I was so sad that Nam-Gyu died thinking he needed pills to survive these games 😢
He was smart, he could have gone further or even won, if he trusted his capabilities & himself a bit more, the fact is he didn't even need those pills to survive the Rope Bridge game, he needed to believe in himself more than anything 🔥
Since falling from great heights scared him (probably his phobia), he decided to jump on 4 limbs, firstly to maintain balance, since he gets shaky hands and legs when he gets scared & secondly he crouched so that he doesn't get to see the height beneath while jumping (he was smart and he proved that throughout in season 2-3) so despite being scared, just to get to the pill case thrown in the middle (because he thought he needed pills to survive) he desperately jumped to get till the case 🥺
But when he opened the pill case to take a pill while jumping & found it empty, he lost all hope, probably felt cheated for losing his pills & thought himself to be a stupid loser for not only feeling scared & weak without pills but also for thinking that Minsu was powerless & less capable than him, he felt utterly shocked at how things had turned out & his mind and body immediately gave up because of these overwhelming thoughts, he froze feeling he was incapable of doing anything anymore 💔
By the time the rope swung again, he was stuck in these thoughts, & was pushed down by the metal rope leading to his fall 😢💔
His death made me so emotional, it was heart breaking to see such a smart and intelligent guy like Nam-Gyu die thinking that he needed some pills to survive and tie his self worth to it, and in the end fall into a trap set by someone who he thought was inferior than him 😢💔
Everyone Believe in your potential, never underestimate others, have faith in yourself, that will make you Win in the game of Life! ❤💯
Will miss our boy Nam-Gyu, he became my favourite in Squid Game Season 3. Loved Roh Jaewon, he was so amazing as our Nam-Gyu 😘❤❤🔥🔥
Synopsis: Y/n and Bhallaladeva have been married for three months, but after their wedding ceremony came to an end, Y/n hasn't seen him or heard of him since. It's not like she's his first wife she likely won't be his last- is what she thinks. But when Bhallaladeva sends a servant to summon Y/n to his quarters late one night, Y/n hopes to fulfil their unstarted martial duties, instead, Bhalla requests that Y/n do something else for him. Something Y/n never expected to hear from the ruthless king of Mahismati. 《Pt. 2, 2.4k Words》
Note: There will probably be maybe two more parts to this story lol. This is the Y/n version of this fic. If you would like to read the OC version, it will be available on my OC masterlist page! ALSO, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 》 By interacting with my works or posts, you agree to be exposed to my content and are confirming that you are willingly reading my writing!!
She stepped inside and gulped. His room was kind of how she imagined it. It was wide, grand, open and nothing like hers. Y/n’s room was grand too, of course, being one of the wives of the king, but compared to the king’s room, it felt like a children's play area.
Y/n stepped forward, examining every inch of the room, her anklets making music with every step she took. But the most important question lay unanswered. Where was Bhalla? The main reason Y/n traveled halfway across the palace at one in the morning for?
Y/n crossed her arms behind her and looked around, admiring the portraits and the statues. They were portraits of him, one of his mother, and of previous kings. But none of his brother or any of his wives.
But one particular portrait caught her eyes. Or rather, the fact that it was covered up with a massive velvet cloth.
What was Bhalla hiding under there?
Y/n stepped towards the portrait, her anklets notifying every other living thing nearby of her movement but right as she reached for the velvet cloth, the sound of a voice made her stomach drop.
“Here.” Said low, breathy voice. Y/n flinched, instantly drawing her hand away from the covered portrait and span around to face the source of the voice. What she saw made Y/n’s heart jump and her stomach summersault.
On his mighty grand bed, lay Bhalladeva.
The king.
The warrior.
The ruler.
Her husband.
Like his voice, Bhallaladeva was breathing heavily and fast, reaching an arm out for Y/n who was unsure of what to do.
Upon stepping closer to him, Y/n began getting worried. Bhalla’s face was covered in tiny droplets of sweat, his breathing was heavy and his chest rose and fell at an alarming rate.
Y/n gasped at the helpless form of the king and brought her hands to her lips.
“Your- Your Majesty-!” Y/n began, unsure of what to call him. Y/n’s use of ‘Your Majesty caused a tiny flinch to escape Bhalla’s body.
Should she acknowledge their marriage and the sacred thread tied around her neck by Bhalla and call him ‘Bhalla’?
Or was was more fitting to call him ‘Bhallaladeva’ to please his massive ego and not seem overly friendly?
Or was she supposed to be his quiet submissive wife and refer to him as his majesty?
Y/n gulped and quickly looked around while Bhalla continued breathing rapidly in a feverish way.
“Don’t- Don’t worry Your Majesty! I’ll-” With the way Bhalla flinched as she called him ‘Your Majesty’, Y/n was internally face-palming herself. Y/n hated how she kept stumbling over her words.
Way to make a great first impression, she thought as she slowly began panicking.
Y/n noticed how Bhalla could barely keep his eyes open as they kept drooping and he struggled to breath normally.
“I’ll call a healer-!” Just as Y/n turned around to sprint away to fetch a healer, Bhalla’s voice stopped her yet once again.
“No-!” He said. Y/n couldn’t tell if he was shouting or simply in pain because the moment she turned around, she saw him painfully clutching his heart while he winced in pain.
“But-”
“No. I don’t need a physician right now.” Bhalla said, his pain starting to worsen as he raked his fingers through his dark curly locks. Y/n gulped, unconvinced but not willing to disobey his Majesty’s orders.
“Then… Why was I summoned here, Your majesty?”
Bhalla pat the empty space next to him on the bed, confusing Y/n.
What did he want her to do? Clean the bed sheets? Dust it? Was the dust causing him to go all haywire like this?
Y/n, still confused, awkwardly moved towards the king and bent down. She looked at the king, who looked back at her before she looked down at the spot when he was patting.
Y/n began patting and sweeping aswell with her hand, brushing the non-existenct specks of dust off the edge of the bed, confidently.
When she finished, she looked at the king, hoping to see an impressed face at her brillinat cleaning abilities, only to be met with a confused look from the king.
“What’re you doing?” Bhalla croaked out.
“I was dusting.” Y/n replied, impressively. Bhalla’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
“...Why?” Bhalla said, after a slow moment of consideration, seemingly forgetting his pain in the confusion.
“Because… Well, because Your Majesty-” Bhalla flinched ever so slightly as Y/n referred to him as ‘Your Majesty’, “-asked me to.” Y/n said, in a matter-of-fact tone, leaving Bhalla speechless. Bhalla’s lack of words left Y/n worried out of her mind.
Had she not cleaned enough? Or did she do it wrong?
Y/n was practically losing her mind over what Bhalla would do to her if she acted incorrectly.
Would he kill her? Posion her? Torutre her? Publically behead her?
Thoughts like those ran through Y/n’s mind and each thought was more treacherous than the one before. In the flurry of worry, Y/n stood up suddenly, knocking over a golden water goblet in the process and panicked further at the noise it made.
Bhalla was undisturbed by the goblet, he genuinely couldn’t care less about it. Instead, his energy was taken upp by a small smile gracing his lips at Y/n’s antics. The sound og the falling goblet masked the tiny chuckle that escaped Bhalla’s lips.
Suddenly, as if catching himself in a horrid act, Bhalla quickly wiped his smile right off, and replaced it with a simple calm face.
Y/n looked at the fallen ghoblet and back at Bhalla, misreading his calmness for anger.
“M-Maybe it would be best if I fetched a physician and left Your Majesty alone-” Y/n kept stumbling over her words, her voice clearly laced with tension and fear, and when she turned around suddenly, Bhalla’s voice stopped her once more.
“No.” He didn’t shout this time, he was calm as if suppressing his quick breath and his heavy voice. As if he was actually trying to be soft with her. As if she was a fragile little bird that he didn’t want to harm.
Y/n stopped and looked over at him, he was patting the empty spot next to him again.
“I meant stay with me,” He said, and under his moustach, Y/n failed to spot the tiniest and almost invisible smile curling at the corner of his lips, “Not- Not dust the bed,”
“Ohhh,” Y/n said, nodding her head slowly in understanding. She slowly and cautiously advanding towards the king and carefully sat next to his flat body.
“Stay with me.” Bhalla said, softly, allowing himself to close his eyes and he turned his head to feel Y/n’s touch through the fabric of her voni. “Just for a while…”
Y/n stiffened, having never expected something like this from the king. Bhalla’s voice made Y/n think it almost sounded like love, but she shook the thought off quickly. She remembered the words of the other wives.
Bhalla is incapable of love. Giving it or receiving it.
This wasn’t love, Y/n told herself, when another question popped up.
What happened to the king?
And another one.
Why did he need her to stay with him?
And another one, the one Y/n was most curious about.
Why her?
The answer to that question seemed simple. He wanted to see his latest wife, so he could cross it off on his to-do list and not bother about her ever again till her funeral. That was the only possible reason… Right?
Something in the back of Y/n’s mind told her that it wasn’t. Her curiosity getting a hold of her, Y/n gulped and let her first question out.
“Are- Are you okay?” Y/n mentally face-palmed at the way this question was phrased.
It seemed too formal and yet informal at the same time. How was that even possible!?
“Now I am,” Bhalla said, his voice musch less breathy like before, his chest raising and falling at a normal pace rather than rapidly like before. “Stay with me.” Bhalla’s soft voice and calm demenor, contrary to his previous aura, surprised Y/n.
It took her a few minutes to realise she was there to calm Bhalla down, but she was unsure how. She could just sit there like he said, till he fell asleep, but no.
Y/n could tell that Bhalla was still agitated, sure not as much as he was when she walked in, but he was still breathing pretty heavy and sweating like crazy.
Y/n looked around the room to see if there was anything she could use to help Bhalla and with each little thing she saw, the easier this task became. Now came time for execution.
Y/n looked down at her soft voni and without a second thought, ripped a large piece off.
She picked up the fallen goblet, filled it with water from the vase on the bed side table and dipped the ripped section of the voni into the water.
She gave it a good dunk, pulled it out and squeed the excess water out before she folded it up neatly and looked over at Bhalla. With a gulp and hesitant shaky hands, she wiped the sweat off his face with the cloth.
Bhalla practically melted into Y/n’s voni as he let out a sigh of relief as the cold water caressed his skin. Y/n gave the voni another dunk, squeezed it one more time and wiped only the top of Bhalla’s chest before she gave it one last dunk, squeezed and folded it and placed it on his forehead.
Carefully lifting herself off the bed, Y/n sprinted towards the nearest widow and with a great push, she opened it, letting the cool breeze open to cool Bhalla down. The rust on the windows told her that they hadn’t been opened in a long time.
Y/n ran back to Bhalla, who had stopped sweating but was still squirming around in unease. Y/n looked around to see if there was anything she could do to stop that and put an end to his uneasiness, till she came to a conclusion that there was only one thing she could do.
Show him a motherly kind of love.
Sure, Y/n was told that Bhalla couldn’t feel love, or so she thought, but it was worth a try. She sat back down, and after careful consideration, ran her fingers through Bhalla’s raven dark locks until she had a hold of his head. She scooped his head up and placed it on her lap.
Bhalla opened his eyes slightly to see what Y/n was doing, but when he heard her voice the very next second, he closed his eyes. Y/n closed her eyes and started humming a tune.
A tune that her mother sang to her as a kis. A tune that every mother likely sang to their kids. Y/n brushed Bhalla’s hair back and off his faceand remembered a lullaby.
“Lali, Lali, Lali Lali.” Y/n began, her nervous voice nowhere in sight, now replaced by a soft sing-song voice, “Vatapatrasayiki Varahala lali,” Bhalla closed his eyes fully now, his chest’s constantly movement slowling down with every word Y/n sang. “Rajivanetruniki ratanala lali.” Bhalla’s previously tense body softened down instantly like hard butter melting in the hot sun. “Lali, Lali, Lali, Lali,” Y/n carresed the side of Bhalla’s face as she sang the lullaby, his conciousness slowly drifting away with every verse she sang as he eventually returned to a peaceful slumber.
When Bhalla had fully gone back to sleep, Y/n carefully picked his head up, dragged over a pillow and gently placed him down. She saw his silk sheets flayed all over the bed and pulled them up before tucking him in as if he was just an innocnet little child, rather than the feared, ruthless leader of Mahismati.
When Bhalla was tucked in and peacefully sleeping away, Y/n looked down at his features and wondered what she was supposed to do now? Kiss him on the forehead and leave?
Maybe it was a bit too soon, she thought, considering this was the first time they even spoke to each other. But then again, she thought, she was his wife, and as a wife, kissing isn’t something to be neglected.
Impulsively, Y/n bent her head down and pecked Bhalla on the forehead before bringing her nails to her lips in shyness and spriting out of the room. Even if Bhalla was not fond of kisses, he wouldn’t know, he was asleep, Y/n told herself.
She carefully shut the doors to the room close to not wake him up and trotted off to her very own room, practically prancing, dancing, and skipping as she went, her excitement lighting up the cold dark hallways.
When Bhalla heard the doors to his room close shut, she slowly peeled his eyes open and looked up at the ceiling. Despite the windows being open and Y/n’s damp voni on his forehead, Bhalla’s face burnt like fire as he grazed his finger over the spot Y/n had kissed him.
Y/n hummed the tune of the lullaby to herself as she skipped through the hallways, her stomach unable to stay at ease with the butterflies eurpting through them.
Today was a good day, she thought, a productive one. She had talked to the king- or rather, her husband, for the first time. She sang him a lullaby and tucked him into bed.
Sometimes the simplest answers give the most effective results.
She even figured out what she would need to do from now one if she was ever called back.
Take his head into her lap, sing to him, calm him down and tuck him into bed.
Simple.
Though it seemed very unlikely that she would ever be called back.
But the voices of the other wives came into Y/n’s mind. The king never spoke to any of his wives unless it’s extremely important. He has no business with them and even if he does, he always only sends a servant.
This thought caused Y/n to stop and think.
True.
Why did the king need her if he never talked to his wives?
This unanswered questions left Y/n thinking about all the other unanswered questions.
Such as why was he the way he was when Y/n first entered the room?
Was it a medical condition?
Or was it the result of traumatic events in his past?
And if so, what exactly was that traumatic past?
Why did Bhalla need someone her to calm him down?
Why not one of his more experienced wives who knew more about him than she did?
And the most curious.
What lay behind the velvet cloth?
What was it a portrait of?
Or rather, who was it of?
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 》 @vijayasena
Please reply to this post if you wish to be tagged in my future works, fics, and the next part to this story! :)
Something that I’ve always appreciated, but didn’t appreciate fully until I picked up art again myself- is Rapunzel’s art style.
Rapunzel is an artist. It’s a big part of her character. She grew up passing time by painting on her walls. While it’s not the central focus of her character, it is a very important part of her. Without paint, she’s not our Rapunzel.
So you would assume the artists would make her this amazing realistic painter, like most “great and experienced” artists. But she’s not. She has a signature style that’s very unique to her. It’s cartoonish. It’s soft. It’s not very detailed, but it is very fluid and expressive. She often includes nature motifs like vines and birds. Everything is composed and fits well together. Her art is beautiful to look at.
I love that Tangled and Tangled The Series gave Rapunzel a unique art style that is specific and fitting to her. And it shows that you can be a great artist without having to make art that is realistic.
Eugene Fitzherbert in Tangled (2010)
Brock Thunderstrike in Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure S3E15 “Flynnpostor” (2020)
[Gif descriptions: Gif 1: Eugene’s eyes opening. He screams disgustedly as Pascal has his tongue in his ear. Pascal retracts his tongue and jumps away and Eugene wipes his ear on his shoulder. Gif 2: Eugene realizing he is tied using hair and saying: Is this hair? as the camera pans over Rapunzel’s long hair. Gif 3: Eugene smirking and saying: Hi. How you doin’? The name’s Flynn Rider. Gif 4: Eugene holding a frying pan and saying: Oh, mama, I have got to get me one of these! Gif 5: Eugene and Rapunzel together in a cave and Eugene saying: My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. Someone might as well know. Gif 6: Brock’s eyes opening. He screams disgustedly as Pascal has his tongue in his ear. Pascal retracts his tongue and jumps away and Brock wipes his ear on his shoulder. Gif 7: Brock realizing he is tied using hair and saying: Is this hair? as the camera pans over Rapunzel’s long hair. Gif 8: Brock smirking and saying: Hi. The name’s Flynn Rider. Gif 9: Brock holding a frying pan and saying: Oh, mama, I have got to get me one of these! Gif 10: Brock and Eugene together in a cave and Brock saying: Without it, I’m nobody. Just boring, old Brock Thunderstrike.]
