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[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 16

Beneath The Surface

If I told you what I was

Would you turn your back on me?

And if I seem dangerous

Would you be scared?

- ( The song of this chapter is 'Monster' by Imagine Dragons)

18 years ago

Arnav was born in Chicago. He spent the first twelve years of his life there, surrounded by relatively normal people, living a relatively normal life, before stepping foot in this country two years ago. The transition was a jarring experience. Adapting to the food, language, and traditions felt like stepping into a whole new world. On top of that, the gruelling physical training imposed on him made it all the more challenging.

He had grown up blissfully unaware of his father's ties to the mafia. He wished her mother prepared him well enough before thrusting him into this completely new world.

Blindsided and unprepared.

They lived in this sprawling multistory mansion owned by Mr.Rathore, the ultimate boss, aka the Godfather of this dangerous empire. While others had separate apartments within the estate, they all lived, ate, and trained together as one extended family. The mansion had a central open space where everyone gathered for meals, and another vast area was dedicated to training.

But Arnav’s experience was different. Unlike the boys his age who trained in the common area, he was sent to a secluded hall to train under Master Z. His full name was 'Malik al Zalam', but he preferred to call himself 'Z'. They said Master Z made lethal weapons out of human beings. He was the top trainer of the "League of Shadows." It's an assassin organization managed by the Chicago-based mafia group, "The Outfit." Arnav didn’t fully understand why he needed such extreme training from someone like Master Z, but he didn’t have a choice.

His diet was strictly monitored, and his workouts were mercilessly scheduled. For an entire week, he trained blindfolded, enduring relentless blows that left his body aching. Then another week went by slapping water. The only good part was Mr.Raizada secretly bringing him chocolate cake when Master Z and Mr.Rathore weren’t looking.

Why Mr.Raizada and Mr.Rathore insisted on preparing him this way was a mystery to him. One thing was clear, though--he wasn’t allowed to call his father “Dad” here.

If he said that didn't hurt him, it would be a lie. But he would never acknowledge that to anybody. His dad was his favourite person. He always wanted to be like him, dress like him, talk like him. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Every day, he watched the light fade a little more from his mother’s eyes. She was still here--physically--but only as a fragile shell of the woman she used to be. Her every movement seemed mechanical, driven solely by her duty to him, Anjali, and the baby growing inside her.

It tore at him in ways he couldn’t describe. She was dying in this house, suffocating under the weight of everything she couldn’t say. He wished when his new sibling was born, some of that light would return to her eyes. But deep down, a small part of him feared it might already be too late.

It was his first off day in what felt like forever, and he had plans--simple ones. After all the chaos of the past few weeks, he just wanted to play online games with his online friends and go to bed early.

The recent drama surrounding a failed wedding was still fresh in everyone's minds, but he couldn’t care less. Aunt Vedika, Mr.Rathore's younger sister, was supposed to marry someone from the Jha family, but the groom had fled before the wedding. And out of despair, he guessed, Aunt Vedika hanged herself in her room.

Mr.Rathore’s fury over his sister’s death was volcanic. Rumours circulated that he had kidnapped the daughter of the Gupta family as retaliation. Arnav didn’t know how true the whispers were, nor did he care. That world of vendettas and punishment seemed endless, and he wanted no part of it.

So, when a knock came at his door, cutting into his rare evening of freedom, he groaned inwardly. Mr. Raizada, stepped in, cradling a tiny, sleeping human in his arms.

“Can you watch her for the evening?” Mr. Raizada asked casually, as though this was an everyday request.

Arnav frowned, his gaze flicking between Mr.Raizada and the little girl, not more than four or five. “Is that the Gupta girl everyone’s been talking about?”

“I need you to watch her for me...like a few hours,” Mr.Raizada said, deftly avoiding the question.

Of all the things Arnav wanted to do with his free evening, that ranked dead last. He wasn’t shy about expressing that. “Why can’t you leave her with Mom or Anjali?”

“They’re not home,” Mr.Raizada replied, ever patient. “They went to the hospital for your mother’s check-up.”

Arnav slumped back in his chair. “I’m not doing it.”

Mr.Raizada tilted his head, considering, then offered, “What about...I’ll buy you that bike you’ve been eyeing. How’s that for a deal?”

Arnav’s scowl deepened. “Mr.Rathore doesn’t want me to have that bike.”

“You know what? Fuck Mr.Rathore,” Mr.Raizada said with a wink, laying the little girl gently on the sofa beside Arnav’s computer desk before turning to leave.

"What's her name?" Arnav asked looking at the little girl in a pink dress. She was tiny, unusually tiny.

"Khushi." Mr.Raizada replied shutting the door behind him.

And just like that, Arnav’s evening plans were obliterated by the arrival of a tiny sleeping intruder.

The little girl looked like a delicate porcelain doll, her tiny face framed by a cascade of dark curls that framed her head like a halo. She looked very fragile with her rosy, chubby cheeks and a button-like nose. 

He noticed her shivering, the icy temperature of his room too harsh for someone so small. He sighed and grudgingly adjusted the thermostat before grabbing the throw blanket folded neatly at the edge of the sofa. His mother always insisted on keeping it there for aesthetics, a habit he found unnecessary--until now. Draping it gently over the girl, he realized how useful his mother's quirks could be in moments like these.

Satisfied that she was warm, he slipped on his headphones and lost himself in his game, the familiar world of strategy and fantasy pulling him in. Time passed unnoticed, his focus entirely on defeating opponents and levelling up.

When he finally glanced back at the sofa, he froze. The little girl was awake, her enormous eyes--disproportionately large for her tiny face--fixed on him. They reminded him of cartoon characters, wide and unblinking, filled with a mix of curiosity and drowsiness.

What if she started crying?

He had no idea what he would do if she burst into tears. But the girl didn’t cry. She simply sat there staring at him, her chubby little head tilted slightly, her confusion mirroring his own.

"Uh... hi?" he tried awkwardly, unsure if she could even understand him.

The girl blinked, her small hands clutching the edge of the throw blanket. She yawned, her expression still half-asleep, and continued watching him as if he were the most fascinating thing in the room. And then out of nowhere, she smiled.

A completely radiant smile.

A smile that turned her cartoonish eyes into twinkling half-moons.

It lit up her entire tiny face.

He felt his own lips twitch as well.

Another knock at his door and he exhaled a sigh of relief, hoping it was Mr.Raizada coming to take the girl off his hands. But it was Omprakash, one of Mr.Rathore's loyal staff.

“Arnav Baba, Vikrant Sir asked to take the girl to the basement,” Omprakash said flatly.

The basement!!

Nothing good ever happened in the basement. It wasn’t a place for a little girl like her, hell, it wasn’t a place for anyone, not even grown men.

Since moving here, he had spent most of his free time exploring the sprawling property that Mr.Rathore called home. His curiosity eventually led him to discover the basement’s grim purpose. It was a place of torture, where information was extracted, enemies were punished, and murders were carried out.

What did they plan for this little girl?

Were they going to hurt her as retaliation for Aunt Vedika's death?

Or worse, were they going to do something similar to what they’d done to Payal?

His heartbeat escalated.

She was so young for any of this.

And so defenceless.

And so so small.

Omprakash didn’t hesitate, scooping the girl into his arms and heading toward the basement. She clung to the throw blanket Arnav had wrapped her in, her tiny face peeking over Omprakash’s shoulder.

Arnav hesitated only for a moment before springing into action. He needed to know what they were planning. Discreetly, he followed Omprakash down the hall, his footsteps light and deliberate. And the whole way, the little girl kept looking at Arnav over Omprakash's shoulder.

With her huge cartoonish hazel eyes.

Present day

She still has those cartoonish eyes.

And he wants to see those eyes as the life drained out of them, those damning eyes that push him into hell.

Every fucking time.

Every fucking way.

He watches her from the shadows as her car moves past the gates of the Gupta mansion, just like he spent years watching her from afar. She is both a punishment and a compulsion. She is a living wound that festers in his soul, poisoning his every thought.

Hatred claws at his chest, sharp and unrelenting, but beneath it lies something darker, something he refuses to acknowledge. He hates her with a rage so consuming it burns through his veins like wildfire. His hatred has a pulse, a rhythm that quickens every time he sees her.

It infuriates him.

It fascinates him.

And one day, he will take what he owes, and maybe then he'll find some peace. Maybe then, his chest wouldn't feel so tight every fucking second of every single day. Every single day she lived, every single day he survived.

Every single fucking day.

He's been thinking about it for so long.

She is going to die at his hands.

The most beautiful death.

It will be a sight to behold.

The roar of the bike engine fills the night air as he races down the empty streets. The cold wind bites at his skin, but it does little to cool the fire of his thoughts. The images of her, are like ghosts riding alongside him.

Haunting and relentless.

Her eyes, her defiance, the way she looked at him with a mix of fear and something else he couldn't quite place. His grip tightens on the handlebars.

Her voice echoes in the distance of his mind, soft and light, as though it isn’t built on the ruins of his life. It mocks him and tempts him until he can’t look away. She shouldn’t have this...this liberty to torment him. She shouldn’t exist at all. And yet, his mind is a prison, every thought chained to her. He imagines her face when he isn’t trying to, her voice slipping into his ears unbidden. The curve of her lips, the way her hair falls against her cheek...it infuriates him how clearly he can picture it all.

And then there’s the way she moves, the way she smiles at people who don’t deserve it, at men who dare to stand too close. It sends a rush of fury through him, cold and bitter. She doesn’t see him watching, doesn’t know he lingers on the edges of her life, orchestrating and unravelling her world in equal measure.

Something darker, stranger and far more dangerous coils tightly around his hatred, suffocating and exhilarating. He despises himself as much as he despises her for letting his hatred be tainted, for letting his hatred cross a line. His hatred isn’t pure anymore. It’s stained with something way more sinister.

It’s an infection, a sickness, a madness that grows with every passing day. And yet, he cannot stop.

She is his punishment.

His fixation.

His downfall.

All his life, he thrives on control in every aspect. And he has achieved it. Every emotion, every instinct, is meticulously reined in...his anger, his hatred towards her, and the burning urge to track her down and end her life.

And she comes and wrecks it all.

He hates her more for it. But, he hates her most for the way he craves her...

She is unbearable to look at.. intolerable even, not granting the mercy of looking away. Everything about her exudes a perilous beauty, like a rose unapologetically flaunting its thorns. She's alluring in the way deadly things often are.

Her beauty is..dangerously toxic.

It's venomous.

It's alarming.

It's unsettling.

He remembers how she looked earlier this evening. Every part of him burned the fire so fiercely it almost felt like his skin was being seared by her presence alone. His body stirred without his permission, a brutal, bone-meting wave of desire crashing through him, leaving him weak, exposed. He gritted his teeth fighting the rush, but it was futile, an insatiable hunger sank into his bones, making it impossible to think of anything else but her.

She was so close, yet a universe way. His hands twitched at his sides desperate to touch, to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. Every inch of her called to him..her smile, her eyes, the curve of her neck, her bare back...

It's intoxicating.... lethally captivating.

It ripped through him, tearing apart his control, leaving nothing but an overwhelming need that clawed at his chest. His eyes raked over her, and the sight of her..so effortlessly enthralling, so unaware of the chaos she stirred....

He wanted to feel her beneath him, wanted to lose himself in the softness of her body, wanted to strip away every layer of resistance until there was nothing between them but skin, heat, and the sound of their breath.

His body reacted before his mind caught up, hard, aching, and wild with the need to claim her, to possess her completely. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to look away, but it was no use. She's seared into his mind, every part of her haunting him, wrapping him tighter in the need to break her apart and piece her back together in his image.

He turns his bike sharply, the screech of tyres breaking the silence of the empty streets. Her name echoes in his head, both a mantra he can’t silence and a curse.

He hates her for what she does to him. But more than that, he hates how he can't control himself around her...And it sickens him. He wants to destroy her, wants to ruin her for anyone else because if he can't have her, no one can.

There's no reason left. No logic. Only the raw, primal urge to have her, to mark her as his, to remind her that she belongs to his rage, his grief, his chaos.

He made plans, damnit.

Meticulous plans, to end the cycle.

To end her.

All his revenge would be served, and he wouldn’t even have to pull the trigger himself. He could simply sit back and enjoy the show.

It feels like fate is mocking him. The last 18 years of his life were spent believing who she was not. She is not who the world thinks she is.

Yet, still, she was the catalyst of the chaos that consumed his life. All the deaths he endured and caused, all the blood staining his hands.

He bought her life at the cost of countless others.

It shouldn't change anything for him after knowing who she is. He should have let his plan work as it is. He should have let the Wolves end her tonight.

But he is here again.

Back to square one.

Protecting her from the monsters again.

One that he unleashed upon the world.

And one that is raging within him.

The city lights blur into streaks of colour as his bike speeds through the empty streets. A creature of night.

When it comes to monsters, there's always one bigger and more vicious than the rest, like the one he’s about to hunt tonight.

Sex trafficking and the red-light district trade are colossal enterprises within the Triad, encompassing casinos, clubs, and high-society escort services hidden behind the facade of luxury resorts and hotels like The Crown and many more like that. All three families reap the rewards, their coffers overflowing from this grim business.

To avoid internal wars and eliminate competition, the Triad formed a separate syndicate solely for this venture. Profits are divided into four parts: one for each family and one for the employees. This syndicate, known as the Triad Tribe, operates independently, answering only to a specific captain, a leader chosen annually by the three bosses. It is an important position, overseeing a fortune that flows through the darkest veins of society.

That reminds him, he has a meeting with the Triad Tribe captain, Dhruv Rao, early tomorrow morning. He plans to approach the Tribe defensively. If Dhruv Rao gives him what he wants, he might grant the man a few months of reprieve...maybe.

The business of the Tribe has been bleeding losses for the family ever since their international shipment of trafficked women was intercepted by the CBI five years ago, due to an anonymous tip. Since then, the Triad Tribe has halted human trafficking operations overseas, focusing instead on managing red-light areas, brothels, casinos, and clubs.

However, controlling internal trafficking and sexual coercion has proven trickier. Over the last few years, brothels and clubs have faced frequent police raids--again, sparked by anonymous tips. While these raids rarely shut the businesses down permanently, they freed many girls held there against their will.

And through this very process, he has quietly built a network of spies within the Triad Tribe. The rehabilitation centre he's funded anonymously became a refuge for these rescued women. Some of them, determined to save others, agree to act as his informants. Pretending to be sex workers, they infiltrate the operations, gathering intel for him.

It is through one of these spies that he's learned about a Wolves member, currently indulging himself in a hotel room above one of the triad tribe clubs--a man working in the family’s security detail. Not the head himself, Adam Hunt, an ex-American Navy SEAL, but someone linked to him. The same man whose subordinates accosted Miss Gupta tonight.

According to his spy within the Wolves family, they still don’t know anything about the killing of Preetika Nair. If that were true, then why is this man in the city?

Dressed in all black, he moves like a Ghost. A mask covers his face from the nose down, and the hood of his leather hoodie is pulled low, shrouding his features. The darkness is his ally, and he knows how to disappear within it.

Tonight, he carries no firearms--only his crossbow. The absence of a gun doesn’t bother him. If anything, it adds a thrill to the hunt. Looks like he’ll have to get creative with this motherfucker.

Holding the upper edges of the window, he leaps onto the pipe running along the side of the building. His muscles, guided by memory, move efficiently as he begins to climb, one foot pressing against the window frame, the other braces on the pipe.

Stopping at the window five stories above, he peers inside and spots Vishal Hegre sprawled on the bed, grinning as two girls service him.

Moving with feline stealth, his parkour and martial arts training taking over, he swings to hang from one hand, the other securing a firm grip on the windowsill. Ensuring the room's occupants remain engrossed, he eases the window open and slips inside, landing silently before ducking behind a large couch in the dimly lit room.

"Damn window," Vishal mutters irritably. "Go close it."

One of the girls gets up, shuts the window, and returns to the bed.

Straightening, he strides to the foot of the bed and retrieves the crossbow behind his back. Before anyone can react, he fires, embedding an arrow squarely into Vishal Hegre's palm and nailing it to the headboard. A bloodcurdling scream rips through the room as Hegre thrashes, his wide, frantic eyes darting until they land on the figure in the shadows. Terror overtakes him.

Arnav raises a gloved finger to his lips, a silent command for the girls to stay quiet.

His gaze shifts to a wallet lying on the floor near the bed. Picking it up, he pulls out the bulging bills inside and tosses them onto the bed between the trembling women.

"Get dressed," his distorted voice commands through the modulator. "Mr. Hegre no longer requires your services."

The girls scramble to comply, heads down, avoiding the sight of the man writhing on the bed. Just as they’re about to leave, his voice echoes in the dark again.

"And what will you say when you go outside?"

"Nothing, sir," they whisper in unison, their voices shaking.

The door clicks shut behind them, locking the door automatically, leaving Hegre alone with him.

"What do you want?" Hegre stammers, still struggling to free his hand from the headboard.

"They all ask the same questions," Arnav remarks. "What do you want? Who are you?"

Ignoring the man’s pleading, he moves to the table, inspecting a bottle of whiskey. It’s a good brand. Opening it, he begins pouring the amber liquid around the edges of the bed, emptying the bottle methodically. Then he fetches another bottle from the cabinet and returns, tipping some onto the writhing Hegre, soaking him in the sharp scent of alcohol.

"Are you the one killing the Triad associates?" Hegre babbles, his voice breaking. "No--please! I'll give you anything! Anything you want!"

Ah, fear. Good old fear. His old friend. They reunite again.

He has been methodically dismantling the Triad, one member, one associate at a time--silently, ruthlessly. Each death was a calculated move, a slow bleed that weakened the organization from within. He moves like a ghost. Guess, his reputation precedes him. They feel the fear before they even know he’s there.

Hegre reeks of desperation and fear, the stench mingling with alcohol and urine. Disgust flickers across Arnav’s face. It isn’t just the smell, it’s the sound of his voice--grating, unbearable.

It disgusts him even more when he starts craving her voice, soft yet commanding, the one he can still hear in his mind.

Fucking hell.

Grabbing Hegre’s hair in a firm, gloved grip, he yanks hard, eliciting another cry of pain.

"Drink," he orders.

Gulping and trembling, Hegre opens his mouth obediently. Arnav tips the bottle, pouring its raw contents down the man’s throat. Hegre chokes and coughs, sputtering as the fiery liquid burns its way down. When the bottle is nearly empty, Arnav steps back, watching as a fleeting look of relief crosses Hegre’s face.

He lets him cling to it.

For now.

He drags a chair in front of him and sits down, quietly watching him.

People always underestimate the power of silence, the way it makes people squirm, their thoughts racing for an answer, a reason. He lets the silence take over, never speaking a word, knowing full well it will force their imagination to run wild.

Will he kill them? How? A bullet to the head? A quick, painless death, or something far slower, more drawn out? Would he make them beg? Suffer? Twist their limbs, pull their skin? Or perhaps strip them of something deeper, something that would never heal?

He doesn't need to ask them anything. He knows that the longer he sits there unwavering, the more their minds will unravel, and they'd begin to question their own fate. And when they crack, when they show the first sign of weakness, then he will strike.

Quietly.

Efficiently.

"I'll tell you everything just get this thing out of my hand," Hegre says again sweating like a dog. It's pathetic, the snot, the tears as he blubbers like a baby. "P..please."

"Why are the Wolves in this area?" Arnav asks as he watches Hegre squirm.

"Umm....to..to kill the Gupta girl."

"Why?"

"Because...Shyam Jha's minion killed Mr.Naik's daughter."

"Hmm..You're an interesting person, Mr. Hegre. Your men are dead, lying by the side of the road, and you're getting your cock sucked?"

"They said they'd got it under control," Hegre mutters, his voice cracking, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

"Tsk, tsk, overconfidence is never good," Arnav clicks his tongue. "So you started the celebration early, huh? What will Mr. Hunt say about that?"

"I don't give a fuck what that American dog thinks," Hegde spits out. "I have worked for the wolves for so long...and when the head of security was to be determined, it went to that fucking bastard. I will show him I am better than him. I wanted to get the work done and surprise Mr. Naik."

"So...Mr.Hunt doesn't look know that you are here or what you were going to do?"

"No."

"Who else knows about the serpent involvement besides you?"

"No one."

"Your men?"

"Those who knew, I sent them to do that job."

A Police siren wails in the distance heightening Hegre's panic. "Let me go, man! I can't get caught here. I have a reputation."

"Mr.Hegre, do you know how hard it is to keep the Wolves from finding out who killed Miss Naik?"

Hegre's eyes widen. "You have killed the right hand man of that American dog, haven't you?"

"He was too close to find out....but you amazed me, you slipped under my radar...how did you find out?"

"The bomb...that killed Miss Naik..I knew who can make this bomb. I worked with him before..he is one of the Serpent."

"And you didn't share this information with Mr.Hunt?"

"No....You...are the one they call 'The Ghost', right?" Hegde's eyes are telling Arnav that he knows his time is up, that he knows what they say on the street that nobody sees 'The Ghost' unless he is going to die. "Listen, let me go, I'll join forces with you. I have a family, two daughters. I can't be caught here. I would die of shame."

Arnav watches him squirm some more, his voice calm but cutting. "Let me end your misery then."

He flickes a lighter which he retrieved earlier that day, directly from the boss himself. A snake is engraved in it, the sign of The Serpents. He tosses it onto the bed. Flames erupt immediately, licking up the soaked sheets and spreading quickly. Hegre's screams grow louder as the fire consumes him. So does the Police siren.

He jumps back from the window to the narrow alley behind the club, leaving behind a symbol of the serpent in the scene.

A warning, A massage.

For the Serpent, because this lighter will soon find Mr.Gupta. And he will know 'the Ghost' is coming after the serpent next. He is closer than they think.

The mafia war between the Serpent and the Wolves needs to start, but he has to make sure the little bird remains untouched.

She’s off-limits. No one dares lay a finger on her. He will burn the entire city down and raze it to the ground before letting anything happen to her.

Only he has the right to kill her.

No one else.

The morning light pours through the glass surrounding his high-rise office. The city below remains a blur of waking motion, but up here, he is alone, staring at the picture of a girl he hasn’t seen in sixteen years. It’s not her real photograph, just an AI-enhanced image, aged from her childhood picture to reflect what she might look like now. He hopes, almost desperately, that it matches the real person.

His jaw clenches. So many years of searching, of following false leads, of tracking shadows...and now, here she is again, in front of him, just out of reach.

He has been actively searching since he returned to this country; not once did he think to look into the Triad tribe. He should have. He doesn’t know why he overlooked it. Since when did Mr. Rathore ever keep his promises?

"Sir, Mr.Rao is here."

"Send him in."

Dhruv Rao enters the room, his easy grin at odds with the aura he carries. Once a street fighter, now one of the Triad tribe's most trusted soldiers. He started as an underground fighter and fought his way up the ranks. At such a young age, he’s become the captain of the Triad tribe, mainly due to his tenacity and his ability to command the soldiers in the streets.

"Hello, boss, what's up?" Despite his reputation in the underground arena as a fearless fighter, he is quite chirpy.

Arnav motions for him to take a seat.

"Let’s get to business first, Mr.Rao." Arnav wastes no time. "I want a favour."

"Anything, Boss."

He slides the picture across the table. "I want you to arrange this girl for me," Arnav says, gritting his teeth. He’s been searching for her everywhere. He never imagined Mr. Rathore would hide her in a place like that. But the recognition in Dhruv's eyes tells him that he has seen her before.

Damn it.

"No can do, boss," Rao responds quickly, shaking his head. "That one’s exclusive for Mr.Rathore. No one’s allowed near her room except him."

Arnav’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his composure. "And, where it is?...Her room?"

Rao hesitates, "Boss, I am really sorry. I can't give you her location. It's not permissible. Mr.Rathore passed even strict orders to inform him if anybody does look for her.....she lives like a princess in there."

He could have approached Rao in the shadows and instilled the fear of God in him until he spilled everything. But Arnav has no intention of ruffling the feathers of the Godfather of the families, not yet. Let them bask in their false sense of security a little longer.

Arnav’s eyes narrow, his voice quiet. "Mr. Rao, let’s not make this unpleasant...let not expose youself to the bosses for the minor hiccups you have over the year...they might not take them lightly. They could even start questioning your loyalty."

"I don't understand." But Rao's eyes say he knows and understands clearly.

"Hmm... let me reprase it so that you’ll understand. Why do your reports show fewer girls when I know you’re bringing in double? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to count......"

Rao gulps first, then shifts in his seat, his confidence wavering. Rao looks uneasy but doesn’t falter. "Mr.Raizada, when I was summoned, I knew I wouldn’t walk out alive. If I give you the information, I’m dead anyway. If I don’t, I die too. But man to man, I really hope you’ll give me a chance to fight for my life." He pauses, his voice dropping a little. "Next week, there’s a match. You win, I’ll tell you everything. I win, we forget this conversation ever happened. I’m a simple man, boss. I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire of these family matters."

Arnav studies him for a moment, then smirks. "A match, huh? Feeling pretty confident, Rao."

Rao straightens up, his smile returning. "They don’t call me Show Stopper for nothing."

Arnav lets the silence stretch for a moment, before he simply says, "Done."

As Dhruv Rao exits his office, Arnav dials a familiar number.

"I miss you too, bestie," comes through the line, after the first ring.

Mathur's annoyingly smug and sleepy tone made Arnav sigh. He summons every ounce of patience he can muster. At times, he isn’t sure if he wants to strangle the man or laugh at his absurdity. Somehow, though, the bastard is probably the only person on the planet who can get away with calling him bestie. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

"Wake up, Asshole."

"Why, who died?" Mathur mumbles, the sound of a yawn escaping.

"You’re about to," Arnav snaps. "If you don’t show up in the office in the next 30 minutes."

"Okay Mr. Grumpy-pants, make it 45," Mathur replies lazily, then his tone turns serious. "How was the meeting?"

Arnav scoffs in the solitude of his office. The meeting hadn’t gone as he intended.

"Keep an eye on Dhruv Rao. Hack his phone. GPS, earphones, everything. I want to know where he goes, who he talks to."

Author’s Note:

Hello, everyone. I’m back and excited to share the chapter. I went to have some vitamin sea and it was a much needed escape from the hectic life.

Let me know how you are liking this dark version of ASR. Also I am open for suggestions. Leave a comment if there's any other way you want to see him.

Bye, bye.

<previous> | <next>

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @chutkiandchotte @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @9artsdragon @chaiandtakkar @msbhagirathi

[theyanderespecialist]

Chris's Baby Girl (Headcanons) Platonic Chris Redfield X Adopted Daughter Reader

[Hello My Sexy Muffins, I am back with a new chapter! This Chapter is an OLD request off of Tumblr! Which is Platonic Yandere Father Chris Redfield x Adopted Daughter Reader! This will not be romantic, it is just a yandere type of protective parent! So please enjoy!]

(Disclaimer: THIS IS PLATONIC! NO ROMANTIC YANDERE IN THIS POST! Chris Redfield also is not yandere in canon. Like platonic Yandere characters are fine! As long as you are not illegal or gross about it and remember to separate fiction from reality. Platonic yanderes are not ideal parts to have and please be safe!)

.So Chris adopted you when you had just been a baby.

.You were a kid whose family had died due to, The mold.

.He could not just leave you, then when he locked eyes with you, he knew you were his daughter.

.He is beyond a protective platonic yandere parent

.in which he has protected you from so much throughout your life.

.Bullies being dealt with without mercy.

.yeah he would Frick those bullies up or at the very least get the parents moved out of state.

.He is also very caring to you as his daughter.

.he has been the type to dress up as a fairy princess, let you do his makeup, and play pretend.

.Though once you were old enough he began to teach you hand-to-hand combat, then later on how to shoot and use a knife.

.That is right he knows he will not always be around to take care of you. But he is not going to let you be hurt if he can help it.

.He would also be the type of platonic yandere parent that would NOT want you to date!

.Boys are nothing but trouble that will hurt you if you ended up liking more than just boys.

.then he will now have to deal with at least twice as many threats to your safety!

.when it came time for your period he was well stocked up! Every type of pad or tampon that you can imagine.

. A whole video presentation of what a period is and how a baby is made.

.He would not let you feel shame in being female and having a healthy body.

.When he finally lets you date he is the type of yandere parent to do a HUGE background check on your date whatever gender they might be.

.Of course, he already did a little something similar with friends you have.

.He really does not trust anyone with you his baby girl.

.He also would teach you not to take a crap, if you told a boy or anyone no and to stop but they did not, then to put them in their place.

.he raises you to be a young lady who knows what she wants, does not take crap or abuse, cares for others, and shows compassion.

.He has probably even chipped you with a tracker when you were born and tracks your online activities.

.Also would have a security team watching you all the time when he cannot be with you. To keep you safe.

.keeping you safe is his main goal.

.He will always protect his baby girl. No matter what.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter done, I hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy all of my muffins!]

[untilthenextencore]

Recollections & Rebirth~...

Tucking a stray graying curl behind his ear Jimmy turned the corner into the day nursery. Long unused but never ignored or out of care. It was always paid as much attention as the rest of his beloved home regardless of how much use it did or didn't see. He had instructed his cleaning lady to pay special attention to this room as of late, as he now knew it would soon fall back into use. As would its newest old addition.

A restored antique crib done in a rich cherry brown wood that leant itself well to its warmly ornate surroundings. Carefully restored & just as carefully polished & fitted with plush new bedding, with a cheerful stuffed teddy & blanket to await its new tenant's arrival in the coming months.

He stepped closer into the hallowed halls of his intimate life that he kept well shrouded from the public. As shrouded as the little treasure that was listed in the blurry little printout that he had one - of many - copies framed atop a nearby dresser that read, "Baby: Page."

How had he found himself here again? For the umpteenth time. He didn't know. He was just glad to see it again. To be able to spend more time here again. To experience it again. To savor it again. Relishing every little thing.

Especially her.

Soraya.

She had barely started to show & already he was dressing her. Styling in the loose, diaphanous, flowing gowns that befitted her role as lady of the manor. Billowing skirts & all. PreRaphaelitic Earth Goddess Supreme. Queen of his heart.

She demured as she was wont to do when she felt he was doing too much or being to generous. But soon, shyly & with some coaxing took to it like a duck to water. As he knew she would. He loved to spoil her. Lived for it. Loved opening new doors for her. Especially knowing that these new opened doors would with their opening also open or reveal new facets to her personality & personage in its development, as it was so proving to then.

She was taking to massaging cocoa butter to her softly rounding stomach at random times as well as after every shower. Also after a lot of these times, she would finish by massaging the rest into her limbs, until they gleamed in the soft light from where the diaphanous gowns revealed them. A glowing earth goddess she appeared to him then.

She also massaged a bit into his hands & arms after his guitar practice & noodling. Rubbing him into relaxation. Kneading her love into him all the while. A moment of sweet stillness shared between the two.

They had a short list of long names to use for the baby. Favored artists serving as namesakes.

She was also starting up nesting like mad. She bought a few baby clothes from mom & pop shops both online & brick & mortar. Jimmy showed her a few shops himself. Shops she might never have even thought to look in. Admittedly, a few of them were shops that were more likely in his price range than hers. But again, he liked spoiling her. Liked spoiling the baby. Even before the baby was born or had proven to be more than a slight bump in her belly.

The clothes were simple. Little bits that could be used both should "Baby Page" prove to be a boy or a girl. Soft linen shifts & shirts. Soft cotton sleepers with matching caps. Plush blankets & washcloth & towel sets. Some had personalization, last name only as it was still too early to even find the baby's gender much less name it or have a name to put on any bedding or toys or such.

The simple sight of the blanket resting on the bars of the crib, repeating the same two-word announcement of the little blurry picture was both earth-shattering & heartwarming. "Baby Page". His heart surged every time he peeked into the room to check in on things & admire any of his & Soraya's new additions to the room. It gave him a little lift with each step he took. As such, he made his little check-in visits often. He loved the buzzy, bubbly, excited little feeling it gave him. It made him deliriously happy. And he was sure that Soraya felt the same, seeing her embroider little things for the baby. Hats. Sleepers. Shifts. All little things that made the baby more hers. More theirs. More real. Even before its birth.

And now all that was left was to wait.

In the new year they were to have their new baby.

Sometime in late Winter early Spring, when the frosts thaw & life springs anew a new life would begin. It was all too perfect. Too real and yet unreal. And too deliciously, deliriously thrilling for words. Jimmy & Soraya couldn't wait. In the meantime they would nest, preparing their Tower for its newest little resident's arrival in the early Spring. With a potential date on the calendar circled, they were now counting the days...

~

Hope you all enjoy~!

As ever this is forever under construction~!

[menmoms]

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[littletagsluxury31]

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[icarusxdemise]

To Be Born Female

From before they are even born there are people that when a baby is being brought into the world they will pray, wish, cross their fingers that it will be a boy, even for others; “Girls cry too much”, “They are too loud”, “I won’t have the same love for them as I do my baby boy”, “They are too much work”, “When they’re teenagers they will become monsters”, “I won’t have the same connection if it’s a girl”, “They aren’t as loving as boys”, “ They are more dramatic”. These are things I’ve heard when in discussion of someone wanting to or is pregnant, or things I have read in different media forums about pregnancy and raising kids. There are whole groups made just for moms that have boys and how much of a boy mom they are. How amazing having only boys is.

Men are more volatile it seems with their hatred at the thought of having a daughter. There are videos online showing baby showers of all different couples as the main focus. It doesn’t matter in what way the colors are revealed, if pink is seen showering from the air as confetti, Barbie doll pink balloons released into the sky, or a dyed pink center of a cake. There is a chance of that man seeing that baby doll pink color and freezing. Not out of surprise or happiness or excitement, but rage. They see that color and walk away. They see that color and start destroying things around them. Tearing down the signs and streamers and decorations. They will start angrily whispering to the other or themselves or scream at the top of their lungs “NO!” while throwing their hat on the ground. The look of discontent, disgust, and disconnection that they already hold for their soon to be daughter clear on their face. The mother will later post the video for all to see for laughs. Thinking it’s something everyone will find funny. But when people see that video, they will see the real anger in the man’s eyes. The mother thinks it’s funny, that he isn’t actually mad for having a daughter. That we don’t know him so we have no say in if the reaction he made is justified or not. That it’s normal for a man to act like this. Making excuses for him. It isn’t normal, at least it shouldn’t be but sadly it seems that it is in some people’s eyes. The villainization of being born a person with a vagina starts before birth, before they have taken their first breath, before they can do any wrong to deserve the hatred thrown their way. 

 The means to be born female means to be an object first. From the beginning, one to be owned, to be curated into the perfect princess everyone would look at in awe and admire their newborn beauty. Dressed up in pink dresses and bows with little boots to match. Dressed to impress. They are untouched by the outside world, at least physically, but that doesn’t stop the objectification from happening, even if unconsciously. Just to be born into the world and have your picture taken to later be admired by others. To be seen and criticized by others. To have people see your newborn body and judge you on how much you weight, how much hair is on your body, how much red is in your skin, how cute your nose and eyes are, if your skull is shaped in a pretty way. They need, yearn to know what you look like. You get no privacy in being born, looked at from nurse to nurse, family member to family member right from the womb. They aren’t doing it to be malicious, they love you, they want no harm done to you, but right now you are the hot new commodity to be seen, held, even smelled, and shown off to the world.

[pixiethreads4]

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Kids Sherwani Ethnic wear Dhoti pant Indo western - for kids and boys from Ahhaaaa

Kids Sherwani Ethnic wear Dhoti pant Indo western – for kids and boys from Ahhaaaa

Price: (as of – Details) From the house of “Ahhaaaa”, This boys dress consists of a boys ethnic wear set. The boys ethnic wear features an embroidery on it with Stone, Pearls, Gota work, banded collar and beautiful button design. This kids clothes have soft texture and the fit is regular for boys clothing . These party wear for boys set featuring an eye-catching design. These kids dresses are…

[rainydayotomes]

Can I ask for collarxmalice family headcanons?? Like how many children would they want, maybe also the gender of them, if they would be good parents/how they would be like at parenting. Thank you so much and love your blog!

Hehe, thank you love! Here are your hcs~

Yanagi

At first, he's a little unsure about children

He's not opposed to them, but he really doesn't feel confident about being a father

But considering how often you two... uh... ya know ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) it was bound to happen quite soon

When you tell him you're pregnant, he's absolutely overjoyed

He starts reading books on parenting. So, so many books.

He wants a daughter! But of course he wouldn't mind a son either. He's just worried a son would take after him and act like he did when he was younger....

Yanagi definitely thinks one child is enough once the baby is born, but as your firstborn grows older, he... actually kind of wants a second one

So that's how you two ended up with two children

Yanagi tries to let the two be independent as much as he can, but it's difficult when he also wants to be at their side and help them with everything

He loves taking care of the children, being around them, and watching them grow up

He doesn't spoil them, but he does treat them sometimes and definitely makes sure they're prepared for anything and everything

The smile he has on his face when your first born goes to school is as brilliant as the sun

Sasazuka

No. No. No. No children. He doesn't want small dumb cats running around

He coolly and calmly opposes any thoughts or mentions of children

........

Except when you tell him that you're pregnant, he's actually seriously happy, even though he doesn't really show it

Takeru doesn't mind a son or a daughter, he's just overjoyed to have a child

Being able to see a small human that was literally born from your love.... he's thrilled, he really is

Takeru doesn't mind taking care of the child at all, buuuut he is absolutely not thrilled to change diapers and deal with anything butt related

.....although one day, you do catch a glimpse at the two of them joking about farts

One day while you're out, Takeru is quite alarmed to find his donuts missing

........and is even more alarmed to find his toddler passed out with donut crumbs scattered around them, and an empty donut box beside them

Takeru desperately tries to hide the fact that your kid takes after his donut obsession, but after a while he gives up and uses the donut-love to his advantage

He rewards the child with a donut for any good thing they do- he kinda spoils them with donuts but hey, it works!

Definitely teaches his kid computer science, coding, and everything in between

Although he can get a bit strict at times, and you can sometimes see him and your 10-year old having a fight

He almost always makes it up to them though, to repair whatever "damage" their fight had to their relationship

Enomoto

Oh boy. Enomoto tells EVERYONE hes gonna be a father once he hears the news

You already know? Too bad, he's telling you again

He's never gonna let you do ANYTHING for yourself. He's gonna be all over you making sure you're comfortable and feeling good

Like Yanagi, he also reads a bunch of parenting books, but also reaches out to magazines and online articles. And even Yanagi and Takeru, who give him some... questionable advice.

Enomoto would love to have a little princess, but he would also love to have a little knight too- either way, he'll make sure they have lots of fun!

Enomoto makes sure to attend EVERY tea party the child holds, if any, and makes sure to let them win almost all wrestling matches the two end up in, if any!

He'll dress up in whatever ridiculous outfits the kid wants him to wear, he'll let them draw on his face, he'll let them paint his nails, and he'll let them do whatever they want to him

He'll always be right there to take care of the child no matter what. He'll always make it to performances or events or parent-teacher conferences or appointments!

He honestly spoils the kid a little too much

But you can tell that they're incredibly close, and the child is well behaved because they don't want to disappoint their superhero dad!

Buuut sometimes the two of them get into trouble, and you have to be the one to scold both of them.

You bet your ass Enomoto wants a second kid! He's not opposed to a third at all, but two is good enough :3c

Okazaki

Kei is the one who approaches you to ask if you want kids

He's thrilled when you say yes and when you tell him you're finally pregnant

Kei knows you're strong, and mostly leaves you alone during the pregnancy because he knows you don't need his help

However he's more then happy to help a lot more later on and do/get whatever you need

He would prefer a little boy, so he can roughhouse as much as he wants! But he would also love to spoil a little princess if he had one

So you can imagine how happy he is when you give birth to twins

A boy and a girl! Kei treats them equally, of course, and ends up spoiling both of them a ton

But! He can be stern and strict when necessary, but never in an angry or disappointed way.... more like he genuinely wants to help them learn from their mistakes

He never gets mad or annoyed. Never.

He loves trying out new and weird snacks with the twins, and being able to roughhouse with both of them.

He isn't always able to make it to their performances or big events, but he makes sure to get time with them when he can

And they definitely think he's a superhero saving the most important of people and braving the most incredible of dangers

Kei loves telling them bedtime stories, tucking them in, and taking naps with them

He's quick to be able to get them to smile after something bad happens, and they always feel safe with their father

Shiraishi

Shiraishi is honestly a little shocked when he hears that you're pregnant, and doesn't really know how to feel

He had been thinking a lot about having a family in the recent years being with you, but now that he's faced with being an actual father, he isn't quite sure

But he thinks on it, and realizes that he's ok with this, and he's even looking forward to it!

He's curious to see how the child develops and whether it takes more after you or him

He doesn't really care about it's gender, and doesn't prefer either way

He wants the child to take after you- to be loved by everyone and to be kind and beautiful. He despises the idea of the child being more like him.

He's a little worried he may not be a good parent at all, but he determines that worrying won't do him any good and he instead he pushes through

He takes care of the baby just fine, and is quite good at soothing it and helping it learn and develop

But once the baby grows into a child, he kind of... distances himself

Not entirely on purpose, he just really doesn't know how to interact with them

But one event where the young child falls on the playground and starts crying has Shiraishi leaping into action

Parental instincts take over, and he's immediately whisked them away to the side to see if they're injured and to soothe them

When they throw themself into his arms, though.... he freezes, and is a little unsure about himself

But it hurts to hear his child in pain, and from that moment onward, he's always by his child's side, comforting them and helping them learn and thrive

He doesn't play nearly as much with his child as all the other fathers do, but he makes sure that they have what they want and need and that they're good to be on their own

He is INCREDIBLY helpful when it comes to homework though! He's always happy to answer any questions and help them work through any tough problem

He's quite happy if the child takes after him a little bit, despite his earlier wanting of the child to be like you

In teaching his child to be human, he too grows with them. He makes sure his offspring doesn't make the same social "mistakes" that he does, and in turn he also becomes more sociable and perhaps even ends up with a few friends!

When it comes to christmas or their birthday, Shiraishi makes sure to get them a gift they will love. Every single time. He's the perfect gift giver.