king of nothing

shiv rathod; master of smokes, mirrors, and seventeen different type of velvet cloth owner of platinum lounge, the palace of your dreams

[shivrathod]

If you ask Shiv what the best part of his job is, he’ll cock a smile, tip his head and tell you in a secretive whisper that his girls make for great perks. Of course, that’s a goddamn lie. The best part, is the alcohol. It’s the single malt he sips on all day without ever worrying about cutting a limb to pay for it. It’s the vodka shots he takes before meeting the investors who reek of prestige and money he desperately needs. It’s the jaegerbombs he knocks down to de-stress after his father goes on about how he’s wasting his life on a venture that will earn him no money when he’s clearly managed to earn three times the turnover of his initial capital within a year. 

So it’s unusual to see him not at the quaint little bar but at Provocateur instead, his blazer ditched long back while his sleeves have already been folded up to his elbows. A quick look at the time shows it barely being three in the afternoon. He sips his choice of poison, a scowl resting on his forehead, almost oblivious to the bartender eyeing the mountain of glasses slowly accumulating. 

“What? You just realised you’re not straight or...?”

Well, he did notice then. Shiv rolls his right shoulder slowly before letting out another slow sigh, unwillingly setting himself up as a heartbroken hero of a star-crossed lovers’ tale. It’s only when he spots a familiar figure that he quirks up a reluctant smile, raising the glass at the person even though the only thought running through his head is don’t fucking come here DON’T just leave.

[ilivefortheselittlemoments]

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Anya Marina - Whatever You Like

[shivrathod]

avantikaa:

               SHE DIDN’T EXPECT a response from Shiv, of all people, but she wasn’t surprised by it either. He seemed to have an inability to mind his own business. Perhaps that was what made him as successful as he was. He was the quintessential businessperson in Avantika’s eyes. Someone who talked and conned their way to the top, and managed to stay there. He was a trader, more than anything, Avantika had realised a few years ago. A trader of secrets, stories and lies. He’d make a very powerful ally, if not for his close association with Riya. 

               A chuckle escaped her at his compliment. He was the type of person who was on a permanent ‘flirt’ setting. She then spoke, her words light, airy. “I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied with the mediocre then, hmm?” 

               Her gaze sharpened as she followed his hand as he reached for her glass, and as soon as his hand was close enough to reach the glass, her eyes shot up to meet his. Did he intend on taking it? She knew it seemed like her glass was lonely, but it wasn’t neglected, not really. She simply preferred to enjoy her whisky instead of downing it as though it was cheap McDowell’s instead of something that demanded to be savoured. 

              “Nothing specific. Perhaps I was in the mood for some decent company…” she said, crossing her legs, she angled her body to face him, and eyed him, almost critically. “Although, I suppose you could always buy me another drink,” she said, gesturing vaguely to his hovering hand. 

A laugh escaped Shiv, high and flight as he was. He had a specific technique to laughter that he had perfected over the years - head thrown back, hands curled around a cold glass of whatever was closest, eyes fully closed. It exuded trust. Trust that he had on almost no one. It was an easy trick he used far too liberally. His hands had shied away from her glass the moment he felt her gaze, as if scolded into submission. 

He liked his women to be dominant. 

“You say the word decent like it’s something filthy,” he pointed out with a knowing half grin, leaning forward till his fingers were close enough to trace the line of condensation decorating the woman’s glass. He found Avantika to be drop dead charming, laced with a generous dose of poison, just the kind of woman he would love to be seen with. The kind that screamed power with her every glance. But he was slightly more resistant to her charms than others perhaps - he was surrounded by the most beautiful women he could possibly imagine after all. 

“Or is it the company that offends you...?” His grin now takes on a wolfish tinge and a careless wave took only a few seconds to take its effect. “Two whiskey on the rocks. And don’t be stingy with it.” He kept his eyes on Avantika the entire time, leaning back into the leather seats once more. 

“You should teach me someday. This look of yours. The one that probably kills a hundred men on a daily basis.” He hummed for a while before shrugging. “Or women, take your pick.”

[shivrathod]

goddesserpentine:

…besides my brothers, you are the only one I ever want to smack. And we both know the only reason I don’t do it is because you’d probably sulk about it for days on end. 

If you must know Shiv, it was just an invitation from the Manik boys, you know the ones who thought it would be hilarious for their guests to be almost arrested for trespassing at their last soiree. While I may indulge in the not-so-legal, their ideas of parties are simply not my idea of fun. However, I can always have them extend an invitation for you.

Please, we both know I’m better than your brothers. And trust me Riri, you do not want me cracking a joke about smacking. But if you insist...

Messing with you, chill. And you know I never say no to a party, especially if you’re going to be there. Maniks aren’t so bad yaar, at least their parties don’t come with a damn black tie requirement. 

[shivrathod]

goddesserpentine:

…please don’t bother, I’m not about to acquaint myself with their brand of stupidity— What? Be grateful I wasn’t referring to you.

Trust me, I’m more shocked to find out you find someone not stupid. What’s the poor bloke on the other end done to deserve such hatred on this bright sunny day?

[shivrathod]

avantikaa:

               LAZY FINGERS FLIP through the pages of yet another boring fashion magazine. There is a small sound of interest, as dark eyes skim over the article. Interest that was quick to form is even quicker to wither away. A small sigh, and Avantika glances up, almost uninterested. 

               “When was the last time the fashion industry came up with something that wasn’t drowning in mediocrity?”

There were two types of people in this world, according to Shiv. The kind who appreciated the deep hue of whiskey, the one true love of his life, and those who did not. And judging by the very much ignored glass in front of the woman, he had a bad feeling she might belong to the latter. 

“Well if perfection herself is viewing it... how can anything possibly match up?” 

His grin is effortless and he spins his own glass for a while before reaching out for the glass across the table. The whiskey practically called out to him - how could he possibly resist? 

“So. Tell me. How can I be of service?”

[leave-me-hypnotized-love]