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nidhi-writes · 4 months ago

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CHAPTER - I | BEAST OUT OF HIM

MASTERLIST

The camp was alive with anticipation. Fires crackled, weapons were sharpened, and the warriors of Mahishmati prepared for the impending battle. The truth of Shivudu's lineage had sent shockwaves through the camp—he was Mahendra Baahubali, the true heir to the throne. For Shiya, this revelation had filled her with pride and determination. She had always known there was something special about her brother, but the weight of his destiny had taken even her by surprise.

Shiya, Sanga's daughter, was no trained warrior, but she was determined to stand with her brother and fight for the freedom of their people. She worked in silence, sharpening her arrows with precision. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions—loyalty, fear, and the burning need for justice. When she finished, she grabbed a jug and headed to the river to collect water for the journey.

The cool night air brushed against her skin, but it did little to calm her nerves. She was almost at the riverbank when something struck her from behind. Pain exploded in her head, and she crumpled to the ground, her vision darkening as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Shiya awoke in a cold, dark cell. The stone floor was damp beneath her, and a faint light filtered through a small barred window high above. She pushed herself up, wincing at the throbbing pain in her head. Panic set in as she realized her bow and arrows were gone, leaving her defenceless.

Her heart raced as she tried to piece together what had happened. She remembered the river, the sudden blow… and then nothing. Who had attacked her? Where was she?

Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor outside her cell, each step sending a jolt of fear through her. The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside, casting a long shadow in the dim light.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, his presence commanding and intimidating. Shiya squinted, trying to make out his features. Something about the way he held himself, the way the shadows played over his face, made her breath hitch. He seemed older, much older—perhaps even older than her father—but there was a dark, unsettling magnetism about him.

“Who are you?” she demanded, forcing her voice to remain steady.

The man chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “You don’t know who I am?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice. “How intriguing. It’s been a long time since someone didn’t recognize me.”

Shiya frowned, confusion warring with the unease she felt. Something about his voice, his presence, made her pulse quicken in a way she didn’t want to acknowledge. She pushed the feeling aside, cursing herself for such thoughts. This man was her captor, a cruel figure in the shadows.

“I don’t care who you are,” she retorted, though her voice wavered slightly. “Let me go!”

He stepped closer, and Shiya instinctively backed away until her back pressed against the cold stone wall. Now that he was closer, she could see the hard lines of his face, the dark eyes that bore into her with unsettling intensity. His presence filled the small cell, suffocating and overwhelming.

“You should care,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, almost intimate whisper. “I am Bhallaladeva, the king of Mahishmati.”

Shiya’s breath caught in her throat. He is the one she heard from Kattappa, the tyrant who had brought Mahishmati to its knees, the one who killed Amerandra Baahubali, her brother's father. But standing so close to him, she couldn’t help but notice his sheer power. His broad shoulders and the dark, almost predatory glint in his eyes made her feel small and vulnerable in a way she had never felt before.

The thought sent a flush of heat through her, and she cursed herself silently. How could she feel anything but hatred for this man? How could she let herself be affected by him in any way?

“A true King would never have to announce himself as a King. And the one who does cannot be one. You are nothing but a cruel man who has brought so much pain to my people,” she managed to say, trying to focus on her anger, on the injustice that had been done.

Bhallaladeva’s smirk deepened, but there was something else in his gaze now—something almost like curiosity. “Your people?” he echoed mockingly. “You’re just a villager. You have no claim to Mahishmati.”

Shiya’s heart pounded in her chest, but she met his gaze with all the defiance she could muster. “My brother, Shivudu, has a claim. And I will fight for him, for our people.”

Bhallaladeva’s expression darkened, the amusement vanishing from his eyes. But she noticed a flicker of something else—was it a surprise? Intrigue? “Your brother is nothing,” he hissed, leaning in closer. “He may have the blood of Baahubali, but he will fall like the rest, Like his own bloody father, by my own hands.”

Shiya’s breath quickened as he drew nearer, his presence suffocating, yet… Something in his nearness made her heart race for reasons she didn’t want to admit. She shook her head, cursing herself for feeling anything other than hatred. This was Bhallaladeva, the man who had caused so much suffering, and she couldn’t allow herself to feel anything but hatred.

“We’ll see,” she whispered, her voice filled with resolve.

Bhallaladeva studied her for a long moment, his gaze searching her face. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a darkness that sent another shiver through her. His eyes turned to her lips, her plump and round lips inviting him, and his body sure did react to the cute little bird before him. He smirked at her.

“You’re brave,” he said finally, almost as if he were admitting it begrudgingly. “But bravery won’t save you.”

With that, he turned and left, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving Shiya alone once more in the darkness. She was shaken, not just by the encounter but by her reactions. How could she have let herself be affected by him, even for a moment? She clenched her fists, forcing the unwelcome feelings aside.

She had to escape, warn her brother, and fight for their people. The shadow of Bhallaladeva loomed large, but Shiya vowed that she would not let it consume her. She would stand strong for Shivudu, Sanga, and Mahishmati.

And no matter what, she would never forget the kind of man Bhallaladeva was, or so that she promised herself.

***

Bhallaladeva sat on his throne, the weight of the crown heavy on his brow. Mahishmati had stood unchallenged for years, its power unrivalled, its king unbowed. He was waiting for his son Bhadra to return with that wretch Devasena, who got away with the help of some foolish boy.

One of his most loyal guards, Nandha, entered the throne room with sadness looming in his eyes. Bowing deeply, he awaited Bhallaladeva's acknowledgement before speaking.

"My King," Nandha began, his voice laced with sadness, "We have sad news: our Prince Bhadra has been beheaded" hearing this news, Bhallaldeva stood up with anger evident in his eyes.

"What are you saying? Who did it?" He is ready to have his way with the one who caused him and his son pain." Nandha explained everything that happened, bringing Bhallaldeva to his knees, and his father beside him was also angry about the news. But before Bhallaldeva ordered anything, Nandha interrupted as he revealed, "But we have captured something invaluable that will ensure our victory without a single drop of blood being shed."

Bhallaladeva's eyebrow arched in interest. The guard's confidence was intriguing. "Show me this prize you speak of," he commanded, rising from his throne. He wanted to see for himself what Nandha believed could be so valuable.

The guard led him through the palace's winding corridors and down into the cold, damp dungeons, where the crown's most dangerous enemies were kept. As they approached a particular cell, Nandha gestured towards it, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Inside, Bhallaladeva saw a young woman, no more than twenty years old, sprawled on the floor, her long hair fanned out around her like a dark halo. Despite the cell's dirt and grime, her youth and beauty were undeniable. Her face was peaceful in unconsciousness, but there was an undeniable strength in her features that caught his attention.

A smirk curled at the corner of Bhallaladeva’s lips as he turned to Nandha. "Explain."

Nandha straightened, eager to please. "My King, this girl is the sister of Shivudu—the very man who beheaded your son Bhadra. I overheard Kattappa's revelations to this boy—Shivudu is no other than Mahendra Baahubali, the son of your greatest enemy, Amarendra Baahubali."

Bhallaladeva’s eyes darkened with fury at the mention of Shivudu’s name. The wound of losing his son Bhadra was still fresh, and now, to learn that the one who killed him was Amarendra’s spawn filled him with a burning rage.

Nandha continued, sensing his master’s anger. "This girl was with the rebels, preparing to march against you. I seized the opportunity and captured her, knowing she would be the perfect leverage. With her in our grasp, Mahendra Baahubali will surrender without a fight."

Bhallaladeva’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. "You have done well, Nandha. Very well, indeed. Guard the gates, close off the kingdom. No one enters or leaves without my command. Let them come, let them try to breach Mahishmati. They will find nothing but death and despair."

Nandha bowed deeply, his chest swelling with pride at the king’s praise. "It shall be done, my King."

As Nandha left to carry out his orders, Bhallaladeva remained, his eyes fixed on the girl in the cell. The thought of using her as a pawn in his game brought him grim satisfaction. But something more about her stirred an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

Hours passed, and word reached Bhallaladeva that the girl was beginning to wake. He wasted no time returning to the dungeons, eager to see how this little bird would react when she realized who held her captive.

As he entered the cell, he saw her stirring, her eyes fluttering open. She pushed herself up slowly, disoriented, and Bhallaladeva watched with a dark, silent amusement as she took in her surroundings.

When she finally looked up and met his gaze, he saw the confusion in her eyes, the way she didn’t immediately recognize him. That made him pause, an unfamiliar feeling creeping over him—was it... shyness? He dismissed it quickly, but not before the thought had planted in his mind.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice steady despite the fear he knew she must be feeling.

Bhallaladeva chuckled, the sound reverberating through the small cell. “You don’t know who I am?” he replied, stepping closer, towering over her. “How intriguing. It’s been a long time since someone didn’t recognize me.”

She frowned, a flicker of defiance in her gaze that only intrigued him more. He had expected terror and submission, but this girl… was different. There was strength in her that drew him in despite the circumstances. He could feel his heartbeat quicken—a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Let me go!” she demanded, though he could hear the tremor in her voice.

He leaned in, his eyes locking with hers, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You should care who I am,” he said, a sinister edge to his tone. “I am Bhallaladeva, the king of Mahishmati.”

He watched as her eyes widened in realization, fear finally creeping into her expression. But along with that fear, there was something else—something in how she looked at him that made his chest tighten. Was it… attraction? The idea was absurd, yet he couldn’t deny how his blood heated under her gaze.

Despite himself, Bhallaladeva felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in years—an awareness of his power, not just as a ruler, but as a man. The thought made him smirk, but it also unsettled him. This girl was his prisoner, a tool to be used against his enemies. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything else.

But as he turned to leave, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was different from anyone he had ever encountered. She wasn’t just a pawn but a challenge he couldn’t wait to unravel.

For now, he would let her stew in her fear and uncertainty. But soon, he would return. And when he did, he would ensure that she understood exactly who held her life—and her brother's fate—in his hands.

Bhallaladeva left the cell, his mind racing with thoughts of the battle ahead and of the girl who had, for a fleeting moment, made him feel something other than the cold, unyielding rage that had defined him for so long. But whatever that feeling was, it would not deter him from his purpose.

Mahendra Baahubali would come for his sister. And when he did, Bhallaladeva would be ready.

The sun hung low in the sky as Mahendra Baahubali, Devasena, Kattappa, Avantika, and their loyal followers marched towards Mahishmati. Devasena carried the severed head of Bhadra, her face set in grim determination. The image of vengeance incarnate, she was ready to end the tyranny of Bhallaladeva once and for all. Mahendra, walking beside her, was the very image of his father, Amarendra Baahubali, the legendary warrior who had once protected these lands.

As they approached the gates of Mahishmati, Mahendra’s likeness to his father was undeniable—his strength, resolve, and gait mirrored the great Amarendra. Bhallaladeva, watching from the high walls of his palace, felt a shiver of unease. It was as if a ghost from his past was marching towards him, ready to exact retribution.

But that moment of unease quickly faded as Bhallaladeva’s lips curled into a dark, twisted smile. He had a card to play, one that would shatter the resolve of this army of rebels. He turned to his guard, his voice a low, commanding growl. “Bring the little bird here.”

A short while later, the heavy iron doors of the palace creaked open, and Shiya was dragged out, her hands and feet bound in heavy chains. Her once vibrant eyes now reflected fear and defiance as she was forced to the front of the balcony where Bhallaladeva stood. He reached out, gripping her long, dark hair, and yanked her forward, ensuring she was visible to those below.

The rebels came to an abrupt halt. Their eyes widened as they recognized Shiya, Mahendra Baahubali's sister, bound and at the mercy of their enemy. Devasena’s heart clenched, her warrior’s facade faltering momentarily as she saw the young woman in such a vulnerable state. Mahendra’s hands curled into fists, his anger seething beneath his calm exterior.

Bhallaladeva’s smirk widened as he leaned down, his face close to Shiya’s. The scent of her hair filled his senses, and he revelled in the power he held over her—and, by extension, over the army below. He nuzzled his nose against her hair, feeling the involuntary shiver that ran through her body. Despite her defiance, he could sense her fear and something else—something she was desperately trying to suppress.

Shiya cursed herself inwardly for the way her body reacted to his touch. This man was a monster, cruel and ruthless, and yet his proximity ignited a confusing mix of emotions within her. She bit her lip to stifle a gasp as his teeth grazed the delicate skin near her ear. Bhallaladeva smiled wickedly, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"Take another step," Bhallaladeva’s voice boomed across the battlefield, "and you’ll be collecting your precious Shiya’s lifeless body." He tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back slightly to expose her neck, a silent threat that chilled the blood of those watching.

The rebels stood frozen, their plan in tatters. Mahendra and Kattappa exchanged glances, the need for a new strategy clear. They couldn’t risk Shiya’s life, not when she was so vulnerable. This wasn’t just a battle of swords and strength—it was a battle of wills, and Bhallaladeva was forcing their hand.

Satisfied with their hesitation, Bhallaladeva pushed Shiya back towards the palace's interior. His hand found its way to her neck, his grip firm as he forced her to follow him inside. Shiya stumbled slightly, her heart pounding with fear and confusion. Her mind raced, searching for a way to escape and warn her brother, but Bhallaladeva’s hold was relentless.

As they disappeared from view, Bhallaladeva’s mind buzzed with the thrill of his victory. The look of terror in the eyes of his enemies was intoxicating, but the woman at his side—this unexpected and intriguing little bird—added a new dimension to his triumph.

Mahendra and the others watched helplessly as the palace doors closed behind them. The sight of Shiya in chains, at the mercy of Bhallaladeva, left a bitter taste in their mouths. They couldn’t afford to lose her but couldn’t rush in blindly.

"We need a new plan," Kattappa murmured, his voice heavy with the weight of their situation.

Mahendra nodded, his mind already racing through possibilities. They had come so far, but now faced a ruthless and cunning enemy. Bhallaladeva had shown them that this battle would not be won by strength alone.

But one thing was sure—Mahendra would not rest until his sister was safe and Bhallaladeva’s reign of terror was ended. No matter the cost.

***

Inside the palace, Bhallaladeva led Shiya deeper into the labyrinth of halls, his grip never loosening. Shiya’s heart pounded as she tried to steel herself against her overwhelming situation. She couldn’t afford to show weakness—not to him or the man who held her fate.

But as she walked, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, how his presence filled the space around her, and it took everything to keep her composure.

Bhallaladeva’s mind was already working on how to use this situation to his advantage. The little bird at his side was more than just a captive—she was a weapon he intended to wield with precision. And perhaps, along the way, he would find out just how much power he held over her.

For now, though, he would savour the victory he had already claimed. The rebels were at his mercy, and with Shiya as his leverage, Mahishmati would remain unchallenged, its throne unshaken.

But in the back of his mind, the image of Mahendra Baahubali haunted him—a reminder that the ghost of Amarendra was still alive, and this war was far from over.

And as for Shiya, he couldn’t help but wonder—how long before she would break under the weight of his will? Or perhaps, just perhaps, would she be the one to challenge him in ways he had never anticipated?

Only time will tell.

***

After being pulled away from the balcony where Bhallaladeva had held her in his grip, Shiya was led back into the palace. But instead of returning to the cold, dark cell she had been thrown into earlier, she was taken to a lavish chamber. The sudden change in her surroundings caught her off guard—how could her circumstances shift so drastically in such a short period?

The chamber was adorned with luxurious silks and rich items, starkly contrasting to the grim cell she had been kept before. Before she could process the situation, an elderly woman with a kind smile entered the room.

"I am Bangara Amma," the woman introduced herself, her voice soft and soothing. "I’ve been instructed to take care of you."

Shiya narrowed her eyes, suspicion immediately rising. How could one man, Bhallaladeva, be so mercurial? One moment, he was a predator, lurking too close, making her feel things she loathed herself for, and the next, he seemed to want to treat her like some cherished possession.

Bangara Amma guided her to the bathhouse connected to the chamber. Shiya reluctantly followed, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. As she was bathed and dressed in luxurious silks that clung to her skin, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being a prisoner in golden chains. The richness of the attire did nothing to ease her discomfort; it only heightened her awareness of the strange, twisted game Bhallaladeva was playing.

Left alone in the chamber again, Shiya immediately began searching for a way out. The walls were thick, the windows high and unyielding, but as she scanned the floor, something caught her eye—a sharp nail, probably left behind by accident. She quickly grabbed it and hid it in her hair, a reassuring weapon in the face of her helplessness.

She moved to the balcony, briefly considering the idea of escaping by climbing down. But the height was dizzying, and she realized with a sinking feeling that it was impossible—there was no way to scale down with just a saree. Before she could think of another plan, footsteps echoed through the chamber. She stiffened, knowing exactly who it was.

She faced the outside, trying to ignore the growing tension in her body as Bhallaladeva’s presence loomed behind her. She could feel the heat of his body even before he spoke.

"Not planning to jump, are we?" Bhallaladeva’s voice was laced with amusement as he chuckled softly.

Shiya kept her eyes fixed on the view, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. "What if I did?" she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Bhallaladeva laughed, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped closer until she could feel his breath on her neck, the proximity suffocating and intoxicating all at once. He was so close that the warmth of his body seemed to seep into hers, a sensation that made her knees weak. To her shame, a faint moan escaped her lips, but thankfully, it was too soft for him to hear.

"Well, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to my little bird, now would we?" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice sending a jolt through her entire being. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she swallowed hard to maintain her composure.

"Why do you care?" Shiya managed to ask, turning her head slightly to look at him, though she regretted it immediately. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, and yet there was something else—something that made her pulse race even faster.

Bhallaladeva smirked, clearly enjoying her defiance. Despite the tremor in her voice, he could see that she was trying to stand her ground. His little bird was brave, even in her fear.

Without warning, he reached out, his hand wrapping lightly around her throat. He pulled her back against him, her body now fully pressed against his. Shiya gasped at the contact, the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of her saree, making her breath hitch.

His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from her throat to her lips, the touch sending a shockwave of unwanted desire through her. Shiya’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the railing, her body betraying her mind’s refusal to acknowledge his effect on her.

"I care for what is mine," Bhallaladeva whispered, his voice dark and possessive. "And my little bird, everything that ventures into my kingdom belongs to me. That includes you."

Just as he loomed above her, merely away from her lips as his breath covered her face, causing her to tremble inside, a part of her wanted his lips on her and wanted to taste him and have his way with her.

With that, he released her, stepping back as if nothing had happened. But Shiya was left trembling, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her mind was a whirl of confusion and fear, her innocence tarnished by the dangerous man who now claimed her as his own.

As Bhallaladeva left the chamber, Shiya collapsed against the balcony railing, her heart pounding. What had she become in this short span of time? A prisoner? A pawn? Or something more twisted—something she didn’t even want to think about?

But what scares her is that her body and mind are trying to betray herself and others to be with him and have what she craves. HIM

_______________________________________

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allari-ammayi · 1 year ago

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Rain | Pt. 1 《Varsham》 D. Shekar

☆Danny Shekar x Fem! Reader☆

Synopsis: Having never exchanged words despite their obvious romantic tension, the younger sister of 'Bheemla Nayak', Y/n, and his enemy, Danny Shekar, are strandered alone at a bus stop during an hours' long rain fall, left together and start to feel an obvious spark. 《Pt. 1, 2.2k Words》

Note: First post, very excited, and yes, I know my writing is very bad, but trust me, I'll get better!! Anyway, massive smash to the loml. Pls tell me I wasn't the only one violently simping over Danny from the moment he appeared on screen. Btw, this is the y/n version of this story. If you wish to read a version with an oc in it, you can find it on my OC masterlist page!! ALSO, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 》 By interacting with my works or posts, you agree to be exposed to my content and are confirming that you are willingly reading my writing!!

“The rain was unexpected- Just like us. But instead of embracing it, we ran from it. Over and over until we got tired and relented to our yearning desires for each other.”

The duo repeated this very phrase to each other every single night when the moon hung low on the starry night and their windows were wide open to let the fresh breeze of the night sky in as they cuddled together under their silken sheets.

One night it was Y/n and the other it was Danny. But it was always the same. The rain was unexpected. Just like them, but instead of embracing it, they ran from it. Over and over until they got tired and relented to their yearning desire for each other.

It was a sort of weird comfort to them. A grateful reminder to thank that one sudden summer rain that brought the two together in the first place.

But some nights, the duo thought over and even reconsidered a little, was it really the rain that brought them together in the first place or was it Y/n’s brother, the famous ‘Bheemla Nayaak’, who just so happened to be Danny’s number-one rival and vice versa.

But whatever it was, boy were they glad it happened. That night was the same, Danny and Y/n were lying on their shared bed of their home, surrounded by a comforting homey feeling. A feeling of belonging and comfort.

Y/n’s back was pressed against Danny’s chest as his arms were secured around her smaller body, his fingers fidgeting with strands of Y/n’s hair. No words needed to be exchanged between the two to confirm their safety and love in the relationship.

All they needed was each other’s presence and all else was set into place by itself. Their love was enough to fill the room up.

But of course, it wasn’t always like this. It never starts like this and ends well. Maybe that’s why Danny and Y/n’s futures were so secure and well-tied together. Because they had a rocky start.

Because the first thing they witnessed of each other was their worst. Because they accepted each other’s worsts and embraced them, rather than finding out about them later in the relationship and seeing them as deal-breakers.

For y/n, when she first saw Danny, all she could remember of him was his arrogance. His rotten wealth. His disgusting attitude. His shameless disobedience of rules. His horrid way of getting his way with his money. And of course, her brother’s loathing for him. And of course, even she hated him at the start. As far as hating someone simply because of their sibling’s hatred for them goes.

For Danny, when he first saw Y/n, he was initially mesmerised by her. She looked magical. Half drenched in the dark night’s rain as she stumbled into the police station where Danny was being held for travelling across state borders with restricted amounts of alcohol. He stared at her with semi-wide eyes.

Maybe it was a trick of his sleepy daze or the hallucinogenic lick of alcohol still simmering on his lips because only a second later, it disappeared and was replaced with a dreadful annoyance.

But this only happened when Y/n entered the station, looking towards the one person who Danny wanted to stab the life out of, simply for existing and called him ‘Annaya’ {Trans. ‘Older brother’}.

Then, he saw some more negative traits in her. They didn’t exactly make her a bad person, but they made Danny feel a somewhat weird emotion towards her. What do they call it? Hatred? Loath? Disgust? No. That’s right. It was pity. Pity’s a rare feeling to come from Danny, so when it came, it was definitely something special.

The more Danny saw her, the more he noticed them. And the longer he observed her, from afar of course, the more he knew why.

And the more he observed, the more pity he felt for her.

Her over-obedience. Her pitiful submissiveness. Her pride, or rather a lack-there-of. Her dependence on the male figure in her life. Her inability to stand up for herself.

But the longer Danny harboured his animosity for Bheem, the more he realised that none of this was Y/n’s fault, but rather came from the way she was raised. The way she ran her brother’s errands for him, bringing him his lunch boxes and his tea, needing him to drive her to places and back home. She was basically his shadow. Never her own person, with her own feelings, responsibilities or opinions.

Y/n was almost always around Bheem, which meant that Danny and Y/n saw each other far more than they wished, but the two never exchanged words. Merely stolen, short glances towards each other or the few seconds of awkward eye contact they would share occasionally.

It became almost a routine for Danny to hope to coincidentally bump into her during his next antic with Bheem. She was practically his driving force to constantly torture him. His small hope that the next time he and Bheem cross paths due to his latest plan, he’d have Y/n trailing behind him. So he and y/n could share a few more seconds' worth of eye contact with mixed meanings and cloudy intentions.

But one evening changed it all. It changed their entire dynamic and it changed the way their entire worlds moved. It changed the way their feelings danced and it changed the way the other perceived the world.

Y/n, who took it upon herself to run home for another one of Bheem’s silly little errands for her, and Danny who had successfully gotten himself lost in the dry land and borders of the forest collided for the first time. Not literally, but almost.

Y/n, who was practically out of breath from all the running in her not-so-comfortable footwear and Danny who had been roaming the area for hours, frustrated and dying of dehydration crossed paths when y/n finally gave up running, dropped her palms to her knees and huffed for breath like there was no tomorrow.

Danny only caught sight of her when he roughly shoved some stray long dry grass out of his face as he exited the maze of madness, still lost as ever, being new to the area.

He looked around desperately to find something or someone to help him, but when he caught sight of the out-of-breath y/n who was pink in the face and clearly tired from running, he felt his heart physically jump.

He didn’t exactly know why, he’d never felt this way before. Maybe it was because he and the girl had never been alone together. Previously, on every occasion that they were together, there was always her brother in between them nagging about justice and his job and what-not. But why would he even feel this way in the first place?

It’s not like he felt anything for her. But maybe it was because of the countless hours that he thought of her even when unnecessary.

The hours he spent laying on his bed, initially only feeling pity for her, then starting to spend hours analysing her emotions and traits and why she does what she does before eventually spending more hours, laying on his bed, staring into the ceiling, thinking of nothing but her eyes. Her beautiful doe eyes.

But of course not! Danny shook his head to get those ridiculous thoughts out of his head. Danny spent the next few seconds, thinking of an actual, reasonable and proper reason, and came to the conclusion that he only felt a jump in his heart because he was worried that like always, the siblings would be together and where Y/n was, so was Bheem.

And Danny couldn’t afford Bheem’s bitter satisfaction from Danny being so lost and helpless. Yes, of course! That’s the only reason! Or at least that’s what Danny said in a hopefully convincing manner.

But who was he trying to convince?

Himself?

But still, even that thought bruised his ego a little. But still, this was the only idea that didn’t include some ridiculous fantasy about Y/n. Danny watched as Y/n regained her composure and landed her hands on hips or on her back before she looked up at the sky.

Only then did Danny realise how creepy he looked, staring at a helpless girl, half-hidden in the tall bushes. Danny jumped out from the bushes, glad that Y/n hadn’t spotted him yet and when Y/n looked towards him and realised his presence, he folded his arms behind him and tilted his chin up in a better-than-you kind of way.

The second Y/n saw Danny walking around the bushes, she tensed up for a second, half-scared of the fact that he could have planned something related to her in hopes of attacking her brother and half for the same reason he was. Simply because they had never been along together.

Y/n’s breath hitched when Danny began walking in her direction, looking as prideful and arrogant as ever. Danny gulped as he walked right past Y/n, his eyes secretly trailing to the side of his face to catch a glimpse of her as he went.

Y/n twiddled with her thumbs and at the awkward moment between them, the heavens groaned and urged the two together with a little crazy weather. Unexpectedly and completely out of blue, the initially bright blazing sun was covered up by heavy and dark rain clouds, meaning that nothing good could come from this.

Y/n looked up at the clouds and when she felt a soft kiss on her nose from raindrop, she felt her heart drop. She had no umbrella and she was miles away form home which meant it’d take her another half-an hour to get home, and that was if she ran.

The same was with Danny. He also didn’t have an umbrella. After-all, who could’ve predectied this weather?

“What-?” Danny let out as he wiped a raindrop off his forehead, the duo started to get worried, still exchanging no words. When the sudden sound of pitter-patter surrounded Danny and Y/n, they turned to each other in mutual worry and Y/n looked desperately around.

“Come, Follow me.” Y/n said after a short consideration. She couldn’t escape the rain by herself and let Danny die out in the wet cold. He too was a human. A human that was hated by her older brother, but still a human. Bheem could have argued otherwise, but it didn’t matter.

Danny turned to Y/n and when he saw her already sprinting away, he looked around before back at her.

“Hey-!” He called out reaching an arm out towards her, but Y/n didn’t stop. Danny let out a sigh of frustration, raked his hair back with his fingers before he begrudgingly followed behind her.

“Just this way,” Y/n said, lifting her voni a little as she ran.

“Do you even know where you’re going??” Danny asked her, struggling to keep up with the slippery little minx of a girl, y/n was.

Y/n came to a sudden halt, and when Danny nearly crashed into the smaller girl, she threateningly pulled her index finger out at him and she narrowed her eys.

“Do you want to get drenched in the rain or do you want to get shelter?” She asked, her voice dangerously leaking with threats.

Danny was left speechless at this. Never once had he ever seen Y/n this way. But then again, he never really saw her that much to begin with, but still. This was a true shock for the man.

“I- Uh- Yeah- Yeah, I want to- I want to get shelter.” Danny struggled out, stumbling over his words at the threatening smaller girl.

“Aithe noru musukoni ra. {Trans.: Then keep quite and follow me.)” Danny automatically nodded, Y/n’s sudden high demanding voice instantly taking control of him.

Within seconds, Y/n led Danny straight to a tattered old bus stop. It was not at all what Danny had in mind, but he was willing to take whatever he could to get out of this rain even a little. The duo rushed to get under the shade, their clothes already damp from the early rain.

From the moment their skins were no longer being tapped on by the rain drops, Danny and y/n were both quick to start drying themselves the best they could.

The tattered bus stop consisted of just one, one and a half meter long bench with a shade that looked like it could fall apart any minute.

“This was the place you were talking about when you said shelter?” Danny asked, looking around before taking a seat. Y/n opted to sit as far as she could, even willing to let half of her leg hang off the end of the bench if it meant putting some distance between her and Danny.

“Let me know if it isn’t up to your fancy posh tastes, and I can tear it apart in seconds,” Y/n said, looking at the ground, and pulling her knees to her chest. “Then we can happily die out in the rain.” She added, quietly.

Danny rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine for now.”

“It will be. We just have to wait a few minutes, it’ll be gone and we can go our own ways.” If only it were that easy.

To be continued...

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