#baahubali fanfic

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - I | BEAST OUT OF HIM

MASTERLIST

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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

_______________________________________

taglist: @mahi-wayy @ahamasmiyodhah @whippersnappersbookworm  @harinishivaa  @willkatfanfromasia @thirst4light  @hollogramhallucination  @celestesinsight ​  @curiousgalacticsoul  @themorguepoet @tranquilsightseer @mayakimayahai @gloriouspurpose01 @jkdaddy01 @whyishekinda @salaarfanindia @aprofoundrickmaniac @toomanyfanficsbruh

[veerasposts]

you know what I miss rn? The niche desi fandoms that were hyperactive for a while and slowly fizzled out. So many friendships were born out of these fandoms. There three that were the most impactful out of these for me. So RIP Bahubali Fandom, RRR Fandom and Ponniyin Selvan Fandom. Also are y'all still sneaking out here?

[carminavulcana]

Summary-

Who was Devaratha Shouryaanga Raisaar?

To some, he was their savior. To some, he was a benevolent demon. To others, he was death personified.

But for Bujjima, he was the embodiment of love and cuddles and all things warm and alive.

A story about Deva rescuing a dog.

Snippet(s)-

I

“You will need someone,” he had insisted gently. “Even you cannot walk this path alone. If not for yourself, take me with you for your amma’s sake. I will not add to your burdens. But I will protect you and her from harm.”

“I can take care of myself,” Deva had retorted. “You don’t have to tear yourself away from the only life you have known.” 

“I do so willingly,” Bilal had said and placed himself at Deva’s feet. “Take me with you.” 

And so, here they were, packing away their peace, their existence, the last shreds of normalcy they would know. There would be no goodbyes said to the neighborhood families that had become their friends over the years. There would be no explanation left for the children his amma had taught all these years. As for himself, well, Bharuch was going to lose its best mechanic and its most talented wicketkeeper. 

All things considered, it was a small price to pay in exchange for safety; theirs as well as their own. 

II

“I’m going to keep him. I always wanted a dog. And you never allowed me to have one when I was younger. Well, now I have one. And I didn’t find him. He found me.” 

Amma made a face. She didn’t think it was a good idea to have a dog in the house, especially such a small, weak, runty little thing. 

But even her stone-cold heart could not deny the flicker of childlike joy in her son’s eyes. It made him look younger, more innocent, almost like someone he could have been in a different time and place. 

[esbee-01]

My Favorite Still from my first Baahubali Comic Ayanika

Read the full comic now on Fanon!

[sinistergooseberries]

SALAAR (SPOILER ALERT)

continuing my tags from a previous post (sorry 😭 @deadloverscity) : like i said, i do think salaar is a good story so far. I like the world-building, I like the tribe coalition system that becomes a background for our story, and i like the fact that varadha and deva are in a toxic yaoi relationship.

im not gonna lie tho, i just haaaate the cinematography and lighting in prashant neel's movies. it's always a bad time there. It's like slapping a vignette over every frame of the movie, and it takes away any colour whatsoever. I understand that he wants to go for a dark vibe, but trust me, dark vibes can be achieved even without making the entire movie dark and invisible. I literally cannot see the actors doing any action! It's bad! It's not enjoyable. As a typical Telugu moviegoer (and assuming the movie was made for a predominantly telugu audience), I enjoy a somewhat vibrant colour scheme. So far, in all of our movies and even the mega movies (if you have watched RRR and Baahubali) there is a lot colour and imagery going on in the movies. I think in Prashant neel's cinemas, all of this is taken away. He has a set of colours that appear in his films consistently - which are black, grey and red. This colour scheme i feel, if repeatedly used, can be a bit boring and may take away the vibrance of the story. the stark contrasts (imo) do not emphasise the story, they overshadow it. still, take this w a grain of salt.

However, considering the fact that this is just his fourth film, ill cut him some slack. But man, if he is going to make movies for a telugu audience, i hope he lets go of the vignette filter.

next, the worldbuilding. i like it - here is a country that is completely separated from india, yet dictates certain aspects of it. i like that they chose an isolated place that evolves in parallel with the mainland, but retains the values of the tribes, making this place mythical and real at the same time. i was really intrigued by the tribe lore - about how the mannars ousted the shouryangas, and how rajamannar basically went against his own father's rule-book and is now facing dire consequences from bharava, whose tribe has the right to the throne right now. i also love love love loveeeeeee the fact that deva is the rightful heir to the throne - and also also the fact that whether he knows about this or not is left ambiguous. i love how this adds another layer to amma's hatred of khansaar and OH. MY. GOD. chef's kiss i love it.

as a personal taste, i don't like violence and epic fights tm overshadowing the narrative, which i feel the movie does. however, kannada film-making might be different. idk, i havent seen many kannada films other than kantara and kgf. the former is good i absolutely love it - the story is fantastic, the fight scenes are chumma, ufff i can praise it for days. the latter is pretty meh for me.

another thing i love about the movie is.. well, varadha and deva. dude, what is up with telugu guys unintentionally making queer movies these days? what is up with that yallll??? ohmygod. when i tell you that i smelled the romance im not lying. dude. dudeee. the whole friends to enemies to (maybe) friends/lovers arc theyve got going on? oooh baby i can feel the fanfics writing themselves. the whole soaked in blood-fighting-together scene? it was a miracle i wasnt jumping up and down on my seat. the dialogue in that scene 'i have friends more handsome than you' and then varadha getting kinda jealous and shit. lovely. the whole don't touch him thing that deva has got going on - baby boy just kiss him. and man. it's beautiful tragic and im writing a fanfic.

soo yeah this is my rant about salaar. im expecting something from it lol.

[gifseafins]

Just like the first fic I posted here on Tumblr, the VVR one.

The moment I regain access to AO3, this fic will receive a "deluxe version", with the addition of poetry, images and gifs, as well as its respective Portuguese version !

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Fanfic: The Master of the Casino Chapter 1: Tarak Rama Rao

Chapter 2: Ram Konidela

If there was one certainty the Ram had in life, it's that he definitely shouldn't have come on this trip.

But his friends eventually convinced him. Saying it would be the perfect celebration. And in a way they were right.

As Bokkala Kumar, one of Ram's best friends, who ended up being the organizer of the whole trip, said…

-Las Vegas is an amazing destination. -Far enough from home. -And perfect for having fun without the constant supervision of the family. -And with an almost endless variety of fun, even the Ram can have fun !

And everyone laughed at that statement. Ram's personality was a constant joke between them. They knew he really didn't want to go. That Ram was never given to travel, parties or large gatherings.

But Ram agreed with his friends this time. They were definitely right ! Everyone deserved a rest after so many college assignments and exams.

Las Vegas was the place to be. And Las Vegas turned out to be an amazing place for everyone. The lights were almost blinding they were so strong and bright. The sounds, the smells, everything was wonderful. And the limousine that Bokkala rented so that everyone could tour the city, just completed the spectacle that trip had become.

Then the limousine stops in front of an extremely luxurious building with an incredible 60 floors. But Ram couldn't help but laugh when he saw the name of the casino his friend chose.

-Casino Hyderabad ? -Serious ?

Trust Bokkala Kumar to cross the ocean, for the sole purpose of gambling, drinking, running away from home and having fun, and yet choosing a place that references India itself.

And Ram knew that whoever decorated that place was definitely a fan of S.S. Rajamouli. It was like being inside Baahubali's palace. In fact, if Ram wasn't miscalculating, and he never was ! That casino had the same layout as the throne room in the movie.

Gigantic columns divided the space into three rooms, with a central corridor flanked by a row of slot machines.

In the space where princes and generals would sit, luxurious Poker, Baccarat and Three Card Poker tables.

The left and right sides of the columns were true mirrors of each other.

Roulette, Blackjack, and many other tables mingled harmoniously with electronic games of all kinds, as well as several arcade machines.

And on both sides, at the end of the casino's side spaces, bars built in the same architecture as the flying boat shown in the film, making the whole place something grand and magnificent.

The central corridor, which in the film would serve to take people to the throne, in the casino, performed the same function.

The corridor directs you to several replicas of all the thrones shown in the film, in an area free for photographs, where people could feel part of that history.

Behind the thrones was a grand staircase, and on either side of it, luxurious elevators, all of which had the same function, taking them to the upper floors where the nightclub was located, as well as the rooms available for rent.

But the most impressive thing about it all was a kind of box made of mirrors that projected over the thrones, and that seemed to be supported only by steel cables that came from the ceiling.

And Ram was willing to bet anything that the casino's security center worked inside that mirrored box, because if those mirrors were like the mirrors found in police stations, whoever was in that room would have a 180 degree view of the entire casino.

While Ram was gaping, admiring the place. He noticed Bokkala looking at him expectantly.

-Okay, you did well, good choice. -Happy now ?

-The introverted genius praising me ? -Of course ! -And now the best part, LET'S ENJOY !!!!

And at first they were having a lot of fun together. Betting on slot machines. Acting like kids in the arcade hall. And taking pictures like real pre-teens.

But in a short time each one ended up going to one side. Seeking amidst that spectacle, his own entertainment.

And that's when things started to go wrong for the Ram. When he found himself alone and started wandering the halls of the casino… When he found himself alone and in front of Black Jack's table… When he found himself alone and with no one to stop his mathematical mind from working…

There were no secrets in Black Jack for Ram. At least, not for a mind like his. And hand after hand, the Ram always won !

He'd seen enough movies about casinos to know this could go terribly wrong. But Ram just couldn't stop.

The emotion of every bet… The ecstasy felt with each victory… Everything acted like drugs on Ram's system. He quickly became addicted to these feelings. And the ecstasy those emotions gave her.

And because of this euphoria, Ram did not realize when a security guard declared in a loud voice:

-This table is closed !

Nor the danger that phrase represented for him, until two security guards grabbed him by the arms and took him into an elevator.

On the way, Ram tried to reason with the guards. Explain what was going on. Looking around in an attempt to find his friends. But all actions were in vain.

And the moment the elevator doors closed, Ram knew he was likely to be killed. And he just hoped the casino would tell his friends where his body would be dumped…

The moment the elevator doors opened he was pushed with such violence that Ram ended up losing his balance.

And Ram found himself lying at someone's feet. Slowly he raised his eyes. Gradually bringing to mind the image of the most handsome man Ram had ever seen in his life.

And before he could realize it, his face was covered in an intense shade of red.

-Hello boy !

And that man's voice, awakening in Ram all kinds of desire…

-

End of Chapter 2

-

And no, I haven't started chapter 3 yet. I said I was going to hold this one off for a while until I started the third one, but my curiosity to know what you would think of this chapter spoke louder.

I overreacted with the description of the casino, so sorry !

For those who don't remember, the throne room in Baahubali that served as a model was this one 👇

-

[ladydarkey]

Today was such a great and wonderful day!!! 🥰

Chai and a good rest to start the day.

Work was okay, got a LOOOOOT distraction because of our lovely boys charan and tarak 🥹❤️(and of course our god Jakanna)

So many new photos of them and content 🥹

Dance Class was so much fun ☺️

At home my partner already cooked Bratkartoffeln (Fried potatoes), made a chai, cleaned the bathroom and shopped groceries. 🥰

Then I gamed with my friends a bit and I actually wanted to watch Baahubali 2. But suddenly it's 9:30 PM 😅 and the movie is 2:40h long 🤣

I think I will go to bed and read some fanfics 🙈

[chokolateaddictz]

Bahhhh 😅. I don’t even have a lot of people I interact with on tumblr .

So thanks for the tag Clau!

Fav color: Currently orange. (Changes very often)

Currently reading: Wangxian or Yizhan fanfics. Time to insert my current fav fic by coriander bunnies coz why not 😅 https://archiveofourown.org/works/39405966

Last song: Currently listening to DO’s That’s okay https://open.spotify.com/track/2Ghu1DdMwxS3VAyB7i38Wo?si=lhvnpkDyRvS8Z2q7srEi8A.

Last series: Last episode watched - Young Royals still on season 1 slow and steady. Last completed series is History 3 Make our Days count. Yes, I stopped at episode 9. It’s canon.

Last Movie: watched Brahmastra in bits and pieces only to scream - Preetam plagiarized again every time a song popped up.

Complete movie - Badhai Do. HIGHLY RECOMMEND. Story of a lavender marriage.

Currently working on - learning Korean at snail’s pace. No I do not have any streak records in Drop’s. My maximum is 15 days. Can I beat that ? We will find out.

share 10 different favorite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order

Draco Malfoy (HP)

Doko Jin~ the greatest love

Baahubali - Baahubali

Hermione granger (HP)

Teh - I told sunset about you

Cheon Sung Yi - my love from another star

Lan Zhan - CQL /Mdzs

Wei Wuxian - CQL/ MDZS

Prem - h77h

Seo jung in - smile you

Can’t tag ten people 😅 coz don’t know 10 people @heikemaria @dayla1950

[bleedinknight]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Baahubali (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bhallaladeva (Baahubali)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Bhallaladeva, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Canon Era, short fic, who is bhadra's mom? Summary:

The sun was setting. The King of Mahishmati stood on his balcony watching his prisoner, his sister-in-law limp around in her prison. Seeing her chains brought conflicts in his mind, or did the conflicts arise from the woman who stood beside him.?

@ruminationsofaraven  @heyifinallyhaveablog @mayavanavihariniharini @carminavulcana @medhasree @avani008 @incurablescribbler

[abandonedbloggg1]

Kanna Nee Thoongada, A Baahubali Fanfiction

Chapter Three - Jai Mahishmati

Word Count: 2269

Beneath the merciless sun and surrounded by stone, the Kuntalan delegation felt as though they would cook before the ceremony even began. The gardens and pools scattered across the city provided a reprieve for some, but not for the visiting royals, their seats of honour fully exposed to the belligerent, dusty heat. As Devasena strode forward, the empty throne of Mahishmati coming into view, she could not help but yearn for her waterfalls and rivers, the comfort of home. She became increasingly certain that Mahishmati held nothing favourable to her, and that she would demand a swift return home as soon as she had dealt with Shivdu, or whoever he was. 

At least, Devasena thought with pride, she was not invested in the pitiful competition that had emerged among the other delegations. Falling asleep the night before, Vaishnavi had recounted to her the whispers of the Mahishmati handmaids as she stared up at the tent canopy. The Raja of Vijayapuri, they said, had shamelessly boasted of the innumerable virtues his daughters possessed in front of the whole court, as though the show of arrogance would sway Sivagami Devi. The Raja of Trayambaka, they said, had showered the royal family in gifts and tributes, the finest silks, gold and jewels the country had to offer, as though the show of wealth would sway Sivagami Devi. And the most scandalous of all, the Raja of Madhulaipura, they said, had not even responded to the invite, instead Yuvrani Varuni had presented herself before the court, as though the show of boldness would sway Sivagami Devi. As Devasena walked passed them all she could feel their glares in her back, another rival to contend with as they clamoured for the attentions of one man. Well, Devasena thought, they are welcome to him. 

Not a moment had passed since Devasena had found her seat beside her brother when a roaring cry broke out amongst the crowd, resounding against the stone buildings until it was thunder - Jai Mahishmati! Jai Mahishmati! Jai Mahishmati! Almost in unison they turned, to see the great Rajamatha Sivagami Devi arrive in all her stately glory. Though silver streaked her hair, a warrior’s strength - a mother’s strength - remained deep in her bones, a dignity that surpassed the touch of years, and despite herself Devasena was in awe. A part of her had wondered, hoped even, that once the regal state in which she had been introduced diminished the Rajamtha would be revealed to be as any other woman. She was wrong. The woman that ascended the platform was nothing if not a queen of queens, second only to the divine - and she knew it. 

And then there was a rumble, like a storm brewing, and it was if the air itself chanted and sang for the kingdom. The anthem announcing the presence of Baahubali. 

But when the royal chariot passed her, and the king’s face came into view, Devasena saw that it was not Baahubali before her. Baahubali, the great prince, Baahubali, the esteemed warrior, Baahubali the future king, was not the trickster she saw. It was Shivdu arrayed in the finery of kings, it was Shivdu who ascended the steps to the throne, it was Shivdu who was blessed by Sivagami Devi herself. It was for Shivdu the people cried. Baahubali, Baahubali, Baahubali, a chant for a god more than a man, a chant for a king. 

Amarendra did not see her, however. He had imagined the moment their eyes met over and over again, ruminating on the exact expression she would wear when he sent her a mischievous grin. Would her beautiful, dark eyes grow wider when she recognised him? Would her lips part ever so slightly, before tightening into that familiar frown? He never found out, of course. The entire spectacle had overwhelmed him, the sunlight glinting off the gold of the crowd and their thunderous clamour seemingly separating him from the world. He had not been able to think of anything else except the pride so evident in the Rajamatha’s eyes as she crowned her Baahu king. 

After that, the new king was hurried away, back through the palace halls to prepare for the feast. Cloistered in his chambers, he attempted to regain his bearings, while his mother and Kattappa shone with pride beside him. Amarendra thought he could see all their hopes for the future in their faces, and not for the first time indulged himself in wondering what his future would look like as a king, as a husband, and then his heart gave a leap at the idea of him as a father. Of course, he had to do something very important before any of that might occur… He could not avoid the trickster grin that spread on his face at the thought of the yuvrani’s shock.

“Baahu, king or not, is the same I boy I raised,” Sivagami noted fondly, while Amarendra ducked his head in a bashful attempt to conceal his amusement.

“Your Majesty, I would say that he is the man you raised,” Kattappa suggested, and the Rajamatha laughed. 

“Yes, a great man, and a great king, too,” She said, and looked directly into her son’s eyes as she spoke. “You will live in legend, Amarendra Baahubali,” It was as though the very utterance of his name sent ripples in time, solidifying his place in folktale and lore for millennia to come. A name she had given him, when he was parentless and nameless. “Your reign will be long and glorious,” Sivagami would ensure it was so. Her throne may have been built on the blood of her enemies, but Baahu’s would be built on his strength and her toil. It was as it should be. 

“And fruitful, too, Amma,” At that, his mother shone, as he knew she would. For months he had been obedient to her and her wishes for him to settle down, but not actively interested in the future she had mapped out for him. Now, well, now Amarendra could see his future clearly. 

“You and your children will ensure that Mahishmati prospers for a thousand years,” Kattappa promised him, his face radiant at the prospect, and Baahu felt more elated than ever. His uncle would be a good grandfather for his children, when they came in time. 

“You should ready for the feast,” Sivagami directed, her mind moving fast. “All your esteemed guests will be in attendance,” All of your choices for a bride, Baahu understood it to mean.

~

The Kuntala delegation had intended to arrive at the palace earlier than their international  counterparts, but Devasena realised that the banquet was clearly much anticipated when she stepped out of the palanquin to see that all the other royal guests had already been welcomed into the new king’s halls. It did not ease her mood, and so she could hardly be blamed, given the context, for her following actions. For, instead of accepting the blessings and welcomes of the nobility that awaited on the steps, she walked ahead of her congregation and without so much of a thought for majesty and royal propriety marched in through the door as though it were birth right to do so. 

The attendants stood dumbfounded at the sides, the officials gaped and the foreign diplomats quickly began to gossip. Of the Kuntala party, Jaya Varma was the only one who recovered in time enough to follow her, so accustomed was he to the unpredictable nature of his sister’s pride. He weaved through the frozen crowd in haste, leaving his queen to salvage the situation in a diplomatic, if panicked, fashion. It seemed, and not for the last time, that Deva was always leaving destruction in her wake after all. Not that she payed any heed to that, storming through the halls the princess had only one goal in mind, and she was determined to achieve it. 

“I demand a private audience with His Majesty,” She announced, coming to stand outside what was evidently the king’s quarters. The austere halls leading to it were littered in flowers and other festive ornaments, and they had appeared even more vast as she neared her target, the number of people reducing until it was just her and guards that sent curious looks her way, exchanging confused glances. 

As the yuvrani of Kuntala, the daughter of the most venerated ruler the kingdom still held in memory and it’s future queen, Devasena had rarely encountered someone who dared to refuse her. If it was not her status that intimidated them, it was demeanour, the manner of a warrior queen who’s iron will alone meant she could battle anything she encountered and triumph. Never in her life had she been responded to with mockery, therefore the guard’s reply, naturally, took her by surprise. 

“So would many other young women, my lady,” He joked, leering at her as he closed the distance between them. “Who are you to make a demand of a king?” 

“Yuvrani,” She corrected him coldly. Intimidation had never worked on her, and if he had been a smart man he would have seen the sharp edge in her eyes. “I am Devasena, yuvrani of Kuntala, and I demand an audience with His Majesty,” 

“How many more yuvrani shall request the same?” The guard asked, while his companion on the other side of the double doors watched apprehensively. “The shame of it!” He dared to add.

“I am the future queen of Kuntala, not a hopeful bride nor conquest, and you will do as I ask,” She repeated, enraged both by his insinuations and the insubordination. As if she had not already felt humiliated enough by Shivdu’s actions - or whoever he was, this Baahubali. 

The raised voice of the princess drew interest from a visitor, who had been sulkily making he was to pay his obediences to the new king. Even in his head, he thought of his brother’s new title with no small amount of bitterness. 

“Yuvrani,” A voice greeted her from behind, and Devasena snapped around to see him. Confronted by her furious gaze, the man before her did not balk away. 

“You are?”  

“The new commander of Mahishamti’s forces,” He introduced himself, clearly displeased by having to explain his status. “Bhallala Deva, son of Rajamatha Sivagami Devi,” Brother for the king. “You would have seen me being bestowed my rank,” Not that anyone had payed any interest to the commander in chief, not when King Baahubali was being crowned. “You are the yuvrani Devasena,” If he had not heard her fury from down the hall he could have guessed from her elaborate wardrobe, the blue hues of Kuntala wrapped proudly about her and silver swans adorning her. 

“Yes,” The yuvrani was struggling to maintain a cool exterior, despite all the rage and pride she had simmering just below the surface. There was something that unnerved her in his mannerisms, something that made her feel as though she was being scrutinised and assessed for weak points, like prey. Perhaps that was just the affect his eyes had on people. 

“You wish to speak with my brother?” Decorum dictated he refer to him as the king. Decorum could wait. 

“It is a matter most urgent, but I will not trouble you with it,” In the few seconds between her answer and his reply, Bhalla made an important calculation. A guess, a gamble, but one he considered worth the risk - the return was so much greater than the loss. 

“He will not be available for some time, I should think,” He said slowly, schooling his features into a mask. 

“It is his coronation day and the ceremonies are completed. What would keep him? Scheduling meetings would be inappropriate on such an auspicious occasion.” She demanded, clearly suspicious. He made her uneasy, and Devasena had learnt on the battle field to trust her instincts just as he had learnt how to take risks there. 

“It is household matters that concern him today, personal affairs and the like,” Bhalla answered without a pause. “If you must know, he is meeting with the Yuvrani Varuni. It seems he has a fondness for bold women such as her highness,” For a brief moment he saw the yuvrani’s perfect armour fail her, a flicker of her true thoughts passing over her face before they were gone, hidden, concealed among isolating mountains like her pretty kingdom. Was it hurt? Betrayal? Anguish? It was too fleeting to tell. 

If Devasena had been thinking straight, she might have seen the confused looks the guards behind the prince sent each other. She might have noticed how smoothly the words flowed, indicating a deliverer well versed in sly tricks and manipulations. She even may have listened to her heart, that railed against the very notion. Shivdu had tricked her, insulted her perhaps, but such slander was unjustified. Devasena, however, had always been someone who took action first, and reflected later. And that fact had the potential to destroy her.  

The regal delegation of Kuntala was not present at the feast that night. Rumour had spread of the fiery, impudent yuvrani that had stormed the palace in search of the king, and when she was refused access to him departed in a similarly thunderous manner. Some worried over what it meant for Mahishmati’s trade with the northern kingdom, or what the diplomatic implications of such a symbolic action meant for future relations. Most considered it a stroke of good luck, one less beauty for their preferred candidate to contend with in seeking the new king’s attentions. And if the new king looked disappointed, well, no one noticed. 

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[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - II | BEAST OUT OF HIM

MASTERLIST

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As nightfall blanketed the kingdom of Mahishmati, the tension among the rebels grew palpable. Mahendra Baahubali gathered his closest allies around the campfires. The palace loomed in the distance, which had to be breached to rescue Shiya and bring down Bhallaladeva.

Devasena stood beside her son, her heart heavy with worry for Shiya and Sanga, who were back in the Village praying for their victory; how she would let down the poor mother who made sure to save and protect her child Baaubali is all Devasena could think. Though her resolve was unshakable, the fear of what Bhallaladeva might do to the girl gnawed at her. Avantika, ever vigilant, kept a close watch on the palace, her mind working through how they could rescue Shiya without jeopardizing their mission.

Mahendra turned to Kattappa, the seasoned warrior who had faithfully served his family for years. "We need a way in," Mahendra said, his voice firm. "We must free Shiya, but we can't rush in blindly. Bhallaladeva will be expecting us."

Kattappa, his face etched with the wisdom of experience, nodded. "The palace is a fortress, heavily guarded and nearly impenetrable. But there are ways that few know about—secret passages built long ago for emergencies."

The group leaned in closer, listening intently as Kattappa continued. Trying to see if they can find a way to reach the sister of Baahubali

***

Shiya paced restlessly around the lavish chamber that had become her prison, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. The ornate walls and luxurious furnishings did little to comfort her; they only served as a stark reminder of her danger. Bhallaladeva's unsettling presence still lingered in her mind, his touch and words haunting her thoughts. 

She glanced around the room, her eyes darting from the heavy wooden door to the high balcony that offered no escape route. Frustration welled up inside her. How could she let herself be captured like this? How could she have allowed herself to feel anything but hatred for the man who held her captive? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. There was no time for self-pity or confusion; she needed to think clearly and find a way to get word to her brother, Shivudu.

As she scanned the room again, something caught her eye—a flutter of wings above. She saw a pair of pigeons perched on the balcony's roof. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the small bolts tied to their legs. These weren't just pigeons but messenger birds trained to carry messages long distances.

A surge of hope coursed through her veins. He would know where to find her if she could get a message to Shivudu. But she needed something to write, and the room had no ink or paper. She bit her lip, thinking quickly. Her eyes fell on the torn edge of the curtain hanging near the window— it could serve as makeshift paper.

Shiya pulled out the sharp nail she had hidden in her hair earlier, her fingers trembling slightly as she pricked the tip of her finger. A drop of blood welled up, and she winced at the pain but quickly pressed her finger to the fabric, writing out a message as best as she could with her blood.

She worked quickly, the urgency of her situation driving her hands to move faster. Once the message was complete, she tied the bloodstained fabric securely around the leg of one of the pigeons. Taking a deep breath, she whispered to the bird, willing it to understand the importance of its task.

"Please, find him. Find my brother," she whispered, her voice filled with desperation.

The pigeon cooed softly before taking flight, its wings cutting through the night air as it soared away from the palace. Shiya watched it until it disappeared into the darkness, her heart heavy with hope and fear. She could only pray that the bird would reach Shivudu in time and that her brother would understand the message and come to rescue her before it was too late.

As Baahubali and the others prepared for their final assault on Mahishmati, they gathered around a small fire, strategizing to breach the palace's defences. The air was thick with tension, the weight of their mission pressing down on them. Each person knew the stakes—they were not just fighting for revenge but for the liberation of their people and the rightful return of the throne.

Suddenly, a soft rustling interrupted their discussion. A pigeon landed near the group, its wings fluttering as it settled on a rock beside them. Mahendra Baahubali's sharp eyes immediately noticed the small piece of fabric tied to its leg, darkened by what looked like ink—or something else. He quickly reached for the bird, carefully untying the message.

When he unfolded the fabric, his brow furrowed in confusion. Instead of clear writing, the message was a crude drawing, barely legible. The shapes were rough, the lines uneven, but something about it seemed oddly familiar. He showed it to Devasena, Avantika, and Kattappa, hoping for some insight.

Kattappa's eyes widened as he studied the drawing more closely. The old warrior's hand shook slightly as he recognized the scene depicted in the crude, blood-drawn image.

"This... this is the chamber that overlooks the river," Kattappa said, his voice low but firm. "I know this place. It is one of the secluded rooms in the palace, hidden from the main pathways and nearly impossible to access."

Baahubali looked at Kattappa with a mix of relief and urgency. "Are you sure, Kattappa? Is there any way we can reach it without being detected?"

Kattappa nodded. "It won't be easy. The chamber is heavily guarded, and the entrance is well-hidden."

Baahubali clenched his fists, feeling a surge of protectiveness for the sister. Shiya, though not bound to him by blood, was still his sister by heart, and he would not let Bhallaladeva use her as a pawn.

This time, Bhallaladeva's cruelty would not go unanswered.

***

Shiya winced as she tried to stop the bleeding from her finger, realizing too late that she had pricked herself harder than intended. The makeshift bandage she had created from the torn curtain was quickly soaked with blood, and her attempts to stem the flow only seemed to make it worse.

Suddenly, the door to the chamber swung open, and Bangaru Amma entered, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the scene. The elderly caretaker had been tasked with looking after Shiya, but she hadn't expected to find the young woman injured.

"What have you done, child?" Bangaru Amma exclaimed, rushing to Shiya's side. Without waiting for a response, she called out for assistance, her voice filled with urgency. 

As the night deepened, Shiya sat alone on her chamber's balcony, tears streaming down her face. The once vivid hope that her message might reach her brother had faded into a gnawing despair. The bleeding from her finger had finally stopped, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional torment she endured. She desperately yearned for any sign indicating help was coming, but the silence was deafening.

The cool night breeze did little to comfort her as she stared out into the darkness, her mind replaying the terrifying events of the day. How could everything have spiralled out of control so quickly? How had she ended up in the clutches of a man as cruel and relentless as Bhallaladeva?

Her sombre reflection was abruptly interrupted by Bangaru Amma's soft, concerned voice calling her from the doorway. Shiya quickly wiped her tears, attempting to compose herself as the elderly woman approached.

"Come, child," Bangaru Amma said gently, her tone laced with concern. "You need to eat. The King is waiting."

Shiya's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Bhallaladeva. Confusion and dread twisted her insides as Bangaru Amma led her out of the chamber and down the dimly lit corridors. Her thoughts raced, wondering what fresh torment awaited her.

Shiya's breath caught as they entered the grand dining room. At the head of the long, elaborately adorned table sat Bhallaladeva, his piercing eyes fixed on her. His expression was unreadable, but the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.

Shiya hesitated, her feet rooted to the spot as she took in the sight of him. He looked almost regal, an imposing figure exuding an air of absolute authority. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, giving him an even more menacing aura.

"Sit," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

Shiya reluctantly moved forward, her heart pounding in her chest as she sat at the far end of the table. She glanced nervously at the servants meticulously laying out a sumptuous feast before them. But before she could fully process what was happening, Bhallaladeva's voice cut through the air.

"Leave us," he ordered, and the servants instantly obeyed, hurrying out of the room without a word, leaving the two of them alone.

The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the soft clinking of Bhallaladeva's utensils as he began to eat. Shiya, however, remained frozen, staring down at the untouched food before her. How could she even think about eating when her thoughts were consumed by the dangers her family and friends were facing outside these walls? They were out there, risking everything to save her and bring down the very man sitting across from her. The mere thought of it made her stomach turn.

"What's the matter?" Bhallaladeva's voice, cold and laced with mockery, broke the silence. "Is the food not to your liking?"

Shiya's heart raced as she swallowed hard, struggling to find her voice. The food was the least of her concerns, but how could she explain that to a man like Bhallaladeva, who seemed to revel in her discomfort?

Her eyes darted nervously to the doorway, hoping for an escape, but she knew none. She was trapped here, and he was well aware of it. Every second in his presence felt like a dangerous game, one where she had no control and could only hope to survive.

Bhallaladeva's gaze remained fixed on her, waiting for an answer. When she didn't respond, he leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his lips. "You seem distracted, little bird. You should eat. After all, you'll need your strength."

Shiya's hands clenched into fists under the table as she forced herself to meet his gaze. His words were meant to unsettle her, and they succeeded. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. Taking a deep breath, she replied, her voice trembling slightly, "I'm not hungry."

Bhallaladeva's smirk widened, clearly amused by her defiance. "Not hungry? Or perhaps you're too worried about your little friends out there? I assure you, they won't be able to help you."

Shiya's stomach churned with a mix of fear and anger. She hated how he toyed with her, how he seemed to take pleasure in her suffering. But she couldn't let him see how deeply his words affected her. Instead, she forced herself to remain composed, even as her heart screamed with anxiety for those she loved.

"They'll come," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper but with a conviction that surprised even her. "They'll come for me."

Bhallaladeva's eyes flashed with a mixture of irritation and amusement. "We'll see about that," he murmured, his tone dark and ominous.

As the tense silence stretched on, Bhallaladeva continued eating, his sharp eyes occasionally glancing at Shiya, who still hadn't touched her food. Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap, and the flickering candlelight cast shadows on her pale, worried face.

Suddenly, Bhallaladeva broke the silence, his voice deceptively calm but laced with malice. "You know, Shiya, I've been thinking," he began, leaning back in his chair. "About your brother."

Shiya's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her brother. She forced herself to remain still, unwilling to show him how much his words affected her. But she couldn't stop the slight tremor that passed through her.

"Tell me," Bhallaladeva continued, almost casually, "is he truly the great brother you believe him to be? Or does he take all the glory and attention, leaving you in the shadows, aching for just a sliver of love?"

Shiya's eyes snapped up to meet his, her gaze filled with confusion and defiance. What was he trying to do? Was this just another of his twisted games, or was he trying to sow seeds of doubt in her mind?

Bhallaladeva smirked at her reaction, clearly pleased that he had struck a nerve. "I've seen it before, you know," he continued, his voice smooth and taunting. "Siblings who their more 'heroic' brothers overshadow. It can be... suffocating, can't it? Always being the one left behind, the one who has to fend for herself while her brother basks in the glory."

Shiya clenched her jaw, refusing to be drawn into his twisted narrative. "My brother loves me," she said, her voice firm despite the turmoil inside her. "He would never abandon me."

Bhallaladeva chuckled darkly, leaning forward slightly as he studied her. "Ah, love. It's such a powerful word. But love doesn't always mean equality. Sometimes, love means sacrifice. And sometimes, it means being left alone in the dark while your brother stands in the spotlight."

Shiya's chest tightened, her mind flashing back to memories of her childhood with Mahendra. He had always been protective of her, always the one to shield her from harm. But Bhallaladeva's words gnawed at the edges of her thoughts, twisting them into something dark and insidious.

Seeing the flicker of doubt in her eyes, Bhallaladeva pressed on, his voice a low whisper that seemed to echo in the vast dining hall. "Tell me, Shiya, when was the last time you truly felt seen by your brother? When was the last time he looked at you and saw you for who you are, not just as his little sister, but as a person with her own needs, her desires?"

Shiya's hands trembled slightly as she gripped the table's edge, struggling to maintain her composure. She knew what Bhallaladeva was trying to do, yet his words struck a chord deep within her. Mahendra had always been the hero everyone looked up to and destined for greatness. And she had always been... just his sister. The one in the background, the one who followed, the one who...

No. She wouldn't let Bhallaladeva manipulate her like this. She wouldn't let him poison her mind against her brother. Shiya took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet Bhallaladeva's gaze with newfound resolve.

"Mahendra is a good brother," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "He's always been there for me and always will be. You can try to twist things all you want, but you won't succeed."

Bhallaladeva noticed the tension in Shiya's posture, the way her hands gripped the table so tightly that her knuckles turned white. He could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the way her resolve wavered with each word he spoke. Sensing he was getting under her skin, he slowly rose from his seat and walked around the table, standing beside her.

"You know," he said softly, his voice a deadly whisper that curled around her like smoke, "it's not a crime to admit that sometimes you feel... overlooked. You wish you were the one your mother adored and who received all the love and attention."

Shiya's breath hitched, her eyes widening as his words hit too close to home. Memories from her childhood began to surface—moments when she had felt so alone, so overshadowed by her brother. She remembered how her mother's eyes lit up whenever Mahendra was near, how she seemed to pour all her affection into him, leaving Shiya with just the scraps. No matter how much she loved her brother, she couldn't deny the ache in her heart, the longing to be seen and loved just as much.

Bhallaladeva watched her closely, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he saw the tears begin to form in her eyes. "Yes," he murmured, his tone almost gentle now, "you've always been second, haven't you? Always in the background, always the afterthought. You've had to fight for every scrap of attention while he takes it all without a second thought."

Shiya's vision blurred as tears welled up, her heart twisting painfully with each word he said. The truth in his taunts was like a knife to her soul, cutting deeper than she ever thought possible. But even as the tears fell, her love for her brother remained steadfast. She loved him with all her heart, even if she had always been in his shadow.

But something inside her snapped. The pain, the frustration, the years of feeling like she was never enough—it all came boiling to the surface in a white-hot rage. With a scream of fury, she stood up abruptly, the chair clattering to the floor behind her. In one swift motion, she grabbed the plate in front of her and smashed it to the ground, the sound of breaking porcelain echoing through the room.

Before realising what she was doing, her hand closed around a knife set on the table. Driven by raw emotion, she lunged at Bhallaladeva, her eyes blazing with anger as she aimed the blade at his face. But he was quicker. With a smirk that showed just how much he had been waiting for this moment, he effortlessly caught her wrist, stopping the knife just inches from his skin.

Shiya struggled against him, but he was far too strong. He twisted her arm behind her back, forcing her to drop the knife with a clatter. She gasped in pain, her tears flowing freely now as he used his other hand to grab her by the throat, tilting her head back so she was forced to look up at him.

"Ah, there it is," Bhallaladeva whispered, his voice filled with cruel satisfaction. "The fire I knew was inside you. But look how easily you break, little bird. How quickly you lose control."

He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers, his grip on her throat tightening just enough to remind her of his power. "Did you think you could hurt me?" he taunted, his smirk widening as he saw the fear in her eyes. "Do you see now how futile it is to fight me? How easily I can crush you, just like that?"

Shiya's breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she struggled to hold on to what little strength she had left. She hated him—hated how he had manipulated her, how he had pushed her to this breaking point. But more than anything, she hated how powerless she felt in that moment, entirely at his mercy.

Bhallaladeva's eyes gleamed with a predatory light as he studied her, his smirk never fading. He leaned in even closer, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, "You can scream, you can cry, you can fight all you want, but in the end, Shiya, you belong to me. You always will."

With that, he released her abruptly, letting her stumble back, her hands instinctively flying to her throat as she gasped for air. She fell to her knees, her body trembling with a mix of fear, anger, and despair. Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest.

Bhallaladeva looked down at her, his expression one of cold satisfaction. "You're mine, Shiya," he said softly, almost tenderly. "And there's nothing you can do to change that."

As Bhallaladeva turned to leave, Shiya, still on her knees, felt a surge of desperation mixed with confusion. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation, of the torment he was putting her through. Why her? Why was she the one he had fixated on? Gathering what little strength she had left, she called out, her voice shaky but determined.

"Why me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper at first but growing louder. "Why do you want me, Bhallaladeva? You could have anyone—someone who would willingly stand by your side. Why are you doing this to me? It's senseless... all these things you say, all this torment. Why?"

Bhallaladeva paused mid-stride, his back still facing her. There was only silence for a moment, the tension in the room so thick it was almost suffocating. Then, slowly, he turned around to face her, his expression inscrutable.

He approached her again, his footsteps slow and deliberate, each echoing ominously in the quiet chamber. Shiya's heart pounded as she watched him, her fear and confusion mixing into a chaotic storm of emotions. When he finally stopped in front of her, he looked down at her with an intensity that made her shiver.

"Why you?" he repeated softly as if contemplating the question himself. He lifted her chin with one finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Why not you, Shiya? Why not someone like you—so full of fire and spirit, yet so fragile beneath it all?"

His words sent a chill down her spine, but she didn't look away. "That's not an answer," she replied, trembling. "You're making no sense. You don't know me. You don't even care about me. So why...?"

Bhallaladeva's expression darkened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. "You're right," he admitted, his voice low and dangerous. "I could have anyone. But it's precisely because I can have anyone that I choose you. Because you're a challenge, Shiya. Because you fight back. And because, despite everything, you don't bend easily to my will."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And that intrigues me. It excites me. You see, it's not about love or care, Shiya. It's about power. It's about breaking that spirit of yours and making you mine, completely and utterly. That's why you, Shiya. Because the harder you resist, the more satisfying it will be when you finally submit."

His words struck her like a physical blow, her heart sinking as the full weight of his intentions became clear. It wasn't about her, not really. It was about control, about domination. She was nothing more than a prize to him, a conquest to be won.

Shiya felt tears welling up in her eyes again, but she fought them back, refusing to let him see how deeply his words had wounded her. "You're a monster," she whispered, her voice shaking with fear and defiance.

Bhallaladeva's lips curled into a dark smile as if her words only confirmed his already-knowledge. "Perhaps," he said calmly, "but you're still mine, Shiya. And no amount of fighting will change that."

Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out of her mouth, fueled by a mixture of anger, desperation, and a desire to regain some sense of control over her life, even if it meant surrendering it.

"Why wait, then?" Shiya's voice, though shaky, rang out clear and sharp in the chamber's silence. Bhallaladeva froze with a look of mild surprise and interest. She could see the curiosity in his eyes as he observed her, but she pressed on before her courage could fail her.

"Why waste time?" she continued, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. "If you want to break me, to make me yours, then do it. Show me who you are. Show me your power. Do whatever it is you want to do, Bhallaladeva. Because I'm tired... tired of waiting, of fearing what's coming next. If you want to break me, then break me. Just... get it over with so I can finally be free."

Her heart pounded as she finished, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She wasn't sure where this sudden courage had come from, but it was there, burning brightly within her. Perhaps it was the only way she could fight back—by confronting him head-on, calling out his bluff, and showing that she wasn't afraid of what he might do.

Bhallaladeva stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Slowly, a dark and dangerous smile spread across his face, somehow pleased.

"You think you can handle that, little bird?" he asked softly, his voice dripping with malice and amusement. "You think you can endure what I have in store for you? You're braver than I thought, Shiya... or perhaps just more foolish."

Shiya's pulse quickened, but she held his gaze, refusing to back down. "It's not about bravery or foolishness," she replied, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. "It's about survival. If you're going to break me, then do it. But know this—I won't make it easy for you. I won't give in without a fight."

Bhallaladeva chuckled, a low, sinister sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Oh, Shiya," he murmured, his grip on her chin tightening just enough to make her wince. "You truly are a fascinating creature. So determined to hold onto your pride, even in the face of your own destruction."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered in her ear, "But remember, this was your choice. You wanted to see my power... and I'll show it to you. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Bhallaladeva watched her for a moment longer, his smile never wavering. Shiya stood there for an eternity, her body trembling with fear and resolve. She had no idea what was coming next but knew one thing: she would face it on her terms, no matter the cost.

Bhallaladeva's gaze locked onto Shiya's lips, his eyes darkening with a mix of desire and something more dangerous. The tension between them crackled in the air, thick and suffocating. In the heat of the moment, before Shiya could process what was happening, Bhallaladeva closed the distance between them and smashed his lips against hers. Her breath ignited a fire that burned hotter than ever before. He effortlessly lifted her off the ground and placed them on the table, his grip firm and possessive. 

The kiss was fierce, almost brutal in its intensity. Shiya was caught off guard and initially stiffened, but something within her snapped. All the anger, fear, and frustration she had been holding onto erupted, and she found herself kissing him back with equal fervour. Their lips clashed, a battle of wills as much as a physical connection, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Their tongues tangled in a passionate battle for dominance, teeth clashing with an intensity that mirrored their desire.

Bhalla's hands roamed freely over Shiya's body, tracing the curves of her waist and hips. The sound of their moans filled the room.

Shiya squirmed beneath Bhalla's touch, torn between surrendering entirely to his desires and clinging to what little control she had left. Her mind screamed for him to take charge, to ravage her senseless and leave no inch of her untouched.

As they finally pulled apart, their breathing ragged, Shiya's mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, and she realized with a jolt that her saree had become dishevelled in the chaos, barely covering her anymore. Bhallaladeva's eyes roamed over her, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, smudged lips, and the tears welling up in her eyes.

For a long moment, neither spoke; their laboured breathing was the only sound in the room. Shiya could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but she blinked them back, refusing to let him see her break. But the evidence of their passionate encounter was all too clear—her trembling body, the disarray of her clothes, and the lingering taste of him on her lips.

Bhallaladeva's expression was unreadable, but his eyes were filled with a hunger that terrified and enthralled her. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle given the roughness of what had just transpired.

"You truly are something, Shiya," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. His gaze flicked down to her heaving chest, then back up to her tear-filled eyes. "So much fire... so much spirit."

Shiya's breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she wondered what would happen next. But instead of continuing, Bhallaladeva stepped back, his hand falling away from her face. He gave her one last lingering look, his smirk returning as he took in her dishevelled appearance.

"You may try to fight me, little bird," he said softly, almost as if to himself, "but in the end, you belong to me. No matter how much you resist... you will always come back to me."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Shiya standing there, her body still trembling from the intensity of their encounter. As the door closed behind him, the tears she had been holding back finally spilt over, and she sank to the floor, her hands covering her face as she struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

***

Shiya's moans grew louder, a symphony of pleasure that echoed through the room. Bhalla, with his warrior's arms, held her in place and from moving away as his mouth worked on their sweet cunt of hers. His tongue worked its magic, exploring every inch of her cunt with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Shiya writhed beneath him, her naked body arching as waves of ecstasy washed over her. Sweat formed on her forehead and trickled down the curve of her neck, evidence of the intensity of their passion. She doesn't remember how and why she got into this situation, but all her thoughts in her mind vanished when he placed his mouth on her to drink away her soul.

"Please...Ple.." Shiya whimpered, trying to form a sentence; her body couldn't take any more pressure, and everything was new. Bhalla could feel the heat radiating from her, fueling his own arousal.

But as he buried his face between Shiya's thighs, a fleeting hesitation flickered in his eyes. He pulled away slightly, looking up at her with a mischievous smirk. The sight caused Shiya's breath to catch in her throat, but she couldn't deny its effect on her.

"Is that all you've got?" Bhalla taunted playfully, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I expected more from my little queen."

Shiya squirmed beneath him, frustration mingling with desire. Her body craved his touch, but there was still a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

"Looks like your brother who couldn't finish his fight ow with me and only to be killed by mine. His sister is too weak to take the pleasure that a King gives to her" Bhalla's words caused SHoya to freeze. Her eyes flickered to the figure beside her—Baahubali, her beloved brother, lying motionless on the cold stone floor. His once vibrant eyes, full of life and determination, now stared lifelessly at the ceiling, blood pooling around his body. 

"No..No!" Shiya screamed, which only agitated Bhalla as he laughed out loud.

Shiya awoke with a start, her breath shallow and uneven as her eyes looked around to find herself alone in the chamber, and it was all a dream. Bhallaldeva's touch lingered, his hands searing her flesh as if he had never left. She could still feel the way he had consumed her entirely, leaving her hollow and broken. She also could feel the pool of wetness that was in between her thighs; she bit her lips to whimper and to erase the sight of how her dream portrayed the death of her brother.

It's like Bhalla is the devil, and he is slowly consuming her. But the scary part is she liked and wanted more of him in her.

TO BE CONTINUED

____________________________________________________________

taglist: @mahi-wayy @ahamasmiyodhah @whippersnappersbookworm @harinishivaa @mayakimayahai @gloriouspurpose01 @jkdaddy01 @whyishekinda @salaarfanindia @aprofoundrickmaniac @toomanyfanficsbruh @willkatfanfromasia

[carminavulcana]

The once in a bluemoon urge to write an RRR crossover fic with Baahubali.

Follows from the trajectory set by my Silences and Insanities universe. What became of the Mahishmati royal family once they bowed out of the traditional system that allowed the destruction of Amarendra Baahubali. And what does it have to do with the dreams that dominate the sleep of Alluri Seetharama Raju?

If you will read it, I will write it. Should I do it?

[queenofmahishmati]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Baahubali (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bhalla/Indira, bhadra- relationship, devindira- relationship Characters: Bhallaladeva, Indira, Indira (OFC) Summary:

❝ Jealousy is nothing but a fear of abandonment. ❞

[gifseafins]

I was going to translate each of my tags, but I thought better of it.

Have fun discovering where each tag takes you !

But I already warn you that the tags are not revised and changes will occur soon...

.

( Novas # )

-> Artistas Indianos

Jr NTR

Jr NTR's Family

Tarak Fanart

Tarak's Commercials

Tarak Shows

Ram Charan

Ram Charan Fanart

Vir Das

Ajay Devgn

SSRajamouli

Ranbir Kapoor

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Charak Multiverso Fanfic

Charak Multiverso Prompt

Charak Multiverso Aesthetic

Charak Multiverso Vídeo

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-> Filmes Indianos

Cinema Indiano

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RRR

RRR Bastidores

RRR Prompt

RRR Fanfic

RRR Fanart

RRR Aesthetic

RRR Promoção

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Baahubali

Baahubali Bastidores

Baahubali Fanart

Baahubali Aesthetic

.

Brahmastra

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-> Tarak Filmes

Devara

Devara Bastidores

Devara Promoção

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Jai Lava Kusa

Jai Lava Kusa Bastidores

Jai Lava Kusa Fanfic

Jai Lava Kusa Prompt

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Oosaravelli

Oosaravelli Promoção

Oosaravelli Bastidores

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Veera Raghava

Veera Raghava Bastidores

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Yamadonga

Yamadonga Bastidores

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Rakhi

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Janatha Garage

Janatha Garage Bastidores

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Adhurs

Adhurs Bastidores

Adhurs Promoção

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Brindavanam

Brindavanam Bastidores

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Nannaku Prematho

Nannaku Prematho Bastidores

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Temper

Temper Bastidores

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Shakti

Shakti Bastidores

Shakthi Promoção

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Dhammu

Dhammu Bastidores

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Kantri

Kantri Bastidores

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-> Charan Filmes

Magadheera

Magadheera Bastidores

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Vinaya Vidheya Rama

Vinaya Vidheya Rama Bastidores

Vinaya Vidheya Rama Aesthetic

Vinaya Vidheya Rama Fanfic

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Rangasthalam

Rangasthalam Bastidores

Rangasthalam Aesthetic

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Govindudu Andarivadele

Govindudu Andarivadele Bastidores

Govindudu Andarivadele Aesthetic

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-> Tags Únicas

Oscar 2023

TigeRRR2023

Youtube / Instagram

TD / 23 / Organizando

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( Antigas # )

-> Pessoais

Rosa Azul

Minha Foto

Eu Fiz

Minhas Poesias

My Poetry

Uriel

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-> Artistas

Nathan Fillion

David Doukhan

Jason Momoa

Michael Imperioli

Henry Cavill

François Arnaud

Adrian Grenier

Kevin Alejandro

Misha Collins

Brendan Fraser

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-> Textos

Writing Tip

Francês

Introversão

Auto Ajuda

Fanfic Is Life

Poesia

Guia de Sobrevivência

Dicas de Redação

Prompt Random

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-> Imagens do Mundo

Animais

Natureza

Comidas

Lugares

Cosplay

Tatuagens

Esculturas

Arquitetura

Fotografia - Com Pessoas

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-> Artesanato

Van Gogh

Paleta de Cores

Telas

Aesthetic Variados

Origami

Miniaturas

Dollhouse

D&D

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-> Armário

Bolsas

Roupas

Coroa

Relógio

Chaveiro

Broche

Joias

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-> Vai na Casa

Pelucia

Vaso de Plantas

Caneca

Abajur

Tapeçaria

Vitrais

Adesivo

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-> Animação

DBZ

DBZ Fanart - O Polvo

DBZ Aesthetic

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-> Cinema e Televisão

Supernatural

Supernatural Prompt

Supernatural Fanfic

Supernatural Fanart

Supernatural Aesthetic

.

Good Omens

Good Omens Prompt

Good Omens Fanfic

Good Omens Fanart

.

Bibliotecários

.

Orgulho e Preconceito

Orgulho e Preconceito Fanart

.

Dorama

.

Lucifer

Lucifer Prompt

Lucifer Fanfic

Lucifer Fanart

Lucifer Aesthetic

.

Star Wars

Star Wars Aesthetic

Star Wars Fanart

.

Marvel / DC

Marvel / DC Prompt

Marvel / DC Fanart

Marvel / DC Aesthetic

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Cinema

Cinema Aesthetic

Série

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Umbrella Academy Fanart

Umbrella Academy

Umbrella Academy Aesthetic

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Star Trek

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Doctor Who

Doctor Who Fanart

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-> Variados

A Bela e a Fera

A Bela e a Fera Aesthetic

Animação

Anime

Anime Aesthetic

Ciências

Designer

Decoração

Desenho

Disney Pixar

Disney Pixar Aesthetic

Fotos

Games

Humor

Imagens Variadas

Música

Quadrinho

Rostinhos

Terror

Tiny Houses

Vários - Manter Esse

[livinthefandommlife]

Home At Last [Baahubali OS]

Summary: "Out beyond the ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field; I will meet you there." - Rumi

And there she sees her King.

Read Here.

[herawell]

That feeling when your fandom is so small, half of it is on AO3 and the other half the content is on Tumblr, scattered across 10 different blogs and sometimes not even tagged properly, and you lie awake at night just thinking about all the awesome content that you will never get to see, just because you don’t have the patience to go through every blog with a fine-tooth comb.