#light work saree

[studioayanasilksareesboutique]

Banarasi Handwoven Tissue Border Work Silk Sarees - Jashn

Rs. 15,499.00

Product Details:

Banaras tissue silk handwoven with zari borders and grand pallu

Gold & Silver tissue weaving all over

Contrast banaras silk blouse with coordinated borders

(as shown in last image)

The saree comes with its own blouse piece.

The one worn by the model is only for styling purpose.

Note: Colors may vary slightly from screen to screen

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Note:

Festive Collections.

Worldwide Shipping.

Domestic Shipping All Over India.

Door Step Services Available.

Ayana practises a Flat Shipping Rate concept.

Shipping rates do not change based on the weight of the total cart.

Innumerable products constitute to the same shipping cost.

If you have opted for blouse stitching, our design team will get in

touch with you within 48 hours of order confirmation for

measurements and pattern suggestions.

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[womensclothingworld]

Cotton Sarees | South Indian Sarees | Light Weight Cotton Sarees - Sundari Silks

This Kanchi Cotton Saree in an alluring shade of purple is interlaced with meticulous threadwork of kodi, jacquard designs and delightful annam buttas at the border.

Shop from: www.sundarisilks.com/collections/kanchi-cotton

Visit our website: www.sundarisilks.com/

[creamflix]

MAKE SOME NOISE FOR THE DESI BOYS! — featuring gojo, nanami, sukuna, toji, choso, geto content warnings: writing this as a way to cope with my horrible first draft of a oneshot. south asian & desi settings/culture/reference(s), certain non-english phrases or words have been written in italics. established relationship, more of character headcannons than x reader moments. lots of fluff and crack and very self indulgent.

part two!!

what’s this? it’s spicy? — every time. gojo’s arrogance would be no match for a plate of golgappa with the most fiery paani. he’d insist he could handle it, only to down half a bottle of milk and dramatically flail about. would wear a kurta to your cousin’s wedding but would make it somehow... scandalous? the kurta would be slightly unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up, showing his forearms, earning him several aunties’ stares (and jibes). absolutely insists on dancing during wedding processions. he’d make it his moment, hyping everyone up, and yes he'll even sit on your uncle’s shoulders, long limbs flailing around. if he accompanies you to a relative's house, he'd out-chat the most talkative aunty. someone needs to remind him he’s not the center of attention during mid-afternoon snack time. insists he doesn’t need or drink tea but still sips yours every single time, claiming it “just tastes better” when it’s from your hands. decides to help your mom in the kitchen one day, only to create a disaster. your mom bans him after he burns roti and mixes sugar instead of salt into daal. everytime he goes with the aunties to shop at the local markets, he always gets a few knick-knacks for you, even without asking. expect you to wear them on your dates together, duh.

nanami would be in awe of your mom's cooking. he'd sit quietly, savoring every bite, occasionally muttering, “this is exquisite.” he’d be polite to the point where he wouldn’t admit his stomach was done at a family dinner. your uncles would keep piling food on his plate, and he’d silently soldier through, sweating a little but never complaining. he’d be fascinated by your family's love for cricket and would learn the rules just to engage in conversation. next thing you know, he’s analyzing the team's batting order at 3 a.m. you’d catch him sneaking sweets from the fridge at odd hours, eyes lighting up like a kid when he discovers them stashed away. learns exactly how you like your tea and makes it for you without asking every morning. he even knows to add extra ginger when you’re sick. helps you set up lamps during diwali and insists on doing the rangoli with you, though he’s oddly meticulous and wants symmetry everywhere. tries helping you drape your saree during a family event and somehow manages to get it perfect after watching one youtube tutorial. after work, he picks up paani puri from the stall near your house because he knows it’s your favorite, even though it’s been a long day for him.

geto would become every single kid’s favorite at family gatherings. he’d let them braid his hair, play charades, and act as the mediator when they start fighting over who goes first. he’s the kind who’d sit with your grandma for hours, listening to her stories about her youth and nodding thoughtfully as if committing everything to memory. would absolutely insist on wearing a sherwani to a wedding because he respects the tradition, and he looks like he just walked off a vogue india cover. notices every detail — your earrings, your bangles, even that small bindi you put on. always manages to say something that makes you feel seen and cherished. loves watching old shahrukh khan movies with you and mimics the dramatic hand gestures, leaving you in fits of laughter. makes a mess of eating sev puri, getting imli chutney all over his fingers, but enjoys it so much that he insists on taking you for chaat every week.

sukuna refuses to admit he likes your mom’s parathas but will eat five in one sitting. he’d grumble about “why does this butter smell so good?” while scooping another bite. at first, he’d scoff at cultural events, calling them “pointless human traditions,” but eventually, you’d catch him laughing at your cousin’s bad singing or mouthing the words to a song. bhindi fry or aloo gobi would become his favorite dish. he’d demand you learn your mom’s recipe exactly as is. and god forbid, you forget the pickle. hates most people but inexplicably bonds with your uncle, the one who’s slightly tipsy at every function and making inappropriate jokes. makes you explain the 10 different kinds of pickles your mom keeps in the pantry. ends up liking lemon pickle the best but hates admitting it. accidentally steps on the edge of your saree while passing by and tries to play it cool when you glare at him, muttering, “how was i supposed to know it’s this long?” initially says, “i don’t get what’s so special about biriyani,” but after tasting your mom’s, demands she teach you exactly how to make it “or else.” always insists on driving you home from family events, saying, “your uncles are insane drivers, and i don’t trust their shortcuts.”

choso’s sweet, quiet nature would win over your aunties almost instantly. they'd call him little one and pinch his cheeks every chance they got. he’d be a sucker for gulab jamun. you’d leave him alone with a bowl, and suddenly half of it would disappear. he’d give you that guilty but adorable "did i do something wrong?" look. would love watching bollywood movies with you, but he’d always side with the villains because “they’re misunderstood.” his favorite movie is don 2. lowkey obsessed with mehndi. he’d insist you draw some on his hand for fun, sitting patiently while you doodle a peacock and floral designs. takes notes as your mom explains how to make dal tadka. later surprises you by making it, though it’s slightly too salty. gets genuinely emotional watching kabhi khushi kabhie gham, especially during the family reunion scene. refuses to admit he cried. helps you untangle strings of lights before diwali and insists on hanging them up himself so you don’t climb any ladders. sneaks sweets from the fridge at night, only to leave a sticky trail of crumbs everywhere. when confronted, he sheepishly blames the cat.

toji would absolutely love the chaos of a desi wedding. the dancing, the food, the random uncle fighting with the DJ — he’d thrive in it. shamelessly asks your mom to pack leftovers. he has zero shame about taking home an entire packet of biryani. the man can handle spice, but even he’d flinch at a particularly deadly pepper. he’d recover quickly, though, saying, “it’s good. just clears out the sinuses, ya know?” absolute menace during garba. no rhythm, no technique — just a wild flailing of arms and a massive grin. he's suprisingly good at bhangra and now everyone wants to dance with him. fixes random things around the house for your parents, like the fan or the jammed door, all while your aunties try (and fail) not to ogle him.

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[gguk-n]

Hi could please write one where the reader is bengali and celebrates Durga Puja with Lando in india ( ollie or kimi works too but I'm not sure if you write for them)?

I did a ‘spin the wheel’ and got Ollie.

Puja Vibes

Ollie was as white as white gets and his girlfriend was the embodiment of the Bengali culture prancing around. She had helped Oliver expand his horizon; taught him new experiences and delicious food. She will argue, that there’s no dessert like Bengali dessert.

So, when it was time for Y/N to return home for Durga Puja, Ollie would be joining her too since he had no races or prior commitments.

They hadn’t dated for long but Ollie had showered her with gifts on Christmas and taught her all his family traditions. Y/N just wanted to do the same for him.

At the airport, they landed together with Ollie in tow who was enamoured by the hustle and bustle of the city. He saw cows crossing the road like it was another Tuesday and no one batted an eye. Y/N pointed out all the building explaining the significance and the reason behind their construction during the colonial era on the way to her home.

At home, preparations for Durga Puja were in full swing. Y/N’s uncle and aunt had decorated their house ornately. Oliver greeted everyone.

The festivities would start the next day. Everyone was up bright and early for the invocation (bodhon) Oliver was mesmerised by the shining lights and the bright colours and the beautiful way Goddess Durga was dressed.

The main event was Maha Ashtami which Y/N’s father had great pleasure in explaining to Oliver. Oliver was like a kid in a candy store; eyes wide open and mesmerised by the events unfolding in front of him.

You would find the poor boy following Y/N around like a lost puppy. It was adorable watching him hold onto her saree palo as she walked in front of him. “Lemme hold your hand” Ollie whined. “Everyone is here for the festival. What will the elder’s think?” Y/N reasoned. In Indian culture, blatant show of affection was frowned upon especially in the older generations, the younger ones couldn’t care less. That’s why Ollie was walking around holding her palo.

They were stood next to each other while Y/N’s mother made the preparations for Maha Ashtami. “Your dress looks so beautiful. Red truly is your colour” Ollie said. “Thank you babe” she said. “How did you do this?” He asked playing with the folds. “My mum helped. I’m still pretty bad at tying a saree” she said. “Is that what it’s called? A saree” he said enunciating each word. “Yup, it’s an Indian traditional wear but everyone wraps the cloth around them differently, depending on the region of the country” she explained. His mouth formed an O in understanding.

They finished up the celebration with all the rituals being done and Oliver asking way too many questions each step of the way.

On the last day after Vijaya Dashami, after the immersion in the water everyone returned back home, exhausted by the events of the past days when Y/N’s cousin showed her a video; actually a few.

One video, had Ollie following her around like a lost puppy. The other one was of him holding her palo so as to not get lost. And the last one was straight out of a Shah Rukh Khan movie where Ollie’s watch had gotten stuck in her palo and he tried to free himself while actively trying to follow her and not let her know that he might fray her outfit. Eventually, he did free himself but his eyes never left her as he walked behind her.

She showed the video to Ollie and the Shah Rukh Khan scene from Om Shanti Om. Ollie was seen laughing, “didn’t know I would be getting my Bollywood moment this year during Puja” she said. “I’m happy I could be of service, m’lady” he said tipping his imaginary hat. “I would still have loved if it was Shah Rukh Khan” she teased. “Wow! I can’t believe this.” He acted hurt with his hand on his chest. “You are unbelievable.” She muttered pressing her lips on his cheeks. “Don’t try to bribe me with kisses” he huffed. “I’m not. I love you my cute little bear” she cooed. “I’m not cute” he huffed again. “Sure, my rasgulla” she laughed pinching his cheeks. “I like that dessert. Can I have some more?” He replied lost in thought. “I’m sure my mother will find great pleasure in feeding you” she said laughing. “Let’s go” she said pulling him along. “I love you Y/N.” Ollie called out while being dragged along. “I love you too” she replied turning to look at him.

Y/N’s family cooed at them, young love

Hope you liked it! I tried my best

[cameronsprincess]

Idk if you can make this into a fic (if you can please do so) but I just wanted to share this thought: so it’s starting to get colder outside and the pogues suggest going in the hot tub but you don’t get and just sit on a chair nearby and then you’re offered a drink and you decline and then you’re offered some weed and decline and someone is like “y/n not going in the hot tub, not drinking, not smoking, you pregnant or something” in a joking tone but then you just smile at jj and everyone realizes that you are and you tell jj that you were gonna tell him tonight before you guys went to sleep.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of alcohol and weed, jj fluff!🥰

loved this request, unsure how i feel about my execution of it, hopefully i did it justice, i loooove me some jj fluff 🥺🤍

“It’s cold out here, who wants to get in the hot tub?” you hear John B ask.

All of your friends had excitedly nodded at the idea, rushing inside to get themselves ready, no one noticing that you had remained seated. You crossed your arms, rubbing your hands up the sides of your arms as you waited on your friends to return.

JJ was the first to emerge back outside, his face pulled into a frown when he noticed you hadn’t moved from your spot.

“What’s wrong princess, don’t wanna join us in the Cat’s Ass?”

You giggle at the horrendous name he’d given the hot tub, shaking your head as you lift your head to meet his blue eyes.

“No i’m okay”

JJ frowns more, plopping in the chair beside you and placing a warm hand on your clothed thigh.

“Is somethin’ wrong?”

You give him a small smile, placing your hand on top of his large one.

“No ‘m fine, promise”

He nods his head, ultimately letting the subject go and hopping into the hot tub, all of your friends joining him shortly after.

-

“Y/N are you sure you don’t wanna join us?” Sarah asks, her arms tossed over the side of the tub.

“No i’m okay Sare, thank you though”

Your friends glanced around at one another, their eyes finally landing on JJ who just gives them a small shrug.

“I’m gonna go grab some beers, J, you still rollin’ up?” John B asks as he pulls himself from the tub, quickly wrapping a towel around himself.

“Yeah already got some rolled, we’ll light one up when you get back”

John B grins widely, giving a small nod and rushing into the chateau, reappearing minutes later with 6 beers in hand. He begins passing the beers out, slowly walking toward you last, offering you the final beer.

You awkwardly cough, shaking your head ‘no’. “ ‘M good JB, thank you though”

John B narrows his eyes, his head tilted slightly to the side, “What’s up with you Y/L/N? You’ve never been one to turn down a cold beer, or time in the hot tub”

You awkwardly laugh, unsure of what to say to that. You did have your reasons for declining everything so far, but you weren’t ready to speak on it, not until you talked to JJ first.

“I’m just not feeling the best” you lie, but it wasn’t a complete lie, you hadn’t been feeling like yourself lately.

“Well are you at least gonna smoke with us? That might help!” Kiara chimes in, the joint in her hand as she takes a small puff of the substance.

“No, I-I’m okay”

Your friends were beginning to make it very hard to keep your secret, offering you all the things they knew you loved but couldn’t partake in at the moment.

Pope chuckles, “What, are you pregnant or something? No hot tub, no beer, no weed”

His tone was joking, but the smile on your face and the soft look you’d given JJ was confirmation enough for everyone.

“Wait- You’re pregnant?” JJ asks, hopping up and out of the tub, rushing to your side quickly.

He drops to his knees, his arms flying around your waist as he rests his head softly on your stomach.

You run your fingers through his soft blond locks, “Yeah, I just found out today. I was gonna tell you before we went to bed tonight, but I guess now works too”

You hear the whoops and hollers from your friends, everyone rushing from the tub and surrounding you and JJ. You felt your eyes well up with tears, the happiness surrounding you making your heart swell.

JJ chokes out a laugh, his eyes filled with tears as well as he runs his hand over your belly, “My girl is having my baby”

You giggle, letting a tear fall from your eyes, “Yes, we’re having a baby, J”

JJ TAGLIST: @rafeism @ivy-34 @writingjjfics @always-reading @jesssssmaybank @harrys-humble-housewife @maybankspov @immyowndefender @jjmaybankswifes-blog @wetbitchlibrary @lizcameron @xprloki @moremaybank @alexisbaumann2004 @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @thewitchesofart @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @r1vrsefx @mel119g @rafetopia @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @fayerite @drewstarkeyslut @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols

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[cherrynflowergarden]

Hello fellow desi motorsports fan🫰🏼

I want to send an ask for carlos Sainz on love fair (angst)

Carlos with a desi supermodel reader wife. They are going through a rough patch but something drastic happens and they almost part but he has a clearance and tries to win her back (does so after a lot of begging)

જ⁀➴ fractured frames || carlos sainz

an; hii fellow motorsport fan thank you so much for participating my love!!! i hope i did justice to the request :3

────🍧────

────🍧────

carlos stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse, gazing at the skyline. the city lights blurred into a puzzle of chaos, much like his thoughts. his phone lay face-down on the marble counter, unanswered messages piling up. on the screen, her name glowed persistently. the love of his life. his wife. the woman he was on the verge of losing.

their once-vivid love story now felt like a fading photograph. he couldn’t pinpoint the moment it started to unravel—was it her endless photoshoots and runway shows or his late nights at the studio? their careers, once their greatest pride, had turned into an invisible barrier neither could breach. words turned to silence, and silence became a chasm.

the final blow had come weeks ago at a gala they attended together. carlos had hoped it would be a rare moment to reconnect. he watched from the sidelines as she floated through the crowd, dazzling in a gold saree that shimmered with every movement. cameras adored her, fans swarmed her, and carlos—despite being by her side—felt like a ghost in her world.

the argument that night was explosive. and destructive.

“you don’t care about us anymore!” carlos had snapped, voice sharp with frustration.

“and you think i don’t see how distant you’ve been, carlos? you bury yourself in work to avoid facing us!” she shot back.

harsh words were said and it ended with her walking out, tears streaming down her face. the door slammed shut, echoing the silence he dreaded.

she moved back to her parents’ house shortly after, leaving carlos alone in their shared home. their marriage, once brimming with laughter, had reduced to strained texts and awkward silences during mandatory public appearances. the thought of divorce loomed unspoken but heavy between them.

on one rainy and gloomy evening, carlos received a call that sent his world into a tailspin.

“mr. sainz, there’s been an accident.”

the words hit him like a punch. she had been on her way to a fashion shoot when her car skidded on the wet roads, colliding with a truck. carlos barely heard the rest of the details as he raced to the hospital.

seeing her there—bruised, unconscious, hooked to machine tore him apart. he dropped into the chair beside her bed, gripping her hand, tears streaming down his face.

“i’m so sorry, mi vida. i never should’ve let us get here. please… wake up. i need you.” his voice cracked, the weight of his guilt suffocating him.

she woke up a few hours later, groggy but alive. her first word was his name.

he leaned closer, his heart leaping at the sound. “i’m here, mi vida. i’m not leaving.”

the accident became a turning point. while her injuries weren’t life-threatening, they required weeks of rest and recovery. he stayed by her side, tending to her needs, refusing to leave even when she insisted.

in those quiet moments—no cameras, no public personas—they found fragments of what they had lost. he read to her from her favorite novels, brought her masala chai just the way she liked it.

carlos refused to let her slip away without a fight. he knew grand gestures wouldn’t fix the cracks in their marriage, so he focused on the little things—the ways he had once shown his love for her before life got in the way. he started with handwritten notes, each one a reminder of their happiest moments. he tucked them into her bags, sent them with her morning chai, and even left one at her favorite café, where they’d spent countless evenings laughing together.

carlos made sure to support her in the ways she needed most. he showed up to her fashion shoots unannounced, quietly cheering her on from the sidelines, and sent her playlists of songs that spoke of longing, love, and hope. on her toughest days, he didn’t push her but made his presence known, offering her the comfort of silence if that’s all she needed. he wanted her to feel what he had failed to show in recent months—that she was always his priority.

“i was an idiot, jaan. i let my ego and work come before us. i see that now.”

“it wasn’t just you,” she admitted softly. “i didn’t make space for you in my world either. i was so caught up in being ‘the supermodel’ that i forgot to be your wife.”

“i’m not giving up on us,” he whispered one night as she sat on her parents’ terrace, gazing at the stars. “even if it takes years, i’ll wait for you, mi vida. you’re worth every second.” his voice broke, but his determination didn’t falter, and for the first time, she let herself believe that he meant it.

it wasn’t a grand gesture that brought them back together but a quiet moment.

“i miss you,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. he pulled her into his arms, holding her as if she might disappear. “i’ll never let you feel alone again,” he vowed.

rebuilding wasn’t easy, but they took it one day at a time. they carved out space for each other amidst their chaotic lives, learning to communicate and prioritize their relationship.

their story wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs—messy, beautiful, and worth fighting for.

────🍧────

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS DATING INDIAN!READER ── .✦

a/n: this is request (here) by anon but omg, the amount of questions and research that went into this omgg so I hope you guys enjoy and that I didn’t get anything wrong omg but literally I have like 5 Indian friends and like lots of friends around the world so I tried to ask them but all of them approved.

tags: ( batboys x Indian!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Cultural Enthusiast: Dick loves learning about your culture and asks a million questions about the history and significance behind every tradition.

Loves Indian Food: He will absolutely insist on learning how to make your favorite dishes, though he might need a few tries to handle the spice levels. "Is this mild? Because it feels like lava."

Bollywood Drama Fan: He gets hooked on Bollywood movies. Expect him to belt out romantic Hindi songs after only watching the subtitles once. His favorite genre? Over-the-top romance.

Celebrates Everything: Dick will go all out for festivals like Diwali or Holi, decorating Wayne Manor and forcing Bruce to wear a kurta. ("C'mon, Bruce, it’s festive!")

Hyping Your Look: Anytime you wear a saree, lehenga, or traditional attire, he’s speechless, openly admiring you and saying, "How am I even real to have you?"

JASON TODD ── .✦

Subtle Learner: Jason isn’t the type to ask questions outright but will quietly research your culture on his own to better understand and appreciate it.

Obsessed with Snacks: Once he tries things like samosas, pani puri, or chaat, he’ll never shut up about them and ask you to teach him how to make them. “If I learn this, I’ll never go hungry again.

Festival Protectiveness: During Diwali, he’ll hover around you to make sure you’re safe from fireworks and loud crackers. "Do you need earplugs? I don’t trust this neighborhood."

Subtle Appreciation of Traditions: He loves when you tell stories of mythologies like the Mahabharata or Ramayana, quietly finding parallels with his own struggles.

Sassy Compliments: "You look like a goddess in that outfit, and I’ll fight anyone who disagrees."

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Loves the Details: Tim is absolutely fascinated by the intricate designs of your traditional clothing and the amount of work that goes into it. He’ll compliment every embroidery or bead.

Overthinks Gifting: For festivals or birthdays, he’ll spend hours trying to find the perfect gift that honors your culture—whether it’s jewelry, sarees, or books on Indian philosophy.

Enjoys the Food Adventure: Tim has a terrible spice tolerance but will bravely try your cooking just to impress you, tearing up while saying, "This is delicious."

Cultural Festivals, Tech Edition: He’ll help set up fairy lights or use tech to create a synchronized light show for Diwali, because "plain candles are too simple."

Admires Your Strength: Tim secretly loves how strong your cultural identity is and feels inspired by your confidence in embracing your heritage.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Mutual Respect: Damian respects and admires the depth of Indian culture, especially its emphasis on family, art, and honor. He’s intrigued by the philosophical aspects.

Desi Food Connoisseur: Out of all the Batboys, Damian handles spice the best and will genuinely enjoy dishes that others would find unbearably spicy. "This is not ‘too much.’ It’s perfect."

Loves Animals in Indian Mythology: Damian will listen intently when you explain the importance of animals like cows, elephants, or even Garuda in mythology, seeing them as sacred beings.

Precise Festival Preparations: He’ll research every aspect of your traditions to ensure he participates respectfully, whether it’s helping with rangoli or lighting diyas.

Secretly Protective: If someone mocks or misrepresents your culture, Damian will not hesitate to put them in their place. "You will show proper respect, or I’ll personally ensure you regret it."

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Tries His Best: Bruce doesn’t know much about your culture at first but will make a genuine effort to learn, from attending festivals with you to eating spicy dishes without flinching even if it burns.

Helps with Family Relations: If your family is strict or protective, Bruce’s natural charm and respect will win them over. He’ll probably wear a sherwani to meet your parents.

Thoughtful Gestures: For Diwali, Bruce will make sure the Batcave and Wayne Manor are cleaned, organized, and decorated to your liking, even if it takes hours.

Admires Your Strength: Bruce will respect how deeply you hold onto your culture and traditions while navigating Gotham’s challenges, seeing it as a reflection of your inner strength.

[chokisnumber1fan]

kriti; an ode to devotion

dr. ratio x fem!reader, in which ratio finds himself absolutely smitten for a musician from earth.

content/warnings: 1.4k words, reader is very very feminine, referred to with she/her, reader is also indian and a maestro at indian classical music, i made this purely as a self-indulgent self-insert piece, religious imagery/writing, good ol’ potential ooc dr. ratio warning, he does not know ANYTHING about indian classical music or hindu culture, a few sanskrit terms used

author’s note: aaaah i can’t stop thinking about how dr. ratio would absolutely just fall in love with people passionate for their lines of work. i know this is pretty much just a self insert of my own but the thought of ratio with an s/o devoted to music or dance is so... <3

ratio feels like he’s sighed for the millionth time today. “didn’t you find someone else to do your bidding, gambler?” his question is met with a resounding and joyful nope! from aventurine, who drags him into the crowded theatre. “i had two tickets for this show because my friend was very kind. but no one else could make it on such short notice,” the blonde says, the smile never leaving his face. “so, i’m glad you came with me, doctor. ah! two empty seats! lucky us, eh?”

“whatever.”

ratio can’t say he’s the biggest fan of music— he dabbles in it from time to time, but nothing too much. it it weren’t for the gambler’s insistence, he would currently have been home and indulging in a relaxing bath; but alas, aventurine always gets what he wants. “i’m surprised you even have friends with a personality as repulsive as yours.”

“that hurt, you know,” aventurine says, clutching at his chest and forcing a pained expression onto his face. “do you really think i’m that bad?”

“no, i just think you are an idiot. or that the friends you have are equally as repulsive as you.”

the chatter around him turns into static white noise and he stares emptily at the blank stage, numbers and letters going left and right and center in his brain. the frustrating proof that the doctor had been trying to work on for weeks now is making a resurgence in his head. well, on second thought, maybe it’s not so bad that he got dragged out… perhaps, the doctor could make use of this opportunity to unplug and relax a bit. maybe the gambler isn’t so much of an idiot after all (aventurine knows, but he won’t let up).

ratio is snapped out of his daze as the curtains draw to a close, the stage now hidden behind them. a good portion of the crowd silences, in anticipation of the performance that was about to begin any second now. he heaves a sigh when the curtains reopen, a subconsciously bated breath being released.

in the middle of the stage sits a woman wearing a rich blue… robe? stole? no, it’s probably a saree, he surmises. “that’s her!” aventurine says excitedly with a gasp. “do you see her, doctor?” the soft light falling on the woman seems to reflect off of her in a subtle shine. almost like an ethereal goddess... “yes, i do, aventurine, i am not blind. i’m actually surprised you have friends from earth, of all planets.”

and ratio truly was genuinely surprised— not because he truly believed that aventurine’s personality would be an obstacle between him and his friendships, but because as far as he knew, earth was one of those tiny planets in a remote arm of the milky way galaxy. the people of earth tended to have their own cultures and gods that they worshipped instead of the aeons, and all of this differed widely between major regions on the planet. the… earthlings? well, in any case, they rarely ever travelled outside of their home planet— the maximum they usually ever went was within their planetary system. maybe they’re finally beginning to get out of their comfort zone? no one knows for sure.

the chatter of the crowd gradually dies down as three others assemble next to the woman with their instruments. she takes a sip from the bottle that lay next to her, and ratio notices the slight motion she makes with her hand. he assumes this was to get the show going, because the instrumentalists began playing their parts. they start with a monotonous and constant drone, after which the other stringed instrumentalist joins along with the harmonium player— and finally, you. ratio finds his interest piqued— he does not know much about earth and its customs and cultures.

you take a breath and you start singing. you start off slow and mellow, but ratio can feel the intensity and tempo of the performance gradually increasing— and with it, the intricacies of phrases that you’re singing. he finds it infuriatingly captivating, the way you jump through the chromatic scale with ease, like a deer prancing about in the forest. he wonders if you speak in melody.

ratio swears it’s the most masterful thing he’s ever listened to. he’s never listened to this kind of music ever in his life before, he knows nothing. it’s not as big as a choir or orchestra— and yet, he finds it amazing, the ease with which you conduct everyone with a flick of your hand. no… it’s not conducting. it seemed too unauthoritative to be. honestly, he has a lot of questions but for now he lets himself think of it simply for what it probably was— a well coordinated performance (and he would not be wrong to think of it that way either).

the skillful gliding of your voice has ratio enamoured. he finds it impressive, how easily you seem to be gliding over three octaves of notes without breaking out into as much as a sweat. he can only imagine the years and years of practice that must have gone into gaining such mastery— you make it look as easy as breathing. he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it attractive to some degree at the very least.

it takes him completely by surprise when you look in his direction and shoot your biggest most saccharine smile ever. and then he remembers about your supposed friendship with the man next to him and realises that it wasn’t for him. the gambler wasn’t lying, eh? who was ratio kidding, you didn’t even know him.

but he’s starting to become far gone. ratio isn’t a sapiosexual or whatever, by any means, even if he comes off as such. he knows that people think he would only be willing to date someone who has more phds than he does, but that’s not true at all. ratio believes that one must be passionate about anything that they choose to do. ultimately, that’s really what gets him hooked. he’s absolutely taking delight in looking at the fruits of your years of devotion to your art. and you, your performance is so enchanting it almost hurts. he feels like a dazed sailor drawn to a siren.

heh, it wouldn’t be so bad if the siren was you, he thinks, but immediately cringes at the thought afterward, discarding it into some corner of his brain he hopes to never see again.

oh, aventurine isn’t blind to any of this. he looks at the doctor’s eyes glued onto the stage with hyperfocus, and laughs. he doesn’t miss the way his grip on the armrests grow tighter and tighter, the flexing and tensing of his muscles obvious. who would’ve thought that his musician friend from earth of all people would’ve had the doctor whipped? he supposes it wasn’t a bad decision to bring ratio along, after all.

the audience bursts into thunderous clapping once you hit the end of your performance. ratio almost thought there was going to be no end to it— not that he’d complain though, it would’ve given him more time to study your performance, your art, more time to study you. “that was… that was a splendid performance. i wasn’t expecting to find myself hooked onto a musical of all things, seems like you aren’t completely bad, gambler.” ratio is completely candid with his compliment.

“oh, i know how much you enjoyed this,” aventurine says rather suggestively, catching the doctor off-guard. “hey, i’m going into the backstage to meet her— would you like to tag along?”

ratio is elated at the offer. of course he’d want to meet you, he’s got so many questions and— “sure…” his expression remains as stoic as ever. he’s always been able to count on himself but now? he hopes his deadpan image isn’t betrayed by his feelings, and he finds it so impossibly difficult to fight back the smile that’s slowly creeping onto his features as he watches you and aventurine converse like you were best friends reunited.

“this is my friend, doctor ratio!”

“oh, so you’re the doctor that everyone talks about! nice to meet you, i’m _____.”

you knew him already? well, it’s no big deal, you must have heard about him from aventurine. fuck, you look so much more heavenly up close. you’re like the manifestation of a goddess, with the way you seem to literally radiate a glow and everything. shit, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were an emanator of beauty, or an incarnation of devi saraswati (he hopes he isn’t thinking of the wrong goddess with his limited knowledge of hindu culture).

“likewise. just veritas is fine, too. that was an absolutely phenomenal performance, back then.”

veritas doesn’t know the first thing about the gods you sung the praises of during your performance, but he does think that your devotion to the art must be unmatched. he feels like you are a personification of the heavens, and he’s blind to everything that isn’t your divine beauty. there’s something so ancient about your art, and you’re almost like an envoy of the gods— aeons, you’re slowly getting him wrapped around your damn finger, and he doesn’t think he’s going to do anything to stop it.

“thank you, veritas,” you smile at him, and he feels a slight warmth. “i’ll be performing again at the grand theatre soon. you’ll be there, right?”

[allari-ammayi]

When r u going to post another chapter of butta bomma?? I just read it and I'm hooked... If possible please add me to the taglist 🥺

Hii!! Of course, I'm so glad you enjoy my work!! I was actually kind of busy with school, but I'll try to upload a little more often since I'm back now! ALSO, WE'RE SO CLOSE TO THE EVENTS OF THE FIRST MOVIE!?! AHH, I'M SO EXCITED!!! (Also, this casually might be the best chapter I've ever written)

Butta Bomma

A. Bahubali x Reader x B. Deva

#8

The Language Barrier

Synopsis: In which several misunderstandings lead to Bahubali realising that Y/n clearly needs help with understanding the Mahismathi language, so being the chivalrous person he is, he offers Y/n to appoint a language tutor for her. When Y/n finds out who her language tutor is, her life falls downhill.

10.2k Words (Buckle in)

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It was a mahimahi afternoon like any other, and as usual, everyone was indoors, busy with duties or school, which meant no one had any time to entertain the dutiless Y/n. Y/n strolled through the palace courtyard, the warmth of the sun kissing her skin as she scanned her surroundings. 

A bored sigh escaped her lips as she searched for something, anything, to alleviate her boredom. Then, like a beacon of hope, the corner of her eye spotted something far too familiar to her. Something that had gotten her in quite the mischief and trouble with the elder prince of Mahismati. 

A fruit-laden tree standing proudly in the corner of the courtyard was practically singing temptations to Y/n, telling her to approach it. No one was around, though it didn’t matter even if they were, Y/n didn't mind.

It was Bhallaladeva who tortured her and Y/n couldn’t see him anywhere, which she confirmed with a smirk. Probably busy pouring his privilege over some poor servants, Y/n thought. 

With a mischievous glint in her eye, she swiftly tucked the end of her half-saree into her waist and began her ascent up the tree. 

As Y/n reached for the fruit, stepping onto a branch and grabbing another for support, Bhallaladeva happened to be passing by. Deep in thought, Bhalla was walking to his royal chambers on a higher floor, quite fast-paced, when he caught sight of Y/n perched in the tree. 

Bhalla was so lost in thought, that he had dismissed it as something normal, even though it was, but his mind quickly snapped back into place and he gasped before he did a lighting of a double-take. 

He backtracked and leaned over the balcony railing, dumbfounded by the sight before him. His brows furrowed at the girl who had the end of her tongue sticking out as she tried to reach some fruit, and he thought to himself, ‘What the hell is this monkey doing now?!’

"What in the world are you doing up there!?" Bhalla shouted down to her, his tone a mix of disbelief and concern.

Y/n shot her face up and startled by the sudden appearance of the one person who she hoped wouldn’t catch her like this, she nearly lost grip on the branch and balance on her foot for a moment, before regaining her posture. 

Bhalla's momentary panic prompted an instinctual reaction, his hand reaching out down towards, without him even realising it before quickly retracting. Bhalla was far too high to do anything. Bhalla’s eyes were wide and a relieved sigh escaped his lips, his fleeting sense of relief washed over him when Y/n steadied herself, but it was quickly replaced by irritation at her recklessness.

"For a monkey, you have horrible tree-climbing skills, you know!" he scowled, his frustration evident in his tone.

Y/n bristled at his insult, her own temper flaring in response. "It's none of your business what I'm doing up here!" she shot back, her voice tinged with defiance.

"What do you mean? I saw you climbing the tree like a lunatic!" Bhalla retorted, his frustration mounting at Y/n’s audacity, 

Y/n was confused by his anger. Not even Bhalla realised how frustrated he was. It hadn’t even occurred to him how worried he was for some fruit-obsessed monkey. 

Y/n glared up at him, “As I said, your royal snarkiness, none of your business!” Y/n sounded each of the last four words out and ended her retort with a bang. Bhalla could almost applaud her audacity. 

“Well, I’ll have you know, stranger from the ‘far land of Mexico’, As the elder Prince of Mahismathi, everything that happens within the kingdom’s walls is quite literally my business!” He shouted back down at her, gripping the railing of the balcony. 

Y/n ground her teeth in utter annoyance. Why did this prince have to constantly involve himself in everything Y/n-related!?

“Ugh!” Y/n exclaimed, balling her free hand into a fist, “This doesn’t even concern you, you nosy prince!” Bhalla was quite taken aback when he heard this. His brows furrowed and his lips parted. 

“Nosy?” Bhalla muttered to himself, “What the hell did she mean ‘Nosy’? Me - Nosy?” Bhalla rubbed his nose absent-mindedly, assuming Y/n had insulted his nose. Bhalla, confused, questioned for a moment whether Y/n’s monkey brain was causing her blindness.

“I think you’d be delighted to know Monkey, that I am considered, if not,” Bhalla shouted, “One of Mahismathi’s most handsome men with a perfectly sculpted nose!” Y/n looked at Bhalla like he was an idiot, a mild hint of confusion crossed her face at Bhalla’s strange response.

“What is this man-whore even on about?” She muttered to herself, Bhalla leaned down the balcony to signal to Y/n that he didn’t hear what she said, Confusion clouded Bhalla's features as he struggled to make sense of Y/n’s words.

“That’s great to know Your Highness, be sure to tell that to the next person you’re off to torture, however, it does nothing to help the situation at hand!” She shouted back, her throat starting to hurt with the shouting she had to do to keep the conversation.

“What?” Bhalla shouted,

“I said, you royal-!” Y/n, a little too passionate about what she was going to say, had paid no mind to which branch she grabbed, and rather than grabbing the one that would prevent her demise, Y/n put her weight onto the twig-like branch. 

“Hey-!” Bhalla tried to call out her stupid move, reaching his hand far out, but it was too late. The twig snapped with a horrifying sound and with Y/n putting her weight on it, her leg slipped. Bhalla’s heart practically stopped, his eyes were wide in horror and he was not breathing, but instead, staring in terror. 

But Y/n was a smart young girl, very capable of tree-climbing. Before she could fall to her potential death, her reflexes caused her to grab hold of the branch she had slipped from. 

Y/n was hanging for her life and with one quick swing, she was back on her feet, on the branch. Bhalla felt his heart alleviate as he placed a hand on his extremely fast-beating heart. His eyes closed in relief as a relieved sigh escaped him.

“As I was saying-” Y/n began, putting a finger up, but before she could say another word, Bhalla had silenced her with the look on his face. 

Y/n could feel his anger in the form of heat all the way down from where she was. Bhalla said nothing, but simply pointed down, instructing her to immediately get off the tree. Y/n frowned.

“What!? Why?” Y/n attempted to retort, but Bhalla was having none of it, his hands balled into fists and in a heavy authority manner, pointed to the sky and in a powerful voice said,

“As the elder prince of Mahismathi, I command you to step down now!” Y/n glared.

“No.” She spat, quietly like a stubborn child, but Bhalla heard exactly what she said. 

“Y/n of the far land of Mexico, I swear to god, the sky, the very earth of this kingdom which I will soon rule and all that is holy, if you don’t step down from the tree right now, I will do something that will make you regret having ever climbed that tree,” This sent a shiver through Y/n’s spine and she grinned.

“Oh yeah, What exactly is it you’ll do Your Highness?” She smirked. Bhalla expression of pure anger dissolved into a cruel and evil smirk, shivering Y/n to her bone. Bhalla’s smirk was dangerous.

“I’ll have this and every other mango tree in Mahishmati cut down immediately.” Bhalla said victoriously, “Fruits can be grown of course, outside of kingdom walls, where you’ll never be able to reach them.” 

Bhalla’s grin widened when Y/n gulped and immediately began her descent from the tree. He placed his elbows on the railing as he watched Y/n descend, his grin growing wider at the silly girl. When Y/n reached the ground, Bhalla smirked and began walking away without another word, except for one final warning, 

“And if you ever decide to climb another tree when there’s no one around, I hope you’re ready to bid goodbye to them all together!” He shouted loud enough for her to hear, not turning back and simply walking straight ahead. Y/n watched Bhalla’s retreating figure and glared, her brows furrowing and the frustration and heat in her body increased. As Bhalla left, Y/n stuck her tongue out at him and poked faces at him. Bhalla smiled to himself, knowing exactly what Y/n was doing, despite not even being able to see her. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Erm, that’s very interesting, Bahu, do tell more…” Y/n pathetically muttered. She and Gowri were on a walk when Y/n was noticed by Bahubali who had approached her for a chat. 

Their initial greetings and formalities quickly made way for Bahu's long talks about Mahimsathi’s politics. All it took was for Y/n to ask Bahu how he was doing, for him to say, tired, and for Y/n to ask, oh no, why so? 

That was all it took for Bahu to begin his long complex talk about Mahismati’s political structure and his duties as prince. Bahu was talking way too quickly, using words Y/n had never even heard of that surely didn’t exist where she came from, rambling about politics. 

“And of course, you’d know the grand chancellor, one of the few who stood by Queen Mother when she first ascended the throne. I’d assumed he would stand by the new act that stated the opposite of what we have been following as a kingdom for over sixty years, despite how horrible it was, but he instead stood against it. 

He claimed that it was practically a tradition, but what does he know, that old nut. I reckon he only stood by Queen Mother, fearing death.” Baahubali rambled, so fast, so quick, so complex, Y/n was lucky if she caught one or maybe even two words of what he was saying. She was simply laughing nervously and nodding, hoping that he wasn’t asking her any questions. 

“Haha, yeah, yeah, true that,” Y/n muttered, her jaw starting to hurt from the way she was smiling so widely. 

“But of course, you agree with me, the grand chancellor was even against keeping you here, stating you could’ve been a foreign imposter, trying to get into our secrets and then backstab us. But you’re lucky that no one stood by him on that one or they would’ve voted to have you killed. Took a lot of convincing but he relented to letting you stay, but you’re a lucky one, the majority was quite all right with you staying, but to be honest, they also thought you were some kind of holy angel sent by the gods to save you and to have you tried or to even suspect you of misdeed would be a horrible sin. It’s actually kind of funny, but you do of course look like angels so I wouldn’t blame them too much,” Bahu gave a little shy laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from Y/n, a slight pink tinge appearing on him. Y/n simply smiled and nodded.

‘Just smile and nod,’ Y/n thought, ‘Smile and nod.’ 

“And later today, you have a meeting with the council, your Highness, and following that-” As Y/n and Bahu were engaged in their conversation, a certain other royal happened to walk by them in the balcony opposite them. 

Bhalla, who had a dozen servants following behind him, informing him of his schedule for the day was walking close by. The servant struggled to keep up with Bhalla’s fast pace but when Bhalla noticed a certain mischief-maker from the corner of his eye, he looked in Y/n’s direction and found a monkey. 

He grinned, ready to throw a casual snarky remark her way when he noticed Bahubali and her engaged in a conversation. Bhalla grimaced but when he saw the awkward and nervous look on Y/n’s face and her obvious look of struggle, Bhalla raised an eyebrow, a look of mild confusion glazing over his features. 

At once, he raised a hand, signalling for the servants to keep quiet for a moment. The servants, instantly understanding, immediately shut up and stepped back when Bhalla motioned for them to leave with a wave of his hand. The servants immediately left after handing Bhalla a scroll of his lined-up events that he held his hand out for. 

Bhalla narrowed his eyes in an attempt to make out what was happening as he opened the scroll and held it up in front of his face to hide him from his brother’s and Y/n’s view. He occasionally took peeks from the side or the top of the scroll, attempting to unpuzzle the look on Y/n’s face. 

“But as I was saying, I’m starting to think it’s about time that the chancellor retired and spent time with his grandkids rather than trying to protect the ‘traditions’ of Mahismathi. But it’s good to know not a lot of people support him anymore. He used to have a whole horde of people who had his back, but, you know, as people age, they start to lose support. It’s normal, but of course, you would know all this, am I right, being from such a small kingdom that there’s barely any texts or information about ‘the far land of Mexico’? Speaking of which, I’d love to visit the far land of Mexico one of these days, it seems like a wonderful place if someone like you is from it. When do you reckon is the best time for me to go?” Bahu asked and Y/n smiled, laughed and nodded. 

“Ha ha… Yeah… Of course, yes…” Bahu raised an eyebrow.

“So…?” He asked, tilting his head, “Are you going to answer me or what?” He laughed. Y/n gulped, her worst fears came to life and he did ask a question. Y/n’s brows furrowed and her eyes ran across the room,

“Erm… That sounds very interesting, Bahu, I’m sure Mahismati politics are very tiring.” Y/n answered plainly like a machine, hoping her extremely plain and neutral tone somehow managed to answer Bahu’s question. Bahu’s confused look had instantly dissolved, only to be replaced by an understanding grin. 

Bahu had Y/n figured out. He’d suspected something like this from the start, but only now was his theory confirmed.

There had to be some kind of slight language barrier between him and Y/n. Between Y/n and Mahismathi. That’s why there had always been a slight struggle to help Y/n fit into Mahisamthi. How could she fit in if she didn’t even know how to fully communicate with others? 

Bhalla, who had been watching this whole situation unfold, also instantly understood Y/n’s situation. But rather than a caring grin appearing on his face like Bahu’s, a much more evil and cruel smirk began to form. 

Oh, he was going to have a blast. Bhalla sniggered to himself but when Y/n’s eyes flew over to where Bhalla stood, Bhalla shot to the side to hide himself behind a pillar. When Y/n looked back at a smiling Bahu, Bhalla turned back and with a plan in his head, left the two. 

Following Bhalla’s departure, Bahu, not wanting to stress the nervous Y/n out, moved the conversation to something she could easily talk to him about, making sure Y/n didn’t realise what he was doing. 

Bahu, like Bhalla, also had a plan in his mind. The only difference was, was that the elder prince planned to endlessly tease the poor girl about her language skills, while the younger planned to summon a literacy tutor for Y/n sometime. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As Y/n did when she had nothing better to do, which was most of the time, she sat by the pond, cutting a mango for herself. She admired the pond’s surface and its fish, peace filling her up until she heard a certain agonising voice. 

“Quite the pond, eh, Monkey?” Y/n suppressed a groan but allowed herself to roll her eyes, her peaceful state instantly being replaced by one of annoyance.

“Yes, it’s definitely a pond, your snarkiness, 10 points for your observation skills,” Y/n muttered. Bhalla neared and leaned his shoulder against the large rock that Y/n sat by, as he folded his arms and slightly crossed his legs, standing.

“Quite truly I must say, this is probably one of the most stunning ponds on the palace grounds, truly serene and so beautifully formed, like the eye of a jewel, something like the art of work you would expect from a mastermind like Vishwakarma. Personally, I truly enjoy his works,” 

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. What was Bhalla talking about? Why was he talking like this? So fast and with words Y/n had never heard of. Bhalla, as Y/n had observed through her stay and from watching Bahubali movies, was a person who took his time to get his point across. 

“Tell me, stranger from ‘the far land of Mexico’, which of Vishwakarma’s works do you admire the most?” Bhalla grinned victoriously as Y/n stared at him, dumb-founded.

“W-What?” 

“Oh pardon my rudeness, I completely forgot to mention which Vishwakarma I was even conversing with you about. My tastes in architecture extend far beyond Mahismathi architects, to the points of heavenly ones, and when I mention Vishwakarma, I assure you, I meant the craftsman deity and the divine architect of the devas.” 

Y/n stared at him with a blank look. When Bhalla’s smirk grew, the realisation hit her like a meteor and she frowned. 

“Ha ha, very mature you snarkiness, mocking someone for simply not knowing a language.” Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Ah, the wit of a commoner. How refreshing.” Bhalla said, looking up at the sky, before looking back down at the girl, “Tell me, monkey, do you practice your sarcasm in front of the mirror every morning, or does it come naturally?"

"Why, thank you for noticing. I do take pride in my quick tongue. Can't say the same you would feel for your quick temper." She added, quietly. Bhalla gave a look of offence.

“Temper? I'll have you know, Monkey, I'm as cool as a cucumber compared to the hot-headed peasants I deal with on a daily basis."

"Oh, I'm sure. But let's not pretend you're not just a spoiled prince who's used to getting his way." She seethed.

"Spoiled?” Bhalla gave a hollow laugh, “Hardly. I've had to fight tooth and nail for everything I have. Can't say the same for someone who spends her days lounging by a pond, cutting mangoes." Y/n gaped at his audacity, her patience having run dry.

“Well, at least I'm not using my power to intimidate foreigners with my language. Can't say the same for you, can we?!” 

With that final bang, Y/n shot up from her spot, and gave one final annoyed glance to Bhalla, before storming away. Bhalla stared at her retreating figure and gave a soundless, light chuckle.

Blinded by her own fury, it didn’t take Y/n long before she bumped head-first into the younger prince. 

Bahubali caught her by the arm and gently helped her back onto her feet. 

“Oh, hi Bahu…” Y/n greeted awkwardly with a nervous chuckle. Bahu grinned.

“What seems to be the matter, Y/n you seem a lot more on on fire today than usual,” Bahu gave a light chuckle.

Y/n fidgeted with her half-sari and glanced around to make sure no one was around, before looking back up at him.

“You see, it's just that…” Y/n gulped, and Bahu leaned in closer, “I just have a bit of trouble with communication here. The way I spoke back in my time- I mean–! Back in my kingdom is pretty different to how people speak in Mahismathi.” Bahu nodded along, understandingly,

“I see,” He urged her to go on,

“And someone seems to have understood that, and now won’t stop mocking me for it,” Y/n said, annoyed at just the thought of Bhalla. Bahu smiled.

“I see Bhalla has also figured out your language barrier,” Bahu said, thoughtfully. Y/n went red in the face,

“You mean-!?”

“Well,” Bahu gave a sigh, “it’s not the most unobvious thing in the world. I actually only figured it out this morning.” Y/n, still red in the face, threw her face into her hands out of embarrassment. “Oh, Y/n,” Bahu gave her a calming rub on her back,

Y/n looked up at Bahu,

“How about I arrange a language tutor for you?” Bahu suggested, and Y/n’s eyes went wide. She remembered her etiquette tutor that Bhalla had arranged for her and she shook her head like her world depended on it, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Respectfully, absolutely not.” Y/n said, adamant. 

Bahu’s eyes softened, “I promise I’ll pick out someone who’s truly willing to get on level with you.” He said sweetly looking down at Y/n with such caring eyes that made her swear she could have swooned. Bahu’s eyes brought her way back to when she watched Varsham for the first time.

Y/n gave a nervous and hollow chuckle, “A-Alright, Bahu, if you say so.” As much as she tried to avoid eye contact with the Prince, she simply could not look away from his eyes. The same eyes that had all the ladies in the nation in a chokehold for almost two decades.

“Brilliant, I’ll have someone- top of the class- picked out for you, and you can begin your tutoring as soon as this weekend!” He announced joyously.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Ah, if it isn't the wandering scholar from 'Mexico.' How fares your study of our culture, Monkey?" Y/n spun around on her heel to face the one person whom she was most delighted to meet. 

"Quite well, your royal snarkiness. I've learned a lot, especially about how not to treat people." Y/n said, her voice flowing with glee over the aspect that soon, she would start attending language classes and eventually wouldn’t be the object of Bhalla's ridicule.

"Oh, delightful. In that case, allow me to expand your knowledge further.” Bhalla grinned, "Indeed, one must ponder the intricate complexities and unparalleled magnificence of this realm’s architectural splendour, meticulously crafted by hands of exceptional prowess and minds of unparalleled brilliance. Perchance, your intellectual faculties may find themselves inadequate in grasping such sublime intricacies."

Y/n narrowed her eyes in frustration, "Are you serious? Again with the fast-talking? Very mature, Bhalla."

“What's the matter? I thought you were here to learn. Surely a scholar like you can keep up." He smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

Y/n groaned, "I'm here to learn, not to decipher your verbal puzzles. But I suppose that's too much to expect from someone who takes pleasure in mocking others."

Bhalla smiled, mockingly, "Mocking? Oh no, this is merely a lesson. Think of it as... advanced study."

Y/n narrowed her eyes in mock confusion, "Advanced study? More like a desperate attempt to show off. What's wrong, Bhalla? Need to feel superior to someone?"

"Superior? Hardly. Just demonstrating the vast chasm between our respective eruditions. But don’t worry, Monkey, you’ll bridge it. Eventually."

"The only chasm here is the one in your manners. But I suppose that's too much to ask from a prince who's used to getting his way."

"Ah, so quick with the barbs. Maybe there's hope for you yet. But tell me, how does it feel to be out of your depth?" Bhalla leaned down a little to get on level and face to face with Y/n, who narrowed her eyes,

“Out of my depth? Please. I've handled more complex things than your inflated ego."

"Ego? It’s not ego if it’s justified. But I understand if it's hard for you to grasp that, given your… limited experience." Bhalla said with a tone of judginess, eying Y/n up and down.

"Limited experience? Says the man who’s spent his life behind palace walls. Try stepping out into the real world for a change."

"The real world? I’ve seen more of it than you ever will, Monkey. But don’t worry, I’m sure your books will keep you company." Bhalla said pathetically, in a pitiful tone, riling Y/n up even more.

"Better books than the company of a conceited prince. At least books don't talk back with meaningless drivel."

"Meaningless drivel? Perhaps to you. To those who understand, it's wisdom. But you’ll get there. One day."

"I’ll pass, thanks. I prefer my wisdom to come without the side of arrogance." She said with a huff.

"Call it confidence. But I forget, you're not used to dealing with people of my stature."

"And you're not used to dealing with people who see through your facade. But don't worry, I’ll be here to remind you." Y/n gave a caring smile, dripping with sarcasm.

"I look forward to it, Monkey. Your attempts at wit are... entertaining if nothing else."

"Glad to be of service, your royal snarkiness. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than waste my time with a pompous prince." Before Y/n could leave, she turned to face Bhalla one last time, the enthusiasm back in her eyes, “Besides, your royal snarkiness, I suggest you enjoy mocking my tongue while it lasts.” Yn/ said victoriously, before leaving. Bhalla stared at her, confusion gripping him.

“What?” He asked himself, “Monkey! Get back here at once and explain what you mean!” He shouted, but Y/n, too far to care, went her way.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Ah, Bhalla, there you are,” Bahu called to his cousin, Bhalla, who had arrived at the training area, following his confused exchange with Y/n.

“Bahubali.” Bhalla greeted, his mind still straying to the thought of what Y/n might’ve meant.

“I see you’re a bit distracted today,” Bahubali questioned when the duo began their swordplay. Bhalla wasn’t as sharp that day, his moves were slower, and he was clearly distracted by something. 

“Oh, yes, I suppose so,” Bhalla said, looking over at Y/n in the distance who was happily chatting away with her friends while eating fruit. 

“Care to share why, Your Highness?” Bahubali asked with a grin, as he let out a groan, successfully hitting Bhalla’s sword to the point of his defeat.

Bhalla picked up his sword and stepped towards Bahubali, who listened kenly,

“Do you know what’s going on with that monkey today?” Bhalla asked, directing his gaze towards the bubbly Y/n. Bahubali followed Bhalla’s gaze until his eyes landed on Y/n. 

“Oh, Y/n.” Bahu said, 

“Yeah- That- That girl. Y/n monkey or l/n or whatever. Do you what’s gotten into her today?” Bhalla asked, his patience a little more dry than usual. Bauhbali looked at Bhalla, smiling,

“Ah, I see she’s mentioned it to you. She’s definitely a little more happy today because of it, huh?” Bhalla’s eyes shot to Bahu as they returned to their sparring positions, starting another round of swordplay.

“Mentioned what?” Bhalla asked, his usual sparing skills faltering.

“I’ve arranged a literature tutor for her, to help her learn our language better after I saw how distressed she was at not being able to fit in.” With what Bahu said, Bhalla’s sword move failed, causing Bahu to effortlessly win another round.

“What??” Bhalla narrowed his eyes in confusion.

At the very lowest pit of Bhalla’s stomach, a weird feeling began brewing. A strange feeling, that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Perhaps it was frustration, Bhalla thought. But why? He doesn’t know. 

Why was he feeling frustrated that Bahubali had arranged Y/n's language tutoring lesson without him knowing and that Y/n seemingly was able to confide in Bahu about her troubles and not Bhalla when in reality none of this concerned him and it was none of his business? Especially when considering that Bhalla tended to be the root of most of Y/n’s problems. 

But Bhalla still felt frustrated. He didn’t even know why. 

Any normal person could have immediately figured out that it could even possibly be... Slight jealousy? But Bhalla was not a normal person. 

Was he frustrated that Y/n felt she could confide about her language issues in Bahu and not him? And how she seemingly instantly accepted help when Bahu offered and how Bahu took it upon himself to offer her the classes.

Bhalla, overcome with this unknown emotion, looked back at Bahu and said, “That monkey doesn’t need a tutor,” 

Bhalla didn’t even know why he was interfering in this matter, which didn’t even affect him. But he couldn’t help it. Bahubali’s eyebrows furrowed lightly.

“What’s wrong bhalla?” Bahu asked, “Besides, how will Y/n ever blend in if she doesn’t even speak the tongue?”

Bhalla, in a fit of ‘frustration’ and impatience, proceeded to say something so impulsively, that it hadn’t even registered in his head.

“Whatever, I’ll take it upon myself to teach her, alright!?”

Bhalla hadn’t even realised what he said till a smile grew on Bahubali’s face.

“Even better. I promised Y/n I would get her someone who could get on level with her.” Bahubali said, “If you will excuse me, brother, I must go and inform the tutor that he need not teach Y/n anymore.”

As Bhalla observed Bau’s leaving figure, he finally understood what he said, his eyes wide. 

‘Oh my god, what the hell did I just do’ Bhalla thought, face-palming.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

And so, for the week that followed, Y/n wasted not a single chance to flaunt to Bhalla that soon, she would also be on his level in terms of language. Her lessons were the only thing she could think about as her brain overflowed his excitement and anticipation. 

Bhalla on the other hand, didn’t know whether to laugh or sob, because only he and Bahu knew that he was the ill-fated person to teach Y/n the ways of the Mahismathi tongue. 

Y/n, however, had no clue who her teacher was. Bahubali, during another encounter with Y/n, did mention to her that someone else had volunteered to tutor her. Someone very highly prestigious and even overqualified. The news filled Y/n with so much joy that she wrapped her arms around Bahubali, giving him a very sweet goodbye as he left on a mission that Sivagami assigned him to.

Y/n was overjoyed and didn't shy away from any opportunity to rub it into Bhalla’s face, unknown to her that this ‘Overqualified, and highly prestigious’ person was the last person she wanted to see.

So on the fated day of Y/n’s first class, she excitedly hopped to the grand palace library.

The library, usually full of hustle and bustle with scholars and such running around, being pitch quiet should’ve been her first red sign. But Y/n went on, her determination unmatched. She tip-toed inside the empty library and ventured far deep in, hoping to find her tutor. Y/n looked around the empty and somewhat eerie library when she felt something smack her on the back of her head from behind. 

“Ow!” Y/n turned around, and when she did, she wished she hadn’t. There stood, the last person she wanted to see. 

Bhallaladeva. The elder son of the queen of Mahismathi Sivagami Devi, and the only son of Bijjaladevi. 

Y/n’s eyes went wide when she saw Bhallaladeva stand there, unpleasantly grumpy as he crossed his arms.

“What’re you doing here?” She bitterly spat, 

Bhallaladeva eyed her, “This happens to be my family library, so I could dance here if I wanted to.” He said, just as bitterly. 

Y/n, sensing the oncoming verbal sparring between her and Bhalla, quickly dismissed him, not wanting to waste her time, “Whatever, your snarkiness, I have better things to be doing right now like finding my tutor,” She said, grumpily.

Before she could huff and stomp away, Bhallaladeva, in a dead and annoyed voice said,

“The tragic fate of being your tutor, monkey, is unfortunately my own.”

“What??” Y/n turned around, her eyes narrowing in both confusion and annoyance at Bhalla’s use of the ancient tongue.

“Oh right, you’re an idiot.” Bhalla said, “What I meant to say, monkey, is that the unlucky man who’s your tutor? That’s me.”

Y/n’s mouth fell open at once and all that dread she couldn’t even comprehend came flooding back.

“WHAT!?” She screamed at once, her mind too occupied to give any mind to being quiet. Bhalla stared at her, unimpressed, “You’re the over-qualified, prestigious, highly-exclusive volunteer who never gives anyone lessons?” Bhalla sighed,

“Well, what do you expect? I’m the elder prince for goodness sake. I received the highest quality of education and clearly, one on this planet is boss enough to be tutored by the prince.” He said, before eyeing the furious Y/n with boredom, “Well, clearly except you of course. Congratulations, monkey, how do you feel, being the first person ever to have the prince spend his precious hours teaching you language?” 

“It feels bloody awful!” Y/n seethed, her anger now replacing her excitement.

“Same here,” Bhalla said quietly, annoyed. Y/n spun on her heel at once and headed back to the front of the library, “Oi monkey, where’re you going??”

Y/n spun back to face Bhalla briefly, “If you must know, I’m going to visit Bahubali, and tell him that I will NOT have you as my tutor and that I’d be willing to be tutored by literally any other living being in this kingdom than you!” She shouted.

Bhalla grimaced, “I expect you’ll have some trouble with that considering now that Bahubali has been sent on a quest to a different region,” Y/n’s frown fell and she remembered Bahubali telling her about his mission.

“So what does that mean,” Y/n said in a breathless voice.

“That, monkey, means either you wait a month for him to return, which you clearly seem incapable of, or you’re stuck with me for two weeks,” Bhalla said, almost somewhat enjoying Y/n’s suffering.

Y/n rolled her eyes and groaned, “Please just end my misery,” she said pathetically as she smacked her forehead, walking towards a table near the back of the library.

Bhalla grinned as he watched her go, “This’ll be fun.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

And so began Y/n’s lessons with Bhallaladeva. To say Bhalla was a strict teacher was a heavy understatement. Bhalla’s teaching methods made Y/n’s old etiquette teacher look easygoing. Bhalla forced Y/n to be up and at it by four in the morning, and only let her go to bed at eleven, under the condition that she had finished her work. The only breaks she would receive were thirty minutes every three hours, and breakfast, lunch and dinner were all also served in the library. 

Bhalla always spoke too fast and preferred to teach by pacing around with a textbook in one hand and the other hand behind his back, often causing Y/n to not understand a single thing, resulting in her struggling to focus and badly failing every simple assignment. 

Yes, Bhala always did get on Y/n’s bad side but this was a whole new level. Y/n had never seen such a strict and focused side to Bhalla unless he was training. Yes, that’s what he reminded her of. Him when he was training. He was so concentrated and fast, that at some point Y/n simply gave up. 

Near the end of the first week of their lessons, following Y/n’s silent defeat in making an attempt to understand anything, the severe lack of sleep finally caught up to her. 

As usual, Bhalla walked back and forth, reading from a textbook as he lectured Y/n- except that’s what he thought was happening. Y/n, however, had long gone asleep. Y/n’s only justifications were that:

a.) Bhallaladeva was insane

b.) Sleeping for only four to five hours a night for a week ought to make anyone fall asleep mid-day

c.) Bhallaladeva was insane

d.) Her tutor didn’t even teach properly.

e.) Bhallaladeva was insane

f.) Having nothing truly stimulating was of course going to make her fall asleep.

Also, Bhallaladeva was insane.

But Y/n was a smart girl, if she was going to break rules and casually fall asleep in class, she had to do it the right way. She positioned herself in a perfect form that made her look like she was crouched over writing when in reality she was fast asleep. 

Bhallaladeva, who was too busy reading off of scrolls, hadn’t noticed for the first thirty minutes of Y/n falling asleep, but when almost an hour had passed, and Y/n made no effort to make any snarky remark, sarcastic sentence or a single annoyed groan, Bhalla grew suspicious.

“I’m surprised you’ve been able to go an hour without a single jab, monkey. Impressive.” Bhalla said, standing in front of Y/n, authoritatively. When Y/n failed to respond, owing to the fact that she was strolling somewhere in dreamland, Bhalla raised an eyebrow.

“Really? No sarcastic retort?” He questioned her, but when Y/n kept her potion the same, Bhalla felt something was off, “What’re you even writing with that amount of focus, I’m not even saying anything relevant for you to write?” 

Again, no response from Y/n. Bhalla’s brows furrowed and he used a rolled-up scroll to poke Y/n’s head. When nothing happened, he pushed a bit of her hair off her face and tucked it in behind her hair, and what he saw made his eyes go wide with shock.

That little monkey was asleep.

As annoyed as Bhalla was at her audacity, he couldn’t help a little smile that grew on his lips. Y/n’s face was so calm and serene, not many times before had he seen her face like that. Generally, when he did, it was because she hadn’t seen him. The only expressions Bhalla saw on Y/n when they talked were either annoyance or outright rage, but to be fair, he was the one who kept provoking the girl. It was a weird joy if you could call it even that. If even Bhalla knew why he kept poking and prodding her every day. Was it to get a reaction out of her? Perhaps because she was the only one who gave him that type of reaction. No one else in the kingdom would be daring enough to treat Bhalla the way Y/n treated him. 

Her breathing was so serene and her facial features were that of a rabbit. Bhalla’s finger, which was still behind Y/n’s ear from when he tucked her hair back, slid down her cheek slightly.

She sure had soft skin. Very… Very pretty. 

Bhalla smiled softly, without realising it. He was lost in the trance of Y/n’s sleeping face but was instantly brought back to earth with the flicker of a candle. Bhalla shot up straight and looked around, giving an awkward cough. He gulped and looked back at Y/n, a frown forming on his face.

Now what to do with this sleeping monkey? 

Bhall grinned, before reaching down to Y/n’s level. His lips hovered over her ear before he let out the scream of an army general entering battle.

“FIRE!!”

Y/n’s entire figure shook awake at once, startled. 

“FIRE!?” Her eyes were wide and she was covered in a cold sweat, her eyes prancing around, looking for the fire. When she failed to see a fire, she looked back at Bhalla, who had his arms crossed with a menacing look on his face, standing in front of her.

“Had a nice nap in the middle of my lecture, Monkey?” Bhalla said, sourly, “You know, many would kill to have the elder prince of Mahismathi give them free private literature lessons.” He said, narrowing his eyes at the girl who was trying to regain her breath.

Y/n looked back up at him, her eyes narrowed with annoyance leaking out of her every pore. 

Bhalla observed her face, the serenity he saw earlier was gone, replaced by the Y/n he constantly picked catfights with. 

“You say ‘elder prince of Mahismathi’ quite often, your royal snarkiness but you don’t seem to be showing it in actions, anywhere.” She spat,

"Is that so? Perhaps you’re too distracted by your penchant for daydreaming to notice my brilliance." Bhalla gloated,

Y/n stared at his audacity, "Brilliance? More like tediousness. Your lectures could put a hyperactive child to sleep."

"Ah, I see. The problem lies with my teaching style, not with the inattentive student who can’t keep her eyes open." Bhalla retorted,

"Maybe if you made your lessons half as interesting as you make your insults, I’d stay awake." Y/n jabbed back, her anger at Bhalla for the past week starting to rise up.

"Perhaps if you spent more time studying and less time devising retorts, you might actually learn something," Bhalla said with a roll of his eyes,

"Studying what? Your inflated ego?” Y/n said with narrowed eyes, and mock curiosity, “Sorry, I’m not interested in that subject."

"Inflated ego?” Bhalla said with a hollow laugh at Y/n’s audacity, “Coming from the girl who thinks she’s too good to have the prince as her tutor? That’s rich."

"I never asked for a prince.” Y/n seethed, “Especially not one who seems to enjoy tormenting his students."

"Torment? I’m merely trying to instil some discipline. Something you clearly lack."

"Discipline? More like sadism.” Y/n frowned, “Face it, Bhalla, you’re just taking pleasure in making my life difficult."

“And you, Monkey, are taking pleasure in defying me at every turn.” Bhalla said, “It’s almost endearing."

"You know what, you snarkiness, maybe the problem isn't with me at all.” Y/n stood up, her voice raising, “Maybe you're just a terrible teacher."

It was no longer harmless banter between the two. Tensions were rising neither of them was kidding around anymore.

"Oh really? And what would you know about teaching? You can barely keep your eyes open, let alone absorb any knowledge," Bhalla retorted, offended.

"Maybe if you weren't so full of yourself, I'd actually learn something!" Y/n said, leaning in.

"Full of myself? You think this is about me? It's about your lack of focus, your inability to grasp even the simplest concepts!" Bhalla said, frowning, also leaning in.

"I am focused!” Y/n admitted, “But it's hard to learn when all you do is belittle me!" 

"Belittle you? I'm trying to make you see how far behind you are! There are children who can do things you can't even comprehend!"

Y/n showed a tiny glint of hurt in her eyes, “That's not fair, Bhalla. I’m trying my best!" Her voice trembled with anger and hurt.

Bhalla’s voice raised till he was shouting, "Your best? Your best is pathetic! You’ll never succeed at this rate! You lack, focus, interest, determination, and brain, and at this very rate, you show no progress to achieve anything! I've wasted so many hours on you, watering the plant in your head so vigilantly, yet it shows no sign of growth!" His voice echoed through the library, instantly silencing Y/n, who stood there, too shocked for words.

Y/n stood there and stared at him with wide eyes, full of hurt and anger mixing in her expression as the silence filled the library. 

“Maybe the plant doesn’t grow because the soil is poisoned by your cruelty.” Y/n managed to say, in a quiet and trembling voice, as a tear dropped from her eye.

Y/n gathered her things at once and stormed out of the library as Bhallaladeva’s face contorted with a mix of slight regret and stubbornness, but he remained silent. 

He watched the girl race out of the library, the sound of her anklets echoing throughout the library, leaving an uneasy silence in her wake.

In a fit of humiliation, and dejectedness, Y/n ran to the one spot that gave her true peace.

The secluded pond. 

The afternoon sun was practically burning her skin off, but Y/n paid no mind, seeking shade under the oversized banana leaf that hung high over her usual sitting place.

She sat there, watching the ripples on the surface of the usually peaceful pond. The ripples practically reflected the inner turmoil she felt in her own heart. 

Silent, fat tears, dropped from her eyes, one by one as Y/n hugged her knees, leaning her shoulder against the giant rock that sat beside her. She cried softly, sniffling occasionally, watching as the tears that fell from her eyes created more ripples in the pond. 

The sun soon began to set, and the blue sky turned pink, but Y/n remained the same. 

She knew Bhalla was cruel, but she didn’t expect that he would have said something like that. She should have expected it, but she didn’t. Why? 

Soon, her tears came to an end when a wave of tiredness washed over her and her eyelids began to shut, feeling too heavy to keep them open. 

As the sun began to set in, so did Bhalla’s nervousness.

For as long as Y/n had been sitting by the pond, letting her tears soak into the water, Bhalla had been locked in his chamber, ordering no one to enter. Once the doors to his chambers shut, his frown dissolved and a smirk grew on his lips. 

He hummed a tune to himself as he made his way to his balcony. 

"This ought to help her." He said to himself with a grin, referring to his ‘outburst’ earlier. It hadn't yet occurred to Bhalla that using a strong Mahismathi military motivation tactic designed your emotionless old men on a young girl, foreign to Mahismatic and full of emotion, simply trying to learn a language might not have been the best idea. 

It worked wonders on the training grounds, so surely it ought to work just as well with her. Right? Bhalla's initial delight came to an all too sudden halt at that thought. It would work, right? 

And so, as Bhalla relaxed and laid back on his grand armchair on the balcony, munching away on an apple, he was once again in deep thought, a slight sense of doubt and nervousness began to grow at the deepest pit of his heart and brain. 

As the sun began setting, the initially slight sense of doubt and nervousness grew, eating him away, till he was back up on his feet, frantically pacing around his room, biting at his fingernails in tension. 

Bhalla was acting very strange and unlike himself. The elder prince of Mahismati who was known for his composure and having the ability to not tense over problems was now pacing back and forth around his room, biting his nails in worry about a simple girl. 

Something Bhalla would have never done if Y/n had never appeared. 

Perhaps…

Perhaps something was changing…? 

‘Did I do too much?’ Bhalla asked himself 'Did she get upset?’

Only now, Bhalla realised that his tactic might’ve done the opposite of what he meant it

to do.

After wrecking his brain for much longer than he would’ve wanted to, Bhalla came to a conclusion to check up on Y/n. 

His ego wouldn’t allow him to admit he cared, he simply wanted to check up on her and make sure she hadn’t done something stupid like running away from anger, but even if she did, Bhalla didn’t care, he was a strong prince!  (Maybe he cared just a bit…)

Just as Bhalla threw open the doors to his chamber to leave and find Y/n, there stood at his doorstep, three royal servants, holding a large platter of fruit for Bhalla. Before Bhalla could dismiss them and tell them he didn’t want any, an idea struck his head. 

He observed the glossy shine of the freshly plucked fruits with great care. Bhalla grinned slightly. Bhalla thought of the countless amount of times that Y/n had gotten herself into silly situations for them. 

He silently signalled the servants to follow him with the fruit platter with a wave of his hand. Starting from the first atom of the palace to the last, Bhalla looked everywhere for Y/n, searching every inch of the grounds for the girl, and yet, she was nowhere to be found. 

Bhalla felt a pang of terror, thinking his silly little assumption that Y/n could’ve run away earlier was true. Even if it was, Bhalla didn’t know why he felt this way, horrified at what could happen to her. 

But his terror came to a quick end when he felt the wind Russell the trees above, singing a song of lure for Bhalla. 

The pond. 

Of course, it was the first place he should’ve looked for her. Bhalla made his way to the pond and when he got close, he noticed the hunched-over figure of the young girl, sitting on the edge of the pond, leaning side-ways against a big rock. 

Bhalla smiled slightly. She was still here, within the palace walls, where he could see her. 

Bhalla didn’t look back at the servants and instead silently ordered them to leave with another wave of his hand. The servants obeyed, they placed the platter onto the grass, bowed, and left. 

Bhalla crossed his arms behind his back and stepped towards Y/n. As he neared her, he saw her form more clearly, she was shivering out of her wits, the cold night hair clearly taking a toll on her. 

When he was only three steps away from Y/n, his foot landed on a twig, and with a sharp snap, instantly alarmed the sleeping Y/n, who awoke at once, startled. 

Y/n looked at the surface of the pond, the rippling surface calming down to reveal the figure of Bhallaladeva’s reflection on the water. She buried her face into her knees and sniffled. 

Bhalla’s eyes softened and he took a prompt seat next to Y/n. 

Day by day, Bhalla was going stranger. He even went as far as to lower himself to the level of a stranger, someone who was practically nothing against him. He paid absolutely no mind to getting his expensive fabric dirty because all that was on his mind was the girl. 

Bhalla was silent for a second, unsure of what to say, when he decided to first help her get warm. He removed the detached draped part of his dhoti that covered his chest and awkwardly laid it over Y/n’s shivering body, revealing his upper body to the cold. 

“Were you crying?” Bhalla asked after another moment of silence. Y/n quickly sniffled and wiped away her tears as a fresh batch was on the verge of leaking out. She frantically shook her head,

“No, of course not.” Y/n said, in what she hoped was not her crying voice, “I don’t cry just by getting yelled at by some- some- some - random… prince… guy… person, who can’t even teach well.” Y/n said, stuttering and sniffling. 

Bhalla’s eyes grew soft and a tiny smile tugged at the end of his lips. Somewhere, deep within his heart, a place he didn’t even know existed, a tiny part of it found Y/n in this state to be kind of cute. 

The way she had clearly been sobbing her eyes out but refused to admit it. It was cute. Y/n sniffled and shuffled away from Bhalla, pushing her body further against the giant rock. Bhalla was not one to back down. When Y/n shuffled away, he shuffled close to her. 

It took him an awkward minute to figure out what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. That’s right. What did he want to say? Why was he even here rather than simply letting her die her death? 

“Listen, I really didn’t mean to make you so upset, it’s just a thing we do in training, we yell at the trainees to help them and make them better, to encourage them to keep going. I just- I just assumed it would work for you as well. I really didn’t mean to make you upset. I just wanted to help you get better.” 

In a moment of weakness, all that he wanted to say, accidentally slipped out from his mouth. Bhalla had no time to think about what he had just said, before Y/n spun her head around, so fast that it surprised even him for a second. Y/n looked at him with rage.

“so you couldn’t tell the difference between an emotionless middle-aged meat shield and a young girl who isn’t even from here!?” Y/n yelled.

Bhalla opened his mouth to say something, perhaps a snarky remark or a justification, but nothing came out. Bhallaladeva was speechless. 

Lost for his words. Instead, the corner of his eye caught sight of the massive fruit platter that the servants had broken their backs to help him carry around the entire palace. 

Bhalla reached for a mango from the platter and tossed it to his other hand where he displayed it in front of Y/n’s face. Y/n gasped, her mouth already starting to water and the twinkle returning to her eyes, making Bhalla grin. 

“A little birdy told me,” Bhalla said, “That monkeys love fruits and are willing to forgive their tutors for yelling at them in exchange for some royal quality mangos? Freshly plucked, might I add?” Y/n smiled a little and looked at Bhalla to urge her to take the mango. 

She took the mango into her hands,

“Alright fine,” Y/n muttered, her features softened and she looked down at her mango, “I’m sorry as well,” She admitted, looking back up at Bhalla with glossy eyes, “I just didn’t have enough focus or determination. I promise I’ll start doing better.”  

Y/n peeled her mango and began eating away at it.

Bhalla looked at Y/n, admiring her ability to admit her fault when in reality, it was never her fault. It was Bhalla. He didn’t understand Y/n enough to be able to teach her properly. 

He forced her into military training-type lessons and expected her to learn. A massive wave of guilt washed over Bhalla as he watched Y/n happily eat. 

Y/n, noticing the grim look on Bhalla's face, smiled and reached for some fruit, offering some of his own fruit to him. Y/n held her hand out with the fruit, but what came next, was something she never expected. 

Bhalla, not tearing his eyes from Y/n’s took the fruit out of her hand, put it aside and instead, took a hold of her hand. He held her hand with both of his and looked Y/n straight in the eyes. 

“Y/n,” Bhalla said, his voice filled with sincerity, so much so that it amazed Y/n a little, even the fact that he called her by her name. 

Now that Y/n thought about it, this was the first time he had ever called her by her name. Y/n’s name felt nice on Bhalla’s tongue. It felt sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted before, 

“I’m truly, really sorry. I promise- the fault is all mine. I still remember the amount of determination and excitement to learn you had when you first started lessons, and I- with my military tactics practically crushed all of it. 

It was my fault. For a student to excel, it is first and foremost the teacher’s job to understand the student. 

I failed to do that. But I never meant to hurt you. I know we have our fair share of differences, but I… I want you to know that I wouldn’t even dream of hurting you in such a way. And I promise I’ll do much better to teach you from now onwards. Please forgive me…”

There was silence between the two. The wind rustling the leaves above them was the only sound as they stared into each others’ eyes. Y/n’s brows furrowed ever so slightly at the sincerity in Bhalla’s voice. Y/n was completely taken aback. 

This was the last thing she expected from someone like Bhalla. 

She wasn’t expecting Bhallaladeva, the older prince of Mahimathi, the future tyrant, murderer of his mother and brother, and the person who tortures Devasena and tries to kill his brother’s son to do something like that.

That someone like him would apologise to such a simple girl from the bottom of his heart. 

To get on her level to feel such emotion. 

“Alright, enough with the heart-to-hearts Bhalla, you’re starting to freak me out,” Y/n said quickly, breaking the silence with a nervous chuckle, “Now take some fruit and admire the pond.” 

Bhalla smiled and shuffled closer to Y/n, taking the fruit he had put aside. The two admired the still pond for a moment before Y/n asked,

“Oh by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Y/n began, Bhalla turned to face her, “How in the world was the library empty every time we had lessons?? Usually in the library, there are too many people, roaming.” 

Bhalla let out a nervous chuckle at Y/n’s words. Bhalla sighed and looked down at the pond, smiling.

“I-... I actually had the library emptied and ordered everyone to stay out for the two weeks, so… so you could study freely.” Bhalla muttered, quite hesitantly. 

Y/n’s eyes widened at the thoughtfulness and grinned, knowing she’s got to have had some kind of positive change on him. It amazed Y/n how humble Bhalla was being. 

She knew for a fact that the Bhallaladeva she saw on the silver screen wouldn’t have done a single thing that the Bhalla now was doing. 

He wouldn’t do any of this, and if Y/n was being honest, the Bhalla in theatres would have forgotten about her existence the few seconds after meeting her. 

But this Bhalla, the one in front of her who was feeling flustered at the prospect of caring for someone - he was different. He potentially could be someone else in the future. Someone who doesn’t go on to betray his family and torture the kingdom. 

Y/n's smile faltered for a moment thinking about the fact that the man in front of her could do such horrendous things in the future, should she fail her mission. This same person would go on to terrorise the kingdom and get killed by his brother’s son. 

Y/n’s eyes glossed over with a sense of pity. True, she did feel pity from the very start, before she even arrived in Mahimathi, but now that she had gotten to know Bhalla on a personal level, it wrecked her heart to think about his future. 

But then she remembered. All she had to do was slightly direct his path to a better one. She could save him from his horrid fate.

Y/n smiled softly and looked at Bhalla with such soft eyes that they pulled something in Bhalla’s heart.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Y/n said, softly, her voice quiet but caught by Bhalla, who smiled. His eyes found Y/n’s and for a moment they shared eye contact before Bhalla quickly redirected his look to something- anything other than Y/n’s eyes. 

Bhallas, put his face into his hand as he let out a laugh, he could barely look in her eyes for a few seconds without a weird feeling erupting in his stomach. 

“You’re very much welcome, Monkey,” Bhalla said, a feeling growing in his heart, pulling at his heartstrings, making him feel pathetic, and Y/n laughed

Neither Bhalla nor Y/n realised what this would’ve meant or what this weird feeling in Bhalla’s heart was whenever he looked into Y/n’s eyes. Bhalla had a slight hunch, but being the egoistic prince he was, he continued to deny it.

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

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[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 25 ( final)

DISCLAIMER: The story is set in the early 20th century. While I have made efforts to capture the essence of the era, there may be inaccuracies as this is a work of fantasy. I do not own the characters Arnav and Khushi, and this story is purely fictional with no relation to any real individuals, living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

WARNING: 18+, MATURE CONTENT.

Final Chapter

Three years later.

It was the eve of Diwali, the festival of lights. The Rajput haveli was a vision of grandeur and festivity this evening. The entire estate was adorned with intricate decorations. Strings of twinkling fairy lights draped over every window and doorway and vibrant rangoli patterns were meticulously crafted at the entrance. Rows of gleaming diyas, their soft flickering flames casting a warm, golden glow, lined the pathways and courtyards, creating a serene and enchanting ambience. The air was filled with the scent of freshly made sweets and the sounds of laughter and celebration, as the household came alive with the spirit of joy and togetherness.

Arnav and Khushi had been celebrating their Dewalis with the Rajput family instead of their own Haveli, which they had finally managed to build according to their own taste. It was especially Khushi's touch that could be seen in every corner of the new Raizada state. Though they had a beautiful house of their own, they very much enjoyed spending their Dewalis with the Rajputs. Because, all of their near and dear ones were here and with Mahindar and Manorama's advancing age, they wanted to celebrate the festivals surrounded by all of their children.

"Oh shit."

Arnav hurriedly entered the room and locked the door behind him. Khushi was in the midst of getting ready. was adjusting a delicate gold necklace around her neck. She had styled her dark hair elegantly in loose waves that had gone perfectly with the stunning deep red sari, she had worn. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of concern as she looked up from her reflection.

"What happened?"

"The string of my trousers just snapped. Did you bring a spare?" Arnav replied, noticing how gorgeous she looked.

"Let me see."

As Khushi proceeded to see Arnav's broken trouser string, a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

"Aren't you a bit too eager to see my treasures, Mrs. Raizada?"

Rolling her eyes at his antics, she said, "Take it off."

"As you wish."

Arnav grabbed her waist, gently placing her on the desk in her room. The old desk was not that big, leaving her back pressed against the wall. He moved to stand between her legs, gently pushing them apart.

"What are you doing?" she whispered yelled as his hands slid up her thighs. He wrapped one of his hands around her waist, pulling her a little closer, while he put the other hand against the wall, above her head.

"Nothing, just testing how sturdy the desk is," he said leaning closer to her. A playful smirk curled on the corners of his lips.

"Arnav, everyone is waiting for us downstairs."

"A few more minutes won't hurt them," he said, capturing her lips in a teasing kiss while his hands gathered her saree around her waist. He touched her in between her legs, finding her already eager for him.

"Ap aise nahi kar sakte," she whispered, biting her lips.

"Kyun nahi kar sakta? Biwi ho tum meri, my legally wedded wife." A soft whimper escaped her lips, as he pushed his fingers in between her nether lips. "And look at you," he murmured, "....already so ready for me. The idea of us on this desk excites you, huh?"

Khushi swatted his shoulder lightly and smiled, her eyes full of mirth. "Shut up."

"Make me."

In the past few years, so much had changed. What hadn't was the undeniable pull between them. Despite the upheavals in many aspects of their lives, there they were, still wrapped up in their own little world.

He looked devastatingly handsome, as always-nothing special in that. But the navy blue kurta he wore today made his eyes stand out even more, and they were now focused on Khushi, brimming with mirth.

Khushi clutched his collars and pulled him close as she fused their lips together, successfully wiping off the teasing grin on his face. Meanwhile, Arnav got rid of his trousers and entered her in a swift motion. Both of them moaned softly, their pleasure barely contained. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. Her back arched slightly while she adjusted to him. His lips travelled down her neck alternately sucking and kissing her soft supple skin. Her head fell back, eyes fluttered shut.

"Don't leave marks. It would be very awkward in front of the relatives." The desk beneath her creaked softly as he began to move.

"Shhh... I won't... at least not where everyone can see." He whispered, lightly sucking behind her ear.

Their rhythm grew frantic. They tried desperately to muffle their moans, as he pounded repeatedly into her. He then realized they were making lots of noises.

"Shit, your bangles.''

"Huh..?" When Arnav saw his wife completely blissed out and lost in the sensation. He just shrugged his shoulder and went back to his previous activities. Soon, their moans mingled in each other's necks as they finished together.

Both were breathing heavily. Khushi cradled her face against his shoulder, her fingers gently playing with his hair. While Arnav tried to catch his breath by resting his head on her neck. A sudden knock on the door startled them. Instead of pushing him away, Khushi clutched his neck even tighter, holding him close. Akash Bhai's voice came through the door.

"Khushi?"

Regaining her composure, Khushi answered in a shaky voice, "Haan, Bhai?" Her body froze in place.

"Where's Arnav? Hasn't he come yet? Bareilly wale Fufaji usko kabse dhoond rahe hain."

"Hume nahi pata, Bhai. Humne unko nahi dekha."

Khushi noticed her husband's shoulders shaking lightly. She cast a glare at his shoulders as if willing them to stop.

"Theek hain, main dekhta hoon. Tum jaldi tayaar hoke niche aao."

As Akash Bhai's footsteps faded, Arnav couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. He looked back at his wife, his amusement contagious. Khushi tried to give him a stern look but ended up laughing along with him, playfully swatting his chest. Arnav gazed at her affectionately before capturing her lips with his.

As much as he loved to kiss her whimpering lips, he loved kissing her smiling ones even more.

After freshening up, Arnav headed downstairs. As soon as he reached the bottom, two little bodies collided with him, and he effortlessly scooped them up into his arms. Three-year-old Akansha, a spitting image of Anjali as a child, brought back memories of his sister's younger days, while five-year-old Ajit, a perfect blend of Akash and Payal. They grinned up at him. Arnav settled into a nearby lounge chair, both children comfortably perched on his lap.

Little Akansha said in her baby voice, "Mamaji, thank you for the gift. Ma said me to thank you." She placed a tiny kiss on his cheek.

Not to be outdone, little Ajit mimicked her. "Ha, Mamaji, thank you."

Akansha quickly turned to him, frowning. "Arre, buddhu, wo sirf mere Mamaji hain. Tumhare nehi."

"He isn't your Mamaji either," Khushi chided little Akansha lovingly. "Remember what I told you? When you go to our house, you'll call him Mamaji. But when we come here, you have to call him Fufaji."

Arnav scrunched his nose in response, "Don't confuse the children, Khushi." Then, turning back to them, he added, "Why don't both of you just call me Uncle, okay?"

Both of them nodded and sprinted off to play in the courtyard.

Meanwhile, two pairs of brown eyes eagerly awaited their turn on his lap. As soon as it was vacant, they climbed onto each of his thighs. A sweet, confused voice asked, "Daddy, do we need to call you that too?"

"Oh, no, I've worked too hard for you to ever call me that."

"Well, your daddy was very close to being called 'Uncle' by my children once upon a time," Khushi said, lightly touching the little girl's nose.

Arnav cast her a mock glare and mouthed soundlessly, "How dare you?" In response, Khushi just laughed.

While little Ayushi snuggled against her father's neck, little Kush played with his toy, absorbed in his own world. Roma Chachi had remarked aptly that Khushi had indeed given birth to their own reflections, as the three-year-old twins were perfect mirrors of their parents.

While little Ayushi was a bit clingy and voiced her need for attention, little Kush was more reserved. Arnav saw himself in Kush more and more as the days went by. Though Kush didn't seek attention outwardly, inside he was just as eager for snuggles and cuddles as his sister. Even if he pretended otherwise, he desired the same affection. So, Arnav made sure to give both children equal attention. And in some cases, he made an extra effort to give affection to Kush while he was still open to it. Because, As Kush grew up, Arnav knew his little boy might not appreciate his father hugging him as much as his daughter might. It's just a man-code.

Arnav pulled little Ayushi closer, planting a kiss on her head, while he affectionately rubbed his son's back. Khushi watched them with a soft smile, her heart swelling with warmth and tenderness. It had been three years since their birth, and Khushi had been pestering Arnav for another child, but he kept refusing. Their birth had traumatized him enough. Arnav till date clearly remembered and almost felt the panic that he had gone through that night.

He had arranged for the best midwife in the area and had called a trained nurse from the missionary hospital for the delivery. The doctor had come as well and assured him that everything was alright and that the birth would proceed naturally. And there he was, pacing in front of the room where Khushi had been for two hours-two hours of listening to her whimpering and screaming in pain. Arnav was just minutes away from asking Hariprakash to fetch the doctor again when a deafening cry of a newborn pierced the air.

A joyous shout of Roma Chachi came from inside, "It's a boy!"

A few moments later, Roma Chachi emerged from the room with a little crying bundle and approached Arnav. But at the same time, another scream from Khushi nearly stopped his heartbeat. Roma Chachi tried to pass the baby to Arnav, but he grabbed her upper arms and asked urgently, "What's happening inside? How's Khushi?"

A hushed whisper circulated among the women in the room who had come to assist with the birth, noting Mr. Raizada's reluctance to take the baby in his arms. Roma Chachi looked around, guessing how the situation must appear, and spoke to Arnav in a hushed voice.

"Take your son, Arnav. Khushi will be alright."

Chastised by his mother-in-law, Arnav looked at the baby, who had stopped crying and was now gazing at him with wide eyes. He took the baby in his arms and sat on a sofa in the corridor. The baby's little body squirmed in the palm of his hand. Father and son stared at each other for quite some time. An overwhelming sense of protectiveness washed over him, though he couldn't exactly name the other emotions coursing through him. He just kissed the baby boy's forehead lightly and spoke softly as if the baby would clearly understand his words, "I'm not mad at you. I'm just scared."

A little while later, Anjali took the baby from Arnav while Khushi's screams continued to echo from the room, driving him to the brink of madness. He asked Hariprakash to fetch the doctor and also asked Anjali to go inside and see what was happening. Suddenly, the screaming stopped, and Arnav's heart pounded at the sudden silence. Roma Chachi emerged with another bundle, her face radiant with a brilliant smile. "There was another baby-a girl. It's a little Khushi."

Arnav placed his hand on the baby's head and asked, "How's she?"

"She will be okay, Arnav," Roma Chachi reassured him and transferred the baby to Arnav. He felt her snuggle into him as he placed a soft kiss on her crown. Since then, Little Ayushi never missed a chance to snuggle into her father's arm.

When everybody went home and the babies were settled with Anjali and Payal in the next room. Roma Chachi decided to sleep in the room, attached to where Khushi was. She was sleeping soundly after giving birth. The doctor said she had lost a lot of blood. Although the bleeding had stopped, she had become very weak. She looked pale, alarmingly pale actually and her breathing was shallow. Fear gripped Arnav's heart despite everybody's reassurance.

He spent the night holding her hand and sitting on the floor near her head, counting her breaths. He didn't know when he fell asleep, his head resting near their joined hands. But he woke up to Khushi's gentle fingers lightly gliding through his hair. When he opened his eyes, she urged him to lie down beside her on the bed. He obliged, and she didn't waste any time snuggling into his chest, her arm draped across his belly.

"Will you be angry with me for the rest of your life if I leave this world before you?"

Arnav's heart dropped at her question. "Don't ask me questions like that."

"Answer me, please."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I can never be angry at you."

"Good, I don't want you to be angry at me at all."

"Then don't even think of leaving."

Khushi tilted her head to look at him and smiled tiredly. Arnav placed a soft kiss on her dry lips. "I felt like I would never see you again, or our babies..... I was so scared."

Arnav gulped down the lump in his throat and didn't say anything in response, only pulled her closer to his body.

She had been quiet for a while, and Arnav thought she had fallen asleep when she spoke again."We have two babies now," she said almost disbelievingly.

"Yes, we do. We didn't even know how to raise one."

"Shhh, we'll manage," she said dreamily. "One baby is for you, one baby is for me. Did you hold them?"

"Yes, I did."

"I haven't yet. I guess I had fainted at the end," she said sadly.

"Why don't you get some sleep and gather some energy, Mommy?" he said lovingly. "If they're to be like you, we'll have a lot on our hands."

"What are you saying? I was a very quiet kid."

"Sure, you were," he whispered against her forehead.

"You were no better, mister. I know all the stories from your childhood, so you can't deny it. At least I didn't get stuck in a patila."

Laughing, Arnav gathered her in his arms even tighter, and both of them fell asleep like that.

"Bhaiya, Bhabi, come quickly! Roma Aunty is calling you," Amelia's voice called out across the courtyard to the little bubble of the family of four, who were just chatting.

Over the years, Amelia blossomed into the remarkable young lady she was destined to be. As the cloud of melancholy gradually lifted, it revealed her true essence—a kind, compassionate, and fun-loving individual, fiercely protective of those she loved.

"Let's go Mrs.Raizada."

He extended his hand toward his wife.

Khushi looked up at his extended hand, recalling a time when he had reached out in much the same way to guide a little girl out of the darkness.

Khushi scooped up Kush in her arms as Arnav held Ayushi. Hand in hand with their children nestled in their arms, they joined the rest of the family. The warmth of the burning diyas cast a golden glow over them.

In the end, as they embraced the spirit of the festival, they realized they found their perfect piece of forever in each other's arms, in each other's eyes, knowing that this was where they were always meant to be.

----------THE END----------

<previous>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @msbhagirathi @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte

[hum-suffer]

I love your writing!!!! Could you write a long form piece on Nakul?

Awww thank you so much and also, I'm so so sorry for the late answer!! I hope you like this!

____________________________________________________

Nakul draws a lot.

It's a fact, really. Yudhisthir never lies, Bheem loves food, Arjun is a know-it-all, Sahadev is quiet and Nakul draws.

The first drawing he made was when he was a toddler, made it on the bark of a tree. An amateur drawing, carved in the Neem tree near their hut. It was of a lotus. Madri thought there was some irony in the flower being drawn on the tree which had bitter leaves. She smiled to herself when she saw the redness in his fingers and kissed his fingers. "Nothing good ever comes without hard work," she told him. "And hard work will always leave its mark."

She failed to notice that he had a small cut on the side of his ring finger on his left hand, which scabbed over but Nakul kept on scratching it once in a while, never allowing it to heal. He feared that he would forget his hard work if he didn't have any scars.

Even ages after that incident, the scar on the side of his finger is still red and still a bit raw. It grows warm whenever he runs a hand through his hair.

The drawings kept on piling up after that. First on trees, then on sand, then on leaves, then on flower petals and then, on papyrus. There was never a moment where Nakul did not have some sort of natural colour stain on himself.

His drawing was a source of joy.

____________________________________________________

And then, then came the day when he was forced to see the fire lick the bodies of his parents. He held Sahadev close, forced him to look away from the pyres, but couldn't look away himself. The wood he had used to alight the pyres had come from the Neem tree he had made his first drawing on.

There were no more drawings after that. Not for a long while.

Hastinapur almost forced out all creativity from him. He walked with his shoulders held higher than he would, his chin tilted up and his hair always adorned with some or the other jewellery.

(He doesn't remember all the details about his mother. Mata Kunti says he inherited her hair and Pitashri's eyes. Nakul never looks at Kunti in her eyes whenever talking to her.)

And the next time he draws, it's for his only sister. Dusshala, the poor dear, Nakul finds himself worrying about her sweet nature and soft heart. He worries about her unblemished skin, her blood of Kurus and her quiet submissions to keep peace. He worries for a future for her. He worries that it will be filled with bruises.

So, he draws her. Young, smiling. Surrounded by flowers and greens and a light in the sky that's neither the sun nor the moon. He draws a softer glow around her eyes and hopes she knows that she is the embodiment of kindness to him.

He gifts it to her on her birthday, and two days later finds out where exactly her father is planning to marry her off to.

He wishes he did not paint the painting's saree red.

(a year later, he sees a bruise on her arm that she says came from falling accidentally and bracing herself against a railing.

Several years later, he sees her ghost smile when she's wearing a white saree.)

____________________________________________________

When Nakul first bleeds accidentally in his room, he wipes the side of his palm on the nearest wall— almost in a hurry to run to his brothers and discuss the strategy for the attack on Panchal.

When he comes back to his room later, the stain is dry and coating a small part of the wall, not unlike paint.

He picks up the paintbrush and lets his thoughts guide him, painting with the rhythm of his heartbeat. The wall ends up having a portrait of a horse with red reins, and Nakul names him Kamal.

He tells the servants not to erase the painting while cleaning his room.

(when they visit to Hastinapur after the establishment of indraprastha for the first time, his wall is repainted again. There's a silhouette of black and white and brown paint under the beige. The shadow of his blood is still stark.

Nakul resists the urge to redraw the horse with the blood of his cousin. Barely. But he resists it.)

____________________________________________________

Nakul's half finished painting is burnt in the lakshagrah, and for the locals, it confirms that the Pandavas and their mother are dead.

For, who would leave a half painted canvas in the living room, if not Nakul? For, who would paint such stark painting, if not him? For, who would be painting Maharaj Pandu, if not his son?

(When Sahadev asks him about it later, Nakul shrugs.

"I only managed to paint the forehead and the eyes. The rest was a sketch still. I was painting myself. I would not leave our father in a burning hall."

And Sahadev understands, Nakul thinks. Because he always understands. No one understands Nakul better than Sahadev does. It's the reason why Sahadev holds his hand and puts pressure on his finger's scar and reminds him that they're alive (unfortunately) even if their parents aren't. Because Sahadev understands that Nakul saw their father burn once and he won't do it again, but he will definitely not hesitate to see himself burn.)

____________________________________________________

Life in the forest doesn't allow him to paint. So he doesn't.

Nakul doesn't paint again— until he's suddenly married.

And all at once, she is the muse he has been searching for, all his life. When he paints her, he wishes he was more talented so he could paint her better and show the world now and after them that she is the epitome of beauty.

The first portrait he makes of her, has her gasping and flushing. She tells him she is flattered but next time, she wants him to be in the painting too.

(The next time he paints her is when his hands are bruised and so is his self respect and his hands are shaking but he needs needs needs needs needs to apologise. When she caresses the cheeks of their versions on the canvas, their cheeks come off stained red.)

____________________________________________________

The last painting Nakul makes, is lost forever.

When he starts to move to heaven, he reveals all the paintings he made for all the people he held dear. His wives, his brothers, his mother, his dead parents. Sahadev receives more than any of them, because Nakul always made a painting of Sahadev whenever he wanted to distract the younger or apologise for something.

Karenumati hides the paintings he receives with a blush on her cheeks and tears in her eyes as she realises that her husband always wanted to see her smiling. Only that had ever been his agenda.

All of them ask him where his last painting is but he doesn't say a word, laughing it off and leaving it. He changes the subject, and the painting is soon forgotten.

But the painting stays in Parikshit's room. A painting of all the children of the Pandavas, all of them who died for the honour of Draupadi and for the need of justice. And in the hands of Abhimanyu, is lotus.

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Edhuvum Avanukaaga

Meaning: Anything for him

********

'May his light ever live on,' prayed Vanathi quietly, in front of Kaayarohanar, the presiding form of Ishvara at Nagapattinam. She had been restless since she heard about Poonkuzhali in the letter her Prince had written to her Akka, or rather letters. Though he never failed to ask about her, it was perfunctory. Vanathi was no fool, though many thought her to be so.

She had refused to even meet Arulmozhi, instead having seen him once as he woke up. She had not left her chambers except for her prayers, even food, she had gotten to her chambers itself. She had come on Akka's wish, but she was not going to involve herself anywhere near Arulmozhi. She had to lick her wounds in private, and smile to show the world she was happy with his choice of woman. She would always love him, and thus, she will let him go. For his happiness, anything.

Tears filled her eyes at her own thoughts, and she wiped them off, looking straight at the One she worshipped above all, at the One who was everything in the Universe.

"Emperumane, give me strength," she whispered softly, getting up after a prayer to Nilayatakshi and Kaayarohanar, when her Sakhi Tulasi came running in, saying, "Ponniyin Selvar is to visit the temple now with Ilaya Piratti, Vanthiyathevar, Sendhan Amudhan and the odakkari."

Vanathi felt her heart stop and she got up, saying, "Come Tulasi, let us leave. I have some work in my chambers. I need to stitch the pallu for Vanavan Athai. Come come."

Vanathi slipped out of the temple, hurrying to her palanquin faster when she saw the said group of people walking in that direction. Luckily, only her Akka had seen her, and she shook her head, running and entering her palanquin, not knowing that Arulmozhi had seen the end of her saree as she got in.

She heaved a sigh of relief, and asked the bearers to go ahead, when his familiar voice reached her ears.

"I have never known the Princess of Kodumbalur to run away from her Akka or me, have you, Devi?"

She trembled when she heard his voice, and thought of Shiva, prayed to Him again and again, and stepped out. She folded her hands and greeted the younger Prince of Chozha Nadu, her heart beating out of her chest. She did not want to look at him, but by protocol she had to.

"Vanangugiren, Ponniyin Selvare. I am glad to see you awake and doing well now."

"I am surprised to see that you did not come to visit me, Vaanathi," he said, and Vaanathi resisted the urge to snap. Why should she go to see him?

"Ilavarase, I came as Akka's companion," she said. "By protocol, I should not come to meet you alone."

Her eyes met his steadily, and she could catch the hint of surprise in his lovely amber eyes, the hint of something amiss, and she smiled a little more. She wanted his happiness, and he clearly was, around Poonkuzhali. She must thank the woman for not just saving the Prince, but for also giving him that happiness and contentment. Swallowing quietly, she allowed herself to still look at him, not letting the flood of her heart reflect in her eyes.

"But you can with Akka," he pointed out correctly, but she shook her head.

"Ilavarase, only those whose presence is needed must come to see you. My presence would be a disturbance. But I am thrilled to see you doing well. I will pray to Emperuman for you. For now, please let me take leave and not disturb you all in your darshanam."

"You will not come with us?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"No Ilavarase. I already finished my darshanam. I have some work, vanangugiren."

Saying thus, and smiling at Kundavai, Vaanathi went back to her palanquin, feeling his eyes on her, but refusing to look back or at him.

It was not her right, any longer.

*****

This is a sneak peak into an angst Vanathi and Arulmozhi story. It will not be too many chapters in length- I am trying to make it as limited but with the punch it requires, as possible.

Please do let me know what you all think of this snippet!

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[theoldoor]

YOU GOTTA KILL ME BEFORE I DO IT MYSELF PLEASE I CANT

theyre so theyre the theteyeyytytyeyeyt i know im repeating myself here but like ive got ive iveiivieve I CANT BE THEIR ONLY FAN ANYMORE

Their relationship is characterized by constant bickering, each being the only one who could get under the other's skin. Despite their petty behavior and attempts to undermine each other, they consider the other family. (In a married couple way not in a brotherhood way.)

Aventurine, charming and manipulative uses many methods to bend people to his needs and doens't value relationships. Often seeing them as transactional due to his self-image and his nature as a survivor. Fenrir finds Aventurine's tactics ineffective and his, too, fails to works against Aventurine. Stranded in the desert, they learn to cooperate rather than manipulate, building a foundation for a genuine relationship.

They are foils to one another, emphasizing traits the other despises but also finding solace in the sared wounds. They bite one another, hoping to harm but found they share the same scar and stopped the bleeding with the same teeth that sunk down.

Forced proximity and challenges they faced break their transactional habits. Their bond though formed out of necessity but evolves to deep respect and familial feelings for one another.

domestic vashrir im going to die,

theyre bad people, but theyre still people and theyre bad because theyre forced and taught to be. they are not redeemable neither do they seek salvation but they accept the light. iM SO SIIIICCCKKKK

the way that they still come to each other’s places and still drag each other back home to rest. the fact that they still rely on one another despite no longer needing to. the fact that they learn to work with one another rather than to use the other. the fact that fenrir was willing to kill his aeon if it means he could save aventurine and the fact that aventurine trusted fenrir so much he bet on FENRIR’S life / willing to sacrifice fenrir over him as he does believe fenrir is more worthy than he

during the years when Fenrir was off to university, Hermia stayed with Aventurine and was under the care of Jade too. Hermia is scared of Jade, due to her resemblance to Stella but warmed up to her soon. Although she referred to Fenrir as “Older brother’, she doesn’t do the same to Aventurine. Instead, she refers to Aventurine as the same name Fenrir does - she doesn’t see Aventurine as an older brother, but a close friend and a guardian she can rely on. She initially trusted Aventurine because Fenrir trusted Aventurine, although she finds the man a bit unreliable, she knew Aventurine wouldn’t go against Fenrir.

bonus doodles… bonus… doodle…d odsd.d..d…

[romewritingshop]

Main Tera (Side Story)

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Brown Indian Female Reader

Tropes: Childhood lovers, Exes-to-lovers, Fake dating, co-workers-to-lovers, wedding

MASTERLIST

A/N: Side story is here! And this is the end for Kento and his brown skinned girl. I'm gonna miss this couple. They were a good balance of each other.

Thanks and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! Follow, comment or reblog, IDC because I enjoy writing this fic. Please pay attention before reading.

NO UNDER 18s 🔞

WARNING: Smut, Explicit Sex, Fingering, Sexual teasing, Office sex, making out, masturbation, hand on throat (no choking) and hair tugging (THAT NANAMI SCENE), oral (Female recieving), creampie, rough sex, back scratches, half clothed sex, Semi-public (They almost get caught).

Satoru Gojo frowned as his hand sped up in squeezing his stress ball tightly. His sunglass eyes zeroed in on the team leader's door, leaning back on his chair. His posture and stress ball were doing nothing to alleviate his nagging curiosity as Suguru came back from the toilet. Once again seeing his best friend stare at Nanami's door.

“I thought I told you to stop staring at that door, Satoru.”

 “There's something going on between Nanami and (Y/N).”

Suguru exhaled exasperatedly, plopping down on his office chair, sliding next to Satoru.

“What's your evidence this time?”

“The two of them have been in there for an hour and a half.”

Suguru deadpanned, returning back to his computer to log on and get started with work.

“Satoru. They must be having a meeting.”

“For that long?”

“Well they are trying to secure the Malaysian Food Tycoon as a client. So yes it'll be that long.”

Satoru huffed, returning to his computer. Even since Nanami and (Y/N) returned from (Y/N)’s cousin's wedding, their co-workers have changed. They were both grumpier than usual but Satoru had an inkling that they were trying to deter everyone from the fact that they were dating or hooking up. So he was slowly gathering evidence but his best friend Suguru didn't have his back.

“Look … I know that there is something going on. And I'll prove it to you.”

The door opened as (Y/N) stepped out to look over the file in her hand. Nanami was next to her, pointing out a few things before they both returned to their places. A light bulb lit in Satoru's mind as he smirked at Suguru, the dark haired man furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously.

“What are you planning?”

“I'm gonna ask (Y/N) to be my date for the company event tomorrow.”

“Don't bother. Yaga strictly said no dates.”

Satoru slapped his thigh, leaning back and throwing his stress ball in the air to catch it before another idea snapped into his head.

“I got it. I'll ask her to wear a saree like last time.”

Suguru frowned, stopping what he was doing to stare at his friend. Unable to comprehend the stupidity in that plan as he scooted forward and flicked Satoru's forehead.

“She always says no.”

“Yeah but the catch is that I'll ask in earshot of Nanami. She'll say no to me but Nanami will persuade her into wearing one. If she does wear a saree, I'm right and she and Nanami have something going on. If she doesn't, then I'm wrong. Come on Suguru! Trust me on this. I bet you she will wear a saree.”

Suguru smirked as he raised an eyebrow. Knowing that he will easily win this bet. Like all bets they have placed in the past, Suguru won them. He was ready to bite as he gave a nod, whilst folding his arms.

“Is this a confirmed bet?”

Instead of a worried fearful look, Satoru tilted the rim of his sunglasses down his nose, his blue eyes sparkled with mischievous delight.

“Oh yeah! I, Satoru Gojo, bet to Suguru Geto that (Y/N) Aggarwal will wear a saree to tomorrow's event.”

His hand thrusted forward which made Suguru eye it carefully, his eyebrow quirked up as he remembered.

“What's the prize and forfeit this time?”

“Whatever you want, Suguru.”

The dark haired man's eyes widened, surprised by the serious weight to the words. Satoru was determined to make this bet which had the cogs in Suguru's head turn. It had to be big and something that would kill Satoru. He didn't know what to do as he leaned back to ask the brunette beside Satoru's desk.

“Hey Shoko! Need your help.”

She dragged her chair around to swivel in-between the two tall men. Her eyes darted between the two to ask.

“What do you need?”

“Need to come up with a forfeit for a bet against Satoru. Said I could do anything.”

Shoko's face twitched as she slowly turned her head to stare Satoru dead in the eyes. Finding it incredulous as she stuttered.

“Do you have some sort of death wish? You don't have a winning streak when it comes to bets with Suguru.”

Satoru rolled his eyes as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair.

“I know but I have a guarantee that I'll win this bet.”

“And that is…”

“(Y/N) will wear a saree for tomorrow's event.”

Shoko turned her head to Suguru, the two of them having a silent conversation about how crazy Satoru was. But it seemed like Shoko got her answer as she exhaled before her eyes widened in glee. As she laid out her idea.

“Are your Tiktok followers still asking for you to do a dance in a maid outfit?”

Satoru's lips almost did a glitching motion, understanding the hidden motive behind Shoko's words. He gives a firm nod as he knows that he will still win the bet.

“Yes and if that's what you're suggesting then I'm game.”

Shoko and Suguru share a stunned look, immediately understanding that Satoru was serious.

“Fine. If you lose the bet, you have to wear a maid dress and dance for your Tiktok followers. If I lose the bet, -”

“I get to take her out on a date.”

Suguru frowned in confusion, before his eyes widened in shock. His skin paler than ever as he stuttered.

“Her?”

“Yeah her. You have to give me her number and I get to go on five dates.”

“One date.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

Finally both men settled on three. The two men shook hands and now their bet was sealed with Shoko overseeing it. 

After an hour, it was just getting close to lunch time and (Y/N) was sitting at her desk. Satoru could spot his co-worker getting ready to go out for lunch. Nanami had gotten out of his office with a file in hand, turning to (Y/N)’s direction. This was his break as Satoru stood up and swooped his way to sit on the corner of (Y/N)’s desk.

His co-worker exhaled, glancing up at the blue-eyed crazy.

“Satoru. Can I help you?”

Satoru smirked as he rolled his eyes.

“Can't I just sit here and catch up with you? You were gone for a while and I wanted to hear about India.”

(Y/N) leaned back on her chair with her arms folded, giving Satoru a deadpan expression which made Satoru scratch at the back of his head.

“What do you want?”

“Right. Erm tomorrow …”

“I am not going to wear a saree, Satoru Gojo.”

“Oh come on!” Satoru jumped and had the whiny voice of a five year old. “You'd look so good in them and you'd get everyone's attention.”

“Yeah and they would focus on my boobs rather than the work I'm talking about.”

“Ha you said boobs!”

(Y/N)’s hand was about to reach her stapler so that she could throw it at Satoru. The tall silver-haired man nervously laughed as he stood up and held wary hands out to calm her co-worker.

“Hey hey! Chill. But seriously, like you'd look good in a saree.”

“Bye Satoru!”

(Y/N) jumped up and stomped away from Satoru, passing Nanami. The blonde haired man's eyes followed (Y/N) before focusing on the insubordinate in front of him.

“What were you talking about?”

Gojo smirked as a plan formulated in his head. He exhaled dramatically, slowly building up to his part.

“Ah it's nothing. I just wanted to ask her to join Suguru, Shoko and I for lunch but she ran away, said she had plans for lunch.”

Gojo shrugged as he strolled away from Nanami, his hands in his pocket and a smirk on his face knowing that his plan was soon going to work.

~~~~

“Mhmmm.”

Kento hummed delightfully as he shared a long passionate kiss with (Y/N). The two of them were in his apartment living room, finally able to kiss each other after restraining themselves at work. Since the two of them returned from (Y/N)’s cousin's wedding. They rekindled their love and became a couple once again.

This has been going on for a month and it was tricky to hide this relationship from their co-workers. All apart from Haibara, who walked in on the two of them kissing at the wedding. Daadi knew as well, ‘how’ was never a question that needed to be asked.

(Y/N) was staying the night over and the two were getting a little hot and heavy during their movie watch. Kento had fully reclined back on the sofa with his girlfriend sitting on his lap and running her fingers through his shaggy hair. Tasting like raspberries and chocolate which had Kento constantly chasing after her lips.

Finally she let go to take a moment to breathe, a soft lazy smile made its way to her cheeks as she asked.

“Nanami…”

“We're not at work now Darling, call me by my name.”

“Kento…”

He gave a short kiss before looking down at her body, wearing matching pink silk pyjamas that were so loose that it left him imagining her body underneath. His vision shifted as he wondered how she would look in a saree. Gojo's words were playing up in his mind and before he knew it, his mouth began to speak.

“What are you wearing tomorrow?”

“Hmm?”

“Tomorrow's party. What are you wearing?”

It took (Y/N) a few seconds to bring her focus back to reality, her arms looped around Kento's neck and his hands rested on her hips, stroking slowly in an up-down motion. She shrugged, not thinking much about his words.

“Just a blue dress, why?”

Kento shook his head, gently lifting her off his lap and grasping her hand to lead her to his bedroom closet. It was big and spacious but what he wanted was a small box that was nestled underneath his hanging shirts. It was a blue cardboard box as he handed it to (Y/N), smiling at her.

“I … had Daadi go to the shops for me to pick this outfit for you. Would you please wear it for tomorrow?”

Her cheeks flushed red as she took the box from his hand. Peeling the lid off and lifting the outfit up, only for her eyebrows to crease suspiciously as she ran the long fabric through her fingers. It was a black chiffon/tulle saree with lace embroidered on it, accompanied by an embroidered black t-shirt bra blouse which would be eye-catching.

Her eyes darted from the outfit in hand to her boyfriend Kento. Surely he was joking as she huffed nervously as she asked.

“A saree? Why a saree?”

“Because you'd look beautiful in it.”

“Kento.”

He smiled so sincerely which made her heart soften as she hugged him, thanking him for the gift. There was no way that Nanami came up with this idea himself and she knew that tomorrow, she was going to kill Satoru Gojo.

~~~~

“So ready to lose the bet Satoru?”

Suguru raises an eyebrow as his hands nestled in his haori pocket. Suguru had gone for a mixture of modern and traditional outfit, wearing a suit pant and white shirt as well as a purple and golden haori on top. Meanwhile Satoru and Shoko stuck to more traditional black tie outfits. Shoko was in a simple brown full sleeve dress and Satoru was in a black and white suit with a black tie, blue circle rimmed sunglasses and slick back hair.

Satoru rolled his eyes as he turned his head around to see Haibara talking to a party guest. He waved to get the younger co-worker's attention which made him politely excuse himself before approaching his older co-workers.

“Any word from (Y/N)? The party's started.”

It was held in a large spacious conference hall with a small buffet table of dishes. Waiters were going around serving pinot grior in champagne flutes. The lighting had a slight golden glow. It was the company event to celebrate the company's success as well as to introduce themselves to new potential clients.

Haibara pulled at the collar of his shirt, rather nervously as he whispered.

“She's running late. She should be here any minute.”

Haibara grinned before his eyes landed on Shoko, a smile on his face as he held a hand out to separate Shoko away from Suguru and Satoru. The two men glanced around before Suguru spotted (Y/N) at the entrance. His eyes widened and he caught himself about to drop his flute.

In front of him, (Y/N) had her eyes narrowed, looking around whilst adjusting her outfit. It was what Satoru bet, (Y/N) Aggarwal had worn a saree. A black tulle saree, the skirt was long and had pleats. The extra scarf was draped across her chest. Her jet black hair had a shaggy damp look to it which just looked attractive.

(Y/N) had killed it and Suguru was in trouble as his eyes widened. He needed to prevent Satoru from spotting (Y/N), downing his drink and dropping it onto a nearby tall table. Suguru looped his arm around Satoru's shoulders, leading him to have his back facing their co-worker. Making some kind of excuse as he pointed at a few girls in front of him.

Satoru frowned as he once again came in front of Suguru to question this strange behaviour but his eyes darted over his shoulder before locking on the target of their bed. His jaw dropped, hooking a finger around his sunglasses leg and yanking them off to get a better look.

He tucked his glasses into his shirt collar, chuckling as he brought his hand to the side of Suguru's face, pushing to the right so that Suguru wasn't blocking his vision.

“Well well well, Suguru! Looks like I was right. Hey Shoko!”

Hearing her name being called, she and Haibara rejoined Suguru and Satoru. Her eyebrows quirked up and Haibara had a confused smile on his face as Satoru announced.

“I have won the bet Shoko, and now as requested Suguru must allow me three dates.”

Suguru had a foul expression as he fished for his phone, taking it out and forwarding the number to Satoru, shivering at what he had done. Giving his best friend the cruelest stink-eye and regretting the fact that he didn't embellish more on the bet.

“I hope you're happy.”

“Oh yeah! I can't wait for the date.”

Haibara didn't know who they were talking about as he raised his hand slightly as if asking to join the conversation.

“Hey … who are you talking about?”

Satoru shook his head, leaning his arm on Suguru's shoulder.

“Suguru's hot cousin who just became a nurse. By the way, thank you Suguru.”

The dark haired man rolled his eyes which made Satoru laugh out loud, his eyes going around before noticing that (Y/N) wasn't in the room. His head turned left and right but she wasn't there.

“Hey, have you seen where (Y/N) went?”

“She was - Huh? She was just there a minute ago.”

“What's strange is that I haven't seen Nanami since I got here? Where are they?”

~~~~

A soft moan and humming sound can be heard from an office, Kento and (Y/N) were in his office, kissing and connecting. Her lips caressing and licking his lips while her hands were around Kento's neck, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. His hands were on her waist, feeling a mixture of soft supple skin and rough tulle fabric.

His office was a fairly nice size with ceiling to floor windows and a sturdy mahogany desk. On the right hand side of the desk was a filing shelf with all sorts of files and books. Some files were dropped on the floor as Kento had his girl pressed up on that wall before he lifted her onto his desk.

This was something they would never do, they could easily get caught and so far they had been so good at keeping a low profile. It was Kento's fault, he took one look at (Y/N) and immediately he just had to savour her. Before she could greet anyone else, he swooped in and led her into his office.

Which led them to their current actions, Kento brought his fingers to where the remaining saree was over her shoulder. He unveiled it off her like he was opening a present, reluctantly he let go of her lips and trailed down her jaw, to lick and nibble into the base of her neck. He could taste a slight bitterness of perfume which enthralled his nose with notes of bergamot and jasmine.

This felt so wrong as she brought her nimble fingers to his shirt buttons, having already shrugged off his blazer when they made out against the shelf. Finally she saw his bare chest that she had been craving to see since they started dating. Kento pulled away from her neck for the moment, after giving her a wet hickey that made her yelp and whine.

His voice was hoarse as one hand cupped her cheek while the other was pressed on the bare expanse of her shoulder blades. Kento's nose was brushing against hers as he had to ask.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Darling?”

“What do you mean? Of course.”

(Y/N) was about to lean in again but he held her arms down before she could move. Looking directly in her eyes so that he could get his words across to her.

“Look … it's only been a month. I don't want to rush you into anything. We just got together after 13 years.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow before she let out a sound of realisation, giving a firm nod.

“Hm, maybe you're right.”

Kento gave a nod as he stepped back holding a hand out to help his girl off the table as she continued.

“We should wait.”

Her boyfriend gave a nod as he was just about to button his shirt when her next words made him pause so he could catch it clearly.

"I mean it's not like I spent everyday thinking of you for the last 13 years. We should push aside the thousands of nights where I laid in bed alone. No one but … me in the house, me and my thoughts. And honestly, they get wild.”

Kento paused before his eyes widened to his girlfriend, as she had her back facing him. She pressed her body against the table, grabbing the hem of the saree, dragging it up the back of her legs and revealing her butt.

He took a sharp inhale when he could see her underwear nestled in the folds of her vagina, soaked from their kissing and his eyes followed her fingers. One hand held the saree up to be bunched up around her waist while the other began to rub over her underwear.

“I've thought about this kind of scenario. You take me into your office, bend me over your desk like this. Slowly. Slowly. Using your fingers to tease me more.”

As (Y/N) speaks, she gets more and more wet. Glancing over her shoulder to see Kento completely entranced by her actions. His hands flexed with tension as he was hypnotised by his girlfriend's filthy lewd acts. Completely surprised by the way she is acting, as he resisted falling into her trap.

“Oh! You'd treat me so well. Even when we were young, you used to treat me to ice cream. So good f’me.”

She gasps and her leg jerks at the building pressure on her clit. (Y/N) is trying so hard to charm Kento and she can tell she's close to breaking him. Her next words might push him to the brink.

“Everytime I put my fingers in, I'd imagine it was your fingers. Even when I was with my ex, I'd always imagine it was you. Reminding me that I'm yours.”

Kento Nanami snapped as he stepped forward to loom over her, one hand wrapping around her as a makeshift ponytail while his over hand squeezed her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him. His soft gentle gaze was replaced by a steely callous expression, the corner of his lip twitched as he hummed.

“I was going to step back so we continue to build our relationship. But you just love to test me. Remember that you asked for this.”

He gave a short sweet kiss as he began to rut against her, her butt and the back of her thighs would push against the front of his thighs. The hand that was in her hair, stroked a line down her body, underneath her saree and underwear. Sinking in three fingers which had her hiss at the sudden intrusion, her vagina grew more wet at the rough treatment.

He thrusted the fingers at a quick speed which had her gasp, Kento's other hand slid down to the base of (Y/N)’s throat, his lips came over to push his tongue in and lick inside her mouth. Whilst he was kissing her, his eyes watched her right hand, pressing down on the table. His gaze narrowed particularly on the fingers, his mind spiralled and for a moment he thought he saw a diamond ring on it.

(Y/N) choked at the sudden speed increase of his fingers, feeling her orgasm come much quicker than she was used to. She panted, moving her lips away and pleading.

“K - K - Kento! I - I n-need more-”

Just before she could say, Kento pulled his fingers out and spun his girl around to once again seat her on top of his desk. His mouth was going dry, desperate to do everything but having so little time. He glanced down at the way his dick was straining in his pants, clenching his fists tight as he warned.

“We shouldn't.”

(Y/N) whined as she spoke with an airy tone.

“Please! Need you in me.”

“Fuck! I don't have a condom.”

“Sh, it's ‘kay. ‘M clean and have an implant.”

His heart pumped rather aggressively as he quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped pants, pushing them down enough for his dick to come out.

Before (Y/N) could get a chance to complain, Kento finally pushed himself inside of her. His head rolled back with a groan as her vaginal walls had clamped itself around his dick. What he had dreamt for 11 years of his life (Because he didn't start thinking about sex and masturbation until he was about 16.) Was nothing close to the present.

She was in heaven. Years of dreaming of Kento and now she finally could feel him inside her. Leaning her head onto his shoulder before looking up into his eyes with watered eyes.

“K-K-Kento.”

Her legs tensed at the sudden rough intrusion as she hissed, her fingernails clawing at his back while her legs wrapped around his waist. Heels digging into his calves as Kento pressed rushed sloppy kisses onto her forehead.

“Shush! ‘M sorry.”

He slowly reared his hips back before pushing forward again, his pace which was hard and rough, the two of them could barely hold on to each other as their skin started to grow hot. He could feel the sweat on his back as he watched (Y/N) gasp and whimper. A complete opposite to the usual loud mouth aggression she would bring out on the daily.

Kento's lips curled up in a smirk as he raised her left calf onto his shoulder, going deeper and actually hitting her g-spot. Her back arched, letting out a silent cry while her eyes streamed down her face at the intensity of his thrusts. Unable to hold herself up she dropped her back against the desk, one hand holding the edge beside her head and the other resting on top of his hand which was holding her leg against his body.

One thrust. Two thrust. Three thrust.

Kento's right hand moved around to where the clitoris hood was, pressing down and rubbing circles which made her hiss harder at the insane play on her body.

“You look incredibly beautiful like this. Quiet and desperate for me.”

A small laugh left her lips as he slowed his movements down, curious as to why she was laughing.

“Desperate? Says the one who brought me in here.”

Kento let out a deep chuckle, leaning down to hover over her. She smacked her teeth at the burning stretch in the back of her thigh as her boyfriend pecked her lips.

“Well I wasn't the one touching myself now, was I?”

(Y/N) smirked and was about to open her mouth to give a rebuttal but Kento straightened his posture and thrusted into his girl, humming with a moan instead. Slowly he continued to gyrate his hips into her, taking control and fluidly fucking himself into her, while she soundlessly gasped and bit her lip.

It wasn't long before her back arched at the tickle of her spot and without any word of warning she shuddered from her intense orgasm. Her eyes fluttered closed and Kento raised an eyebrow at her quietness.

“Did you just-?”

(Y/N) gave a nod and shivered from the overstimulation. The sex she was having with Kento now was completely different than her drunken one night stand that she had with a Kento lookalike. Clearly she missed out at the intense emotions and feelings that came with sex as Kento began to increase his pace.

He was close to coming as he began to kiss and nibble on (Y/N)’s calf before groaning and asking.

“Fuck! ‘M gonna cum soon.”

“D-d-do it i-i-in me. Less mess.”

Kento huffed with a smile, nodding against her leg before his back rolled from intense pleasure and he came inside her. There was a wide grin on his face as he carefully slid (Y/N)’s leg off his shoulder after he pressed soft kisses against the bite marks. Finally able to have sex with her as his eyes went down to admire his dick inside her debauched pussy.

There was a lot of fluid on the both of them as he slowly pulled his dick out. She flinched and his eyes were wide with wonder at the way her vagina pulsated at the loss of his dick. Almost craving for Kento again as he watched his semen leaking out of her entrance.

Kento's eyes darted around to look for something to clean up before he went down on his knees for a closer look. He brought his fingers to swipe the fluid into his mouth which made her hum and moan. He brought his tongue to lick at her labia and around her clitoris, making sure to thoroughly clean her up before then hooking his finger into the gusset of her underwear and bringing it back to cover her.

(Y/N) had her eyes closed as she twitched with tiredness at the incredible sex. Slowly she opened her eyes to see her loving boyfriend licking his lips, tucking his dick into his pants to then zip up and buckle. He buttoned up his shirt, tucking it into his trousers before bending down to loop his undone bowtie around his neck.

He had a soft lazy smile on his face as he brought gentle hands to her shoulders, helping his girlfriend slowly sit up, giving her a kiss before draping the remaining fabric of her saree across her chest again. Their bliss came to a sudden halt as the door to their office opened and their tall silver-haired co-worker was standing at the door.

His blue eyes widened, bringing a hand to point at the couple before screeching.

“I fucking knew it! Suguru!”

Satoru spun around and left the office to get Suguru. This gave Kento and (Y/N) only a few minutes before they were to be discovered in a compromising position. Kento was completely red in the face and (Y/N) could feel heat flaring in her ears. They basked in embarrassment for a good minute before they sprung into action.

Kento went around his desk to put his blazer on and to redo his bowtie while (Y/N) got off his table and straightened her saree. A light bulb went off in her head as she sat down on Kento's desk, opening the computer as she asked.

“Hey, what's the password?”

“10thingsiloveaboutU.”

(Y/N) wiggled her eyebrows at her boyfriend's cheesy password, which was a play on their first movie date. Typing it in and opening up YouTube so she could find a fake zoom call video. She gestured for Kento to come over and stand next to her before she pressed play. At the same time, the office door opened and Satoru burst in followed by Suguru, Shoko and Haibara.

“I told you these two are-”

Satoru cut off as his jaw dropped at the completely mundane scene in front of him. This wasn't how he saw it. He only had been away for two minutes and the room looked neater than ever. (Y/N) was talking rather animatedly in Hindi while Nanami glared at Satoru.

Giving (Y/N) a tap on the shoulder before going forward to shoo them out of the office, Nanami closed the door behind him and glared at his four co-workers.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Satoru glowered as he pointed an accusatory finger at his Team Leader.

“You tell me. You two were just fucking in there.”

Nanami scoffed rather disgustingly.

“How dare you? We were in the middle of a call with a potential client from India and you burst in with inappropriate claims. I could fire you for that.”

Suguru and Shoko had nervous glints as Suguru tugged his best friend's arm.

“I'm sorry, Nanami Sir! Satoru has had one too many drinks! We'll keep an eye on him.”

Suguru and Shoko dragged Satoru away, the tall man was still giving a childish stink eye. Haibara still stood there with his arms folded as Nanami mimicked his stance.

“What's the matter Haibara?”

“Were you seriously having sex in there?”

Nanami scrunched up his face but Haibara gave him a deadpan expression. He could not hide it as the blush on his face gave it away which made Haibara's face scrunched up with shame as he gritted his teeth.

“Gross! You guys know better than that.”

“I know.”

Haibara shook his head and gave a friendly pat on the shoulder to his friend. Informing him to come join them for toasts before leaving Nanami alone in front of his office. A soft relieved exhale left his lips, the door of his office opened and (Y/N) peeked her head through, looking around before stepping out.

“That was close.”

“Haibara knows what we did.”

This made Kento's girlfriend pinch her nose before she huffed, straightening the pleats of her saree and making herself presentable. She glanced up at Kento, awkwardly smiling at him.

“Right … well I'll see you there.”

She was about to walk off when Kento grabbed her wrist and spun her around into his chest, pecking her lips once more before he asked.

“You okay after what we did?”

She gave a bashful smile, nodding and kissing his cheek as a way to show her appreciation. (Y/N) slowly pulled herself away from her boyfriend, giving one final look over her shoulder before rejoining everyone in the party hall. Kento wistfully sighed as he reached into his pocket to fumble with a small velvet box.

He could always ask her another day.

[jukti-torko-golpo]

A Moment with the Mothers :

Shwetpadmasana

My mind is in turmoil. Thoughts are racing around and crashing with each other. Thorns of shattered dreams are tearing through my skin. The maddening hopelessness of wasted time is screaming around my mind. The frustration of the focus that has been lost for years now choke me. Tears roll down my eyes. I crash on the ground. 'Ma help please,' I plead to the walls of my room as they stand witness to my pain.

There is a soft cooling wind. And a shroud of peace falls on me. The dark room seems to be aglow with a very pure light. But the light strangely does not blind me. It gently guides me to its source.

I am led to a strange place. I am surrounded with dark murky waters but somehow it does not touch me. There in the middle is a huge white lotus...the purest white I have ever seen. It floats on the murky waters without touching it. Lotus leaves form steps to its centre. There is a woman sitting there playing a Veena. She is awash with a strange welcoming light. Her Veena is emitting a sound which simultaneously sounds like every piece of music I love.

She opens her eyes and looks at me. She has such a gentle and loving smile on her face. Her face is like the moon of Purnima when it casts away night's darkness. Her dark hair ripples down her back. Her eyes are most beautifully lined with kohl. She is wearing a white saree made of the softest cotton bordered with exquisitely woven golden threads. She is wearing garlands of jasmines and pearls around her neck and wrists. They are spreading a heavenly fragrance all around. I am scared of even breathing loudly in front of this celestial being. Who is she?

Then I look into her eyes. They look at me with the love of a mother calling her child home. I rush to her without thinking anymore. Tears streaming down my cheeks I hug her. She holds me close to her bosom. Her gentle hands caress my head. My tears reflect in her eyes.

I have not spoken a single word but she seems to understand everything I have to say. In fact, even more. She understands every unspoken word hidden in the deepest crevasses of my mind. She holds my face and in the gentlest voice tells me to have faith in her. To not be afraid of the light of knowledge and truth. No time is lost. Everything is in accordance to what she had planned for me. A plan specific to me. Everything has been designed by her. I have to be unafraid of working hard to keep the flame of knowledge alive. The knowledge is not restrained in books. It is everywhere. She will always look out for me. Hold my hand through perilous roads. She will be there.

A resplendent swan glides though the air and lands nimbly on the dark waters. It reaches into the water and seems to have picked out some strange light from the darkness. I am bewildered. The Mother laughs...the sweet sound ringing through the darkness. She tells me to be like the swan. The darkest of waters have light hidden in them. I must learn how to find that light. Every bit of light I find will add to the flame inside me.

She gently kisses my head and everything around me dissolves into darkness. I wake up with a jerk. I am on the ground. It was a dream. But then why is the smell of jasmines still lingering around me? I stand up dazed to switch on the light of the room. A bright, fresh jasmine falls off my lap. I pick it up and hold it close to my heart.

@lavanya-lakshmi @shaonsim @mitraavarunaa @callonpeevesie @whippersnappersbookworm @krishnapriyakiduniya @salt-n-caramel @harinishivaa @shivansa @dhyanshiva @cosmicdreams1111 @your-favourite-skittles @herawell guys might like this.