first sentence game! āļø
stolen from @tsunael š
rules: list the first line of your last 10 fics (posted or wip) and see if there's a pattern.
1.) (dbz) nameless namek wip šŗ
Vegeta hadn't slept in five days; it was a contributing factor in his severe lapses of judgment.
2.) (dbz) punch-drunk 2. š¬
Bulma severely needs a cigaretteāor three. It's the end of the world, and her good-for-nothing ex is haunting her house like a bad-tempered stray cat.
3.) (dbz) punch-drunk 1. š„
Indolence is a luxury Vegeta has never been able to afford, and he finds himself ill-suited to having it in abundance.
4.) (rdr2) reader/arthur morgan wip š
A hatchet clenched between your bloodied hands, you listened to the sussurus of the prairie grasses as you waited for the bounty hunter to come collect you.
5.) (ffxiv) cotton & formaldehyde. š§µ
Halmarut clutches his soft plush body close to her breast and it is the warmest Calyx has felt in centuries.
6.) (ffxiv) reaper/wol wip š©ø
The killer instinct, Drusilla called it. The sweat dripping down the back of her neck beneath her thick robes, Lilith is just desperate enough to think about it for longer than she should.
And for once, none of the Scions are here to caution her against such folly.
7.) (ffxiv) cursed rynefilia-centric wip š
These days, all Minfilia ever did was pray. That internal ceaseless chant within her soul proved as useless as any of the other damned prayers from wayward sinners they encountered on the unyielding road, but she is strung together with a pink ribbon and faith alone, and so as her sandals kick up dust she prays.
8.) (pokemon za) corbeau/reader wip š
Corbeau's patent leather shoe gleamed as it bounced atop his bent knee. He canted his head, leaning on his clenched fist as he regarded you knelt upon the floor. In the distance, his Scolipede hissed and chittered, its many legs skittering across the gravel as it coiled and recoiled itself behind Corbeau's desk.
(sorry I know people liked this one but it's never making it out of wip hell...)
9.) (ffxiv) wol/aymeric religious guilt wip š
"Hail Fury, full of grace," Aymeric whispered as the rosary clicked through his fingers.
10.) (the mirror visitor) little wife. šŖ
His little wife sniffles beneath her many layers of quivering white lace. Her diminutive hands, sheathed in matching ivory leather, clutch at her glasses as if it were her sole worldly possession left to her. Her unruly hair had been braided and coiled and teased into a many-pearled glimmering coronet, lace veils shivering down the edges of the bed like hoarfrost.Ā
i am tagginggg @witchfall @crimsonsynastry annnd @almandine-s! (or not! or anyone else that would like to participate!)