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concussed-to-pieces · 6 months

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Wolves At The Door; Epilogue

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes.

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our final installment! I'd like to thank you all for reading, and for having faith in me to see this through safe and sound. Never fear, you will always have your happy ending 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale @jackie-loves-yalls-writing @simplysolo @teeheemax

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

8. Backslide

9. Tender Gray Light

10. Hubris’ Weight

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental and physical duress and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

You hadn't been counting, but if you had, it would have been sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since Karl had vanished, sixty-seven days since you had heard another human's voice or even seen another person.

Sixty-seven days. You weren't counting.

Spring was fully upon the forest, buds erupting on the trees and the river swollen with runoff from the melting snow. It was one of your busiest times of the year between scavenging fallen trees, resetting the snares and sorting through your seeds to plant. You were extremely busy and you didn't think about it at all.

Not even when the Duke made his first appearance of the season.

…

“It brings me joy to see you once more, my dear! This winter was long and harsh.” The large man exclaimed, mopping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. “I'm wondering if you might assist me with a small problem. It seems someone may have suffered a bit of an incident, a turn of bad luck.”

Despite this being the thing he always said when he had found an animal for you to nurse, your heart still gave a traitorous little jump in your chest. That is, of course, until a small doe limped around the rear of the cart.

“What's wrong, my dear?” The Duke queried, and when you glanced at him his expression was strangely stoic. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, I…” You hesitated. “I guess not. What's happened to this little girl?”

“She claims that she got her fore left leg caught in the fork of a tree. The woods have been so peaceful as of late though that, aside from the pain, she wasn't scared,” the Duke mused thoughtfully, a swollen hand resting gently on the animal's head. “Apparently her leg would have been broken had she panicked. She had to remain still for several hours to get free.”

You were always entertained by the way the merchant acted like he could understand the woodland creatures he brought to you, but if nothing else he clearly had a way with them. The black horse that drew his cart, for instance, had never balked or shied away in all the times that the Duke had rattled his wares around behind the creature's head.

You squinted upwards at the Duke. “So I'm salving and wrapping her leg?”

“Indeed, a simple fix.” He bent down, giving you a look so intent it made you a little uncomfortable. “And I'll give something to you as a token of my appreciation.”

“Huh?”

He simply winked, then gestured at the doe.

You were burning with curiosity. What could he be granting you? And for free, no less! Ablaze with possibilities you didn't dare hope for, you nonetheless dutifully tended to the small scrape on the deer's thin leg.

“A familiar task for you, I'd wager.” The Duke finally spoke again, cigar smoke wafting around his head like a cloud. You gave him a confused look, quirking your brow, yet his face remained amicably bland.

You eventually settled back onto your haunches, wiping a few beads of sweat from your brow. While the weather had yet to truly warm up, the sunlight was beaming through the still-leafless trees.

The doe staggered to her feet, bleating at you loud enough to make you jump. The Duke laughed as if in reply, that large hand landing on the animal's head once more. “Off you get now, little hind. You know the way home.” He murmured, giving her another pat before she departed. “She said thank you, by the by.” The large man informed you almost absently, already searching through his pockets for another cigar.

“Oh of course,” was your dry response, making him chuckle. “What's with all this cryptic stuff, though?”

“Ah, to business.” The Duke rubbed his hands together, his rings jangling discordantly as he did. “A favorite subject. Regrettably my gift is nothing really physical, it is instead a message.” His keen eyes felt suddenly sharp, as though he was seeing through your soul itself. “That iron horse does not forget its master so easily, especially one so gracious as you, my dear.”

You stared up at him blankly. Horse? What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The Duke seemed entertained by your bewilderment, the man grinning and leaning back on the bench of his cart. “Perhaps it would be more apt to dub him the feral mutt you've brought to heel. After all, kindness and a warm meal are lures potent enough to drag in even the most stoic of men.”

“That's not funny.” You said in a curt tone, hating that you could feel your lower lip quivering slightly. “I…that's not funny, Mr. Duke.”

He was abruptly serious. “I don't jest lightly, my dear.”

“Then why would you say that?!” You snapped, getting to your feet and dusting off the knees of your pants. “I didn't help out just so you could sit up there and make fun of me-”

“My dear I assure you, I'm as sincere as the day is long.” The Duke insisted, knocking some ash from the end of his cigar. “Call it a…perhaps a merchant's intuition. After all, it's important to have a certain level of foresight, to be able to read the ebbs and flows of the market and adjust to demand ahead of schedule. How else would I keep my clientele?”

“You're not making any sense.” You growled, now frustrated with your corpulent visitor.

He tipped his head back, expelling another waft of smoke upwards. “Have a little faith, will you? Creature of habit that you are, have faith in the unseen, the unknown.” The Duke jabbed his cigar at you. “Or continue to wallow in your discontent, counting the days that you claim mean nothing.”

You recoiled physically as if he had struck you, taking in a deep breath to deny his words. But instead all that came out was a soft, pitiful, “I miss him.”

The Duke nodded, oddly sympathetic all of a sudden. “Have faith, my dear.” He clasped your hand between his own enormous paws, eyes sincere. “The spring is upon us, and new life grows eternal in these woods. Keep your lanterns lit.”

…

Damn, it's quiet.

It echoed in his ears, a looping nothingness like static. Abruptly his heartbeat interrupted it, thudding deafeningly in his skull. What the hell had the good-for-nothing organ been doing before that?!

The beat was slow, much slower than it ought to be. His thoughts were barely there, sluggish and disjointed.

Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal–

No, no, he had dealt with that already. Where was he? It was so frustrating not being able to think, to string along a process to its conclusion.

He flexed his right hand, confused by how numb it was. Pins and needles lurched down the limb in a wave, making him shudder and grunt. That shudder dislodged…something, a huge, sharp something that, from what he could struggle to put together, was what had pinned him to the wall he was currently pressed against.

It didn't seem to matter if he opened his eyes or kept them closed, either way he was effectively sightless and plagued with vertigo. Had he gone blind?

A groan rattled dryly out of his throat. The skin on his lips cracked with the exhale, and he felt liquid begin to dampen them. His tongue flicked out on reflex, the man tasting rust and dirt. Unbidden came a warm flash as if from a dream, cinnamon and brown sugar, plum spice cake.

Standing was a challenge. More of a slow, creaking shift into what could be vaguely considered an upright position. Fingers scratching at the mud around him, the man levered himself off the ground with the help of what was left of his enormous hammer. The handle of it felt more brittle than he had expected, the scent of rust filling the air when his fingers gripped down.

How long has it been?

And then, a new thought occurred, one that seemed to fully shock him to life. Have I just been dreaming this entire time?

Had you just been some vivid hallucination? Had the Duke even scraped him off the ground and brought him to safety, or had he just crawled back into his burrow to die once the saga of he and Winters’ fracas had played out?

Was any of it real?

The ground squelched wetly beneath whatever was left of his boots as he staggered forward, but it also crunched in a grim manner. He didn't want to think too hard on that, instead focusing on sending out pulses of his power. He couldn't truly see, but at least he knew where metallic objects were in proximity to him and he could use that knowledge to keep from toppling over.

He wasn't certain how long he meandered through the sunless wreckage. Was it hours, or weeks? Slowly, painfully, one shuffling foot in front of the other, he continued on aimlessly. He wondered to himself if this was how earthworms felt, wriggling through the cold earth in search of sustenance and never deigning to see the sunlight.

He barely even noticed when it started to become brighter around him, reasoning that he must simply be imagining it when faintly from far, far above came a distant dawn chorus of birdsong. The man paused, straining his eyes to see in the dim light, and he could only just make out a faint glow in the distance. His legs, all but atrophied from disuse, protested mightily when he tried to up his pace, so he was forced to maintain the speed of a snail moving through cold molasses.

It was a long, hard trek. The rubble-laden floor angled slightly upwards to the…hole? cave in?, leaving the man to simply flounder and scrape his shins on the detritus he was too weary to lift his legs over.

As the light strengthened, he came to the sudden realization that he was all but naked. What was left of his clothing was in ribbons, caked with ichor, old blood and mold. His boots seemed to be coming apart at the seams, blooming white patches of mold eating into the remnants of the leather. He then shivered as the first bracing breeze of the outside world graced his lungs, and the coughing spasm it startled out of him seemed to dislodge more than it should have.

When he finally was able to straighten back up, his spine settled into place, releasing an earsplitting pop! as it did. Relief flooded his body, the pain dulling to a manageable throb. He took a few more tentative breaths, noting as he did how much brighter his surroundings had become. Had he been walking through the night, and just reached the entrance at dawn?

It doesn't really matter, he decided, squaring his shoulders. The only thing that matters is…

“I have to go back.” He grimaced at the rasp of his own voice, swallowing and trying again. “I have to…make sure it wasn't all in my head.”

I have to see them. And when I do, I…

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. What if it had all just been a dream? Some wild wish-fulfillment of a gentler, kinder existence while his body slowly repaired itself after his glorious defeat at the hands of Ethan Winters?

His empty stomach felt like it was caving in, fear and resignation warring in his gut, but after a moment of hesitation he shook the hair out of his eyes and stepped out into the cool yellow light of a spring morning.

The first thing he noticed was no humanoid footprints, to his absolute delight. No wolf prints, no footprints, nothing. At least he hadn't failed in that regard. Unless he had imagined it and those fucks who put up the fence had also been the ones to eradicate the lycans and their pets.

Gods, his head hurt. The sun, just barely over the horizon now, seemed like it was burning his retinas clean out of his skull. He shaded his eyes with his palm, grimacing in pain. He would go check the bulkhead he had entered through, he decided. Check the bulkhead, see if it even existed, then check for fresh tracks there. And then…and then…

He slumped against the rubble of the caved-in factory wall, running a hand over his face. His facial hair was extremely unruly and matted with grime, and he doubted the rest of him looked any better. Once he departed the village, put some distance between himself and this…malodorous valley, he would have to clean himself up. If you were real, if he hadn't imagined you in a fit of self-indulgent madness, he doubted you would be overly impressed with him showing up half-dead, reeking of stale sweat, mold and wet dog.

To say nothing of the fact that his clothing was in tatters.

It was a slow, zig-zagging walk back to where he had descended into the factory previously. At least he knew for certain that the bulkhead existed, the man reasoned with himself while he scrutinized the ground around the bulkhead that hadn't caved in. Again, nothing. No fresh marks, no scrapes, no scuffs. Not so much as a sparrow's tiny claw marks graced the ground. Seemingly the local wildlife gave the valley a wide berth, which made sense. Between Miranda's crow forms and the various nightmarish denizens of this place, it was only logical for normal creatures to avoid it.

He straightened up, squinting against the sunlight once more. He could only just make out that ridiculous fence way off by the outskirts of the valley, and if he remembered the fence…

The man gripped the remains of the haft of his hammer and began walking. It had only taken him a few hours of running to get here before, but after his…rest, it would seem that running wasn't in the cards for today. Or ever again, if the screaming in his calves was anything to go by. So walking it was, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his legs as he went.

He mainly left his attention on the ground, familiar enough with the valley that he could afford to do so. Back around the swamp he went, nearly losing the sole of one of his boots to the sucking mud that surrounded the area.

He had to get to you. He had to know whether you were real. The fear and hope cycled in his head, back and forth, round and round, and he wondered hazily if he had snapped (or snapped more).

Climbing the rise felt like an impossible task and yet eventually he stood at the top, sweating and panting but there.

Without an ounce of finesse, Karl Heisenberg gracelessly tore open a section of the fence and made his escape out into the forest, never once looking back at the village that had been his home for so many years. No, all that his thoughts could stay latched onto was the memory of plum spice cake and the way you had looked at him that night.

He had to get to you. He had to make sure that you were real. And…

He had to apologize.

He had to make this right.

If you hated him, that was fine! It was your right. He would hate him. What he had done was stupid. You made him feel something that he didn't understand, and for someone as self-assured as Karl, that was terrifying.

Cut them off at the source. More like run from a problem he didn't think he could handle, like some cowardly bitch. The man snarled at himself in discontent, his pace picking up to some sort of lumbering jog. Deer fled before him, nimble bodies flitting through the undergrowth as he did his best to retrace his steps. At least he had the river to follow, if nothing else.

Speaking of which.

Karl knelt beside the rushing water, grateful that he couldn't see his reflection. He had a decent imagination, he didn't need to confirm it.

It was cold as ice, the chill of it taking his breath away. Karl took another breath and shoved his head underwater, closing his eyes to keep…whatever was in his hair out of them. The man then flipped the soggy hair back over his head, finger-combing it away from his face.

Karl proceeded to drink greedily from the river, the frigid water a shock and blessing all in one. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was, the man finally sloppily wiping his mouth and beard and then getting to his feet once more. The handle of his hammer remained on the ground beside the river, forgotten, as Heisenberg continued onward along the bank.

He felt like he was actually awake now, like he'd emerged from some kind of dream (or nightmare) into these woods. His footing grew more sure, atrophy fading as his muscles warmed up both from use and from the strengthening sunlight streaming through the trees.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day was so young, the sky overhead a vibrant blue and the moss beneath his boots a lush, fluffy green. It was honestly beautiful and Karl had no idea how he had never seen it before. Had he been wandering through life with his eyes shut until now?

No, he thought firmly, he had only begun to open them when he met you. You had done that. You had been worth it, had been worth him taking actual notice of the world around him.

You had to be real. You must be. None of the other phantoms he had encountered in his life had any substance to them, but you…

Heisenberg clenched his fists, urging his body to move faster.

…

Keep your lanterns lit.

And so you did. The Duke had left you with a physical gift despite his claims to the contrary; a sturdy metal lantern with a large cutout shaped like a horse. Every night as the sun was setting, you went out to where it hung on your front gate and lit the candle inside it, which, curiously, never seemed to get any shorter. You, admittedly, didn't have much faith, you just assumed the Duke had been trying to comfort you with some platitude.

It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. You would take what you could get. You often lingered out by the fence for a while, telling yourself you weren't really listening as you strained your ears to hear anything, anything at all. You knew it was futile and you weren't actually expecting anything to come of it, yet still you persisted in wasting time by the front gate.

With the lengthening days you were occasionally out past dusk, cutting wood or finishing house repairs. On one such day, a floorboard on the porch that had begun creaking in the winter finally annoyed you enough that you decided to attempt to fix it.

You spent most of the day carefully foraging drips of pine pitch from nearby trees, intending to make a batch of pine tar in the evening. Board couldn't creak if it couldn't move, right?

You set up your highly-technical ‘refining station’, which definitely wasn't just an old beans can nestled down into the dirt beneath your fire pit, a slightly-larger tomato can with holes poked into the bottom of it resting on top. Then, after dropping all your resin in the upper can, you carefully built the fire up, placing a rock over the top of the can to act as a lid. The melting process could take a few hours, depending on the fire, so it was after sundown when you began to cautiously sift through the charcoal. You would need a few good, clean pieces to mix in with the now-filtered resin, in order to ensure some pliability remained.

You had interrupted the task at sunset, moving in an automatic way from the firepit to the fence to light the lantern. You could see the glow of it now out of the corner of your eye, even while you pored over the char.

Maybe it does nothing but make me feel a little less alone.

You stared down at your gloved hands full of blackened wood, blinking furiously when tears began to blur your vision. You continued, albeit a bit more clumsily, to separate out the cleanest chunks of charcoal, doing your best to make a neat little pile.

A boot abruptly landed squarely in the middle of the pile and you couldn't help the terrified noise that left your mouth, scrambling to try and get to your feet. Before you could, though, the person dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around you, trapping you in place. Wiry unkempt facial hair scuffed your cheek while you just sat there, frozen stiff with fear.

“Sugar.”

Karl.

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt his entire body shudder. “I couldn't remember if you were real.” His voice cracked. “I followed the light, but I couldn't–I'm…I'm so sorry, sugar. I'm so, so sorry, I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, I-I just-”

You silently returned his hug, sure that you were leaving charcoal stains on his clothes but not able to find it in you to care all that much. Karl stopped trying to speak after a few moments, the man sagging against you with his forehead resting on your shoulder. “Tell me in the morning, okay?” You whispered, relieved when he nodded. “Let's just get you inside.”

It wasn't much of a struggle to get him indoors, and he bedded down on his old cot without so much as a peep of complaint. He was filthy, but now wasn't the time for your hygiene regiment. He was clearly stripped for energy and worn out. Better to let this particular sleeping dog lie, at least for now.

…

Karl woke suddenly, whatever dream he had been having rapidly fading from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, momentarily perplexed. Pine truss beams running lengthwise, the pattern of knots and wood grain achingly familiar.

Sugar.

He shoved himself into a sitting position, body still heavy from sleep, and saw you.

You weren't really doing anything all that impressive. The stove door was ajar and you were busily tending the fire. But at that moment, Karl was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. “Sugar,” he rasped, voice gruff and drowsy.

You turned to look at him, your eyes softening upon meeting his own. “Hey, Karl.”

Oh, he could fucking cry. Heisenberg huffed out a breath, feeling his heart twist in his chest. You lugged over the basin of water that had been sitting next to the stove (maybe to keep it warm?), toting a washcloth and the bar of soap as well. “Talk with me once you've sponged off.” You said, not unkindly. “You kinda’ smell like BO and dead animal.”

“I doubt it's a kind of level of smell.” Karl admitted wryly, making you snicker and nod. “Sorry about all this. You tend to smell like death if you're dead for a little while, after all.”

“I don't know if I would call two months and some change a ‘little while’. Also, dead?” You raised an eyebrow.

Karl stared at you. Two months. Over two months. Gods almighty.

You, seeming to register that the news was a shock to him, patted his knee. “Y'know what, worry about it later. Focus on the first thing and we can go from there. I'll make us some lunch.”

“Lunch?”

You nodded, turning your wrist so he could see your watch. It was indeed a little after one in the afternoon. “Get washed up,” you reiterated softly.

So Karl attempted to do so, flushing a little once he'd stripped and realized just how dirty he actually was. “Sugar?” He called, using the remains of his clothes to cover his groin just in case you turned around. Sure, sure you had seen him entirely naked before, but…

From the kitchen you replied, “yeah?” He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that you didn't look at him.

“I'm just going to throw myself in the river. I don't think this glorified bucket is going to cut it.” He reasoned.

“Okay, you know where the towels are. Just make sure you go downstream a ways.”

The freezing water in the river was a far cry from the lukewarm comfort that the basin had held, but Karl was a little more certain in his cleanliness once he emerged, teeth chattering and body pink from scrubbing, from the pool that swirled and eddied alongside your far fenceline. Spreading out the worn towel once he had mostly dried himself off, Heisenberg took a moment to lay back on the riverbank and examine the new scars.

The cadou had healed him, of course, but now he was riddled with scars. He'd prided himself previously on his ability to guard quickly, to be able to adjust during a fight and use his powers to shield himself. But that many lycans, vârcolaci, in essentially total darkness…

He knew he was lucky to be alive at all, and that he shouldn't be so unsettled by a few new marks. He still couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had never worried about his looks, it had never crossed his mind. His confidence in his abilities was so all-encompassing he hadn't considered the possibility, but what if you had only been attracted to his looks? You had vocalized interest in his appearance, after all.

Karl frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and noting even more unfamiliar raised areas. Maybe he would feel better once he got his facial hair under control. Once he looked like himself again, or some sort of approximation of it. First things first though, he would need to beg some clothes off of you.

…

You tore into a thick slice of bread, slathered with a little of the precious squirrel fat you had left and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Karl had vanished into your bedroom with the haircare kit, stating that he “felt more human, but could use a shape-up”.

He looked much too good for someone you had convinced yourself to be mad at. Truthfully your confusion and anger at being…well, abandoned, in your own terms, had ebbed substantially upon his arrival. He had seemed–breakable wasn't quite the right word. Maybe fragile? He had clearly been through hell, if nothing else. At that moment, you had decided to be merciful. You would hear him out. If you didn't like his answer, you could always show him the door.

Another bite was crammed into your mouth, and you focused on chewing furiously before your thoughts could wander any further. Cool it, hotshot, you scolded yourself mentally. Try to be normal about this.

Once Karl emerged from your room he gingerly settled into the seat across from you at the table. Wearing some borrowed, slightly ill-fitting clothes and sporting some uneven edges to his facial hair, the man didn't exactly cut an imposing figure.

God, you had missed him so much.

To your surprise he entirely ignored the food in front of him, instead reaching across the table and clasping your free hand between his own. The look he leveled at you made you want to break eye contact, but stubbornly, you refused. He owed you this much, you reminded yourself with more than a touch of irritation.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was still raspy, but it seemed to be from disuse. “I…sugar I fucked up. I own that. I was scared.”

You gaped at him, thrown entirely off balance. The man who had faced down a horde of lycans, the man who could control metal with a look, a gesture–

Scared?

He wasn't done clearly, his grip on your hand tensing as he leaned in with an earnest expression. “You deserved better than what I did. You were–gods, you were so kind to me. Opened your home to me when I didn't know who I was. Opened yourself to me.”

Were you blushing?! Dammit!

“I know we didn't mean fuckall to one another, I get that it was…I guess a convenience, using each other for mutual benefit. But I-” Heisenberg paused, leaving you reeling. It was true though, wasn't it? Convenience. No emotions involved in it. “-I don't know what the hell happened.” He finally admitted, his voice soft. “I don't know when it changed for me. Whether it even changed at all, or if it was always like that and I was just ignoring it. I'm, uh, not exactly experienced here, and I guess I can blame it on that.”

“‘Experienced’ how?” You managed to ask, a hysterical giggle escaping you when he stuttered and fell silent. “Seriously?”

“This isn't how I-look, sugar, I figured me dying, me wiping out all those lycan freaks and probably dying in the process–I mean it wasn't great, but I thought I could at least be useful. I'm not…good.” His voice faded to an awkward mumble. “Good, like how you are.”

One thing at a time. You could process that later. “All the lycans?” The woods had been peaceful the last few months. You hadn't really thought…damn.

Karl nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.

“You…You really thought you were gonna’ die?” You felt a little nauseous when he nodded again. “How? You're so tough!”

“I'd never fought the horde on their turf. They holed up in my factory after-” he gestured at himself. “-everything.” The man sighed heavily, rotating his shoulder. “Brought the house down on top of them and me. Not sure how long I fought them before then.”

“You've got to be shitting me.” You planted your palms on the table, shoving your chair out behind you from the force as you stood. “You went back there and nearly got yourself killed-”

“Yes.” Heisenberg cut you off. “I did, sugar, and I'd do it again.”

“Why though?” You exclaimed, incredulous.

“You really don't know?” He asked, sounding just as incredulous. “You try coming to a realization like I did when you're fucking–balls deep in someone!” His eyes widened, the man dropping his head to thud against the table after a moment of stunned silence. “Dammit,” he snarled, his voice muffled.

“W-what realization?” You knew you should probably leave it alone. It was an invasive question and, despite the intimacy the two of you had shared, an apology was already on your lips when it was cut off by a loud groan from Karl.

“That I–that you–” the man floundered, then suddenly jerked his head up to fix you with an appropriately-intense look. “I think I love you.”

What.

What?!

Your shoulders dropped, hands slack on the tabletop. You stared at Karl, but all he did was stare back at you, his gaze one of weary resignation.

I think I love you.

“S-So–” Gods, when had your mouth become so dry?! “So you don't know?” You half-squeaked, half-choked on the words.

“I've never felt this way before,” was his blunt reply. “I can only infer from the evidence.” He didn't seem thrilled about the circumstances, but maybe that could also be chalked up to his lack of experience.

“Is it…are you okay with it?”

Karl's brow furrowed, and then he offered you a slow, firm nod. “...yeah. Had a lot of time to think during my walk back. Even if you…I mean, if you think I'm gross-looking now, that's okay. I'd understand.”

You blinked, entirely baffled. Gross? Sure, he had a few new scars on his face. They only stood out to you because the tissue was still pink, unlike the silvery lines that had littered his visage before. But that wasn't gross, not to you anyway.

Karl was still talking however, and it seemed that he was picking up speed. “Sugar, I showed up, an unknown, a starving wolf at your door and yet you showed me kindness, even if it was just a favor for that fat bastard at first. You fed me from your own damn plate, let me take comfort in you.” His words hitched momentarily when he continued, “I was just so–so twisted and broken, I didn't understand that you could offer with open hands. I didn't understand what you had given me and then I realized as I was throwing myself at the lycan hive that…I was an idiot. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I wanted to live! I'd never wanted to live so much in my damn life, so I could get back to you, so I could apologize, so I could–” Heisenberg's fists clenched, the man soldiering on doggedly, “so I could tell you how I…felt. How I think I feel.”

“So you could tell me that you love me.” You were reeling.

“Yes.” His broad shoulders caved a little, the man shrinking into himself. “And now you know. Now I know. But I don't know what to do. I've never…this hasn't happened before.”

You picked up your glass of water and drained it in one long gulp, attempting to buy time while your brain ran through a million possibilities at once. Your main takeaway, however, was simple. He loves me. A warm sensation flooded your body, tingling down to your fingertips. He loves me. “Want me to offer some input?” You asked, your steps light as you rounded the table.

Heisenberg nodded dully, his eyes fixed on the bowl of stew in front of him. You gently brought your hands up to cup his chin, tilting his face so you could meet his gaze. You found no regret in that stare, only apprehension, which was immensely heartening.

“Next time you have a realization like that, talk to me.” You said in a sweet tone, the ‘loving’ pat you gave him on the cheek not quite a smack. “Don't pull something like that again…and I'll let you stay with me.”

“You…what, seriously?” Karl demanded, his eyes widening. “You'll let me stay here? Even after-”

“Don't push your luck,” you warned, blowing a raspberry at him when he began to laugh incredulously. “This isn't a vacation, after all! You'll need to fix holes in the roof, help me with the supplies every year, check the traps-”

Karl swept you up in a hungry kiss, effectively cutting off your eternal to-do list. “That all sounds wonderful, sugar.” He murmured against your lips. “Let me finish lunch and I'll get right on it.”

Thoroughly flustered, you stammered out in protest, “i-i-it's not going to be easy, Karl! Don't agree to this unless you understand the burden of responsibility you're taking on.”

“I do.” He insisted around his first mouthful of bread. “I pr’mise.”

…

He wasn't certain where your underwear had gone, but he was immensely grateful for its absence. You leaned forward, taking his dick out of your mouth for a second to catch your breath and Karl forced your knees to slide out on either side of him with his forearms so he could draw his tongue along your cunt. His thumbs spread you open, the man rumbling when he felt your breath hitch. Then, Karl delved his tongue into you, making you moan and whimper around his dick while he slowly, slowly ate you out.

Karl could feel his heartbeat in his neck when your thighs suddenly snapped shut around his head, hips rocking back and forth as you ground yourself against his mouth. Finally, someone who could be as greedy as he was.

His own hips bucked upwards, driving his cock into your throat mercilessly while you continued to attempt to crush his skull. Your thighs were trembling, body undulating helplessly. All Karl could do was urge you onward and that's exactly what he did, his voice a low burr against your cunt as he demanded that you come for him. It didn't matter that you'd already come before, it didn't matter that you were still sloppy and fucked-out from his previous, extremely enthusiastic efforts. Karl wanted more and he knew you did too.

Your pelvis lurched abruptly, breath coming in sharp little gasps as you began to climax. The former Lord growled in satisfaction, clasping his hands up over your thighs to pin you where you were as you rode out your orgasm.

“Mmm, told you that you had one more in you,” he hummed, grinning when you whined your annoyance at him. “Shh, no complaining sugar, or I'll wring another one out of you for fun.” As if to prove his point Karl slid a finger into you, using it to massage your still-trembling walls. You whimpered but made no attempt to wriggle away from him, so Heisenberg simply carried on gently stroking his finger in and out of your entrance. “One more, sugar, c'mon, match me.” The man teased, his eyes half-lidding when you took his dick in hand once more.

“You're ridiculous-” You panted. He could hear the laughter in your words despite your evident breathlessness. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sugar.” Karl patted your leg, guiding you to turn around and slide back down to straddle his thighs. He then sat up slightly, meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he sighed, finding his eyes still searching your own for reassurance.

But then you smiled at him, knocking your forehead gently against his own. “And I love you, Karl.”

I love you.

“‘Course you do,” Karl breathed, half to himself. You rolled your eyes at him and your wry chuckle was music to his ears, as was your singsong reply.

“Of course I do.”

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn #epilogue

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dazai-on-my-mind · 1 month

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It's so hard for me to take Dazai's time in the mafia seriously. "Oh my blood is Mafia black." Then we get a flash back of him with his eye bandaged to keep the evil inside him at bay.

Bro is not beating the chunni allegations. You are embarrassing Chuuya.

#no wonder Chuuya was so pissed off by him all the time #bro was just an angsty teen #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #cory talks bsd #pm dazai #port mafia dazai

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months

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Jamil, Idia: Desires so Deep

Ignore me getting a late start on this new birthday series 💀 (Got busy with irl stuff!!)

Oddly enough, the vignettes don’t mention Jamil’s birthday at all; they’re at the National Art Museum in the Land of Dawning to celebrate its 100th anniversary. It seems this new series (Platinum Jacket) will have vignettes with more focus on how the boys relate to and what they think about important historical figures in Twisted Wonderland!

… Also, the fact that the book 7 part 5 update came out a few days before Jamil’s birthday… and then his vignettes go and show a Maleficent painting in them… Yeah 😭 but what’s even funnier to me is that Idia calls Jamil a chuunibyou WHich iS SO ACCURATE, THANK YoU fOR CALLinG HIS ASS OuT, KING 🙏 What is Jamil doing in that sussy Groovy if not being a chunni…

A Tale as Old as Time.

Contained within a shining platinum frame was an illustration of a starry scene. A man in a fine white turban crowned by a single violet plume. A woman, perched on a balcony, in a refreshing blue-green, a jasmine flower set into her long, dark braid.

They stared longingly into each other’s eyes, conveying an emotion not spoken aloud. No words were needed for what they had: a love so tender it made the night weep. The stars into glittering tears sliding down the face of darkness.

Standing before the painting of the happy couple, Jamil folded his arms and frowned.

… Can feelings truly defy social status?

"A street rat marrying a princess… Hah."

His fingers curled to fists, digging into the pristine white fabric of his suit. Jamil's expression remained neutral, no hint of the bitterness brewing within. He was a master of leashing it.

What nonsense. I doubt their happiness lasted long. The difference in their standing is far too vast to be bridged.

Jamil lowered his gaze and looked away.

Adjacent to the loving pair was a spindly man with a curled goatee. His crimson and black headdress resembled the flared hood of a desert viper—a look iconic to the Sorcerer of the Sands. He gleefully clasped a golden oil lamp in his long, bony fingers. A remarkable achievement, an item he had been searching his entire life for.

Now, here was a great man. Someone who had slaved away and earned his reputation, climbed in social ranks on merit alone. The Sorcerer of the Sands would die a highly accomplished man, advisor to a sultan, renown scholar mage, and seeker of truth.

The very symbol of Scarabia’s spirit of deliberation.

"Jamil-shi?"

The voice was soft and nervous, like that of a specter not yet parted from this world. A faint blue glow fell upon the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Jamil turned, releasing a sigh when he realized who had appeared beside him. "... Oh. It's you, Idia-senpai."

"Eeep!" His upperclassman jumped at the mention of his name. He clung to the doorway, and anxiety evident on his pale face.

"Well? Don't let my presence deter you from appreciating the artwork."

"N-No, that's okay!! It was getting to be too crowded in the main hall, so I wanted to dip and take a breather somewhere quiet to let my stamina recharge... b-but that's completely pointless if other people are still around!"

"You won't even notice me. I not a snake—I don't bite," Jamil insisted flatly. Not unless I want to. "You look suspicious lurking in the doorframe. You may as well come in."

Left with no other choice, Idia awkwardly shuffled into the exhibit.

He positioned himself a good distance away from Jamil, not saying so much as a word as he stared at an ornate figure of a broad-bodied ape. Its lips were twisted into a grotesquely wide smile.

Nestled in the monkey’s palms was a massive red jewel, glistening even in the scarce light. Idia's own terrified reflection bounced back at him in the gem’s many facets.

"Can't believe I got dragged out for this," the third year grumbled under his breath. "I-I wanted to go to that pop-up Sled Over Heels collab cafe with the walk-in museum... Instead I have to be here and gawk at the same pictures I've seen over and over again in magic history textbooks... Aaah, it totally doesn't compare at all to cute anime girls pouring all their passion into the artful sport of sledding!"

Some small, fragmented part of Jamil grimaced at the disrespect, try as he might to close off his ears, to not engage. No good ever comes of provoking a stubborn mule, he chided himself.

But the devil on his left shoulder pounced.

"Idia-senpai," Jamil spoke carefully, a slight edge to his voice. It made the hairs on the back of Idia's neck stand at attention. "Are you not a fan of this style of artwork? Or is it the subject matter you find distasteful?"

His upperclassmen startled. Horrified as the realization that Jamil had heard his every complaint, the tips of his flaming hair colored pink.

"W-Well... I'm not exactly a buff for this kind of thing," Idia stuttered. "It's ancient history. Been there, don’t that. Th-There's really no point in being on that grind cycle if it all just amounts to the same ending anyway. That's basically all history is, anyway."

Jamil bristled—though he took care to not let it show. "I beg to differ. The story of the Sorcerer of the Sands defies such paltry notions. He struggled much in his life, even served under a carefree, incompetent sultan that barely listened to a work he said.”

I know what that’s like.

“Jamil…!”

A smile he thoroughly detested flashed in his mind. So big and pearly and irritating as he offered him his hand.

“Let’s start over. We can be rivals… but we can be friends too.”

But that boy was a fool.

Feelings can’t trump social status. Not then, not now. Not ever.

“And yet it was thanks to his contributions that he is remembered today as one of the greatest men to have ever lived. The Sorcerer of the Sands was able to break free and live as he desired. He acquired the Genie of the Lamp and phenomenal cosmic power. He decided his own destiny.”

"Uweh, sounds like he's your kami-oshi, Jamil-shi... I guess it makes sense though, since you and the Sorcerer of the Sands are the same character archetype and everything. Chunnibyous gotta stick together and all…”

"… What is that supposed to mean?" Jamil planted his hands on his hips. He didn’t understand all of Idia’s slang, but he also wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

Idia's eyes—wide and anxious—cut away from him. “I-It’s nothing important…”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

“B-Because you’re definitely the type who would hold a grudge if anyone pisses you off!!”

“How rude. I’m offended that you think so lowly of me.” Jamil allowed himself a little smirk. “I’ll have you know that I won’t stop there. In fact, I’ll enact a vengeance plot so excruciatingly humiliating that you won’t ever be able to face the light of day comfortably again.”

“S-See?! That’s what I meant!! Y-You’re a certified chuunibyou!!”

“Whatever that means, I assure you that I’m not. Is it so wrong to look back on history and to appreciate how far we’ve come since?”

“Th-That’s…”

Jamil found himself returning to the painting of the Sorcerer with the lamp. He was almost drawn to it, lulled into a hypnotic trance. An item that could make all of his hopes come true…

“Let me ask you this: if you could have any wish granted, what would that wish be?”

“E-Eh?! Any wish…” Idia fiddled with the glittering buttons on his suit. He nibbled on his lower lip, a darkness having swept up what little color there was left to him. “I-I can’t say it, but… more than anything, there’s someone I want to say goodbye to.”

“I see. A fond farewell.”

Letting go.

Jamil’s chest tightened.

In a distant memory, flowers of fire lit up the night. He had been dancing then, hair and fabric flying as he spun and spun and spun. When had he last felt so free? His wings unbound, the sky as his limits.

“As for myself, what I wish for most of all is…”

He glanced back at the painting of the two lovers. Star-crossed, against a star-streaked sky. Adventure calling, liberation beckoning.

A look most malicious graced his careful controlled features. Lips in a lopsided smirk, eyes like daggers, glinting sinisterly in the dark. Concealed weapons rising to the surface.

“… to be well-connected with people who may prove useful in attaining my dreams. Yes, that’s it. Useful.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Jamil Viper #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #Jafar #Aladdin #Princess Jasmine #something no one asked for #Jamil birthday takeover #Zazu #Maleficent

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four-of-them-showdown · 5 months

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Propaganda under the cut!!

Uriel, Sun Wukong, ABFD, Secretive Plotter:

"Okay so like imagine that you're bored as hell looking through livestreams until you come across this fucking insane man with no face. You then preceed to essentially cyberbully/stan him for all eternity. And this happens to three other people who also wont shut the fuck up about this man, so you more or less become a fanclub for this cringefail maniac. Also, yes, that's Uriel from the Bible except she's wlw and keeps shipping the insane faceless guy with his super hot extremely murderous companion. ABFD is a 14 year old chunni, Sun Wukong is THAT Sun Wukong and ends up adopting the crazy guy as his brother. And then Secret Plotter [■ ■ ■] [■ ■ ■] [■ ■ ■] and ends up becoming the adoptive father of [■ ■ ■] and raises [■ ■ ■] with his companions from [■ ■ ■]. They don't rly have a group name (although three of them DO form an idol group) from what I remember so you can just call them the Kim Dokja fanclub."

Crow, Aion, Yaiba, Rom:

"They’re all so stupid (affectionate)"

#omniscient reader's viewpoint #show by rock #uriel orv #sun wukong orv #abyssal black flame dragon #secretive plotter #crow show by rock #aion show by rock #yaiba show by rock #rom show by rock #four of them showdown #round 1 #polls

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aiura-stan · 13 days

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it’s 1-3! really!

The thing in his arm is called “black pete?” I seem to remember it being “black beat…”

Ok update: just checked the original, and the katakana does in fact read “black beat” (buraaku bi-to.) So it must have been a error by the translators.

ブラック・ビート= black beat.

Also, for fanfiction reference, here’s Kaidou’s chunnibyou narrative/backstory: “Black Beat” is the godlike (or demon like) force in Kaidou’s right arm. Dark Reunion, an organization dedicated to weeding out ‘unnecessary’ elements from mankind, wants to steal (and presumably extract) that power from his arm and use it to create a new world order. Kaidou will prevent that from happening, since he is the Jet Black Wing.

Shun’s hobby is people watching?

Also, I like how Shun gradually grows out of his chunni behaviors over the course of the series. Or at least, he lets himself show others his real personality a bit more. Pretty sure he wears the arm bandages up to the very last chapter, lol.

We never do learn how a snake appears in the sleeve of that student’s shirt, do we? Saiki implies it wasn’t him. There’s no logical explanation for a snake appearing in someone’s sleeve, so it must have been another psi user, presumably one that can use a power like saiki’s teleport/apport ability.

I like that Saiki is still interested in what happens, even though he already left the classroom… I’m sure part of it was protectiveness (it is a poisonous snake after all) and the other part was curiosity. What I want to know is why Saiki was entirely uncurious as to how the snake got there in the first place. It’s not like snakes appearing in students’ sleeves is an every day occurrence… did the student put it there himself? Why? Asou must have known this gag would leave the audience with questions, but he never answers any of them.

Snakes don’t attack unprovoked…

least realistic part of Saiki k thus far. that there might be espers in the world? entirely possible. that a weak and badly injured snake would attack a person out of nowhere? you’re thinking of the wrong animal; serpents don’t do that.

A hopeless case indeed. Though that’s definitely Saiki’s fault.

This is the end of 1-3!💫

#read-saiki #read-saiki 1-3

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rlaehrwk-37 · 11 months

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They really asked the question i asked the kdj bot 💀

translation — @lee-hakhyun^^

Chunni dragon lies again. It’s not as if he was the one to point out KDJ’s black flame dragon huh

Also, URIELLLL ILY

Also “I realized what the characters of this world are dealing with.” WHDHWJJDJW LHH you just figured it out huh 😭😭 don’t tell me none of these guys went for a shit in the apocalypse until now.

#lee hakhyun #orv #orv side story #omniscient reader’s viewpoint #orv spoilers

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crystalcatgamer · 11 months

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silly seasons

Okay MORE stuff from my Constellation Gang doc <- all this is canon to the college!CG AU (Part one and two)

A stylish, warm, and dressed-up Constellation Gang in the winter!

Pls observe ABFD in his chunni glory and his tired archangel noona

"When the cold settles in, spirits are lured out by the chill in the air to steal humanity's warmth... Being able to arm myself more securely is vital, and so I wear these boots, carved from the darkest night."

“THEY’RE JUST BOOTS, YOU DAMN BRAT!”

ABFD: Gets cold, minds it -> wears bomber jackets and parkas (fingerless gloves)

Uriel: Doesn't get cold, doesn't mind it -> wears whatever looks cute; fur-lined crop jackets, makes people feels cold just looking at her (Cute gloves!)

SWK: Gets cold, doesn't mind -> Wears really big floofy jackets, not the long kind, just fluffy as hell. Turtlenecks are irritating (no gloves)

SP: Doesn't get cold, doesn't mind -> Wears long coats and the like (more form fitting); if it has fur, it's itchy, so no floofy outerwear (Usual black gloves)

Onto them in the summer, ft a pool party

uriel relaxing on her huge angel wing pool float, with a glass of lemonade. She wears black swimsuits with lots of ruffles!

SWK splashes everyone and makes ABFD wear floaties (he refuses to take off the bandages). They shove a donut ring on ABFD because he’s shit at swimming

ABFD: GET IT OFF

URIEL: YOU'RE GONNA DROWN

SP plucking ABFD out of the pool: if you drown one more time you're going to sit with me at the chairs

grumpy wet manchild sulking on the chair while cool lifeguard SP sips his drink and passes ABFD a glass of juice. SP got sunglasses (SWK) and a whistle (Uriel) and grills food for them all. He still has the fucking veil.

#my Beloveds #They are so cute #They make me so.#ajsnxiwmod #sometimes I’m like maybe I’m too obsessed with these guys #And then I find new art on Twitter and devour it #my writing #CONSTELLATION GANG #secretive plotter #uriel orv #demon like judge of fire #sun wukong orv #prisoner of the golden headband #abyssal black flame dragon #babies #orv #orv novel #I am ink on a page (A story in the making)#<- personal tag dont rb

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dhoklaaminoacid · 10 months

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proper patola nakhra ae swag suit patiala shahi chunni teri black oh Munde haunke bharde tainu takk takk te turrey jado hath tu lakk utte rakh ke

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concussed-to-pieces · 7 months

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Wolves At The Door; Part Six

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: The man tongued at the inside of his cheek nervously, the faint taste of hot chocolate abruptly cutting through the phantom smell of iron.

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our sixth installment! Enjoy!

Prelude

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental duress and unprotected sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

Despite his unfamiliarity with the terrain, Karl would say the two of you were making good time. Even with your heavy pack on you were always ahead of him, gliding effortlessly through the snow. It made carrying on a conversation difficult, of course, but he didn't mind the quiet all that much. If anything it seemed to suit the hushed aura of the forest, all noise dampened by the towering forms of snow-covered spruce trees. Intermittent birdsong did break the stillness, as well as the occasional squirrel scolding them from their impenetrable fortresses of boughs. Those interruptions were invaluable to Karl, because it meant that the wildlife was behaving normally.

He had offered to come along because privately, secretly, he was immensely concerned about lycans coming across you while you were out in the woods unattended. It wasn't even a concern at this point, he would grudgingly label it a legitimate fear. So if hauling a sledge loaded with gear and crates of jars was what he needed to do to stay near you, then Heisenberg was going to be as docile as a fucking lamb about it.

It would be pretty poor form if he let you get eaten by those freaks, especially since you had been so hospitable.

The sun was just barely peeking through the clouds overhead when you called for a halt, settling yourself carefully down on a boulder alongside the vague outline of the road. Karl was grateful for the pause, if only because he wanted to take the moment to get his bearings. Being forbidden to leave Miranda's clutches hadn't done his sense of direction any favors! Oh certainly, he could always feel where north was, but that didn't do much for him if he didn't know where he was.

"If we keep up this pace, we should have no trouble reaching the lean-to before dark." You patted the rocky surface next to your thigh. "Take a breather. The sled's not giving you trouble, right?"

Karl shook his head, dropping onto the rock and taking a sip from the old water bottle you had loaned him. "Light as a feather, sugar." Without his input, his eyes strayed to your lips while you had a drink as well.

He hadn't minded kissing you at all that fateful evening. If he was being honest, it had been on his mind in a fairly insufferable way. He chalked it up to maybe just some weird development with the cadou; the Black God must have gone up in flames with the rest of the madhouse so it made sense that there would be variances in his cadou's behavior.

He realized he was staring after a moment and averted his gaze, busying himself with dusting some of the snow off the toe of his boot. "What's on the list for supplies, anyhow?"

You squinted upwards at the white sky as if you were thinking hard. "Staples, of course. Sugar, flour, oatmeal, peanut butter, lard... Is there anything specific you want me to add? No promises, but if there's extra credit left over we can prioritize it."

Karl bit his lip contemplatively. Most of the things that immediately came to mind would pose a spoilage problem. "Nah," he said instead. "I'm content."

"We'll impulse buy, then!"

…

The two of you arrived at the halfway point by a little after three o'clock, if your watch was anything to go by. You immediately got to work, unstrapping your boots from your skis and then using your gloved hands to sweep the gathered debris out of the corners of the lean-to. Seeing the usual dry leaves and piles of acorn shells left by the local wildlife gave you a warm feeling of familiarity; though the past year had been so, so odd, some things had stayed consistent.

"Want me to clear a space for the fire? We could use those leaves for tinder." Karl suggested and you agreed, pointing him in the direction of the folding shovel you had strapped to the sled. The rusty metal barrel base that you had always built the fire in previously was in useable shape, so the man began to excavate the snow from its interior.

It looked like the lean-to roof had survived unscathed, though a few large limbs rested on top of it precariously. More detritus from that last wild storm that had ripped through the area, no doubt. The small woodpile that you had carefully stacked and covered with a canvas cloth last winter had been toppled as well, but it hadn't done the wood much harm. You were just glad the canvas had gotten caught by the fork of a nearby tree instead of entirely blowing away to parts unknown.

With the base cleared out, Heisenberg began the careful process of coaxing a small fire to life. Luckily whoever had left the barrel had cut the sides high enough to block most of the wind, though Karl did end up reshaping them into more of a curve for added protection.

For your part, you untied the thick wool blanket you had lashed to the bottom of your pack and rolled it out on the concrete floor of the lean-to, then placed both bedrolls down as well. After that, you rummaged around in your backpack for the mess kit and the carefully-packed remains of cured boar meat, getting started on melting some snow for safe drinking water.

Karl sidled up, pilfering a fatty piece of cold gristle and chewing it meditatively. "Where's that road go?" He asked, gesturing at a well-worn track that branched off from the one you followed into town.

You shrugged. "Dunno'. Never checked." Now that he mentioned it, though, the other road did seem a bit more traveled than the last time you had seen it. Maybe you were imagining things; it had been at least a year since your last visit. The trees also appeared to grow thicker together further down that road. Despite their leafless forms, their branches met overhead in an ashen arch that for some reason reminded you of gnarled, bony fingers.

You shook your head at yourself, annoyed with how unnerved you were by trees. Granted it wasn't as if the pines were much better; what little you could see of the greenery on them under the snow read as nearly black against the white foreground. They stood as stoic sentries for their brittle brethren, filling in what gaps remained on the forest floor with their multitudinous, quick-spreading seedlings.

It's just because it's darker over there, you told yourself in an effort to rationalize how weirdly uneasy the road made you feel. It's been a strange year. Vowing to put it out of your mind, you began heaping more snow into the small pot over the fire and then dug back into your backpack. "I brought cocoa," you sang at Karl, flapping the two packets in the air.

The man practically lunged at you to snatch a packet, his expression one of unbridled delight. You made a mental note to get chocolate chips if you could swing it. Judging from his reaction, his sweet tooth had been neglected a little too long! You didn't anticipate the kiss on the forehead he gifted you in thanks, your face immediately flushing with heat.

Night fell as the two of you settled into an early dinner, and even while you tried to ignore it, you couldn't shake the creeping sensation you felt anytime your eyes strayed to that other road. Karl seemed to be in good spirits though, the man savoring his cup of prefab hot cocoa with the air of a seasoned connoisseur enjoying a decadent treat.

"We should do this more often." He mused, his words giving you an odd little thrill, only for him to dash the feeling when he continued, "I can't even remember the last time I had hot chocolate." Heisenberg paused, as if attempting to recall. His voice bore an uncharacteristic softness when next he spoke. "Always with a little caramel drizzled on the spoon, so it would melt when you stirred it."

You added caramel to your mental list, taking another sip of your cocoa. "I usually don't bother with premade stuff. The packets get damp sometimes and then it's just wasted product, y'know?"

He nodded, shifting in place alongside you in the lean-to until his thigh pressed to your own, the man somehow putting off heat that threatened to put the fire to shame. It was a companionable silence that the two of you shared for a while after that, interspersed only with the crackling of the small fire.

"What time do you usually get to the town?" Heisenberg queried quietly.

"Depends on a few things. I've gotten there as early as one in the afternoon and as late as six at night."

Karl's brow furrowed, the man seeming confused. "What, and you made it back here that same night?"

You realized the source of his confusion and hurried to elaborate, "no no, there's a campground on the outskirts of the town. It's kind of a tourist spot, or at least it was once. The terrain around here attracts a lot of people." You then gestured at the sled full of crates. "Backpackers and those 'finding-myself' types love nothing more than purchasing local goods at inflated prices. That's the only way I managed to strike a deal with Emil."

"Emil?"

"He's the man who runs the supply store in town. He used to buy all the pelts off my family when they would swing back into town after an extended stay at the hunting cabin, but obviously I'm not much one for big game," you sighed. "I'm not sure if he'll even be interested in the rabbit skins this year, truth be told, but no harm in trying. They aren't exactly heavy."

…

You kept melting snow after the two of you had eaten, making sure it was boiled sufficiently before starting to refill your water bottle. His was next, and you sternly told him to finish at least half of the bottle before he went to bed.

Karl gamely did so, not overly worried himself with dehydration but touched by your concern all the same. "What time are we up?" He asked while you carefully poured the last of the water into an old hot water bottle.

You fastened the plug on the bottle, shaking it a bit to make sure it didn't leak before stuffing the bottle all the way down into the base of your sleeping bag. With that done, you brushed off your hands and offered him your most eloquent shrug. "Probably a little before sunrise? It gets too bright to sleep late out here, even when it's cloudy." Heisenberg nodded, his eyes drawn once more to your mouth when you absently licked your lips and muttered something about needing chapstick.

Stop it, stop it. Frustrated with himself, he once more directed his attention elsewhere. Specifically, towards the darker area down that other road. It wasn't even so much the actual darkness, but the feeling of it. Knowing that it was there whether he looked or not, but also grappling with the sensation that if he looked away, it would somehow change, get larger, swallow the area-

Karl didn't need a map to know that the road led to Miranda's village. It was insidious, an echo of a trace of scent in the air; dull ochre of rust and gray of decay filling his mind with thoughts of his time before you. Deep down he knew he was just imagining it, he had to be. Either that or the bitch was tormenting him from beyond the grave, more mind games just when he had finally started to think he could live peacefully.

The man tongued at the inside of his cheek nervously, the faint taste of hot chocolate abruptly cutting through the phantom smell of iron. Plum spice cake. He found himself willing the pleasant memory to the forefront of his mind: your smile of relief, the way your eyes had looked, cinnamon and sugar and the bright, rosy stains from the plums on his fingertips…

He knew he was being stupid, seeing things that weren't there, but it almost seemed like the waning fire burned a little brighter. You leaned into his side companionably, banishing the rest of his past specters with the simple comfort of your presence.

"Thanks for coming with me." You murmured. "It can be a little spooky out here all alone."

Karl draped his arm around your shoulders. "Don't worry," he assured you with a confidence that he didn't feel, "I'm the scariest shit in these woods."

"Oh of course. Absolutely." You were humoring him, your tone suspiciously dry, but the man ignored the jibe in favor of unzipping his sleeping bag and casually wrapping it around himself. You followed suit, squirming down into your bedroll and then issuing a long sigh of contentment. "I know I'll regret not owning a sleeping pad or something to put my bag on aside from the blanket, but it just feels nice to lay down at this point."

"You can curl up closer to me." Karl offered rapidly before he could think better, grimacing and then amending his words, "I mean, uh, if you get cold."

"Thanks, I'll definitely leech a little heat from you." You laughed, wriggling your sleeping bag over until the two of you were side by side once more. "The hot water bottle can only do so much for me and you don't seem to be suffering from these balmy temperatures."

Karl shrugged, "I don't think my temp can drop below a certain level." The cadou wouldn't allow it, he privately believed. It had nearly killed him with fever responses in the past.

"Keeping yourself warm with static electricity, huh?"

"What? No, that doesn't even–why do you say things, damn." Karl huffed in bewilderment, narrowing his eyes as you began to snicker. "Fuck you're odd."

"And yet here you are with me. What does that say about you, weirdo?" You mused playfully, coaxing a grudging chuckle out of the older man. "In all seriousness, I tease to let you know I'm okay with…how you are. I may not totally understand how your everything works, but I don't want you feeling like I'm walking on eggshells around you."

Heisenberg opened his mouth, thought better of it and just spread his sleeping bag out over the two of you, burying his face in the nylon so that you couldn't see how red he was positive he had gotten. "Go to sleep." He muttered gruffly, rolling over so that his back was to you. That way, he could keep an eye on the road. It had nothing to do with not letting you gloat over his…embarrassing expression.

…

You woke to darkness and Karl's rumbling snore overhead, so you guessed it must still be in the middle of the night. Your watch let you know it was a few minutes before two a.m., and you shifted your weight as your back began to protest your current position.

The rustling fabric of the sleeping bag must have woken your companion, because you felt him start. His hand gripped your leg when you tried to move it, so you whispered, "just me."

You didn't get a response, which was a bit unnerving. Karl's hand groped upwards, ending up on your shoulder where he paused, seeming confused. After a second or two of silent fumbling, the man's fingers caught the hood of your jacket and tugged it off. He then rested his hand on the back of your neck, heaving a sigh before using his other arm to pull you bodily against his chest. His mouth pressed a prickly kiss to the area just above your left eyebrow, the facial hair brushing your skin in a way that left you tingling.

Gods, he was so warm. Despite him keeping his sleeping bag unzipped, he was still radiating heat. You curled up in his arms, accepting a few more haphazard, lazy kisses before the man apparently fell back to sleep. His hold on you tightened momentarily, and then went slack.

You, for your part, simply buried your face in his chest and pressed even closer to him, hooking a leg over his hip to steady yourself. Heisenberg groaned at your movement and you realized suddenly that he was hard. Not only that, but that you had slotted your body against his in such a way that you couldn't really avoid rubbing against him. You, certain that your face was about to burst into flames from embarrassment, attempted to ease yourself back, but a soft, shuddering exhale stopped you in your tracks.

"You keep wriggling on my dick like that, sugar," Karl murmured, now very obviously conscious, "I'm goin' to pin you down."

"Sorry," you squeaked out, "was cold and trying to get comfortable. Didn't mean to wake you."

Heisenberg rocked his hips into your own, startling a little noise out of you when his rigid cock ground against you. "Well I'm awake now."

"I can tell."

"How about I fuck the two of us to sleep, hmm?" Karl breathed, the filth of his words only amplified by another insistent shift of his pelvis. "Warm you up a little, you poor thing." You stammered momentarily, incredibly flustered, and Heisenberg seized the opportunity to mouth around the shell of your ear. "Trust me sugar, I'll be as gentle as a lamb." He promised in a searing whisper, and you could feel the curve of a wolfish smirk against your skin.

"Oh." Oh. "B-But we don't…I mean, you want to?" You had to make sure, certain you must have misinterpreted. Somehow.

"Do you want to?" He asked, the heat still in his words. For a moment you believed you could see the reflection from his eyes in the darkness, as if he was no longer a man but some kind of animal. Hungry, wild and sharp and yet…patiently waiting for your answer.

"I…I do, yes." You admitted softly.

…

Yes.

Karl no longer cared about the damn darkness that had encroached upon his already-uneasy dreams. He no longer cared about anything really, aside from getting your pants off without tearing them. He got the feeling you'd be a little pissed off with him if he ruined the integrity of your gear.

Yes. Was it being greedy if you wanted it too?

Gods, he couldn't think straight. How could anyone think straight when they were confronted with something like this? Confronted with the reality that even without intimidating, conniving, taking, he could just…have something. He could have this, without scraping, without scheming.

You wanted him. It was…beautiful in its baseness.

Karl had no idea whether this was affection. He would certainly be the last damn person to know if it was, but whatever it was gentled his touch, held his greed at bay for the moment in favor of savoring the sensation.

Unbidden, however, a memory surfaced. Well, it was more like a piecemeal of dozens of similar interactions. "You're so strong, Heisenberg." Miranda had often sighed, gazing upon the carnage he had wrought in his latest fit of temper. "My special, powerful child."

Strong, that was what he was. He needed to be just to survive the implantation process, and everything after that had served as lesson after lesson beat into his stubborn skull. Karl had grown from a child desperately seeking love into a jaded, spite-filled man driven by the need to both fawn and lash out, alternating between the two methods with a sinking, baleful sense of inevitability to get what he required to succeed.

I must kill her.

The last thought before his mind had snapped, the last, hateful oath of the man he had been. Maybe it was a little too ambitious to say he had been that man, as if he wasn't still that man. All the progress in the world wouldn't fix the damage that had been done to him, the damage he had done to himself.

"Poor Heisenberg, so strong you ruin everything you touch," Miranda cooed from his memories.

Karl's brow furrowed, fingers flared across your collarbone while he felt your chest heave. "I'm gonna' be real careful with you," he murmured, half to you and half to the echo of the false mother from his past. He offered you a faint smile he was sure you couldn't even see in the darkness, continuing, "bear with me, alright?"

You nodded, your hand grazing his shoulder before coming to rest on his cheek. Heisenberg, without meaning to, leaned into the touch. Something in his chest ached with a foreign need, an unknowable desire he couldn't put words to, and Karl made a soft noise in his throat before he could stop himself.

"Guess the Duke was right," he muttered reluctantly, "seems like you may have tamed me." Your thighs framed his hips and you raised your pelvis to meet his own, making Heisenberg rumble out a curse and seize your pants at the waist, the man yanking them down to your ankles so you could kick them off. "One or two to start?" Karl asked, his mouth pressed to your ear while he tapped two fingers on your stomach.

"One, please." You requested softly. Karl knew you couldn't see him because you kept focusing your eyes somewhere past his left shoulder, but that was alright. Normal human night vision wasn't exactly something to write home about. He would just be careful.

Please. You had said please.

Karl bit his lip, walking his fingers lower until he could slide his hand into your underwear. Your body moved without his urging, propping yourself up a little, and you struggled out of your underwear. Then, you were fully exposed to him.

Heisenberg wasn't proud to say he froze. Despite his bravado, he wasn't exactly knowledgeable when it came to this specific act. He took in the sight of your body for a moment, commiting the visual to memory, and then slid his finger into your waiting entrance. The heel of his palm ended up pressed to your pubic mound and you were hot, so wet, Gods, his mouth was suddenly dry.

You whimpered something, fingers plucking at his clothes in the dark and Karl settled into a slow, plunging rhythm with his hand. Back and forth, curling his index and gently rocking the heel of his palm over your clit, the man eased himself against you, into you. For what he would argue was the first time in his life, Heisenberg let himself be led. Your reactions were his heading; soft sighs or nails digging into his arm or sweet, needy kisses that left him struggling for breath…it all urged him onward and Karl almost mourned the debaucherous moment. Somewhere deep in his soul he knew that this was important, gravely important, there would only be one time to do this right.

Should he lose himself and hurt you, even accidentally…that would be it. He would never trust himself near you again, would never take another risk like he was taking right now. And so, the man did his best to be tender. Clumsily, motions unsure and hands trembling a little despite his attempts to steady them, but his best all the same. Making certain you were ready before he inserted the second and third fingers, letting you beg and plead with him before he finally allowed you to unzip his pants, cautious. Everything moved at a maddeningly slow pace, yet you didn't push him at all. Your requests were gentle, honeyed with want and braced by the steely heat that he loved…that he enjoyed so much about you.

If he didn't know any better, Karl would have thought that you could hear what was going on in his head.

…

Even after you helped him shove his pants down, Karl continued to work his fingers inside you. "Let me know when you want me." He muttered, and you felt his free hand clench into a nervous fist beside your hip.

"You're b-being awfully considerate," you pointed out, more than a little breathless as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit.

"Bare minimum. I'm not small and I don't want to hurt you," was the curt reply.

"Can I…?" You trailed off, your face hot even while your hands rested on the outside of his thighs.

"'Can you…?'" Karl taunted, making you puff out an annoyed sigh and slide your hand over the divot of his right hip. Christ, if you weren't already used to how warm he was, you might have been concerned.

"Yeah, can I?" You mocked him right back, your palm pressed to a promising thatch of curls.

Karl hitched in a breath through clenched teeth and his fingers stilled inside you. "Y…Yeah. Please." His voice was so soft you nearly missed him saying it, practically a whisper.

A little stunned by the sudden change, you just nodded, assuming he could see you in the dark better than you could see him (which was not at all, by the way). "Spit or dry?" You asked, unprepared for the groan he let out at your simple query.

"Fuck, sugar, spit please, m'sorry." He mumbled, burying his face in your shoulder and plunging his fingers inside you with renewed vigor.

"Shh, I asked because I know it matters to some people," you tried to soothe him, confused at his apology but more than willing to acquiesce. Plus, if he kept moving his fingers like that-! Well, it was only fair that you oblige him in what he liked, he had been so considerate and thorough.

You licked your palm, pausing and letting a little extra saliva pool in the creases. Then, you reached out, seeking blindly with your other hand until you located his groin.

Oh.

He certainly hadn't been selling himself short. You swallowed hard and Heisenberg choked out a laugh against your neck, obviously guessing what you were reacting to. "Sorry, sugar. Tried to warn you." He breathed. "Should we scrap the whole idea?"

"No." Your voice was louder than you intended it to be and Karl laughed for real this time, a little hysterically but you couldn't really blame him. Unable to articulate something to get your sincerity across, you chose to simply close your slick fingers around his cock. It throbbed in your grip and Karl's laughter turned into a moan, the large man panting into your neck while you stroked him. His hips kept pumping forwards into your palm and he slurred out a swear when you swept your thumb over the head of his dick, his free hand fumbling to shove up your shirt so he could toy with your breasts.

"I want–to fuck you." It sounded like he was having difficulty speaking, but maybe you were just having difficulty comprehending. This was more stimulation than you'd had in years and you were finding it nearly impossible to focus on one sensation, your mind adrift in a haze of different pleasures. The rub of his fingers, the rough skin of his palm grazing one of your nipples, his voice grating out the request he had issued…it was almost too much to handle. "Sugar. Please–want to fuck you."

Please. That word, spoken the way that it was, made your pussy clench down on his fingers. You exhaled raggedly, caught off guard by your own reaction. "Okay." You breathed into his ear, "okay."

"Tell me you want me." He ordered, and you were sure you saw that faint eyeshine once more. "Please, sugar, lemme' know you want this. I just…I need to know."

"I want you." You assured him, whining unintentionally when he withdrew his fingers. Karl ducked his head, swiping his tongue over one of your nipples while you tried your hardest to get your hand to cooperate and line him up. Teeth teased at your nipple, making you sob out an embarrassingly loud, "fuck, please!", and Karl snarled in reply to your desperate noise. Finally you felt him nudge your entrance, but you were so wet his cock slid upwards to bump your clit instead, the hot pressure making your whole body quiver.

Heisenberg took himself in hand then, gently tapping your clit with the head of his cock and chuckling at the way you writhed pitifully underneath him. "Exhale for me now, sugar. Nice and slow," he coached, his voice almost maddeningly soft. Obediently you complied, and you felt the tip of his cock breach you. Overhead, Karl swore again, his body surging forward momentarily before quickly halting. "Fuck, sorry, sorry." He apologized breathlessly, then, "you're so wet sugar, fuck's sake."

"Good thing, too," you managed to respond, your ankles hooking into the back of his thighs so you could urge him deeper. Karl nearly toppled over, just managing to catch himself with his hands, and you tipped your head back in ecstasy as his hips met your pelvis. A low, wordless cry made its way from your mouth, the noise exclusively born of wanton need, and your nails dug into the back of Karl's shirt. "Yes," was all you could think to gasp against his cheek and Karl growled, snapping his hips forward.

The pace he set would have been absolutely punishing if it was anyone else doing it. You were still pretty sure you'd have bruises in the morning, but you couldn't bring yourself to worry about them. As Heisenberg panted and rutted himself against you, your mind was, for one blessed moment, utterly devoid of thought. You surrendered wholly to being cherished in the most feral way, and you let Karl work you through to your climax while chanting his name in his ear like a prayer. The man reached down abruptly, his thumb rubbing your clit, and you had to bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming as you came apart at his touch.

Karl shuddered violently at the bite, quickly withdrew himself from your body and began to stroke his cock. "Where?" He rasped, his voice wrecked.

You pressed your breasts together, hearing him groan seemingly in response. Then, the tip of his cock was bumping into the base of your breasts, his knuckles grazing your abdomen as he rapidly moved his hand back and forth. "Come for me, Karl?" You begged softly, listening to his breathing stutter. Karl started muttering curses one after another with no real rhyme or reason, his motions getting more and more frantic. Something began pooling beneath your breasts, the hot fluid making you shiver.

Heisenberg snapped to a halt and you felt his cock twitch as he came. "Oh, oh fuck." He panted, thrusting his dick absently up into the valley of your breasts. "Fuckin' hell, sugar." His come smeared with his movement, some of it dribbling down your side and making you yelp due to it tickling. Karl flinched at your sound, clapping a hand to your ribs and then issuing his own noise of dismay. "Shit, sorry, sorry sorry, I'll–here, my sleeve, I can just-" he fumbled to wipe at the drips and you couldn't help your laughter, batting his hand away.

"I've got it, I've got it." You continued giggling, muscle memory guiding you through the dark to the front section of your backpack where you kept some spare cloths for washing up. "Always prepared for any occasion. Including getting railed in the woods in the dead of night."

"Aren't I lucky." Karl remarked dryly. You found your mouth captured by another kiss, the man whispering, "get some rest, sugar. I'm not gonna' go so easy on you next time."

"Next time?" You asked curiously after he pulled away, the man settling in alongside you while you were doing your best to mop up the mess that was migrating towards your stomach.

"Yeah. Next time." You felt Karl's shoulder shift against your own in what was clearly a shrug. "If you want, of course."

You retorted, "I'll let you know if I can walk in the morning," making him snort. "Let's hope for the best, okay?"

"Mmhm." Heisenberg's arms wrapped around you, the man pulling you into his chest once more.

Without really thinking about it, you reached upwards and started stroking the back of his head. Your fingers gently untangled some of the knots in his hair, smoothing the messy, wavy strands back into some semblance of manageability. Karl went still against you for what seemed like an overly long time, and then suddenly a trembling sigh issued from him, his breath gusting out over your head. "This okay?" You whispered, somewhat concerned. "Not pulling or yanking on your hair, right?"

"I…" Karl hesitated, as if he was struggling with something. "Never had anyone touch me like that, that's all. Caught me off-guard."

Your chest ached at his admission, and you caught yourself biting your lip to stave off the tears. "Well," you finally said, proud that your voice didn't waver, "I'll do it whenever you'd like."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I'd…I'd like that, yeah. I-If you want to. If it's not a nuisance." He was speaking painfully slow. "Sorry, I'm uh…I'm not used to this. You can forget about it, if you want."

"You're fine." You murmured. You ended up finger-combing his hair until the two of you fell asleep, your face buried in his chest and Karl's arms still holding you tightly.

Part Seven

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onlinesikhstore · 3 months

Photo

Punjabi Cotton Hajooria Sikh Kaur Dupatta Chunni Singh Parna Khalsa Siropa F4

Punjabi Cotton material Hajooria Embroidery Sikh Kaur Dupatta Chunni Singh Parna Khalsa Siropa

Colour: Cream, White, Blue, Black, Yellow, and Orange

Material - Punjabi Cotton

Malpuri Design embroidery - design may slightly vary - subject to availability

Punjabi Desi Trendy Traditional Parna/Hajooria

Standard Hajooria size approx. 2.25m x 0.85m

Worn mostly with Kurta Pajama and can be we worn with Sherwani

It can be tied as Parna - good to wear on Punjabi Festivals, Mela, Nagar Kirtan and Gurudwara Sahib

Can we worn in parties with Sherwani and Kurta Pajama

Can also be used as Shawl around your shoulders over kurta pajama or both together.

Goes with any traditional Punjabi Cultural outfit

Any questions please do not hesitate to contact us.

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indiesole · 11 months

Text

Indies (Lifetime) Playlist Tributes to Music Legends ! -PART 16

SUDHA MALHOTRA’S TOP 225 SONGS (@INDIES) ! (Contd from 176) -

Yt Link:

Saiyaa chhodo bhi – Bhala Aadmi

Sach sach bolo – Sim Sim Marjina

Lad gayi bichhu – Oot Pataang

Kathti nahi raat – Andher nagri chaupat raja

Meri payal me – Night Bird

Natkhat natkhat – Amar Shaheed

Aata hai karar – Shikar

Barse room barse jhoom – Suhaag

Ye pyar tha ya kuch aur tha – Prem Rog

Salame hasrat kabl kar lo- Babar

Jeevan ka tu ujiyara hai – Patit paavan

Sach bataa kya hua – Do Dost

Saiyaa tere paiyaa padu - Gauhar

Jo beet gayi - Naag Padmini

Vande Matram – Andolan

Zara humse nazar milana – Diamond King

Duniya ke bazaar me – Makkhee Choos

Khub ulfat me – Zindagi ya Toofan

Deep gagan ke – Zameen Ke Tare

Duniya banana wale – Anarbala

Sakhi aaj magan man mera – Ayodhyapati

Aao hamare hital me – Kundan

Saiyyan tore - Gauhar

Puran desh ki -

Idhar mat dekh sanware – Poonam Ka Chand

Na to inkar kiya – Sunehre Kadam

Jane kaisa jadu kiya – Parvarish

Maa re maa - Harishchandra

Is duniya ko chhod ke hum toh – Great Show Of India

Lal nili pili – Black Shadow

Jaadugar balma ne mera – Toofani Tirandaz

Jinko jiya tarse – Arzoo

Kehna nahin mane – Do Dost

Man me tere kya hai – Bus Conductor

Jaadu bhari ye nazar – Rifle Girl

Puran dishi ki – Chandi Pooja

Jab usko dekha – Zalim Tera Jawab Nahin

Yu na dekho mujhe – Badshah Salaamat

Jaise chaman me – Sitamgar

Seema aa gayi sochne ki – Jo huwa so bhool

Ruturaja ne teer chalaya – Ram Bhakt Vibhishan

Jab se dekha tujhe – Tere dwar khade bhagwan

Duniyawale sach kehte hain – Jahazi Lutera

Jaao jhanjhar – Shesh Naag

Chori chori aana – Hathkadi (1958)

Ja re balma – Mohabbat ki jeet

Jo teer sahe – Naag Padmini

Kaise zulmi se – Poonam ka chand

Teri zulf me jab - Aadmi

Sunoji mohe da lage – Zalim tera jawab nahi.

………………………………………………………………………..

JASMINE SANDLAS ‘S TOP 90 SONGS (@INDIES)!

Yt link:

BAMB AAGYA

PATLO

Party Non-Stop

ROUTINE

Ittar

Folk medley

ILLEGAL WEAPON

Illegal Weapon 2.0

Bagavat

Royi na

Sip Sip 2.0

Sip Sip

Musafira

Bamb Jatt

Thug Life

Vachari

MIthi Mithi

Baddal

Baddal-Explicit version

Shadaiya

Sone Di Chidiya

Raat Jashan Di

Guglu Muglu

Patt Lai Geya

MAGO

Kashni (Ed Sheeran remix)

Kashni

Mang Ke

Mang Ke(remix)

Yakeen

Jee Jeha Karda

Gaana Challe Ya Na

Mombatti

Mood Sarkar da

Bareek

36 Mera Vargiya

Hanera

Nagni

End Karade

Punjab de Javak

Beimaan

Jehri Ve

Bhaven tu

Adhi Rati

Pyari Mushkil

Sara college

Jee Jeha Karda (slowed reverb)

Uth na Khade

Salaam-e-Ishq meri jaan

Kehri Gali

Zikar

Punjabi Mutiyaran

Punjabi Mutiyaran (remix)

Kehnda Hi Nahi

Ik Main Kudi Punjabi

Chunni Black

Panjeba

Dil Tutteya

So High

Punjabi Club Mix

Tere Vangu

Aaja Dance Floor Pe

Veera (remix by DJ Rink)

Veera (remix)

Veera (loud version)

Dance

Sawan mein

Whiskey Di Botal

Zulfan

Cali Di Babe

Pyar Sajna

Machis

Koka

Pinjra

Hava Vich

Akal

Monologue (Gulabi)

Laddu

Laddu(remix)

Lv di Jean

Lv di Jean (remix)

The Joke

Mithi Mithi

Lalkara

Haaniyan

Gaun

Buhe Bariyan

Devil-Yaar Naa Miley .

..................................................................................................................

DIVYA BHARTI'S TOP 111 SONGS :

Yt Link:

1.Saat samundar paar

2.Pardesi panchhi bankar (saat samundar sad version)

3.Tujhe na dekhoon toh

4.Dil cheer ke dekh

5.Teri ummeed tera intezaar

6.” (short version)

7.Tujhse mujhe pyar tha pyaar hai

8.Aisi deewangi dekhi nahi kahin

9.Payaliyan oh ho ho

10.Dil ka kya kasoor (female)

11.Aankhon mein hai kya

12.Mohabbat ki kitabon mein

13.Milne ki tum koshish karna

14.Dil aashna hai

15.” (sad)

16.Tu pagal premi aawara

17.Aap jo mere meet na hote

18.Teri isi ada pe sanam

19.Khata to jab ho ke

20.Tere mere pyar mein

22.Bin tere kuchh bhi nahi

23.Jane de jane de mujhe jane de

24.Jo dil se nikle woh

25.Dil na kisi ka jaaye

26.O priya hua kya

27.Umar hai solah banke shola

28.Tere sur mein main gaoon

29.Sarpe gam gam

30.Dil hi toh hai aagaya

31.Dil le gayi teri bindiya

32.” (2nd version)

33.Aaya toofan

34.Rangeen haseen raat ho

35.Tale lagale pehre bithale

36.Sahiba o sahiba

37.Hum tum picture dekh rahe

38.Tumhein dekhen meri aankhen

39.Ek ladka tha ek ladki thi

40.Main khichi chali ayee

41.Chhat ke upar do kabootar

42.Chanchal chandni mehki raat hai

43.Ek dil ek jaan ek hai hamara

44.”

45.Maine na jana

46.Coming coming coming

47.Assa dil tere kadman wich

48.Mausam pyara bheega heega

49.Parody song - Shatranj

50.Dil ye pukaare aaja

51.Jalta hai badan yeh mera

52.Kya hua yeh kya hua

53.Aye sanam itna bata

54.Kaisi yeh khumari

55.Kya cheez hai mohabbat yeh

56.Mastiyon mein

57.Aankhon mein basa le

58.Meri jaan meri ishq mein

59.Dhin tak dhin tak – Balwaan

60. Manasukku vayasenna – Nila Pennae

61.Ayyo ayyo – Bobbili raja

62.Poongodiye

63.Odante vinade –Bobbili raja

64.Mengai polave

65.Otha kuyilu

66.Vaanil orunilavu

67.Raatiree vellai -

68.Korameenu komalam

69.Enn kadal

70.Mem premikulam

71.Kanyakumari - Valiban (Tamil)

72.Taddinaka tappadika

73.Pekalla jokerla – Assembly rowdy

74.Love me my hero – Rowdy alludu

75.Epa sindha - Valiban

76.Pappampatti - Valiban

77.Nilla Penne – Rathiri mella

78.Mudduto srungaara – Dharma kshetram

79.Illam nenjevaa – Ini vellvathu

80.Chinuku raalithe – Chittemma mogudu

81.Tolimuddu tolimuddu - Tolimuddu

82.Kichan kicha ka

83.Pelliki mundu – Dharma kshetram

84.Raathiri mella -

85.Rosa –Nilla Penne

86.Pudhu uravu

87.Boddulo rupayi

88.Sa ga ma da

89.Balapam patti

90.Namala swamiki – Chittemma mogudu

91.Kori kori – Rowdy Alludu

92.Naa ille naa swargam

93.Tholi muddhu tholi muddhu

94.Chemma chekka

95.Kanyakumari – Valiban (Telugu)

96.Raatiree vellai (version 1)

97.Muddutho srungara beetu

98.Maane vaa

99.Naa ille naa swargam

100.Tanala gadilona

101.Turpu kondallalo – Assembly Rowdy

102.Panthulu panthulu – Assembly Rowdy

103.Andamaina Vennelalona – “

104.Cheli nadume andam – Dharma kshetram

105.Ennand vasantamiye

106.Chittemma pottemma

107.Arre inka janka jinka – Dharma kshetram

108.Raava priyathama - Tollimudhu

109.Chittigumma padave - Tollimudhu

110.Enno ratrulu – Dharma kshetram

111.Prema geema pakkana -

112.Ilam nenjae vaa – Oru mutham

>>>>>>>.............................................................................

SHREYA JAIN 'S TOP 60 HINDI SONGS!

One of the near-extinct breed of spiritually lilting modern millennial Indian singers around.

God-gifted depth, splendid sauce, all wrapped atop in magnetic huskiness, this new gen playback diva is all set to rock both traditional old-school (that she's commendably kept alive on her Sm) with new age sparkle! .. And that audacious, awe-inspiring simplicity!

Yt Link:

Full playlist:

1.Chashni - Bharat (cover) 2.Tere jeha hor disda (c) 3.Tera mera aasmaan 4.Khoobi 5.Thehra 6.Dhadak meets Sairat (c) 7.Ishq hua - Aaja Nachale (c) 8.Jo tere na hue - Kalank (c) 9.Suhe we chire waaleya (c) 10.Akh lad jaave (c) 11.Nai lagda - Notebook (c) 12.Tu na mera (c) 13.Aadha ishq - Band Baaja Baaraat (c) 14.Mere naam tu - Zero (c) 15.Tumhi ho bandhu. Girls like you. (c) 16.Pareshaniyan 17.Aye khuda x bakhuda (c) 18.Meri ulfat mein - Tera Nasha (c) 19.Jo tu na mila - Asim Azhar (c) 20.Kabhii tumhee - Shershaah (c) 21.Aaoge tum kabhi (c) 22.Pachtaoge 23.Raataan lambiyaan - Shershaah (c) 24.Besharam rang - Pathaan (c) 25.Beete lamhe 26.Love mashup (c) 27.Mere Bina - Crook (c) 28.Aaj jaane ki zid & Piya tose (c) 29.Kyun rabba - Badla (c) 30.Kangna - Dr. Zeus(c) 31.Udd gaye - Ritviz (c) 32.Mausam ki - Black (c) 33.Biba - Marshmello x Pritam (c) 34.Pasbaan 35.Bas ek baar x Gud khaake (c) 36.Shaayad - Love Aaj Kal 37.Jiya le gayo ji mora sanwariya (c) 38.Maye ni meriye (c) 39.Apsara aali (c) 40.Pal - Jalebi (c) 41.Kaise hua - Kabir Singh (c) 42.Ve maahi - Kesari (c) 43.Ye baarish ka pani -Half Girlfriend(c) 44.Hamri atariya pe (c) 45.Chhoo lo - The Local Train (c) 46.Bella ciao x ladki bheegi bhaagi si (c) 47.Adhi adhi raat (c) 48.Humraah (c) 49.Haathon ki lakeeron mein (c) 50.Laija re (c) 51.Buhe bariyan (c) 52.30th February (c) 53.Ghar tum hi ho (c) 54.Khatah (c) 55.Gulaabi (c) 56.Ghani baawari (c) 57.Crazy kiya re (c) 58.Dobaara (c) 59.Tarasti nigaahen (c) 60.Naina thag lenge (c) ……………………………………………………………………….

THE BINACA-INDIES ALL-TIME TOP 1251 SUPERHIT SONGS OF BOLLYWOOD!

Yt Link:

Jyoti kalash chhalke – Bhabhi ki chudiyan

Dekh chand ki aur – Aag

Kehna hi kya – Bombay

O sajna barkha bahar – Parakh

Ganga ki lahren – Ganga ki lahren

Dil lootne wale jadoogar

Kahin deep jale kahin dil – Bees saal baad

Satyam Shivam Sundaram – Satyam Shivam Sundaram

O o o Mujhe kisi se pyar – Barsaat

Khoya khoya chand – Kala Bazaar

Sagar kinare dil ye pukare – Saagar

Yaad aa rahi hai (I) – Love Story

Chupke chupke raat din – Nikaah

Yad aa rahi hai (II) – Love Story

Chaudhvin ka chand – Chaudhvin ka chand

Abhi na jao chhod kar – Hum dono

Bol re kathputli – Kathputli

Jiya ho jiya kuch bol do

Hum intezar karenge – Bahu Begum

Mere sapnon ki rani – Aradhana

Dekho maine dekha hai – Love Story

Kora kagaz tha – Aradhana

Govinda ala re – Bluffmaster

Babul ki duwayein leti ja – Neelkamal

Geet gaya pattharon ne - Geet gaya pattharon ne

More balpan ke – Tansen

Shaam e gham ki qasam

Thandi hawayein lehra ke gayen – Naujawan

Jiya beqaraar hai – Barsaat

Aye mere humsafar – Qayamat se qayamat tak

Kabhi main kahoon – Lamhe

Ganga maiya mein jab tak – Suhag raat

Yaad kiya dil ne kahan ho tum – Patita

Aaj kal mein dhal gaya – Beti Bete

Aaaja re ab mera dil pukara – Aah

Zindagi ka safar hai ye kaisa safar – Safar

Kabhi khud pe kabhi halat pe

Aa laut ke aaja mere meet – Rani Roopmati

Sapt suran tin gram – tansen

Mera saaya saath hoga – Mera saaya

Chingari jo bhadke – Amar Prem

Chalte chalte yuhi koi mil gaya tha – Pakeezah

Aaja re pardesi – Madhumati

Ek pardesi mera dil le gaya – Phagun

Sohni Chenab de kinare – Sohni Mahiwal

Mere mehboob tujhe meri mohabbat ki kasam – Mere mehboob

Hey neele gagan ke tale – Humraaz

Humne jo dekhe sapne – Parivaar

Bol do meethe bol sohniye – Sohni Mahiwal

Akhiyan milake jiya bharmake – Rattan

Jana Gana Mana – Humrahi (1945)

Gham diye mustaquil – Shahjehan

Oh re taal mile – Anokhi Raat

Sab kuch seekha humne – Anari

Hoton pe sachai rehti hai – Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai

Hum bane tum bane – Ek Duje Ke Liye

Main kya janun kya jadu hai

Yeh kya hua – Amar Prem

Mere sapnon ki rani – Shahjehan

Yeh shaam mastani – Kati Patang

Diya jalao jagmag – Tansen

Aayega aane wala – Mahal

Zinda hoon main is tarah – Aag

Babul mora naiyar chhooto jaye – Street Singer

Mohabbat mein kabhi aisi bhi – Parwana

Bhool gaya sab kuch – Julie

Chand si mehbooba – Himalay ki god mein

Ek bangle bane nyara – President

Man dole mera tan dole – Nagin

Yeh rat bheegi bheegi – Chori chori

Tere husn ki kya tareef karoon – Leader

Hum dono do premi – Ajnabee

Dil mein aag lagaye - Alag Alag

Kaho na aas niras bhayi – Dushmun (1939) (Saigal)

So ja rajkumari – President (1937) (Saigal)

Sajan re jhoot mat bolo – Teesri Kasam

Chal dariya Mein Doob jayen – Prem Kahani

Nadiya se dariya – Namak Haraam

Gapoochi gapoochi gam gam – Trishul

Zindagi pyar ka geet hai – Souten

Kabhi Bekasi ne maara – Alag Alag

Chal ud ja re panchhi – Bhabhi

Aate jaate khoobsurat awara – Anurodh

Main tere pyar mein pagal – Prem Bandhan

Na jaane kya hua – Dard

Zindagi kaisi hai paheli – Anand

Chhod babul ka ghar – Babul

Rumjhum rumjhum chal tihari – Tansen

Prem kahani mein ek ladka hota hai – Prem Kahani

Nainon mein nindiya hai – Joroo Ka Ghulam

Parbat ke peechhe chambela gaon - Mehbooba

Yaar dildaar tujhje – Ajnabee

Main Toh Aarti Utaron re – Jai Santoshi Maa

Jeevna ke safar mein raahi – Munimji

Baghon mein bahar hai – Aradhana

Yeh dil aur unki nigahon ke saaye – Prem Parbat

Shyam teri Bansi Pukare – Geet Gaata Chal

Main pal do pal ka shair hoon – Kabhi Kabhi

Baag laga doon sajani – Tansen

Sawan ke nazare hain – Khazanchi (1941)

Rahe na rahe hum – Mamta

Ajeeb dastan hai yeh – Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai

Chhup gaye saare nazare – Do raaste

Tune o rangeele – Kudrat

Chal ri sajni ab kya soche – Bambai Ka babu

Bikhra ke zulfen chaman mein na jana – Nazrana

Gazab Ka hai Din – Qayamat se Qayamat Tak

Tere mere beech mein – Ek Duuje Ke Liye

Baharon mera Jeevan bhi sanwaro – Aakhri Khat

Jeevan ke safar mein rahi – Munimji

Kabhi na kabhi kahin na kahin – Sharaabi (1964)

Diya Jalakar aap buhjhaya – Badi Didi- (Noorjehan)

Wahan kaun hai tera musafir - Guide

Bulbulo mat ro yahan – Zeenat

Yeh safar – 1942 A Love Story

Jaago mohan pyare – Jaagte raho

Hazaar raahen mud ke dekhi – Thodisii Bewafai

Pardesi baalma badal aya - Rattan

Akele hain chale aao – Raaz

Mehbooba mehbooba – Sholay

Ab chahe maa roothe ya baba – Daag

Aake teri bahon mein -Vansh

Shokhiyon mein ghola jaye – Prem Pujari

Aaj Mere Jeene Ki Tamanna hai – Guide

O basanti pawan pagal – Jis desh mein ganga behti hai

Mere naina sawan bhadon – Mehbooba

So gaya yeh jahan – Tezaab

Dekh hamen awaaz na dena – Amer Deep

“ (2nd version)

Mohabbat Khuda hai – Love And God

Kuchh Na Kaho – 1942 A Love Story

Parde mein rehne do – Shikari

Inhi logon ne – Pakeezah

Jab kiya toh darna kya – Mughal e azam

Gaata rahe mera dil – Guide

Maine tere liye hi saat rang ke sapne chune – Anand

Chura liya hai tumne jo dil ko – Yaadon ki baarat

Tum bin jaoon kahan – (Shashi Kapoor / Mohd Rafi)

Chandan sa badan (male voice) – Saraswatichandra

“ (female voice) – Saraswatichandra

Barsaat mein – Barsaat

Zindagi pyar ka geet hai (female version) – Souten

Jai jai Shiv Shankar –Aap Ki Kasam

Dheere dheere machal – Anupama

Jaadugar sainya – Nagin

Chupke se dil de de nahin te – Maryada

Resham ki dori kahan jaiyo nindiya churake – Sajan

Paaon chhhoo lene do phoolon ko – Taj Mahal

Aankhon hi ankhon mein - CID

Tere ghar ke saamne – Tere ghar ke saamne

Hum bekhudi mein – Kala Pani

Ek ladki ko dekha – 1942 A Love Story

Duniya mein logon ko – Apna Desh

Rim jhim rim jhim – 1942 A Love Story

Geet gaata hoon main – Lal Patthar

Aap ke anurodh pe – Anurodh

Tera mera pyar amar – Asli Naqli

Aaja piya tohe pyar doon – Baharon Ke Sapne

Mora gora rang lai le – Bandini

O mere dil ke chain – Mere Jeevan Saathi

Dil todne wale tujhe dil dhoond raha hai – Son of India

Jab dil hi toot gaya – Shahjehan (1946)

O door ke musafir – Uran Khatola

Mera dil ye pukare aaja – Nagin

Aaj Himalaya ki choti se – Kismet

Yeh lal rang – Prem Nagar

Jab andhera hota hai – Raja Rani

Ruk jaa raat thehr ja re Chanda – Dil ek Mandir

Pyaar hua chuke se – 1942 A Love Story

Mere dil mein aaj kya hai – Daag

Chori chori koi aaye – Noorie

Do lafzon ki hai – The Great Gambler

Tum mile dil khile – Criminal

Tumhi mere mandir – Khandaan

Chanchal sheetal nirmal komal – Satyam Shivam Sundaram

Maine dekha hi ki phoolon se ladi - Waqt

Aaj mausam bada beimaan hai – Loafer

Bagad bam bam bam bam baje damru – Kathputli

Mohe panghat pe – Mughal e azam

Dhoondo dhoondo re sajna – Ganga Jumna (Contd)

0 notes

ulamafashionblog · 1 year

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Brother’s Wedding Dresses Ideas to Rock the Wedding in 2022

We can all agree that "a brother is a natural friend." When we hear the word "Brother," the first thing that comes to mind is the most annoying Human, but we know they will always have our back. Everyone talks about the bride, groom, and bridesmaid dresses, but no one talks about the bride's brother's wedding gown.

When it's your siblings' wedding, it's natural to be excited about what to wear. You recall every detail of your memories. All of the good times you had together as a kid. You had only joked about their wedding when you were younger, but now the big day has arrived.

We can find so many websites discussing sisters' wedding dresses and so few websites discussing brothers' wedding dresses, right? You need not be concerned; we are always available to assist you. Allow us to do what we do best: make you look fabulous and slay at your brother's or sister's wedding.

To make your job easier, we've divided the outfits into wedding functions. We will be there for you from beginning to end. Let us now proceed to the article, which we assure you will be worth reading.

Brother’s Wedding Dresses for Haldi Function

Haldi function, where yellow is the most dominant and widely worn colour. If you want to stick to the norm, Semi-Formal is the best way to show off your style. This classy and decent look will have you feeling Haldi and ready for the occasion.

Haldi is a ceremony that includes a petal shower in addition to colours. Wearing something floral will also enhance the ceremony. You can wear your Kurta over premium vests with a floral print Nehru jacket. It's airy, sophisticated, and evergreen. You can wear this outfit in any colour contrast between dark and light. Roll your sleeves up or leave them straight.

A floral closed straight neck kurta is also an excellent choice for the ceremony. This outfit will make you appear a little heavy, but it's your sibling's wedding. If you want to be trendy, go for it. You can accessorise it with stylish sunglasses and Mojdi footwear.

Brother’s Wedding Dresses for Sangeet Ceremony

These achkan Indo western gowns with symmetrical hems are ideal for your brother's wedding gown. This will give you a royal appearance. Accessorize with a brooch and a pair of formal shoes or Mojdi. You can wear this dress again to a friend's wedding because it will not go out of style anytime soon.

When it comes to formal attire, a printed or English colour blazer is an excellent choice. This outfit is decent, timeless, and adds to your overall look. Wear this ensemble with a watch and a tie or bow. This looks great with a watch and a classic belt.

Asymmetrical kurtas paired with dhotis are popular. On a starry night of sangeet ceremony, choose something bright that will make you look glamorous. We recommend styling this outfit with minimal accessories because it already gives you a heavy look.

Brother’s Wedding dresses for the Main Event Baarat

As Baarat is the most important function, now is the time to impress people with your appearance. Choose a heavy Chikinkari or self embroidery sherwani that is coordinated with a pant. As an accessory, wear a stylish pocket handkerchief. Choose beige colours for morning ceremonies and dark colours for evening ceremonies.

As we all know, everything looks better in black, and we feel more at ease wearing it, right? A Bandhgala Suit collection is the best option for your brother's and sister's wedding. It is both modern and traditional, and it is extremely simple to pull off. Whether the Baarat is in the morning or at night, you can wear any royal colour.

The kurta with chunni is a little more traditional, but it still gives the ceremony vibe. If the ceremony is intimate and simple, or if the theme calls for it, the Kurta pyjama with chunni will come in handy. Make a statement with your chunni and kurta pyjama or south Indian white lungi. Wear this look with a good watch and sunglasses. We think this outfit is best for a morning spring wedding.

Brother’s Wedding Dresses for Reception

There are very few options that can compete with Formal suits in terms of class, elegance, and royalty. Wear soothing tones to a daytime reception, and dark textured dresses to a nighttime reception. Accessorize with a tie and a pocket handkerchief or flowers. You will undoubtedly slay the wedding.

Want to look simple but smoking hot? Then a three-piece suit with a monotone shirt will give you a striking appearance. Colors such as onion, ice blue, rose pink, and olive are trendy and easy to wear. Accessorize your look with a tie, a chain brooch, and a classic watch.

Tired of traditional reception attire? Then we have a one-of-a-kind collection of turtleneck suits for you. Despite its light wear, it gives you a heavy appearance. Because this is a completely western look, keep your accessories to a minimum. And completes the look with a casual polished slip-on loafer.

There are numerous suit designs available. Visit below to learn more about outfits for the best men and brothers and find the best outfit to achieve the fabulous look.

Being a Groom's or Bride's brother is the epicentre of all excitement and fun. Show off your style with any of these designs to make a statement. We did our best to assist you in selecting the best outfits.

#Men's clothes #men's fashion #wedding #wedding outfits #ulama lungies #groom #fashion #Fashion Tips #traditional menswear

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rsmsilkproductsonline · 2 years

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Some types of Dhotis to Buy Online

Dhotis have been re-imagined in recent years, becoming more structured and beautiful. Originally a religious garment, they have become a staple of Indian fashion, worn in combination with kurtis and other ethnic pieces.

Off white dhoti

An Off white RSM silk dhoti can be an essential part of your Indian ethnic wardrobe. They are comfortable and fashionable, perfect for special occasions. The dhoti is a traditional Indian garment worn by men. It is typically fifteen feet long and is tied at the back. This versatile garment is often paired with a stylish t-shirt to complete the look.

The dhoti has a long and interesting history, dating back to the Indus Valley Civilization in India. While it may have taken a different form during the Bronze Age, the dhoti has remained a popular piece of menswear. The dhoti is a comfortable garment for most men. It can be made from a lightweight material, a medium-weight material, or a heavier material.

Kanchipuram pure silk dhoti

A Kanchipuram pure silk dhote is available in a variety of colours and styles. This dhoti is elegant and classy. It is handwoven and comes in different sizes and patterns. The pattu veshti gives the dhoti an exquisite look. The price of the dhoti depends on the weaver's rate.

A pure silk dhoti is the perfect attire for formal occasions. A red dhoti is usually worn for marriage because red is a sign of fertility and prosperity. Black is traditionally considered unlucky, so it is not a very popular choice. Green and yellow are good colours, while purple and grey represent royalty and wisdom.

Kanchipuram double dhoti

The RSM silk Kanchipuram double turban is one of the best-known garments from Kanchipuram, Tamil Nadu. This garment is the perfect combination of style and functionality, and makes a perfect addition to any wardrobe. It is a traditional Indian clothing item that is traditionally worn by men.

This garment has been worn for many centuries and was a common form of clothing in some areas. It was worn by men during the Indus Valley Civilization, and it may have developed into a different form during Bronze Age times. It is also extremely comfortable to wear, and many men wear it for a variety of different occasions. This garment comes in a variety of weights, and can be worn by men of any size.

Kanchipuram cotton dhoti

The RSM silk Kanchipuram cotton v-neck dhoti is an Indian dress made from pure Kanchipuram silk. This is a versatile outfit that can be worn for a variety of occasions and functions. It is a staple piece of indian attire, which was once the primary form of clothing. While silk dhotis have a very luxurious look and require careful maintenance, cotton dhotis are a great choice for everyday use and can look stylish at most events.

Dhotis are a traditional Indian garment, traditionally worn by men in the south. They can be worn in a variety of ways, including as a pant, skirt, single or kurta. Men often wear dhotis during festivals as part of their attire.

Saridhoti

If you're in search of a traditional Indian dress, a dhoti is a perfect choice. Traditionally, the dhoti is made of a long piece of cloth that is tied at the waist. Over time, this style has changed slightly to make it more comfortable for men. Today, you can buy dhoti online or buy ready-made men's dhotis. Dhotis are an excellent choice for summer, as they look great with capes, jackets, and chunnis. This style is also attractive to wear on special occasions. It's an unstitched sarong that is usually about fifteen feet long, and can be tied at the front or back.

Dhotis can also be worn as a stylish shirt. Many dhoti kurtas feature a gold border to add glamour and style to formal wear. These dhotis are available in a variety of styles, colours, and materials.

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kuttanjal123 · 2 years

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VEER/ABHAY

Namaste, main hoon Veer Singh. (Greetings, I'm Veer Singh). I'm twelve, and I'm a Punjabi. I was born in September. My family primarily hailed from Amritsar, but my ancestors migrated to New Delhi over time due to the Partition of Punjab back in 1947. There's a common misconception on whether we can speak Hindi or not. Well, there are Punjabi Hindus and Punjabi Sikhs. The Sikhs can speak Punjabi fluently, but the Hindus primarily speak Hindi, although they come from the same heritage and background. I belong to the latter.

"Pagri" (turban). This gave us an identity, and it was one of the rules we had to follow according to our religion. My relatives sometimes say things to me in Punjabi, and I can't understand a word of it. I've become more immune to speaking and understanding Hindi. I have black hair, doe eyes, and I wear a "kara" (traditional Sikh bangle) which indicates utmost devotion and sincerity to God. Indian families are known for celebrations, singing, and dancing. It's always a colorful and vibrant occasion. Wouldn't want to miss it if you travel down here.

Our food variety is endless, and once we start, it will take a long time to finish. Kids are lovingly referred to as "Puttar." My father was the eldest son. I called him "Papaji," my uncles "chachaji"and aunts"chachiji."

Gagan chachaji and Rano chachiji were the parents of Baani, Gunjan, and Preet, my cousin sisters. Mohi chachaji and Lajjo chachiji were the parents of Jeet, Balwant, and Yuvraj, my cousin brothers. Bhagatveer Singh was our grandfather, who we lovingly called "Darjee."

I suppose the real fun started when we were at the table. It was a pretty sight to see my aunts and mother trying to get all us kids to eat well .... Although Arjun, my older brother, found it a bit overwhelming.

"You didn't even start eating?! Have parathas (Indian bread) and take some paneer (cottage cheese) with that. Don't you have to build your body?" they asked as they loaded his plate.

"I will eat what I want! Please!" he pleaded with folded hands.

To be honest, I love eating everything served at the table. You could describe me as a bottomless pit. I guess I take after my dad and uncles. Couldn't understand why Arjun was quite fussy. He is the eldest child. I call him and my older cousin brothers "bhaiyya."

We are polar opposites. Arjun is trying out to make it to the Delhi Cricket Team. I love playing cricket as much as watching it on TV. It's quite a sight when all the men gather in our house ground and play. Arjun always planned the setup for each match. I always found cricket the most exciting sport even though hockey was the national sport in India because the rules were simple. But that didn't mean a bit of cheating was encouraged ... and so was rule-bending. Now, this happened when Arjun appealed for LBWs (cricket lingo).

"Darjee! You are supporting Jeet?! I'm appealing, and you're easily rejecting it? This is wrong," he said, shaking his head.

"No, Arjun, I'm being honest," he said.

But as Arjun turned, he winked at me. "Papaji, Mohi, and Gagan chachaji, you've become old," said Arjun, frustrated.

"Son, just watch. I will field so well that Jeet or Balwant will get out, just like that," Gagan chachaji said, snapping his finger.

After ten balls, eventually, Jeet did get out. Looks like chachaji had kept up his word.

"Did you see that? ... Once we promise something, we will make sure it happens. Now, will you accept? I want to eat. I'm hungry!" he said, rubbing his tummy.

Like Indians in general, Punjabis are known for their food, hospitality, and welcoming nature. A Punjabi will never deny assistance to anyone, even a stranger. The husbands are demanding of their wives, who are busy doing household chores the entire time and are ordered not to speak much. Punjabi women drape the traditional scarves around their heads. They are known as "duppattas and chunnis."A lot of kids referred to their Moms as Mummyji. I didn't. For me, it was simple: "Ma."

"Did you see how I fielded and played?" I asked as I sat beside her.

"Yes, yes, you field very well." She nodded and patted me.

"Then why doesn't Arjun praise me?" I asked sadly.

"Forget what he says," said Ma shaking her head. "I know you, my little Veer."

"Veer, after a few years, we will get you ready to play cricket just like Arjun," Papaji said as he looked into the mirror, wrapping his pagri around his head.

He had long hair, but I never got to see it since it was tied beneath the pagri.

"Yes, Papaji."

Papaji, Gagan, and Mohi chachaji were known as "Sardars" who referred to each other affectionately as "Veer Ji." (Veer is a name and also used to address "brother" in Punjabi). They loved their thick mustaches and manly beards. Although we all ate dinner together, the men had their quota of fun and drinking. One night, I heard them laughing and babbling as usual. If there is something a Punjabi can't live without, it's alcohol.

"Diljit, do you remember when we went hunting, how fun it was?" asked Mohi chachaji.

"I got off the horse and quietly hid behind the tree. The lion was right there. After that, I lifted the gun like this," he said as he gestured. "I fired the gun, and the lion ran away."

Papaji laughed.

"Yes, I was there too," said Gagan chachaji.

"You were, but after listening to the gun go off, you fell off the horse!" laughed Papaji and Mohi chachaji.

"Hey, give me a peg of alcohol," asked Papaji.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine ... now just stop with it already," said Gagan chachaji.

I couldn't understand their sense of humor, but OK, whatever made them happy.

"Did you ever think what happened to brother Baldev?" asked Gagan chachaji.

"Chhup!" (Silence) shouted Papaji. "Remember, we promised that we would never take his name in this house?" he said.

"But do you ever think about where he is and what he's doing?" asked Gagan chachaji.

"Yes, maybe," said Mohi chachaji and Papaji.

I ran back into the room since I didn't want anyone to know I had eavesdropped. I was curious and didn't think twice that I could be landing into serious trouble. After all, the youngest kid in the house is known for doing that.

The girls loved to whisper and giggle at the table. It was always some girl talk that neither the boys nor I could ever understand. If the elders scolded us boys, they would laugh. I guess they enjoyed seeing us in trouble. In a Punjabi household, it's too late for you to decide what you'd like to eat. Your plate is already loaded and given to you. You have to just eat. Try to bargain but trust me, it's a battle you don't want to fight. I thought I could take a chance with Darjee regarding what I heard since I was his favorite grandchild.

"Darjee, can I ask you something?" I said.

"Yes, tell me," he said as he ate.

"My friend's name is Baldev." I paused.

As I looked at him, he began coughing.

"Veer! You don't know what to ask when!" scolded Rano chachiji, before giving him a glass of water.

"No problem, why do you ask?" he said as he drank water and patted his mouth dry with the table cloth.

"I like that name very much. Why did you name me Veer?"

"Veer is a nice name," he said.

"Baldev is a good name too, right?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Then what happened to Baldev chachaji?"

There was stunned silence at the table. Everyone looked at me in shock, especially Darjee. He had never been so stern as he was now. Ma grabbed my arm and marched me upstairs. She began hitting me on the way to the room. I was scolded.

"You will not take that name in this house, got it?!" she yelled, dragging me inside the room.

"But why? Who is he?"

She shook her head and sat down next to me.

"He is your other uncle. But he left this family and went away."

"What happened?"

She took a deep breath.

"Look, whatever I'm telling you, listen carefully. After that, you will not ask questions. Understood?"

I nodded.

"Your dad had three brothers. His youngest brother left this house because he didn't adopt the rules and customs of this family. Darjee said that all his kids would live in this house together. No one would go outside Delhi or India. But Baldev chachaji wanted to go outside the country and explore this world. And when he expressed this desire, Darjee expelled him from this house and severed ties with him."

"So easily?"

"Yes," she said, standing up. "Remember one thing. Our honor, name, respect, and dignity are everything in our family. If we break this, then our life can be taken. Beware, we will not speak about this."

I nodded in silence.

There was not much talking in the house for the next few days. I, for one, stayed a lot in my room, which Arjun and I shared. Our school was big where all the kids would go and study. Arjun was twenty years old. Our age gap was eight years. The other boys were between the age range of fifteen and seventeen. So were the girls. All of them were very studious, except me. I would always get scolded in class. Hinglish was the language spoken at school. Yup, you guessed it right, a mix of Hindi and English.

"Veer! Eyes on the board!" snapped Ms. Ahluwalia, my class teacher. "You're always looking outside the window. Turn to page 45 and read the first paragraph."

"Yes, miss!" I replied.

I swiftly searched through my school bag, but I hadn't brought it. I had not even taken out my book yet as I looked at the table. I guess I forgot to put the books in my bag according to the schedule for the next day.

"I think I didn't bring it," I said as I scratched my head.

"Didn't bring it? Leave my class right now!" she said, pointing her hand outside.

"But Bunty will share his book with me. Chalega na?" (That'll work, right?)

"Don't try to act smart with me. Out! Right now!" she yelled.

This wasn't unusual. I always did stand outside the class at least once a day. It was either because I forgot my book, talked too much, or didn't do my homework.

"Why do you always do this? You know you could be hit for this at home, right?" asked Bunty.

"Don't worry, this happens at home all the time," I assured.

Personally, I didn't like any subjects at school. I wished to become a chef. According to the people in my house, it was a feminine thing to do, and it was never encouraged in our family. Women cooked, men ate and did all the work. Papaji, Mohi, and Gagan chachaji spent their time hunting, plowing the fields and loved farming.

The haveli (mansion) was where generations of our family lived. The only happy time was when it came to eating food since we just ate and there was no discussion about work or school. We just had fun and cracked jokes. This spread was to die for. There was paneer masala, parathas, rajma chawal, butter chicken, dal makhani, and the great lassi to top it all. But unfortunately, I couldn't enjoy it. Ma had an announcement to make at the table.

"Veer, you aren't paying attention in school. I've only been hearing complaints. But did you observe how all the others are studying at home?"

"Yes," I sulked.

"So I have decided that Gunjan, Baani, and Preet will teach you. Jeet, Balwant, and Yuvraj don't have time because they have a lot to study. Understood?"

My cousins left to get everything ready, and now I was under pressure to eat fast. I sighed after finishing, got my books, and went to the study room.

"Baito!" (sit) they said together.

Although I had great respect and fondness for my sisters, I didn't appreciate being bossed around or teased. And they did that a lot. I guess that's one of the perks of being the youngest in the family.I yawned after a while and asked them a question that baffled them.

I called them "Didi" which is used to refer to elder sister affectionately.

"Di, did you ever think that you wanted to become a chef?" I asked.

"WHAT?!" they all said at the same time.

"No, really! Our moms make such great food. If we learn from them, then there's no reason to study, right?"

They looked at each other in shock.

"No one can make money from cooking food," said Gunjan.

"Food can be made by anyone," said Baani.

"And even if you get a job, very easily you can be replaced," said Preet.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I mean, in this world, there are so many people who can cook food. Better than you, and even they aren't employed anywhere. What will you show people differently?" asked Gunjan.

"I know I'm small, but in a few years, I can also become like Arjun bhaiyya and follow my passion," I said.

"Focus on studying. We will look into what to become and what to not become later. But if you want to pass in school, then you have to do this," said Baani.

My favorite sweet was gulab jamun. I especially loved it when it was made by Ma.

"When you make it, can I help you?" I asked as my eyes lit up.

"No, Veer—"

"Please? Please?"

"But the recipe requires the use of hot oil, and your hands can get burnt," she said, shaking her head as she adjusted her shawl.

"Give me the easy part. And what is hard, I will watch, that's it," I said smiling.

Then came the most awaited day, and after I'd successfully helped in making it, I couldn't wait to tell all the elders. But Ma grabbed my arm before I ran to the table.

"They can't know. You wanted to learn, I showed you. Now keep quiet," she said in a serious tone.

"Okay," I said with my head down.

Everyone enjoyed the gulab jamun. But I couldn't get any praise for what I did simply because cooking was a profession that was looked down upon. There were so many successful chefs from India representing India wherever they went. Why couldn't I be accepted and encouraged for my passion? I headed to my room to sleep post-dinner.

"Arjun bhaiyya," I said, sitting on the bed.

"Yes, tell me," he said as he changed his shirt.

"Do you think that I'm fat?"

He walked over and sat next to me on the bed.

"Not at all. You're fine. And if people say that, then don't listen to them. With time, you will also play cricket and lose weight. Don't worry."

"Do you really want to be a cricketer?"

"Yes, I would feel great. It's my passion."

"But don't you think there will be a lot of competition in cricket?"

"Yes, of course, but that doesn't mean I will accept defeat and sit down. I have to fight. Maybe victory will come days later or very soon. But it will happen. I'm confident of it."

"Do you think of Uncle Baldev?"

"Sometimes. Why ask?"

"If ... in your life such a phase approaches, what will you do?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, if you break the rules of this house and family, knowingly or unknowingly, will you be prepared to face the consequences?"

"Yes, maybe," he said, looking at me.

"Even if the punishment is death?"

Arjun looked at me, shocked.

"Who told you all this?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"I was just asking ... randomly," I said as I looked down.

"If you want something from the bottom of your heart and you don't get it, but your heart tells you and also knows that you didn't commit a crime, what's the need to get scared? I don't want to be a coward. I will face the truth. And the same thing about death, if it's meant to happen, I don't fear death."

He turned off the lights, and we went to bed.

We had a significant age gap, but he was a great brother. The next day, I heard him and Ma arguing in the room.

"You will not do that! You know what could happen, right? You are putting our reputation at stake!" shouted Ma.

"It doesn't matter to me," he said calmly.

"But it does to me! You're my son!"

"Arjun! Come down!" called Papaji from downstairs.

"This is my decision now, whether you like it or not," said Arjun.

Before he stepped out, I hid inside our room. What were they talking about? And why was Ma crying? I went to her room to ask her what had happened, but I didn't want to risk getting in trouble again. I let it roll off my back, thinking she was exaggerating. Because I bugged him, Arjun took me out with him to hang out with his friends on his days off.

I wanted to see other people besides family. But this time, it wasn't normal. He chose a secluded spot and told me to sit inside the car. He gave me his phone, so I could play games on it, but after a point I got bored. I noticed a girl talking to him through the rearview mirror. They were laughing and smiling at each other as they conversed joyfully. They hugged, and Arjun kissed her on the cheek near the end of the conversation. I witnessed all of this, but as he sat in the car, I pretended I didn't notice anything and continued looking at the phone.

He talked to me as if nothing had happened. But ... I was curious and couldn't help but ask. "Who is that girl?"

"Who? Which girl? Nobody." He shrugged.

After a prolonged silence, I couldn't hold back longer. "I saw everything," I said softly.

The remainder of the ride back home was silent. It was strange because Arjun never had any friends who were girls and usually had his boy gang with whom he had the most fun. But I being the annoying, nosy kid I was, wouldn't stop pestering him, and out of anger, he slapped me. I began crying and didn't say anything even when Ma asked me what had happened.

"He wanted to eat ice cream. And I refused. He made a fuss, so I slapped him on his cheeks," said Arjun, glaring at me as I wiped my tears.

"Veer! You know that ice cream from the streets can spoil your health, right? Why don't you ever listen?!" said Ma, applying ice on my cheeks and then hugging me.

Without saying anything further, he just walked away. I wasn't scared of Arjun, but I felt that he had hurt me. He and I used to get into arguments. Luckily it never turned violent. I respected him.

One day all the cousins wanted to play a game.

"Oye, Veer. Get the cards," said Jeet.

"But I don't know where they are," I said as I rolled my eyes.

"Yes! I remember! They're in the almirah of your room," said Yuvraj.

"OK, I'll bring it. But you will teach me how to play, right?"

"Yes, yes," said Balwant.

I went into our room. Arjun usually locked the door of his almirah before heading out, or even if he was at home. But surprisingly, it was unlocked. As I began searching for the cards ... out popped a diary.

Pages and pages of entries daily. Looking around to make sure no one had seen me, I quickly browsed through and realized it was Arjun's. I swiftly put it back, closed the almirah, took out the cards, and left the room.

"Here, take it," I said as I handed it over to them.

Although we played cards, I wasn't able to focus. I was bothered and in deep thought about the purpose of Arjun's diary. After playing, I headed to the room and pondered about the diary. Arjun was back, reading a newspaper and playing on his phone.

After explaining why I'd opened the almirah in his absence, there was an uneasy look on his face, and he certainly appeared to be hiding something. He awkwardly excused himself.

My hunch was clarified when he came back.

"Today onwards, you will not open this almirah without my permission."

I had to somehow get hold of the diary and read what was in there. I was curious and couldn't help but figure out why he was hiding something. I was sad because my mind told me not to. My heart wouldn't listen to me. The almirah had a code that was required to unlock it. A few days later, I secretly hid under the bed to see his code to open it. I got it! It was 7346. Arjun had to head out of the house for a couple of days to train. Since I knew he wouldn't be home, I took the chance. I quietly unlocked the almirah in the night with the flashlight under the pillow and began reading.

What I assumed to be daily entries of normal activities turned out to be entries of secret meetings, love quotes, love letters, and pictures of a girl named "Simran." I snapped the diary shut and dropped it as my hands quivered. I was dumbfounded.

Papaji had begun to seek out a perfect bride for Arjun, who was the combination of being from a reputed family and following the same morals and values.

As we reached the girl's house, we were greeted with open arms.

"I am Baljeet. This is Karamjeet my wife, my kudi Mahi," said the man.

Kudi meant girl in Punjabi.

After introducing the whole family, I could see Papaji proudly put his arm around my brother with great pride.

"This is my munda (boy), Arjun."

But instead of expressing much enthusiasm, Arjun hung his head down, finding reasons to look around and avoided eye contact. It wasn't until Papaji nudged him a bit further that he managed to fake a smile.

Mahi served all of us something to eat on a tray. This was a custom common in other Indian cultures as well. The families interacted for a while, but I observed Arjun very closely. He was the least interested, trying to distract himself by looking at his phone the entire time, even when Mahi tried to make conversation.

Rishta" (relation) had been fixed. Papaji had given the bride's father his word, and abiding by that promise was more precious than his son's true happiness. It was the weekend, and Arjun had left town for cricket practice. In the spur of the moment, Ma called me to the kitchen for something, and I placed Arjun's diary under the pillow I slept on. It was a mistake I would regret no matter how much I wish I could try to take it back. Papaji was searching for a flashlight, and Arjun had mentioned earlier that it was under my pillow.

By the time Arjun reached home, everyone was well aware of what had happened.

"What is this?!" screamed Papaji holding up the diary.

"Yeah, I love Simran," Arjun said calmly.

"You had an affair with another girl inside our own house?! What did you think?! We'll let you marry her?! Didn't you even think about where she comes from?! Look at our societal status and nobility. Woh Kuttiya." (That bitch.)

"Papaji! Watch your tongue!" screamed Arjun.

Papaji slapped him.

"You only think about your societal status, reputation, and family name. You don't have feelings. Baldev chachaji must've gotten tired of listening to this all the time! That's why he left this house! He didn't want to spoil his life."

"OY!" Papaji screamed, lunging to hit him.

"Enough is enough. From this moment on, this boy has no relationship with this family," said Darjee.

The others were shocked, but I wasn't since I knew the truth and had given Arjun away. Darjee's say was the final decision. I began crying, begging others to forgive Arjun and punish me. I could hear Arjun marching upstairs, getting ready to pack all his belongings, preparing to leave.

"I will only marry Simran, and if you all reject her, I will leave this house, and we will still make our life together!" he stated before he left the house.

As he left, I continued to plead not to punish Arjun. But Papaji was so angry he didn't listen. He managed to convince Arjun to get back home, and he believed with time Arjun would understand, and he would coax him into getting married to Mahi. The next day, as it was darkening, I heard Arjun call Simran, and though I pretended to be asleep, I heard him whisper.

"You know what to do, right?"

He was gone. I lurked in the dark right behind and saw him leave the house. Papaji woke up sometime later, dressed, and shortly before he headed out to the car, I could hear Ma weeping in the room. Quickly, I ran down and hid in the trunk of the vehicle. Inside climbed my uncles and headed out in search of Arjun.

"It's reached the limit! We can't let this happen!" I could hear Papaji scream.

"But brother," I heard my uncles say softly. "He is your son."

"I know ... but I have to do this."

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