You loved her. Not like the world did. To them, she was a star, a goddess, something to be admired from a distance. But you… you couldn’t stay away. Her beauty, her voice, her very existence—it wrapped around you like chains. You didn’t fight it. You never wanted to.
The world screamed her name, but they were blind. They only saw the stage, the smile, the performance. You saw more. You saw her. Lara Rajagopalan. Lara Raj. And once you did, there was no going back.
She was untouchable, too bright for anyone to hold, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t need the light. You only needed her. Even if it meant hiding in the shadows. Even if it meant keeping her where no one else could find her.
But you were wrong. You thought you could own her. The truth was worse—she owned you. Every thought, every breath, every part of you bent to her. You weren’t her lover. You weren’t her equal.
You were her prisoner. Her shadow. Her slave. And the more you realized it, the darker it became. Because if she ever left you, if she ever slipped from your grasp, you knew what you would do. You’d rather destroy her, destroy yourself, destroy everything—than live in a world where she wasn’t yours.
The door creaks open. The sound slices through the silence like a whisper, yet it feels like a lullaby. Tears blur your vision as the cold runs through your veins, a sweet ache you’ve come to crave. You’re shivering, not from fear, but from the anticipation of her shadow filling the room.
You lift your eyes. It’s her. After a long day. She came back, still with you. Or maybe it’s you — still there, still waiting, still chained in the dark. like a touch you’ve learned to mistake for comfort.
You could escape. You know that. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the thought flickers like a dying flame. But you smother it. Because this isn’t just pain; it’s devotion. This isn’t just a cell; it’s a sanctuary. You are worthy of her.
So you stay. And you'll breath as long as you can, just to be with her for a little while longer. Each breath hurts, but it’s hers. As long as you’re with her, everything feels alright, to feel her presence, to dream of her even with your eyes open, it was enough, enough for someone like you.
Lara’s eyes fall on you. Eyes that once lit up a room, a stage, a camera now sink into shadow, it darkened, cold and sharp. She looks at you with nothing but disgust—disgust at what you’ve become, at how far you’ve fallen. Disgust that people like you even exist. And yet, she enjoys it; the power.
You look at her. For the first time in so long, your eyes meet. Hers are filled with disgust, laced with something darker—lust hidden behind contempt. Yours, however, are pure. Full of love. Full of comfort,
as if the chains around you doesn't even exist.
Your lips tremble, your voice breaking into the silence.
“You… you came back…”
The words slip out, shaky yet hopeful, glowing with admiration, obsession.
Lara’s eyes rest on you, steady and unshaken. She doesn’t need to shout. Her words alone are enough to crush you, or yet, to make you fold.
“No. I didn’t come back for you. I just wanted to see what you’ve turned into. And now I see it… a pitiful thing, chained and smiling, like a dog that doesn’t know it’s already lost.” Lara smirks at her own words, proud of the knife she’s just twisted. Her eyes never leave yours.
You break, your voice cracking as it leaves your throat.
“If you can’t love me… then just let me go!”
She chuckles, soft at first, then lets out a low laugh that chills you more than a scream ever could.
“Let you go? So what? So you can ruin me? As if you could actually live without me.” She leans closer, her voice still calm, still cutting.
“You’re pathetic, as pathetic as anyone else Y/N. Don’t flatter yourself. I know you can escape. You just don’t want to.”
You sit in silence, wrists trembling as the chains fall away. For a moment, you almost believe you’re free. But the way she looks at you makes your chest tighten. Her eyes are cold, sharp, pressing down on you harder than the metal ever did. Her smirk lingers, cruel and patient.
“You want me to let you go?” Her voice is soft, steady, terrifying. She tilts her head, never breaking eye contact. “Then go.”
The word hangs in the air like a curse. Your body won’t move. The room feels smaller, the darkness heavier. Freedom is right there… yet you’re still trapped.
You sit frozen for what feels like forever, your mind empty, your chest tight. A minute, an hour—you can’t tell anymore. Finally, you force yourself to move.
Your legs tremble as you push yourself up. They feel weak, useless, as if they’ve forgotten how to stand. You’ve been kneeling here for so long—months, maybe years—you don’t even know anymore.
The ground feels strange beneath your feet, almost foreign, like it doesn’t belong to you. Each step is unsteady, like you’re walking on air, or in someone else’s body. You don’t understand. You don’t remember.
And behind you, she waits. Silent. Watching. Her presence presses against your back heavier than the chains ever did.
Her voice drips into the silence, smooth and merciless.
“You want me to let go of you… fine.”
You barely have time to breathe before the air shifts. A sudden shadow looms, and then it hits— A bat, heavy and unforgiving, crushing against the side of your skull. The sound is sickening, a dull crack that vibrates through your bones. For a heartbeat, you swear you hear your head split open, like glass breaking under too much pressure. Heat floods down your face, warm and wet, while a cold numbness spreads inside your skull.
Your knees buckle. The ground rises to meet you, but you can’t even brace yourself. The world tilts, blurs, spins out of focus. The last thing you see is her figure standing over you, calm, almost bored, her eyes still burning with that cruel light. Then everything disappears. Darkness swallows you whole.
Unconscious. Silent. Gone.
You saw the light. You saw the darkness. For a moment, you thought you had finally escaped the curse, Lara.
At first, you were like everybody else. You idolized her. You loved her. You wanted to be close. You wanted to be with her. So you followed her.
But you were reckless. You had no life of your own—You made her your world. You fell into her charm on screen, and she enlightened your delusions. She became your comfort, your universe. The perfect figure. The dream.
But it wasn’t enough. Watching her wasn’t enough. You dug deeper. You went too far. While searching for heaven, you crossed a line, in which leads you to hell. A mistake. She was like Lucifer—an angel, beautiful, impossible to resist. She took you in, it was a opportunity. Once a fan. Now a prisoner.
A sting. At first, it was nothing, almost gentle. But when your eyes opened again, it crashed over you. The pain. The weight. You couldn’t move. Your body wouldn’t answer. Paralyzed. Helpless.
And there she was. Still watching.
Some parts of you are… missing. You can’t tell where they went, only that you’re not whole anymore. Something is dripping — red, warm at times, dark at most — sliding down your skin. Your head spins, too light and too heavy all at once. Your skull feels cracked open, like it’s holding more than it can bear. Tears blur your vision, hot and useless, sliding down to mix with the blood on your face. You try to scream, but your throat won’t obey. Only a dry gasp escapes. Your mouth tastes of iron. You feel something sharp digging into you — a cut, a tear — but your nerves can’t keep up. The pain comes in flashes, too much to process, then nothing at all, like your body is giving up on telling you what’s left. Your vision fractures. Shapes twist into shadows, the room bending around you. You see glimpses — her outline, her hands.
You hear her singing. At first it’s soft, like a lullaby floating through the dark. Her voice — angelic, pure — it doesn’t belong in this place, not with the blood pooling beneath you. She hums Loving You, the tune warm, sweet, almost tender. Each note feels wrong, like silk draped over a corpse. Her humming wraps around you, pressing into the cracks of your broken body, soothing and suffocating all at once. Your vision blurs, the room sways, and for a moment you forget the pain. For a moment you almost believe she loves you, that the chains, the bruises, the blood are proof of it.
But then you hear her laughter break through the melody — low, cold, amused. She keeps singing, but now it feels mocking, a lullaby twisted into a funeral hymn. Your body twitches at the sound, but you can’t move. You can’t fight. You can only watch as she crouches just far enough away that her face is hidden in the dark. But her eyes — her eyes shine. Cold. Curious. Like she’s studying a painting she’s not finished with yet.
Then she whispers, soft and low, almost tender:
“See? Even broken, you can’t leave me.”
The words crawl into your ears, wrapping tight around your failing heart.
Fell like Clayton needs a dog. Is this considered a #fanart or #fanphoto? #blueistheangelsquadsmascot #ClaytonCardenas #fanfun https://www.instagram.com/p/B2KDGgKgJA9/?igshid=17a0erdlpa7s7
@Regrann from @disneyanajones - Jason Momoa (Stargate Atlantis, Conan, Game of thrones) greeted fans in his Frontier costume! #longbeachcomicexpo2017 #longbeach #jasonmomoa #frontier #comicon #celebrity #fanfun - #regrann
Sure, and oh dear. I’m the worst person to answer anything nsfw related (I’m more of a plot/drama person), but I’ll try to whip up something I dare to publish :’D
Lavi, Tyki, and Allen work together well. They are always having lots of fun with whatever they’re supposed to be doing, be it freetime activities or household chores. Their personalities and sense of humour match, which carries over to their more intimate moments.
Lavi has the most ideas, and he’s usually the one who suggests trying out something new–however, he gets awfully embarrassed and nervous if Tyki and Allen are actually up to it. He’s quite insecure underneath all those smiles and jokes, and his partners have to be patient with him.
Tyki is the most carefree and shameless of the bunch, not sensoring his sayings or gestures in public. He loves teasing and challenging his partners, but he’s also the biggest cuddler, unable to control his overflowing affection for them. He likes to think he’s in control during their intimate moments, but the one holding the reins is actually Allen.
Allen is comfortable with his sexuality, but he likes to keep what he does with his boyfriends in-between them. He’s not usually into heated ex-tempore stuff, getting irritated if he’s disrupted in the middle of something else–he’s more than happy that his boyfriends have each other to bother during those situations. When he’s actually in the mood, he enjoys being tended and cared for. He likes to think his tastes are betten than his partners’, but he can be just as bad as them.
I’m listening Hallow’s OP and almost crying. That part where the singer’s voice becomes rawer is during Lavi’s important moments combination, and that tired, smiling Lavi always breaks my heart.
