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#savage fierce
magyarmelcsi · 1 year
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odd-one-advocate · 7 months
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Not enough of us are talking about how hot he looked here
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papirouge · 3 months
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radical feminists be like "we are the daughters of the witches you couldn't burn uwu" when in reality they are the daughters of the ancestral karen that falsely accused black men and got them lynched lmao
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fairly-linked · 1 year
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So I'm messing around with the FD ai, and he just told Dark Link his mother should've swallowed???? Fierce, I-- 💀💀💀
Bro's a savage 💀💀💀💀
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evilhorse · 1 year
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Now, I saw her white, half-clad body flitting among the shadows and I followed, panting with fierce eagerness.
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team7-headquarter · 1 year
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For my Diamond Girls au : Team Anko.
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( picrew link here )
“ Three young girls who found in Orochimaru's program the guarantee of their independence. As now allies of Konoha, they often support the diamond girls in their operations. With Anko as their sensei, you don't want to cross them. ”
Tayuya : sound specialist. often stays behind coordinating mics + headphones, deciphering recordings and toying around with the enemy's signals. quiet but really mean when provoked. she's actually the best fighter of the squad.
Kin Tsuchi : sound specialist. Tayuya's woman in the field. often disrupting the enemy lines to provide coverage, plant mics and webcams, or collect vital info. her training taught her to not be overconfident. hates vain, shallow people.
Karin Uzumaki : image specialist. common job is to physically guide the girls in their missions. the best at keeping track of targets and places and predicting time and space frames. perfect awareness of the context around her. amazing at restrictions. quick temper, very flirtatious.
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lolsomeone-actually · 2 years
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I just bought Rihanna’s Savage x Fenty for the first time and cannot WAIT to feel like a fierce fabulous bitch!
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christina6x · 6 months
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foreverdolly · 2 months
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)
word count: 5.3k
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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 
“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 
“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 
Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 
“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 
There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 
“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.
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Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 
Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 
“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 
You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 
“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 
Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 
What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 
Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 
‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 
“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 
He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 
“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 
“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 
You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 
“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 
“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 
Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 
“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 
Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 
The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 
“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 
“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 
In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 
Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 
“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 
For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.
“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 
“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.
“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 
“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 
“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 
“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 
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“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 
Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 
“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 
Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 
“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 
You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 
“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 
“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 
It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 
“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 
It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 
You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 
The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 
“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 
The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 
“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 
Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”
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Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 
It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 
Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 
“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 
Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 
Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 
“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 
He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 
Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 
“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 
Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.
“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 
Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 
“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 
You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 
But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 
“Soon.” 
You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 
You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 
You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 
He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 
The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 
You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 
You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 
“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 
Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 
But god, you wanted to live. 
Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 
‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 
As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 
You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 
“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 
Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 
Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 
He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 
He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 
You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 
“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 
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You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 
“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 
Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 
The two of you were communicating. 
“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 
His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 
It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 
In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 
Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.
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I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 
The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 
You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 
You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 
You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 
“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 
“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 
Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 
His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 
“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 
You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 
You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 
“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 
This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  
“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 
“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 
“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 
“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 
It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 
“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 
“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 
Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 
“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 
“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 
A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 
This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 
“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 
The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 
“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.
The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 
Animal, indeed. 
I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 
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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!
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makingqueerhistory · 10 months
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I’m actually serious about this, if at all possible, right now is a very good time to request queer books from your local library. Whether they get them or not is not in your control, but it is so important to show that there is a desire for queer books. I will also say getting more queer books in libraries and supporting queer authors are pretty fantastic byproducts of any action.
This isn’t something everyone can do, but please do see if you are one of the people who has the privilege to engage in this form of activism, and if you are, leverage that privilege for all you’re worth.
For anyone who can’t think of a queer book to request, here is a little list of some queer books that I think are underrated and might not be in circulation even at larger libraries:
Refusing Compulsory Sexuality: A Black Asexual Lens on Our Sex-Obsessed Culture by Sherronda J. Brown
Silver Under Nightfall by Rin Chupeco     
Harvard's Secret Court: The Savage 1920 Purge of Campus Homosexuals by William Wright    
The Perks of Loving a Wallflower by Erica Ridley   
God Themselves by Jae Nichelle
IRL by Tommy Pico        
The Pink Line: Journeys Across the World's Queer Frontiers by Mark Gevisser
Passing Strange by Ellen Klages             
The New Queer Conscience by Adam Eli
Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl's Confabulous Memoir by Kai Cheng Thom          
Queering the Tarot by Cassandra Snow              
Wash Day Diaries by Jamila Rowser
Queer Magic: Lgbt+ Spirituality and Culture from Around the World by Tomás Prower            
Before We Were Trans: A New History of Gender by Kit Heyam   
Beyond the Pale by Elana Dykewomon 
Hi Honey, I'm Homo! by Matt Baume      
The Deep by Rivers Solomon
Homie: Poems by Danez Smith
The Secret Life of Church Ladies by Deesha Philyaw  
The Companion by E.E. Ottoman 
Kapaemahu by Dean Hamer, Joe Wilson, Hinaleimoana Wong-Kalu
Sacrament of Bodies by Romeo Oriogun     
Witching Moon by Poppy Woods 
Tell Me I'm Worthless by Alison Rumfitt    
Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman    
Disintegrate/Dissociate by Arielle Twist           
Dear Senthuran: A Black Spirit Memoir by Akwaeke Emezi             
Peaches and Honey by Imogen Markwell-Tweed      
Nepantla: An Anthology Dedicated to Queer Poets of Color by Christopher Soto
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sugarlywhispers · 8 months
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b.katsuki + makes his gf squirt
☆—fem reader, NSFW, smut, squirting, praising.
☆—a/n; sooooo, yep. i've been thinking about this the whole weekend 🙈stahp,ik i had better things to do but nothing's better than mha smut do we agree? which means i'll post another two drabbles with this theme with izuku and kirishima 😈 enjoy!
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“Have you – fuck,” Katsuki moaned low in his throat, thrusting his hips against you, his cock finally deep inside. “Have you ever squirted before?” He finally asked, his lips against yours. His forearms were each next to your head, his hands tangled in your hair. 
You panted a “no”, your nails digging in the skin of his big, muscled back when the delicious stretch that only his cock could produce invaded your body. 
He smiled devilishly and cocky at you. “Should we try it, baby?” You smiled biting your lower lip and nodding. Fuck, you loved this man.
He nipped your chin playfully before backing away on his knees in between your legs, his dick still inside of you. His big hands caressed your legs, from your knees, descending slowly through your thighs until he made it to your hips. His touch felt so soft and caring, producing goosebumps on its way over your skin.
And suddenly, the caress on your hips turned to a firm grip as he pulled you strongly against his, feeling his cock again roughly and deeply inside. 
A loud moan left your mouth, your back arching. “That's it, baby. Scream for me.” 
You didn't comprehend what was happening, his thrusts fiercely making you see stars in your vision thanks to the new pleasure you were feeling. He alternated strong deep thrusts to some more slow and sensual. You dared to, for a second, look at his face. His eyes held only one intention: devour you. You didn't dare to look back at him again, it was too much, too perfect. When after a couple more of those deep thrusts, it hit you fiercely, like his thrusts. Your squirt wetted his chest and he smiled proudly of himself; and for you, he felt a savage desire that was making him crazy.
“Fuck, baby. You're so fucking gorgeous…” He growled, getting his lips closer to yours and kissing you, feeling your walls still gripping him strong. He smirked against your mouth still feeling your body spam, thighs slightly trembling on each side of his hips from underneath him. “Should we try it again?”
He. Fucking. Smirked.
You didn't know if smile encouragingly at him or cry helplessly.
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harmoonix · 5 months
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🔥The Bad Bitch🔥
✮(Astrology Observations)✮
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✮-> Mars in Earth Degrees (2°, 6°, 10°, 14°, 18°, 22°, 26°), gosh their vibes and their attitude is so savage and so striking like they give this boss bitch walking mode
✮-> Mars aspecting Sun or Saturn can get male attention really fast, like they be pulling males looking at them out of nowhere
✮-> Sagittarius Moon/Moon in the 9th house natives have that wild fierce appearance of course, I swear to Nicki Minaj they be the wildest people in the crowd and even at the first sight you met them
✮-> Pluto in the 1st/8th/10th/11th house. Gosh how these natives always attract envy everywhere they go?? Siri play Obsessed by Mariah Carey literally...And even people being mean with you for like no reason. Girl pop off
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✮-> Juno aspecting Mars are that seductive. There are not enough words to describe how seductive these natives can be
✮-> Taurus Mars/Mars in the 2nd house be really having that gorgeous body, and girl go get that cashhhh let it flowwwww
✮-> Mercury aspecting Pluto in your chart makes your voice so deep and so seductive, is also very hard to not fall for your voice
✮-> I swear to Nicki again girl if you have Pluto in the 7th house and you keep attracting obsessive people in your life it's because you have that energy in your life, though relationships can transform you deeply
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✮-> It's good to know that all Liliths (h12) or (h13) give bad bitch vibes based on the element they are in (+ Lilith asteroid 1181) = All your combos of elements
Lilith in earth element = Boss Bitch
Lilith in fire element= Destructive Bitch
Lilith in Water element = Sensual Bitch
Lilith in Air element = Mesmerizing Bitch
✮-> Asteroid Sirene [1009] conjunct/trine/sextile/parallel/ Saturn, girl you really be attracting those dominant people in your life, like if you are looking for serious relationship is really great
✮-> Asteroid Sirene [1009] in the 7th house gonna make you to attract mischievous partners, partners who can pretend something they are not
✮-> Lilith (h13) in 8°. 20° degrees girl you should embrace yourself way more, take care of you and of your energy and of your magnetism too
✮-> Midheaven at 1°, 13°, 25° degrees or Midheaven in Aries , you make sure people know you are that BISH, PURRR don't let people disrespect you and show them who's the boss
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✮-> Midheaven at 10°, 22° degrees or Midheaven in Capricorn is giving "I'm a bitch, I'm a boss imma shine like gloss" these Capricorn Degrees babe so ofc they are bosses
✮-> Midheaven in 9°, 21° degrees or Midheaven in Sagittarius are "wild at heart with a lust for life" that's how my friend describes them and I agree because honestly Jupiter is supporting them so much, go queennnn
✮-> Midheaven in 2°, 7°, 14°, 19°, 26° degrees or Midheaven in Libra/Taurus, you know you are the IT because of your beauty, the people approach you as charming and sensual
✮-> Don't forget where you have Scorpio/Aquarius/Pisces in your chart, because these signs are ruled by 2 planets and they will both influence the house and planets you have in these signs
✮-> Venus at 29° degrees, we are all together in this cus' these are the ender degrees, you'll have to end something in your love topics in this life, these degrees also give you influence
✮-> Capricorn Mars and Mars in the 10th house can't hide from their sensuality, Mars is like a carefree here and doesn't like to hide it
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✮-> Mars in Sagittarius, Leo, Aries bring the fire in your life literally, they're hot and they know that, honestly Mars gets crazy everytime it enters in a fire sign
✮-> Asteroid Salome [562] in Scorpio/8th house knows how to enchant people, they have an unique magnetism that just pulls people and their aura is so sexual, they can aslo have a big sex appeal
✮-> Salome [562] in Capricorn/10th house they're very dominant in everything, very dark feminine vibes and very sassy/sometimes they tend to be a bit mean with people/ they can appear as being hot or sexy in public or by others
✮-> Salome in Libra/Salome in the 7th house can have a very beautiful body and their beauty itself is aswell, they also appear as being charming with people, seductive too
✮-> Sagittarius Venus/Venus in the 9th house, guys just search Venus in Sag women you'll see 90% of them having a very beautiful body/(hips mostly), Sagittarius rules over hips and Venus will make that prominent in your body (Ice Spice and Nicki Minaj both have it in Sag and they are no joke)
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✮-> Venus in Aquarius/11th house or in Aquarius Degrees 11°, 23°, something is so unique/outstanding about these natives, that type of person who stays out of the crowd yet the one who gets the most attention vibes
✮-> Venus in Aries/Venus in the 1st house or in Aries Degrees 1°, 13° 25° their energy though, it's very fierce and they will be the most confident when it comes to their beauty
✮-> Saturn conjunction/square/opposite/parallel Lilith (h12) = Bad girls, this is their world and we just live in it, they're aura gives "I'm the authority here" if you ever read Lilith's Myth and how she became she first woman you'll realize how much Lilith - Saturn aspects have in common with the myth
✮-> Something I will always always and always admire about Capricorn/Aquarius placements is that they have this Saturn protective side, Saturn is their teacher and a father figure in the same time and be sure it can revenge for them aswell (especially in Sun/Moon/Rising because they have it more prominent)
✮-> Lilith in the 1st house/Lilith in Aries/Lilith in Aries Degrees 1°, 13°, 25°, these natives have the vibe of Goddess Eris from Greek Mythology if you don't know her check her out she's iconic. They have this chaos in them but some power too
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✮-> Eros Asteroid (433) in elements can indicate the love style you want/like:
Eros in Fire element loves physical touch
Eros in Water element loves emotional bounding/ or true love
Eros in Air element loves communication in love/talking/opening out
Eros in Earth element loves words of affirmation and quality time
✮-> What's cool about your Midheaven is that it can change its place it doesn't always have to be in your 10th house
Some natives have their MC in their 9th house
Some in the 10th house (just like the basic one)
And some with the MC in the 11th house
You can see your Midheaven by sign it's repsented by (MC) and look in the house it's in.
✮-> Sun in Taurus Degrees/Sun in the 2nd house (2°, 14°, 26°), are giving so much feminine vibes, in looks, personality, they way they act in everything and you can recognize it so easily (at least me)
✮-> Sun/Moon in the 8th house really give that "Im here to experience and to evolve not to take your bullshit" like you don't have to care about others opinion and you focus on yourself, get that crown queens and kings
✮-> Moon in the 10th house (Moon at 10°, 22°) can have it though when it comes to their emotions and feelings, sometimes they can suffer and keep it inside for a long time and they're so strong emotionally!
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🔥 I really hope my posts help you to understand your birth chart better and to be proud of your placements even if they are not always all the placements, I have a lot of posts you can read about so everyone is included 🔥
🔥 H a r m o o n i x 🔥
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When We Are In Love!
Love Can Sometimes Make You Nausea To The State, You Have Runny Tummy, Love Can Sometimes Make You Starve To The State, You Loose Appetite And Eat No More, Love Can Sometimes Make You Cry To The State, You Have Blood Tears, Love Can Sometimes Make You Fierce To The State, You Can Kill And Savage, Love Can Sometimes Make You Mad To The State, You Are Mentally Ill, Love Can Sometimes Make…
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ereneda-a · 2 years
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❛  if i have to kill one to save the other, so be it.  ❜ from Jacen
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  Every visit of Jacen’s brought her a comfort that nothing else ever could, but recently each one seemed to introduce a shot of cold into her veins. There were things he said, mannerisms that were new to her, expressions she couldn’t place -- something was wrong and Tenel Ka didn’t know what it was.
  Maybe not knowing wasn’t the issue, maybe not wanting to know, not wanting to admit was more like it.
  “Jacen...” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she placed a gloved hand on his upper arm.
  She much rather would have been able to touch his cheek, his neck, his fingers, anything with her bare hand -- his skin had always been warm to the touch ( another comfort ) -- but standing in the almost empty corridor next to a Hapan banquet made it impossible.
  The words that doesn’t sound like you repeated in her head on a loop she couldn’t stop and she couldn’t bring herself to care if he picked them up through the Force.
  “That is not something...” Tenel Ka started but shook her head as her words trailed off. “Is everything alright?”
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fragilefable · 4 months
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nobody's son, nobody's daughter.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.
Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪
A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!
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Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller. 
Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman. 
And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking. 
You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins. 
The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl." 
You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.
Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird." 
Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?" 
The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair. 
"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you. 
Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck. 
Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first. 
Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay." 
Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately. 
Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel." 
"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army." 
Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway. 
The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck. 
A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!" 
As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise." 
The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."  
You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance. 
Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone." 
Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-" 
A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.
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16 Years Later
The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within. 
You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front. 
You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive. 
You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!" 
The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets. 
A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?" 
You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?" 
You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?" 
You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home." 
Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young. 
Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice. 
You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still... 
You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.  
Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know." 
You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house. 
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3 Years Later
Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through. 
In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand." 
Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse. 
Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.
· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·
The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."  
You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know. 
As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"
She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you? 
Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"
He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."
Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?" 
Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault. 
Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."
Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.
· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·
Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.
Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.
You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.
If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.
A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.
Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.
Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."
Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."
You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."
Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."
· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·
The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him. 
As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail. 
You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart. 
The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams. 
When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her. 
You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think." 
You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy. 
Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen. 
Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere. 
He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street. 
Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer. 
He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades. 
You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me." 
Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'." 
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© 2023 fragilefable do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.
divider by @saradika
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Hello I love your non con writings. Specially your rape smuts are top of the line. I througly enjoyed your Wony and SinB smut dump. Lily one was good too. Can you make Karina the next toy for your Smut Dump? Karina getting brutally raped in all of her holes for dating someone other than her fans or something similar would be amazing.
Smut Dump 4: Karina
A/N: Hello! I have nothing to say other than thank you! I couldn't be happier and truly glad that there's someone out there who enjoys my absurd work. Also, I'm sorry for taking so long to get to this. I hope you (and the others) have fun reading.
T/W: Gang Rape, Nasty Stuff, a little blood, Anal, Mentioned Prolapse
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Karina's hardcore fanboys discover she's been dating someone outside of her dedicated follower group. 
Enraged at her perceived betrayal, they ambush her as she leaves a recording studio late one night. 
They knock her unconscious and drag her into a dingy back alley reeking of garbage and stale piss.
When she comes to, Karina finds herself stripped naked, her wrists bound tightly behind her back in a kneeling position.
Three of her biggest fans surround her, leering maliciously as their rock-hard cocks jut out from unzipped pants. 
"You've been a very bad girl, Yu Jimin," one of them snarls. "Time to punish that stupid body of yours for stepping out on us."
The first fan, a tall skinny guy forces her mouth open and shoves his thick shaft deep into her throat, making her gag. 
Another bulky man spreads her legs wide as he slips underneath between her legs before positioning his swollen cockhead at the entrance to her slick unprepared slit. 
He then slams into her roughly, her muffled screams vibrating along the cock violating her mouth as he starts pounding her cunt mercilessly.
As the first guy keeps savagely face-fucking Karina, she gags and drools excessively, tears streaming down her cheeks from the rough throat penetration. 
"Fuck yeah, take that cock, you stupid cow slut," he growls.
Meanwhile, the second man hammers her pussy relentlessly. "Your cunt belongs to us, bitch. We're going to use every one of your fuck holes tonight to teach you a lesson."
A third man moves behind her, rubbing the thick head of his veiny cock against her puckered asshole. 
"Get ready for this monster cock to wreck this tight little asshole," he says with a sadistic grin.
He forces the bulbous tip into her resisting sphincter, making Karina wail in pain around the dick gagging her. 
Inch by inch he works his way inside her bowels, stretching her anal ring wide. 
Soon all three men are slamming in and out of her abused holes in a brutal rhythm, grunting like feral animals.
Karina's holes are savagely used by her vengeful fans as their assault intensifies. 
The one face-fucking her throat grips her hair in a fistful and hammers his thick slab of meat back and forth between her slobbering lips. 
"Choke on that fucking cock!" His balls slap loudly against her chin with each vicious thrust.
The other two men show no mercy either. Her pussy is drenched as the second guy's rigid pole batters it at a punishing pace, his heavy nuts swinging back and forth under her bruised thighs, spreading them even wider. 
The ass penetrator has buried half his considerable size into her vice-like sphincter, feeling it desperately contract around his violating shaft. 
"That's it, whore...loosen up that ass! You're gonna take every inch whether you like it or not!"
The collective sounds of excessive wet flesh on flesh, gagging, sobbing, and fierce male grunting fill the filthy alley as Karina's perfect body is annihilated in a bone-jarring triple penetration. 
Her fans are vicious, degrading animals, releasing weeks of built-up frustration through violently using all her holes.
Karina arches her back sharply, gagging loudly as the cock slides deeper down her constricted throat. 
The man face-fucking her grasps her head firmly with both hands, using it like a human fuck toy while snarling nasty insults.
Behind her, the fan pounding her sopping pussy from below slams upward with harsh, piston-like strokes. 
Stringy ropes of her unwilling arousal cling to his lapidated length, coating his groin and upper thighs. Her knees are forced up and out.
The third savage penetrating her asshole laughs loudly as Karina squeals around the mouth-invader. 
His hands grip her fleshy asscheeks like a steering wheel, spreading them apart to grant deeper access to her clenched rectum. 
Already over half his thick cock has been forced into her bowels.
Her big, saggy breasts sway and jiggle furiously from the intense triple-pronged onslaught. 
One man lashes out, taking turns slapping them viciously with his open palm, leaving reddening handprints on her pale, sweat-slicked flesh.
"Look at these fucking udders flop around! Bet your new boyfriend doesn't get to abuse these titties like we do, you ungrateful bitch!"
The vicious pummeling and demeaning words rip more muffled wails from the human fucking doll.
"Oh fuck, here it comes, slut!" the fan throttling Karina's face grunts out a warning.
His cock swells thicker in her crammed mouth as potent seed explodes down her convulsing gullet. 
She's forced to swallow spurt after molten spurt, choking and gagging around the still-thrusting meat pole. 
When he finally pulls free, his shrinking prick leaving a sloppy trail of saliva and jism across her cheek, the furious man winds up and slaps her hard across the face. 
“Swallow it all, you worthless whore!!
Karina coughs and splutters, wailing in despair, "P...please, I'm so-sorry!” Another smack on her face. “Argh!! No more, PLEASE!"
But the other two ravaging her lower holes are far from satisfied. The one jackhammering her cunt grunts through clenched teeth.
"You hear that, bitch? We're NOWHERE near done with you yet!" Just then his swollen tip swells further as his own pent-up explosion hits. 
A high-pitched squeal rips from Karina as her insides are bloated with thick ropes of scalding seed, painting her womb white.
"OH FUCK OH GOD PLEASE!" she babbles, tears and mascara streaking black down her reddened cheeks. 
Her pleas fall on deaf ears as the anal ravager continues rearranging her guts savagely.
A deep, satisfied groan escapes the man who just pumped Karina's formerly pristine womb full of his thick seed. 
Instead of withdrawing, he stays hilted inside her aching, puffy pussy, savoring the hot velvet sensation as her violated channel quivers around his still-rigid cock.
"C'mere, you traitor slut," yanking her upper body down to lay atop his heaving chest. 
Large calloused hands grasp and squeeze both doughy tit-udders, mashing them against his grinning face.
Karina's sobs renew as his mouth latches harshly onto one dark nipple. He sucks obscenely while biting down, clamping the tender nub between his teeth. 
A high-pitched shriek rings out as he draws blood, crimson spotting his lips and chin.  
"ARGH! P-PLEASE, NOOOO!" she bawls piteously. But none show mercy. 
The burly man double-stuffed in her tight asshole stiffens, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he erupts. 
Karina's scream mingles with his guttural roar as his nasty cum floods her ruined anal hole, splattering up into her guts.
When he finally wrenches free, her abused sphincter is left gaping. She can't control it as her bowels unleash a wet gurgle.
A thick, sticky thread of cum and yellowish fluid oozes from the prolapsing rosebud, drooling down her thighs.
With sinister grins, the depraved gang haul Karina's floppy form over to the nearby dumpster. They bend her over it roughly, not caring about the foul stench of rotting garbage surrounding them. 
One grabs her by the throat, forcing her upper body down against the filthy metal lid as another moves in behind.
"Make sure this fucking bitch screams for us," he barks, lining his puffed cockhead up with her gaping, slimy asshole. 
Gripping her hips in a vice, he slams forward, impaling her ravaged rectum on his entire length in one deep thrust.
"AAAAAAGGGHHHH!!!" Karina screams, mouth gaping in a rictus of utter agony. 
Jagged shards of pain lash up her spine as the thick cock stretches her destroyed sphincter wide yet again.
The other two men take turns using her flayed arms as leashes, pulling her battered body back onto their friend’s awaiting cock. 
Sobs and pleas tumble from her drooling lips as they take turns piercing her creampied cunt with no respite.
"P-Please... Slow down— M-Mercy!! " she garbles out amidst hysterical bawling. "I...I c-can't... AAAAGGGHHH!!" 
But her tormentors are deaf to her abject begging.  All they care about is achieving twisted pleasure through demolishing her idealized form into a broken wreaking of bodily fluids and humiliation.
The merciless assault intensifies, if such a thing is possible. 
Karina is yanked off the dumpster lid entirely by the two deviants raping her cunt and asshole in rapid succession. 
Her shapely legs are lifted high, calves draped over shoulders as the two maniac fans impale her holes with frenzied, upward slam.
"AAAAHHHH!!! P...PUH-LEEEEZE!!" she wails, voice already growing HOARSE from the relentless screaming. 
Spits and smeared mascara streak her blank face as Karina is rag-dolled between two punishing cocks. 
Each time her raw pussy is vacated, it gapes horrifyingly, exposing her insides before the next thick cock buries itself to the root.
One impatient fan shoves forward, mauling her pendulous, sweat-soaked breasts as he waits his turn. 
Fingers claw and squeeze the supple flesh without mercy, leaving crimson weals from his vicious grip. The metallic taste of her torn fills his tongue.
"Look at these fucking udders!" he bellows with sadistic glee. "These fat tits are MINE next, you hear?!" 
He spits a thick loogie directly onto one upturned tit-curve before burying his face into the bountiful sweaty valley, rutting like a bull.
Karina's once pristine, porcelain features are now a puffy, streaked, ruined mess. A lifetime's worth of hardcore porn couldn't prepare her for this level of violation.
The onslaught continues until every last one of the vengeful fans has emptied their swollen balls into Karina's formerly tight holes. 
Over and over they take turns demolishing her gaping cunt and prolapsed asshole with ruthless poundings, leaving her continuously oozing thick ropes of cum.
By the end, the starlet is barely conscious, her naked, ruined body covered in dried and fresh streaks of cum, sweat, and tears. 
Mascara-stained eyes are half-lidded, vacant expressions of utter shock upon her once radiant face. Throaty cries and whimpers occasionally escape her purpled lips. 
"That'll teach this slut to start respecting her real fans again," one of the men says, zipping up his soiled jeans. 
The others snicker and spit on Karina's quivering form in disdain.
With a hard kick to her side that forces out a wet belch of their combined expenditures, the guys slink off into the night. 
The disgraced idol is left a cum-drenched and nearly-unrecognizable heap amid the reeking alleyway filth.
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