"Rules: write down the first lines of ten of your fics or something like that.''
2. Kill the dead (Biohazard)
Pale, fragile in his hands.
There is nothing about Alex that isn't destroyed - broken.
3. My violent heart (Biohazard)
There is blood on his tongue, between her legs - a whitish thread of sperm on her inner thight, where he lays a kiss, snatching a whine from her.
It drips on their skin, dirtying them with desire and hunger - red and white; blood and longing.
4. We are the broken, we are the chosen (Biohazard)
There is peace in these moments.
There is peace on her mouth, between her thights.
There is peace around them - a crumpled sheet and Alex's hand in his, soft and warm.
5. Soulmates never die (Arcane)
A paper doll; an ashtray decorated in neon pink and green.
The shell of a shark bomb, a slightly squashed cake filled with bitter cocoa stolen directly from Whoopie Cakes in Piltover.
There had always been a gift for him on Valentine's Day - the innocence of a child that had then changed into the shy interest of a teenager and the most visceral desire of an almost adult.
6. Bubblegum (Arcane)
There is no color in the snow as it falls on Zaun, no flavor.
Jinx watches it with a mixture of curiosity and wonder, tipping her palm upward.
It settles in her hair, along the emaciated line of her shoulders - an eight-year-old thing that looks much more little.
7. Legacy (Assassin's Creed: Syndicate)
Jacob knows that Evie hasn't quite come to terms with what they are - with what they repeat every night, shamelessly.
He sees it from the way she sometimes looks at other couples on the street, when one of the Rooks discusses her authority - even in the mischievous jokes that Clara addresses to her.
8. Every night I burn (Biohazard)
It is a lazy night, sleepy.
She is wet, soft: she fucks him with slothful and languid movements - her cunt pink and swollen, dripping with their previous orgasms.
He brushes her hips with his hands, caressing her belly and pinching her nipples.
9. XIII (Biohazard)
A Dalí painting.
La Valse, by Camille Claudel.
The colors of Caravaggio, the expressive strength of the Romans - Pompeii, Herculaneum.
Alex sighs into his mouth, tangles her fingers in his hair.
"Why?" she asks, with no response.
Albert bares his teeth and bites.
10. With teeth (Biohazard)
She is white, Alex: a pale profile breathing softly at his side - the sheet crumpled between her knees and a serene, quiet expression on her face.
She's red, Alex; between her thighs, on her lips, where he bit her while she moaned his name, showing him the brutal truth that she hid behind her hieratic, aloof ways.
Tagged by the lovely @judasiskariot - thank you so much, darling. ❤️
I tag @shininglightofdarkness, @vesperene, @thetentaclecommander, @jvgotic, @doctor-hannibal-wesker and @ashlinnjarnheimm
