#theswallows

[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSOM SHADE

Part I

Prologue

The Monster in the Shadow

How can such an innocent women have

Such dangerous hands?

- ( The song of the Chapter is "Dangerous Hands" by Austin Giorgio.

2 Weeks ago

A shadow loomed in the dark stillness of the night.

A pair of eyes gleamed.

The eyes of a predator.

Eyes like fire and thunder, laced with venom.

Multiple computers flickered to red all of a sudden. Someone had dared to invade the monster's lair. He was at once thrilled and in awe of the audacity of the intruder, "TheSwallow."

TheSwallow had breached the first layer of firewall the monster had built around his empire of dark web.

And the monster was no stranger to TheSwallow.

He knew her.

He had stolen from her.

How did the monster know the intruder was a "her"? Experience. Years of navigating in the dark corridors of hacking taught him to distinguish between a "he" and a "she". The "she"s usually had a specific style in writing code. These codes in his screens were so damn gorgeous to be written by a man.

The "she"s were very rare in the hacker business, but when there was a "she", it was a fucking spectacle to behold.

Just like what's transpiring right now.

The monster could kiss her dainty little fingers for the show she was putting on. So sexy, so sensual.

A smile curved in the corner of his lips.

His smile was a blade wrapped in silk.

A sinister mixture of danger and delight.

It was time to lay a trap for the little bird. Let’s see how the swallow fared in the sky of the eagles.

Chapter 1

A Serpent in the Eagle's Den

Did you really think

I'd just forgive and forget.

- ( The song of the Chapter is "I see red" by Everybody loves an outlaw)

TheShadowMonster

It's the name she hates the most in the whole universe right now. Who is TheShadowMonster? She doesn't know. No one knows. He is a notorious hacker on the dark web, the lord of that shadowy world. Hackers all over the globe admire him, some worship him and others wet their pants at the mere mention of his name. He is a name of admiration, reverence, and fear in their world.

Khushi Sen Gupta used to admire him, even worshipped him in certain weak moments, but not anymore. Right now, she hates his guts.

TheShadowMonster is a thief.

He has no morals.

As if growing up in a notorious mafia family in Kolkata wasn't bad enough, now she has to deal with this setback in her secret life as well.

Yes, Khushi Sen Gupta is a hacker.

A highly proficient one.

A childhood full of mommy issues and daddy issues does that to you, when you find computers more emotionally available to you than your own parents.

And, Khushi Sen Gupta is a born genius. She discovered the language of computers when she was 8 years old, and since then, she never looked back.

Her father, Sashidhar Sen Gupta is the Deputy Commissioner of Police in Kolkata. Behind that badge, he is also the most corrupt in the country's history, not that anyone knows about his crimes. He is a member of 'The Serpents,' one of the three families that established the mafia in this country in the fifties.

The infamous 'Triad.'

Three powerful families came together to form an organized mafia syndicate that have been dominating the country for decades. These families swore to follow the laws laid down by The Godfathers and to stand by each other in times of need.

In every family, there’s The Boss, often called The Godfather, the unquestioned head who rules the entire empire. Just beneath him is The Underboss, The Heir, waiting in the shadows to take the throne. On par with the Underboss in power is The Consigliere, the trusted advisor who, though not bound by blood, holds the family's fate in his hands.

Beneath this triad of authority are the captains, who oversee specific operations and territories, managing their own teams to ensure the family's orders are executed with precision. At the end of the food chain are the foot soldiers, who carry out day-to-day tasks on the streets.

When territories were being distributed, the then head of the Serpents, Samol Kumar Jha, claimed West Bengal and its borders. They started operating from there. The Sen Gupta family had the honor of being The Consiglieri of The Serpents from the very beginning and they have held that position ever since.

A Consigliere is someone who is not related to the family by blood.

An outsider to the family,

But not an outsider to the mafia society.

He offers legal and financial counsel to The Boss while shielding them from impending threats.

That is Khushi's father now.

The Consigliere of the Serpents.

The Serpents have been ruling West Bengal for decades, but a few years ago, they moved to Delhi when The Boss of that time, Prakash Narayan Jha, decided to dip his toes into politics. As a result, the Sen Gupta household also relocated to Delhi. Even after The Boss was mysteriously murdered, they didn't move back. The Serpents now operate their business in Kolkata from Delhi, as the brother of the deceased boss took over that part of the business a few years ago, giving The Heir a chance to pursue his other interests. The Heir wants to venture into even more dangerous games.

The Politics.

The son of the deceased boss, Shyam Manohar Jha, is eager to try his luck in the political arena, just like his father.

People call him "The Viper".

A fitting description of his nature.

The second family of The Triad is the Mumbai Wolves. As the name suggests, Mumbai is their territory. Khushi knows very little about them. She never had to. In her entire 22 years of life, she hasn't crossed paths with any of them. But she could vaguely recall that the boss's daughter was killed last month, brutally and brazenly, in broad daylight, such an insult to the power the Wolves possessed. The news sent shockwaves through the underworld, leaving everyone on edge and wary of a brewing storm ahead.

And the last but not the least, the most notorious of them all.

The Black Eagles.

Here she stands, right in the heart of their territory.

It’s not that people from one family can’t visit another’s territory. The Serpents have basically been living in Delhi, which is the Black Eagles' domain, for the past two decades. However, a rule has been established. The Serpents can’t meddle in The Eagles' affairs. So, Khushi being here wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for two facts, first, the Serpents and the Black Eagles don’t see eye to eye, and second, she came here to stick her tiny nose in their business.

The serpents and the Eagles are enemies, they have been for a long time, bound by a fragile alliance that forces them to tolerate one another. What turned once-friends into bitter foes? That’s a long story, one best saved for another time. For now, there's a more pressing issue to focus on.

Her whereabouts.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

It is a mistake.

It can't be nothing but a mistake.

A grave one in nature.

Entering enemy territory like this!

But it is a mistake she has to make.

There's a party going on, a costume party with masks, nonetheless. At least it will be a tad bit easier to hide her identity.

The knives strapped to both of her thighs are biting into her skin, adding an extra notch to her already frayed nerves.

Ignoring the pain in her thigh, Khushi simply observes the scene in front of her. She has been preparing for this night for days. She has meticulously transformed her appearance for the evening. The long black sleeveless gown conceals the knives. She's paired the dress with a simple black lace mask. Her dark hair is curled into long waves with lips painted a vivid red.

It is anything but her.

But it is absolutely essential for her plan to remain unrecognizable.

She forces herself to maintain an air of nonchalance. She feigns drinking from the wine glass in her hand, but her eyes are locked on the crowd, never losing focus. A few sips of the drink might have soothed her jittery nerves, yet she refrains. A crystal clear focus is more crucial than any illusion of liquid courage.

The party is being held in the sprawling lawn of a grand mansion owned by a businessman associated with the Black Eagles. The mansion comes alive with the vibrant energy of the party, where twinkling fairy lights drape the trees, casting a warm glow across the night.

Laughter and music fill the open space, a lively symphony of chatter and clinking glasses. Guests mingle in elegant attire, their faces hidden behind an array of intricate masks, each more ornate than the last.

The scent of fresh blooms from the immaculately manicured hedge fills the air. She scans the softly glowing lawn area from the shadows of one of those hedges, observing faces she recognizes from the news over the years. She watches as the soldiers of the Eagles parade around with women mostly decorating the arms of the men they are with, just like those lavish centerpieces, adorning the beautifully arranged tables.

"Mr.Rathore, so nice to see you."

A man's loud greetings draw her attention. Khushi studies the man being greeted. He stands tall, his slender yet agile frame filling out the sharp lines of his tailored suit, a classic black that contrasts with his neatly combed white hair. The burden of age is visible on his face, etched deeply with wrinkles.

Vikrant "the Butcher" Singh Rathore.

The Boss of The Black Eagles.

Everyone in her world has some sort of crimson stain on their hands. But his hands bear the darkest stains of blood, deeper and more haunting than anyone else, the darkest shade of crimson.

They call him "The Butcher" for a reason.

His cold-blooded attitude is a thing of admiration in their world. Khushi has been around men like him in her life long enough not to let that shake her, or at the very least, to ensure none of it betrays her perfectly stoic face, carefully honed through years of practice.

Standing beside him is his son, the Prince of the Rathore Empire, Akash Singh Rathore. A tall, leanly built, lanky man. His role within the Eagles is still uncertain. Rumor has it that the Junior Rathore wants to leave the mafia world, not a promising prospect for the Rathore family, with an heirless empire hanging in the balance.

Those men in the eastern corner of the lawn care very little about the masquerade, standing barefaced while others conceal themselves behind masks. Good for Khushi. Nonetheless, she has studied them so much over the past few days that she will recognize them anywhere whether masked or unmasked, veiled, or unveiled.

Khushi finally lets herself take a little sip of the red liquid for the first time that night. The bitterness of the wine burns her throat, a spark compared to the burning hate prickling her skin as her eyes wander to the man who stands silently beside Junior Rathore.

The man she has come here for.

Arnav Singh Raizada.

The Consigliere of the Black Eagles.

The Vulture.

Her eyes trace over him, lingering on every detail. He stands tall in an all-black suit. The black shirt underneath has its top three buttons open in absence of a tie. His black hair is slightly messy, as if he has just run his fingers through it. He has his gaze fixed on the man in front of him with the most bored, expressionless face she has ever seen. It’s hard to see his eyes from this distance.

But she knows they are brown.

Light chocolate brown.

Like caramel and chocolate mixed together, sprinkled with a hint of orange and green if you get the right angle.

Eyes like shadow and flame.

Eyes that could kill you, literally and figuratively.

She's observed pictures of him in great detail, just for research purposes to be absolutely clear.

Purely and absolutely.

Not because she finds him attractive or anything. Like right now, she can't take her eyes off the handsome man, not because his well-built body is flexing in all the right places as he shakes someone's hand, but because of the stories she has heard of him over the years since he returned from the States seven years ago.

The words have it that after Senior Rathore's retirement, he will be the boss of The Black Eagles, not Junior Rathore. They say Vikrant Singh Rathore favors Mr. Raizada over his own son. In parts, Mr. Raizada even bears a closer resemblance to Senior Rathore than to his own father.

Arnav "The Vulture" Singh Raizada.

He is The Vulture among The Eagles.

In the mafia world, he is known as 'the vulture'. Whereas in the business world, people refer to him by the acronym, ASR. He is the son of the former consigliere of The Black Eagles, Arvind Singh Raizada. Arvind Singh Raizada and Vikrant Singh Rathore were best friends. After Arvind was murdered, his wife tragically ended her life by taking matters into her own hands. Soon after that, Senior Rathore sent the only surviving Raizada to the USA to study at Harvard.

At the age of 25, Mr. Raizada took over the reins of Rathore Industries. It primarily consists of high-end fashion houses, garment factories, and various other business ventures. He transformed the once-dying company into a Fortune 500 corporation. People say his net worth is over 500 million dollars, with some even claiming it is more.

But the more impressive thing is how he got his nickname. He cleared away all their illegal affairs and whitewashed all of their black money, giving them the squeaky clean reputation in the entire mafia world in the police database. Under the shade of the massive wings of The Vulture, The Eagles can now easily operate their business without any hitch.

Such a waste of a Harvard education, Khushi huffs.

There's a saying in her world that became popular in the last few years, "When the vulture surrounds you, try not to die."

He has the reputation of being the deadliest Eagle of them all, the most predatory. He rarely goes on a hunt though, but when he does, it's said to be over in the bat of an eye.

He goes straight for the jugular.

No distractions.

No playing around with the prey.

But no one ever saw him in action. Her bodyguard-turned-driver, Mohan, thinks they are all just rumors The Eagles have spread to instill fear among the masses regarding the next in line.

She fakely smiles at a waiter who offers her some desserts. Slightly raising her wine glass, she pretends to take a sip once again. She keeps her inspection ongoing from under the rim of her glass. She is right. Mr. Raizada does run his fingers through his hair a lot. The tattoo on his hand catches her eye.

He has a tattoo of a swallow on his right hand. Her favourite bird.

She even named her hacker ID "TheSwallow." She yearns for the freedom of the bird and wants to fly away to a far-off land one day. She doesn't want to be frowned upon like the peacock or the swan. She wants to be free, lost in the crowd like a normal human, not caged away in a castle.

She feels bad for the bird inked into his skin. Such a pretty bird to be trapped on the hand of such a despicable man. Just as he has caged the swallow forever in his skin, The Vulture has robbed her of her freedom as well.

She worked tirelessly throughout her years at IIT Delhi to gather information and evidence about the crimes committed by his father and the Serpents, so that by the end of her graduation, she could share them with the police in exchange of protection and escape from the country. She also coded a deadly virus that could evade any high-end security system, which she intended to sell on the dark web for a high price. But as she was transferring the data to the CBI, it stopped at the 10% mark, and all her data and the virus she created were gone. Abso-fucking-lutely gone. Not a single file remained on her computer. To make matters worse, her computer was formatted.

She was hacked by none other than TheShadowMonster. Why did the infamous hacker in the history of all hackers need to target someone like her? She has no idea. She was in the dark then, and she’s still in the dark now. She doesn't care about the 'why's, 'how's, or 'who's anymore.

She only knows that the information he has hacked is dangerous. It can demolish the entire mob world if it falls into the wrong hands. They can use it as leverage against the mob families, especially the Serpents, to achieve anything. And it has ended up in the worst hands possible.

The hands of an enemy.

She has been tracking the data and TheShadowMonster relentlessly for the past few days. She even managed to hack TheShadowMonster's server. All of this tracking has led her to Mr. Raizada. TheShadowMonster has sold the information to him. She discovered text messages, transactions, and every detail that pointed to the fact that the information was sold to Mr. Raizada in exchange for a huge amount of money.

And with that, all her escape routes have been blocked. She is trapped in this hellhole.

However, the thing is she can't stay in Delhi any longer. She can't afford to wait to collect more information against them as the day of her wedding approaches rapidly. She needs to retrieve the information tonight, at any cost, from none other than Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada.

She is going to kill The Vulture.

She knows it seems foolish and utterly illogical, but she has no other choice. Either she will kill him and obtain the information, or he will kill her and put her out of her misery. Either way, she will be free.

There is one more reason behind her desire to eliminate The Vulture.

Her only friend from university, despite her father's hovering and overprotectiveness, has vanished after the hacking incident. She doesn't want to assume the worst, but her efforts to track him down and her inquiries among other students led nowhere. Neil Kashyap, whom she calls NK, has vanished without a trace. She knows NK can remain untraceable if he wants, as he is skilled with computers and adept at erasing his online tracks as well. But Khushi is Khushi. She discovered a number NK shared text messages with before his disappearance, and that number belongs to Mr. ASR.

Khushi doesn't have time to cry over her pathetic life or the fact that she befriended someone sent by The Eagles to keep an eye on her. She not only befriended him but also made him her best friend for life.

The pathetic, lonely, friendless life that she has.

That is indeed a solid reason to kill Mr. Raizada, for giving her a best friend and then snatching it all away.

Author's note:Thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave your thoughts, I love hearing what you think! Stay tuned for more!

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@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @arshisrabbaves @titaliya

[faizal-skudal]

La O Be #theswallows #bapakmetal #popyehyeh https://www.instagram.com/p/Cb5CV6phsNi/?utm_medium=tumblr

[letsjoyful]

#CancerSupportGroups #cancer #cancerhelp #InspirationalSpeaker #shrenikshah #shrenikshah2110 #beingfearless #LaryngectomeeSPEAKEStoo #stoma #LiveTalkShow #ImageBuilidingBeyondBoundaries #GoingBackToWorkAfterCancer #BringingBackLostSMILE #hncconf2019 #hncconf2018 #theswallows #IWIllNotQuit #MakingDifferenceInLifeOfOthers #DedicatedToTheWillToWIN #electroLarynx #Laryngectomy #Laryngrctomee #FromDisabledToEnabled (at Nottingham, United Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5NkWfMghwM/?igshid=17xl50tais1hg

[cbarrowman]

Read a book! Right now! Link to my @morningblend fall book club seg in bio. #notreallyangry #liveTV #thewarehouse #theswallows #thedutchhouse https://www.instagram.com/p/B1-MafJHeBU/?igshid=1nh38k67ucg5d

[decoratingreader]

Happy Friday Eve 🤗 This week has flown by once again. I swear life went by slower when I was younger. Is it just me? . Thank you to @penguinrandomhouse for gifting me The Swallows by @lisa.lutz . It released this week and it’s high on my tbr. Have any of you read it yet? Or do you plan to? (Summary in comments) . When I went shopping Tuesday I stopped by @marshalls and found this Blessed @raedunn pillow and a sunflower candle that smells like fall 🍁🌻 because I am seriously SO ready for it. I also grabbed some sunflowers from Hobby Lobby! That place just makes me so happy every time I go in there. 😂😂 Anyone else? . . . #theswallows #lisalutz #thebookstagram #bookstagrammers #hygge #readersofinsta #lovetoread #bookaesthetic #ofquietmoments #penguinrandomhouse #tbr #raedunn #raedunnfinds #hobbylobby #cosy (at Memphis, Tennessee) https://www.instagram.com/p/B1MSTyWHeM_/?igshid=1wzpcy2gc6y9j

[triadin]

I made a new post on #Patreon as the #Triadin tales move forward. “Time to let go of fear ... That is why we are here...” #Rogar #Ashyu #TheSwallow 🎨. #asiancharacter #panel #representation #translivesmatter #love #family #fantasy #love #LGBTQIA #ric4art #Japan #Shikoku #Kagawa #日本 #四国 #香川 #drawing #wizard #sketch #wip (at Kagawa Prefecture) https://www.instagram.com/p/CGLe_prnIFE/?igshid=qdyw908vboui

[tugglegrassblues]

Book Review | The Swallows

Book Review | The Swallows

The Swallows Book Review | 📚📚📚 1/2 3.5/5 Lisa Lutz (author) | Ballantine (Random House) Books

The Swallows is a book about a high school prep school with a secret society, a badass teacher whose past troubles follow, and a growing group of renegade students. What could possibly go wrong?

Why I was interested in this book: I read a lot of grit lit and literature with social messages. I needed…

[awe86]

Layan Kopi ☕️ #nowspining "Senandong Malam" cover by The Swallows 👌🏻. #okgo ✊🏻 #kassimselamat #theswallows 🎸🥁

[henrycavillportal]

#CᴀᴠɪʟʟᴏɴSᴏᴄɪᴀʟMᴇᴅɪᴀ | Zireael

#TheSwallow

#TheWitcher

@Netflix

@WitcherNetflix

@HenryCavill

#HenryCavill #Zireael #Sorceress #TheWitcher #Witcher #Geralt #GeraltofRivia #Netflix #NetflixWitcher #hexer #thewitchernetflix #thewitcher3 #gwent #Ведьмак #wiedzmin #witcher3wildhunt #gameofthrones #cirilla #bloodandwine #wildhunt #ciri #polish #yenneferofvengerberg #sapkowski #monsterslaying #yennefer #monsterslaying #cdprojektred

We're NOT Henry Cavill. He's @HenryCavill

[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 26

The shadow & the devil

Wherever you go,

that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow.

- ( the song of the chapter is 'Die with a smile' by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga )

She grips the steering wheel tighter as the rain splatters against the windshield, the wipers chasing them away. The world outside is a blur of smeared lights and darkness. Her eyes burn, but she refuses to let the tears fall, not for him, not for herself, and certainly not for the fool she had been.

The ache in her chest intensifies with every mile she puts between herself and him along with the betrayal that claws at her thoughts.

She snorts, a hollow, bitter sound lost in the sound of the rain. The man she thought she knew, the man she once trusted the most in her whole life, is the same man who trapped her in this hell hole by stealing her leverage.

She's not angry at TheShadowMonster.

No, he was a stranger.

An online acquaintance she foolishly considered as a friend.

No, her fury burns for him.

The re-incarnation of devil himself.

The man whose gaze made her feel safe, powerful, almost invincible. The one who showed her the taste of freedom, under whose touch she bloomed as a woman. The one who whispered the language of sin in her ear, in her skin.

The man she had burned for with every inch of her being.

Her phone buzzes in the passenger seat, its screen lighting up with 'the devil'. She glances at it, her jaw clenching. The audacity. He's finally lived up to the name

That treacherous, deceitful man.

The car swerves slightly as she snatches the phone and shoves it into the glove compartment, silencing its incessant demand for attention. She doesn't need his words, his lies, or his excuses. Not now. Not ever.

She is angry, so God damn angry at herself. He had never lied about who he was. A self-proclaimed liar with an agenda as sharp and cutting as his mind. And yet, she had been foolish enough to believe she was the exception. That she was different. Special.

How naive. How utterly, devastatingly naive.

Memories surge unbidden...his voice, his caramel-brown eyes, the way he looked at her that night in his office like he never wanted to look away. All of it feels like a cruel joke now, a carefully constructed lie.

She's a mess of heartbreak and fury, driving in an empty street, caught in a storm she never saw coming.

Her mind struggles to reconcile the fact that the two men are one and the same. The one with the brilliant mind she envied and admired and the one with that gorgeous face she surrendered herself to.

She recalls the subtle yet brilliant messages left in the code. Messages only hers to decipher. A secret dialogue between two unseen minds.

And now, they feel like knives lodged in her chest.

Her mind reels, pulling her back to the nights spent at her computer, exchanging cryptic messages with the anonymous hacker she had called "Shadow."

(2 years ago)

She stared at the screen, her fingers poised above the keyboard, a smirk tugging at her lips. The loops of code she'd been stuck in had vanished, cleared as though by magic. But magic didn't exist in her world. Only skill. And someone had just flaunted theirs.

Her eyes narrowed. A hacker had stepped into her path and, rather than leaving her stranded, had wiped away her errors. The audacity.

She gasped when she realised it was none other than TheShadowMonster. She just couldn't resist.

Her ID trailed his, shadowing his movements with the confidence of someone who knew she was being watched....and didn't care.

She left him an encrypted message that would say "Hello" if he cared to decrypt.

Her message window pinged with a message.

TheShadowMonster: Why are you following me?

Oops, busted.

TheSwallow: Me? No. I'm just going my way.

But she kept trailing him. His annoyance practically radiates through the screen.

TheShadowMonster: Last warning.

TheSwallow: Can you bring me with you? I promise I won't disturb you. I'll just follow and learn some techniques.

He ignored her.

TheSwallow: Please.

He ignored her again. Rejected and annoyed, she decided to push further. Poking at strangers online was too much fun.

TheSwallow: You're a loner. I get it.

When his response came, it made her blink and then laugh.

TheShadowMonster: I'm a killer, too. I can trace your location and end you right now. Fuck off.

Her pulse quickened....not in fear, but exhilaration. She'd thrown out similar threats countless times before.

If he was a killer, she was a mafia princess.

Oh wait, she really was.

Let's play with him a little more. What's there to lose anyway?

TheSwallow: Hahaha...You're bluffing. You're probably some acne-riddled teenager hiding behind a laptop. Just look at your ID.

She knew he wasn't some teenager. She also knew he wasn't acne-riddled either.

What he could do no teenager could. Too ruthless, too dangerous. If he was a teenager, she needed to be far away from here cause he would be a very deranged teenager. Just hope that he was not. Teenager, she meant.

The silence stretched long enough for her to question her boldness. But he didn't make her wait.

TheShadowMonster: Let's see how long you last, Swallow.

Her grin widened. A challenge and an acknowledgement. He wasn't dismissing her. He was inviting her into the game, into a voyage.

And Khushi Sen Gupta never backed down from a challenge.

The thrill of danger wrapped around her like a second skin.

---------------

That first night, they locked into a relentless digital duel, an intricate game of hacking, her trying to outmanoeuvre him. Hours flew by in a dance of intellect and precision until both finally paused, an unspoken truce hanging in the silence.

---------------

The next night, she roamed in the same location at the same time where she encountered Shadow last night. She again sent an encrypted message, hoping it would find him. 'Is anyone here?'

She found him visible in the same location a few minutes later. So she followed him Again. He was far too intriguing to resist.

TheSwallow: Need a hand?

TheShadowMonster: No.

She scowled at the curt response, as if he could see her irritation.

TheSwallow: You've been circling at the same loop for thirty minutes.

TheShadowMonster: I am just observing. Btw why are you poking your nose into my business again?

TheSwallow: Poking my nose in your business implies interest. I'm just bored.

TheShadowMonster: Do you lurk on the internet all night waiting for me to come online? You must be really bored, then.

TheSwallow: What can I say? It's my hobby.

TheShadowMonster: Get a life or get some sleep.

TheSwallow: Are you always this bossy?

TheShadowMonster: Only when people need it.

TheSwallow: is it just natural talent?

She got ignored again. She huffed. She offered to help damnit.

No "thank you"s.

No acknowledgement.

Didn't mothers teach their sons manners these days?!

Maybe he didn't have one. Just like her.

TheSwallow: you are welcome btw. Why do I even put up with you?

TheShadowMonster: Because, secretly, you're impressed.

Secretly?! She's openly impressed.

Maybe because she was behind the screen, that's why she was so brave and bold. So she asked.

TheSwallow: Are you impressed?

No response. She's ignored again.

---------------

At first, he was nothing but an enigma, an arrogant shadow who dismissed her as a nuisance.

But she didn't give up.

She sent him encrypted codes at regular intervals every night.

And sometimes she got acknowledged and sometimes she got ignored.

But she knew he was watching her.

Always watching. Silently.

She kept coming back, drawn to his brilliance. He never praised her outright, but his grudging acknowledgement, spoke louder than any flattery ever could.

----------------

One night, She was stuck on a particularly intricate algorithm, one she had been working on for hours without progress, her frustration mounting. Her mind, however, kept veering toward him....the Shadow Monster....and ways to bait him out.

Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, his message appeared.

TheShadowMonster: You missed a step.

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, her heart pounding in startled confusion. She glanced at the chat window, then back at her code. A slow smile crept onto her lips.

TheSwallow: No, I didn't.

TheShadowMonster: Check line 124.

Her eyes darted back to her work, scanning the lines of code until she spotted it, a mistake so subtle that anyone less meticulous would've overlooked it. Heat crept up her neck as she corrected the error swiftly.

TheShadowMonster: Impressive. Almost makes me think you have a brain in there.

TheSwallow: Do you have a degree in unsolicited advice or something? My brain is just fine, thank you. And next time, try not to stalk me.

TheShadowMonster: You'll have to stop being so interesting, then.

Her face turned hot.

TheSwallow: That almost sounded like a compliment.

TheShadowMonster: Don't let it get to your head. I don't do compliments. Just observations. You're tolerable...for now.

TheSwallow: You said I was interesting.

TheShadowMonster: Tolerably interesting.

Her lips twitched despite herself, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

---------------

What began as uncharted interest turned into a routine. Shadow had a knack for showing up when she least expected it, dropping hints and challenging her in ways no one else dared. He was brilliant, maddeningly.

It was so good to have a friend, even if it was online.

In a world where everyone lusted after her physical beauty, he saw her brilliance, which nobody saw and nobody cared about.

-----------

TheSwallow: What's the point of being brilliant if no one understands you?

TheShadowMonster: Someone's feeling dramatic tonight.

Her hands moved instinctively, typing faster than she thought.

TheSwallow: I'm serious. People either want to use you or bring you down. No one really gets it.

TheShadowMonster: Who cares? Maybe they don't need to get all of it. Sometimes, it's enough if someone gets just a part of you. I am sure you have a friend who does.

Yes, she had a friend in real life who got her to an extent. Her only friend. NK.

Is shadow a friend too. Yes, of course.

She hesitated, before typing the question.

TheSwallow: What part do you think you get of me?

There was a pause.

TheShadowMonster: The part that keeps coming back here, night after night, looking for something.

TheSwallow: What do you think I'm looking for?

There was no reply for a long time, but then it finally came.

TheShadowMonster: Someone who sees your brilliance. Because nobody sees it, does it?

The screen remained silent after that, but she knew he was still there. The quiet between them wasn't empty. It was comfortable.

---------------

Over time, the sharp edges of their exchanges softened. His dry humour made her laugh, his cryptic advice came when she needed it most.

He had an uncanny ability to spar with her without belittling her, to provoke her without ever crossing the line.

Then, there were the rarest moments of raw and unfiltered truth.

------------

TheSwallow: I never thanked you for helping me when I was trapped that day. So thank you.

TheSwallow: Do you ever feel trapped?"

She had asked once, her mood uncharacteristically sombre.

TheShadowMonster: Every day.

He admitted, surprising even herself with the honesty of his reply.

TheSwallow: Same.

The words felt so uncharacteristically melancholy. So she tried to lighten up the mood.

TheSwallow: Regardless try not to stalk me next time.

TheShadowMonster: Excuse me?!

She signed off, giggling to herself.

Shadow saw her as the person she desperately wanted to be-someone smart, capable, and worthy of respect. He was the only person who ever did.

Until the caramel-eyed devil came along, a force of nature, a mystery, who saw in her everything shadow ever did and more, a hundredfold more. In his silence and his words, she felt understood in a way no one else had ever managed.

Oh, the irony, they are the same person.

The pieces fall into place, one by one, each more damning than the last, leaving her to question everything she thought she knew.

The rain is only a drizzle now. Her phone has stopped ringing a couple of minutes ago. She eyes the glove compartment, her hand itches to open it and see if there's any message from him.

Suddenly, a bike swerves in front of her car, forcing her to slam the brakes hard. Her heart leaps to her throat as the tyres screech against the wet asphalt.

It's Him.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightens. For a fleeting, irrational moment, she has the overwhelming urge to just run him over. Before she can even entertain the thought, he's off the bike, striding towards her, with an expression that sucks the air out of her lungs.

"What the-" Her words are cut off as he wrenches the car door open, his movements almost frantic. His strong hand wraps around her wrist, firm yet urgent, pulling her out of the seat.

"Hey!" she yells, struggling against his grip as he snatches her car keys with his free hand. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

His silence only fuels her fury.

He drags her a few feet away from the car before turning to her. His rain-soaked hair is in total disarray as if he has run his finger through it multiple times.

The rain blurs the broad span of his shoulders, his wet leather jacket clinging to his frame. The rain also dims the rich brown hue of his eyes yet the fury in them shines through like a flash of lightning in the distance.

"Stay right fucking here." His voice leaves no room for argument.

Blazing rage flares in her chest.

Like hell, she's going to listen to him anymore.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?" She snaps.

Ignoring her, he strides back to the car with purpose. But she continues following behind him, "I don't work for you anymore. So you have no right to give orders to me."

She watches in confusion as he crouches to inspect every inch of the vehicle-underneath the car, the trunk, the seats. His movements are sharp and calculated, as if he's looking for something specific.

Then he opens the hood and freezes. She stops too. Her breath catches as she gets a closer look at what's beneath the hood.

"Is that... a bomb?" she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Her eyes land on the small device nestled in the car's engine. The numbers on the timer flash ominously: 4:55.

Her breath falters, legs trembling beneath her as the countdown ticks away mercilessly. She clutches his arm without thinking, her nails biting into his skin.

"We need to get out of here!!" she says, her voice rising in panic. "Start your bike. Let's go! Wait, let me get my phone and laptop!"

He doesn't budge. Instead, he turns his head slowly, his gaze dropping to her trembling hands gripping his arm. His eyes lift to meet hers before shifting back to the bomb nestled in the engine. "Just take a few steps back. Let me defuse it," he says, his voice is calm, maddeningly calm, as if they aren't standing in the middle of a life-or-death situation.

Her jaw drops. "Let you defuse it? Are you insane? The hell I am going to let you do that!!! Let's go!!!''

He doesn't answer her, instead he retrieves a knife from his ankle with an infuriating air of control. He leans over the hood and starts working on it like it's just another Tuesday.

"Do you really know what you're doing?!" Her voice is unusually high. It would grate on her nerves if she was not so freaked out. "We can just let it blast!"

He shakes his head, focused entirely on the bomb. "If we do that, we lose the chance to find out the culprit."

She stares at him, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. "But...."

"Can you keep quiet? Five minutes... or 4:20, to be exact," he cuts her off without looking up. How's his voice is so steady? "Why don't you stand by my bike? Just to be safe."

Her fists clench at her sides as her frustration boils over. But she doesn't move, sticking to his side.

She's furious at him, at the bomb, at herself for not knowing what to do. But the fear creeping up her spine is louder than her anger.

For this infuriating, infuriating man, who stands there, claiming he can defuse the bomb. What if he couldn't? What if she was left standing there, helpless, watching as he...

The mere thought causes her heart to clench uncomfortably, almost painfully.

It shouldn't. But it does.

The seconds tick by, each one stretching into an eternity as he carefully exposes the wires. Cold sweat breaks out on her skin as she watches his every move, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

Her chest tightens as the timer hits 2:15. She bites her lip, hard enough to taste blood, her nails digging into her palms. "There's still time. We can run. If you cut the wrong one..."

"I won't," he says simply in his steel voice.

Then, he snips a wire.

Time stands still as she stops breathing.

And finally, the bomb stops ticking, enveloping their surroundings in an welcomed silence.

She exhales a shuddering breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her knees buckle, and she has to grab the edge of the car for support. Relief washes over her in waves, but it's quickly replaced by a white-hot fury.

"You're insane!" she yells, her voice shaking.

He closes the hood with a bang that makes her jump and then just looks at her like nothing happened. His attention goes back at the bomb in his hand as he puts it over the hood and keeps examining it.

Her anger flares anew at his nonchalance. "You're reckless, arrogant, and...and..."

"And you are alive." He interrupts her with a look. A look that sends a jolt through her, stealing her next breath. She hates the way her heart stumbles in her chest.

But his next question, causes her heart to tumble over.

"Are you okay?" His voice softens ever so slightly and a fire curling gently around the edges of her heart.

His words silence her. She fixes him with a glare, sharp as a blade, hoping it conveys the fury coursing through her veins and not the ache hidden beneath.

"You don't need to care about my well-being," She says, crossing her arm over her chest and looking away, suddenly feeling incredibly small.

"Why weren't you driving your usual car?"

A demand.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she starts walking toward the car, but he grabs her wrist, spinning her around.

"I asked you a question," he says, clenching his jaw.

"And I don't think it's necessary to answer," she snaps, yanking her wrist free.

The caramel-browns blaze like wildfire as he grips her upper arms, pulling her close.

"What do you think of yourself?" he growls, his voice a storm threatening to break. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you? Why the hell weren't you answering your fucking phone?" Each word lands like a crack of thunder, punctuated by a shake on her small, trembling frame. His eyes, blazing with fury, strip her of words.

"I need to find out who was trying to kill you. Did anyone ask you to take this specific car?" He continues, oblivious to the havoc his eyes are causing in her.

She huffs, brittle and defiant, then answers in a shaky voice. "I just took it from the garage first thing in the morning. I don't think anyone even noticed!"

"So fucking reckless," he growls, his fingers digging into her arms as if trying to shake some sense into her. His eyes darker eclipsing the brown, his breath heavy with barely contained anger. "You...you're a goddamn magnet for danger. Do you know what that is?" He jabs a finger toward the bomb.

Her heart flutters wildly, ricocheting like a trapped hummingbird under his firm grip. She squirms, the weight of his hands grounding her yet making her feel trapped. His touch sends her emotions spiralling-rage, confusion, a treacherous flicker of warmth.

She wants to shove him away. Then, she wants to kiss him senseless. Then she wants to smack him again.

A scream bubbles in her throat, raw and unspoken. Damn him for setting her whole world off balance.

How can her body react to him like that even after everything?

This man has finally turned her fucking insane.

Another shake brings her back to his words.

"It's a bomb made by the serpent. Only serpents make this type of bomb. Mr. Jha has a brilliant plan to bomb their own car in the political rally to throw the blame on the opposite and play the victim card...."

His eyes narrow, dark and forgiving as they land on her, "And you...." he hisses, "You are here roaming around with one of those cars and those irresponsible soldiers of serpents.....just let you drive away without checking. I swear, I'll fucking kill them all."

She stares at him as his words slowly sinks in, twisting her stomach into knots. His voice drops, raw and dark. "Do you realise what would've happened if I hadn't figured it out in time?"

"I thought..." his gaze holds hers trapped. "Do you even know what I'm going through? Do you have any idea how worried I was? What if...." He stops, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard.

His hands cup her face firmly, engulfing her smaller, delicate features in his broad, calloused palms. The storm in his eyes mirrors the tempest rippling through his touch, raw and unrestrained, teetering on the edge of control.

"What if something had happened, damnit? What if I'd lost you?" his voice rips through the air, a roar that rattles her bone.

Every hair end of her body tingles as his words wash over her. His words linger, echoing in the space between them, stretching and shrinking, settling into a rhythm of their own.

Her chest heaved with the erratic beat of her heart. The crack in his voice, the unguarded panic swirling in his eyes

It's too much.

But there's something in those darkened caramel orbs, that is part dangerous and part alluring.

She wants to capture it, bottle it up and keep it hidden away, just for herself.

Then the meaning of his words sinks in. If he didn't reach her in time, she would have been lying there in pieces.

Wait?!?

Was he telling the truth?

Or did he plant the bomb himself and now defuse it to gain her trust?

She isn't going to fall into his trap again.

With a jerk, She pulls his hands away from her face. Almost violently.

"And if that had happened?" she snaps, her voice icy yet shaking. "So what? So what if the bomb went off? Whatever happens to me...Why the hell would it matter to you?"

His eyes narrow. "Of course it matters, damn it!" he roars. She's never seen him like this. So unhinged.

"Why?" she challenges, her eyes searching his face. "Why does it matter?"

"Because..." His jaw tightens that looks almost painful. But he doesn't say anything further. Instead, he looks far away from her, locking his caramel browns behind an iron door as his fingers rake through his hair, disheveling it further.

She lets out a frustrated sigh. It's going nowhere.

"Stay the fuck away from me." she spits, spinning toward the car door. But before she can open it, his hand slams against the frame above it, pinning her in place.

A shiver runs down her spine, igniting every cell of her, from the tip of her hair to the end of her toe nail. She feels a flush creeps her neck, spreading across her skin as she feels the heat of him behind her, his chest just inches from her back, his breaths coming fast and heavy against her skin.

Her hand clenches on the car door as she tries to ignore the heat rushing unbidden through her veins.

She can feel him taking long, deep breaths as if trying to rein himself. She swallows hard, her throat suddenly dry.

"Don't talk to me like that," he murmurs, his voice dangerously steady.

"Why not? It's not like I owe you anything." her voice coming out softer now, almost unsure.

His hand drops from the door, but his eyes stay on her back, dark and unwavering. She can feel it. "You sure about that," his voice is cold now, a sharp contrast to the storm a few moments ago.

She doesn't reply, too tangled in her own mind, the whirlwind of confusion and anger. Before she knows it, he's stepping back, his voice softening, almost reluctant. "Go home. We'll talk when you're willing to listen to me. "

He opens the door for her and motions for her to get inside. "And Khushi, Don't make me wait. I'm not a patient man."

The gentleness in his tone disarms her, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She doesn't dare look at him as she climbs into the car, her hands trembling as they grasp the wheel.

Silently, she drives the long road home, her mind fighting to stay focused. She tries her hardest not to glance at the rearview mirror, but it's an impossible task. Her eyes betray her, and there, in the reflection, is only darkness. Yet she knows he's there.

Like he always has been.

Like a shadow that never leaves her.

She can feel his presence.

And that presence, that undeniable pull, follows her all the way home.

Author's note:

Hello, dear reader!

So here it is. There's more to come, and I can't wait to share it with you!

This is easily one of my top five Arshi moments. What's yours? I'd love to know your favorites, so don't hesitate to share!

Until then, take care and stay tuned for what's next!

<previous> | <next>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @chaiandtakkar @bigfatreader

[loomedbylacy]

I don’t even have words for the way these turned out after all the roadblocks I hit on the way to the end 🥰 Sometimes things don’t go as planned and the outcome is even more beautiful 🤩 ⁣. . . #bleachdye #trio #easysubli #purple #pink #blue #cassette #theswallow #sublimation https://www.instagram.com/p/CQJxT54ruEI/?utm_medium=tumblr

[letsjoyful]

#CancerSupportGroups #cancer #cancerhelp #InspirationalSpeaker #shrenikshah #shrenikshah2110 #beingfearless #LaryngectomeeSPEAKEStoo #stoma #LiveTalkShow #ImageBuilidingBeyondBoundaries #GoingBackToWorkAfterCancer #BringingBackLostSMILE #hncconf2019 #hncconf2018 #theswallows #IWIllNotQuit #MakingDifferenceInLifeOfOthers (at Nottingham, United Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5Njv_gg2G3/?igshid=1rmti516b19kj

[thesixweekseeker]

A land without a plan…

(5/2-5/12/17)

So I don’t always (usually) have a plan in life but I really didn’t have anything lined up for my next venture to Ireland that was coming up in less than a week. The only plan that I did have was a flight in and out of Dublin, and that kept changing by the minute. You can credit bad influence besties and a hot new romantic interest in NYC who were supporting my United change fee habit.  So, I decided to just wing it in the Emerald Isle and stick with no plan is the best plan.

I landed bright and early on Tuesday morn’ and I luckily slept most o’ the way (I’ll stop) from EWR to DUB.  I apparently slept so soundly that I even missed the customs form handout portion.  I had a panic moment when I rolled up to the counter at the Dublin Airport ….

Agent: (Serious face) Customs form please.

Susie: (Red face) I’m so sorry, I don’t have mine … I slept through that on the plane … and

Agent: (Cuts off my monologue) Well, where are you staying in Ireland?

Susie: (Trying to sound like I have a plan) Ummm, I don’t know yet.

Agent: (Looking at me like I’m a hot mess) Well how long are you staying in Ireland?

Susie: (Feeling like a hot mess) I think 6 Weeks.

Agent: (Flabbergasted) Why would you stay in Ireland for 6 Weeks?!?

Susie: (Return Flabbergasted) Why wouldn’t I stay in Ireland for Weeks?!?

Agent: (Finally chuckling) That’s a good answer I suppose.  You don’t need a customs form.  Enjoy your stay.

True story.

After making it through that thorough interrogation, I needed to figure out where I would venture to first.  From those who have gone before me, the feedback was “you pretty much can’t go wrong” followed up with a general consensus of Galway City being the best.  So I decided to embark upon “The West Village of Ireland” and was off to find a mode of transport.  

Since I was still pretty loopy and a little anxious about driving on the left side (since I can barely drive on the right side), I passed on the car rental option for now. You’re welcome everyone in Ireland.  *Side note: learn how to drive a manual before arriving.  A monthly car rental was about $1,000 for an automatic but as cheap as $200 for a manual.  Click here for some good tips if you plan to rent a car while in Ireland.

Luckily, the bus system is super legit across the entire country.  At the Dublin Airport, each “city” or destination has its own bay if you walk around to the area between Terminals 1 & 2.  It is very clearly marked and organized, and for each destination there are several bus options (see helpful link here).  I found a CityLink Bus heading to Galway City, and I was wifi-enabled and set for the 2.5 hour journey for a mere 20 Euros.  Winning.

I unfortunately slept through most of the bus ride to Galway, but the parts that I saw half-awake/half-delirious were gorgeous. We arrived at the city centre bus station and since I was rolling with a non-low maintenance checked bag, I found a taxi right outside.   *Second side note: Everything less than 5 Euros is given in coin format.  So whereas my ride was 6 Euros and I thought I was giving him .40 Euros back, I actually gave him 4 Euros back.  I’m counting that as my Six Week Random Act of Kindness for the day. #rakitup

My friend had a friend who has relatives who own a B&B in Lower Salthill called Wards Hotel (did you follow that).  Lower Salthill is a pretty seaview area right next to Galway City, so I figured I would start my lodging adventure there.   Unfortunately as I strolled up to Wards I was shut down by the bartender (in a very kind manner of course) who let me know that it was completely booked.  If only there was a way to pre-book your accommodations and avoid this sort of thing…

Anyway, I was sticking to my no plan/spontaneous game and he directed me down Father Griffin Road where there were 6 B&B’s back to back.  Luckily there was one that still had vacancies called The Swallow.  I met the lovely grandpa-like owner named Jimmy.  *Btw, EVERYONE here is named Jimmy.  Makes it super sweet when addressing people if you are inept at remembering names like myself.  I can just say “hey Jimmy” to any guy and it usually sticks.

My reservation exchange with Jimmy lasted all of one minute.  He smiled at me and said “number 6 is available – go have a look.” To which I did and it was good. Bed, bathroom, clean, quiet – score.  I came back down and he said “take it day by day, stay as long as you’d like, pay when you leave and here’s your key.”  This man clearly knows his audience.  One day turned into two, which turned into three, and I ended up staying for ten days so that’s how it goes.

Jimmy and his wife Patricia are the owners at The Swallow, and they made everything great for me.  They were there when I needed them, and out of my way when I didn’t.  Breakfast was solid (not a full traditional Irish breakfast if that’s what you are searching for) but more than plenty to start the day.  They will also set you up with the West Coast tours that are must-dos (Connemara, Cliffs of Moher and Aran Islands) and can even get you picked up right outside of the B&B.  

However the best part, next to them, is the location. It’s perfectly situated right between Galway City and Salthill.  Both are about a 10-15 minute walk away depending on your destination, and both spots are equally good (IMO).  The Swallow isn’t extravagant, as most B&Bs there aren’t, but with 45 Euros getting you an ensuite, free wifi, breakfast, amazing owners and an unbeatable central location, it’s a perfect deal for your home base in the West.  Click here to learn more and/or book your stay.

 Galway City completely won me over with its small town charm + big city energy. I’ll be sharing more of my epic highlights there along with my hunt for healthy eats (and maybe a few unhealthy ones that are worth the cheat) in blogs to follow.  I know most people say “it’s impossible to stay healthy while traveling” so it’s my mission to continue to prove that statement as a big fat FALSE. 

Stay tuned in eager anticipation for all of the goodness that is to come from Ireland …

[triadin]

I made a new post on #Patreon as the #Triadin tales move forward. “Time to let go of fear ...and your momentum...” #TheSwallow #Rogar #Ashyu🎨. #panel #representation #translivesmatter #love #family #fantasy #LGBTQIA #ric4art #Japan #Shikoku #Kagawa #日本 #四国 #香川 #wip (at Kagawa Prefecture) https://www.instagram.com/p/CI_9UqqnCSu/?igshid=1r2zsnfmnpidw

[hellavende]

📷 by The Swallow Photography. Model: Hellavende

[speedypeachglitter-blog]

Texts: Kent Parson LVA

Bitty: Hey Kent!

Bitty: It's me, Bitty! From Samwell.

Bitty: Speaking of Samwell, we have this thing called the Swallow? It's mostly gossip and stuff but. You came up in it. Yay :/

Bitty: http://theswallow-su.tumblr.com/post/155469862316/does-kent-parson-know-how-fruit-works

Bitty: Not sure if this will affect your travel plans or anything. Or if you need to talk to PR about the kissing thing.

Bitty: Anyway. Let me know if I can help. I usually try to fly under the radar with the Swallow, but I guess anyone seen talking to someone as famous as you is good for gossip.