます。 (Sakuhin ni tsuyoi messe-ji sei o kanjimasu.)

“I feel a strong message in your work.”

20. この作品を見ると、何かを感じずにはいられません。 (Kono sakuhin o miru to, nanika o kanjizu ni wa iraremasen.)

“I can’t help but feel something when I look at this piece.”

21. あなたの作品を見ていると、とても幸せな気持ちになります。 (Anata no sakuhin o miteiru to, totemo shiawase na kimochi ni narimasu.)

“Looking at your work makes me feel very happy.”

22. どの作品も心に響きます。 (Dono sakuhin mo kokoro ni hibikimasu.)

“Every piece of your work resonates with my heart.”

23. この作品の雰囲気がとても好きです。 (Kono sakuhin no fun’iki ga totemo suki desu.)

“I really like the atmosphere of this piece.”

24. あなたのアートはとても洗練されています。 (Anata no āto wa totemo senren sareteimasu.)

“Your art is very refined.”

25. この作品からインスピレーションをたくさんもらいました。 (Kono sakuhin kara insupirēshon o takusan moraimashita.)

“I received a lot of inspiration from this piece.”

26. あなたの技術は素晴らしいです。 (Anata no gijutsu wa subarashii desu.)

“Your technique is superb.”

27. これからの作品も楽しみにしています。 (Korekara no sakuhin mo tanoshimi ni shiteimasu.)

“I’m looking forward to your future works as well.”

28. 色彩の使い方がとても巧みですね。 (Shikisai no tsukaikata ga totemo takumi desu ne.)

“Your use of colors is very skillful.”

29. こんなに素晴らしい作品を見たことがありません。 (Konna ni subarashii sakuhin o mita koto ga arimasen.)

“I’ve never seen such an amazing piece of work.”

30. あなたの描くキャラクターはとても魅力的です。 (Anata no kaku kyarakutā wa totemo miryokuteki desu.)

“The characters you draw are very captivating.”

Some observations made by my Japanese study friends!

1. あなたの作品には魂が宿っています。

This phrase is correct, but it’s quite poetic. If you want a simpler expression:

あなたの作品には力強さを感じます。 (Anata no sakuhin ni wa chikarazuyosa o kanjimasu.)

“I feel strength in your work.”

2. 発想力がすごいですね。

Correct and commonly used.

3. あなたのスタイルはとても独特です。

Correct, but for a softer tone, you could say:

あなたのスタイルはとても個性的ですね。 (Anata no sutairu wa totemo koseiteki desu ne.)

“Your style is very unique and individual.”

4. 作品に強いメッセージ性を感じます。

Correct, but slightly formal. You could also say:

作品から強いメッセージを感じます。 (Sakuhin kara tsuyoi messe-ji o kanjimasu.)

“I feel a strong message from your work.”

5. この作品を見ると、何かを感じずにはいられません。

This phrase is fine, but can be made simpler:

この作品を見ると、心が動かされます。 (Kono sakuhin o miru to, kokoro ga ugokasaremasu.)

“When I look at this piece, my heart is moved.”

6. あなたの作品を見ていると、とても幸せな気持ちになります。

This is correct and conveys the intended meaning well.

7. どの作品も心に響きます。

Correct and natural.

8. この作品の雰囲気がとても好きです。

Correct and natural.

9. あなたのアートはとても洗練されています。

This is fine, but “アート” (āto) is a bit casual. Using 作品 (sakuhin) might be better for a more formal tone:

あなたの作品はとても洗練されています。

10. この作品からインスピレーションをたくさんもらいました。

This is correct. Another way to say it:

この作品にとても刺激を受けました。 (Kono sakuhin ni totemo shigeki o ukemashita.)

“I was very inspired by this piece.”

11. あなたの技術は素晴らしいです。

Correct and natural.

12. これからの作品も楽しみにしています。

Correct and natural.

13. 色彩の使い方がとても巧みですね。

Correct and suitable.

14. こ��なに素晴らしい作品を見たことがありません。

Correct, but sounds slightly dramatic. A softer version:

こんな素敵な作品を見たことがないです。 (Konna sutekina sakuhin o mita koto ga nai desu.)

15. あなたの描くキャラクターはとても魅力的です。

Correct, but can be shortened for a more natural tone:

あなたのキャラクターは魅力的ですね。 (Anata no kyarakutā wa miryokuteki desu ne.)

16. あなたの作品には魂が宿っています。 (Anata no sakuhin ni wa tamashī ga yadotteimasu.)

Correct, but it’s quite poetic and intense. A simpler alternative could be:

あなたの作品には強い感情を感じます。 (Anata no sakuhin ni wa tsuyoi kanjō o kanjimasu.)

“I feel strong emotions in your work.”

17. 発想力がすごいですね。 (Hassōryoku ga sugoi desu ne.)

Correct and natural for complimenting creativity.

18. あなたのスタイルはとても独特です。 (Anata no sutairu wa totemo dokutoku desu.)

Correct, but “独特” (dokutoku) can be interpreted neutrally. For a more positive tone, use:

あなたのスタイルはとても個性的です。 (Anata no sutairu wa totemo koseiteki desu.)

“Your style is very unique and individual.”

19. 作品に強いメッセージ性を感じます。 (Sakuhin ni tsuyoi messe-ji sei o kanjimasu.)

Correct, but it can be simplified:

作品から強いメッセージを感じます。 (Sakuhin kara tsuyoi messe-ji o kanjimasu.)

“I feel a strong message from your work.”

20. この作品を見ると、何かを感じずにはいられません。 (Kono sakuhin o miru to, nanika o kanjizu ni wa iraremasen.)

Correct, but it’s a bit formal and literary. A simpler alternative could be:

この作品を見ると、心が動かされます。 (Kono sakuhin o miru to, kokoro ga ugokasaremasu.)

“When I look at this piece, my heart is moved.”

21. あなたの作品を見ていると、とても幸せな気持ちになります。 (Anata no sakuhin o miteiru to, totemo shiawase na kimochi ni narimasu.)

Correct and natural. No adjustments needed.

22. どの作品も心に響きます。 (Dono sakuhin mo kokoro ni hibikimasu.)

Correct and natural.

23. この作品の雰囲気がとても好きです。 (Kono sakuhin no fun’iki ga totemo suki desu.)

Correct and natural.

24. あなたのアートはとても洗練されています。 (Anata no āto wa totemo senren sareteimasu.)

Correct, but the word “アート” (āto) is a bit casual. Using “作品” (sakuhin) might be more appropriate for a formal tone:

あなたの作品はとても洗練されています。

“Your work is very refined.”

25. この作品からインスピレーションをたくさんもらいました。 (Kono sakuhin kara insupirēshon o takusan moraimashita.)

Correct. Another way to say it:

この作品にとても刺激を受けました。 (Kono sakuhin ni totemo shigeki o ukemashita.)

“I was very inspired by this piece.”

26. あなたの技術は素晴らしいです。 (Anata no gijutsu wa subarashii desu.)

Correct and natural.

27. これからの作品も楽しみにしています。 (Korekara no sakuhin mo tanoshimi ni shiteimasu.)

Correct and natural.

28. 色彩の使い方がとても巧みですね。 (Shikisai no tsukaikata ga totemo takumi desu ne.)

Correct and suitable.

29. こんなに素晴らしい作品を見たことがありません。 (Konna ni subarashii sakuhin o mita koto ga arimasen.)

Correct, but it sounds slightly dramatic. A softer version would be:

こんな素敵な作品を見たことがないです。 (Konna sutekina sakuhin o mita koto ga nai desu.)

“I’ve never seen such a wonderful piece.”

30. あなたの描くキャラクターはとても魅力的です。 (Anata no kaku kyarakutā wa totemo miryokuteki desu.)

Correct, but can be shortened for a more natural tone:

あなたのキャラクターは魅力的ですね。 (Anata no kyarakutā wa miryokuteki desu ne.)

“Your characters are captivating.”

This list was quite a bit of work to make, but it was very fun! I would appreciate it if you shared it! Thank yoooooou!

[ghostofhyuck]

nct dream on their wedding day. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

‧˚ʚ ───────── ₊‧꒰ა ୨ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊ ───────── ɞ˚‧

AN: Yes I know how weddings usually happen in Korea and China but let me dream.

Mark Lee

Church wedding DEFINITELY A CHURCH WEDDING. I think that it'll be intimate with just a few guests. Like knit-tight friends and families. And definitely Johnny is his best man, he has to be! Mark's vows are so poetic and long AND he'll cry halfway when reading the vows. He won't be crying when you're walking down the aisle but the moment he's telling you his vows, his voice becomes shaky and tears will fall!! Also would smile nonstop, looking at you, and telling you that you look so beautiful!! He couldn't believe he's marrying you. 

Huang Renjun

A Garden wedding! He'll make sure that you two will have a wedding during spring or summer where the weather is sunny and the flowers are blooming!! It'll be an intimate wedding too and I feel like he doesn't have a best man (he loves Dreamies equally.) He'll be the type to cry \during the first look, seeing how beautiful you are in your wedding gown. He'll be surprised, as if you took his breathe away. But I feel like there's still a touch of the chinese tradition in his wedding, so I think it's a bit mix-cultural wedding too. 

Lee Jeno

Oh it's a simple indoor wedding, but the designs are just extravagant because you know, he still wants what you want, and he's just there going with the flow with the wedding planning. Jaemin as his best man, end of debate. Probably has a color motif for your wedding AND the prenup wedding shoot was something else. It looks like straight out of a magazine and it's displayed outside the venue halls. You two are hot and so in love. Probably won't cry, would let out a laugh because its YOU who's crying in your wedding with him. (I mean who doesn't that's Lee Jeno WTF.) But would be the most comforting groom ever!!

Lee Donghyuck

HAECHAN WILL BE HAVING A BEACH WEDDING. It should be a beach wedding!!! His tan skin perfectly kissed by the sun. It'll be a non-traditional wedding that's exclusive too! Probably has Taeyong to officiate the wedding (Im not kidding with this one) and Mark as his best man. His wedding would be fun but it gets dramatic when it's time for the vows because Haechan started crying before he could even talk! You two were a bunch of crybabies during the exchange of vows. Also you two kissed while the sun was setting. So romantic omg.

Na Jaemin

Extravagant, and grand wedding. Imagine Hyun Bin and Son Yejin's wedding, I feel like that's what Jaemin's wedding is. But despite the grand wedding, there's only a few guests, so its very exclusive too. The wedding prenup shoot was also breath-taking. When you walked onto the aisle, Jaemin would be in daze, mouthing "Wow" when he sees you even though you're covered in veil. He'll be smiling widely that the NCT members are teasing him for looking like a love fool. When you reached the aisle, he'll whisper "I love you." to you. 

Zhong Chenle

Just like Jaemin, Chenle will have an extravagant and grand wedding too. It's just going to be huge wedding that's going to be the talk of the town, for the sole purpose that his parents invited A LOT OF PEOPLE (imagine the wedding in Crazy Rich Asians.) But what matters is that he's marrying you. There won't be a lot of crying because you two would constantly tease other, especially during the vows! It'll be filled with laughter and teasing, just two idiots in love with each other. 

Park Jisung

An indoor wedding too! It'll be cute and motif in pastels, so it's very innocent-like and is filled with flowers. An intimate wedding too, so only a few guests. Jisung would be a MESS, he'll be nervous thinking about getting married to you, that his hyungs has to convinced him that everything will be fine. That's why when you reached the end of the aisle, he'll be crying mess already!! You'll be worried but he assures you that he's fine, he'll unknowingly slipped that he's happy today because you two are getting married!! :<

[usagifuyusummer]

Family Dinner Night!

Congrats Peri(winkle) for finally getting the Godparenting license!!! 🥳🥳🥳 - from your loving parents and godbrother 💖💖💖

More concept art and as usual my insane ramblings below.

I NEED TO GET THE CREATIVE URGES OUT OF MY HEAD!!! It has been bothering with my motivation to finish my gazillions of homeworks lmao. I have so many ideas I need to let out!!! It's suffocating. I hope this will satisfy my creative urges for a while... Or not I will yap about my FOP AU on a separate post (when I'm able).

I can't stop being sad thinking about this family lol. Timmy 😭😭😭

I am not kidding when I say that my head is just filled with so many things that I want to contribute in the FOP fanworks lol. There's a lot I want to do, but so little time...

For now, I've decided to practice my take on the FOP artstyle. I wanted to do something simple as drawing and coloring practice. That's why the coloring this time is flat with no shadings. I think the show doesn't focus on shaded colors too much (except on scenes where there's a heavy implication of day/night, for shock value, etc.).

Just wanted to draw something cute because I haven't been feeling so swell lately. Nothing too poetic or detailed this time.

Other than that, two of the outfits this time is actually inspired by @suki-na-kumo for Peri and an image I found floating around in Twitter/X (sorry I don't remember who shared it) for Timmy's design. Suki-na-kumo's FOP family redesigns are so cool and adorable! I like that they always include flowy attributes in Peri's outfits lol. It makes him look like a pampered brat (which he kinda is seeing how his family coddles him), an otherworldly prince and also a Twink TM (that is unavoidable lol). I kinda want to draw their other FOP redesigns, but I'll just go with Peri's first.

I am not sure where that 18 year old Timmy design is from, but it kinda can be his design for those who theorise him on becoming a lawyer as an adult. There's a lot of instances where Timmy is wearing a suit in the show, but this design is one of my favs due to the hairstyle change. My adult Timmy designs in the future will be influenced from this piece of official art. I wonder if there are more Timmy designs in the wild wild west out there that I haven't seen... It is certainly an interesting find (Teen AJ is also there, and his design also looks cool to me).

Cosmo and Wanda's oufits are something that I cooked up. I don't think the coloring looks good... I just did this on a whim, and for about 13 hours. Damn, I am procrastinating on my work lmao.

Still, the context this time is, that they've had a family dinner to celebrate on Peri's achievement on finally obtaining his godparenting license!!! Good for him!!!

This is an AU if Timmy somehow was able to find a loophole in the "losing your memories of your fairy godparents after you become an adult" rule. Because of that, he continued his life as normal (as Timmy's chaotic life can be), but this time he is able to keep in contact with his fairy family even if they're not contractually obligated to stick together. Timmy does live with the Fairywinkle Cosma's around his college to early work years, but he eventually was able to move out and live on his own at where he works as a lawyer after a while in his adulthood. (His birth parents eventually went on a lifetime vacation without him or just went away for too long that Timmy just lives on his own a lot after he is 18 and above...)

Despite living on his own nowadays (In a New Wish context), Timmy does keep in contact with his fairy family and visits them when he's not busy with his job. Cosmo and Wanda still took a long vacation in this AU, first due to, yeah, Timmy is no easy feat as a godchild lol, and second, they actually want to take their time to raise BOTH of their children (even if Timmy is no longer a child/godchild) and guide them until they're stable adults. Timmy during college years actually only stays with the Fairywinkle Cosma's on holidays, so when Timmy's busy with college, that is when Cosmo and Wanda take their time relaxing lmao.

Sometimes when they really want to have some time alone or when Peri wants to see his bro, they will send Peri to Timmy's college for a day or more. Timmy babysits Peri so much during his college years lol. They both had fun though! With a lot of Peri newfound nuclear fairy power shenanigans at Timmy's college lmao. Studying law and taking the bar exam has never been more chaotic with babysitting a nuclear powered fairy child.

There's a lot more on this AU that I've been thinking, but I'll stop here for now. I need to gather my AU ideas in one post sometime later.

Also, Peri and Timmy are both adults here, Peri's around his 20's here and Timmy is on his early 30's I think. Cosmo, Wanda, and Peri are in their human disguises here, because they want to learn more about human culture (A New Wish context) while also having the desire to be more in Timmy's life.

I headcannon Timmy to be kinda short in his adulthood. This is also a nod to that episode when his fairy family used imperfect human disguises, even Poof/Peri was taller than Timmy in his human baby disguise lol. And also hey, wearing braces during his teen years paid off! (his big teeth are visible only when he opens his mouth lol)

As usual, here's some concept art and a png lineart pic if you want to use it to color it better than I did lmao. (that was a long yapping session... thanks for reading)

[bakuromiii]

gn reader

—————

~ there’s something in the way you miss people.

no matter the distance, your heart will always long for the one you call home. the reminiscence of each breath jaemin has ever had within your presence stays glued to your mind. every laugh, every word, and every scent screams na jaemin in every being within you.

it’s heartbreaking, really— how much you miss na jaemin for being away. but who could blame you? no one could ever tear you apart. there’s no other being like him that could ever exist in your lifetime. he’s your everything.

but when it’s time for him to go, you hold on to everything that he’s ever had. he is your comfort. he is your person.

there’s so much confiding through a screen and although it cannot compete with being face-to-face, it works. it works just enough as you count down the days, hours, and minutes until you get to see the love of your life. the virtual kisses are, in the end, worth it.

oh, but when you finally get to see his face in person there’s no other thing that could bring you more joy than the man of your dreams.

there’s something poetic in the way you share your love.

it may sound fictional but you’re so loved in all of the right ways that life just feels euphoric.

he’s your whole. unwholly in the way that he loves you. it’s overwhelming yet brings you down to earth and grounds you. he grounds you. in the utmost beautiful way he can possibly think of.

na jaemin loves you— that much is obvious. but even he is unaware of how much he truly loves you. he says his heart is full of you, but really it’s overflowing with passion and energy.

the way you hold him, the way you console him, and the way you speak to him is forever engraved into his soul. truly, you are more than soulmates.

he is unable to formalize the right words that describe you and your relationship to each other. he’s just forever yours. he always will be.

there’s something fulfilling in the way you both live your lives.

you are your own being and na jaemin is his own. so independently beautiful and yet so powerfully connected together, you and jaemin take on the world. there’s no one else better for this position. your love for each holds emotions so maturely and meticulously handled by the golden chain that connects the pure red of your beating hearts.

both canonically infatuated with every fiber of everything that you are. there are thousands of words upon words that you both share and at the end of the day ‘i love you’ is what you need to hear the most. it’s the most important.

you can’t ever forget any moment shared between you and na jaemin because he is the most special person to every exist in your universe. in any universe.

you’re so incredibly lucky to find someone who loves you, cares for you, and is willing to be the best version of himself for you. na jaemin takes care of you in ways you can’t even comprehend.

na jaemin loves you in which words cannot describe. both as a human being and as his lover, he’ll forever pour out his gratitude for being able to grow with you.

those are the ways in which this life has chosen to gently grasp you in every way you deserve. starting with na jaemin as your guide. and you, his.

—————

hi i wanted to write something poetic and soul crushing (in a good way for once.) hopefully this is enough :)

[pruneunfair]

My feelings on: part 8, Tears on a withered flower: the most annoying fandom to date so far.

I ask if this one was really that great since I've been seeing it all over the place on tiktok and Instagram and reading it myself, I can see why it would garner an audience because it's another "working woman finds a better man after her loser ex cheats on her with a stupid damsel girl" type story. It's kinda good but in my opinion: it's not THAT good but there is only 23 chapters I read so far so I'll let it marinate before I actually start going after it for the plot.

What I really wanna talk about is the fanbase of tears on a withered flower because while the manhwa community does have a problem with internalized misogyny this specific fanbase takes the cake.

I don't like saying the term "glazing" but it's the only way to accurately describe the way they treat the FL Na Haesoo because they are absolutely feral. First off, I've seen them lose their shit over other fans simply saying "I think that this female character has a prettier design then Hae soo." And these stans reply with the most immature and even down right laughable comebacks. I took some screenshot of a tears of the wither flower slide show to give you an idea.

"Hae soon is the main character for a reason."

Who's gonna tell them that protagonists can be written poorly?

Trust me, I'm sure no one's jealous of a fictional character.

Okay the context basically was that Hae soos coworker was just being real with her based on what she knows about Hae soos life and apparently fans took that as her being jealous and when people who actually read the god damn plot and use their critical thinking to point this out, the stans basically go "nuh uh" and continue to scream even louder. Personally when I read that chapter i took it as brutal honesty, from her perspective Tae Ha was hitting on a married woman and the two barely knew eachother. A little harsh but she's not jealous of Hae soo 😭 like we barely know this girl!

I think the most complained about aspect of tears on a withered flower is the anatomy, specifically the anatomy of all the characters your supposed to really like/care about.

I don't mind that Hae Soo is built like that cause while her anatomy definitely is unrealistic it's also a cartoon comic and cartoons have lots of bizarre forms of anatomy that don't always need to be accurate. With that said I don't find it a coincidence that the FL who is the most fleshed out and only grown woman who isn't meant to be disliked or made fun of is a tsunade cup sized babe with big thighs, a tiny waist, a nice butt, and a baby face.

Yeah I'll say it: Hae soo is another example of authors wanting to make a non conventionally attractive woman since she's supposed to be older (like 33) who is also overworked so she doesn't take care of herself but in the end they didn't have the balls to actually go through with it so they not only gave Hae soo an amazing figure and hair but they also gave her a clear face, tiny lips and barely noticeable eye bags which I still can't tell if they're even eye bags or just her eyelashes.

When anyone even dares to point out that Hae Soo's design is weirdly propionate compared to the other female characters you get hid with the "Your just jealous that you can't have a man like Tae Ha!!"

look i don't mind disproportionate anatomy in cartoon comics but if you give me character designs with more accurate proportions, I'm going to choose the latter for prettier looking designs.

Another thing about this manhwa was the dialog. I like it at times because it can be so poetic.. and then they just throw in some comically evil sentences for the villains that most sane people would not make the public aware of in a modern day setting. It's not something that really annoys me I just thought it was fun to laugh at every now and again while reading.

conclusion: I think the best way to describe tears on a withered flowers fanbase is kinda like how Netflix treats Bigmouth. No, TOTWF is definitely no where near levels of uncomfortable as Bigmouth but it's in the way that it really isn't as good as everyone claims, it's okay at first and then it got old and some people started opening up that the thought Bigmouth was garbage only for a bunch of stans to barge in with "You just don't get it!!" People won't let it go, they keep insisting it's the best piece of work to exist and anyone who doesn't like it is a jealous loser.

[ingenue-europa]

CW: substance abuse One thing that can be very hard in heathenry, as well as for a lot of faiths and cultures, is struggling with a substance abuse disorder (particularly alcoholism.) I myself am a recovering alcoholic and heathen and I cannot emphasize how difficult it is to reconcile not drinking with the overall prevalence of drinking in the lore and in the community of heathens. Let me just say that the Havamal says don't hold on to the mead-horn, but drink your fair share. If your fair share is none, then so be it. And the gods don't expect you to do anything that is to your detriment. There is no requirement. If any amount of alcohol results in excess, then it's ok to not consume it at all. One thing I do to counteract the cravings is to share my drinks with the gods. I give and offering of whatever I'm drinking, because I know that I wouldn't dare share my alcohol (which used to include mead on occasion) with Odin right after HE JUST SAID. Some one who cares about your recovery won't drink in front of you (if that's what you need, of course.)

This also goes for people who are not of age. Don't feel any pressure from the popular portrayals of Norse culture. “A traveler cannot bring a better burden on the road than plenty of wisdom, and he can bring no worse a burden than too much alcohol.” Odin gave you permission, friends. This may resonate with other faiths. There are substitutes for alcohol in most traditions, I'm willing to bet. And if you need support with substance abuse and need a little more diversity than AA or NA, there's also Pagans in Recovery (which does require you already be a part of a 12 step program) and Recovery Dharma (a Buddhist inspired recovery program.) I can't speak to other programs, but these communities worked for me.

Props to Jackson Crawford for his translation of The Poetic Edda.

[seriouslysam8]

Sneak peak? A line from the chapter? Throw us a bone na Sam

Sure! This is unedited. And I also don't have a chapter title yet. But, whatever.

“Oi!” Ginny roared, bolting towards the group. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Malfoy glanced over at her, his lip curling into a sneer. “Just having a chat with my cousin,” he said, turning back to Cepheus and patting him roughly on the cheek. “Explaining to him where his place is. What’s it to you, little Weaselbee?”

Ginny saw red. “Get away from him! You have no business even talking to him after what your father did to him!”

A stony glare crossed Malfoy’s face. He turned slowly to look at Cepheus and let out a cruel chuckle.

“Tell her, Black,” Malfoy urged, his eyebrows raising as he looked down at Cepheus. “Tell her you belong with us. It’s your birth right.”

“Sirius and Harry are his family, not you,” Ginny spat, feeling Demelza step up beside her.

“Tell her the truth, Black. Oh, wait, should I not call you Black?” Malfoy said in a near mocking tone. “What with your lineage and all. I’m surprised she doesn’t already know, given how Potter acts like a lovesick puppy dog following her around all the time. Or maybe Potter doesn’t know the truth. Do you think his beloved dumb dog of a godfather never told him?”

Cepheus’ eyes glanced over at Ginny and Demelza, his wide eyes pleading. He didn’t say anything as his body trembled against the wall. Ginny frowned, her eyes flickering between the two of them.

Malfoy laughed, smirking. “Oh, this is too good. Potter doesn’t even know who he’s living with? How poetic,” he continued, his grin widening. “Black here is the Dark Lord’s grandson, little Weaselbee. The dumb dog? Yeah, his real daddy is the Dark Lord. Potter’s been consorting with the family that killed his parents.”

[semantic-diarium]

Veja, é a minha paciência, se distanciando...

(Look, it's my patience, pulling away...)

A vida é muito engraçada. Criei este Tumblr com o intuito de manter minha 'solidão', sentimentos e pensamentos expressados de forma mais poética. Vez ou outra, posto fotos minhas com mais liberdade, sem ter medo de ser sexualizada por homens ou julgada por mulheres. Mas acho que talvez nem aqui eu tenha paz!

Quando menciono 'solidão', não me refiro à falta de seguidores ou à falta de conversas com algumas pessoas vez ou outra (para mim, isso é uma consequência, sou pessoa de poucos amigos), mas sim ao devido espaço para me expressar sem me sentir cobrada de alguma forma, sabe? Fazer posts com calma, na minha hora, ao meu estilo e como quero, e demorar o tempo que for preciso para isso.

Eu tenho consciência da fama que o Tumblr tinha na época de seu auge, mas o escolhi atualmente justamente pelo fato de ter caído no esquecimento com o passar dos anos. Ter uma opinião formada hoje em dia pode soar como uma ofensa ou afronta para aqueles que podem não concordar com você, e daí o respeito desaparece, mas não somente a partir deste tópico.

Ninguém mais liga para o interior das pessoas ou suas qualidades, só para sua aparência, tudo bem... Eu aprendi a lidar com isso. Afinal, se em outras redes sociais as músicas que eu adaptava, os desenhos que eu criava, as poesias que eu escrevia e os covers que eu cantava eram indiferentes para meus próprios seguidores, aqui não seria diferente. Afinal, se for para eu abraçar a indiferença, que seja 100% dela!

Perceber que mesmo aqui no Tumblr somente a minha aparência vai ser relevante me gera um desânimo preponderante! Eu sei quando estou sendo apenas elogiada (pode sim, sem problemas), mas também sei quando alguém está afim de ultrapassar esta linha de limite. Espero não ter que ficar enfatizando toda hora que estou muito bem resolvida no quesito 'relacionamento íntimo' ou tão pouco tendo que destacar toda maldita vez o que é limite e respeito em uma conversa!

Sim, eu faço parte da subcultura gótica, sim, eu sigo uma vertente dentro da mesma! Mas não! Vocês não têm o direito de ficar me fetichizando por conta de uma estética que é utilizada como forma de protesto dentro da subcultura.

Respeitar não dói!

Life is quite amusing. I created this Tumblr with the intention of maintaining my 'solitude,' expressing feelings and thoughts in a more poetic manner. Occasionally, I post photos of myself with more freedom, without fearing being sexualized by men or judged by women. But I guess maybe even here I won't find peace!

When I mention 'solitude,' I don't mean not having followers or not chatting with a few people now and then (to me, that's a consequence, I'm a person with few friends), but rather having the necessary space to express myself without feeling pressured in any way, you know? Making posts calmly, in my own time, in my style, and how I want, and taking as long as necessary for that.

I'm aware of the fame Tumblr had back in its heyday, but I chose it now precisely because it has been forgotten over the years. Having an opinion nowadays can sound like an offense or a challenge to those who may not agree with you, and then respect disappears, but not just from this topic.

No one cares about people's inner selves or their qualities anymore, just their appearance, it's okay... I've learned to deal with that. After all, if on other social media platforms the songs I adapted, the drawings I created, the poems I wrote, and the covers I sang were indifferent to my own followers, it wouldn't be any different here. After all, if I'm going to embrace indifference, let it be 100% hers!

Realizing that even here on Tumblr only my appearance will be relevant fills me with overwhelming discouragement! I know when I'm just being complimented (that's fine, no problem), but I also know when someone is trying to cross that line of boundaries. I hope I don't have to keep emphasizing all the time that I'm very well settled in the 'intimate relationship' aspect or having to highlight every damn time what is a boundary and respect in a conversation!

Yes, I am part of the gothic subculture, yes, I follow a branch within it! But no! You don't have the right to fetishize me because of an aesthetic that is used as a form of protest within the gothic subculture.

Respecting doesn't hurt!

[rwrbficrecs]

WIP Wednesday

A bit late but happy new year 🎊 starting the year off strong with 10 WIP recs - enjoy!! ❤️

the world forgetting, by the world forgot by @leaves-of-laurelin (book-verse)

@dot524: This is an extraordinarily sad and poignant story about the tragedy of a failed relationship and the efforts to bring it back together. Alex and Henry used to be together, but they grew apart. As part of their breakup, Henry underwent a procedure that caused him to forget Alex, and Alex decides to do the same thing. What will they do when they realize that it was a mistake? This is an Eternal Sunlight of the Spotless Mind AU, and I’m not familiar with that story, but the fic is engrossing and well-done. It’s also almost finished. Check it out!

Like Because, Love Despite by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@dot524: Alex and Henry are work rivals who are both working themselves to the bone. It turns out that they used to be together, but they broke up. Their assistants, Nora and Pez, have come up with a plan to get them together - mainly to make their own jobs tolerable. But Alex and Henry are working through a painful past, and things are not always as they seem. I was snorting reading the most recent chapter - this one is just fun, joyful, and hilarious. Plus there are some flashbacks to their relationship that make you feel all the feels. Can’t wait to see how the author gets these two together!

Break Out by @cricketnationrise (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: Ice hockey is the perfect setup for an MLM romance, right?! Novels like Time to Shine are a prime example, and there are already some amazing firstprince x ice hockey AUs out there. And now, cricketnationrise started one too – yay !! Humor, fluff, and eventual smut – ok, enough said, I’m in!

i'll be riding shotgun by @callmevenji (book-verse)

@na-dineee: As with ice hockey, road trips are just as popular setups for many beautiful rwrb fanfics. With this one, I’m able to tick off some of my favourite tropes, like enemies to lovers, oblivious Alex with abandonment issues, or found family. The author’s previous fics have always amazed me, and I’m sure this one will be no different – the setup is just too good!

tis the damn season by @littlemisskittentoes (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I think this is Sarah’s first multi-chap fic? Alex and Henry were childhood best friends, a friendship that meant the world to Alex. But that’s all in the past. Still, Alex’s stubborn heart never stopped loving Henry... The WiP is posted about halfway through, and it’s as beautifully poetic as you’d expect from Sarah. The small town setting gives off such cozy vibes – it’s just so lovely !!

The Love Lasts So Long by @chaa-kiao (book-verse)

@na-dineee: The Foxes are close friends of the Claremont-Diazes. However, Alex can’t stand Henry. Like, not at all !! Naturally he's kind of shocked/annoyed to find out that Henry will be spending Christmas with them. As usual, Alex is totally oblivious to his feelings, but they'll get there, won't they?! I love this author, and am so glad that they're posting again. A story about falling in love, discovering their feelings, and the magic of Christmas - even in January just perfect.

The Final Rose by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex is the new Bachelor, and it's Henry's job to keep everything running smoothly. Of course, the whole thing gets off to a rocky start. Henry can't stand Alex and his easy charm, but as he gets to know him, he starts to warm up, realising his feelings are anything but professional. Are we here for this?!! Yes, we are, aren’t we?!

Sweet Little Lies by @celaestis1 (book-verse)

@dot524: Canon divergent AU where Alex misses the royal wedding and Cake-gate never happened, but a flirtation between June and Henry and a lavender relationship did instead. Alex is still obsessed with Henry and has to confront his own feelings as the situation unfolds. So excited to see where this goes, especially since I’ve loved this author’s other works!

Driven to Distraction by @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Since last year’s photos of TZP and Nick at F1 events, we’ve all been waiting (okay, maybe just me … but you too, right?!) for this AU. And now it’s here, written by none other than happinessofthepursuit. It’s going to be 10 chapters, rated E, Enemies to Lovers—and chapter 1 already leaves you wanting more.

Married at First Sight by @omgcmere (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: If you heard squealing across the oceans on Sunday, it was probably me when I saw the email notification for this beloved author publishing her first fic in 3 years. Alex and Henry sign up to do a reality show (if you haven't watched it, don't worry. I haven't and I'm enjoying it all the same!) in which they are supposed to get married to a complete stranger--except it turns out they already know each other, and Alex has been nursing a grudge for years. We're only a chapter in but the tension has already built up to an excellent level and I can't wait to keep reading.

check out our past WIP recs here ❤️

[vvivacious101]

Mere liye pyaar ka matlab ho tum! - Part 4

Radhe & Tamanna from Bandish Bandits

So, it's finally time to talk about the climax of season 2 episode 7 titled Bandish Bandits. The scene that had me so jazzed that it got me to watch this show in the first place. A scene that has been discussed endlessly in Youtube comments without any nuance.

But I have nothing but nuance, I have made three posts discussing the buildup to this scene and the state of Radhe & Tamanna's relationship before the competition starts. Now let's talk about the Jugalbandi moment in exhaustive detail.

First of all, Tamanna was completely dominating the song and the round. She was winning. It was so obvious to see how far she had come because she was going head to head with so many classically trained singers and coming on top. Especially considering how nervous Radhe makes her it was amazing to see her absolutely floor her performance.

But while Radhe is on the back foot for most of the performance it is his mother who is really helping him every time he seems to get lost watching Tamanna perform. On multiple occasions, his family brings his focus back to the rhythm of the song. If it was only Tamanna versus Radhe, Tamanna would wind this round but in a realistic assessment of pitting Royalty Free against Rathod Gharana, the Rathod Gharana would win because as a team they are able to overcome every challenge Tamanna presents and she is keeping everyone on their toes singlehandedly.

Secondly, it is amazing to see how starstruck Radhe is for most of the song. He did say he was Tamanna's biggest fan and he proved that till Tamanna starts singing Sajan Bin he has to be brought to attention at least twice and on top of that he is not only starstruck but very much lovestruck as well.

This is the point where we inspect the freaking lyrics of this song for having committed the crime of being blatant as fuck. The parts Tamanna sings are in purple while Radhe's parts are in blue. Any parts not in these two colours are primarily being sung by someone else (Mohini gets her own colour which is pink).

So, as I analyse this scene which I have watched too many goddamn times for my sanity I am coming to realise this song is very complicated with multiple singers and so many vocalizations that trying to get the lyrics down has been a struggle. The lyrics as they appear below are a gross simplification for the purpose of this post.

How to Feel Alive When My Soul is Dying Inside?

Baby, It’s A Darker Time

Baby, Come and Grab My Soul

My Heart is Quite Inside

I want you to be by my side.

Tamanna begins the song by directly singing to Radhe. Radhe meanwhile is busy being a fanboy.

Garaj Garajne Laga Yeh, Tarasta Mann Su mera, Ye Mann Su mera

Piya Ka Mann Aaj Raz Kholne Laga Re

[Vocalizations]

Na Jane Kaisi Yeh Bala Hai

Har Pal Teri Yadon Mein Jala Hai

Fir Bhi Nazar Na Tu Aa Aa Aa Aaye,

Kyun Sata Aa Aa Aaye

Na Jane Kaisi Yeh Bala Hai

Har Pal Teri Yadon Mein Jala Hai

Fir Bhi Nazar Na Tu Aa Aa Aa Aaye,

Kyun Sata Aa Aa Aa Aye

Radhe is still in fanboy mode.

Khali Sa Mann Yeh Mera, Aake Tu Dekh Zara

Tujhko Pukare Sunn Le Zara, Tu Ghar Aa

Tamanna is back to singing to Radhe. This time while standing directly in front of him.

Tu Ghar Aa mahi

I’m waiting for you.

O Bhatka Rahi

Maaahhiii

I’m waiting for you.

Tamanna is literally singing 'I'm waiting for you' standing in front of Radhe and I think at this point he starts to understand that she is singing for him.

[Vocalizations]

Sajan Tora Take Rasta, Ratiya Beeti Jaye

Haye Ratiya Beeti Jaye

Time for Radhe to play an Uno reverse card and sing to Tamanna this time.

Imma See the Light I’m Lost In Darkest Time

It’s Growing Up Inside

You’re the One to trap my soul

You’re the One who Will Revive

I want you to be by my side

The fact that Tamanna turns around to face Radhe when she starts singing 'You're the one to trap my soul' is so fucking poetic.

Don’t Wanna Lose You Now, You Know I’m Alone

The Pain Is Taking My Skin and Bones

You Gotta Come and Heal It

You Gotta Come And Steal The Pain

I’m Waiting For You

We already know she was thinking of Radhe the first time she sang these lyrics and now she is singing those words to him. At this point, Radhe is definitely lovestruck and this is when his band comes to the rescue.

Ho Kaali Si Ghata Chhaye

Umad Ghumad Har Kali Pe

Aaye Hain Jaise Bhanwar Bhanwar

Ab Kohra Kohra Chhaye Raha

Mohini trying to bolster Radhe.

Ho Kaali Si Ghata Chhaye

Umad Ghumad Har Kali Pe

Aaye Hain Jaise Bhanwar Bhanwar

Ab Kohra Kohra Chhaye Raha

Sajan Aaja

Tu Ghar Aa Mahi

Balam Aaja

Oo Bhatka Rahi

Sajan Aaja

Tu Ghar Aa Mahi

Again Tamanna is singing to Radhe and this time Mohini is definitely getting the hint. It is interesting to realise that these two are so hopelessly entangled yet Radhe's family has no idea about his relationship with Tamanna but at this point, Mohini is definitely realising that the Sajan Tamanna is singing of is Radhe. At this point, Radhe actually follows Tamanna into no man's land but he looses this particular round of jugalbandi.

I’m Waiting For You…

Oh, Waiting For You.

Oh, I’m Waiting For You.

Oh, How To Feel Alive? How To Feel Alive?

I’m Waiting For You, Waiting For You.

I’m Waiting For You.

Mohini to the rescue again...

Sajan Moray!

Sajan Moray!

Moray

Moray

Sajan

Sajan moray moray

Moray

Moray

Sajan

Sajan Moray

...but this time Tamanna is matching her beat for beat. I think Radhe is genuinely mindblown to see Tamanna sing with his mother. His brain can't comprehend seeing his two worlds collide this way. At this point, we get a shot of Rajendra and Devendra looking quite bewildered and frankly worried. I wonder if they think they are going to lose to Tamanna.

Sajan Bin Aaye

Sajan Bin Aaye Na

The point where Tamanna starts singing Sajan Bin has interspersed shots of Ayaan and Nandini Ma'am looking worried. I can't quite figure out why she chooses to sing Sajan Bin.

The emotion she has tapped into this whole song makes Sajan Bin a good choice for transitioning into but this song has so much history for the Bandish Bandits and I feel like at this point, things get really difficult to parse out.

Clearly, Tamanna is using her heart a little too much as she transitions into Sajan Bin. This entire song she has let go of the reins on her emotions, Tamanna has always told Radhe that she doesn't think they should be together but that is very much a logical choice, it is also the correct choice but correctness matters little in the fact of emotions and her emotional choice is very much to give in to Radhe.

I feel like at this point as Radhe slowly and steadily realises what Tamanna is trying to say to him via this song, he gets angry. He wants to be with Tamanna, it is Tamanna who is forcing this separation and I think at this point he starts to feel like it's unfair that she gets to sing with these emotions when the choice causing those emotions is her own, unlike his situation and that means that when he sings the next paragraph he goes all out. On second thought, that was a reach on my part and I feel like in this particular moment the simplest explanation is likely the truest. It was about his ego. Radhe's ego which uptil this point has proven disastrous on multiple occasions gets the better of him and he truly can't digest the idea of her being better than him.

Sajan Bin Aaye Na Mohe Nindiya

Rain Bhar Aaye Re Jage Ratiya

Kahe Tu Mohe Sajan Piya Re Dikhe Yeh Nazare Mane Na Apne Akhiyan

Sajan Bin Aaye

[Vocalizations]

I’m Waiting For You

[Vocalizations]

Tu Ghar Aa Mahi

[Vocalizations]

Mahi! Mahi!

[Vocalizations]

I’m Waiting I’m Waiting For You.

I’m Waiting For You.

Oh Ghar Aa Mahi!

This captivating performance ends with the crowd chanting Radhe! Radhe! It's literally Tamanna's worst nightmare come to life! The release of Phas Gaye (Sajan Bin) is what first started to erode Tamanna's self-confidence with every fan pitting Tamanna's musical talent against Radhe's and finding it lacking. And, this is just that on a much bigger platform and it hurts even more because she has worked so hard to get to where she is and she is still found lacking. The fact that Tamanna can rally herself so quickly that she can help her band win the next round is honestly astonishing considering the blow she was dealt but I guess she is in a much better place self-esteem-wise then she was at the end of season 1.

A lot of people in YouTube comments especially were talking about Tamanna going a little too far in singing 'Sajan Bin' and basically injuring Radhe's ego which given Radhe's personality isn't completely out of the realm of possibility. It is a distinct possibility that the idea of Tamanna surpassing him made his ego rear its ugly head. [So, the people in the YouTube comments were on the nose in this instance.]

But the question is - is Radhe wrong? No.

Is Tamanna wrong in blaming Radhe for exploiting a weakness he was intimately aware of? No.

But, she is wrong when she tells Radhe that he was lying when he said that he would happily lose to her because he would, he does. I don't think it is right of Tamanna to expect Radhe to lose to her without putting his best foot forward. I also believe that a lot of what she says in their conversation following this performance is more out of an emotional response than something she actually would have wanted. It also explains why she doesn't hold this against Radhe because I feel she realises that a hollow victory would be worse than defeat. But, given that she has quite literally lived her worst nightmare excuses her state of mind especially because Radhe does, he realises that what happened has been extremely distressing to Tamanna to the point that he has a hard time focusing on his conversation with Ananya.

Also, I saw a braindead opinion talking about how Tamanna disrespected Mohini. She didn't and that is very evident given how Mohini praises Tamanna's performance when the round ends. When she hugs Tamanna, Radhe is again thrown for a loop because I feel like he is literally seeing a dream come true. His mother embraces Tamanna something I don't think he ever gave himself hope to ever see become reality.

In hindsight, I am glad I decided to split these posts up because it would have been impossible to talk so much in-depth in just one post.

My conclusions will have to be in Part 5.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three I Part Four I Conclusion

[diyasgarden]

omgomg konna netlaka (which means we used to meet) is so so beautiful, man. LIKE THE WAY SHe talks about and captures a specific emotion of like a nostalgic longing for a past time period/relationship and a longing to return to ur childhood & like playing in the sun and forgetting your responsibilities and troubles and missing how carefree you used to be as time passes

listening to this ESPECIALLY IN THE WINTER AS YOU SAID BC IT GIVES AUTUMN VIBES and it’s just so perfect

& your friend has amaaazingg taste

(saalouny el naas is also really good if you’d like to give it a try :] )

see even without understanding the language, i could feel all those emotions when listening to konna netlaka!! her music transcends language barriers, it's such a beautiful experience. i also just love how powerful her voice is, like it's a FORCE!!! you feel every note vibrating in your bones

i listened to saalouny el naas and wow it's poetic. it sounds like pure longing to me, melancholic love. i shall be having fairouz on repeat this winter!!

(also the album art of her here is so ethereal)