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Sex is Not the Enemy and you wish there were a fic to go with it? Is there a still from your favorite series that needs a story to accompany it? Do you have a vast stockpile of pictures of outer space that would make amazing back drops for a sci-fi story? Well, this is your place! You're invited to post an
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The sound of her heart is a low and steady thumping in her breast. Beneath dirty skin and ragged clothing, it has a rhythm that reminds her of the War.
For nearly fifteen years, it's what Bellatrix Lestrange wakes to; and when the hours pass and she imagines it must be dark, it's what she falls asleep to.
(Well, that and the sounds of her lovely inmates' screams from either side of her.
The walls, after all, are solid but not soundproof.)
She stays curled in the corner of her dark, wet cell where it's most comfortable, and remembers how they almost had it all - her and the Dark Lord - oh, yes. All of the brilliant, great, amazing things they were within a hair's breadth from achieving. She yearns for it so much, it aches right there - right in her gut so she feels it whenever she inhales, but also where it's pressed ( ... )
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