Rule: List the first line of your last 10 fics/or chapters (posted or WIP) and see if there's a pattern. If you don't have 10 fics, then as many first lines as you do have!
Thank you, my precious @thecampjuicebox and @bhaal-battle-beer-bard for the tag on this! I went ahead and shared my most recent lines from some fanfic drafts, as well as some of my most recent responses to Shae's and my roleplays down below.
○●○●○●○● Last Fanfic Draft Lines:
"Sometimes," Sion murmured, "I wonder who I might've become if you'd stayed. If I'd ever had the chance to just… be someone. Instead of surviving everyone else's idea of what I'm worth."
The hush of the sundries at night was rarely unbroken, but tonight the silence trembled.
"Ah, Reef, my stoic sea guardian," Sami drawled, exhaling a lazy ring of smoke that danced toward the Triton.
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○●○●○●○● Recent Roleplay Responses:
Kaelis's teeth were still bared in a snarl when Caa'bul threw her head back and laughed, the sound bright and sharp as shattered glass, pure entertainment ringing through the narrow hallway like she'd just heard the punchline to the funniest joke in all of the Nine Hells.
(CREDIT TO @thecampjuicebox FOR THE SMUGGLER & THE SIREN GIF BELOW)
The moment she began scolding herself through sniffles and sobs, the fragile ache in her voice cracked something inside Talyss wide open.
Lief's breath stalled in his chest the instant Sylvar's fingertips found the first raised line of scar tissue across his shoulder blade.
Every filthy, reverent word that spilled between those polished ivory tusks struck Emryn like sunlight piercing centuries of frost.
The taunt should have sparked a razor-edged retort, something haughty, something sharp to reclaim the upper hand.
Kol followed the silver sway of her hair like a moth chasing a flame that refused to burn him, each glimmering strand a beacon cutting through the velvet-dark corridors.
Olazor reclined in the high-backed chair of carved ebony at the far end of the long onyx table, the feast spread before him like a macabre still-life painted in shades of crimson and shadow.
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○●○●○●○● There's patterns, alright... I love making Shae's and my creations smooch, and I love myself some angst–creating characters with the sole purpose of making them pathetic. 🫣... Shhhhh.... 🤫
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Tag, you're it: @bladesingerlily, @starlightweave, @optimisticgrey, @wasted-sam, and @bongbubbles!
"Should things go south, Celine, ye give this t'Calla, and ye tell her–tell her 'at I never stopped thinkin' o'her," he swallowed hard, the words catching like splinters in his throat. His grip tightened on the letter, on the memory of her in the hope that it might hold to the very end.
"Ye get it t'her and ye watch o'er her fer me. Nae matter whit, aye? Promise me."
Callashi,
If you are reading this, it means I could not keep my promise to come back to you...
But it is a strange comfort, knowing you might one day hold this, even though I cannot be there to see your eyes trace the lines the same way you used to trace the letters in the air with your fingers, mouthing each sound like it was a spell. I remember the sway of the ship beneath us, the salt on your lips as you stumbled through your first common phrases, stubborn and bright-eyed, refusing to let the wind steal your syllables.
And I remember every time you got a word right, you'd look at me like you'd just won a battle.
You did, Calla.
You won me over with every page we read, every word you sounded out, every time you asked me to read it again, slower this time, so you could feel the shape of it on my lips.
You deserved more than I could ever provide...
You deserved more than a man made of ghosts and half-truths.
But for what it's worth, I would have given whatever remained of me to see you safe, and to have one more quiet morning beside you.
So if the world has taken me, then know this...
You were the only part of it I wanted to stay for.
Every step I took beside you was a rebellion against what I am, and I would lose a thousand times over to have had those moments again.
I hope, wherever you are, the sea carries you to gentler shores. I hope that when this letter finds you, you learn to read the words without pain... And when you think of me, don't remember the blades or the running, or the blood between us in our fight for freedom.
Remember the sound of the river the night before it all fell apart—your feet splashing in the water, our first kiss beneath the stars, and the moment we sailed away from it all toward something better. Home.
Remember that I tried.
And above all, remember that you were always my greatest treasure.
My precious Pearl...
– Ren
These beautiful images and Callashi the siren belong to a most wonderful friend: @thecampjuicebox
Thank you for not only letting me post these wholesome images of our babies, but for the ways in which you inspire me, as well as listen to me spitball all my crazy ideas with such grace–even when I think I can be annoying about them sometimes. 😚...😬
Thank you so much, @starlightweave and @cursed-nyxan, for tagging me! I have been drafting up a smutty piece–as promised for The Triton & His Fairy to accompany my first digital art drawing.
Since it's an explicit piece, it is below the cut.
Éire bit her bottom lip in utter desire, her wings humming as she appraised him, then declared her intent in a riddled purr.
"Upon this tide I'll sit and sway, ride the wave in passion's play. Keep your maw agape, my dear, and let the pleasures draw us near."
She propped herself with care, first pressing a tiny kiss to the top of his upper lip–a warm, tingling peck that sent sparks through his scales–then lowered herself onto the wet, textured surface of his tongue while Reef nodded stupidly, his fins flaring with a mix of eagerness and bewilderment, holding his mouth open as directed so that she could settle upon it. Her small hands braced against his large, fang-like canines, gripping the sharp edges gently for balance as she spread her legs wide to straddle the broad muscle, thighs parting to embrace its girth, a huff of delight escaping her as the ridged texture met her cunt, the papillae teasing her sensitive skin like a thousand tiny currents. A moan dragged from her throat, low and throaty, as she adjusted, her arousal coating his tongue immediately, the salty-sweet tang of her mixing with his briny essence in an intoxicating blend.
