#night stay in delhi

[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 10

Weddings and Vendettas

He's a wolf in disguise

But I can't stop staring in those evil eyes

- ( The song of the chapter is 'Monster' by Lady Gaga)

Khushi sits silently at her desk, gently caressing the bandage on her wrist. With every blink, her eyelashes stir, each moment bringing a new flash of the same memory, vivid and unrelenting.

Rain.

Raindrops.

Raindrops clinging to long lashes.

Lashes framing beautiful brown eyes.

Fingers clutching a coat lapel,

Fingers circling a delicate wrist.

Teeth clenched around a glass piece.

Lips curled into a barely-there smirk.

Buaji's voice cuts through the trance. "Haire Nand Kishore, you're drenched! You'll catch a cold!" she fusses, rubbing a towel through Khushi's hair. Her eyes dart to Khushi's wrist, and a gasp escapes her lips. "What happened to your wrist?"

"It's just a tiny cut, Buaji. Don't worry."

"Are you feeling dizzy?"

"Why would I feel dizzy?"

"Because the sight of blood makes you dizzy, bitiya. Are you alright?"

"Oh," Khushi says, a trace of bitter amusement in her voice as she remembers the younger version of herself, the one who would faint and vomit at the mere sight of her own blood. Buaji doesn't know, that Khushi died a long time ago. The girl who once crumbled at the sight of red vanished the day she ended a man's life. Blood doesn't bother her much anymore. She's learned how to control it. Like she's learned to control the feelings coursing through her blood.... rage, fear, desire....

Except when 'he' is near.

One particular Armani-clad individual still makes her blood boil, agitating her to the point that she forgets all of her old phobias.

She can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad one.

It can't be anything but disastrous.

He is poisoning her blood.

.

.

.

When Khushi steps out of the shower, wearing her favourite pajamas with towel wrapped loosely around her hair, she sees Buaji rummaging through her cupboard, pulling out every designer outfit she owns.

"What are you doing, Buaji?"

"Didn't Mr.Jha tell you, bitiya? We are going to Gurgaon."

"For what?"

"The Oberoi's eldest son is getting married!...what you guys tell it these days..oh huh..'destination' or something. Obviously, all of Delhi's elites will be there. So, Mr.Jha is taking us with him."

"When?"

"As far as I know, we're supposed to prepare for a two-day stay there, this Saturday and Sunday."

Oh, Sucks.

This puts such a damper on her 'find-the-evidence-and-get-the-hell-out- of-here' project. Two days of mundane chatter, ridiculous cosplays and forced pleasantries. Fake smiles and empty wishes will be used left, right and centre. Weddings bore her to death. Why does she even need to attend? She doesn't know the bride or groom.

Uff..

But of course, Mr.Jha is busy trying to establish every connection he can before his election. Shakti Singh Oberoi isn't just one of the richest men in the city, Mr.Jha's real interest probably lies in the fact that the Oberoi family has a long list of people in Parliament right now. It's always about power and politics.

Buaji holds up two lehengas in front of her, waiting for Khushi to choose.

"Pick whichever you like, Buaji. I don't care."

"What will I do with her? Fine, I'm picking the red one," Buaji huffs.

Khushi rolls her eyes. Buaji can't be more predictable. "Not the red one."

"Why? Red looks good on you, bitiya."

"I'm kind of hating the red colour nowadays. What about pick the purple one."

Khushi connects her phone to the charger as buaji keeps sorting her clothes. She wraps herself in her blanket and drifts off to sleep.

But brown eyes invade her dreams.

Vivid, relentless, and inescapable.

.

.

.

It's insufferable. He is insufferable. That egoistic man is not letting her sleep at night. Khushi throws off her covers and sits up in her bed, dragging her laptop toward her. She will teach him a lesson. What leverage does he have against her again? A CCTV footage. She will hack his phone and erase that footage.

She fiddles with her phone. She has his number, right? He's sent her a text with that video. With a few taps, she searches for his contact.

What the fuck...

Of course, it's encrypted. But it's an encryption she can break.

"Game on, Mr.Raizada. Since the day we met, all you've done is threaten me and pin me against the wall. Now you've crossed your limits. You're pinning me in my dreams as well. I will show you what messing with me will cost you."

Her eyes gleam as her fingers fly across the keyboard, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. A smile stretches across her face as she cracks the code and is almost one tap away from erasing all the information from his phone when her laptop hangs. The screen scrambles with a warning about virus detection, and she curses under her breath as the laptop goes into self-preservation mode.

Frustrated, she rubs her eyes. Her phone beeps with an incoming message. An unknown number.

'Nice try, little bird.'

.

.

.

For the next few days, Khushi looks like a zombie. Not only is she plagued by the same dreams--or nightmares, as she prefers to call them--but nothing interesting is happening in her father's study either. Apparently, the wolves haven't yet discovered who killed their beloved daughter, so the serpents are safe, at least for now.

All of these make Khushi ponder a certain offer. It doesn't feel so bad sitting in her own bedroom, frustrated with empty search results and the impending mind-numbing conversations with a bunch of unknown wedding guests. An IT expert at a tech company-her classmates would salivate over a job like that straight out of college. She knows it's not her qualifications that are getting her this opportunity; it's because of something she can do for him.

Then there's what he said about providing evidence against her father. Ugh... why does she become such a fireball in his presence? He was right. She asked all the wrong questions. Instead of inquiring about the evidence he mentioned, how he got it, and how she could use it, she let his threats get to her and lost her shit entirely.

"I expected more from you, Khushi," she chides herself, banging her head against her laptop. It's a new task for her now, a new skill to learn: how to keep her cool in the presence of Mr.Arnav Singh Raizada.

But she doesn't have his number. How will she contact him? The encrypted number is a one-way street; she can't text him back.

There goes the offer. Now she has to wait for another chance meeting with him to tell him she'll work for him, but only if she can lay down some conditions of her own.

And the worst part? She has no idea when or if she'll meet him again in the near future.

The uncertainty gnaws at her, leaving her more frustrated than ever as she packs her bag for the wedding she is going to attend. The wedding is set in a luxury resort just on the outskirts of the city, no more than a two-hour drive away.

As she tosses clothes into her trolley, her mind races with scenarios, each more outrageous than the last, where she meets him again and tells him about her accepting his offer. She can already imagine the smug look on his face, that infuriating smirk that makes her want to scream, punch and wipe that smile from his face all at once.

But beneath the annoyance, there's a spark of determination. If she can just see him again, she'll find a way to turn the tables. She won't let him intimidate her or pin her down anymore.

Then her thoughts shatter as ice water of realization washes over her. What's the point of thinking about the offer or accepting it? Her father would never allow her to work, and neither would Mr.Jha. She can never do it anyway. She grits her teeth and snaps her trolley shut.

Khushi sits stiffly at the long banquet table, flanked by her father and Mr.Jha, her hands resting on her lap beneath the lavishly decorated tablecloth. The glittering wedding hall around her feels suffocating, the loud hum of chatter and laughter grating against her nerves. Her father, seated to her right, exchanges polite conversation with the other guests, his tone authoritative, as always. To her left, Mr.Jha, the epitome of perfection, flashes his charming smile to those who pass by, looking every bit the polished, well-bred man her father adores.

But Khushi feels disconnected. She is drowning in a world of pretension and formality, a world where every word is calculated, every action rehearsed. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and freshly cut flowers, but it only reminds her how out of place she feels here.

The fabric of her lehenga digs into her skin. She wishes she could tie her hair up, but the makeup artist had styled it in loose waves cascading around her shoulders. The heavy jewellery weighs her down, making her body ache.

She should feel honoured to be seated between these two powerful men, her father's pride and her fiancé's polished charm surrounding her. But all she feels is trapped. Her thoughts swirl with a mixture of resentment and exhaustion. The glittering lights, the perfect smiles, the endless small talk, it all feels hollow.

Her gaze flickers across the room, trying to avoid the eyes of those who expect her to smile, to play the role of the dutiful daughter and future wife. But beneath the calm exterior, her heart races. Her body is present, but her mind is far away.

She softly drums against the linen, as Her eyes drift up, almost instinctively, and there he is.

So the Eagles are here as well, huh?

He is indeed an Eagle through and through, his presence alone exudes power. He’s draped in a deep brown suit-type sherwani, she isn’t quite sure what they are called. The tailored fabric clings perfectly to his imposing frame, every seam accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and the straight line of his posture. The deep, almost regal brown not only adds a richness to his look, but also brings out his eyes even more. She huffs closing her eyes.

He might be an asshole, but he's the kind you can't help but stare at. The traditional attire only adds to his appeal, making him infuriatingly hard to ignore, despite the attitude that comes with it. His presence demands attention, and no matter how arrogant he seems, there's no denying he's dangerously attractive.

His dark gaze fixed on her from across the room. His expression is unreadable, but the intensity behind his eyes is unmistakable. A shiver runs down her spine. A spark ignites in the air between them that no one else seems to notice. She quickly looks away, her pulse racing.

But the pull is undeniable. She glances back at him, catching his gaze once more. She was looking forward to this moment, the chance to meet him face-to-face once more. Her lips curve into a small, almost imperceptible smile, one she tries to suppress but can not. It doesn't escape him. One of his eyebrows lifts up.

And her breath catches. And in that split second, Khushi feels like they are the only two people in the room, locked in a battle of unspoken words and unreadable expressions. But that slight lift of his brow, that glint in his eyes-it tells her he knows. He always knows.

From the corner of her eye, she sees the wedding planner she was introduced to earlier, guiding the Eagles toward the table where she sits. Her heart skips a beat as she watches the group approach slowly. As soon as the first one arrives, the atmosphere shifts. One by one, the members of the Eagles come into view, their faces hardening the instant they spot who is already seated. It takes only a split second. A cold realization ripples through the group. This was a mistake. The wrong families had been seated together.

The wedding planner, blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation, smiles brightly at all of them. She tenses, her eyes flicking toward Mr.Jha, who sits rigidly beside her. A conversation runs through her mind.

"He said he was sure about who killed his father. But how could that be? The person he's talking about was just a boy back then...what, 14 or 15?"

Her eyes snaps back to the brown one.

Oh no!

The tension becomes palpable, thick enough to choke on. Guests at the table shift uncomfortably in their seats, casting uneasy glances at one another.

Mr.Rathore exchanges a sharp glance with Mr.Raizada before his gaze slid to her father, then to Mr.Jha, his lips pressed into a thin line, the displeasure clear despite his outward calm. "Well, this is.....unexpected," Mr.Rathore muttered, his voice cold, eyes darting between the Serpents already seated at the table.

Tension spikes when one of the men beside Mr.Raizada, makes a move to grab the collar of the wedding planner, his temper threatening to erupt. But Mr.Raizada raises a hand, a silent command, and the man freezes. Without breaking his composure, Mr.Raizada pulls a chair out in a smooth motion and gestures Mr.Rathore to sit. Then, with deliberate calm, he pulls out the chair beside Mr.Rathore and sits down himself. He leans back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Forgive the wedding planner for the misunderstanding, Rakesh," he says, with his unsettlingly neutral voice with no malice, no hatred, no rage, no irritation, nothing. "After all, we are all friends here, aren't we?"

Her pulse quickens. She doesn't need to glance at her father to know his jaw is clenched, his fingers likely curled into tight fists beneath the table. And yet, mr.Raizada remains disturbingly calm, too calm. His eyes scan the faces of the serpents, not a single emotion flickering across his features. If anything, he seems amused, as if he's daring them to react, to make the first move.

Mr.Jha gives a curt nod,"Of course," he bites out, faking a smile. There aren't only the members of the Serpents and the Eagles, there are also Mr.Jha's political allies. He has to save face.

Across from her, the brown eyes briefly meet hers before he addresses everyone, "I trust we can make it through a few hours without incident," his voice low but carrying enough weight to silence the murmurs around the table.

The Eagles exchange wary glances as they hesitate for a beat before taking their seats. She watches across from her Junior Rathore quietly takes his place beside Mr.Raizada and then the two girls she saw at the restaurant earlier slide into the seats beside him. One of them, petite, with big dark eyes flashes her a small, secretive smile. The other, with glossy dark hair and a bit more confidence, sneaks a wave as though they're old friends sharing a private joke.

Strange. She frowns. Yet her lips twitch at the surrealness of the situation.

“Oh, darling, you’re here! Sorry, I’m late,” a singsong voice says as a freshly manicured finger trails across Mr.Rathore’s shoulder. A gorgeous woman in a black saree slides into the seat beside him. Ah yes, Mr.Rathore’s girlfriend, Sheetal Kapoor. The envy of all the men in the society.

Slowly, they begin to converse among themselves, and the atmosphere around the table settles back into a semblance of normalcy. Conversations ebb and flow as laughter punctuates the air. Khushi takes a sip of her cold drink, letting the chill pass through her, while her gaze drifts across the table.

There he is, blatantly staring at her, swirling his drink in the glass with a casual nonchalance that betrays his boredom. The corner of his lips quirks up.

She can't help but feel the heat rising in her cheeks under his unwavering gaze. It's as if he's dissecting her every move, and for a moment, she wonders if he can read her thoughts. With a quick glance, she meets his eyes, holding his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary before looking away, trying to regain her composure.

She rolls her eyes internally, refusing to let him see how flustered he makes her. "So charming," she mutters under her breath, hoping the sarcasm will help ease the tension brewing between them. But inside, she feels that familiar spark igniting again, making her pulse race.

She steals another glance, catching him smirking now, that infuriatingly confident smirk that tells her he knows exactly what effect he has on her. The table buzzes around them as the two of them are locked in a silent battle of wills.

The conversation around them shifts into the importance of female education, equality and how Mr.Jha is doing excellent job in this regards, but she has tuned it out.

She places her glass almost defiantly and crosses her arms, looking at him fully, refusing to look away. His smirk stretches further. It's smooth and teasing. He's savouring every second of their little game.

But the game is cut short when a woman, one of the wives of a business associate seated with the Serpents, turns her attention to Khushi with a warm, curious smile

"What about you, bitiya? Are you attending college?"

She blinks, breaking her staring contest, and smooths the napkin over her lap. Her composure slips back into place. She clears her throat, quickly scrambling to switch gears from their wordless duel to the polite conversation at hand.

"Oh, um..." she starts, offering the woman a polite smile. "I've graduated recently from IIT Delhi. Computer Science"

"She’s graduated with honours. We are very proud of her." Mr.Jha adds to their conversation.

The lady smiles radianty at her , "Oh, that's excellent. A girl in Computer Science. I'm so intrigued. Are you doing anything right now? Are you applying for higher education? Masters or PhD or anything else?"

"Umm.... I guess I'm now on a creative hiatus...exploring few..... personal interests."

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches his raised eyebrow across the table, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. Then a sinfully deep voice joins the conversation as well. "In other words, you're neither studying nor working," he comments flatly.

"There are other things I do, of course." she feels her ear pinking as she sips her drink to control the verbal lashing that begs to come tumbling toward Mr.Raizada.

"Do share," he taunts in mock fascination. "What do you do, Miss Gupta? Besides collecting degrees just to keep them gathering dust, I mean." The table falls silent, not a good kind of silence.

"I'm sure, Miss Gupta will have a bright future. She is a brilliant girl and will do wonders to the society alongside her fiancé, Mr.Jha. They will be such an extraordinary couple," Mrs.Rastogi intervenes.

"Yeah, I'm sure, they will. So, tell us, Miss Gupta, what are you planning to do with that degree you get...with the money of the honourable tax payers of this country....besides indulging in hobbies and attending galas..." her eyes narrow as her fingers tightens around her glass, ".....or is it keeping the fashion industry afloat by purchasing enough clothes to dress half the country? If so, thank you in advance by the way, for investing in our business."

"I'm going to kill you, Mr.Raizada," she mutters silently clenching her teeth.

The poor lady, Mrs.Rastogi comes to damage control as she nervously adds, "The IT field has flourished in the last few years. I'm sure she'll find something to contribute to that. Bitiya, what are you planning to do next? Work, perhaps?"

Khushi hesitates, not sure how to respond to that question in front of everyone. Before she can find the right words, the infuriating man cuts through the conversation."Well, that depends, doesn't it?" His gaze flickering to her father and then Mr.Jha, before finally landing back on her. "I suppose certain permissions are required before any plans can move forward."

The words are casual, but the barb is clear. Her polite smile wavers just a fraction.

A particular clinking sound of curtilary draws her attention to Mr.Jha. His expression is calm, but his knuckles whiten around his fork. "Actually, that's not true. I'll let her to do anything she wants." Mr.Jha replies smoothly, his tone polite but edged with barely concealed irritation.

"You'll let her...." He quotes him and smirks leaning slightly forward , "...like I said, she needs your permission to do a job if she wants. Where's the equality in this again?"

"Khushi's future is important to all of us. We only want what's best for her. She has full autonomy to do whatever she wants to do." Mr.Jha says through gritted teeth.

Her eyes meeting the brown ones. His gaze is sharp, as though he's daring her to respond. But she remains silent.

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear, Mr.Jha. How reassuring it is to know that our future leaders practice what they preach! Supporting your fiancée in her career sets such an extraordinary example for the young generation of this country," the lady gushes on and on and on.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs.Rastogi," Mr.Jha responds politely, meanwhile shooting daggers across the table. "Empowering women is a central theme of my campaign. After all, charity does begin at......"

"Actually, Dad," Khushi cuts in with a slightly higher tone, turning fully toward her father, "I have been thinking of sharing this with you for a couple of days. I have an offer from a tech company. Paragon Tech.....I think, I'll consider that offer. What do you think? It's a good company, right?" She asks faking a bright, enthusiastic smile. It's an opening. She had to take this chance.

"Yes, it's a good company. You can work there if you wants, sweetheart." His father says before pursing his lips. "We'll always support her." her father continues, nodding at Mrs.Rastogi while brown-eyes looks like he’s just won the argument.

Everyone returns to their starters as the conversation dies down, but an urge lingers in the air. An urge to strike back.

"You know, Mr.Raizada," Mr.Jha starts with a casual tone. "I heard a very amusing story a few days ago... one of my bodyguards just mysteriously found himself unconscious in your presence."

And that infuriating smirk is back on his face as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "My condolences. You need better security, Mr.Jha, with better skill to remain on their feet.....and better manners."

Mr.Jha’s jaw tightens, but before he can retort, Her father addresses the brown-eyed man across the table with a hard look. "Mr.Raizada, have you forgotten your manners at home?"

Something darker flickers in the caramel-brown orbs, "On the contrary, Mr.Gupta, I remember them quite well, much to your future disappointment."

She can feel both Mr.Jha and his father's rage toward the brown-eyes radiating off them in waves. And she’s sitting in the centre of these three men.

The servers gathering around the table help bring the tension down a few notches. Mr. and Mrs.Rastogi attempt to extinguish the brewing disaster by shifting the conversation to lighter topics, asking Mr.Jha about his political campaign and other matters.

And all this time, his eyes have been on her. Discreet this time, not very obvious.

She feels like burning from the inside out, and all he does is watch, his expression unreadable. It drives her mad, to the point she wants to scream, but instead, her voice comes out quieter as she responds to Mrs.Rastogi's other questions.

After a while, he leans in, his lips moving silently as he whispers something to Mr.Rathore. And then he leaves the table, leaving behind a empty chair in front of her.

The chair remains vacant when their main course is served, even through dessert.

Without his brown eyes all over her, she feels strangely empty too, just like the chair does.

And it’s a dangerous feeling.

A feeling that could ruin her.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! I’d love your feedback. Leave a comment!

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@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @msbhagirathi @titaliya @shiyaravi

[boxeboxer]

SUN LEI

Origin: asalee

Status: posthuman, piloting a standard Class-1D civilian 2028 CHOSHI-II vessel (modern Delhi variant) distributed by OURO

Nationality/Ethnicity: Chinese-Japanese, living in Hunan-Hubei territory (east mainland China)

Age: 36 (date of birth 5/25/2006, transferred in 2029)

Occupation: museum curator and historian for the Qingdao Museum of Galvanism

About:

Sun Lei (addressed as Lei Sun in English) is a historian living in Qingdao, Hunan-Hubei. She is the eldest daughter of a once-prestigious Onmyodo-Wuxing (OW) family which specialized in weapons manufacturing. Her younger sister is Shui Sun.

Lei has bounced around career paths throughout her life. She formally studied architecture in college, but is now focused on archiving historical documents and data preservation, as well as hosting Japanese language classes. As the curator of the QMG, she does research on alchemical practices from antiquity to the present day. She hopes to revive the lost art of OW and her family’s heritage.

Lei is blunt, and tends to take things personally, thus she holds many petty grudges against people, whether they know it or not. She often is the loudest person in the room without realizing it. A perfectionist that cannot keep still, she considered to be an annoyance amongst her colleagues (who she constantly bothers). She wears her emotions on her sleeve and loves to talk, including to herself. She comes across as prissy or arrogant, when in reality, she’s a worrywart that wants everything in her life to play out the way she sees it in her head. Lei enjoys fancy teas, watching old cinema, and putting together complex outfits.

Background:

As the daughter of a Hunan-Hubei political ambassador and a Japanese weapons manufacturing mogul, Lei was born and raised in Japan, but frequently spent time in mainland China growing up. Despite their wealth, their parents lived frugally as to not spoil their daughters.

Lei attended college in Hunan-Hubei, and graduated with a degree in architecture. She then moved back to Japan in order to be with her longtime partner, Chihiro, but trade embargoes and food shortages brought upon by the Tangent War forced them to make plans to flee back to Hunan-Hubei shortly after.

Lei, who discovered she was newly pregnant, and Shui, afflicted by a waterborne illness and rapidly deteriorating, were placed on one of the last flights still commuting to Korea via a bribe from her parents to the airline. Most planes had been grounded due to a heavy increase in military presence in the surrounding waters. Chihiro and Lei’s parents stayed behind in hopes they could find another escape route once Lei and Shui were safe.

As their flight reached the edge of the Korean coastline, a nuclear warhead touched ground in Japan, the shockwave of which damaged the plane and caused it to crash. Lei and Shui survived the initial impact and were rescued, but Lei was later put on life support and not expected to make it through the night. In a rare act of diplomacy, Hunan-Hubei transferred her consciousness to a posthuman body before she died. Shui was paralyzed from the waist down from a spinal cord injury, but otherwise made a full recovery. Lei’s unborn child could not be saved. All who remained in Japan were declared deceased.

Lei occupies herself with her work and being a carer for Shui. Her and Shui have a close, but strained relationship, as Lei coddles her due to her disability and treats her like a child sometimes—Lei was transferred when she was 23 years old, and Shui, her little sister, is now older than her. It’s her way of coping with that and the loss of her child, albeit not a healthy one. They live together in Qingdao.

[ronaldofandom]

To Be or Not to Be

How about some angst to cut through all the fluff coming from this writer?

Plot: After 5 months in Adilabad, Jenny gets a message from her best friend inviting her to Hyderabad. Ram refuses to let Bheem go. Bheem refuses to let Jenny go alone. Leading to a heavy angsty conversation. Followed by some Bheemjenny angst.

No warnings. Mostly angst & some mild fluff. This is the first RamBheem confrontation I have ever written & I thoroughly enjoyed it!

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

Jenny read and re-read the words of the letter over and over again.

It was Carol’s writing. No doubt. She had also signed it with a code name that only the two of them knew. Of a secret society that they wanted to form in their childhood.

Her best friend, her oldest friend was trying to reach out to her. Jenny held the letter close to her chest, in a bout of nostalgia.

She hadn’t had any contact with her former world in over 5 months now. That part of her life felt like a distant, yet fond memory.

Jenny had started to accept that she might never be able to revisit that world again. It was her choice to pay that price for her love. To make her new world her only reality. The girl had worked tirelessly to make that happen.

Yet, on some long days and restless nights, a few memories creeped back. Engulfing her in a strange sadness. She fought that feeling with all her might, telling herself repeatedly that she had so much to be thankful for. But her twisted heart refused to comply. A piece of her was lost, left behind, never to return. And her wretched heart reminded her of that feeling frequently.

Therefore, when Bheem first showed her the letter, she instantly cried. Then read it a few times. Then cried some more. And then held it close to her heart.

Bheem just looked from a distance, understanding every emotion dancing on her face. He had immense admiration and appreciation for her sacrifice. For leaving everything behind. Just for love. He couldn’t do it. No matter how much he loved her, he couldn’t leave his home, his people behind to join her in a strange, new world.

She never told him how much she missed her former life. She didn’t need to. He could always tell when she stopped talking mid-sentence, changing the subject, not letting even a hint slip of her reminiscing. Just so he doesn’t feel guilty.

He always tried to make up in whatever ways he could. Like celebrating her festivals. Taking her on picnics. Trying to learn her language. Baking some of the goodies with her. Listening to her stories, her beliefs. Going down on one knee when he proposed to her. Giving her the love of not just a partner but of everyone else she had left behind too.

But those were small compensations. She had given more to their relationship than he ever could. That guilt & realisation never left him.

The two minutes she took to compose herself after reading the letter were another harsh reminder. The guilt came flooding back.

He sat her down on the cot, bent in front of her, holding on to her hands.

‘It is her, then?’

‘Yes, this is unmistakably Carol. But, how did she reach us?’

‘She left it addressed to me and you at a focal point of the revolution in Hyderabad. Our people keep visiting there, they brought it back today.’

Jenny nodded in understanding. It would have taken some effort and even risk on her friend’s part to try reaching her like this. Carol was the only one who knew that Jenny had left of her own will. With Bheem. She was the only one Jenny had left a message for.

‘So, what does the letter say?’

‘Her husband is posted in Hyderabad for a few months. They are staying away from the Cantonment area, close to the city. He is in Delhi for the next two weeks. She asked if….if I could come visit her. She also promised that she would send her staff on leave that day so no one would see us. She has also offered to come pick us up from anywhere in the city. Bheem?’

She squeezed his hands tightly, her eyes brimming with hope & enthusiasm.

‘You go to Hyderabad often. You have even taken me once. Can we…can we please go visit her? Just for a few hours?’

Bheem knew this was coming. And he froze. Unable to respond either way. But he didn’t want to burden her with his inner tribulations on the matter.

‘Can I take a little time to think about this, bangaram? Let’s discuss this in the evening?’

If she was disheartened, she didn’t show it.

‘Sure. Ofcourse. I understand.’

She said all the right things, without meeting his eyes. He kissed the top of her head and left the hut, leaving her alone with her restless thoughts.

Bheem went straight to Ram, who was just returning from training, with Sita in his tow.

They stopped in their tracks, sensing the urgency on Bheem’s face, and the curious way in which he was extending the letter towards them.

Ram read it first, with a poker face, then handed it to Sita.

While she read it, Ram paced around the area, deep in thought.

‘Tell me you are not going. Tell me, now.’

Bheem just hung his head, expecting this response.

‘Ram, maybe we should talk about it?’

Sita offered, looking at Bheem’s torn face, sensing his dilemma.

‘Talk? There is nothing to talk about. This could very well be a trap. He could have a whole unit waiting for him, to ambush him. This is too big a risk, Bheem. It make NO SENSE. You are NOT GOING.’

When Bheem’s face fell even more, Sita intervened.

‘Bheem, does Jenny trust this Carol person?’

Ram turned to Sita, about to express his displeasure at them even considering this any further. But she raised her palm towards him, shushing him for good. Ram started to pace again.

‘Wholeheartedly. She says this woman is her best friend. She says this woman is like her. How could this woman be bad then, Sita? How could she be evil?’

Bheem looked up then, after a long time. Pleading eyes, looking for someaffirmation from Sita.

Sita reached out and gently grasped his fidgeting hand.

‘I believe in Jenny’s judgement. Ofcourse I do. But have you guys considered that her friend may have been coerced to write this? Maybe someone found out Jenny came with you willingly. And this is a ploy to get to her? And…to you?’

Sita spoke with as much love as she could muster, while softly squeezing his hand.

Bheem had considered that possibility. He had considered every possibility since he sensed the situation.

‘She wrote a code word in the letter which only her and Jenny knew of. No one else knew about it. If she were coerced, and someone else dictated the letter to her, she would not have written that.’

Sita nodded in agreement. Ram nearly punched a nearby tree in frustration.

‘Oh look at you two trusting fools. You might believe this Carol’s intent, Sita, but I don’t. She may be a nice person or whatever. But what if she thinks she is trying to save Jenny from your clutches by doing this, huh Bheem? Maybe she thought it was a phase for Jenny and she would grow out of it soon. But that didn’t happen, did it? Jenny decided to stay. Maybe her friend is trying to give her an out? Trying to save her from a lifetime of distress that’s destined for her if she stays here with you? Maybe this is her way of protecting her. FROM YOU. WHAT ABOUT THAT???’

Ram stared at both of them intently, waiting for them to respond.

Sita couldn’t deny the logic in Ram’s words. They were cynical, yes. But he had more than enough reasons to be cynical in life.

Bheem met Ram’s eyes for the first time.

‘Well, that’s a risk I will have to take then.’

Ram stood toe to toe with Bheem, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him profusely.

‘WHY? Why do you HAVE TO do this? Why can’t we just forget about this letter and get on with our lives? Why take the risk at all? Why can’t Jenny make her peace with it? She made a choice, now she needs to stick with it.’

Bheem gawked at Ram, indignation written all over his face.

‘Are you serious? What do you mean she needs to stick with it? She is doing more than anyone could ask from her, expect from her. What else do you want her to do? She has given up everything. EVERYTHING. Just for me. Are you saying I should crush this tiny bit of hope she has gotten now? This brief window of meeting someone familiar, rekindling her memories - you are saying I should kill that chance too? Who knows when or if this will ever be possible again? How could I be such a monster to do this to her, Anna? HOW?’

Before Ram could burst into a rant, Sita grabbed his elbow, slightly shaking her head at him. Warning him to tread carefully.

Ram realised he wouldn’t win this battle. Bheem won’t stop Jenny from going. But that didn’t mean he would just let Bheem fall into a death trap.

‘Ok. Fine. It’s your call. But - let her go alone then. You don’t have to go with her. She can go with someone else from here who can drop her somewhere in the city and pick her up. YOU don’t have to put yourself at risk. Not for this, Bheem. Please, I am begging you.’

Sita closed her eyes and sighed inwardly, bracing herself for what was to come. She knew it was a moot point. The only two people Bheem would trust Jenny with, on such a long trip, were Ram & himself. And, Ram was not a viable alternative since he was a wanted man too.

Bheem said those exact words out loud to Ram.

Ram took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and considered all potential ways to address this situation. Sita’s hand was still firmly on his elbow, beseeching him to not lose his shit.

When Ram spoke next, his voice was calm. Eerily calm. Like a cold-blooded killer. Punctuating each word with pauses. Sending a shiver down Sita’s back.

‘If you go with her and they catch you, they will skin you alive. Gleefully. All right? They will leave your corpse hanging in the city centre, for days, making an example out of you. For anyone who dares to revolt against the mighty empire. Do you agree?’

‘If they catch me, yes. Remember, it took you to catch me last time.’

Bheem responded flatly, with equal calm. Sita just looked at the two men, wondering where this was going.

Ram chose to ignore the implied jibe and continued.

‘Fantastic. Now, if she goes alone and it’s a trap, what’s the worst that can happen? Think about it. No one will harm a hair on her head. She would be admonished, sure, but do you think anyone would dare to hurt a lady of her stature? Not a chance. At max, they will send her back to England. That’s fine. She will live. And so will you.’

Sita gasped in horror. She was sure Ram didn’t realise the enormity of what he had just said. She was even more sure it won’t go down well with Bheem. She didn’t even dare to look at Bheem at this point, just shutting her eyes again.

It took Bheem a few moments to believe what Ram had said. He was shaking from disbelief. Did his Anna not know his heart at all?

Then, he took a few steps back, getting enough distance from Ram, and glared straight into his eyes.

‘She will live. And so will I. But what kind of a life would that be for either of us? By that logic, Malli would have lived in that cage too with more amenities than here for sure. So, when she was taken against her wishes, caged against her wishes, I should have just left her there? I didn’t. So how could I let Jenny walk into this alone? How could I not be there for her, every step of the way? If they try to cage her, take her away, against her wishes, how could I not do everything in my power to keep her with me? If I was there for Malli, how is this any different?’

‘BECAUSE MALLI IS ONE OF US AND JENNY IS ONE OF THE….’

‘RAM!!!!!!!’

Sita’s voice cut through the mayhem.

Ram stopped in his tracks, the weight of his words hitting him like a truck.

Bheem didn’t flinch, but something changed in his eyes. Like something had died inside.

Sita rushed towards Bheem, grasping his shoulders, rubbing his arms. Trying to get him to look at her but Bheem stared straight at Ram.

‘Bheem. Bheem - he didn’t mean it like that. You know he didn’t.’

Bheem freed himself from her hold. Stepping further away from both of them. The physical distance a proxy to their emotional distance.

‘Let it be, Sita. I know what he meant. And you know what - Ram - you are right in a way. Jenny is not from here, no one here owes anything to her. No one, other than me. So I won’t put anyone else at risk for her. But no one, NO ONE, has the right to tell me to not put myself on the line for her. I will do that every day if I have to. I love her to death, and that is my burden to bear. No one will tell me that the burden is too high.’

Sita’s heart was breaking for Bheem. He was trying hard to hide his emotion but the lack of emotion from him itself was a big tell of how broken he was feeling inside.

Ram knew it was now or never. He could live with Bheem’s hate, if that meant Bheem would survive. What he couldn’t live with is knowing he didn’t do everything in his power to keep him safe, when he was about to walk into a fatal trap. Ram was convinced that’s what it was and was utterly distraught in failing to make Bheem see so.

Ram decided to double down, seeing that as the only remaining option.

‘So, you would pick her over us then? Over all of us? Is she the only one who loves you? Does our love for you amount to nothing? Your people, your friends, your tribe, your COUNTRY - you love her more than all of us? Is that it, Bheem? Answer me.’

Bheem couldn’t recognize the man in front of him anymore. The man who was mocking & berating his love.

He laughed a distant, bitter laugh.

‘It’s funny you say that. Because my people, my tribe, my country were safe when we had escaped. But still I went back to the jaws of death for YOU. For ONE person. All because of a stupid thing called love. Guess I was always stupid. Because doing things out of love is stupid in your books. Sadly, my love is like that. I can kill for it. I can die for it.’

The emotion in Sita’s eyes had spilled by now. She felt the pain of how these two were cutting each other, and themselves, with their words. She also felt the love behind the scathing declarations.

Ram stayed rooted to the spot, feeling like he may have gone too far but not knowing what to do about it. Despite the mayhem, he had half a mind to actually go & tell Jenny about his fears. If she had any inkling of the danger, she would put an end to all this. But Ram also knew that he would be crossing a line with Bheem which he may not be able to come back from.

Bheem retreated while still looking at Ram. Before walking away, he turned back one last time.

‘The woman who is not from here is the reason you are standing here right now. She put herself at risk to get those maps. But you knew that already. She begged & pleaded with me, while handing over the maps, to not go inside. That it would be too risky. That it could be the end of me. Very similar things to what you said today. But the difference is, she could also see why I just had to do it. Despite everything she had seen you do at the time, she could see why I would still go back for you. She understood. I expected the same from you, Ram. I didn’t think you would support me in doing this, which by the way is maybe not a trap at all. It could just be our paranoia. Your fears were still warranted. I didn’t expect you to agree, I expected you to understand. Like she did.’

With those parting words, and one final nod to Sita, he walked away. Without turning back. Leaving a stunned Ram and distraught Sita behind.

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

Part 2 will be BheemJenny in Hyderabad. Do let me know what you feel about the story so far and if a second part would interest you :)

@irisesforyoureyes @rambheem-is-real @thewinchestergirl1208 @eremin0109 @eenadu-varthalu @rorapostsbl @yehsahihai @budugu @maraudersbitchesassemble @justmeand-myinsight @rambheemisgoated @rosayounan @jrntrtitties @obsessedtoafault @rambheemlove @jjwolfesworld @alikokinav @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @dumdaradumdaradum @lovingperfectionwonderland

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@orangey-orange @ariel-seagull-wings @atlinmerrick @carminavulcana

[beardedmrbean]

Aug. 5 (UPI) -- Bangladesh's embattled prime minister, Sheikh Hasina, resigned Monday and fled the country after protesters stormed her official residence in the capital amid a growing revolt that began over quotas for government jobs in which hundreds of mostly protesters have died.

The announcement from the head of the army, Gen. Waker-uz-Zaman, came after security forces were overwhelmed by thousands of people incensed by a violent government crackdown descending on the Sher-e-Bangla Nagar area of Dhaka, setting cars and offices ablaze.

Footage circulating online shows protesters celebrating inside Hasina's residence, removing furniture and elsewhere in the city trying to tear down a statue of her father, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, former prime minister and leader of the country's independence movement, who was assassinated in 1975.

Promising the formation of an interim government, Zaman pleaded with demonstrators to call off their protests.

"Whatever demands you have, we will fulfil and bring back peace to the nation, please help us in this, stay away from violence," said Zaman who promised the military would also back off.

"The military will not fire at anyone, the police will not fire at anyone, I have given orders."

Hasina arrived by helicopter in India at a military airbase 17 miles east of Delhi on Monday evening with the BBC reporting that she may be en route to London, citing unconfirmed reports.

A spokesman for British Prime Minister Keir Starmer said Monday that he wanted to see urgent action to "ensure democracy" won out -- but made no mention of Hasina coming to Britain or any discussions regarding where she might go into exile.

"The right to peaceful protest must be protected and never subjected to violence, and we call on the authorities to release all peaceful protesters and ensure due process is followed for those charged and prosecuted," he added.

"I hope that swift action is taken to ensure that democracy prevails and accelerate the process towards peace and security to people in Bangladesh."

Hasina's son, Sajeeb Wazed Joy, said she had been considering resigning for the past 24 hours and had left the country for her own safety at the insistence of her family.

He rejected the accusations leveled at the 76-year-old of outstaying her welcome after four terms totaling more than two decades during which she gradually morphed from the democratic icon catapulted into office in a people power uprising into an authoritarian leader amid crackdowns on dissent and allegations of graft.

"She has turned Bangladesh around. When she took over power it was considered a failing state. It was a poor country. Until today it was considered one of the rising tigers of Asia. She's very disappointed."

In Dhaka, demonstrators ignored an evening curfew as unrest and looting continued into the night with demonstrators breaching the gates and damaging the residence of Home Minister Asaduzzaman Khan in the Dhanmondi area of the capital where smoke was seen coming from the building.

Protesters torched the city's Mujibur museum.

Northeast of Dhaka, 150 miles away in Sylhet, the offices of the deputy commissioner and superintendent of police and the homes of several councilors were attacked.

Hasina's resignation came a day after more than 90 people were killed Sunday during clashes between anti-government protesters and police -- 13 of whom were among those killed after thousands of people attacked a police station in the northwestern district of Sirajganj.

Sunday's casualties brought the death toll to 280 since early July when student protests over the partial reinstatement by the courts of civil service recruitment quotas -- where sought-after government jobs were reserved for supporters of Hasina's ruling Awami League -- erupted into wider, and violent, anti-government unrest.

Government crackdown efforts escalated from tear gas and rubber bullets to live fire, curfews and Internet blackouts bringing hundreds of thousands more people onto the streets demanding change and ultimately Hasina's resignation.

Student organizers had called Sunday for a national non-cooperation government boycott under which people would refuse to pay taxes and utility bills.

[ofxbutcher]

JACOB BUTCHER ( CORTEON MOORE ) is a TWENTY-EIGHT year-old TRAVEL PHOTOGRAPHER in NEW DELHI, INDIA. They were brought under Richard’s care when they were only TWENTY-EIGHT years old. They are known as THE CHARMER because they are EASY-GOING but also AVOIDANT.

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Jacob Anthony Butcher

Nickname(s): Mostly just goes by 'Butcher' but JB and J are not uncommon

Date of Birth: May 15th 1976

Age: 28

Occupation: Travel Photographer (Travel enthusiast in general and extreme sports participator/admirer)

Current Residence: He was in Australia before deciding to make a stop at New Delhi on his way back to Woodrow, however he staid in India longer than he originally planned due to fun and work colliding a little too well.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Hair: Curly, frizzy, untrimmed atm

Eyes: Light brown

Height: 5'9

Notable Features: Vitiligo over his hands, and barely noticeable by his right eye and bottom right of his chin. Scars all over his body acquired through sports and travel, a dashing smile of course...

PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR:

Strengths: Determined when intrigued, loyal to a fault, charismatic

Weaknesses: Lonely, avoidant and lets his own stubbornness get in the way of things

Quirks: Rubs the back of his neck when nervous, left eyebrow raises and does a little twitch whenever he's lying (only a few of the wards are actually aware of this -- he, himself, is not)

Vices: Will try anything that seems 'exciting' to him, no matter how dangerous. Smokes cigarettes and occasionally does drugs. Rarely drinks.

INTEREST & HOBBIES:

Interests: Jacob has had a plethora of interests since childhood. From reading and acting out fantasy novels, to creating his own stories. From riding a bike, to quickly becoming interested in driving a helicopter. Driving, diving, surfing, parachuting, climbing, name a sport or an activity and he has likely tried it. His interests are heavy on the 'outdoors' and learning new things or polishing old skills.

Hobbies: Although he's a very physically active person, and those would certainly include most of his hobbies. Jacob finds that his 'relaxing' time is where his genuine hobbies truly flourish. He writes fantasy a lot, often inspired by his real experiences, and he is a photographer professionally, always pushing himself further to capture beautiful things on camera. He is hoping to collaborate with National Geographic in the future, but he has never told Richard about it out of fear that the old man would try and pull more strings for him. Besides those two hobbies, he also enjoys cooking and pottery a considerable amount.

Special Skills/Talents: He's actually got a lot of these due to his constant participation in weird and extreme sports. Perhaps the biggest skill/talent is staying alive.

BECOMING A WARD

Jacob has a very difficult time remembering much of his childhood. There are only few, very few vivid memories he held of his mother. Of a yellow closet with drawings stuck on it. And fire, smell of fire late at night as the screams echoed in the distance. Whenever he would ask Richard about his past, about his parents, about circumstances which led him to Woodrow -- he was met with a dismissive response. "They couldn't take care of you boy, you're better off here." and that was as far as he'd ever get. Over the years, he had tried to pry more information out of the old man, but he was never successful. Even when he tried to take matters into his own hands, and seek answers outside of Richards little safety bubble -- he came up with nothing. There was no records of a 'Jacob Anthony Butcher' to be found. So he assumed his name had been changed. His family was either incapable or unwilling to take care of him, and he was to take life for what it was and live on. Move on. And let the questions of his childhood vanish.

LIFE AS A WARD

Jacob has always had a knack for people, a longing for life, for opportunities, for adventure. As a child, he would spend hours lost in fantasy worlds, imagining himself riding dragons - or slaying them. Roping other wards into playing soldiers or vampires or whatever his latest obsession would have been. He would go as far as to make his own stories, makeshift his own toys, skate and run and swim around the Woodrow grounds without a care in the world. It is his genuine nature to be easy-going about things in life, and that always made people drawn to him. Everybody likes good company, and Jacob just so happens to like everybody. There was never much others could do to put him off, because above all, Jacob truly believed, as he continues to believe, that people had their reasons. For the good things, the bad things, and everything in-between. And nothing, not a damn thing was ever personal. So he took no offence, and he adapted, he forgave, he did his best to be there for others. His loyalty was always easily acquired, but not quite as easily lost. All that said, Jacob still struggled growing up. Mostly with poor focus and hyperactivity, and he often felt 'dumb' when participating in lectures with other wards, or having to take extra classes even after school to catch up with them. It did take a toll on his confidence at a certain point in life, but he learnt to hide it behind a nice smile and a pretence of 'not caring' which worked out for him in the end. As a young ward he found most joy in simply hanging out with his peers, and even more in getting Mrs. Tristans forehead vein to pump rather visibly. As Jacob grew older, he didn't grow more serious. But he developed a dose of charm inspired by the confidence he gained through surrounding himself with others. He knew that people gravitated towards him, and he found comfort in always having company, in meeting new people, trying out new things. So when the time came to pursue further education, he instead devised a plan to travel. To see the world. To truly live. It may have taken Richard some (a lot of) convincing, but eventually he agreed to let the boy go. Ever since, he has hardly stopped. Always one foot out the door. Always looking for the next rush of adrenaline, next adventure. Although his charm gets him through a lot in life, and allows him to form deeper attachments, he is not the one to settle down. To dream of a house with a picket fence, a family, a single partner for the rest of his life. His spirit runs wild, and he's always in his happiest when he's on the go. Perhaps, a part of him wonders at times if he's truly in a state of constant movement due his deep love for it, or because he is perhaps running. One thing is certain, he is incapable of staying alone, of standing still, only what would he be trying to outrun? At the end of the day, the only thing he actually had, was himself.

AESTHETIC

Butcher is mostly dressed casual and somehow always covered in dirt. This is why he rarely invests in any expensive or formal clothes, they are certain to get ruined. Comfort is the key, whereas aesthetics are more of an after-thought. Still, he is often seen wearing a silver necklace, whose story of acquirement always changes when asked about. And he also tends to wear a braided bracelet one of his fellow wards had gifted him shortly after his arrival at Woodrow. It's the sentiment, of course, more than genuine liking for the bracelet itself. He owns two black suits, one for weddings and the other for funerals. And a few neat black shirts and tops to match a pair of his 'clean' jeans whenever he needs to dress up. Butcher's also particularly fond of his leather jacket which went through hell and back with him and somehow still holds up pretty well.

EDUCATION

Jacob chose to attend a public school after his primary education, but Richard wouldn't allow him to go private as he needed more effort and guidance with education then other kids due to his hyperactivity and lack of focus. This was also the first and the only time Jacob and Richard had a real argument. Following this, Butcher spent the next couple of weeks moping around the house and giving an unusual dose of attitude to anyone he came to contact with, but then got over it when Mrs. Tristan properly explained why it was all for the best in the end and how he will soon be done with school and off to pursue his dreams. Of course, she was right, and his focus was soon somewhere else. But once that the school truly ended, and it was time to head off to University, he used his lack of choice on the matter to further convince Richard to let him travel instead of continuing further education. Ever the academic, it was tough to convince Richard that this was the right path for him, so they agreed on somewhat of a 'gap year' at first, which eventually became full-time travelling and working on the go.

EXTRACURRICULARS 

Jacob participated in any extracurricular he could get his hands on. Even the ones he wasn't particularly interested in. He just enjoyed spending time with other wards, so if they had an interest of their own and wanted someone to tag along -- he would happily do it.

THEIR LIFE NOW

He has been travelling, mostly. The longest he ever staid in one place was a year before moving on to his next adventure. Most recently, he had climbed Mt Everest, his lifelong dream, and after that he moved on to a semi-professional surfing competitions in Australia where he did quite well. He considered staying in Australia for a while, but decided to head back to Woodrow instead as it has been months since he last visited. On the way though, he stopped in India where the Krishna Janmashtami festival was just around the corner and decided to stay for a while as well. He was still in New Delhi when he heard of Richard's passing.

[myblackbox]

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[academicgangster]

God fucking help me, I'm thinking about staying in Delhi long-term.

I have lots of time to consider it. Lots of time to make up my mind and even change it back and forth. Notably, I haven't been here long enough to have the urge to go watch a movie alone at night - which I absolutely cannot do here, for safety reasons; I'm insane but not that insane. I haven't been here long enough to really start pining for the sea. Both of those will happen, and I'll have to figure out how to deal. But I have been here long enough to relish the sheer amount of space there is, both for storage and just to exist in. I have been here long enough to start having feelings about cars again, as I do every damn time I land up here. And I've known for a while that I'm so burnt out it's a massive relief to be here with dad, who has a literal passion for admin and keeps the house running and stuff getting done without my having to worry about most anything but recovery.

It is, however, freezing, and I skipped the worst of the winter months. Boy. Menstruation was hell in an even worse way than it usually is. My knees are super fucked up for reasons unknown but likely related to the cold. I truly don't know if I can do another winter here, especially if I get a job here and have to leave the house to head to an office.

[punishabel]

But we weren't the kind of friends to lose contact despite all that. Akash went to Delhi to continue his Higher Secondary, he hated it over there. All kinds of new people, mostly racist towards him, but in any kind of place you went to, there was bound to be that initial discrimination, soon he had made some good friends and was starting to have some slight fun although the barely bearable heat and the recent heatwaves had him crying tears of blood at night.

The bastard really missed me and Bishu, of course we grew up in the same neighborhood but only became friends way later in 6th grade.

Summer really hit him bad this time.

He tried to find at least one good thing that Delhi had going for itself, but sadly the poor guy could not come up with even one thing, it was simultaneously both saddening and hilarious.

Myself being in Guwahati, proudly reputed as being one of Northeast India's most boiling cities, I could relate to him. We would often call and ask which city had it worse in terms of temperature. Guwahati lost a few times but was off with just one 3 or 4 degrees.

He really really missed Shillong and his old house, our childhood base of operations.

Bishu on the other hand had it easy since he went to Bangalore, the Tech City situated in the southern peninsula. Weather there was much like Shillong, "Very very pleasant and welcoming" in his own words, miles off from Delhi, though he got sick and caught a fever as soon as he reached the place he was going to stay at. Must've been the variety of new microbes entering his body.

We all had summer break for approximately 2 months and in the deepest and most unused corners of Akash's brain, rose an idea. And before we knew it, we were standing infront of our most cherished meeting spot, Akash's infamous house. The pungent smell that defined his home, though nostalgic, always remained a mystery to me.

Even after four years, I still can't seem to forget his house.

Me and Akash were just chilling inside his house, lounging on the worn-out bamboo couches and reminiscing about our old days. The air was thick with laughter and inside jokes, echoing through the familiar rooms that held so many memories. Bishu brought out a dusty old board game from his house, it was Ludo, and soon we were engrossed in a heated competition, teasing and cussing at each other mercilessly with every move. The hours slipped away unnoticed as we caught up on each other's lives, sharing tales of triumphs and setbacks since graduation. It was a moment frozen in time, where worries faded and bonds grew stronger amidst the oddly comforting scent of Akash's dilapidated wooden floor.

But suddenly, ours phones started to vibrate at the exact same time, almost in harmony. The sudden notification sound and intense vibration startled all of us. There appeared to be texts from the NDCAI

The messages read "Citizens are strictly prohibited from going outdoors and if you're outside head home immediately. this text is for your safety. Stay inside your houses and do not let any suspicious or strange individuals inside your houses.

National Disease Control Authority of India"

They were texts from the government. Normally messages that came from the government bodies were very detailed

with precise instructions but this text sounded very abrupt and seemed to be very much written in a hurry.

We get curious and turn on the news and we were blasted with reports of people panicking and screaming and right then...... a cameraman pointed to a scene where maddened people were eating and attacking others, it was a scene of blood and carnage everywhere and for some reason the channel operators didn't censor all the gore happening on the streets.

It was the doing of a zombie virus that was plaguing the streets of lower Shillong, it was called the Avita virus and there were more than 5800+ cases of infection, in one single day. It was insane.

Every major country had been the victim of Avita, there were infections everywhere. Scientists were also baffled as the RNA structure of this virus was impossibly unpredictable, they couldn't get a hold of Avita.

The three of us get dazed from watching the carnage unfold, I instantly reach for my phone to call my parents, but as I dialled the call, I was hit by a robotic voice saying communications are down for the network service provider.

It was to be expected, I couldn't imagine the number of people trying to call their loved ones to make sure they're okay.

I looked over Akash and Bishu and they had the same problem. It was incredibly frustrating, I wanted to know how my parents were doing and above all if they were safe.

All the screaming and panic from the news was starting to disconnect me from reality before Bishu turned it off.

I could see visible panic and uncertainty from Akash and Bishu, it was to be expected as they too must have wanted to know about the safety of their parents and siblings.

"Man we gotta figure something out guys" I said.

"No way this shit is real. A zombie virus seriously? What is the army doing?" Said Bishu.

He was visibly confused. He had every right though, seeing a zombie apocalypse unfold in front of our eyes was as unreal as the word unreal could define it.

"All our parents live in scarcely populated rural areas so they should be relatively safe." I said to reassure them.

Akash sighed.

"I guess you're right, my property in Manipur has very few people near us, but you know, still worried about my family man." said Akash.

I understood it all too well because that was case with me too.

Akash was trying to take it calmly but I could see a trickle of sweat on his forehead. Worry and panic are contagious things much like a virus.

"Fuck it man, we will survive. We ain't dying no dogs death. These undead fuckers can come to all they want, we'll send them back to hell as many times as they want. And don't you fuckers dare die on me now, I need y'all to think of yourselves as gods if you have to but make absolutely no fucking mistakes, make every decision with everyone's survival in mind. YOU WILL FUCKING SURVIVE AND THRIVE IN THIS WORLD!" I exclaimed.

I don't know where that speech came from, but at that moment I felt it, no we felt it together, something awakened in the three of us, a change that we all furiously wanted, but it had to be suppressed because of the peaceful good times.

This was what we always wanted, an apocalypse. A test of our wits and will, a challenge to push ourselves to the extremes of any moral, physical or psychological dilemmas. We dreamt of surviving an apocalypse. We will survive. We will protect each other until death, even after death.

"Guys now who wants to live and kick zombie ass?!" I cheered.

"We do!²"

They both forgot about their worries and cheered back

"Then now lets check what we have in stock in the house, check for any food and some weapons too, wait I saw a sack of potatoes Akash, how old are they?" I inquired while trying to distract myself from my thoughts.

"We just bought that sack 4 days ago, my parents wanted to take it along to Manipur but it was too much of a hassle" answered Akash.

The moment Bishu heard the word weapon he had a silly grin on his face. He was always into weapons, any kind, melee weapons such as aluminium bats, kukris, traditional swords from Meitei culture, he even crafted ranged weapons such as slingshots, bows and arrows. He was an incredibly crafty guy.

The houses of Akash and bishu were connected to each other, Akash's house being directly above Bishu's house. Though my house about 30 steps away. Very near.

There were a few knives in Akash's house but not the kind we could defend ourselves with but thankfully he had a few small shovels in his storage room. There were lots of useful things stored in the room, things like tarps, many buckets, hammers, axes, wood and planks and more.

"Aye Bishu, what happened to all those weapons you collected?" I asked.

"Shit man, I sent them all to Manipur, who'd know there would be a damned zombie apocalypse waiting for us man." He answered with remorse.

"Ah man, its alright, you still know how to make them right?" i said

"Yep its all in my brain. I can craft them again if i get the materials."

" We'll be counting on you for that then."

He flashes a confident smile.

I had two Kukris in my house as well as tons of firewood, I also had a 500 litre tank of water filled to half, for now we didn't have any worries for food, water or shelter.

While we were planning and looking at our inventory, there was a loud scream outside, probably of a middle aged woman, we ran to the front door and before we could pull the curtains to see what was happening, there was blood being splattered everywhere on the front porch and there it was, our first encounter with The Mad a.k.a. the zombies.

These 2 infected "people" if we could call them that were tearing this old lady's legs apart.

Akash was about to bolt outside because that woman was his neighbour who lived just beside him.

He was a brave guy, and I always admired that courage of his to shoot towards any kind of problem without a care for himself, a Hero if we could call him.

But just before his hand could reach for the doorknob, I stopped him. He gave me a questioning look, it was to be expected. I pointed to the woman's legs, Akash after catching a glimpse of the woman's legs was horrified. Her legs were practically none-existent from the Mad feeding on them, we could see her femur poking out of her right thigh. Akash appeared to be deeply saddened probably because he grew up seeing that woman as an older sister.

It was regrettable but any hope of her living was gone.

Akash composed himself and said "Although we cant save her life anymore, we can grant her life a peaceful end."

His determination exorcised any hesitation Bishu and I had. A brave lad he was and we had to honour his decision.

He opened the front door and ran towards the half alive woman.

we followed in suit to protect his back.

Akash was strong guy. He never boasted his strength and was always humble. He could give his literal all to have his people's back.

And with one swing of that blunt decade old shovel, he severed the head of the first zombie who appeared to be a middle aged man. His hands were trembling because even though whatever he put an end to could hardly be called a human anymore, whoever that zombie was, it still used to be someone's father and husband.

After finishing off the zombie, his eyes met the old woman's eyes. Her retinas were starting to dilate.

While he was staring at the motionless woman, the other zombie lunged at him, but was repelled by a straight kick from Bishu. The zombie appeared to be of the same age as the other zombie and made a strangely human shriek as it crashed onto the asphalt.

"YOU BRAINLESS FUCKER! What the hell are you just standing there for?" said an enraged Bishu.

"Give him some slack man." I said to Bishu as i finished off the fallen zombie.

"...akash.." muttered the old woman, she was barely holding onto consciousness.

His lips quivered.

The old woman didn't have any children, her husband too died in a housefire. She saw Akash as her own son and he saw her as another mother figure.

"....aunty why did you go outside?..." said Akash, while tears started to well up in the corners of his eyes.

"...Beverly..called in a hurry saying that her husband was acting.....very strange." said the woman as her voice got increasingly softer and quiet.

Mustering the last bit of her strength, the old woman moaned

"...than..k.....you kids." before her body went limp.

It was a grieve-stricken goodbye.

"God fucking damnit." sweared Bishu at the absurdity of this forsaken world.

Akash bit his lower lip as he looked away from the old woman.

I embraced him, not knowing what to say in a situation as dire as this.

"Let's bury her in a nice and quiet place, okay?" I told him.

"Yeah okay." he replied.

As Akash went inside, me and Bishu investigated the zombies for anything that could come in handy. The male zombie had a phone, a pack of Marlboro cigs, and 150rs.

The female zombie didn't have anything useful on her except for tattered rags.

We didn't notice it before but there was a thin trail of blood reaching from, the old woman's body to the what would be the old pair's house.

I made a mental note to go check it out later. For now we needed to head back inside but as we were heading back, I saw movement in my peripheral vision.

In the blink of a eye the old woman's body began showing erratic movement similar to a person experiencing a seizure. We were mortified, seeing a phenomenon like the dead coming back to life was so absurd to comprehend, yet, there she was, rising to what seemed to be an imitation of life.

I don't know how it was possible, she appeared to have died from blood loss, how could a body devoid of blood even move?

No use applying common sense to this situation.

Her body was moving in ways not quite human. In fact, I don't know in what way any part of her could be considered human.

I sure was glad Akash wasn't here to witness her try walking with just half a leg. In a flash, "it" realized how it's moving was inefficient, and quickly adapted to use both her hands as well.

This virus was adapting at an alarming rate.

Before we could see her become more and more inhumane, we put an end to an end to her now miserable life. It was getting late so we decided to head back home and check how Akash was doing. As we entered through the front door, we saw Akash peeling some potatoes and onions. We

[oscenox-rishikesh]

Discover Little Amsterdam: Rishikesh’s Premier Riverside Cafe

If you’re planning a visit to Rishikesh and searching for the perfect spot to unwind, indulge in delectable cuisine, and soak in breathtaking views, look no further than Little Amsterdam Cafe. Nestled near the Laxman Jhula Bridge and conveniently located near Tapovan bypass, this gem, managed by OSCENOX, is a must-visit destination that caters to every taste and preference.

A Culinary Delight

At Little Amsterdam, we take pride in offering an extensive menu that caters to both vegetarians and non-vegetarians. Our diverse selection features everything from traditional Delhi cuisine to innovative dishes inspired by Asian, Continental, Italian, Mexican, and Chinese culinary traditions. Whether you’re in the mood for a hearty main course or a light snack, our fresh ingredients and traditional cooking methods ensure every bite is a taste sensation.

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Our riverside cafe is not just about great food; it’s about creating memorable experiences. Little Amsterdam stands out as one of the best cafes in Rishikesh for couples looking for a romantic date night. Imagine dining under the palm trees with the serene Ganges River as your backdrop, while enjoying a vibrant atmosphere enhanced by our on-site nightclub.

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Whether you’re a college student seeking a lively hangout, a corporate professional looking for a relaxing meal, or a family wanting a fun outing, Little Amsterdam offers something for everyone. Our venue is designed to cater to diverse needs with features like:

Wi-Fi for those who want to stay connected

Pet-friendly policy to include your furry friends

Ample parking for your convenience

DJ Parties to add a touch of excitement to your visit

Friendly staff ready to ensure a pleasant dining experience

Scenic Splendour

The cafe’s location offers stunning scenic river views that create a tranquil setting for guests. The combination of mouthwatering dishes, a mountain view, and a lively musical ambiance provides an uplifting and rejuvenating experience.

Visit Us Today

Little Amsterdam Cafe is open daily from 10:00 AM to 11:00 PM. We invite you to come and experience why we’re considered the best cafe in Rishikesh. Our hygienic, healthy, and budget-friendly options make us a popular choice among locals and travellers alike.

Address: LA Cafe by Oscenox Swiss Cottage by Oscenox Bypass Road, near Laxman Jhula, Tapovan Rishikesh, Uttarakhand 249192

Online Booking: Book Now

Come join us at Little Amsterdam, where every meal is an adventure, and every visit is a memory in the making. We look forward to welcoming you!

[ghumindiaghum]

Embark on a fascinating and adventurously colourful Rajasthan tour with Ghum India Ghum. 13N/14D tour package starting from $799/INR 57999pp Destinations: delhi-agra-abhaneri-ranthambhore-jaipur-samode-bundi-chittorgarh-dungarpur-udaipur includes - Transfers + Local Sightseeing + nights stay + breakfast + dinner Click - https://www.ghumindiaghum.com/colourful-rajasthan-package.php Call- Whatsapp - +918860139194 Email- info@ghumindiaghum.com

[hum-suffer]

Aaj jane ki zid na karo

As he leans back on the bean bag, Amish takes a moment to look at Rati.

She's gorgeous, he's known that since he saw her smirking, deliberately making noise from her payal to scare their mutual friends while one of them told a horror story. That was the third time he saw her, the first time he put a name to the face that was almost always scrunched in concentration.

But tonight, on a Goa beach, Rati is something that her namesake would be jealous of. Her hair is tied in a bun, she didn't want sand in it, and the buckle holding her hair is the one he bought for her. Her eyes are closed and he knows that she's one step away from falling asleep on him but he doesn't care. With her eyes closed, he gazes at the crowfeet at the corners of her eyes, an easy testimony of her ever present laughter. He looks at the red breakout on her jaw, he looks at the scar just at her chin. He looks at the shirt she's wearing, which fits her perfectly.

(It used to be his. She had it once for Holi and it never came back into his house.

His mother thinks that he lost the shirt at swimming practice. He doesn't correct her.)

Her legs are propped into his lap and one of his hands is covering the very payal that brought his attention to her, while the other has an Americano. Extremely inappropriate for night time, but. But he wants to stay awake.

He knows he will never get to see her like this again, probably. Moonlit and extraordinarily relaxed, this Rati was a contrast of the too much energy and too less patience mixture that she was in the day.

Anish looked away at the ocean. It was pretty, he thought mindlessly, the cafe lights above them making it better for his vision. But no ocean will ever compare to Rati.

"Amish," she calls him, eyes still closed and voice drowsy. He can physically see her struggle to flutter open her eyes. "Set your sadness aside, for tonight."

Her voice isn't as mocking as it would have been at any other time. He knows why that is. She's gonna leave Goa soon, her family way too angry on her decision to fall for him. A part of him understood their reaction. There was nothing special in him, nothing that someone as awe inspiring as Rati should like.

They were leaving for Delhi tomorrow.

Their last night on the beach, in the Midnight cafe and Rati wanted him to keep his melancholy aside for once.

He could never say to no to her.

As far as he cares, it's the last night that Earth will look beautiful. He will do right by whoever he marries, he knows his honour, and she will make sure to be honourable to whoever she marries. But this is their last night together, sitting on the same bean bags, drinking coffee and tea toghether, trying to be awake. Trying to watch old songs on that horrendous TV that the cafe has, doing just about anything to stay awake.

Trying to capture night in their hands.

And as the world caves in on his chest and lungs, Amish buries his feet in the sand and passes the Americano to her. She's the one between them that enjoys coffee. It's become routinely for him and he's forgotten just what is enjoyable in it. He likes her honey mixed lemonades better.

Rati smiles at him and he wishes he wasn't looking at her right now. The smile makes him want to take her in his arms and run now. She's melancholic too, but it's easier to just stick to their routine and call him the melancholic one. She loves him too and she's losing him too.

(With the way the grief of their impending doomsday creeped on him, he thinks she lost him before he will lose her. And oh, what he wouldn't give to have that year back, to love her better.)

He feels tears in his eyes spring at the way she's smiling. That's not her smile. That's his smile, the smile he smiles when he's watching Veer Zara and trying not to cry. When he's watching Lamhe and crying. When he's reading Richard Siken and crying. Whenever he's crying. This is his smile.

"I've infected you with my sadness, it seems." He says, because he needs to speak before the air turns colder and the night turns to day. He needs to speak before he never speaks of how much he loves her.

Rati scoffs, and somehow that sound is tear stained in her throat. "It's a love borne disease, this sadness."

He chuckles. Rati will never accept it, but between them, she's the better poet. She's the poem he wishes he could claim for himself. He wishes their ballad wasn't ending.

She takes a sip of the Americano. "Cheers," she says, lifts her hand in the air halfway,"to our final night together."

"To doomsday," he says instead, just to be contradictory.

The alarm clock on Rati's mobile rings, shrill and loud and everything he hates. He set it himself, and it's ringing near his feet, but he hates it still. He wishes he could trap time between the ice left on the empty lemonade glass at Rati's lap.

He snoozes the alarm.

She moves her feet slowly, her payal is much better than the alarm and much worse. She's leaving. She hands him the Americano back and the lemonade glass replaces her phone at his feet. She stands.

Amish follows her lead and stands too.

He swallows, and all the words he wants to say to her die in his throat. Rati smiles—his smile, his smile, his smile— and holds his empty hand anyway.

His lungs feels like it's burning and his eye lids are heavy now as he watches her.

"Goodnight, my love," Rati whispers between them and tears fill her eyes too.

He doesn't reply. He can't reply. He doesn't have words. He doesn't want to know what a goodbye means. This is supposed to be cordial, she can't leave without him acknowledging her leaving. He never wants to say goodbye.

As aaj jane ki zid na karo plays on that horrible tv, Rati's smile changes. It turns from his to hers, the upside down smile. Amish commits the look to memory; Rati, with her kajal smudged, her hair falling from the bun, cheeks lifting in her smile, jaw red and a rug burn on her forehead with the dancing ocean as the back drop.

As Farida Khanum sings jaan jaati hai jab uth ke jaate ho hum, Rati begins to let her hand slip from his.

He holds his tongue again, for he knows he can never say goodbye to her.

"Goodnight, my love." He whispers between them and it's Rati now that swallows. Her hand leaves his completely and he feels abandoned and cold. She shoulders her bag, licks her lips and sighs before she turns to leave.

She keeps looking back. He can't look away from her.

He stares at the pathway until he sees her no more. Aaj jane ki zid na karo plays in the background like a mockery of his love.

[dschostel]

Experience Home Away from Home: Hostel Life at Delhi City School

Beyond its exceptional academics and vibrant campus life, Delhi City School Top CBSE School in Delhi NCR takes pride in providing a nurturing and supportive home away from home for its boarding students. The hostel facilities are designed to offer a warm and welcoming environment where students can flourish academically, socially, and emotionally.

Comfortable Living Quarters:

The hostel at Delhi City School is more than just a place to stay; it's a space where students can relax, recharge, and forge lifelong friendships. The living quarters are thoughtfully designed to ensure students feel comfortable and at ease. Each room is furnished with cozy beds, study desks, ample storage space, and other essential amenities to create a conducive environment for learning and rest.

Nutritious and Delicious Meals:

One of the highlights of hostel life at Delhi City School is undoubtedly the delicious and nutritious meals served to students. The school understands the importance of healthy eating habits in supporting students' overall well-being and academic performance. Hence, the hostel mess provides a variety of wholesome and balanced meals prepared under hygienic conditions, catering to diverse tastes and dietary preferences.

Round-the-Clock Supervision:

Parents can have peace of mind knowing that their children are under the watchful care of experienced wardens and staff members round the clock. The hostel team at Delhi City School ensures the safety, security, and well-being of students always. Whether it's academic support, emotional guidance, or simply lending a listening ear, the hostel staff are always there to offer support and encouragement to students whenever needed.

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Conclusion:

At Delhi City School, hostel life is not just about accommodation; it's about creating a nurturing and supportive environment where students can thrive and flourish. Top CBSE Boarding School with Hostel Facilities in Delhi NCR. With comfortable living quarters, nutritious meals, round-the-clock supervision, homely atmosphere, and personalized support, the hostel facilities at Delhi City School ensure that every boarding student feels safe, valued, and at home. For parents seeking a caring and enriching residential experience for their children, Delhi City School's hostel facilities are indeed a home away from home.

[blossommoonwrites]

NOCTURNAL CANDLES: Mayblade 2024, day 3 - Candles

Series: Sweet Dreams Fandom: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade Genre: General/Romance Setting: Delhi, India, and Kai's dream. Characters: Kai Hiwatari, Julia Fernandez Pairings: Kai/Julia Rating: T Summary: The candle's flame may go off, but the radiance and glow remain.

FFN | AO3

The Bladebreakers were on a trip to India. All except Kai were in their rooms, sleeping peacefully. The dual-haired wandered in the streets of the subcontinent's capital. It was Winter in Delhi. The chill air flirted with his scarf, which fluttered wildly against the breeze. He bought some coffee and sipped on it slowly. His glances showered the vast sky that was infinite and beautiful. The mist blinded some parts of the city, but Kai was able to manage and walk past them. The culture was rich, yet some states had a poor economy. He stood in front of the Indian gate and saw the surroundings. Long walks were a hassle for Takao, but not for Kai. He felt relaxed and content after a couple of months.

"Hmm." Kai closed his eyes and enjoyed the peace coming from inside. He braced his scarf further to protect himself from the cold.

He turned and saw someone familiar. He knew her but never talked to her for once. She is none other than Julia, the captain of F-sangre. She was wearing a trenchcoat with her messy hair fluttering in the wind. Kai was never into girls, yet he found her pretty. Of course, he doesn't have anything romantic for her. Julie gave a side-eye and her jaw dropped. Kai quickly turned back, pretending not to see her.

"I know it was you, Kai. I never expected to see you here," she remarked and walked to him.

"I clarified if it was you, nothing more," Kai walked away from her. Julia was stunned by his attitude. She seethed and said, "You have no manners for sure."

Kai stopped along his trance and turned back. He gave a 'hnn' before he started again. "You do know about me, after all. But, there is so much you still aren't aware of," he smirked and walked off. She can never understand guys like Kai, or even guys in general.

Julia walked back to the hotel she was staying in. Coincidentally, it was the same place where the Bladebreakers were staying. She saw Kai reporting to the reception before he walked to the room. His room was somewhere on the second floor. Hers was on the fourth floor.

Kai knocked on the door several times, but Takao was fast asleep. Kai facepalmed. He informed Takao that he would be out. It was his fault too, he should've thought twice before roaming out. He gave up. He decided to sleep on the corridors until Takao would show up.

"Your roomie is not opening the door, pathetic," Julia mocked. She smirked and leaned against the wall.

"I can sleep here, I don't need your help."

Julia sighed and walked to him, "I knew you wanted to sleep on a cozy blanket this winter. Don't lie. I can give you room. Come with me."

Kai blushed at the thought of sleeping next to a girl. He couldn't help but accept her offer. She chuckled. Kai felt dreamy. She was beautiful. He smirked and followed her to the room.

It was the same as his's, except the aspect was different. They removed their coats and scarves and hung them. Julia grabbed her nightgown and went inside the restroom. She returned a few minutes later.

"Make yourself comfortable," Julia assured him. He sat on the sofa.

"Come to the bed!" she exclaimed. Kai blushed.

Julia's cheeks turned beet. She gasped, 'Wait, did he assume that I…'

"No, I didn't think like that. I-uhh… just… um… don't sleep beside girls… you know. I hate sleeping with Takao too, he is a loud, snorty kid. I hate his snoring, ugh."

Julia burst out laughing at Kai's remarks.

"Alright, I'm going to turn the lights off. Have a good night's sleep."

Julia shared the blanket with him.

"Am I troubling you, girl?" he asked.

"I've been feeling lonely since my brother is not here. He's on a date with his new girlfriend. It's nice to have you as my companion. Just get some sleep."

"Well, promise me one thing. Don't tell Takao or anyone that I stayed with you this night. He'll never get enough of me once he learns about that. I will have a tough time dealing with that doofus," Kai mumbled.

"Sure, I'll take care of it, but by the time I wake up, you will not be there," Julia mocked. Kai sighed and was frustrated with her remarks.

She turned the lights off and lit a candle. Kai felt the illuminating presence and turned to see her. She kept that on the thick yet flat headboard of the bed.

"Do you love candles?" Kai asked her.

"I do, they are beautiful. I'm going to purchase some of them tomorrow in the market. The Indian candles seem to be lovely. I'd love to have some."

"Nice," he gently smiled.

In a few minutes, Julia was fast asleep. Kai struggled since he was with a girl, all alone. He brought the candle towards her to see the breathtaking face. He laid the strands of her hair on her ear. "You are beautiful, of course. I hope you get more candles like these. They'll make your face glow."

Kai placed the candle aside and drifted off. He dreamed of Julia in a beautiful Indian outfit and makeover, with the room decorated with beautiful curtains, rose petals, and cushions. Red shawls were hung along the corners covering the bed. She held a big candle, waiting for Kai to lie by her side. The dark room was illuminated with beautiful candles around the confines of the room. Her smile was radiant the moment Kai came to her.

"Come close, Kai. I need you by my side this night."

Kai climbed on the bed and faced the beautiful girl. His fingers crawled on her cheek and drew her closer.

"I will never leave this radiant beauty," his amethyst eyes were interlocked with her emerald ones. His hands slowly crawled down to grab her by the waist.

"I will make this night memorable for you," he whispered into her ears.

...

The next morning, Julia woke up to see Kai still fast asleep. She didn't expect to see him by her side. He was cute. The candle was gone, but the glow and radiance were still on his face.

[what-if-nct]

hiiii today's reminder is i went to some proper old delhi markets to run some errands and it is impossible not to feel like you're in a movie while you're there. like whenever i hear foreigners say india is sensory overload i think that's super exaggerated mostly because I'm used to it but walking through chandni chowk is sensory overload in the absolute best way for me, bonus points because there's so much great street food and i had all of it

Hiii, oh yeah the fast paced and hustle and bustle does always look exciting but I can see how it's overwhelming for those not used it. And anytime I watch content creators who live or visit India often eat street food it always looks good, I's great you had such a nice time running errands. Also you were in my dream last night, I've been dreaming about my online friends quite often lately. But first I was at the with my best friend and my boyfriend and we walked in through the Macy's and we were just walking around and I saw you near the end of the mall when I was by myself and we walked into a store that transported us somewhere else. And we were like jumping into movies that didn't exist but were definitely movies, one was a pirate movie we left immediately, another was this movie at like a fancy rehab center and we were talking to a bunch of girls. You were talking to this tall girl with a black pixie and I was talking to this girl with a blonde bob and she wasn't feeling too well and I was helping her get something to eat then she ran off and made herself sick so I calmed her down and was rubbing her back while you and the other girl brought over a towel and water then we had to leave but the blonde girl wanted me to stay but we had to before the portal closed. Then we left and we were at a soccer game I was coming back with snacks when you were getting into a fight with this older lady so I distracted the lady and pulled you away and we were running away from the field and I woke up.

[smalldcath]

*who: open (not actively capped!) *setting: the night market, after the rainstorm

The days and nights since the descent of the other nations had made certain that what he once believed was the temporary nature of the Sharmas' invitation had now been extended interminably. Add on to that a days-long prison in the shape of a rainstorm, rendering his personal pursuit of freedoms nigh on impossible, and the result was a Crown Prince incapable of ignoring the growing pit in his stomach, hungry for the familiarity of his favored creature comforts.

It was the first clear night after the rainstorm, and Zahir held no interest in the spoiled wine and cheap conversation that would inevitably befall dinner. So, he took to the sights and experiences of the Old Delhi — in particular, the bazar at night, with all its twisted and strange, its wicked and lovely. The prince could easily disappear into the public here, dissolve into a swirl of kaleidoscopic colors and utterly lose himself to bliss, corrupted. He was half-drunk by midnight, and utterly captivated by a street performer without much of an audience. And so, he reached for the nearest passerby with a plea, "Just stay for a bit! It'll be well worth your time. Please, I'll... I'll win you something shiny at the nine-pins stall if you do!"

[stardustedsins]

Kiss Prompts #36: A kiss to give up control

Kujo Jotaro/reader (gender neutral reader)

You’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. It’s understandable, with enemy stand users after you all the time. You never know where or when you might be attacked, so it’s difficult to relax and fall asleep at night. When Polnareff had been attacked by Ebony Devil in his hotel room yesterday, it had made your little problem worse. If Dio’s minions can track down your hotel rooms before you’ve even set foot in them, then nowhere is truly safe. 

Maybe you’re paranoid, but you can’t help it. You find yourself laying awake at night, listening to every little noise and wondering if each one is a sign of an enemy attack. Every time you start to drift off, a door down the hall slams shut, or the air conditioner kicks on, and it pulls you back to wakefulness. 

After a few days of struggling to get even a few hours of sleep, you’re not feeling great. You start finding it hard to stay awake during the day, as your body tries to get the sleep it so badly needs whenever it can. You nod off on Polnareff’s shoulder on the train to Myanmar, you nearly fall asleep and drop your chai in Calcutta, you close your eyes in the bus on the way to Varanasi and startle awake every time it hits a bump in the road. It’s bad enough that your eyes keep slipping closed as you stand in the hotel lobby in New Delhi while Mr. Joestar pays for rooms for the night.

“Hey.” Jotaro nudges you, and you jump. “Come on, we’re going to the third floor.” 

You follow him into the elevator, realizing as the doors close that the others hadn’t come with you.

“Why-“

“They’re going to dinner. You’re going to bed early before you pass out in the middle of the street.” 

The elevator dings on arrival at your floor, and you follow him out of the elevator and down the hall even as you protest.

“I’m fine, really, I’ve just been having a little trouble sleeping.”

“I know.” He unlocks the door and tosses his bag onto one of the beds. “Which is why you’re sleeping now.” 

“It’s not going to work, I can’t-“ He cuts you off with a look you can’t quite read.

“Just trust me.” 

You do. So you go along with it for now, brushing your teeth and getting changed for bed. He does the same, taking his turn in the bathroom after yours. You get in bed and prepare for another long night of laying awake. 

Jotaro leaves the bathroom and turns the overhead lights off, leaving just the lamp on the bedside table to see by.

“You want this on?” He asks, and you shrug. You don’t think it makes any difference, but it can’t hurt. He leaves it on, but instead of getting into his own bed, he comes to yours.

“Scoot over.” 

“What?” 

“It’s a small bed, I won’t fit if you don’t move over some.” 

You do, just to see where this is going. He climbs into bed and props the pillow on his side up against the headboard before sitting back against it.

“Now sleep. I’ll stay awake for a while and keep watch.” He says, and you realize that somehow he’s picked up on exactly what’s been going on with you, and this is his solution. You think it might work, the closeness might make you feel safe enough to sleep properly. 

You press a sleepy kiss to his cheek and lay down, pulling the covers up and closing your eyes. It’s comforting to know everything isn’t on your shoulders. You can let him be in charge, you trust him. 

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up in the morning feeling refreshed after sleeping through the whole night. You also wake up in Jotaro’s arms. Obviously he’d laid down at some point after you fell asleep, and now your back is pressed to his broad chest, one of his arms slung over you. 

You don’t think you could slip out without waking him, but why try? You close your eyes again and relax, comfortable and safe, for a little longer.